The Sphinx Project (16 page)

"Ow!" he yelped, stumbling back. He slammed into a couple behind him and a few other people turned in shock as they fell to the ground. I twisted out of his grip and ran back to the VIP room. I shoved the earpiece back in, to hear Nicole's voice crackle through it. "What's wrong? What's going on?"

I glanced around. Nicole and Briana were making their way onto the dance floor from a door on the other side of the room.

"Another change of plans," I said. "We can't wait for her to be alone."

I dashed past the man in the suit, motioning for Mouse to follow.

She leaped to her feet, chasing after me. The redhead at her side tried to grab her arm, but she tore free before he could tighten his grip. All of the men surged to follow her. I didn't stop until I reached the secluded area containing Marissa.

"What's going on?" Mouse asked.

"They know what we are."

"How?"

I pushed past the security guard on the door. "I don't know." Breezing into the room, I didn't wait for an introduction. "I need to speak to Ms. Hamilton. The rest of you have to leave."

The men and women adorned in expensive clothing turned in shock to the lady reclined on a red sofa. She nodded slightly, staring at me with cold eyes.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" she asked after the last of her guests filed out. Her tone could have frozen water.

"Yes," I replied. "Of course I do. I'm going to get some answers from you."

"I have no reason to help you," she said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be leaving now."

Matt and the rest of the men came into the room as she stood.

"You have to tell us what we want to know. You owe us that much at least. Guy was following your orders, and because of you, he's dead."

"I owe you absolutely nothing. I told you not to contact me again," she said coolly, ignoring my words. "What part of that did you not understand?"

Matt moved forward, walking past me to stand behind her. How on earth was he involved in this? He was barely older than me. And he was human.

"We don't have a choice. We don't know anyone else who can help us. We won't let you go until you've answered our questions," I replied, my tone as icy as hers. "I need to know what's going on. Obviously, you have some idea."

"What is it that I'm supposed to know?" She took a sip of the clear liquid in her glass, watching me over the rim.

"The infection, for a start. What is it?"

She stared at me defiantly. "You wouldn't understand if I told you. That's not how you're programmed."

"Try me."

"They began the program with only one train of thought—to modify the subjects in utero. This is the program that created you."

Our creation was inspired by the half-animal, half-human creatures of mythology. Their aim was to create the perfect warrior through a combination of animal and human genes. I understood that well enough.

"I was involved in the genetic mutation project," she continued. "I made you. Later a second branch evolved, attempting to modify the genome in living subjects. I can't tell you all the scientific reasoning behind this process. All I know is that it is a virus spread via contact with body fluid.

"They were never able to fine-tune the virus to a viable standard. The result is simply an inhumane creature, devoid of emotion or reasoning.

"It all went horribly wrong, but they decided to keep experimenting on them anyway, seeing if they could garner the results they wanted. I left a long time ago. Things could have changed dramatically since my time."

I didn't know why she said I wouldn't understand—she'd not told us anything of use. "And that's all you know?" I asked.

"Yes."

"You don't know the best way to dispose of them?"

"No."

I fell silent for a moment. This whole trip had been a waste of time and money. We'd learned nothing more than what we already knew and we'd been exposed.

"Did you know they want you back?"

"Well, of course they want us back." How could she think this would be news?

"No, I mean they want
you
back."

"So I've been told," I responded dryly.

"Do you have any idea why?"

"No. I bet you can tell me, though."

"I could, but it'll cost you."

"How much?" I asked cautiously.

Before she could reply, a commotion broke out in the club. Leaping to her feet, she stalked to the door of the VIP section. We followed. The ruckus grew louder, screams filled the air.

A team of men swarmed into the club, all of them dressed in black. The party-goers surged to the doors, but were stopped by guns pointed at their faces. One girl tried to squeeze past, but the man in her way slammed the back of his hand across her face. She spun to the floor, landing heavily. She didn't move.

Searching the dance floor, Nicole was easy to find. Surrounded by terrified people, the horror on her face was obvious. Briana seemed to be saying something, a sneer curling her lips. I couldn't hear her words due to the music reverberating around the room, at odds to the terror of the people.

Nicole's expression turned to absolute fury. She drew back her fist and punched Briana in the face.

What was going on? What had Briana done?

Chapter Nineteen

"Run!"

Nicole's single word echoed in my ear. Briana buckled, grabbing her nose. Blood dripped, falling onto her pale pink dress. I couldn't move for several seconds; I wanted to obey, but I couldn't leave her.

She, too, turned, searching for a way out. She made for the door they'd arrived by, but Briana, recovered from the blow, grabbed her hand. She yanked Nicole back, aiming an elbow at her temple. Nicole blocked it, retaliating with a strike to Briana's neck.

Briana buckled, but it was too late. The men surrounded Nicole. They surged forth as one, forcing her to fight off several at the same time. They weren't stupid. They knew they couldn't send one at a time. As she turned to face one of the men between us, she caught sight of me.

Desperation filled her face and she screamed again.

"Go!"

As the single syllable left her lips, one of the men got close enough to wrap his arms around her from behind. His weight restrained her enough for a second to come to his aid.

I stepped forward, intending to disobey Nicole, but Matt stopped me. I tried to tug my arm free but he wouldn't release me.

"Don't even think about it."

"Let go," I said softly, my voice deceptively calm.

"There's no point."

He was right. My eyes were drawn to the dance floor again, in time to see pain race across her face. Seeing her like this was enough to make me hurt.

The struggle only lasted a second. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed into their waiting arms. One of the men held a needle of some sort. He pocketed it and lifted her, flinging her limp body over his shoulder. Another did the same with Briana. My lungs didn't want to work. I couldn't make myself breath in and the sound faded around me.

What had Briana done? She'd betrayed us—she had to have. Why else would Nicole have punched her?

The rest of the men spread out across the room, their eyes skimming the crowded dance floor, searching for us. They sorted through the girls, inspecting each and every wrist.

I crouched out of view, hiding behind the rest of the people. I tried to regain my breath and focus on getting Nicole back. Where we stood wasn't going to be safe for long. They'd reach the edge of the group soon enough. I spun around, trying to find another exit.

There was no way out except the main entrance and the door through which Briana and Nicole had arrived. Both were blocked by gun-toting men.

"Matt, get her out of here now!" Marissa ordered scathingly, surprising me.

Matt sprang into action immediately. He tugged me behind the frosted glass of Marissa's VIP area. Mouse followed directly behind. Even in the seriousness of the situation, I couldn't help but notice she'd referred only to me, not Mouse.

"Everyone on your knees!" a harsh voice rang out as the pulsing music fell silent. I could hear hiccups and whimpers. Everyone shuffled to the ground. "Check the VIP area."

There were no doors, we were trapped. Heavy boot steps neared, their outline visible on the other side of the foggy glass. I reached for the blades at my thighs when Matt released my hand, drawing them free.

"Put them away," Matt muttered, pulling aside an oriental wall-hanging a similar shade of red to the couch.

The embroidered fabric had been hiding a secret door. If one knew what to look for, it would have been the most obvious place, but hidden passageways weren't exactly expected in a nightclub.

Matt lifted a key from beneath his shirt, fitting it in the lock and twisting it open. The thick metal door swung open with a slight creak. He pushed us through and followed after.

As he turned to close the door behind us, two armed men appeared. They were surprised to see us but hastily leveled their weapons. A single shot fired. It hit the reinforced door with a sickening crash. I covered my ears, the noise hurting my head. Inside, people began screaming and crying again.

Someone yanked on the handle, but it didn't shift an inch.

I could hear Matt's clothes rustle when he moved, but I couldn't see a single thing. His footsteps rang against the metal platform upon which we stood, echoing in the darkness. Not a single pinprick of light pierced the blackness that surrounded us.

The seal around the door was tight. Before Matt had closed it, I'd caught sight of the low roof and steps leading down. I tried not to move my feet in case I was closer to them than I thought. I'd been too distracted by the armed men to be paying the attention I should have been. I had noticed one thing though; there had been a rail somewhere. I reached out, feeling around.

I found it, slightly to my left. The fingers of my good hand closed around the cold metal bar. Rust flaked against my palm, the fragments sticking to my skin. I inched my feet closer so I wasn't so unbalanced, sliding them along the dented metal.

"Come out and maybe we'll spare your sister."

I squealed as the words sounded right in my ear, delivered by the radio receiver. I could hear faint laughter behind the door.

I steeled myself against their voices. I knew they were playing with me but I couldn't help thinking about their offer.

"Don't do it, Michaela." Mouse's voice was serious, punctuated by the fact that she used my full name. She never called me Michaela.

"Do what?" Matt sounded confused.

"They offered a trade. Her for her sister."

Something metallic chinked against the rail. It rang slightly, vibrating against my palm. Light flared from a small flashlight in Matt's hand, allowing us to see our surroundings again.

"You might as well come out. You have thirty seconds before we come in after you," the voice in my ear said.

"And how are you planning to do that?" I asked shakily.

"Twenty-nine…twenty-eight…"

I yanked the earpiece out, but I could still hear it.

"We need to get out of here. Now," I said, turning to Matt.

"Follow me." He hurried down the steep metal stairs with surprising accuracy. My heart almost missed a beat as I tripped, the heel of my sandal catching on a grate on one of the steps. I caught the railings at the last moment, stopping myself from tumbling into Matt.

I dragged myself up and tore off the shoes. I shoved them through the gap between the steps, into the darkness below. As they fell, I cursed myself. I should have left them for the men to trip over.

As we descended, a musty scent assailed my nose. A harsh dryness made it difficult to breathe. The air hit the back of my throat; it was like a barrier blocked it from my lungs. I swallowed and tried to ignore the discomfort.

Reaching the end of the stairs, a low tunnel stretched in front of us as far as I could see. The arched brick ceiling was low, forcing Matt to duck his head. The cramped conditions didn't hinder him in the slightest. Support columns extended from the walls on either side, making the corridor seem narrower than it really was.

I accelerated too and I could also hear Mouse's bare feet slapping against the slippery concrete. He moved well for a human.

For some reason I couldn't block the faint voice from the radio. "One…zero."

BOOM.
Brick shattered and metal squealed. Terrified screams rang far behind us.

"Keep going," Matt yelled back over his shoulder.

The stairs and the tunnel channeled the force of the explosion toward us. The power almost made me trip, like a too-strong tail-wind.

Heavy boots sounded on the stairs. The rhythm was steady, but the steepness slowed them a lot. The metal reverberated, the noise bouncing back and forth between the walls.

"How many do you hear?" Matt asked.

"I don't know," I said. The echoes made it hard to distinguish between individual noises. "At least six."

"At least," Mouse agreed, "probably more."

"Are you armed?" he asked as we continued down the straight tunnel.

This was going to get dangerous. Soon they'd be able to see us. That was all the men needed. They didn't have to catch up with us—they had guns. Why hadn't we brought any? I mentally slapped myself.

We could leave him behind,
I thought,
but would we be able to find our way out of this place on our own?

"Only knives. How long until we're out of this tunnel?" I asked.

"More than a mile."

We weren't
that
fast. We'd never outrun them. I assessed our surroundings. We could hide behind the support beams lining the tunnel. We'd have to rely on the hope that they weren't checking behind them. But then what? We couldn't go back and surely they'd turn around eventually. We'd be stuck here.

"We'll have to ambush them." The ringing boot-steps descended. I kept my voice low to ensure we'd catch them by surprise. Sometimes the best defense was a good offense. "We'll wait behind the beams and when they pass, we'll take them out from behind. One by one."