The other wall is a series of cells, like something out of a futuristic quarantine area. The doors are made of the same indestructible plastic as the one that deflected Nitro’s best weapon.
The guys take off, looking for prisoners. The first few cells are vacant, and as clean and sterile as the rest of the room. The fifth cell down is occupied. Not by Deacon, but by an older woman, probably my mom’s age, with fiery red hair.
She jumps to her feet and pounds on the door. It looks like she’s shouting at the top of her lungs, but the door is soundproof. I try to tell her that we’ll be back. From the frantic look she’s giving me, I’m not sure she understands.
I pass more unoccupied cells, then reach one that contains a young boy, no more than seven or eight, who is huddled in the corner, “Jeremy, we need to get these cells open now.”
“I can’t,” he replies.
“Not good enough,” Draven growls. “Try harder.”
“It’s not a matter of trying harder,” Jeremy explains. “There’s no external access. It’s a completely closed system. The release mechanism must be somewhere down there.”
“What am I looking for?” I ask.
“It could be any kind of panel,” he begins. “Keypad, card reader, biometric—oh shit. They’re in. I’ll meet you guys down there.”
I wince at the sound of an explosion and shouting, followed by Jeremy panting as he presumably flees the security room.
Dante has pulled ahead of Draven and Nitro. About halfway down the room he yells.
“Deacon!” He pounds against the glass.
The guys are at his side in a flash. I force myself to remain calm, to think clearly. Work the problem, Kenna.
I start looking for the access panel. Something, anything that looks like it might make these doors open. As I loop back to the first occupied cell, the redheaded woman gestures wildly. She’s pointing between her cell and the next. I move closer to examine the wall. There is an area, about four inches square, that has a more iridescent quality than the rest of the plastic.
I glance at the woman and she nods vigorously. She forms a rectangle with her fingers. A rectangle the size of a security badge.
I fumble in my pocket to pull out the stolen badge and then swipe it over the iridescent area. The whole front wall of her cell slides up.
“I’ve got it!” I shout. I turn to the woman. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” she insists, waving me away. “Go. Open the rest.”
I run, flicking the badge over the scanners on each cell, the woman following fast on my heels. When I pass a cell with a small, limp body collapsed on the floor, the woman steps inside. I keep going.
Seven occupied cells in all, and Deacon’s is the last. The guys are still beating on the door when I swipe the card. I’m overcome with emotion—pride, relief, joy—as Dante drops to his knees and cradles the moaning Deacon in his arms. Draven gives me a tight nod. No matter what happens from here on out, at least the twins have been reunited. At least we’ve done that much.
The rest of the cells are empty, and we’ve all congregated around Deacon when Jeremy bursts into the room.
“Half the hero army is on my ass!” he yells, waving a tablet he swiped from the security office. “They were hiding themselves, just like we were, so I wouldn’t know they were here. They must have known we were coming. We’ve got maybe sixty seconds before we’re trapped.”
I look wildly around the room. There is no other way out. If they catch us in here, we’re never leaving.
Chapter 27
I turn from Jeremy to face the rest of the team. Dante has Deacon cradled in his arms. He’s as close to lifeless as a living person can be. Draven is holding the young boy, Nitro is struggling to keep a massive villain upright, and the red-haired woman is carrying another unconscious prisoner—a girl about my age, with dark hair and ivory skin. The other two villains look pretty rough, but they’re upright.
We don’t have many options. This little parade won’t be able to move quickly. Certainly not fast enough to stay ahead of an entire hero army.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” I say, forcing confidence into my voice. “Jeremy is going to lead everyone out in the most direct path possible.”
“That’s crazy,” he says to me, pointing at the diagram on his stolen tablet. “There are dozens of soldiers between us and the exit.”
“I’ll take care of them.”
“No.” Draven closes the distance between us.
“It’s the only way,” I insist. “I’ll draw the heroes away so you can get everyone to safety.”
He shakes his head.
“They won’t hurt me.” At least I hope they won’t. “I’ll be fine. And you’ll be free to rescue Rebel and keep looking for my mom.”