I'm not sure how Mr. Ankh had managed it, but he'd already cleared the lot. We strode inside, our booted footsteps echoing off the walls. I'd been here a few times before, but it had always been overcrowded. Now we were the only occupants.
Frosty and River took positions at the front door, and the rest of us marched to the center of the dance floor. Chance and Mackenzie kept going, a team, taking posts at the back doors, making me wonder if something had happened between them. All the others formed a circle around me, each one facing a different direction. Mr. Ankh had cameras outside and in. Cole, Frosty and River each wore an earpiece, allowing the males to stay in constant contact.
Twenty minutes passed without incident. Thirty. Forty. This could go down so many ways, my head spun. Anima could bring Justin or leave him behind. Could come in the front door or try to ambush us through the back. Or both! They could be no-shows. They could send one man or a hundred.
If worse came to worst and they came in hot, without Justin, we would fight, as Cole had said. We could cripple their forces and even take hostages. Do a little interrogating of our own. I'd give River free rein. I was past the point of caring.
Suddenly, Cole stiffened. "Two girls heading toward the front entrance."
Girls? Without Justin?
I waited, fighting for breath, every second agony. Then Frosty stomped around the corner dragging Wren and Poppy behind him.
You've got to be kidding me. I pushed my way through the circle. "What are you doing here?"
"Some guy called me," Wren said, anchoring her hands on her hips. She was a smart, beautiful black girl, with a stubborn streak a mile wider than my own. "He said I had better get here quick or I'd miss Justin."
"And you believed him?"
Poppy, a model-pretty redhead, looked around. "What's going on?"
We had to get these girls out of here. But we couldn't send them off on their own. Anima could be waiting to grab them. We couldn't spare a solider to escort them. We needed all the manpower we could get. But then, Anima had known that and had hoped to thin the herd.
"Take them to the back office," I said. "Lock them in."
Both girls stared at me with wide eyes.
"It's for your own protection."
"Seriously. What's going on?" Poppy demanded.
"You walked into the middle of a war." I waved Jaclyn over. "Whatever you hear, you aren't to leave that office. And if someone you don't recognize busts in, shoot." I placed a .38 revolver in Wren's hand. It had a manageable recoil for a novice. "Have you ever fired one of these?"
"N-no," she stuttered, "and I never want to."
Too bad. "It doesn't have a safety, so if you squeeze the trigger, you're firing. But it does have a double-action trigger, which means it won't fire unless you squeeze all the way. Do not point the barrel at yourself or Poppy, understand?"
Jaclyn grabbed both girls by the arms. "Come on."
"Guns? A war?" Poppy cried, digging in her heels, wheezing. I think she was having a panic attack. "What kind of war?"
"We don't have time for this." Camilla rushed over and flung her arm around Poppy, forcing her into the hallway.
Boom!
The entire building shook. A blast of white-hot air knocked me across the room, and something hard smashed into me.
Every inch of me throbbing, I fought to sit up. My ears rang. Smoke billowed, nearly choking me. I coughed, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Little fires, everywhere. An entire wall of the club, gone. My friends, scattered across the debris-laden dance floor.
Gavin was crawling to Jaclyn, who appeared to be unharmed as she helped Wren and Poppy to their feet. Also unharmed. Thank God!
River and Frosty were lifting a piece of plaster from Veronica's chest.
Camilla was trying to tug River...toward the front door? He kept shrugging her off, determined to help Chance, who had an unconscious Mackenzie in his arms.
Bronx lay on the ground, struggling to rise.
Cole...where was Cole?
I spun, searching, desperate. "Cole!"
A wall of smoke cleared, and I expected to see him run through it.
Instead, I saw zombies.
More than I could count. No collars.
"Zombies!" I shouted and split in two. I withdrew my axes and hacked through a zombie's spine, then another and another, staying in a constant state of motion. The creatures came at me from every angle. I fought, fought so hard, landing more blows than I took. But the fact was, I did take them. A lot of them. Considering I was already battered, every strike hurt more than it should have.
Whoosh. An arrow soared past me and sank in the eye of a zombie that had been preparing to bite me.
Cole was there a second later, covered in soot. He punched into the end of the arrow, sending the tip deep into the zombie's brain. Then he withdrew a short sword and sliced off its head.
"You're okay," I exclaimed.
"Yeah. Just got thrown outside."
Two zombies rushed up behind him. I tossed my axes, nailing the offenders between the eyes. They soared backward, and when they landed, Cole was there, removing their heads, too. Yet, even without bodies, the mouths snapped at us.
Fingers tangled in my hair, jerking me down. I fell, rolling backward with the motion, kicking the zombie responsible. He stumbled, and I straightened, swinging my arm, cutting his throat. Black goo oozed.
I went to get my axes, but a hand reached out, tripping me. I crashed face-first, stars winking through my vision. Before I'd recovered, a hard weight dived on top of me, shoving the air from my lungs. But as quickly as the weight landed, it lifted. Cole jerked me to my feet.
He kicked the zombie reaching for me, then stomped on the creature's hand, shattering the bones. Feeling no pain, the zombie leaned over and gnawed on his boot. He stabbed in the center of its skull, then, with the skull still attached to the blade, tossed it across the room.
I drew in a deep breath--mistake. Hacking cough. Watering eyes. Still too smoky in here.
In an effort to regain my composure, I rolled my shoulders, shook out my hands. If we were going to win this, I needed to push. I had the faith to do it, could even feel the energy gathering inside me, preparing. I could do this. I would do this. The zombies would lift, and they would ash, and that would be that.
Now! I raised my arms...and every zombie catapulted into the air.
A sense of triumph surged through me, strengthening me further.
Bronx and Mackenzie were on the ground, each writhing in pain. Frosty ran halfway, then slid on his knees the other half, reaching Bronx's side. Hands flaming, Frosty punched into Bronx's chest. The boy jolted, his back bowing.
Chance crouched beside Mackenzie and, after a slight hesitation, copied Frosty.
Movement at the corner of my eye. I switched my attention, saw two men wearing hazmat suits carting my body out the giant hole in the wall. Good glory. This had been Anima's plan all along. Distract us with zombies and steal my body. Wherever one went, the other would always be forced to follow.
"Cole," I shouted, running forward. All of the zombies fell, thumping against the floor. Grunts and groans sounded, and not just from the creatures.
One second I was far away from my body and the next I was right next to it. One touch, and the two linked up.
I grabbed the unsuspecting men by the neck and slammed their heads together. They released me and stumbled back; I fell.
One of the men recovered quickly and moved to punch me. I braced to take it, even as I withdrew a minicrossbow from my boot and worked it between us. Before either of us could strike, Poppy appeared out of nowhere and whacked him in the face with a piece of wood. Blood sprayed his mask. Despite the dizziness he must have been battling, he remained on his feet and snarled at her.
I squeezed the trigger, shooting him in the neck, cutting through his suit. His eyes widened as he slumped forward, over me, pinning me down. Cole was there a second later, helping me stand. He must have li
nked up, too, because we were solid to each other.
"Thank you," I said.
There wasn't time to say more. Two other Hazmats rushed out of the darkness. I pushed Poppy at Cole.
"Get her inside." If I did it, the Hazmats would only give chase, and she could be hurt. I was the target. I would be the one to fight.
Cole obeyed, gone in a blink.
Both men swung at me. I blocked their punches with my forearms. Impact hurt, and I lost my grip on the crossbow. As soon as I had the opportunity, I kicked the first guy in the kneecap--he howled with pain and dropped--then spun and punched the other guy in the throat.
Victory...not quite yet. Someone grabbed my hair from behind and jerked. I lost my balance and fell. Dang it! Before the culprit could do any more damage, Camilla was there--
No, Camilla was the culprit.
Surprise! She smacked me in the jaw, then the gut, calling, "Come get her before it's too late."
Another Hazmat sprang toward me.
What the--
Before I could fight through my shock, he stuck me in the neck with a syringe. The sting... I cringed, a chilling tide sweeping through my veins. I moaned and shivered, unable to fight, my muscles freezing into blocks of ice as I was dragged away.
Camilla watched with a smile of satisfaction. "Buh-bye now."
Betrayed...mole... My thoughts broke apart.... Everything faded to black....
"It's okay. It's all right. I won't let them take you."
The soft voice whispered through my head. Helen's voice.
"I can do more than give, Ali. Remember when I told you I can steal?"
The ice melted, my thoughts realigned, and colors returned to my line of sight. Even as I was being carried away, my mother walked through me once, twice...a third time...passing through me, as Emma had once done, but each time, Helen's features became a little more pinched, her lips a little more blue...as if she drew the cold out of me and into her.
I tried to move my fingers-- Yes! Success! My toes. Again, success.
Helen dropped to the floor, spent. Our eyes met, and I think she began to smile encouragingly. I might never know; she vanished.
Disappointment? Yes, I felt it. Rage? Yes, that, too. And I had a target in mind. Camilla. She would pay for this.
My drug-and-dragger propped me against his thigh as he opened the door of a van.
Twisting, I sucker punched him in the groin. As he hunched over, too agonized to do more than grunt, I straightened and elbowed him in the back of the head. He crashed face-first into the ground. As I attempted to race inside the club, he wrapped his fingers around my ankle, tripping me. I crashed. He was on me in a snap, squeezing my neck so tightly I knew I'd carry the bruises for days.
Rather than try to pry his fingers loose, I reached back...patted my hands over his waist...felt the hilt of a dagger. All I needed. I unsheathed it and stabbed his thigh.
He released me, writhing against the ground.
Suddenly I could breathe. I got up. He didn't follow.
Heart pounding, I rushed back into the decimated club.
Camilla was helping her brother subdue a trio of zombies, as if she hadn't just tried to sign my death certificate.
My rage magnified. I pushed out another stream of energy and lifted my arms, zombies catapulting into the air. Camilla paled, scanning the club until her gaze found me.
I stomped toward her. Above me, zombies exploded as I passed. Ash rained like snow. And then all the bodies were gone, the battle over.
But not the war.
"You." I kicked the gun out of her hand--screw being wise--then kicked her in the chest. She tripped backward.
"What are you doing?" River snarled, stepping in front of his sister. He raised his fist, as if he meant to hit me. "Stop."
Cole moved in front of me. "I wouldn't, if I were you."
"She's a traitor," I spat. "She gave me to Anima."
She shook her head. "No. No, you're mistaken. You were drugged, didn't know what was happening around you."
"How do you know I was drugged, huh? Unless you were out there with me?"
She blanched. "I saw one of the men in the hazmat suits inject you."
"The man you told to come and get me." I shouted, "You are the reason the zombies made it onto Mr. Ankh's property without detection. You are the reason we found nothing but useless junk at the lab. You are the reason the assassin got free." Dark realization pushed me to add, "You are the reason my weapons have been jamming."
Her head-shakes became more violent.
Shock registered on River's features, then fury. "You don't know what you're talking about, Bell. My sister isn't a traitor. You're mistaken, just like she said."
"I'm not!" I screamed. A wave of fatigue hit me, but I battled through it. Pushing the energy a second time had been a mistake, but I couldn't regret it.
"You don't even look drugged," River pointed out.
"Doesn't matter," Cole said. "It happened exactly as Ali said it did."
"You didn't see," River insisted.
"I didn't have to. What she says, I believe. End of."
It was less than a minute later that the club was divided into two camps. Theirs--and ours. River, Camilla and Chance chose one side. My friends and I chose the other. The show of support nearly undid me, because I hadn't always had it.
"We're done here," Cole said. "From this moment on, our association is over. We don't want information from you, and we're not offering any."
River's hands fisted at his sides. "You're being unreasonable. Your girl makes an accusation and suddenly there's no other side to the story? Did you ever stop and think that maybe little Miss Bell is just trying to get my sister out of the way? Your way?"
I pointed at Camilla, my finger trembling. "You're making a fool of your brother and we both know it. At least love him enough to be honest with him."
Pain and regret played over her features. Indecision.
But that's all it took. River looked at her and then had to do a double take.
He shook his head and said, "No. It's not true. Tell me it's not true."
Her resistance crumbled. "I did it for you. You remember how, a year ago, they were closing in, and you were a major target. They wanted to take you out and almost succeeded. So I went to them. Told them I'd give them information in exchange for your life. They agreed. And they kept their promise, Riv." Her expression was so hopeful, begging him to say she'd made the right decision. "You haven't been injured in all this time."
"No. No!" River stumbled back, as if he'd just received a major blow. "That's impossible. You know our rules. You know what we do to traitors."
What did they do?
Camilla fisted his shirt. "I did it for you," she repeated. "For us. You're all I've got."
"We have friends," he spat. "Kids we're supposed to protect, who are dependent on us. Helping Anima puts them in danger."
"But keeps you safe," she screeched. "Why can't you understand that?"
River scrubbed a hand down his face. His dark eyes were glassy, his breathing labored. "Did you know what was going to happen tonight?"
She gulped, licked her lips. "N-not all of it."
He laughed without humor. "And rather than warning us, helping us organize a counterattack, you led us straight to a slaughter."
"They just wanted her. Once they had her, the attacks were going to stop."
He gave another shake of his head. "Ali's right. You've made a fool of me. But they've made a fool of you. Now you'll pay for it." He palmed a SIG and aimed the barrel at her chest.
Horrified gasps rang out.
Camilla's jaw dropped. "Riv, you can't be serious. You can't mean to kill me. I'm your sister."
She stepped back, but Chance blocked her way, refusing to budge. In fact, he grabbed her by the arms and held her in place. Making her the perfect bull's-eye.
They were going to kill her. Effective, but unnecessary. Despite my anger, I didn't want her death o
n my conscience.
And, despite everything, neither did River. He couldn't see that now, but one day, he would. "Wait," I said. "I can take away her memories."
I became the center of attention.
I ignored everyone but River and said, "I can. Like I did with the doctor. She won't remember who she is, or who you are, but she won't remember Anima, either."
Hope blazed, then anger, and I figured River was considering the pros and cons of both actions. Death versus erasure.
Ultimately, he nodded. "Do it."
"What?" Camilla spluttered. She struggled as I closed in, and she might have escaped, if Chance hadn't placed her in a choke hold. Not squeezing hard enough to knock her out, but just enough to make her still. "Riv, you can't let her do this to me. Please."
He turned his back, but not before I saw the tear trickle down his cheek.
My knees knocked together. I fit my hands at her temples, my chest throbbing. Today's life lesson? One bad decision could mean a lifetime of consequences. "It didn't have to be this way," I said and closed my eyes.
Chapter 27
FOREVER IS A
SINGLE SECOND
The rest of the night passed in a daze, and I came to awareness only for the highlights--and only because Cole shared his fire with me, patching any leaks, strengthening me.
It took a toll on him; he'd absorbed some of my weakness. I owed him. Big-time.
We escorted Wren and Poppy home. They were scratched up and bruised, but otherwise okay, babbling about how we'd each seemed to freeze in place.
They hadn't seen the zombies, or our spirits, and when Cole had tried to explain, they'd both shut down. It was too much to compute.
Tomorrow, after they'd rested, they'd either convince themselves we were crazy or accept the truth. There were no other options.
A despondent River and seemingly unaffected Chance returned to their home with Camilla. The erase had proved successful, and she was now a blank slate. It was sad, really. She'd done everything in her power to save her brother, but because she'd done it the wrong way, she'd lost him anyway.
On the way back to the mansion, Cole received a text from his dad with a possible location for Justin.
Even though we were tired, and ragged, and pretty much beaten to a pulp, we changed directions and drove so fast I'm sure we broke sound barriers. I said a quick prayer for safety.
As I said "Amen," red and blue lights flashed behind our vehicle.