Landlocked (Atlas Link Series Book 2) (34 page)

very part of me felt weighed down, save for my arm, which became a starburst of pain as, millimeter by millimeter, bone broke. One quick jerk and General Allen could break straight through. But he knew how to inflict optimal damage, and I hated myself for falling into this a second time.

General Allen had called me in for a “meeting” of some sort, and I knew. Of course I knew. I went anyway. I didn’t think he’d kill me—hurt me, sure, but not kill—and I wanted answers of my own. I needed to figure out what he really wanted me for. To sell out Trevor? Maybe. But the way he’d pounced on me the second I walked through the door, needle jammed into my shoulder, told me there was something more going on. I just had to stick it out a bit longer and figure out what that something was. Not to mention those Lemurian bodies I’d found, the electricity surrounding the tubes…

I’d collapsed to the floor, strength and power zapped from me as soon as the needle pierced my skin. My powers had been replaced by anxiety and panic and nausea. General Allen had yanked me up and pinned me against a wall. He held my arm at an awkward angle that shattered it bit by bit. Even the martial arts I’d learned from Sophia weren’t enough to get me out of this one, not with my arm so close to breaking.

“Just tell me what’s worth keeping your secret for.” Spittle few onto my face and lips with each word he hissed. “What did SeaSat5
find
down there, really?”

I wasn’t going to budge. He could break every bone in my body and I’d still not tell him about Atlantis or about the Link Piece cache. Or about the fact that the second his damned drug wore off, I would punch his face into oblivion until
he
told me what
he
wanted, Army General or not. I
so
didn’t care. And he knew that. The way he glared at me said the sentiment was returned. If he didn’t need me for information, I might have been dead by now.

Right back at’cha, asshole
.

“Go ahead and break it,” I spat. “I’m not afraid of you.”

It was a lie. The shaking of my body was evidence enough of that. Was it him I feared? Probably not. Every word he said reminded me of Thompson. Of his men. Of the very moment that broke me two years ago. Of every awful thing I’d done or said to Trevor since then, destroying our friendship when it could be the only thing working enough to get SeaSatellite5 back.

But then those bodies, those experiments he’d been conducting all along.
Those
scared me.

General Allen bent my arm another centimeter in the wrong direction. Pain seared across my vision, my body, and coupled with the power-inhibiting drug to bring me close to passing out. Every effort I’d made to become strong, every hour spent building my abilities up to be something worth caring about, he’d crushed them in a matter of seconds. How did he even get a serum that could do that? Did he cook it up in his lab?

He had slammed me back to reality, and I hated him for it. I hated him.

I lifted my knee up swift and hard. It landed straight in his groin. I shoved him backward and tried to run to the door, but only stumbled forward a few inches. I couldn’t even shout for help. If I did then the general would kill them and I knew that. And then their blood would be on his hands and mine.

Was anyone even working in the building this late at night anyway?

Guess not, since no one came barging in to see what all the commotion was about.

Step by wobbly step I made for the door. My stomach churned in protest. By the time I regained any ability to think past the waves of sickness, I was thrown back against the wall. My head smacked hard.

“Why did you sell out SeaSat5?” he asked again.

“I. Didn’t,” I bit out. “Why would I? They took me in. Helped me understand my powers and what was happening to me. They were my
family
.”

“Your family no longer exists,” he said coolly. “I’ve met them, you know. Your parents.” I didn’t take the bait. When I stayed quiet, he added. “Your biological parents are out there, Chelsea.”

His intercom beeped, saving me from having to ignore him further. My biological parents. Who the hell was he kidding? The two people who raised me, they were my parents. My
biological
parents. There were pictures and besides, my sister looked just like me. This guy was cracked. Absolutely cracked.

But he was a crack who knew about the war, and that made him dangerous.

I spit blood from my mouth onto the floor.

A secretary’s voice filled the speaker. “General Allen, Colonel Daniels is here to speak with you. Shall I let him in?”

I didn’t know who that was, or if he were friend or foe.
Foe
, my mind taunted. Why else would another General be here so late at night to talk to General Allen?

Oh God.
How many people were in on this Lemurian hunting operation and his creepy experiments?

“I need one more moment to finish briefing Ms. Danning, Jenna. I’ll come to the lobby and get him in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, General.” The intercom clicked off.

General Allen approached me like a predator, with slow, purposeful steps. “You will tell me what I need to know, or this will end poorly for you and those you care for.” He grinned, wide and evil. “Your sister, her name is Sarah, correct?”

“Don’t you
dare
,” I growled. A protective anger whipped to life inside me, crackling like a bonfire. “There is
nothing
you need to know. There was no second mole you filthy b-bastard!” Damn my voice for breaking. Damn my tongue for stuttering. Damn
him
for using the one threat that might make me call off my information-gathering mission and succumb to whatever General Allen wanted.

His fist closed across my face. Blood pooled in my mouth. “Is Mr. Boncore really worth all this trouble? Are either of them?”

I spat blood at him. His eyes widened in surprise then he clocked me across the face again. I glared up at him. “I know about your damn experiments,” I spat. “The tubes, the remains. What are you really doing with the Lemurians you bring in, huh?”

His eyes betrayed him, widening in surprise.

Point for me, asshole.

Deep red and purple cloaked his face and spittle flew out of his mouth as he snapped, “Get out of here!” He took a step away, before pausing. “And if you utter a single word about what you saw then it won’t be just you that will regret it. Your sister will too.”

He stepped back and moved toward his personal bathroom, a small door off to the side of his office, to wash my blood off his face.

I gathered myself enough to make it down the hall to the common room again, for the second time this week. I shut and locked the door after making sure no one stood inside. Then I walked to the sink in the bathroom to wash blood from my mouth.

I didn’t ask for this
. I didn’t ask for any of it. I
chose
this. But I hadn’t chosen—

I couldn’t even say it. I had chosen SeaSat5. I’d just never expected the worst to happen. And for some reason I thought nothing bad would happen here at TruGates because it was simple. Because it was black and white.

But TruGates was ruled by a General who sent his people after Lemurians, but didn’t tell them about the war. A General who was experimenting,
preserving
, their bodies after capture.

How
stupid
was I?

I’d been aboard the Navy’s top vessel when it was hijacked for over twenty-four hours. Then two weeks later, I was one of the only two people
not
on board when it had disappeared. How did I ever expect those two facts not to bite me in the ass one day? I leaned forward and gripped onto either side of the sink for support. I glared at myself in the mirror, growing more and more angry by the second until my grip tightened so much that pain struck like lightning up my left arm.

“Shit!” I shrieked and turned to kick the tile wall. My toes stung. I turned and kicked the stall to the right of me, and spun to slide down the wall to the bathroom floor. “Fucking
hell
!”

Everything hurt. Everything fell onto
my
shoulders. What was happening at TruGates. What had happened to SeaSat5. Trevor hating me. Me hating him. All of it was my fault because I thought I could dance with this devil, and I couldn’t. And now…

The sudden movement of kicking and sliding sent a new wave of dizziness and nausea through me, though I managed to keep more vomit down. I wasn’t sure I had anything left to upchuck.

As much as I hated to admit it—and I
hated
to—I needed help. I couldn’t go back to Josh like this tonight. Even if I managed to hide the pain of this almost-fracture, he’d see straight past all the fake smiles and demand to know what was wrong. He couldn’t find out. General Allen would kill him, given I couldn’t even protect
myself
against him. I didn’t want to test if that was a bluff with Josh’s life. I couldn’t go back to TAO because there’d be too many questions. I couldn’t face Trevor. I couldn’t hear him say I told you so on top of all this.

I needed help, but I had no options left.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

The words were out seconds before my tears, but both flowed from me in torrents. Everything I’d done wrong in the last three years rushed to the surface. Letting Lexi take Ray. Letting Ray walk away. Walking away from school for weeks. Appearing on SeaSat5.
Losing
SeaSat5. Choosing Atlantis over Michael, and TruGates over TAO. Screwing Trevor over.
Humiliating
him in front of thousands of people.

I hiccupped as my mind focused on Trevor, on how he was the only connection to SeaSat5 I had left. On how that damn song was in the process of skyrocketing Phoenix and Lobster to our long sought after success. On how he’d probably hate me forever. And for what? For this stupid life I’ve built myself?

Over and over again the words, “I can’t do this,” left my mouth.

It went on for what felt like hours until someone tried turning the doorknob only to find to the single-person bathroom locked.

“Oh, sorry,” came Mara’s voice through the door. “I didn’t think anyone was in there.”

“I’ll be right out,” I called to her, trying my best to school my voice into a calm tone. What was she doing here so late anyway?

“Chelsea? Is that you in there?”

I hiccupped again and gathered enough strength to say, “Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Everything okay in there?”

I pulled myself up off the floor and looked into the mirror. I looked like hell after a category five hurricane. I walked as quietly as I could to the toilet and flushed to build an illusion then returned to the sink to turn on the faucet. I washed my face with cold water, hoping to soothe some of the redness, but I still looked as bright as a fresh tomato. I’d have to lie. Really well, since there was no way I’d get out of this bathroom without coming face to face with Mara.

After a few moments of deep breaths, I braced myself for opening the door. Then I did.

Mara’s eyes grew dark. “Chelsea?”

“I’m fine.” But it came out as a squeak and before I could leave the common room, Mara pounced on me like a cat.

“Like hell you are. Have you been crying?” One of her hands gripped my shoulder, my good one, like she was a mom examining her children for playground injuries. “You’ve got pain written all over your face, smudged eyeliner, and a nice shiner. Tell me what happened. Now.”