The Huntress (30 page)

Not that it was going to be easy it find her in solitary, he soon discovered. Hall after hall of little rooms stretched as far as he could see, each one securely locked with no way to look inside. Time passed, and Stone began to feel desperate. About to risk stopping a slave and asking where she was being kept, he passed one hall that had a guard standing sentry. As casually as he could, he continued walking.

The probability was high that Regan was in that guarded room, but it wasn’t a certainty. He had to know for sure. Besides, considering the amount of time it took for him to get there, he didn’t think he could blow the power, come all the way back to get Regan, and then make it to the presentation room to get Mea. He was going to have to take the kid with him. It was a risk. Who knew when somebody was going to check on her? But he’d rather have her with him than leave her in their hands.

Fortunately for them both, there was a way to get her out of the room without taking out the guard. The fortress had old-fashioned ventilation shafts. The architect at least had been thinking of a possible power outage—oxygen exchangers wouldn’t function without power and people would suffocate in sealed rooms if the power wasn’t restored quickly. But with ventilation shafts, air would move through rooms passively.

Stone ducked down a short, empty corridor and found the ventilation grate in the ceiling. With a quick look to make sure he was alone, he jumped up, stiff-arming it open before making another leap to catch the edge and pull himself in. Shifting backwards, he replaced the grate, then crawled back the way he’d come as quickly as he could. The shaft was barely big enough for him to elbow his way through, and it was dark enough that he needed to lower his goggles to see. The tight fit and darkness was hard on navigation, but he only made one wrong turn before he found her.

He could see Regan through the grate, and he forced himself study the room carefully before doing anything. She sat on a mat on the floor, hugging her knees. The rest of the room appeared empty, the walls bare of controls or any surveillance equipment. It looked like the guard was the only thing watching her. She sat huddled in unrelenting darkness.

He shifted the grate and then lowered himself without a whisper of sound into the room. Even though he’d made no noise, Regan tensed as he landed next to her, blindly staring in his direction. Then she launched herself at him with a gasp. “Daddy!”

He swept her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest while she clutched him around the neck. Suddenly his world seemed brighter and a painful weight lifted from his chest as he held her. After seeing what they’d done to Mea, the relief of having Regan whole and in his arms was stunning. Unconsciously his grip tightened.

“Love you, too,” she whispered in his ear. “But—can’t breathe.”

Immediately he put her down, embarrassed.

She turned her little face up to his, eyes staring blindly in the dark. “Where’s Mama?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.

He put his fingers across her mouth to silence her. Leaning close, he spoke low in her ear, “Get you out first. Talk later. You okay?”

She nodded, and he straightened to see for himself, but she was just a shadowy form and he couldn’t see details. Hoping she was telling the truth, he lifted her toward the ventilation shaft, holding her steady until she pulled herself up and in. He waited a moment or two for her to slide away from the opening before he leapt upward, catching the edge of the shaft and pulling himself up. Nudging her out of the way, he replaced the grate and took the lead in a swift crawl away from her cell.

Stone knew they couldn’t crawl through the shafts the whole way down to the power source. His progress was slow enough, but he had to keep stopping to let Regan catch up. They were running out of time and they needed to move faster than this. Dropping into a corridor was too risky—his range of vision was too limited to see if anyone was waiting for them—and dropping into an empty cell was less than useless since there was no way to open the doors from the inside. Their only choice was to crawl all the way out of the slave quarters.

As he was mulling over that disheartening thought, they passed a grate over a brightly lit room, and Stone stopped for a better look. The room below was furnished and decorated, though not as finely as the aristocrat’s section of the fortress. It looked like someone’s living quarters and with a shrug, he quietly moved the grate away from the opening. Pulling his goggles on and lowering his head down, he searched the room and listened for movement. After a minute, he swung through the opening, satisfied that there was no one in the quarters. He caught Regan as she dropped through, put her on her feet, and headed for the door.

“Dad, wait!” she whispered frantically.

He turned back with an impatient growl. “What?”

“We’re dirty. Somebody will wonder why.”

She was right. His guard uniform was dark, so the grime from the ventilation ducts wasn’t so obvious, but she wore a light gray slave’s robe and it was smeared almost black in places. Her face and arms were in no better shape, and he supposed he looked just as grimy. With a curt nod, he moved toward the sanitary, but Regan headed in the opposite direction.

When he saw that she was just ransacking one of the clothing receptacles, he continued on. In the sanitary he quickly washed the exposed portions of his skin and brushed at his clothes. The kid joined him wearing a new slave robe and jostled him aside to wash her own face and arms. He took the opportunity to look her over for injuries and for the first time he noticed the tattoos on the backs of her hands.

“What the hell is this?” he snarled the question, grabbing one of her hands.

She pulled away, giving him a reproachful look. “It’s a slave tattoo. These quarters belong to my trainer, Janis. We need to get out of here. I think she’ll be back soon.”

What he wanted to do was ambush the “trainer” and do to her whatever she’d done to Regan to make the girl’s voice so tight when she said her name. But the odds were stacked against them as it was. They needed to be on the move.

“Let’s go then,” he growled and led the way out of the sanitary and through the other room to the door. Waving a cautioning hand in her direction, Stone stepped out into the corridor. When he saw no one, he gestured her to join him.

“You first,” she whispered, eyes darting nervously down the hallway. “Slaves walk just behind.”

He nodded and started off down the hall with long strides, checking over his shoulder. She was skipping to stay with him, but he couldn’t slow down. He didn’t know if or when anybody would check on him or the kid. Once it was known that they were missing, this whole place would come crashing down on them. It was safest to assume that they had little or no time left.

Around the next corner, they passed some people who didn’t give them a second glance, but at the sight of a tall woman coming toward them with a young male slave walking behind her, Regan crowded close enough to walk on his heels and whispered, “That’s her! She can’t see me!”

Stone slowed a little, staring boldly at the woman. She had blond hair swept into a clasp at the back of her head and her robe was a drab brown, but she walked as though she was a queen. She seemed to be trying to look through him to see which slave he had with him, and he looked right back, pretending a masculine appreciation. It distracted her, and as they came abreast and he slowed to watch her pass, she tossed her head, cheeks pink. “Rude!” she hissed and continued walking with her head held high.

Regan still huddled behind his back, and he turned to face the woman in case she looked over her shoulder at them. She didn’t, continuing on around the corner.

Stone resumed his long stride, not daring to look down at the kid. He’d felt her trembling as the woman walked by, and a hot anger roughened his breathing. He didn’t know what a trainer did to make someone a slave, but he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with treats or praise.

With an effort, he pulled his thoughts away from bloody revenge and concentrated on finding the quickest route down to the main power. They were just out of the slave quarters when Regan whispered the question he’d been hoping she wouldn’t ask again. “Where’s Mom?”

He took a deep breath before answering, “Still locked up.”

“Is that where we’re going?”

“No.” Another guard approached and Stone waited for him to pass before continuing, “We need to kill the power.”

There was a long pause.

“Is she okay, Dad?”

“She will be when we get her out.”

It was the best answer he could give without lying to her. He was afraid if he told her the whole truth she’d break down and bring attention to them. Regan was silent and her presence was like a weight at his back. He wished he could tell her everything was going to be okay, but he didn’t believe that himself.

When they got to the lift that would take them down to the right level, he risked a glance down at Regan. She had her head lowered and her hands clasped at her waist, as subservient as all the rest of the slaves he’d seen. The perfect slave. Bile rose in the back of his throat.

They rode down to the generator level in bitter silence. Stepping off the lift, Stone studied the engineering section carefully. Techs buzzed all over the place, but not a one gave them a single glance. They swarmed around the plasma generators that surrounded the reactor like ants around their queen, barely acknowledging each other, let alone Stone and Regan.
Typical techies.

“How do we kill that?” Regan hissed, and Stone shrugged.

Quick and easy answer—he could use one of the guards’ guns to blast a hole in the side of a generator. Instant annihilation of everyone and everything in the fortress. Wasn’t much of a rescue plan, though. “What I need is a bomb on a timer,” he muttered.

“Sorry, left that in my other robe.”

Startled, he glanced down at her. She huddled close to him and watched the techs nervously, but still managed to roll her eyes at him in exasperation. He suppressed a grin to see the return of her attitude, relieved that they hadn’t broken her.

“Smartass,” he mumbled.

A quick smile flitted across her face before urgency replaced it. “What do we do?”

“I’m thinking.”

Stone sidled further away from the lift and continued to study the room, Regan at his side like she was glued to him. The reactor core was in the middle with the generators around it, control panels to one side, and storage units against a wall. If he could take out the control panels, that would kill the power without blowing up the fortress, but how? If he used the guns and blasted the panels, not only would the techs sit up and take notice, but the whole fortress would be on alert right stinkin’ now. He’d never get back to Mea and free her before they were caught.

If he used the guns…

“Shit.”

“What?”

“I do have a bomb on a timer.”

She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Stone eyed the control panels again. The auxiliary was separate from the main, which meant he’d have to use both guns, damn it. Brain scrambling to think ahead, he pushed Regan toward the storage units. They were careful to stay close to the wall and out of the techs’ paths.

“I’m gonna need a couple strips of cloth.”

“What?”

“Your robe. Rip a couple strips off.”

“What for?”

“Just do it.”

He was relieved to find that the storage units were neatly labeled, but then again he shouldn’t have expected anything else from techs. He found one labeled
laser cutter
and opened it, removing a cutter. Turning, he almost bowled over Regan as she bent, struggling with the hem of her robe. “Won’t rip,” she grunted, and Stone took a quick look around to see if anyone was watching this odd behavior.

The techs ignored them as thoroughly as if they were furniture. Kneeling in front of her, he ripped two long strips off the hem and then stood, pushing her back around the room toward the control panels.

On the way, a tech passed close by and spoke without looking at them, “When you’re done with it, put that cutter back where you found it.”

Stone’s heart lurched and he eyed the other people in the room with suspicion. Were they watching his every move? Or did they only notice what was part of their job to notice? If it was the first one, they were screwed. There was nothing he could do about it though, so he continued on to the control panels and pulled out one of the guns.

Immediately a female tech approached them, eyes narrow. “Don’t touch anything,” she snapped, running her eyes and fingers over the panel as though she’d expected him to have shorted the controls just by standing there.

“I won’t. Just fixing my gun.”

“Should let maintenance do that.” But her tone was disinterested. Apparently satisfied that he hadn’t screwed anything up, she walked away.

Regan pressed against his side, trembling. “Dad, we have to get out of here!” she hissed, little hands clutching at him. “What are you doing?”

He hefted the gun and brought the laser cutter against it. “These guns have a safety that keeps ‘em from firing. If you could press the trigger, the thing would wanna blast but couldn’t, overheat, and explode. But they’ve got a guard on the trigger that keeps you from pressing it when the safety’s on. I’m cutting off the guard.”

“Oh. A bomb on a timer.”

“Yeah.” He finished one gun and started on the other.

“How long’s the timer?”

Smart kid,
he thought to himself. Too smart for her own good. “Couple minutes. Five, max.”

“Not much time,” she whispered almost too low for him to hear.

He didn’t bother telling her it probably wasn’t enough time. No sense making her feel worse. “There’s an access panel close to the floor. See it?”

She nodded.

“We’ll stick one of these in there so that when they blow, they’ll take out both the main and backup. The techs are gonna freak if they see me bend down there, so I’ll hand ‘em to you and try to block them from seeing you put ‘em in there.”

“Okay.”

He pocketed the cutter, then took a strip of cloth from Regan’s robe and tied it around the gun to depress the trigger. Handing the first one to Regan, he worked on the other while she crouched by the access panel. With satisfying speed, she keyed it open, lobbed the gun in, and keyed it closed again, rising to her feet with a furtive glance around.