Splinter (The Machinists Book 2) (23 page)

Nolan slid to a stop at the base of the ridge and scrambled up, stopping near the top and dropping onto his stomach to peer over the crest. He must have been content with what he saw, because he scrambled over the debris and disappeared onto the other side.

Allyn’s blood pounded through his veins so hard he could feel his pulse in the tips of his fingers. He realized that he was holding his breath, expecting at any moment to hear the wild wail of sirens. When they didn’t come, he turned to Liam.

“Looks like it’s your turn.”

Liam’s eyes went wide with fear. “You want me to go next?”

“Yes,” Allyn said. He didn’t think Liam had the courage to follow if he and Nolan weren’t there to push him.

If Liam understood that, he didn’t say anything. He took a couple sharp breaths and moved into position at the edge of the wall where Nolan had been. Still a head taller than Liam, Allyn was easily able to see over him. The distance between them and the ridge seemed longer than it had a moment before, the odds of success slimmer. But they were committed.

“Ready?” Allyn whispered.

“Yeah.” Liam’s voice was stronger than Allyn had anticipated, filled with a nervous excitement.

“Okay,” Allyn said. “Pick a spot and go. Keep your eyes locked on that spot. Don’t look back. Don’t look to see if anyone notices. Just run.”

“Allyn,” Liam said, determination in his eyes. “I’ve got this.”

Taking a step back, Allyn measured the kid who stood in front of him. He seemed taller and broader, more of a man than he’d been before. Circumstance and responsibility had forced Liam to grow up.

“All right then,” Allyn said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Liam scanned the area in front of him one final time and took three sharp breaths, a silent countdown. Then he broke into a run.

Liam had never been a graceful runner, lacking the coordination of most boys his age, but in that moment, he looked like something else. Head level. Legs driving. Hands relaxed. He reminded Allyn of a well-trained athlete running a forty-yard dash. Allyn watched the surroundings, ready to shout an order for him to drop, but the world remained calm. Something didn’t feel right about that, but he chalked it up to the fact that their plans always seemed to be fraught with unexpected complications.

Liam dropped to his knees, sliding the final few feet to the base of the ridge, then, breathing heavy, he turned to give Allyn an enthusiastic smile and waved him forward.

Not wanting to tempt fate—and perhaps worried he might lose his nerve—Allyn pushed himself from the wall then sprinted into the dead area between him and Liam. It was a strange feeling, running while expecting to be seen or have your head blown off at any second. Not that he expected the cops to shoot without being provoked. Then again, the Portland Police Bureau didn’t exactly have a stellar reputation.

He did precisely what he’d told Liam not to do—succumb to the temptation to watch the black SUV in the distance. For the first time, he thought he could see movement behind the tinted windows.

He strained his eyes, willing himself to see beyond the barrier, and lost focus, stumbling and tripping. He hit the ground hard, cracking his head on a rock. Darkness crept in from the edges of his vision, and he found himself looking up at the pink sky, where stars peeked through the thin layer of clouds, saying goodbye for the day. Allyn rolled onto his knees, rubbing the side of his head. The rock wasn’t a rock at all, but a hand-blown vase, somehow untouched by the fire that had claimed everything else.

Allyn rose to his feet, his head still ringing, his steps sluggish and uneven as if he were walking drunkenly through sand. Liam was on the ladder now, his back to the SUV, only his head visible above the ridge. He waved Allyn on emphatically.

By the time Allyn made it to the ridge, he’d regained a level of normalcy. He crawled up the ashy mound, which coated his hands in the dry residue. Liam had finished crawling down the ladder and was waiting with Nolan at the base of the library. Keeping as low as possible, he whipped a leg over onto the ladder. And that’s when he heard it—the distinct sound of a door opening.

Allyn snapped his head around. The driver’s door was open. The officer kicked his legs out, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He laughed and said something to his partner then moved farther out of the vehicle.

Allyn acted without thought, pulling his leg back off the ladder. He didn’t jump, so much as he dropped. He’d never given much thought to how far down a single story was. Fifteen, twenty feet maybe, from the top of the roof to the ground. Far enough to break bones. To experience free fall. To understand true terror.

His stomach lurched into his chest as the wind roared past his ears. The light disappeared around him, and the ash gave way to dark soil as the ground rose to grab him. He heard a distant scream. It might have been his.

He hit the dark soil as if he’d hit concrete. His legs buckled under his weight, and he folded up like one of Liam’s laptops. His kneecaps drove into his chest, and his chin bounced off the earth. Pain shot through him, from his feet, to his chest, to his head, and a high-pitched squeal filled the air. Allyn blinked. Rolled. More pain.
What is that noise?
Coughing, he struggled to regain clarity—and failed.

His chest in agony, he struggled for breath. The squeal grew louder.
It’s me
.
The squeal is me.
He stopped fighting and let the pain wash over him.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, likely only a few seconds, but long enough for his mind to catch up to what his body had just done.
Stupid
.
You’re no good to anyone dead
.

Liam and Nolan appeared a moment later. They were talking. Concerned.

“Allyn… Allyn… can you hear me?” Nolan whispered, crouching down over him. His eyes flickered to the ridge above. “Allyn, blink if you can hear me.”

“I’m fine,” Allyn said, surprised by how much speaking hurt. He planted an elbow under him and rolled onto his side. The cool earth felt good against his exposed skin, helping him focus on something other than the pain.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Nolan said, watching as Allyn rose to his feet.

Allyn stifled a cry of pain. His whole body ached, but as far as he could tell, nothing was broken.

“I’m fine,” Allyn repeated. “Let’s go.”

They shuffled down a narrow pathway, the concrete exterior of the library on one side and a wall of earth on the other. The library had been excavated like an ancient tomb. The narrow path of dark, wet soil circling the outside was squishy under their feet, and in places, long sheets of plywood had been laid over standing water. Everywhere, the smell of living earth was heavy—a welcomed retreat from the suffocating scent of smoke, ash, and death.

At the front of the library, they waited. It was the closest point to the officers. Only fifteen or so feet above and a few yards behind the ridge, they could hear the thick coughs of a lifetime smoker and muffled conversations between partners. Allyn couldn’t make out the words, but the conversation was lively and jovial.

When they finally heard the solid
thunk
of the door closing, they made for the library’s glass door. The interior was dark, and a red light shone on the electronic keypad, indicating it was locked. Allyn placed a hand on the wall for support as Nolan punched in the new passcode.

The door hissed and slid open, and the interior lights flickered on. It might as well have been a gunshot in the deep silence of the night. Allyn waited, expecting shouts of surprise and alarm from above, but they never came. So, without wasting another second, they moved inside.

Under the McCollum Family’s care, the library had proudly displayed rare magi artifacts, art, and armor, but it seemed as the FBI had taken over, they had turned the library into an extension of their evidence room. Already boxed, organized, and prepared for transport, the artifacts were grouped together by type, stacked, organized, and catalogued in a grid. The majestic display that Allyn had fallen in love with had been replaced by the cold efficiency of law enforcement and bureaucracy.

Liam’s face was a mix of relief and disapproval. Allyn thought back to the trip to his condo and the feelings that had brought up. He hadn’t known if Liam’s reaction would be as strong or stronger. He’d held it together in the manor, but the library had been his. It very obviously no longer was. The door hissed closed behind them.

“At least they did half the work for us,” Allyn said lightly. “I’ll let Jaxon know we’re in.”

Nolan strolled past Liam, lightly slapping him on the back. “Let’s get to it.”

Allyn texted Jaxon.
We’re in.
The first two parts of their plan had come together with only minimal complications. Allyn breathed a sigh of relief.

It was punctuated by a distant boom that sounded much like a low note from a bass guitar. Nolan stopped abruptly, box in hand, his eyes going wide.

“What was that?” Liam asked.

Another boom.

Then another.

Allyn peered skyward out the glass door in time to see the last of the stadium lights shut off. The final boom echoed across the grounds, vibrating the library like an exclamation point.

And a half-second later, the library went dark.

Chapter 26

“T
here’s no power,” Liam said. “It won’t open.”

Allyn refused to listen. He held his palms flat against the glass, trying to force the door open. Nothing happened, but he tried again anyway.

The interior of the library had gone dark, and Liam was little more than a shadow behind Allyn. Allyn’s palms slipped, screeching across the glass as he tumbled.

Nolan caught him under his armpits. “Let me help.”

“The entire manor collapsed around it,” Liam said, “and you really think you can open it with your hands?”

Ignoring Liam, Allyn counted down from three, and together, he and Nolan tried their combined efforts. Allyn’s face went hot with exertion, and his breath rushed out as he gave up.

Nolan studied the door as if it were a puzzle he could solve. “Back up.”

“What are you going to do?” Allyn asked.

“Just get behind me.” Nolan’s hands began to glow. The light was a welcome sight within the darkness.

“What are you doing?” Liam asked. “Don’t! It won’t do any good!”

“We have to try something.” The energy pulsed through Nolan’s arms, growing brighter with every beat of his heart. “Get back.”

Allyn moved deeper into the library, finding a place near the empty bookshelves. Most of the books had been individually bagged inside what looked like large freezer bags then placed inside green plastic totes that snapped shut. The totes were then stacked in front of the shelf. Peeking around from behind one of these stacks, Allyn watched as Liam tried to talk Nolan out of blasting the door.

“You’re just going to hurt yourself,” Liam said. “Or damage the artifacts we have in here.”

Nolan turned on Liam. “That door is our only way out. And in case you haven’t noticed, it’s sealed shut. That means we’re not getting out until it’s open. It also means that unless you have some sort of backup system pumping air into this room, the only air we have to breathe is in here right now. So if we don’t get it open soon, the three of us are going to die in here.”

It might have been the white light radiating from Nolan’s hands, but Liam appeared to suddenly go very pale. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“I know,” Nolan said. “Now, please, step back and find some cover.”

Liam moved next to Allyn and watched as Nolan’s arms grew brighter. The light poured back and forth from his hands to his elbows like water in a tube. As the wave rushed back toward his hands, Nolan threw his arms forward, his palms outstretched. The light erupted from his hands in a streak that reverberated through the chamber. Allyn threw his hands over his ears, barely covering them before the energy struck the glass barrier. A brilliant, violent light exploded on contact.

Allyn slammed his eyes shut—too late. The afterimage burned in his vision. He felt the energy rebound through the room like a ripple in water. The stack of totes shuddered, and across the library, something crashed to the ground. Glass shattered and plastic scraped across the rough floor. When the wave returned from the opposite direction, it was little more than a casual breeze. The concrete wall had absorbed much of the energy.

Allyn opened his eyes. They were wet, and he tried to blink away the white afterimage, but it didn’t help. Rubbing them didn’t help, either.

“I can’t see,” Liam said.

“Me neither.”

“I’m blind!” Liam said.

“It’ll pass,” Nolan said from across the room. “Give it a few minutes.”

Fortunately, it took less time than Nolan had suggested. When Allyn’s vision returned, he found Nolan in the same place he’d been before—his attention still consumed by the door in front of him. It remained closed, and the only damage was a small dark blemish in the center of the glass.

“I told you,” Liam said. “You can’t force it open.”

“What do we do?” Nolan asked, half to himself.

“We get the library ready for transport,” Allyn said. “And hope to fucking God that somebody can get the power back on.”

“Sabotaged?” Jaxon said, reading the message for the second time.
He looked up from his phone, only moderately aware of the gathering group around him. He remained along the tree line, surveying the battlefield as an ancient commander would. However, instead of music and flags to relay messages and orders, Jaxon had the best of modern technology.

It had only taken them a few moments to realize something was wrong after the stadium lights flared out. The steady rumble of the generator powering the site had gone quiet, replaced by an ominous silence. If Allyn’s squad had entered the library, they would be trapped—so it was with growing apprehension that he’d sent Brandt and Andrew out to power up the generator.

How?
Jaxon wrote back.

Wires ripped free.

Jaxon frowned. Why would the police sabotage their own generator? Had they purposely trapped Allyn inside? Though the idea was a little convoluted, it wasn’t entirely out of the question.

The next message came.
I don’t think we’re alone
.

Elaborate,
Jaxon wrote back.

Hasty job. Irreversible. No power without another generator. The added darkness does nothing but give us the advantage.

Jaxon closed his eyes. Brandt’s conclusions validated the growing sense of unease in his stomach. They were mid-operation, with one unit likely trapped inside a concrete cell, while at least one active police force was still on-site. If there was an unknown force, he needed to know about it before they proceeded.

All units hold,
Jaxon wrote. Then to Brandt:
Return on the double
.

An explosion shook the ground.

Jaxon whipped his head up to see an orange ball of flame erupt under one of the SUVs at the manor’s entrance, sending hulking mass of metal soaring into the sky. Jaxon’s first thought was that one of the units hadn’t received his orders in time—or that they had ignored him altogether. But none of the McCollum magi would have acted like that. And besides, those SUVs and the police inside had already been subdued.

As the first SUV landed in a crunch of screaming metal and shattering glass, the second SUV was attacked. Alert this time, Jaxon caught the orange fireball as it streaked down the gravel driveway. It pummeled the side of the SUV, wedging it against the concrete partition of the elevated gardens.

Jaxon traced its trajectory back to about a dozen shadows hustling toward the manor. They moved with undisciplined chaos, descending upon the SUVs, ripping off the doors, and launching more fire at the helpless officers inside.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

The third SUV, the one that had been guarding the library, sped toward the battle. The officer in the passenger seat leaned out of his window, shooting at the mysterious group.

All but one of the enemy magi took cover. They moved as if they intended to intercept the SUV then launched a third fireball, which struck one of the front tires. The SUV lurched and spun. Driven by forward momentum, it flipped, rolling once, twice, three times, before coming to a rest on the cab, the tires pointed to the sky.

The battlefield went quiet, save for the crackling of the distant fires. The unknown magi force formed back up into their undisciplined line and stepped into the manor. Their course would take them to the library.

“I knew it.”

Jaxon nearly jumped out of his skin then relaxed as he realized the two figures that had appeared in front of him were Brandt and Andrew.

“I knew we weren’t alone,” Brandt continued. A lather of sweat covered his face, wetting the tips of his gray hair. “Do you think they had time to call for backup?”

“There’s no way to know.”

“Who is it?”

Jaxon shook his head. “I can’t be sure, but I don’t know many magi who would openly attack a human police force.”

“No,” Brandt said, his voice trembling in anger and fear. “I suppose there’s only one I can think of, too.”

Inside the library, the sounds of explosions were muffled, yet unmistakable. The concrete rumbled under Allyn’s feet, and the dark florescent lights swayed, squeaking softly. Allyn imagined dust falling off shelves and from the ceiling, but that would never happen in Graeme’s library. The microscopic dust particles would savage the artifacts. The police, however, hadn’t been so precious, and Allyn thought he felt dust tickling his nose and the back of his throat.

Moisture hung in the room, clinging to the walls, books, and art, creating condensation that clung to the edges of shelves, tables, and chairs. The glass encasements that had once housed artifacts were fogged and wet to the touch. Allyn thought he could almost smell the scent of moldy decay of everything Liam held dear. The damage would be irreversible. He just hoped Liam would be able to preserve the contents in a digital form before their stories were lost.

Liam was across the library, stacking plastic totes and using the flashlight application on his phone for light. The tiny single light source left him alternating between an elongated shadow and a silhouette. He froze as a second explosion vibrated the library, his wide eyes following the invisible sound as if he were attempting to spot a plane on the horizon.

“They’re on their way,” Allyn said.

“You said it wouldn’t come to this,” Nolan said. He was behind Allyn, in the bowels of the library, and his voice echoed across the bare chamber. The pinprick of his flashlight moved toward Allyn like a ping on a radar detector.

“We don’t know what happened up there,” Allyn said. “If Jaxon attacked, it was provoked. I can promise you that. Regardless of what your partner believes, we’re not in the habit of killing cops.”

“Old partner,” Nolan said. He came closer, carrying a tote, his phone resting on top. The light pointed upward into his face so that dark shadows circled his eyes, giving him a sinister appearance.

This is how they see us—as monsters.

“Even so,” Allyn said. “That’s not what we’re about.” He bagged up the last of the books from the shelf then placed them in the green tote and snapped it shut. “How much is left?” Allyn asked when it became apparent Nolan wasn’t going to force the issue.

“Just a couple more.” Nolan dropped the tote near the door.

Liam didn’t answer. He picked up a book from the floor. The dry leather spine creaked as Liam opened it, and a loose page fell from the binding and stuck to the damp floor. Liam’s expression soured as if he had just opened a present he’d been dreaming about for weeks, only to find it broken and unusable.

Allyn started to say something, but movement near the door caught his attention. He winced as he set the tote on the ground—the dull ache in his body was growing worse—and gingerly took a couple steps toward the door. Light from Nolan’s and Liam’s flashlights reflected off the thick glass.

“Turn your lights off,” Allyn said.

“Why?” Liam asked, keeping his eyes on the book.

“I think someone’s here.”

Liam looked up and followed Allyn’s gaze to the door. A moment later, the library went dark, and Allyn heard Nolan’s shuffling steps draw closer.

“I don’t see anything,” Liam said.

“Give it a moment,” Allyn said. “Let your eyes adjust.” Even as he said it, his own self-doubt grew stronger. There wasn’t much room between the door and the wall of soil. The darkness was deep and the dim reflections of Nolan and Liam on the glass played games with his eyes.

Nolan passed Allyn, walking toward the door in a slight crouch, his legs taut, ready to spring into action. His hands were at his sides, palms facing out and ready to wield. Something had spooked him. And that made Allyn nervous.

Something cracked against the door, exploding with a flash of blue light. Allyn started as Nolan’s silhouette stumbled backward. The library went dark again.

“What the hell was that?” Nolan shouted.

Crack!
Two more mini-explosions briefly illuminated the area around the door, like fireworks in a summer sky. Standing several paces behind the door and partially hidden from view was a group of dark figures, half a dozen in all, and evenly split so three flanked either side of the door. They were dressed in black, with dark hoods and masks that concealed the lower halves of their faces. And they were wielding again.

In unison, the magi at the end of each line unleashed their new creation. Still solid, the blue ice glowed from within with a flickering orange light. Allyn recognized it as a volatile concoction of ice and fire meant to combust on impact. They struck the glass door with enough force to rattle the empty bookcases against the bare walls.

For a brief moment, Allyn thought it would be enough to bring down the door, but as the flash dimmed, there wasn’t so much as a chip in the glass. The two units, once again nearly invisible in the darkness, waited.

Allyn slid forward beside Nolan, a sudden rush of adrenaline easing his aching muscles. He harnessed it, using the adrenaline to stoke the power inside him, and almost immediately, his magic sprang to life. Nolan followed his lead, and a moment later, the strange white glow of energy emitted from his palms.

Outside, a slender figure roughly Allyn’s height broke from the units and approached the glass door. The man’s piercing blue eyes narrowed as he saw Allyn, burning with an intense hatred. He didn’t have to pull down his mask—Allyn already knew who he was. Darian Hyland.