He frowned. “They’re idiots if they do, but in all the years that I’ve known them, they’ve never let someone walk out the door. Something had to have happened. Something big to draw their attention away from us.”

After several twists and turns, we raced down another hallway. How Erik knew where we were going was a mystery to me. All the hallways looked the same. Silver, nondescript. Ominous.

“The computer should be shouting our identities and what sector we’ve breached,” he said, “but the ID scans are off.” He sounded confused. “Why would they turn the ID scans off?”

He wasn’t speaking to me, I knew, so I didn’t bother trying to answer.

Each time we came to a small, black box on the wall, he popped open the top and jerked out some of the wires. “That should keep some of the agents from following us, if they ever get their asses in gear.”

A door slid open at the far end of the hall and two agents appeared. They’d gotten their asses in gear, I guess. They pounded toward us, guns raised. But there was surprise in their eyes, as if they hadn’t expected to see us.

Erik shoved me to the side and rushed them. I stumbled and hit the wall with a yelp, watching as he ducked and kicked out his leg, knocking the agents together before they could squeeze off a shot. One fell on his side and dropped his gun. The other fell but maintained a strong grip and finally fired.

A yellow stream of fire slammed into the wall, just above Erik’s ear.

Erik jumped on top of the man and the two rolled on the ground, punching each other. Only then did the weapon skid a few feet away. Both men were fluid and lethal with every blow, going for the groin, the trachea. But they were both good at blocking, as well.

Should I try and help? Or would I hinder?

No time to think about that now.

I watched, wide-eyed, as the second gunman rose and shook his head to clear the dizziness. He scowled as he searched for his weapon. Adrenaline rushed through me, giving me strength, and I sprinted forward. Yesterday I would have run in the opposite direction. Anything to avoid danger.

Today I ran toward it, wanting to protect Erik the way he’d protected me.

The agent beat me to the gun, but his attention was focused on Erik as he aimed.

“No!” I shouted, drawing his gaze.

He swung at me and I ducked the way I’d seen Erik duck. I kicked out my leg, trying to trip him. Unfortunately the guy didn’t topple as he’d done for Erik. He did waver, though, and that gave me the opportunity I needed to throw myself at him. We flew backward. He twisted us midair so that I took the brunt of the fall. On impact, I sputtered and gasped for air.

The guy rose to his knees and aimed the gun at my chest. My mouth dried in fear but I didn’t stop fighting. I hadn’t escaped my cell to die here. Acting instinctively, I jabbed my fist up and into his nose, rolling as I did it in case he fired.

He hissed and did, indeed, fire.

The beam nearly hit my shoulder, but ended up singing the ends of my hair instead. An ashy, sickening scent filled the air; I struggled to my feet. A second later, the guy screamed. Erik was there, right behind him, kicking him in the stomach and knocking him down.

Only when the guy was writhing in pain and holding his side did Erik grab the gun. He tugged me to my feet. “If he follows us…” I said.

“He won’t. Kidney shot. Gets them every time,” he told me. Then, to the man, he said, “Where’re your friends?” He aimed the gun, barrel pointed at his heart.

“Morevvs,” the agent said through clenched teeth. “They’ve attacked the outside of the building.”

Silver, I thought, wide-eyed. How had he known we were here? Erik and I shared a glance. “Tracking device,” he said, answering my unspoken question.

Invisible explosives. Tracking devices. There was a world around me that I’d never known existed. Until today, I hadn’t cared.

Several more agents appeared at the end of the hall, but Erik quickly fired the pyre-gun, making them dive for cover. We took off in a dead run.

When we reached the end of the hallway, he disabled the ID box, once again twisting the wires and fusing them back together in different locations. “Most criminals don’t know how vulnerable A.I.R. is because of their ID system,” he explained. “It’s a well-guarded secret and was one of the first things we learned at training camp, so we’d be prepared if we were ever locked out because of it.” As he spoke, he jumped up and pounded at the ceiling.

“Keep watch,” he told me and handed me the gun. “If anyone comes toward us, fire first and ask questions later.”

My hand shook, but I aimed down the empty hallway. Waiting. Waiting. Thankfully, no one came. But I did hear them pounding against the metal door. Heard a motor of some sort, as if they were trying to saw their way through.

“If I open the door, we’ll be faced with about one hundred armed and pissed agents,” Erik said. He continued to beat at the ceiling, bits of plaster falling at our feet. “So we’re going to move through the vents.”

“Vents?” Tiny, confined spaces, trapping us like rabbits? Don’t panic, don’t panic.

“Well, they aren’t really vents. They were put here in case agents needed to evacuate without going out the front or back doors.”

After he’d pounded a large enough hole for us to crawl through, he jumped and grabbed the edge, then hoisted himself up. He reached down, took the gun, and offered me a hand.

Using my uninjured arm, I reached up. My fingers intertwined with his, and he hefted me beside him. “Thank you,” I said, the words echoing. Trepidation consumed me. The space was small, tight. Dark. “Won’t they know where we are when they see the hole?”

“By the time they get here, it’ll be too late. Now stay behind me, okay? And stay quiet.”

I nodded.

He crawled forward and I remained close behind him. My knees were raw and I wished to God I’d worn pants instead of a skirt. The vents seemed to get smaller and darker the higher we climbed. At least there was a breeze of cool air so I didn’t feel confined or trapped. Still, my legs and arms began to burn from exertion.

Below me, I could hear footsteps pounding and agents yelling at each other. The alarm had quieted, thankfully, so that no longer echoed inside my mind.

What seemed an eternity later, Erik stopped. He held up his hand for silence—as if I would have dared speak or even breathe—and listened. My eyes finally adjusted to the dark and I could see his profile, hazy though it was. Strong nose. Shadowed beard stubble, and a firm jaw, clenched as he concentrated.




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