Redemption (Enigma Black Trilogy Book #3) (35 page)

For a series of moments, we both lay unmoving and allowed our bodies to process the shock to our systems. “Ian.” I called his name, painfully forcing myself to stand despite my body pleading with me to remain still.

“Yeah,” he said with a groan. I limped over to him and, in even greater pain, knelt down beside him. His eyes opened to greet me. He extended his hand toward me, which I grabbed and pulled him up to a sitting position. “Ugh,” he groaned, clutching his side in pain. “Are you okay?”

“As okay as I can be.” A sudden burst of flame shot out from the remnants of the library, casting a sweltering orange glow around us. All I could think about was The Woodland Lodge, whether it had remained untouched so far, or whether it had gone up in flames like the building before me.

“Your suit,” Ian said, “it’s ripped.”

Confused, my eyes trailed down to the spot on my leg where he was concentrating his gaze. A sizeable hole had been ripped out over my thigh. Blood had trickled down my leg and had already begun to dry on my skin. Ian hunched over to prepare himself to stand, which exposed a rip down the back of his shoulder. “So much for these things being in any way reliable.” I pulled the flap of his suit down to cover his exposed skin.

“Do you believe they ever really were? Nothing else we’ve been told has been the truth, why should our suits be any different?”

I nodded. “Or maybe they’ve been altered since the address.”

“Or replaced entirely.” Ian stood up, sucking in air on his way to his feet. “Damn, that smarts.” He rubbed his side, which only seemed to cause him more pain.

“Ian,” I said, hesitating. “Stay here. Let me go on my own. Let me—”

“No, absolutely not. You’re strong, Celaine, but you can’t take on Victor by yourself, especially if Chase’s life is in danger.” His voice was pained, though I knew this time the source of his pain wasn’t physical. “We’re a team, and that’s how we’re going to stay.”

“Okay.”

In the distance, another explosion rattled what few windows remained intact. “Come on,” Ian said, “let’s put an end to him.”

Kara burst through the doors of the simulation room, finding Drew working frantically at Cameron’s laptop surrounded by Becca, Colby, Kyle, and Marcus. When she entered the room, they all whipped their heads around, startled by the sudden disturbance. “Well, I suppose you’ve all heard the news,” she said. She studied them all as though scrutinizing their presence. “Marcus, care to explain how you knew nothing about any of this?”

“Stop it, Kara,” Drew said without taking his eyes off the computer screen. “He’s just as in shock as the rest of us. The people you should be questioning are the ones who aren’t in this room right now. You know, our doctors, our intelligence personnel. They’re the ones who would have had more insight as to Victor’s comings and goings.”

“It’s true,” Marcus said. “I can’t speak for Lars or Edwin, but I had limited knowledge as to the reasoning behind some of the projects Victor had us do. My main role was in developing the suits for Celaine, Ian, and the rest of them.” He paused as a thought occurred to him. “Though I now have an idea why he wanted a dummy suit made.”

“A what?” Kara asked, her eyes wide.

“A dummy suit,” Marcus repeated. “Victor said that he didn’t want to run the risk of them wearing out their real suits in the simulator, so he had me construct a dummy suit made with less superior and far less expensive material.”

“One that can’t stop a bullet,” Kara murmured.

“Or much of anything else,” Marcus agreed.

“We need to warn Celaine and Ian,” Kara said frantically. “They’re out there right now chasing after Victor. They won’t stand a chance.”

“We can’t,” Drew said. “Their communication devices, ear buds and pagers have been disabled.”

Kara stumbled over to a chair next to Drew, again feeling a sickness overtaking her. She looked up at the others, at the tears falling from Becca’s eyes, and at the anger that poured from Colby and Kyle’s stern expressions. “Where are you with deactivating the soldiers, Drew?” she asked.

“After several hours of digging, I found the program, but it’s going to take me some time to rewrite the commands.”

“Well, we don’t have time. People are dying as we speak. Good, innocent people. I don’t care what you have to do to speed up the process, whether you can just start deactivating them one-by-one, but please figure it out quickly.” He nodded as his fingers typed frantically. “Did you get the rest of the bombs out of the office?”

“They’re in the box over there.” He nodded toward the corner of the room.

Kara eyed the box, her mind moving at a mile a minute. “You have two hours,” she said after she had mulled over her hastily put together plan in her head.

“Two hours,” Drew said incredulously. “I won’t be able to finish this in two hours.”

“Really, Drew? Because I know Cameron could do it.”

He scowled. “I’m just as good as Cameron was.”

“Then prove it,” Kara said, standing up. She smiled, knowing the impact her words had made on Drew. “The rest of you, follow me.” Kara gestured with her hand for them to follow her over to the box in the corner. “Victor took away everything we loved. It’s time for us to return the favor.”

Marshall and Jeremiah squinted the moment they were led from the prison and out into the sun by Carver Brooks and his soldiers. Situated on both sides of them, cement barriers blocked their view of everything, further disorienting them. Their hands still in shackles and guns aimed at them from behind, they knew they were being marched to their deaths.

As they reached the end of the barriers, Brooks turned the corner, which elicited applause from a source they couldn’t see until they walked around the barriers themselves. Displayed before them was a sight that was enough to make them sick. Off to the left stood a stage, to which Brooks and Finn headed. To the right stood a row of soldiers, all in a straight line. An execution by firing squad.

Not surprisingly, they were led straight to the line of soldiers. There would be no chance for any last words. No chance for them to plead for their lives. Between the stage and the soldiers stood a person in plain clothing operating a video camera. This person stood underneath a large screen erected specifically so Brooks could see that their execution was being broadcast across the country to a public who had been fed nothing but his lies. But that wasn’t what disturbed them the most. Also positioned between the firing squad and the stage were bleachers packed full of onlookers, both young and old.

“I wonder what he charged for admission,” Jeremiah said, infuriated.

“They’re all victims, just like the rest of us,” Marshall said calmly.

“We’re not victims, my friend, we’re martyrs. I would rather serve Brooks than be remembered as a victim.”

The pair were led in front of the line of soldiers, where they were signaled to remain standing as the soldiers who led them there walked away to stand in front of the bleachers. Behind them stood a sheet of synthetic rubber to absorb any errant bullets.

“What? No blindfolds?” Marshall asked.

“Too cliché, perhaps,” Jeremiah replied.

“Sir,” Finn said to Brooks as he began to ascend the stairs to the stage. “Eric needs my assistance back in the video lab, so if you don’t mind I think I’ll skip the live show and assist him with the broadcast.”

“Suit yourself, Finn, but you’re going to be missing out on witnessing one of the highlights of my presidency to date.”

“I’m sure there will be many more of those to come, sir.” Finn watched Brooks climb the stairs toward the stage and then left in haste, making sure to catch Jeremiah’s attention as he went.

We stood in front of The Woodland Lodge. Though it had sustained some damage, it was still intact.

“He’s in there,” I said, almost in a whisper. “I can feel it. The air is heavy, like his evil has attached itself to it. It’s making it hard to breathe.”

“Celaine,” Ian said. My focus turned to him, yet all I saw in his eyes was the image of the lodge. “I need you to be strong. No matter what happens.” He touched his gloved hand to the side of my neck where it met my shoulder. “Promise me.”

“I’m making a lot of promises tonight.”

“And I expect you to keep them all.”

“I promise.”

Side-by-side, Ian and I ran up the stairs and, with one swift kick, burst through the doors of The Woodland Lodge. Inside, it was eerily quiet as though its occupants had abandoned it long before the blasts hit. A part of me felt a short-lived sense of relief until my thoughts reminded me what the silence may also mean. With our backs turned toward each other, Ian and I made our way through the foyer, each of us looking for the evil that had consumed our lives for far too long. The smoke covering the sky outside enveloped the inside of the lodge in darkness, as little light was able to come through the windows.

“Geez, this place has a lot of rooms,” Ian said. We entered the hallway, which was even darker than the foyer due to the lack of windows.

“All that means is that we’re going to waste a lot of time trying to find him,” I said. My heart beat rapidly, and I could feel myself becoming more on edge as my body prepared itself for the fight of my life.

I heard Ian turn the handle of the first door. “It looks like a dressing room,” he said, peeking inside. “Of all the rooms, I can’t picture him in there.”

“No,” I agreed. “If anything, he’s in one of the event rooms.” I scanned the hall while my eyes adjusted to the low level of light. Toward the end of the corridor, I saw a set of double doors. As though confirming the suspicions forming in my head, the hair on the back of my neck felt as though it was standing on end. “There,” I said, nodding toward the door. “We need to try in there first.”

Ian moved to lead the way, but I moved my body to push him behind me. “Okay, then,” he said, mildly annoyed. He angled his body around to stand next to me. “We face this room together.”

My hand hovered over the gun in my holster as the doors drew closer and closer, waiting for a sign, any sign, that we were headed in the right direction. At first, all that greeted us was silence, but that soon changed. When we were halfway down the hall, I could hear them. Their rustling was subtle, but I was still able to pick up both it and a barely audible crying sound. Any doubt I’d had at that moment was erased. They were in there, or at least someone was in there, which meant that more than likely Victor would be in there, too.

“Did you hear that?” I said quietly.

“Yes,” Ian whispered.

“Get your gun ready.” I drew my gun and aimed it toward the door in front of us. As we came within ten feet of the doorway, one of the doors creaked open slightly, allowing for a slit of light to come into the hallway. Ian and I glanced at each other, both of our bodies tensing as we held our guns out in front of us in a death grip. When the door didn’t open any further, we continued our walk toward it.

With each step, it seemed to become harder and harder for me to breathe as flashbacks of every nightmare I had experienced played in my head. Images of my parents’ SUV, how I last remembered it; images of George, Carol and Jake helpless as the parking structure collapsed around them. Now, instead of my family, Jim, Carrie, MaKayla and Chase were sitting in there just as helpless as they had been.

Right before we reached the door, Ian grabbed my arm and directed my attention toward him. “Stay with me,” he said, a reminder of our previous conversation.

I nodded my understanding to him, my breathing too heavy for me to make out the words, and, together, we placed our hands on each door and pushed. The doors creaked open, slowly exposing the inside of the room as we held our guns out in front of us. From inside, I could hear the rumblings of Victor’s prisoners growing louder, turning from forlorn to excitement when Ian and I stepped out of the shadows of the hallway and into one of The Woodland Lodge’s ceremony halls.

And then I saw them.

They sat in a circle at the altar, their hands bound together behind their backs and their ankles bound to each other. Chase, MaKayla, Jim, Carrie, Trey, and the blonde I only knew from afar—Chase’s fiancé. She wore her wedding dress, and her mascara ran down her face. Chase looked up at us. In his blue eyes I saw a mixture of fear and hope, albeit more fear than hope. Next to Chase, Makayla had to crane her head to see us, and my knees nearly buckled when I saw my almost little sister quivering in fear.

“Stay with me,” Ian whispered, possibly hearing me struggling to catch my breath.

The scene unfolding before me was surreal, as though I were living in one of my own nightmares. Except there was no waking up from this one, and its ending would be permanent, irreparable, and one I would have to live with for the rest of my life, however short that may be.

A part of me wondered whether Chase knew who I was, and whether Victor told him why he’d chosen them, but the blank stare I received from him told me that I was still a stranger to him. And I decided right now that I should stay that way until we all made it out of here safely. But the closer we came to them, the stronger their fear came to the surface, as though they were watching a countdown that only they could see. It hit me then that this had all been entirely too easy.

“He’s still here,” Chase blurted out.

“Shut up,” the blonde said. “He said he’d kill us.”

“He’s going to kill us anyway, Paige,” Chase said, resigned. “The Man in Black doesn’t leave survivors.”

“That sounds like Victor all right,” Ian muttered.

“Who’s Victor?” Chase asked.

“Someone we thought we knew.”

The sound of the doors slamming shut behind us shook the silence in the room to its core. From the altar, Paige emitted a scream so blood-curdling that it left little doubt as to who was responsible for her fear. And the heavy footsteps coming down the aisle only cemented it.

“Now, now, Dr. Matthews,” Victor said, his voice distorted by his mask. “I thought you understood the importance of our little chat earlier. Your little slip-up completely ruined the element of surprise.”