Don't Let Go (34 page)

“What the hell just happened?” Zeke asked, sounding as mystified as Teo felt.

“No idea,” Teo said.

“Come on.” Daisy was already marching for the door, tugging him along by the hand. “Let’s go.”

The nurse was staring blankly at the lump on the bed. It was almost as if she’d turned into a statue; she didn’t move or say a word as they bolted from the room.

Mason was nowhere in sight, as if he’d simply vanished.

More gunfire as they hustled along the empty hallway. “How do we get out?” Teo asked.

“The back,” Zeke said. “This way!”

They hurried through a series of rooms, headed away from the ones Teo was familiar with. Zeke pushed open a double door, and they found themselves in the kitchen.

Across the room was a door to the outside. It almost seemed too easy.

Right before they reached it, the door exploded inward. They drew up short. A big kid, probably nineteen years old, raced in. Teo had never seen him before, but he had to be one of Luke’s guys. “Run!” he screamed as he tore past them. “They’re coming!”

Zeke didn’t hesitate, he bolted back into the depths of the house. Cursing, Teo followed, clinging tightly to Daisy’s hand. He could hear her panting in time to his racing heart. It would really suck to be killed by guards who were about to discover that they were unemployed.

Zeke overtook the first kid, yelling, “This way!”

They darted through room after room, retracing their steps until they reached the front door. Zeke flung it open, then stopped short.

Teo’s heart sank: A guy in a uniform blocked their path. He was brandishing a gun.

“State police!” the officer said, holding the gun steady. “Hands in the air!”

Slowly, they all raised their hands. Daisy threw Teo a questioning look, her eyes darting back the way they’d come. He shook his head slightly: no more running. They wouldn’t make it ten feet.

“Do you have any weapons?” the cop asked.

“None,” Teo said.

The cop’s eyes flicked over them, then he frowned. “Are you the kids Pike kidnapped?”

Daisy gasped. Zeke threw Teo a puzzled look, then said, “You know about that?”

“Anyone else with you?” the cop continued, peering past them. “How many guards?”

“We’re not sure, exactly,” Teo said. “A lot.”

Another cop appeared behind them, huffing slightly as he asked, “Is this them?”

“Ayup,” the cop said. “Safe and sound.”

“Sorry,” Zeke said. “But what the hell is going on?”

The cops exchanged a look, then the first one said, “You’re being rescued, son. What does it look like?”

“Hey,” Peter protested, backing away. “You don’t want to do that.”

“Why not?” Pike said in a hard voice. “Thanks to you, they’ll already hold me responsible for killing dozens of teens. What’s two more?”

“But, your daughter,” Noa said weakly. “Kill me, and she dies.”

Pike’s face darkened, and he swung the barrel of the gun toward her. “She’s already dead.”

Peter felt the nascent hope inside him wither. If Pike’s daughter was gone, they’d just lost their ace in the hole. Now Pike had nothing left to lose.

“You don’t want to do this,” Noa said weakly. “There’s no point anymore.”

“How do you know what I want?” The words exploded out of Pike. He stepped forward menacingly, his gun arm stiff and straight. “How could you possibly have any idea?”

Peter backed up toward the headboard, trying to keep himself between the gun and Noa. He held his hands in front of his chest, as if they would somehow stop a bullet. It was hard to breathe, staring down the barrel of a gun; it felt like the air had turned to syrup, too thick for his lungs to handle.

Pike’s mouth was set in a furious sneer, and the crazy look in his eyes had only gotten worse. Past reasoning with, probably, but Peter had to try. “There’s a parking lot full of FBI agents looking in,” he pleaded. “Probably camera crews, too. You’re Charles Pike, the head of Pike & Dolan. You don’t want the world to see you mowing down two kids in a motel room.”

Pike blinked, and for a minute, Peter thought he’d actually gotten through to him. The gun lowered slightly, pointed at an angle; if he pulled the trigger, he’d take off one of Peter’s feet.

Noa’s breathing was shallow; she must be just as scared. He wanted to throw her a reassuring glance, but it didn’t seem like a good time for sudden movements.

“It’s too late.” Pike sounded resigned, which was even more frightening, like he didn’t have a choice anymore.

“So do it.” Noa’s voice was threaded with steel. Peter jerked his head around, shocked. She was propped up on the pillows. Her skin was pale and waxy, but her eyes shone with a fierce fire. “You’ve been trying to kill me for months, you sick bastard. At least you finally got the courage to do it face-to-face.”

She was focusing on Pike’s torso. Following her gaze, Peter saw a series of small red dots running up and down Pike’s side like angry ants.

Peter forced his eyes back to Pike’s face. Slowly, he inched farther up the bed until he hit the headboard. He reached out and took Noa’s hand. It felt cool. She clasped his palm tightly in hers.

Pike’s chest was heaving, making the bulletproof vest flex. “You’ve ruined everything,” he said, raising the gun back up.

Peter dove, trying to cover Noa with his body as the window shattered into a million pieces. The sound of gunfire, impossibly loud, like bombs were blowing up right beside them. Followed by the smell, acrid and thick.

Then, silence.

“Ouch,” Noa said. “You’re crushing me.”

He rolled off her and whipped around. Pike had been hurled halfway across the room. He lay facedown on the carpet. The vest was riddled with bullet holes, and a thick stream of blood poured from what was left of his head.

“Don’t look,” Peter advised.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I can barely see again.”

“What?” he asked, turning back to her.

Noa had a glassy look in her eyes, like she was staring past him at something he couldn’t see. A dark bloom was spreading across her torso.

“Shit, he shot you!” Frantically, Peter cupped both hands to the wound. Blood pulsed out, fast and warm and thick.

“It’s okay, Peter,” she said softly. “Just let me go.”

“No!” Peter heard shouting behind him, sensed other people entering the room. But it sounded far away, distant; tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision. The blood seemed to be coming faster; her entire shirt was soaked with it. “Please, stay with me.”

Noa’s lips curved up slightly. In a tight voice, she said, “We got him. Did you see the look on his face? That was perfect.”

Someone was trying to drag him away from her; he fought against them. “You’re going to be fine,” he insisted. “They’re going to make you better.”

A tear slid down her cheek. “Thanks, Vallas,” she said faintly. “For everything.”

Peter clenched her hand fiercely. “Don’t you dare give up. Not now.”

But her eyes had closed. As he watched, her chest rose, then fell.

It didn’t rise again.

“Noa!” he screamed, shaking her. Her body was limp, and her eyes stayed closed. “Noa, wake up!”

Paramedics were already bending over her. Someone at his shoulder was shouting questions, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying, couldn’t tear his eyes from Noa. She was so pale against the dark comforter. Her features had gone still, like she’d been cast in marble.

One of the paramedics started CPR; another clamped a plastic mask over her face. Her chest moved reflexively, sending more blood pooling out. But she didn’t open her eyes.

Peter hardly noticed the tears running down his cheeks as they finally led him away.

Teo kept his arms wrapped tightly around Daisy’s shoulders; the space blanket the cops had provided enveloped them in a warm, crinkly cocoon.

“I can’t believe it’s really over,” she said, staring back at the mansion.

“I can’t believe we finally got out of that damn house,” Teo muttered.

She laughed. After a second, he joined in. It was high-pitched, hysterical, the giddiness of two people who couldn’t quite accept that they’d survived.

Zeke stood off to the side conferring with a tall, broad-shouldered guy: Luke, the head of the Northeast chapter. He’d gotten their SOS, and managed to convince what remained of his cell to attempt a rescue mission. Fully armed, no less; apparently once the Santa Cruz group fell, Luke had given up on less lethal weapons. Two kids hadn’t survived the battle with Pike’s men.

Teo wondered how Noa would feel about that.

News was trickling in slowly. The cops didn’t seem to know much, except that they’d been ordered here based on some sort of televised confession by Pike. Rumor had it he was dead, too, but they were unwilling or unable to provide any details. Apparently the FBI was en route, along with a half dozen other organizations that went by acronyms. The state troopers had told them to hang tight, since there would be a lot of people who wanted to talk to them.

All Teo wanted was to curl up somewhere with Daisy and get some sleep. But not until they knew Peter and Noa were okay. Every time he asked, the cops gave terse, evasive answers.

A slew of state troopers were searching the peninsula for Mason, but so far he hadn’t turned up. Which wasn’t really surprising. Teo suspected they’d never see him again.

A cop approached Luke and Zeke and said something to them. Zeke’s voice rose angrily in response; the cop laid a hand on his shoulder, his voice set at a low murmur.

“What do you think’s going on?” Daisy asked, her voice filled with dread.

Zeke’s legs suddenly gave out, as if a string had been cut. On his knees, he threw back his head and wailed up at the rising moon.

“Oh, no,” Teo breathed. “No, no, no . . .”

Daisy started shaking, crying into his shoulder. Teo clasped her tightly in his arms, resting his head against hers as his own tears started to fall.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

N
oa opened her eyes and frowned. She was lying on a hospital bed in a windowless room. Looking down, she saw that she was wearing a cotton gown; no markings on it, though. An IV line jutted into her right arm.

Anxiously, she reached down: There was an enormous bandage on her chest. “Oh, no,” she groaned. “Not again.”

“Hey.”

She turned toward the voice. Zeke was sitting in a chair a few feet away, smiling at her. He looked different: His dark hair was shorter, his eyes deeper set. He smiled tentatively at her. Noa frowned. “Is this heaven? Because I was really expecting the clothes to be better.”

His eyes crinkled up at the corners. “Nope. Not unless Boston Medical counts.”

“But . . .” Noa shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs; they must have drugged her, everything was cast in a watery haze. “You’re dead.”

He pulled the chair closer to the bed. “I made it. Pike got his doctors to fix me up.”

“You’re alive?” It didn’t seem possible; she must be in some weird dream state. Or she really was dead. She could still feel the weight of him in her lap, the sticky warmth of his blood flowing over her legs. There had been so much of it. . . . “You’re really alive?”

“Yup.” Zeke grinned at her. “And so are you.”

Noa took a minute to process that. The last thing she remembered was that awful motel room. Pike dropping to the floor. Peter screaming at her to hold on. “But Pike’s dead.”

“He sure is.” Zeke looked downright gleeful. “And everyone knows what he did.”

“So the plan worked.” She closed her eyes, relieved. “Peter’s fine?”

“Worried about you, but yeah. Other than that, he’s fine.”

Frowning, she asked, “So where the hell have you been?”

Zeke burst out laughing, his teeth flashing white. “Pike was keeping me at his place in Maine. Trust me, if I could have gotten out sooner, I would’ve. I escaped with Daisy and Teo.”

“Wait, what? They’re in California.”

“They never made it.” Seeing her puzzled look, he added, “It’s kind of a long story.”

“Are they okay?”

“We’re fine,” Teo chimed in from the doorway.

Daisy rushed past him and hurled herself at the bed. “Oh my God, Noa, you had us so scared. I seriously thought you were dead when I first saw you.”

“How long have I been here?” Noa asked as Daisy threw both arms around her.

“Careful, Daisy,” Zeke warned. “The doctors said to watch her chest.”

Daisy pulled back so fast she nearly tumbled into Zeke’s lap. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, Noa. I keep forgetting—”

Noa touched the bandage again. “The thymus?”

“They took it out,” Zeke explained. “Said it was killing you. Then they put you in a coma for a week to make sure your body adjusted.”

Noa ran her hand across the bandage. For so long, she’d thought she had the ability to sense the thymus, keeping time with her heartbeat. Now, she felt nothing but a void.

Daisy was gripping her hand like she was trying to haul her onto a life raft. “That kind of hurts, Daisy,” Noa said, wincing.

Daisy quickly released it. “Sorry. I’m just so happy you’re okay!”

“We all are,” Teo added.

“Where’s Peter?” Noa tried to peer past them, but the corridor outside her room was empty.

“He’s been here the whole time, pretty much,” Daisy said. “I mean, the FBI has been questioning him a lot—like, every day. But he made them do it here, in case something changed with you.”

“So where is he now?” Noa demanded.

Zeke was staring at her silently, a question in his eyes. The frankness of it was discomfiting.

“They operated on Amanda yesterday,” Teo offered. “Peter’s been going back and forth between your recovery rooms.” Glancing at Zeke, he seemed to catch on. “Uh, Daisy and I could go get him. Right, Daisy?”

“What?” Daisy’s head moved back and forth between them, then she exclaimed, “Oh! Sure. We’ll be right back.”

She grabbed Teo’s hand and dragged him from the room. Noa was left alone with Zeke. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her. Self-consciously, she ran a hand through her hair: It was knotted and oily. She probably looked awful.

“So you went red, huh?” Zeke said. “Gotta say, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh. I can’t wait to dye it back.” Suddenly struck by the absurdity of worrying about her hair when she’d almost died, she laughed.