Ultraxenopia (Project W. A. R. Book 1) (22 page)

Unable to make this
decision, I allow Ezra to haul me from the room. Our footsteps fumble over the
threshold.

As we make our way down the
extensive corridor, I hear Dr. Richter’s voice echoing after us.

“Think about it, Wynter.
You know where to find me.”

IN. OUT. IN. OUT. MY breaths escape me
in rapid succession, my lungs ravaged from overuse. The quick bursts of air
have dried my throat, leaving it scorching and parched. There’s no time to
rest—no time to hydrate myself and ease the persistent ache overwhelming my
body. As it suffocates me, it also bears down on my heart, which now threatens
to stop beating.

Ezra’s arm latches even
tighter around my waist, and I can hear his strained breaths as he supports my
weight on top of his own. I try to help him, but I’m tired and weak. The
aftereffects of my vision are still lingering in full force, crippling my every
muscle until he’s practically dragging me alongside him. In spite of that, he
never yells at me to keep moving—never even seems to consider just leaving me
behind. He simply carries on as if it’s the only thing he can do.

As if it’s the only option
he has.

The hallways seem to go on
forever, trapping us in an endless and inescapable maze. Was the building
always this big? I can’t think straight past the dizziness clouding my brain,
and I’m not even sure if what I’m seeing is real. Everything is murky and
distorted, made worse by the increasing exhaustion creeping through me.

I grip Ezra, desperate to
hold on just a little bit longer.

Distant voices enter my
ears, growing louder with each step we take. Ezra seems to hear them too and
pulls us in their general direction, although it feels like a lifetime before
we finally reach them. Upon rounding a corner, we find ourselves face-to-face
with Jenner and Rai.

“Where the
hell
have
you been?” Jenner shouts at us.

I ignore him and look only
at Rai. Her cheeks are pink from running, and she looks flustered with panic,
but she’s here.

She’s
alive
.

Relief rushes through me,
acting as a natural adrenaline and pulling me back from my near
unconsciousness.

“Bilken was a dead end,”
Ezra says. “It was a set up by Richter. He’s here for Wynter.”

“He’s here?” Rai asks in a
small voice.

Ezra shoots a cautious look
in her direction, and I notice a flicker of fear in his eyes. Instead of
answering, he nods his head.

“We have to go
now
,”
Jenner cuts in. “The others are already out and are waiting for us back in the
tunnels.”

“Right,” Ezra murmurs before
clearing his throat. “Let’s go.”

We continue through the
seemingly infinite corridors. Jenner leads the way while Ezra and I follow,
still hobbling along like disproportionately conjoined twins. Rai brings up the
rear, ready to alert us if we’re being followed.

We head back the way we
came, since finding an alternate exit would also mean finding a new route back
to the tunnels. Something we simply don’t have time for. Surprisingly, we don’t
run into any resistance along the way. The building is strangely empty, leading
me to wonder what happened to the Enforcers that were spotted before.

Has Richter called them
off, or are they lying in wait elsewhere, preparing to attack us when we least
expect it?

I try to focus on moving
forward. That’s all that matters right now.

Get out alive,
I tell myself.

That’s all that matters.

Our footsteps echo through
the soundless hallways, our haggard breaths filling the gaps in-between. Sweat
beads along my forehead, trickling down my skin as a horrible heat begins to
consume me. It chokes me like a thick layer of smoke. I can barely breathe
because of it, and it only continues to worsen.

The heat triggers a spark,
which soon explodes into fire. With each step, the inferno rages through every
molecule of my body, tearing through me with increasing severity until I can no
longer bear it.

My hand clutches at my
throat. Yet, in spite of my suffocation, I’m still able to scream. The cries
tear from my lungs. I can’t stop them or the pain now rushing through my head.
It strikes fast, hitting me repeatedly in that same familiar pattern.

I can taste the blood
before it even floods my mouth, my screams now reduced to a muffled gargle. My
feet stumble as my body becomes weak, the pressure building within me dragging
me down to the floor.

Through the fog descending
around me, I hear Ezra call my name. I feel his warm hands catch me before my
body hits the ground, and his arms hold me against him, riding out my
convulsions with me.

I try to concentrate on his
voice. I try to go back to him to escape the future that’s intent on pulling me
away.

But I can’t.

I’m too weak to fight it.

Too weak to do anything
except let it overtake me.

As if waking from a dream,
I’m no longer with the others. I’m somewhere else. Somewhere . . .
familiar
.
All at once, I realize that I haven’t even left the building. In fact, I’m back
in Bilken’s office. The mass of bodies still covers the floor. Blood still
stains the carpet. Nothing is any different than it was less than ten minutes
ago.

I turn in place, confused
by my surroundings.

This is the same night, I’m
sure of it.

A loud gasp bursts from my
lips when I glimpse Dr. Richter standing before me. He’s positioned in front of
a window on the opposite end of the room, staring through the large panes into
the darkness of night on the other side.

I watch him carefully,
apprehensive about why I’m here, and what I’m inevitably going to see.

Goosebumps prickle my skin.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Austin.”

My heart catches in my
chest as a terrible fear rushes through me. Reluctantly, I glance over my
shoulder.

Rai stands in the doorway,
her body silhouetted by the faint glow of light flooding in from the window. At
first, she doesn’t move—her eyes fixed on the carnage laid out between them. I
can plainly see the fear in her gaze, which now turns to the only other living
person in the room.

“Raina . . .” Richter
whispers.

She stumbles forward when
he says her name. “I had to see for myself,” she breathes. “I had to see if it
was really
you
behind all of this.”

He grimaces. “And now that
you know?” he murmurs. “How does it make you feel?”

“I just want to know why!”
she cries, taking another step toward him. “None of this is doing your mother’s
memory any justice—”

“My mother?” he asks,
wincing slightly. “My work has nothing to do with my mother.”

She gapes at him, her eyes
wide with the same doubt and confusion currently holding me in place. This
revelation surprises me, since I assumed his mother’s death was his motivation
for why he so aggressively pursues anyone afflicted with the same condition. I
assumed it was the reason for why he is the way he is.

“It might’ve initially been
why I showed an interest in that line of science,” he admits. “But after a
while, that no longer mattered. All that mattered was progress.”

His tone is ominous,
sending a shiver up my spine, even though I’m not physically here. His
explanation also disturbs me, and I can’t help but wonder if the man standing
before us is the same person Ezra and Rai knew all those years ago.

What changed him? Was it
the State? Did they brainwash him, or does he actually agree with their twisted
agenda?

“Then why?” Rai whimpers.
The minimal light in the room reflects off the tears welling in her eyes.

“Can you think of no other
reason?” he asks her. “Can you honestly not think of why I might find her
ability appealing? Why I might desire the power to locate whoever I wish?”

“All this . . . because of
me
?”

“You gave me no other
choice,” he murmurs. “You left me. You
chose
Ezra.”

“I didn’t choose Ezra!” Her
voice is shrill, and she shakes her head furiously as a single tear spills down
her cheek.

She begins to close the
distance between them but seems to think better of it, leaving a wide berth
instead. Glancing down at the floor, her eyes stare for a long moment at the
pile of dead bodies. When she finally speaks again, her voice is so hushed I
can barely hear it.

“I chose freedom,” she
breathes. “Freedom over the life of slavery you were offering me, even if it
did come on a silver platter.”

“Slavery?” he sneers. “Is
that how you saw it?”

“It’s how I still see it.
Everyone up here is a slave, including you.”

“And what sort of life
would you say you have now, I wonder? Always in hiding. Always running. What
kind of life is that?” he asks.

“One that I chose,” she
mutters. “One where my free will wasn’t ripped away from me.”

The hint of emotion I saw
before immediately escapes Richter’s eyes, leaving him as cold and lifeless as
the corpses on the floor.

“I’m sorry to hear that’s
how you pictured your life with me,” he says.

“You weren’t the problem,
Austin. You never were. The world was . . .
is
.”

Any mutual feelings they
may have once had for each other seem to be lost in the tense silence. All I
can sense now is the hostility between them, due to the opposing paths they
chose to take all those years ago. Paths that ultimately led to very different
futures.

It’s enough to make me
wonder about the defining moment that broke them apart. Was it Ezra’s decision
to join PHOENIX? Or did it go even farther back than that? Perhaps back to the
moment when Richter’s career was decided? If he had been projected for a
different sector, or if he had never been given the opportunity to work for the
State, would things have been different?

“I never stopped thinking
about you,” she whispers.

For a fleeting second, I
see something rise within him that almost makes him seem human, but it
disappears just as quickly as it surfaced.

After a long moment, he
lets out a deep breath.

“There’s nothing I can do,
Raina. You must know that.”

She nods, and I’m stunned
to see a smile spread across her face. It’s a sad, heartbreaking expression,
but it’s a smile all the same.

“Once an enemy, always an
enemy, right?” she asks. “Isn’t that the State’s mantra?”

She lowers her eyes, almost
as if she can no longer stand to look at him. Nearly a whole minute passes
before she finally peeks up again. When she does, I notice the smile has gone,
and tears are now streaming down her face in its place.

“I’ve known from the moment
I left . . . what would happen if we ever saw each other again.” She chokes out
the words between stifled sobs. “If it's any consolation . . . I'm sorry. About
everything. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I wish it was enough,
Raina. I really do,” he murmurs. “But the reality is that you brought this upon
yourself.”

My eyes widen as alarm
bells sound in the back of my head. I try to intervene, but there’s nothing I
can do.

Not while I’m here.

As if answering my silent
plea to escape this, the familiar fog descends around me, ending the vision.
The room darkens into blackness as I fall toward consciousness.

However, as the last
remnant of the scene is leaving my head, I once again hear Dr. Richter’s voice.

“If I can’t have you . . .
no one can.”

My eyes snap open. I gasp
multiple times as my lungs struggle to function, and I glance up to find Ezra
leaning over me.

“Wynter!” he nearly shouts
with relief.

I inhale through my nose,
but my airway feels blocked. If I can’t breathe, I can’t speak.

I can’t tell them what’s
about to happen.

I try to convey a sense of
urgency to Ezra, but he seems far more concerned with my current well-being. I
can feel the fresh blood and tears covering my face, combining with the sticky
residue left behind from before.