Redemption (Enigma Black Trilogy Book #3) (38 page)

I brought my fist back and struck Victor in the neck. His Achilles’ heel, and the only way I could hurt him. He stumbled back in obvious pain, enabling me to strike him in the stomach with my fist and land a flying kick to his head with the side of my boot. Victor fell to the ground where his helmet popped off and rolled to the side. Without hesitation, I threw my body over the helmet, grabbed it and threw it over the side of the building.

Furious, Victor sprang back to his feet and charged at me. I threw my body backwards into a handspring and landed on my feet just in time to block an attack by him and land a direct hit to the side of his head. Somehow, without the protection of his helmet, he seemed much less menacing. I jumped and delivered another flying kick to his head, but he was ready for me this time, grabbing my leg in his arms and twisting both it and my body around. The impact of my body landing on the ground stunned me.
Get up, Celaine. Get up now
.

As Victor approached, I jumped to my feet and ran toward him, hoping to build up enough momentum to knock him to the rooftop so I could try to gain an advantage over him. But, as I ran, I noticed a strange look overcome his face. A look that screamed sinister. Victor’s fist appeared out from behind his back and, moments before I came within striking distance, he punched me in the stomach.

My body fell backwards, and I landed on my back, my stomach throbbing as though it were on fire. It was then that I felt the wetness. The same wetness I’d felt after I was shot. Blood. I was bleeding. As though to confirm my suspicions, I looked up at Victor’s hand to see a knife in his grasp. He’d stabbed me in the stomach, and I was losing blood fast.

I rolled over, gripping my throbbing body in my hands, trying to stop my blood from pooling on the rooftop underneath me. Above me, I heard Victor chuckle. He’d finally done it. He’d killed everyone in George Stevens’ family.

I opened my eyes but noticed that the world around me was already beginning to fade out and Victor’s voice sounded as though he were standing at the opposite end of a tunnel.

“I didn’t think you would be taken out this easily,” he said, his voice not so threatening without his mask. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised. Your father didn’t put up much of a fight. He wasn’t even strong enough to save his own family.”

Rage, pure and unadulterated, raced through my veins. It brought my mind back from the brink, but the rest of my body refused to move; the blood loss stripped me of my energy.
Get up
.
He only wins when your heart stops beating. Get up now
.

“It’s a shame, losing two of my fighters tonight,” Victor continued. “But there will always be others to take your place. Others who will blindly accept an offer if the cause tugs at their heart strings enough.”

“Everyone at The Epicenter knows, Victor. Don’t you see? No matter what happens, it’s over for you tonight.”

“Oh, Ms. Stevens, you underestimate me. Do you believe that everyone on my payroll was in the dark? Do you honestly think I didn’t have a back-up plan in place or an alternate location in which to conduct my research in the event The Epicenter went under? I will rise again.”

Get up, Celaine
.

Victor’s boots passed by my face as he circled my wounded body like a vulture waiting for its prey to take its final breath. “Now the question becomes, who should I get to replace you and Mr. Grant as I continue to perfect my research? Your friend Lucy was a spirited one, but I could have broken her. She wasn’t nearly as stubborn as you. It’s too bad I had to get rid of her.”

“You,” I yelled as loudly as I could through the groan that rumbled in my throat at the same time. “You killed Lucy?” Every fiber of my being screamed for me to get up, but all I could do was prop myself up on my elbows a couple of inches off the ground.

“Yes, well, those flyers she was passing around with your picture on them weren’t exactly in my best interests.” Tears welled in my eyes at the thought of Lucy’s final moments. Lucy, my best friend, had died because of me. Because she cared enough to try to find me, having seen through my fabrication. “You know, your ex-boyfriend’s sister seems promising. What is her name? MaKayla? Yes, MaKayla. She’s young now, but in a couple of years she’ll be a perfect candidate for one of my fighters. And she’ll already harbor so much hatred for The Man in Black for putting her family in jeopardy tonight that I’m sure she’ll readily agree to my proposal. Who knows, maybe I can arrange for the death of one of her parents beforehand to ensure her compliance.”

“No,” I screamed. Dizzy, I jumped to my feet. His threats had ignited a fire within me I didn’t know I had left, and I ran at him with renewed vigor. Caught completely off guard, Victor wasn’t expecting my body to collide with his. And the force of our bodies’ impact threw him backwards. Victor stumbled, and I took the opportunity to strike him again, the adrenaline coursing through my veins in one last ditch effort to overpower him.

The further back he stumbled, the more the fog cleared enough to enable me to see that we were close to the ledge of the building and a four-story drop below. A drop that neither one of us would survive. This was my chance. The last one I would ever have.

As Victor tried to regain his footing, I struck him in the jaw with my heel, throwing him back, but not before he grabbed my leg. He stumbled, his legs catching the ledge, which caused his already precarious balance to falter even more. This was it; now or never. With my foot still firmly in Victor’s grasp, I leapt into him using my other foot and, with the weight of my body, shoved him over the ledge.

His hold on me never wavered, and as he fell, he pulled my body along with him. My arms darted out to catch the ledge but, still, Victor remained attached to me in a death grip, severely compromising my hold. The weight of Victor’s body strained every muscle in my upper body. They burned and tore as they were pulled to their max, and I could feel my grip on the ledge loosening.

“If I go, you go,” Victor said. He struck my back with his fist, sending pain shooting up my spine and into my arms.

He was right. I needed to let go. It was the only way because I couldn’t keep my grip any longer. My will to live struggled with my dwindling strength and thoughts of giving up as I pulled myself up to try and shake Victor one last time. I pulled my body upwards and my arm slipped, causing me to slam my jaw against the ledge, but not before I caught a glimpse of something on the rooftop. My gun.

Victor struck me, catching me in the thigh this time. Resolute, I ignored the sting and, with the remainder of my strength, I pulled my body up just enough to stretch my arm out toward the gun. Never have I willed my arm to stretch so far, or my fingers to grow an extra inch. As the lower half of my body was being pulled downwards, my upper half stretched as far as I could, practically tearing my skin and pulling muscles in the process. Just a few centimeters. Just a little bit more.

Victor squeezed my ankle, the same one he’d injured earlier, and twisted it as he turned his body midair. While the pain was severe, I didn’t let it break my concentration as the tips of my fingertips brushed the gun and pulled it closer toward me. Triumphantly, my shaky hand wrapped itself around the handle.

“Hey, Victor,” I called down to him, the gun aimed squarely at his head. He looked up at me, the hatred on his face swiftly turning to shock. “I bet you never came up with a back-up plan for this scenario.” Without another word, my finger pulled the trigger and, with one sharp blast, a bullet pierced Victor’s skull. His limp arms released their hold on my body, and in slow motion Victor’s body fell from the sky toward the ground. He struck the pavement, and his lifeless eyes remained fixated upward in my direction.

Though my body wanted nothing more than to quit, I somehow managed to pull myself up and over the ledge, where I collapsed on the rooftop.

It was over. The Man in Black was dead.

“Come on, come on,” Drew said. He fidgeted with his hands over the keyboard, waiting for the program to respond to his commands that were slowly uploading.

“Drew, we have ten minutes to get out of here,” Kara said. “Which means we need to get out of here now.”

Exasperated, Dew unplugged the laptop, stood up, and met Kara with it at the doorway. “We’ll know in a few minutes whether this worked,” he said.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to pray that it does.”

“Have the others already made it out?”

“Yes, Becca and Colby are waiting outside. Marcus and Kyle are planting more bombs in the lab. Now, pick it up. I don’t want to be here in the event one of them goes off before we intended it to.”

“Yes, boss,” Drew said, picking up his pace to run alongside her.

“And don’t you forget it.”

They ran down the hallways of The Epicenter, each occasionally stealing glances back at their home and the source of all the lies they had been fed. Kara’s heart sank when she passed Celaine’s room.
Please be okay
, she thought.

“It looks like they have a car waiting for us,” Drew said.

Kara peered into the garage at the end of the hallway to see a black sedan waiting for them. The rolled-down window revealed Marcus behind the wheel. “Hurry it up,” he called out to them. “The ones in the lab are set to go off in less than two minutes.”

Drew and Kara raced down the rest of the length of the hall. When they reached the car, Becca threw the door open and they jumped inside. Before Kara could shut the door, Marcus hit the gas and the car lurched forward, nearly throwing Kara out of it as she grabbed onto the handle to shut the door. Next to her, Drew opened up the laptop and smiled in relief mixed with disbelief.

“What is it?” Kara asked, her heart pounding. “Did—did it work? Drew, did it work? Are they being deactivated?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I think they are.”

The sedan sped up the tunnel as the first blast went off from within the laboratory in the depths of The Epicenter. By the time they reached the end of the tunnel and were safely coasting down the wooded path, several more explosions resounded from behind them as the rest of the bombs followed suit. Yet, none of them looked back to see The Epicenter’s demise, the chunks of earth being blasted upwards into the sky, or the smoke and flames shooting out of the tunnel.

From now on, there would be no turning back.

“Have I ever told you how sorry I am about everything that went down between us?” Aron said.

“Really?” Jill said, irritated. “You pick now to finally admit you were wrong? Now?” She held her gun out toward the advancing soldiers.

“Now’s as good a time as any. Hell, it’s probably going to be the only time we have.”

“Then, apology accepted, asshole.”

“Okay, I deserved that,” he said, laughing.

“Yes, yes, you did.”

The soldiers steadily advanced toward them, their weapons raised, awaiting their command to fire. Their footsteps fell in perfect unison with each footstep creating a thumping sound that, together, sounded like drumbeats leading to their final execution. With nowhere to run, they were trapped, sitting ducks, ready to be picked off one by one. Jill felt a tear forming in her eyes, which she wiped away, not wanting them to see her cry. She would remain strong until the end.

Jill took in a deep breath and closed her eyes as she listened to the sound of the soldiers’ boots approaching. “What are they doing?” Aron asked, confused.

“What do you mean?” Jill opened her eyes to see that the soldiers had all stopped their advance, lowered their guns, and stood around, seemingly confused. Her eyes brightened with more relief than she’d ever felt before. “They’ve been deactivated,” she said, bewildered. “They’ve actually deactivated them.” Jill lowered her weapon and took a few steps away from the group. “Hey,” she called out to them. “My name is Jill. I know that none of you know where you are right now and are probably more confused than you’ve ever been, but I’m going to need you all to take off your helmets and listen to me.”

Carver Brooks smiled at the crowd displayed before him. On the screen, his image appeared, drawing applause from the live audience. He waited to allow the applause to filter onscreen to those watching across the country, beginning to speak only after it had diminished a minute later.

“We are here today to witness our justice system at its finest. Today, these two individuals before you now, Marshall Leitner and Senator Jeremiah Delaney, will be executed for crimes not only against our country but against humanity as well. Marshall Leitner is the founder of the leading terrorist group of rebels that—”

The screen flickered from President Brooks to a street scene and a camera mounted to a moving object, which soon became apparent was another human being. Before long, a voice came over the speakers:

“We don’t have to fight each other. I know that you can’t hear what I’m saying, that your minds are being manipulated by President Brooks without your knowledge. But if there are any of you who can understand what I’m saying right now, our war is not with you. We don’t want to harm any of you. All we want is a fair shot at Brooks. We want our lives back. We want our country back to where it was before.”

A small rumbling emanated through the crowd, which was quickly silenced when the screen returned to a shot of Brooks, his hands clutching his microphone in a death grip, his glare icy. When he saw he’d returned on screen, he straightened his posture and forced a fake smile across his face. “You see the rebels and their propaganda,” he said, trying to deflect their attention. “They are dangerous with the lies they’re spewing across our country.”

The screen flicked back to the same street scene and the voice of the rebel:

“
The only person responsible for the chaos across our land is President Brooks. He is the one clouding the minds of others by exploiting their fear through the creation of The Man in Black
.”

Instead of flicking back to President Brooks, the screen faded to black, then flicked to the sound of gunfire and the image of the camera falling to the ground along with the person to which it was attached as screams were heard off camera. Protests resounded from the audience once more as the screen once again flicked to Brooks standing on stage. His face had turned red, the rage not so hidden anymore. He nodded at the soldiers’ commander, who positioned men around the crowd, their guns aimed at them. Gasps echoed throughout the stands, and his new detractors took their seats in silence.