Sloane (22 page)

I sniffed, and I realized I wasn’t crying anymore.
Maybe if I kept talking, the tears wouldn’t come. “So, anyway, he
went out, and he told me to keep my door locked. We were squatting
in this old abandoned house, and I had a room there, and that was
where he told me to stay. I should have gone with him. I wanted to
go with him. But Silas was always really protective, and the places
he went to sell stuff were sometimes dangerous, and he never wanted
me to go. So, I didn’t. I stayed. And they came for me while he was
gone. They took me down into the basement, and I thought they were
going to do it. And I couldn’t…” I stared down at the carpet, and
my voice deserted me. “I couldn’t stop them,” I said hoarsely.

Axel’s face twisted. He started to speak.

I didn’t let him. I started talking again, and my
voice came out clear and strong. “And Silas came in, and he started
just going crazy on them. There was blood everywhere. So much of
it. And I just watched and watched. Didn’t even help.” I shook my
head, still unable to fathom why I’d been so useless. “It wasn’t
until the last second that I did anything. But I was lucky, because
all that time that I wasn’t moving, they could have killed me.”

“Sloane—”

“No,” I said. “In the hotel room, the same thing
happened. I froze up, and I couldn’t do anything. If you hadn’t
been there, I’d be locked up and brainwashed just like the rest of
them. So, for me to think that I can stop this, that I can save
them… I’m being an idiot.”

Axel crossed the room to me, and he took me by the
shoulders. “Stop.”

I looked up into his eyes.

He took a shaky breath. He cupped my cheek with his
palm. “Stop talking.”

I bit my lip. I’d disgusted him, hadn’t I? He
couldn’t stand hearing any more.

Axel rested his forehead against mine. “You are
not
an idiot. You are incredibly strong.”

“No,” I said. “No, I’m not. I’m weak and pathetic and
I can’t—”

“Shh.”

My phone rang again.

“God damn it, Christa.” I pushed him away and went
for the phone.

He grabbed me by the wrist. “Wait a second,
okay?”

I hesitated.

“God.” He clenched his jaw. “That story, Sloane. That
whole story, that’s crazy.”

I pulled my wrist out of his grasp. The phone was
still ringing.

I picked it up. “Christa, I
said
I would call
you back.”

“Here’s the thing,” she said. “I’m in Boston.”

“What?” I said.

“Well, it’s like I said. You can’t do it alone. And I
want to help. So I got on a plane and I came. But this is a big
city, and I don’t know where you are. So, can you tell me where you
are?”

I dragged a hand over my face.

Fuck
.

* * *

The elevator opened, and Christa stepped into Axel’s
apartment. She was carrying a suitcase, and she had a backpack
flung over one shoulder. She surveyed the surroundings with wide
eyes.

“So, I don’t get it,” she said. “Why aren’t you in a
hotel?”

“I
don’t get it,” I said, glaring at her. “Why
aren’t you in Austin?”

Axel cleared his throat. “Hi there, let me introduce
myself. I’m Axel Whitman.” He offered Christa his hand.

Christa set down her suitcase and shook hands with
him. “Christa Fawkes.”

“This is my apartment,” he said.

“It looks more like a small country.” She rounded on
me. “What the hell is going on? I thought you were trying to rescue
my brother and your brother and Leigh.”

“I am,” I said.

She pointed at Axel. “So, who’s he?”

Axel turned to me. “Sloane, your friend is even more
rude than you are.”

Christa’s jaw dropped. “
What
did you just
say?”

Axel smiled tightly. “Don’t say things like that to
Sloane.”

“Like what?”

“Don’t imply she’s not doing everything within her
power to save the others. Because she is. And she’s been in danger,
and she’s been shot at, and she just showed up back here covered in
blood a few hours ago, and it’s tearing her apart that she can’t
fix this.” Axel’s voice was even, with just a tinge of displeasure.
He eyed her boredly. “I don’t know who you are, love, but I thought
you were here to help, not to level stupid accusations.”

Christa was taken aback.

I ran a hand through my hair. I felt like I was
falling apart. “Don’t yell at her, Axel.”

“Yell?” said Axel. “Me?”

Christa eased her backpack off of her shoulder. “I’m
really, really confused right now.”

I pointed at Axel. “He’s an old friend of Leigh’s.
He’s been helping me out. He’s not bad with a gun, and if it wasn’t
for him, I’d have already gotten kidnapped too.”

“Oh,” said Christa. “Well, why didn’t you just say
that? Geez, there’s a lot of tension in this room.”

“That’s because Sloane and I were in the middle of a
conversation before you showed up,” said Axel.

“No, we weren’t,” I said.

He let out a disbelieving laugh. “
Yes
, we
were.”

Christa raised her eyebrows. “So, you guys are
fucking?”

“No,” I said.

“No,” said Axel.

She nodded slowly. “Right.” She walked across the
room to one of the windows and peered down. “Well, I know that
having a lover’s spat seems perfectly reasonable when you’re in a
luxurious apartment way up on the twentieth floor, but can I
suggest that we all try to focus on—Hey!”

“What?” I hurried over to her.

She was pointing. “You see that car down there?”

Axel was behind us, peering over our heads. “There
are hundreds of cars down there.”

“That black one,” said Christa. “I saw that car at
the airport.”

I drew back. “You did?”

“I don’t see how you can tell from all the way up
here,” said Axel.

“They followed you,” I said in a quiet voice.

“What?” said Axel. “There’s no way.”

I looked at Christa. “They must have been watching
you. When you showed up in Boston, they knew something was up.”

“I led them here?” said Christa.

“There’s no one here,” said Axel.

“I didn’t mean to,” said Christa.

“Guns,” I said. “We need guns.” I darted into my
bedroom, yanking guns and ammunition out of my suitcase.

“Sloane, there’s no one here!” Axel called after
me.

I ran back into the living room, shoving weapons and
clips into each of their hands.

“They would never break into my apartment and try to
shoot any of us,” said Axel. “If my father found out, he’d—”

The elevator dinged.

We all turned.

“I didn’t buzz anyone up,” Axel muttered.

The door opened.

I saw their guns first—large semi-automatic weapons
with gaping barrels. As they opened fire, I made out that they were
in the same kinds of uniforms as the guards at the lab, and as the
men who’d broken into my hotel room.

“Down!” I screamed, diving behind the couch and
pulling the other two with me.

We all fell down in a heap, Axel beside me, Christa
on top of me.

Bullets rat-a-tatted through the air, blowing a long
line of holes through the back of Axel’s white couch, shattering
his glass coffee table, and exploding the potted palm he had by the
door.

Christa shrieked.

I looked up to see her clutching her shoulder. Blood
was pouring out of the wound.

Damn it. She was already hurt. She’d been here for
less than ten minutes, and she was hurt. If Silas wasn’t
brainwashed, he was going to strangle me.

I shoved Christa back behind Axel. “Get her to the
kitchen,” I yelled at him. I had to yell to be heard over the gun
fire.

Axel was looking at the back of his couch with wide
eyes. “They just ruined—”

I grabbed him and pointed. “That way. Stay low. Take
her with you.
Hide
her.”

“They
can’t
be in here.”

I peered around the couch to survey what was going
on.

The guards weren’t exactly in the mood to conserve
ammunition, because they were blowing everything sky high. They
were spraying bullets everywhere, all five of them grinning like
kids playing in an arcade.

I took quick but careful aim at one of them and
planted a bullet in his skull.

He fell backwards, still shooting as he screamed.

But that meant the other four saw me, and they
peppered my side of the couch with gunfire.

I yelped, scrambling backwards.

Axel was still there.

“Kitchen,” I screamed.

Christa cringed, still holding onto her shoulder.

Axel looked at her, and, seeming to realize what I
was saying, scooted over to her. I saw him talking to her, but
there was too much noise to hear what he was saying.

Bullets were still punching through the couch,
blowing out stuffing and fabric.

I lunged to the other side, popping my head and my
gun out just long enough to get a sense of where they were.

They were pretty freaking confident. Even with one
man down, they hadn’t started moving further into the apartment.
They just stood their ground, guns at their hips, spitting out
bullets.

I pulled my trigger, and my shot got one of them in
the chest.

His face went white, and he stopped shooting to look
down.

But I didn’t waste too much time watching, because I
was using that moment to take aim on another one.

Bam.
Another head shot. This guy didn’t even
know what hit him. He hit the floor right away.

Three down. Two to go.

To their credit, the other two were starting to
realize I was a threat.

They started walking towards the couch.

I ducked back behind it. I didn’t see Axel or Christa
anywhere.

Good. Hopefully, he’d taken her to the kitchen, like
I’d asked.

The men were getting closer.

I saw one of them coming around the couch.

I reached out to grab his ankle. I yanked.

The man lost his balance and went sprawling, face
down.

I crawled over his body and guessed that his buddy
was right behind him. I aimed where I thought he should be and
shot.

I hit him, but not anywhere lethal. He was doubled
over. Stomach wound.

And the guy that had fallen? He was moving now.

I switched my attention back to him.

He’d lost his gun, and he was reaching for it.

I scurried over and kicked it out the way, sending it
skittering across Axel’s polished hardwood floor in the direction
of the kitchen.

Then I shot the downed guy in the head.

Pain in my side. I screamed.

God. Two shots had gone clean through my rib cage.
The pain was agonizing.

I stumbled, turning to face the remaining guard. He
was still clutching his stomach. His fingers were stained red. He
managed to keep his gun up with one hand, though.

And I was staring right into the barrel.

I raised my gun.

His finger moved on the trigger.

I dove out of the way, which meant that he didn’t hit
me, but that I lost a good aim on him.

I landed painfully on my side, and my ribs groaned in
pain.

He was adjusting, swinging his gun around.

I struggled to sit up, get both hands on my gun to
steady it.

And then I pulled the trigger.

There.

The shot burrowed into his eyeball. He let out a
guttural sound and toppled over.

I stood up, struggling to catch my breath.

Had I really gotten all of them? I surveyed the room.
Yeah, there they all were. Five bodies. All of them were down. None
of them were moving. Okay. Okay. Good.

I stumbled over to one of Axel’s easy chairs. It was
completely destroyed, absolutely riddled with bullet holes. I sank
down into it, gritting my teeth. My body was already at work
healing the shots in my side, but it wasn’t quite there yet. That
hurt like fuck. I let out painful breaths.

“Sloane?” came Axel’s voice from the kitchen.

“Yeah?” I called back.

“You okay?”

“Uh huh,” I managed. “I will be in a minute.”

He appeared in the doorway.

“How’s Christa?”

“She’s bleeding,” he said. “A lot.”

I grimaced. “We’re going to have to get her to a
hospital. And we can’t stay here. They know where we are now. We’re
going to need to—”

Wait a second? Was that guy near the door
twitching?

Shit. They probably all had the serum, didn’t they?
Why wasn’t I thinking? I needed to be on my feet, cutting these
assholes’ spines. Slowly, I pushed myself to stand. “Axel, I need a
knife. A really fucking sharp knife.”

“Why?” he said.

I pointed out at the men. “They’re coming back. I
need to kill them for real, got it?”

God, I was in so much pain. Every time I moved it
blasted through me. I could hardly stand to breathe. I couldn’t
heal fast enough.

I kept my eyes on the guys by the door.

But then I heard something behind me.

I whirled.

The guy that I’d just shot, the one I’d shot last,
was starting to get to his feet. But—how was he healing so fast? I
wasn’t healing that fast, and I hadn’t gone dark. Going dark always
took longer to heal than a wound that wasn’t mortal.

I swung my gun around at him, pulling the trigger
again.

He fell down, dead. For the second time.

“Axel, where the fuck is that knife?” I yelled.

“I’m sorry. I don’t actually cook in here. I don’t
know where they are!”

Damn it.

The guys at the door were moving now too. Could they
be healing so quickly because French’d had time to supercharge the
serum and make it even better at healing people? Did I have Serum
1.5 and they have Serum 2.0?

Motherfucker.

I started to raise my gun to shoot them.

And then I heard someone behind me moving.

You fucking twins should never have been born!