“All right?” said Benjy, appearing beside me. Now he carried a toddler in his other arm, and despite his brave face, I could see him wince with each step.
“Yeah—are you okay? I can take the baby,” I said, but he shook his head.
“You can barely walk in a straight line. I’ve got them.”
I remained glued to his side. As we grew closer to Mercer Manor, I drew the gun Scotia had given me, holding it in my uninjured hand. The silence seemed to echo warnings all around us, and my skin prickled as if I could sense someone watching us. With every step I took, I readied myself for an onslaught, but miraculously, nothing happened. Despite the tension in the air, no one attacked us. Scotia really had secured the section.
“All right,” said Rivers once we reached the street. “You have a clear shot. Go as fast as you can. Lila—up front. I need you to show them where to go.”
I joined him, Benjy still at my side. “There’s a tunnel in the cellar,” I said to the others. Dozens of faces stared at me, and the children’s weren’t the only ones that were tear-stained. “Once we reach it, go as quickly as you can. It’s several miles long, but it should let out in a safe place.”
“Should?” said Val.
“It’s our best chance. Unless you want to stay here.”
Her face grew pinched, and she shifted the baby in her arms, but she didn’t say anything more.
I led the way across the street and up to the gate of Mercer Manor. Half a dozen Blackcoats stood on either side of us, weapons at the ready in case someone attacked, and my heart was in my throat as Rivers opened the gate. I expected smoke and fire at any moment, but everything was unnervingly normal. The only sign that something was amiss was the unnatural quiet throughout the section, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something or someone was watching us.
The climb up the hill wore me down to the bone, but I pushed on, refusing to collapse no matter how badly my knees shook. I had to do this. This was their only chance at safety, and Scotia and the others wouldn’t be able to fight a real battle if they had to worry about protecting us, too. I had to do my job so they could do theirs.
At last I reached the porch, and I unlocked the keypad securing the front door with my necklace, not caring who saw. As soon as the lock clicked open, I pushed open the door and led them inside the foyer. Dozens of footsteps echoed in the marble hallway, and several people gasped as they saw the splendor that had stood here all this time while they were only a hundred feet away, trudging through snow and mud.
“This way,” I said, and I led them to the cellar door and down the creaky steps. Part of me expected to see Mercer in the workshop, waiting with knives in each hand, but it was empty. I flicked on the lights and hurried over to the opening in the wall. The wooden cupboard still lay smashed on the concrete floor, right where I’d left it, and I stepped around the pieces of wood before yanking the door open.
The tunnel was as dark as ever. I rooted around for the flashlight I’d left down there, sighing with relief when I found it. “Here—take this,” I said to a girl who looked to be about ten. “Hold the flashlight so everyone can see where they’re going.”
She nodded and tucked her dark hair behind her ears. Nervously she stepped inside, and one by one, the others followed. Several of the adults stopped to pick weapons from the racks lining the walls of the workshop, and I noticed that Rivers hadn’t joined us.
“We don’t have much time before the reinforcements come,” I said to Benjy as we stood together, watching everyone filter into the tunnel. They seemed to be moving as slowly as humanly possible, and I gritted my teeth impatiently. “If they attack Mercer Manor—”
“We have to trust that the Blackcoats will hold them off,” said Benjy. The baby had fallen asleep in the crook of his arm, and the little boy he held sucked his thumb as he stared at me with wide brown eyes. “There’s nothing more you can do, Kitty.”
“Yes, there is.” I clutched the gun in my good hand. “If anyone comes—”
“You’re not holding off an entire army with ten bullets and a bad shoulder,” he said, and he raised his voice. “Everyone, hurry up—we don’t have much time.”
The adults rushed the children through the tunnel, and at last the final group disappeared into the darkness. I looked at Benjy. “You first. I’ll bring up the rear.”
“Kitty—”
“I only have ten bullets, but that’s ten more than you.”
He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a curse, but he ducked into the tunnel, the concrete ceiling a few inches too short for his tall frame. Tucking the gun into my pocket, I pulled the door shut behind me.
We were far enough away from the front of the group that the light from the flashlight didn’t reach us. I groped around, wishing I’d thought to look for another one, when suddenly the tunnel shuddered, and a booming thud rattled me from the inside out.
Several children burst into tears, including the toddler in Benjy’s arms. He soothed the little boy as much as possible, but his shrill screams pounded against my temple, making white lights dance in front of me.
“You’re okay—you’re okay,” murmured Benjy, and as my eyes adjusted, I saw him rocking both baby and toddler with each step he took. “Everything’s all right, I promise.”
But it wasn’t all right. The deeper we went into the tunnel, the more the walls around us shook. Once we reached the end of the concrete, clumps of dirt dislodged with each new tremble, and my throat began to close. Benjy was right—we were all okay. We just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Suddenly a weak shadow appeared in front of me, and I stopped. The light bent around a curve in the tunnel we’d just passed, and it swayed in time with the shuffle of footsteps.
Without making a sound, I started back, slipping my gun from my pocket. If someone was following us, it would only be a matter of time before they caught up, and I was the group’s last defense. I’d already sent enough people to their deaths today. No one else was dying on my watch, not if I had anything to say about it.
“Kitty!” Benjy’s voice echoed back down the tunnel toward me, and I heard his footsteps mingle with the distant shuffle. “What are you doing?”
“There’s someone back there,” I whispered. “Go—catch up to the others. I’ll be right behind you.”
“I’m not leaving you,” he said, but even as he spoke, the baby in his arms whimpered.
“Yes, you are. I can’t protect all three of you, and they won’t make it without you,” I said. “Please, Benjy.”
“I’ll get one of the others to carry them,” he said, and his voice hitched. “If we hurry, we can catch them and—”
“And whoever’s following us will only get closer,” I said. “Please, Benjy. Go.”
Even in the low light, I could see the desperation in his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss me. “I swear, if you get yourself killed—”
“I won’t,” I said. “Not if I don’t have to worry about you.”
The baby in his arms began to cry again, and he winced. “I love you.”
“I know. I love you, too,” I said. “Now get out of here.”
He took one last long look at me before finally hurrying to catch up to the others. As his footsteps faded, I crouched in the darkness, my palms growing sweaty as I waited.
The light grew stronger until the narrow beam reflected off the wall beside me, leaving me in shadows. Something crackled, and a man’s voice murmured, “I hear something. Investigating now.”
I tensed. A guard. I flattened myself against the wall as he came around the curve, and as soon as he appeared, I pointed the barrel of my gun at him, my finger resting on the trigger.
He didn’t look much older than me—twenty at the most, with light brown hair and a narrow face with a gash runni
ng down his cheek. He wore a guard uniform—a dead giveaway, now that I knew Blackcoats like Rivers were wearing prisoner jumpsuits—and he limped through the tunnel, while his right arm was in a proper sling I would have killed for.
This was my chance.
He stopped suddenly when I came into view, and his eyes widened as he raised his good hand. “Don’t shoot, please—”
“Call them back,” I said. “Whoever you just spoke to—tell them you’re wrong. There’s no one else down here.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he slowly reached for the communication device on his shoulder. “Never mind, it was just a rat. All clear down here.”
Static burst from the device, and then a muffled voice said, “Angelo, confirm?”
Another voice said, “Guarding the entrance, sir.”
So he wasn’t alone. I held the gun steady, far enough away that he couldn’t make any sudden moves, but close enough not to miss. “Kick your weapon over,” I said. “No sudden moves, or I will put a bullet in you.”
The guard pulled his weapon from its holster and, holding it with two fingers so I could see he didn’t intend on using it, he set it on the ground and kicked it toward me.
“Do you have a tranquilizer gun?” I said, and he hesitated. “In sixty seconds, you’re going to be unconscious. If you ever want to wake up again, I would recommend giving me everything you have.”
With a frown, he reached inside a pouch and produced a handful of syringes. “This is it.”
“Good,” I said. “Kick them over, turn around, and strip.”
Reluctantly he did so, and slowly he undressed, mindful of his bad arm. I waited impatiently and glanced over my shoulder, sure I would see Benjy at any moment. But he didn’t come back. I couldn’t decide whether to feel relieved or hurt.
No—he was carrying two innocent children, and the other adults had their hands full, too. He was doing exactly what I’d told him to do and staying safe. I wasn’t about to get upset over that.
At last the guard stripped down to his underwear. “Kneel,” I said. “And toss your sling over here, too.”
“But—”
“Do you want a bullet in your brain, or do you want a nice nap?”
He grumbled but gingerly pulled the sling over his head. His arm was bandaged, and some blood seeped through the fabric. I felt a pang of guilt, but I was going to need this more than him.
Once he knelt on the dirt floor facing away from me, he put his good hand on the back of his head, and I finally dared to move. Picking up the nearest syringe, I uncapped it with my teeth and wasted no time crossing the distance between us. The needle was half an inch from his neck when he spoke.
“When I don’t come back, they’ll go looking for me,” he said. “You can’t hide down here forever.”
“Luckily for you, you’ll be asleep.” With that, I shoved the needle into his neck and pressed the plunger. He groaned, but a heartbeat later, he collapsed face-first into the dirt.
I waited several seconds to make sure his chest was rising and falling steadily before I picked up the sling he’d discarded. I tucked my arm safely inside it, along with the syringes he’d dropped. I stuck his other weapon in my pocket, but when I turned to rejoin Benjy and the others, I hesitated.
He was right. Others would come looking for this tunnel when he didn’t come back, and there was already someone guarding the entrance. If two guards had slipped through the Blackcoats’ defenses, there was no telling how many more would join them.
I took a deep breath. Benjy or the Blackcoats. My own chance at survival, or theirs.
Death is inevitable for all of us. The only thing that really matters in the end is how we choose to live.
From the moment I’d handed Scotia those codes, I’d made my decision. Being a coward wasn’t part of it.
I looked once more into the darkness and said a silent goodbye to Benjy. If I made it out of this alive, he was going to kill me.
With that, I picked up the guard’s flashlight and started back toward the entrance to the tunnel. If anyone tried to go after those kids, they were going to have to go through me first.
XVI
EXECUTION
Ten feet from the entrance to the tunnel, I crouched in the darkness and eyed the guard who stood amongst the shattered remnants of the cabinet. He, too, was young, and he kicked a piece of wood, holding his hands above his head in victory when it skittered to the other side of the room.
Before he could lower them, I crawled out of the tunnel and jammed a second needle in his neck. By the time he turned around and saw my face, the tranquilizer was already pumping through his veins.
“You...” His eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed.
I closed the door of the tunnel behind me. There was nothing I could do to hide the guard’s unconscious body, not when he had a good eighty pounds on me, but I could conceal the opening of the tunnel. Dragging one of the metal tables over to the corner, I shoved it against the wall and hastily scattered a few tools on the shining surface, doing my best to make it look used. It wasn’t the best hiding job in the world, especially not with the guard lying unconscious right in front of it. But with any luck, if anyone else came down here, it would buy Benjy and the others a few more minutes.
Once everything was done, I looked around the workshop. I had two guns now, along with enough tranquilizers hidden in my sling to take care of anyone stupid enough to get too close. If I stayed at the base of the stairs—
A scream echoed through the house, and I tensed. Hannah.
My feet were moving before I had the chance to think. Adrenaline shot through me, and I scrambled up the steps, making as little noise as possible.
The foyer was empty. Heavy silence settled over me, and seconds ticked by. Maybe I’d imagined it, or maybe it hadn’t been a scream at all. Or maybe Hannah was dead, and—
A muffled sob echoed down the grand staircase. Drawing my gun, I crept up along one side to the second floor, careful not to make a sound.
“Where is she?” Mercer’s voice cracked like a whip in the distance. “This is your last chance.”
“I don’t know,” sobbed Hannah. “I don’t know.”
“You do know—you know exactly what’s going on. You’ve known the whole time, haven’t you?”
“Of course not! How could you even think—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
The unmistakable sound of a slap echoed down the hallway, followed by silence. I tiptoed past Knox’s room. The door to the Augusta Suite was ajar, and I peeked inside.
Hannah sat at the foot of the pink-and-gold bed, her knees drawn to her chest as she quietly sobbed. This close, I could see half a dozen bloody gashes running across her face, and one of her eyes was swollen shut. Mercer stood over her, wielding a butcher’s knife.
Fury boiled inside my veins, and I gripped my gun. One shot. That was all it would take.
But as I raised the weapon, a shout echoed from the foyer, and a door slammed shut. “Mercer!” called a booming voice.
Mercer looked up, and I only barely managed to duck out of the doorway. “Up here,” he called, and added in a mutter, “This better be important.”
I darted into the second stairwell, the one that led to the back of the house, and crouched low. Heavy footsteps thudded against the carpeted hallway as someone came running, breathing heavily.
“Sir,” he said, his voice much closer now. I hid my head between my knees, praying he didn’t come down this way. “We have her.”
I frowned. They couldn’t have been talking about me, so who—
My breath caught in my throat.
Scotia.
“It’s about time,” said Mercer. “Watch my wife. If she tries to escape, kill her.”
I listened as Mercer strode down the hallway in the opposite direction, toward the foyer instead of the stairway where I was hiding. I waited until the front door opened and shut, and then, once I was as sure as I could be that Mercer was gone, I rose and crept back down the hall.
The door to the Augusta Suite was wide-open now, and a guard stood in the doorway facing Hannah, his feet planted a shoulder width apart as he clutched his rifle. I sneaked closer, my footsteps silent as I came up behind the guard and peeked into the room.
Hannah sat on the bed, and her feet brushed the carpet as she stared off into the distance, her expression unreadable. I didn’t wait for her to see me. Taking a third syringe, I stabbed the guard in the neck and dosed him. Once again, he fell to the ground, and I jumped over him.
“Are you okay?” I said, hurrying over to Hannah. She scrambled to her feet, her mouth hanging open.
“Lila—Kitty?” she said, stunned, and she wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. “It’s really you? Jonathan said—I thought you were dead.”
So they had been talking about Scotia. My determination turned to steel, and I hugged back before letting go. “I’m fine,” I said. “Are you okay?”
“It’s nothing. Just a few scratches.”
The slashes across her face were anything but scratches. I didn’t need to know much about medicine to know they would need stitches. “We need to get you someplace safe. Can you walk?”
“They know about the tunnel,” she said, and she bent down to pick up the guard’s rifle. “We were going to use it to escape, but Jonathan saw the smashed cabinet, and he thought there was an ambush waiting.”
“If you put on a jumpsuit, they won’t hurt you,” I said. “Come on, let’s get you downstairs.”
Using the back staircase, we slowly made our way down to the kitchen, where I fished my jumpsuit from the night before out of the trash. It was small on Hannah, but she managed to fit it over her clothes. “What about you?” she said.
“I’m not going with you.”