“It seems more likely that no one’s been able to get back into the city since the announcement,” Roman whispered back.
Don’t let your guard down, I thought, counting the floors we passed. Main garage, lobby, first floor…
Priyanka stepped up again, dealing with the keycard pad. There was a small window on the door that gave us a clear sight of the empty hallway. Roman pressed his finger to his lips and held his gun with his other hand as he slowly shouldered the door open.
My chest was burning, and my ragged breaths sounded louder in the complete and utter silence of the floor. A few scattered ceiling lights were on above the rows of gray cubicles. The lines of desks stretched from one end of the building to the other. I swept the phone’s camera around, capturing them, then shook my head at the others. Next floor.
The second floor was just as shadowed as the first had been, but the setup was entirely different. The stairwell opened to two long hallways: one that stretched straight ahead to a dead end at a covered window and another that ran to its right, cutting off abruptly at two heavy doors labeled QUARANTINE.
My tennis shoes let out a horrible squeak as we took to the one ahead of us. I stopped dead, bracing myself for someone to jump out from behind one of the doors. Priyanka glided forward like she was stepping across clouds. Roman shook his head as she reached for the handle of the nearest door, but she ignored him, pushing it open. I kept the phone recording.
An office. A desk, a crammed bookshelf, piles of papers, and an extra pair of high heels under the desk. We didn’t need to go any farther to know that the others would be exactly the same. All the electrical pulses I felt were identical. All of them were sparks compared to the roar of power that was coming from behind the heavy sliding doors at the end of the other hallway.
This time I led, and the others followed. The hallway seemed to darken at its edges as I moved toward the doors. My heart was beating so hard, so wild now, I couldn’t have spoken even if I’d needed to. I reached out and pressed the button on the wall, letting the doors hiss open.
But the second I released the button to move ahead, the doors slid shut again.
“They probably only open from this side,” Roman said.
“Only when I’m not here,” Priyanka whispered back. “Open sesame.”
Cold, sterile air swept past us, running its icy fingers along my cheeks and through my hair. I fought back a shudder as Roman went straight for the box of surgical masks posted on the wall, passing one to each of us. I held mine over my mouth, grateful to have something to ward off some of the chemical stench. Goose bumps trailed up over my arms and the back of my neck. This section was even darker than the others had been; only one light shone down from the ceiling as we passed the hospital-like rooms with their many machines. Priyanka slowed, peering in through one of the observation windows.
“What the hell is this place?” she whispered.
I had a horrible suspicion about what this place was originally used for years ago, back when IAAN first emerged and the world was convinced it was a contagious virus. This must have been where they kept the first few known cases.
Roman turned back toward the doors we’d come through, motioning for us to follow him. But just as I took a step forward, a faint strain of music reached my ears and I almost dropped the phone.
Not just music. The Rolling Stones. “Start Me Up.”
It traveled over the tile floor, across the smooth surfaces of the walls. The other end of the hallway had been so completely blanketed in darkness, we hadn’t even seen the way it intersected with another hall and turned right.
I went first, feeling like I was pulling one thread of myself loose with each step. Roman kept close beside me, his gun up and aiming.
The hallway ended at another pair of double doors, which were swinging slightly open and shut with the force of the air-conditioning blasting from above it. Blue scrubs. A surgical table. Large, wheezing machines.
Not here, I thought as I reached out and pushed one of the doors open. Please not here.
It was like something out of a nightmare.
A surgeon stood at the head of the operating table, waving the drill in his hand in time to the song’s beat like a conductor’s wand. A small figure stood on the other side, next to a tray of gleaming silver instruments. A third person sat behind a monitor, controlling the arm of some sort of scanner that was rotating overhead.
And on the table, her head shaved, her face like wax, was Ruby.
“Stop!” The word exploded out of me with a roar of power. The surgical light flared, shattering at the same moment the monitor did. The woman sitting there was thrown to the floor, knocking her head on the tile.
“I’m calling—”
Roman shot the man before he could finish. The drill in his hand fell to the floor a second before his body did.
The other woman screamed, running for the shelves of supplies along the far left wall. They pulled forward easily. Too easily.
Priyanka ran after her, all but tackling her. As the woman fought her, kicking and twisting, Priyanka leaned behind the shelves to see what was there. “We’ve got a door—where the hell does this go?”
“It’s just—” the woman sputtered, sobbing in terror. “It’s just an emergency exit out to one of the streets—please, we were just doing our jobs!”
I didn’t see how Priyanka silenced her. I didn’t care. I turned off the phone’s camera and ran straight for the operating table.
Ruby’s shoulders were too thin under my hands. Her face was gaunt, still shadowed by a bruise on one cheek. She looked…
Dead.
“Ruby?” I said. “Ruby, can you hear me?”
I searched for the IV drip, whatever drug they might have injected her with, but there was nothing. I grasped at her hand beneath the surgical blanket, my fingers feeling for her pulse. Faint. There.
I just wanted to save you. I just wanted to help.
“Do you—?”
Roman faded at the edge of my vision. The operating room took on a silky texture, brightening until it was completely blotted out with white. It felt like fainting, even though I could feel the ground steady beneath my feet. That same white light faded, and forms began to take shape from the darkness it left behind. A hallway, not unlike the other one on this floor, unfurled in front of me. I was moving down it, past the locked doors, past the small faces peering out at me through the observation windows, the small hands pressed against it.
Memory.
I released my hold on Ruby with a gasp, but the memory didn’t fade. Not until I saw the number on the hallway’s wall, the way she’d seen it. LEVEL 3.
“—okay? Say something!” When the image of the hallway cleared, Roman’s worried face replaced it. All at once I felt the pressure of his fingers on my upper arms.
“What’s going on?” Priyanka asked. “What just happened?”
“There are more kids here,” I said. “They’re on the floor above us. Ruby wants me to get them.”
Priyanka looked between me and Ruby’s terrifyingly still face.
“I don’t have time to explain,” I said, taking her arm. “You have to come with me to get their doors open.”
“All right,” she said, putting a hand over mine. “I’m coming. Ro, are you going to be okay?”
He nodded. “I’ve got everything handled.”
I threw the phone to Roman, who caught it with his free hand. He looked like he wanted to protest, but there must have been something in my face that made him hold back. All I could feel was Ruby’s fear; all I could see was her still, frail form. “Text the others that we found her. And tell Max we’re going to need a bigger transport.”
Priyanka opened the quarantine doors from the inside, leading the charge down the hall to the stairs. My head still had that cottony feeling, like something had been placed inside of it that didn’t belong. Ruby hadn’t woken up, but she was in there. Somehow, she knew it was me. She’d heard me or se
nsed me….
We stopped outside the door leading into the third floor. Priyanka kept her back to it, trying to look through the small glass panel without being seen. Her whole posture stiffened. Without explaining, she stepped back so I could see for myself.
A security officer was sprawled across the hallway tile, a pool of blood beneath him.
I pulled back, looking to her with wide eyes. Maybe the others had already come through, or they’d crossed paths with him and he’d made it down this far. But there was no blood anywhere on the stairs. There was no blood beyond what was right there, soaking through his dark uniform. He’d fallen where he’d been hit.
Priyanka gave me a searching look, waiting for my cue. I peered through the window again. There was no one, and there was no time.
I opened the door slowly, one hand taking the gun from Priyanka as she offered it and the other turning the phone camera back on to record.
I covered her as she ran to the nearest door, then, when no one fired, followed her over. A child, one who looked to be about six, pressed his face against the glass, watching us both with wide eyes. My hand shook a little as I captured it on film, then turned to do the same with the others. The sight of the eight doors, and the kids behind them, sent a tremor through me.
The rooms had to be soundproof. Across the way, a girl—her hair shaved like the boy’s—was yelling, her fists banging silently against the glass. Farther down, another boy was trying to get my attention, waving his hands toward the opposite side of the building, where another hallway intersected with ours.
Where Lana was watching us.
I raised the gun, but the rush of boiling needles was back, slamming through my skull with a new viciousness. I staggered, trying to stay vertical. None of the doors were open—Priyanka hadn’t had enough time.
Lana’s wavy hair had been pulled back into a neat ponytail. She was dressed in the same uniform as the security officer she’d shot and studied me now in a way she hadn’t before, her expression unnervingly close to Roman’s. The gun remained at her side, as if the one I was aiming at her was no threat. I shoved the phone into my pocket, freeing up both hands.
We don’t have time for this. We had to get the kids out.
“There’s a whole team here with me,” Lana said. “You’re not going to make it out. You might as well come with me now.”
“Don’t do this,” Priyanka said softly, stepping in front of me. “Please, Lana. Please don’t break my heart again.”
“That’s always been your problem, Pri,” Lana said, her voice husky. One hand reached up, touching the charm on her necklace. “You use your heart and never your head.”
“True.” Priyanka’s voice wavered. “I’m a romantic, as you might recall.”
“I recall a lot of things,” she said, her voice hardening.
“We didn’t abandon Mercer, Lana,” Priyanka said, taking another step toward her. “We escaped him. That man is a monster, and he’s hurting kids, just like the people here are hurting the ones who are right in front of you. Please…please let Suzume get them to safety. You can take me back with you to Mercer.”
Lana’s face twisted in disgust. “As if you have a choice now. I didn’t come here for you, but I won’t turn down the opportunity to stop you.”
Finally, she raised her gun. I kept my own on her, my heart banging in my ears. The jittery feeling of having my power repressed made it impossible to steady my hands.
I was right. This wasn’t the talk of someone who’d been brainwashed—this was nothing like I’d seen in the Reds. This was someone deeply misguided and manipulated, who’d walked into the arms of someone who’d likely seemed powerful and strong enough to protect her.
“You think Mercer loves you? That he cares about you beyond what you can do for him?” Priyanka let out a hollow laugh. “That’s not love—love isn’t torturing innocent kids, it’s not manipulating their bodies so that he can use them. I love you. Roman loves you.”
“And I hate you,” Lana said, the words seething. “I hate you.”
Priyanka flinched. “That’s what Mercer told you to believe.”
Lana kept her gun trained on me. Her laugh made the hair rise on my arms. “I believe what I want to believe, and that’s this: Mercer made me strong. He gave me the power to be the person I wanted to be. He didn’t leave me behind, he built an army for me. For us.”
“Leave you behind,” Priyanka repeated, her voice ragged. “Do you have any idea how much that killed us?”
“Not enough to come back,” Lana said. “Not enough.”
Behind us, the door to the stairwell banged open. I turned in time to see Vida throw out her arms, sending Lana slamming into the far wall with her power. Priyanka gasped, and I had to catch her arm to keep her from lunging toward Lana’s prone form.
The pressure of the girl’s power lifted from my mind and electricity sang through me once again, filtering toward me from all sides—above, below, through the walls of the rooms.
“Where are the kids?” Vida barked. “We need to go!”
“I told you, you’re not getting out of here.”
Lana hauled herself back up to her feet. I started to dive for the gun that had been knocked out of her hands, but she made no move to reach for it.
She only lifted the plastic cover over the fire alarm and pulled it.
THE ALARM SHREDDED THAT LAST bit of control I’d had over my nerves. It blared out, piercing and relentless. Red lights flashed on, sweeping over the bare walls and tile.
Vida pushed Priyanka’s frozen form aside, firing after Lana as the girl fled down the hall.
“She’s going for Ruby!” I shouted over the alarm. “There’s a Blue Star team in the building!”
“The boys are already there,” Vida said. “We just need the kids—Priyanka—Priyanka!”
She reached out, gripping the girl’s shoulder and giving it a hard shake. Whatever prison of horror Priyanka had been locked inside, she finally emerged.
“Can you turn the alarm off?” I shouted.
“It’s too late!” Vida said. “They’ll be here any second. Better to have the sound to cover the gunfire. Watch the other entrance—the elevators on the other side.”
“Right,” Priyanka said, moving toward the first room as if in a trance. “I need…It’s going to be…”
“It’s fine,” I told her, “just hurry.”
Before she took her position, Vida shouted to us, “If we get separated for any reason, we’re going out through the quarantine.”
Max must have had us covered, then. That small bit of relief was instantly stomped out by throbbing fear as I ran down the hall in the direction that Lana had gone. There was an elevator down that second corridor to my left. I planted myself at the corner, crouching down to use the edge of the wall as cover.
A shot rang out behind me as Vida took down the first security officer with ease.
“You’ve got seconds!” she shouted to Priyanka.
She didn’t need them. The doors swung open together with a hard clack as the locks released. The kids stepped out, their skin stained scarlet by the lights from the alarms. They’d only been given gray scrubs and slippers to wear, but that wasn’t the reason they were shivering.
“Follow me, all right?” Vida said. “We’re going to get you to a safe place.”
The kids stared at her with thousand-yard stares, as if shock had finally set in. They had no idea what was happening.
“We’re like you,” I shouted over to them. “And we are about to kick the asses of every single person in this building who hurt you. Got it?”
A little girl, ten at most, lifted her hand. It took Vida a moment to realize she was supposed to take it. Once she guided her forward, the others fell in line behind them, taking each other’s hands and forming a chain. Priyanka brought up the rear, gently urging them toward the door as Vida pushed it open with her shoulder. She leaned into the stairwell, aiming up, then down at anyone who might
be coming.
I waited a beat longer, just to make sure no one was coming up the elevator, then ran after them. The gun was slick in my hands, but I didn’t want to risk letting go of my grip to wipe them off against my jeans. I kept my gaze, and the barrel of the gun, on the stairs above us, mirroring Vida as she cleared the path below. A few of the kids screamed as the bodies, wounded and dead alike, rolled down the steps.
Bullets pinged off the railings, and the shouted orders from the uniformed security officers became roars of pain. Vida slammed her shoulder against the door to level three. I counted the kids’ small heads as they trailed after her, the chain ending with Priyanka. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.
But there had been eight doors. There were eight kids.
Breath slammed in and out of me as I turned and ran back up the stairs, bursting through the door again. My shoes slid through the pool of blood, tracking it across the floor. I shoved back against the panic that was rising in me like a wave, focusing on scanning each room for places where a child might be hiding. I concentrated on the memory Ruby had given me, trying to sort through the glossy-bright images to match their faces to the ones I’d seen. The last room on the left was identical to the others, with one major difference: the sleeping cot was bigger. My stomach bottomed out as I realized exactly how stupid panic had made me.
Ruby. Ruby was the eighth one on this floor. There wasn’t another kid.
The elevator chimed, the doors dragging themselves open. Bootsteps thundered out, and it was all the incentive I needed to run back for the stairwell, legs and arms pumping harder than ever. I took the stairs too fast, barely catching myself from tumbling down onto the second level’s landing.
Steady, I thought. Calm down.
I tried to look through the door’s glass panel, but a bullet had left a web of cracks in it. After reaching out with my power to see if there were any electrical signatures nearby, and finding none, I pushed it open slowly, stepping out gun-first.
The alarm wailed through the corridor. Its red lights swept over the bodies scattered across the floor. I swallowed bile as I wove through them, running for the doors marked QUARANTINE.