The Believers (The Breeders Series - Book 2) (26 page)

Somewhere down the hallway there is a crash. A scream. The mutants are tearing the place to pieces and these men do nothing to stop it.

I step forward and one of them points his rifle at me.

“Step back!” he shouts. They're dressed plainly with thick boots and tough denim pants. Like they’re ready for battle. Who are they going to battle with? “Go back to your rooms,” he says again.

I spread my hands out in a show of surrender. “Why are you doing this? You have to let us out.”

“By order of the Messiah and our new sovereign leader, Andrew, no one is to leave this building until instructed. It's been foreseen.”

Mage is as stiff as a statue beside me. “The Messiah is dead.”

“His spirit lives on,” says the one to the right. His voice is robotic. “We must follow him home.”

“What about the children?” I ask, unable to keep the disgust out of my voice. “Are they to follow him home, too?” How can these men sentence their own children to death? I swallow hard and lock eyes with one of them. He won't look at me, but there’s worry in his face. The other sets his rifle into his shoulder socket and raises it at me.

“I'm gonna count to ten,” he growls. “Ten. Nine.” His finger curls around the trigger. “Eight.”

“Fine!” I yell. “Let's go.”

“Seven. Six.”

We run back to the Willow Room. When we get there, all eyes turn on us. My gaze falls on the children, their round cheeks and giant pleading eyes. Mama holds a little boy in her lap and gently strokes his straight brown hair. All the children are boys, now that I think about it. A three-year-old boy with golden hair like Mage clings to Prema's knee. Two preteen boys sit with their backs to the wall, their eyes downcast. It's odd that they're all boys. And the Forgotten are all women. It feels like I'm missing something. Something important.
Prema waddles over to us, her brown face puckered like a raisin. “What did those cowards say?” Her frown is the same, etched into her skin, but her eyes look different somehow. Like she really sees me this time. The last time we spoke she was scolding me about my plunge and scrub technique. Now she peers at me like she really wants to know what I have to say.

Mage shakes her head, her shoulders slumping.

“Why are they doing this?” I ask no one and everyone.

Mage's gaze drifts off in the distance. “It's what we've always feared. The evil ones are coming.”

Her words strike my chest like a hammer. “The evil ones?”

“Yes,” Mage says, large eyes meeting mine. “The people from the hospital. The Breeders.”

I gasp. Beside me, Clay whirls at her words. “The Breeders? They're coming here?”

So many thoughts whirl through my head: poison, suicides, the Breeders. I can't catch my breath. My hand circles the ankh brand on my wrist over and over. What will they do to us if they catch us? I can't begin to imagine.

“We have to run.” The desperation in Clay's voice is immediate and frightening. He leans down and levels Mage with a serious look. “How long 'til they're here?”

Mage nods. “Tomorrow. That's all I know.”

I think about Dr. Nessa Vandewater's cruel blue eyes and awful images flash through my mind. We can't be here when they arrive. None of them should be either.

“We need a way out and fast.” I start to pace back and forth across the room. We could go for weapons, but they’re all in the hands of the Brotherhood. We could try to break out of the mall, but that would take more time than we got. No one knows when the Brotherhood plans to poison us. And the Forgotten are on a rampage.

Clay steps in front of me, breaking my thoughts. “We fight,” he says, punching a fist into his palm. “We don't roll over and die.”

I place my hand on his. “We got one gun.”

He frowns. “Then we find a way to bust out.”

I look from him to Mage. She's standing with her back to the wall, furiously folding a paper animal, though it’s a sloppy mess. I walk to her. “Mage,” I say quietly, touching her frantic hands, “We need you. You're the one who knows your dad's mind.”

She crumples the paper animal in her fist.

“You might not want to think about him, but it's the only way we can save the children.” I point to the wide-eyed kids in the back. One is sobbing into Prema’s large chest.

Mage looks up at me, her eyes growing round. Is she thinking of her dad? How he looked as he pulled the trigger on Clay's gun? I want to spare her this, but I can't.

“What does your dad have planned? How would he have them take out the whole Citadel in one swoop?”

She shakes her head and points to the corner. “Ask Lavan.”

Lavan? The last we saw him he was being attacked by the Forgotten. A body lies slumped in a heap, facing the wall.

I walk over. “How did he get here?”

Yusuf rubs a hand over his wrinkled forehead. “He limped in here while you were out negotiating with the guards.” Yusuf scrunches up his piggy nose. “He's a bloody mess and smells terrible. We put him in the corner.”

I walk over, Clay at my back. Lavan lies curled in a fetal position, knees to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. There's dried blood on a gash in his hair and vomit on his shirt. We tried questioning him before and got nothing. I look up at Clay. “How did he get here?”

Yusuf rubs a hand over his wrinkled forehead. “He limped in here while you were out negotiating with the guards.” Yusuf scrunches up his piggy nose. “He's a bloody mess and smells terrible. We put him in the corner.”

I look at Clay. “You think it's worth trying again?”

Clay screws his mouth down and sighs big. “What choice we got?”

I kneel beside Lavan. Yusuf is right, he smells awful. I breathe through my mouth and try not to look at the vomit on his shirt. “Lavan.” I shake his shoulder. “Lavan!”

He moans and his dark eyelashes flutter. I shake him again. This time when the lashes flutter they slowly reveal bloodshot eyes.

“Hi there,” I say as kindly as I can. “It's me, Riley. Remember?”

Confusion fills his face. His swollen lips work over some word that never makes it out of his throat. Instead, an awful-smelling burp escapes.

“Wish you hadn't drank all that wine,” I mumble as I bat the smell away. I shake his shoulder again. “We need you to sit up, okay?”

He frowns, but I give him no time to protest. I pull him up by his soiled shirt collar and get him into a sitting position against the wall. His eyes roll back in his head.

“Lavan, we need to know about the Messiah's plan.” I lean closer, my tone not so nice anymore. “Look at me!”

His eyes flutter open and his pupils dilate. “Dust girl.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Andrew hates you.”

I frown. “I'm sure he does.” I lean back from his breath. “Lavan, what’s the Messiah planning? We need to know. Now.”

Sadness fills Lavan's face. He shakes his shaggy head and grits what's left of his teeth. “Andrew wouldn't even give me a mask. Or a gun. Gave me hole duty without a gun.” His lead slips down to his chest. When he starts to sniffle, I shake his shoulders again.

“What do you mean give you a mask? What kind of mask?”

“Gas mask,” he says, sniffling. He runs a hand sloppily under his running nose, smearing a streak of snot on his cheek.

I grip his shoulder until he snaps his head up. Then I stare into his eyes. One is cloudy like the Messiah’s; the other is a surprising green. “Lavan,” I say slowly, “why would you need a gas mask?”

He looks up at me, his chin quivering. “It's the plan for the end. The Messiah's emergency plan for if the Breeders ever came.” Lavan hiccups, burps, and continues. “We all go home.” He drops his head. “It's better than becoming an abomination.” His eyes flick to my mother.

I lean back, my head buzzing. Then it's confirmed. They do plan on poisoning everyone. The group has gathered behind me. They all look down with scared faces.

Mage nods. “Papa said if the bad people ever came, he'd never let them get me.”

Clay puts a hand on my shoulder. “So he'd kill them all to keep them from the Breeders? Mage said they're coming tomorrow. Is that true?” Clay asks Lavan, his hand squeezing the life out of my shoulder.

Lavan shakes his head. “Dunno. After the Messiah died, Andrew said the Messiah killed himself to show us all it would be okay. That we should follow.”

“How does he plan to do it?” I ask Lavan, my heart slamming into my chest. “How could he kill everyone in the mall at once?”

Lavan doesn't lift his head, so his next words are hard to hear. “Sprinkler system.”

“The what?” Clay asks.

Mage points to the ceiling. A rusty silver arm protrudes from a pipe there. I've seen the pipes in other parts of the mall too.

“What is that?” Ethan asks, coming over and peering up at the circular metal wheel on the rusty pipe arm.

Rayburn jumps up. “The sprinkler system. Oh, Jesus.” He grips his curls in his hands. “The Messiah would've, uh, would've had to find the main water line and hook up his drum of corrosive liquid. Acid maybe if he found the right type.” Realization dawns on his face. “HF. Hydrofluoric acid.” He slaps a hand to his cheek. “That's why it would be stored in a p-p-plastic container. He could, uh, could deliver it through the sprinklers. It would eventually eat through the metal, but not before killing everyone in the m-m-mall.” He squeezes his fists together. “We'd be d-d-dead in minutes.”

Mage nods. “My papa was working on the sprinkler system a lot last year. He wanted Andrew to test it and fix the lines that were clogged.” Mage slumps down the wall, her knees tenting her jumper. “Why would he do this?”

I follow the sprinkler pipe with my eyes until it disappears beyond the wall. “Where's the main water system?”

Mage lifts her head, sniffing. “Don't know. In the back, maybe.”

“Lavan?” But his eyes are closed again and no amount of shaking rouses him this time.

“It's in the basement.” Prema pushes up and points a brown arthritic finger at the sprinkler. “I've seen it. We had trouble with the wash water last season. I walked down to the filtration system to speak to the engineer.”

“So, we go to the basement.” I stand. “Clay, Mage, Rayburn, and I'll go down and disconnect the acid. Then we find a way out.”

Mage looks up with wet eyes. “If the acid is down there, it's gonna be guarded. If I know my papa, he would've planned for someone to try to disconnect it.” She stares up at me, her eyes round gray orbs. “Riley, he really believed he was helping us by sending us home. He won't care who’s killed. Walking in there'll be a death mission.”

I look at Clay, a sick unease settling in my stomach. “It won't be our first.”

Gunshots and screams echo down dark hallways. We sneak through the passages, barely breathing. We pass a storefront splashed with blood. The smell of smoke spikes the air as we slip by a large department store. This whole place is a ticking time bomb.

Clay limps silently beside me, his face locked tight, jaw rigid, eyes flitting back and forth as he scans for enemies. He glances at me, nods and then points at a scuffle going on twenty yards from us. Two mutants attack a male Believer in one of the storefronts. The crazed mutants claw and bite. The Believer fights back with what looks like a chair leg, clubbing mercilessly. The mutants take the blows like they can't even feel them. They throw themselves on the man like a pair of rabid dogs, with flashing teeth and sprays of blood. I clutch Mage’s arm and pull her away.

Mage leads us to the back of the mall, an area so poorly lit we nearly collide into one another when one of us stops. The walls are empty of the faded posters and flashy signs that decorate what’s left of the stores. Here it’s bare walls and hard tile. Small black doors line the hallway with plastic signs that read, “Employees Only,” and “Security and Surveillance: Authorized Personnel only.” It's quieter here, nothing but an electric hum that buzzes my teeth. I’ll take buzzing over screams any day.

We follow her to a door that reveals an even darker staircase. We step into darkness, palms running along the cool metal railing. The four of us bump to a stop at the bottom, squinting into the dark. Down the long hallway, the hum is louder and there's another noise too, a mechanical whir like a fan. A hand touches my arm and I flinch. Mage wraps cold fingers around my wrists. I reach for Clay. Rayburn scoots up behind us and his hand touches the small of my back. Then, linked together, we shuffle down the hallway toward the sound.

Ahead, a triangle of light cuts into the hall from an open door. We creep up to it, press our backs to the wall and listen. No sound, no voices, but that tells us nothing. From what Mage says there should be guards. What if they're heavily armed? We got one gun and two bullets.

Clay leans over and whispers in my ear. “I'm going in.”

“Don't!” I whisper.

He pulls away from my grasp.

“No, Clay!”

He leans his head into the light.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my heart pounding.

Silence. Clay takes a step forward, peering into the room, gun aimed. Illuminated like this, he looks stunning. I stare at his handsome face and love slams into my heart. My life would shatter if I lost him and I'd have little reason to pick up the shards. How did I let us grow so far apart? How was I so stupid?

He turns and smiles at me. “No guards,” he says. “Come on.”

Rayburn slides into the light next to Clay. There's a noise from inside the room. They turn and their faces contort into an expression of … fear? I step forward as if in slow motion, my hand reaching. “Clay!”

A gun explodes.

I watch in horror as both the men fall, a spray of blood arching into the light.

I stare, unable to process. Clay said it was fine. There were no guards.

I fall to my knees and grab for Clay. My hand reaches for his bunched shirt. The click of a trigger sounds from the open door. Another gunshot cracks through the air. I duck. The wall behind me explodes, peppering my neck and back with debris. I dive to the floor and curl into a ball. My ears ring. My heart pounds. I need to get away. I need to get everyone away.

Someone screams. Mage. She's screaming in the hallway. I uncurl and flick a glance at the shooter. He's a Brotherhood member in plain denim and heavy boots. His hair is thick and messy like a beaver pelt. His shaggy beard curls wildly from his chin and cheeks. He's fumbling with the pistol, trying to reload with slow fingers. He looks like he's never loaded a gun before. He shakes a lock of damp hair out of his eyes as he fumbles a bullet into the open chamber.