Shadowstorm (Sorcery and Science Book 6) (29 page)

“Lab 12,” Marin told Leonidas. “How does Lab 12 look remotely like Storage Hall 2?”

He shrugged. “There’s a ‘2’ in both.”

“There’s a ‘2’ in a lot of numbers. How about we pull up a map of the facility and figure out where the actual Storage Hall 2 is?” She leaned against a corner shelf attached to the bend in the hallway, looking over the computer sitting there. Her fingers tapped out a repeating rhythm on the countertop. “Hmm. Password. If I were a Varenese scientist, what would my password be?”

“Varen is king,” suggested Leonidas.

“Impregnable?” Ariella asked.

“The writing is on the wall,” Everett said.

Marin shot him a perplexed look. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Sure, it does.” Everett held up the fire escape procedure plan he’d torn off the wall. It wasn’t high-tech, but it had a dandy map of the entire building. And he didn’t need to hack into some demon of a security system to read it. “If we take this hall to the second intersection, then turn right, Storage Hall 2 should be right there.”

Voices were pouring down the hall from an open door, which meant the guards had finally moved their investigation indoors. The hall wasn’t that long. It was only a matter of time before the guards discovered their little party of intruders hovering around the computer.

Time to break up the party then,
Everett thought. He waved the others along. And thanks to the fire escape procedure plan, they were soon standing in front of Storage Hall 2. Everett peered through the tiny glass spy hole in the door, but he couldn’t see anything in that light.

“About ten meters from the door is the first row of racks,” Ariella said, looking too. The glow of her violet eyes reflected off the glass, their contrast to the dim orange hall lights more than a little spooky. “The racks are loaded with storage boxes. There are other rows behind that one, but I can’t tell how many.”

“We’re looking for box number 428C-14.” Everett looked for a knob on the door and was surprised not to find one. He brushed his fingers across the smooth surface, searching in vain for a latch or lever…or handhold of any sort.

“Allow me,” Marin said with a smile, squeezing past him. She pressed a button on the wall, and the door swooshed open.

“The Varenese sure have fancy doors,” Everett said.

Behind him, Leonidas grunted in agreement. “They wouldn’t have been able to hold off two very big empires for so long if they didn’t have a trick or two up their sleeves.”

Ariella and Marin had already entered the storage hall. Everett and Leonidas were on their way in when gunshots went off from the other end of the hallway. They dove inside the storage hall, and the door slid shut right behind them. Marin had found some way to lock it—or she’d at least sabotaged the opening mechanism. Only a few seconds after the door smacked against the soles of Everett’s boots, an orchestra of bullets tap-danced across the door.

“Will that hold?” Ariella asked.

Everett looked at the door. “It looks like a high-tech reinforced steel vault door.”

“In other words,” Marin cut in. “It will hold.”

Leonidas hopped to his feet. “At least until they begin throwing something with a bit more kick at the door.”

Marin nodded. “What he said.”

Ariella swallowed hard. “Then we’d best find that artifact fast, before the guards set their mechanical menaces on us.”

“Ariella, there’s no evidence that the Varenese have developed fighting machines anywhere as sophisticated as the ones we saw in the Hellean cities,” Marin said. “Based on what I’ve seen of their technology, they have a few neat tricks, but they aren’t otherwise any more advanced than the Selpes.”

“Somehow, I don’t find that the least bit comforting.” Ariella’s eyes turned on the door, which was no longer thumping with the percussion beat of colliding bullets. Then she looked back at Everett. “Leonidas and I will keep watch here. Do you think you and Marin can manage the artifact?”

He gave her an uneven half-smile. “I’ll try not to drop it.”

“Good,” she said, and turned her attention back to the door.

Everett ran for the gap between the racks, scanning each row as he came to it.
100, 110, 120…
The rows before him seemed endless.
190, 200, 210…
Marin was keeping up with his brisk run, which he hadn’t expected.
320, 330, 340…
Cameron had said the box was on shelf 428C.

An ear-splitting roar shook the storage halls, followed by the staccato pulse of gunfire. The guards had found that ‘something’ with a bit more kick and had blasted through the doors.

“Stop.” Everett caught Marin by the arm as she turned to run back. “We’re already here. Let’s get the artifact. They can hold off a few guards.”

She nodded, even though she didn’t look any more convinced by his words than he was. He sped-read past the labels on the boxes.

“428C-14,” he said, yanking the box off the shelf. He threw open the lid and found a now-familiar piece of smooth silver metal inside. “Ok, let’s go.” He stuffed the artifact inside his backpack, then ran back down the aisle.

The return trip didn’t feel any faster, even though he was pushing himself so hard now that his lungs felt about ready to burst through his chest. As soon as the final row came into sight, he went even faster, prompting his body to add flaming legs to its list of grievances.

Everett drew his gun as he whipped past the rack—and then just stopped. What little remained of the door dangled from the blasted opening in skeletal folds of warped, razor-sharp metal. Two guards were down inside the opening, probably shot while trying to squeeze through the hazard-spiked entrance. There was also a man sitting at the wall, blinking hard as blood dripped down his arm from a bullet wound in his shoulder. None of the other guards had managed to make it inside; Leonidas and Ariella were holding them off. For now.

“Get behind the rack,” Everett told Marin.

He stepped forward, both guns raised… An arrow shot past his ear, grazing his skin. He staggered sideways, and one of his guns went off. The bullet hammered against the trashcan by the door. Everett looked up at the enormous Elition glowering down from the walkway above.

The man looked like he’d stepped straight out of a bodybuilding magazine, and the fitted black vest he wore as a top wasn’t helping matters. Nor did the high-tech bow he had aimed directly at Everett. His shimmering bronze eyes didn’t blink, not even for a second, but with each passing moment, they grew more and more gold. A Phantom. Fantastic. All this party needed now was an incensed Triad.

The guards in the hallway had stopped shooting, if only for the moment. While Leonidas kept his eyes—and gun—trained on them, Ariella stepped around a broken piece of door. She swung herself up onto the walkway with the precision of a gymnast and the grace of a ballerina. She drew her sword, swinging it at the Phantom.

“There appear to be multiple door layers. They only blasted apart one of them,” Marin said from beside the door, and Leonidas nodded.

She hadn’t listened to Everett and stayed back where it was safe, which actually wasn’t all that surprising from someone who had been crazy enough to compete in the Solstice Games. It’s a good thing people with a touch of craziness were just what Everett needed.

“I’m going to see if I can get one of the other door layers closed,” she said.

That wasn’t, in fact, a bad plan. Guards were streaming down the hallway toward Storage Hall 2. It felt as though the entire population of the island were being summoned there. They were being overrun.

“Ok, I can get the next door layer closed,” Marin told Everett as he moved toward her, shooting the guard who had been aiming for her.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Leonidas said, joining them. “We don’t want to be stuck in here with
him
.”

He pointed up at the Phantom fighting Ariella on the walkway. Well, perhaps fighting was the wrong word. It was more like demolishing. Everett had always considered Ariella to be a good fighter, but right now she was having her ass handed to her. Her sword lay below, on the floor of the storage bay. At some point, the Phantom must have knocked it out of her hand.

So she was fighting weaponless against the bow he was wielding like a staff. Usually, that wouldn’t have been a problem for her. She was fast. Unfortunately, the Phantom was faster. And stronger. Bloody crimson streaks were smeared across her hands and face—and dripped from her silver hair. She stood stiffly and huffed out shallow breaths, as though she had a broken rib or two. Or more.

Everett aimed his gun at the Phantom, but before he could shoot, it flared up with a scalding heat. He dove for the gun he’d fumbled, saying, “I don’t think we have much of a choice. Marin, close the door.”

It swooshed shut, cutting off the still-growing horde of guards stalking down the hall.
Seriously, where did all these people come from?

“How long will it hold this time?” he asked her as the door thumped behind him.

“Longer, I hope. I got all of them closed. That’s five more layers they have to burn through.”

“Do you have the artifact?” Leonidas asked.

Everett nodded.

“Then let’s grab Ariella and find a way out of here. I’m running out of bullets,” Leonidas said, reloading his gun.

Everett looked up at the walkway. “Have you been able to shoot him?”

“No.” He frowned. “When I tried, that demon burned my hand with my own gun.”

Ariella smashed against the railing, nearly toppling over the edge. Catching herself, she stared down at them, a shine in her violet eyes that seemed almost to speak to them. Gripping the rail, she hopped over and kicked her legs around toward the Phantom. Her boots hit him hard in the head. A blow like that should have knocked out anyone, even an Elition. But not this Phantom. He cracked his neck with a smirk—right before he kicked back. A brutal crunch echoed through the hall, and Ariella stumbled over, holding to her leg.

The Phantom picked her up and tossed her over the rail. As she dropped, she twisted, managing to hit the ground in a crouch. Her ankle collapsed beneath her.

“Let’s go.” She hopped one-legged over to her sword, dragging the other leg behind her like a wet rag. She sheathed her sword, then extended her hop to the door.

“You can’t walk,” Marin said.

Ariella slid her hand over her forehead, slicking back her blood-soaked bangs. “He broke several bones in my leg.”

“How long will they take to heal?” Everett asked.

“Too long. My body is still busy healing other things.”

Everett tossed Marin the bag with the artifact, then held out his hand to Ariella. “I’ll carry you.”

Ariella looked at his hand, hesitating. No doubt she thought being carried piggyback off the battlefield was unworthy of a tough sword-wielding warrior such as herself. Her gaze shifted to the Phantom staring down at them. He hadn’t made a move to follow them, even though he could have already wiped the floor with them all at least five times over.

“What’s he waiting for?” Marin asked.

Ariella’s face paled beneath the splattering of blood. “For us to run.”
 

The door was rocking with ominous vibrations. Whatever the guards were throwing at it now, it sure was potent. The door wouldn’t hold for much longer.

“He wants to chase us?” Leonidas asked.

“He’s a Phantom,” she said, as though that explained everything. Maybe it did. Phantoms could be awfully primal. One look at their eyes said that clearly enough.

Ariella took Everett’s hand. “Don’t tell Terra.”

“That you had to be carried to safety?” Snorting, he pulled her onto his back. “So did she once.”

The door was rocking like a raging bull. Everett turned and, holding tightly to Ariella, ran back down the aisles of storage racks. Marin followed closely behind him, and Leonidas took up the rear. Above them, boots clinked against metal, but the sound of the Phantom’s run was drowned out by the roar of exploding metal and concrete.

Everett didn’t look back. There wasn’t any point. Sucking in air, he raced for the back. There would be another door there. There just had to be. If the Varenese felt the need to post fire evacuation maps at every hallway intersection, then surely they were sensible enough to have a back door to the enormous storage hall.

“Phantoms,” Leonidas cursed from the back of the line.

The Phantom must have been getting closer because Leonidas fired off a few shots. Everett didn’t know if he’d hit their hunter—or whether it would make any difference anyway, if he had. It would probably take more than their combined ammunition to take down the Phantom. Everett stole a look up—and immediately wished that he hadn’t.

There wasn’t just one walkway above them. There were many, and they weren’t all connected. Not that the Phantom seemed to notice. He ran in leaping strides from walkway to walkway like an enormous tiger.

“There,” Ariella said, her arm stretching past his shoulder.

A yellow rectangle shone out against the the white wall. As he got closer, Everett saw that it was, in fact, a door. Maybe it led down into the underground tunnel. Maybe it led outside. At this point, Everett didn’t even care. They needed to get out of there. Somewhere behind them, the Phantom landed with a soft whisper. Everett didn’t want to know how close he was. He sprinted forward and reached for the handle, willing it to be unlocked.

It turned smoothly. Without stopping for a breath, he sped into a stairwell. But it didn’t lead down. It led up.

“Go up to the roof,” Ariella told him. “Our ride off the island is waiting.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me.”

As Everett began to run up the stairs, he called back to Marin and Leonidas, “Try to jam the door!”

That’s all he could get out before his convulsing lungs choked out all further words. It took every bit of willpower he had to keep running up those stairs—and keep breathing too. Breathing was actually much harder than it sounded. Ariella was too skinny to be called a heavy load, but she wasn’t exactly weightless either. And Everett was having enough trouble getting just himself up the never-ending stairs.