Bloom (27 page)

“I’m going to find our brothers,” she said.

Dormer nodded weakly. “Don’t be alarmed,” he said, “but mine can be a royal pain.”

Haven smiled. “Why am I not surprised?”

She rested her palm on his forehead and he closed his eyes.

All of the rooms that lined the burnt hallway were empty. Haven jogged down the corridor, looking ahead to a set of large, steel doors that blocked her path. She pushed against them but they were firmly locked. A small black panel on the wall blinked with red numbers. Haven put her palm to the panel and melted it with blue plasma, but the doors did not open.

She had just turned to try and find another way deeper into the complex when the doors swung open with a pneumatic hiss and a security guard in a black uniform stepped through the doorway. He was just finishing a yawn when he saw Haven.

He stopped, looked behind him, then back at her.

“Hi,” said Haven.

“Umm, hello?” said the guard.

He reacted too slowly. Haven grabbed both sides of his head as he reached for a pistol holstered to his belt. Blue light sparked from her fingertips and scorched black lines over his face. His hair stood up on end as if he had been struck by lightning and he fell to the floor.

Haven kicked him to make sure he was unconscious. She ran past him, through the doorway, and immediately stopped.

The large room before her was empty except for a tall metal chair in the center. Strapped to the chair, every inch of his skin lined with small plastic tubes that fed down into the floor, was Noah. His head had been shaved and his scalp was punctured with a hundred thin wires that led into the floor at the base of the chair.

The walls of the rooms were lined with giant monitors, each displaying a different piece of information. Noah’s vital signs were on one, his brain functions on another—multicolored wire-thin lines traced paths on a scale, recording every impulse in his brain.

Haven ran to him and looked down at his small, frail body. He wore light blue scrubs; his hands and bare feet were filthy. She pulled aside a loose flap of fabric over his chest and recoiled in horror. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw the fresh, jagged scar that ran from the base of Noah’s throat down to the bottom of his ribcage.

He shifted in the chair and groaned softly.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” whispered Haven.

Her hands shook as she gently pulled the tubes from his skin. Small drops of blood beaded up from the tiny holes.

“I’m sorry, Noah,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

She pulled out the last of the tubes and lifted him from the chair. He moaned as she held him in her arms like she used to when he was a toddler, allowing his head to rest on her shoulder and draping his arms around her neck.

Haven hurried across the room and down the hallway.

Dormer was still lying in the spot where she left him. His eyes were open and he was staring at the ceiling.

He smiled when he saw Noah. “You found him.”

Haven looked around the room. All of the patients were still unconscious in their beds.

“Why aren’t they awake?” she asked. The sudden urge to get out after she found Noah was growing too strong to ignore.

“It will take time,” said Dormer.

“I didn’t see anyone else,” said Haven. “I’m sorry.”

Dormer smiled again. “He’s here. I can feel it. Leave him with me,” he said, gesturing to Noah. “You go and help the others. They will need it.”

“I can’t lose him again,” she said, hugging Noah close.

“You won’t. I promise.”

Dormer pushed himself to his feet and stood up straight. Haven reluctantly passed Noah into his arms.

“Better hurry,” said Dormer. “I think the black sports car would be a good choice.”

Haven rubbed her hand over Noah’s shaved scalp and shuddered when she felt the tiny bumps left behind by the wires that had dug into his skin.

The ball of light that had been slowly shrinking inside of her since she found Noah found new life and grew stronger. She allowed it to fill her body and her mind as she turned and ran down the hallway, toward the facility entrance.

28

C
olton stood up slowly in the elevator.

Corva leaned against the wall as the last of the orange light faded from her skin. The air in the hallway was thick with smoke. Lights flickered in the ceiling and from the open doorways on either side of the hall. The security guards had been pushed back into the rooms from the initial blast; their black-booted feet stuck out into the hallway.

“A little overkill,” said Corva, “but effective.”

Someone down the hall coughed.

Marius frowned. “Missed one,” he said.

He walked out of the elevator and into the dark cloud of smoke. It parted for him and curled around behind his back as he disappeared down the hall.

A moment later, Colton heard him speaking. A voice answered him, then coughed. Marius said something in Russian and there was a crack of knuckles against bone, followed by a heavy thud. Marius appeared out of the smoke in front of the elevator, brushing off the sleeves of his thick jacket.

“Sixth floor,” he said. “A little farther.”

“Nice work,” said Corva. “Faster than going level by level.” She pushed the button for the sixth floor and the doors closed silently.

“Sometimes Marius has good ideas,” he said.

The elevator ascended smoothly. Colton tried to keep his anger fresh in his mind—his rage toward Bernam for what he allowed to happen to his mother—but felt it wane in the presence of fear. Marius and Corva both looked so sure of themselves—so confident. Colton was sure he would feel a lot more so if only he could access part of his ability.

He tried again, reaching out with his mind into the space around him.

Nothing.

Colton didn’t stand a chance against Bernam nor anyone else that had even the slightest bit of power.

He was opening his mouth to tell the others that he should wait downstairs or go and help Haven and Dormer when the elevator stopped and the doors slid open amidst a hail of gunfire.

Marius shoved Corva to the side of the elevator as bullets sparked off the metal walls. She hit Colton and pulled him with her to the small area of safety at the front of the elevator next to the open door.

A bullet shot clean through Marius’s chest and he made a small noise, as if someone had just pinched him a little too hard. Another bullet hit his right leg and he dropped to the floor of the elevator.

Corva reached out and pulled him to the side as more bullets thunked into the back of the elevator.

“No…” she said. She moved her shaking hands over his body, afraid to touch his wounds.

“I’ll take him,” said Colton.

Corva gently leaned Marius against Colton’s shoulder. He was breathing slowly and his eyes were closed. Blood soaked through his shirt and spread from a dark hole below his collarbone.

She stood up and hugged the wall. Bullets continued to spray into the elevator.

“What are you doing?” shouted Colton.

Corva didn’t answer. She clenched her fists and stepped out into the open doorway.

The bullets stopped for a fraction of a second, as if the gunmen were surprised that one of their targets had so easily presented herself. Corva took a step forward and the gunfire resumed.

Colton risked peeking out of the doorway and saw orange light flooding the room—Corva must have saved some energy from Marius. It quickly faded and the sound of the gunfire grew louder.

Colton knew he had to do something.

He leaned Marius against the side of the elevator and hit the button for it to descend to the parking structure. Hopefully somebody would find him before it was too late.

Colton stepped out of the elevator as the doors closed and ran for cover.

The sixth floor was a single, open room with no windows. Dim lights lined the ceiling, casting a dull, bluish glow on the polished black floor. Tall structural pillars were spaced out evenly from wall to wall, and Colton dove behind one as bullets sank into the floor at his feet.

Corva was standing behind another pillar, pressing hard on a fresh gunshot wound in her left shoulder. Colton looked around the side of his pillar and saw three gunmen crouching near a huge machine on the far side of the room. Each of the men wore the same heavy armor and carried the same black automatic rifles as the guards Colton had seen on the second floor.

The machine was attached to the floor and the ceiling. Bulbous tubes connected to blocky metal containers, all of which led to a small, raised platform in the middle of the machine.

Standing on the platform, suspended in mid-air by massive restraints that engulfed his hands and feet, was Reece. He was either dead or unconscious, hanging lifelessly from his bindings. A pulse of light flowed over the tubes in the machine and fed down through the restraints. The light coursed over Reece’s skin and for a brief moment his eyes opened and he screamed. His body went rigid as the light passed over his legs and dissipated into the platform below his feet.

A quick burst of gunfire sprayed against the other side of Colton’s pillar and he pulled his head back.

After that, silence.

Someone started clapping, slowly and steadily.

“Well done,” said a voice.

It was Bernam.

Reece screamed again and Colton looked at the machine. Blue light slowly brightened within his ribcage and grew strong enough to outline the bones in his chest. Colton saw a dark, pulsing spot in Reece’s ribcage—his heart.

The light was pulled out from his torso, down his arms and legs, and into the restraints that bound him. The machine hummed loudly as lights flashed across every tube and metal container.

Bernam stood next to the machine, surrounded by the three guards. He admired it with the glossy eyes of a man who was watching his child use a fork to eat food for the first time. He clasped his hands in front of his mouth and smiled.

Shelly stood next to one of the nearby pillars. She looked frightened when she glanced over her shoulder at Alistair, who was standing in the shadows next to the machine. His face was shrouded in darkness, but Colton could tell that he was staring directly at him.

“Well done indeed,” said Bernam. He smoothed down the front of his slim, black suit and turned to face the elevator. “You can come out now. I won’t hurt you.”

Corva shook her head when Colton looked over.

“Okay, fine,” said Bernam, sounding bored. “I
will
hurt you. No reason to lie about it.” He waved at the guards. “Go and get them.” He turned his back and approached the machine.

The guards fanned out and moved quickly across the room, the barrels of their rifles trained on the pillars near the elevator.

One guard hugged the wall on either side of the room and the third walked right down the middle, sweeping his gun barrel back and forth around each pillar he passed.

The one walking toward Corva stepped around her pillar just as she shoved the heel of her palm into his throat. He coughed out all of his air and dropped his rifle, stumbling backward as he choked to take a breath. She moved forward to finish him off.

The guard in the middle raised his gun.

“Look out!” shouted Colton.

Corva turned around just as the guard fired two rounds. The first bullet hit the pillar next to Corva’s arm and tore off a chunk of material that went flying up into the air. The second bullet hit her in the shoulder and spun her down to the ground. The guard she hit in the throat stood over her and smacked her across the cheek with the back of his hand.

“Alive, if you please,” Bernam called loudly from across the room.

Colton stepped out from behind his pillar just as the last guard approached. The guard had let his rifle hang around its strap and instead held up his fists in a defensive stance. Brass knuckles glinted over the fingers of his dark gloves.

Colton kicked out, aiming for the guard’s knee, but a brass-knuckled fist shot down and knocked the leg aside. The guard took a step back, waiting. Colton lunged again—sloppy, he could feel it—and the guard deftly moved to the side as Colton’s momentum carried him forward.

The guard grabbed Colton’s outstretched arm and punched him twice in the side of his ribcage. He kicked the back of Colton’s knees to send him to the ground, then grabbed him by the hair and dragged him toward the machine. Colton tried to twist the guard’s wrist as he slid across the floor but the man was too strong.

The guard pulled Colton to his feet by his hair and shoved him forward, then pushed him down to his knees.

The other two guards dragged Corva’s body next to Colton and dropped her on the ground.

Bernam looked down at her for a long moment.

“I said
alive
.”

“She’s still breathing,” said one of the guards.

Bernam’s gaze moved to Colton. He frowned.

“I thought you would be dead by now,” he said. “You must be remarkably strong to survive so long without your ability.” Realization dawned on his face and he smiled. “Unless someone else gave you
theirs
.” He stood looking down at Colton. “Pity it takes so long to get used to a transfusion, or else you may have been able to help your friends.”

He walked over to Corva and used the tip of his shoe to tilt her face to the side.

“Pretty,” he said. “Am I to understand that she has actually found her counterpart?” He looked over at Alistair, who nodded. “The Russian, correct?”

Colton clenched his teeth and looked over at Reece, who still hung suspended from the machine.

“Oh!” said Bernam, following Colton’s gaze. “I almost forgot. Alistair, help him down, would you?”

Alistair stepped up to the platform and unstrapped the heavy bindings. Reece slumped down to the ground and groaned softly as Alistair dragged him to the floor.

Shelly ran over and knelt next to Reece, resting his head in her lap. She looked at Colton helplessly.

“Some friend,” said Bernam thoughtfully. “It took hardly any convincing to betray you, Colton. Ask him about it if he ever wakes up. He still hates your guts. Jealousy is an ugly, ugly thing. I tried to warn you.”