The fluorescent lights in the corridor gave an eerie blue glow to the black-clad metasoldiers standing guard outside a room at the end of the hall to the left. Meg would have known exactly where her enemy was even if the hall was black-hole dark. She ran full speed toward them, her anger giving her wings.
The soldiers awaiting orders from either Laz or Dr. Williams turned in time to see M57 fly in a blackened-blur toward them. Her long, dark curls were pulled back from her pale, stoic face. Her movements were so rapid. The only real attribute the soldiers had time to take notice of was her large, dark eyes flashing with fury.
Both men were staring, slack-jawed at the woman, mesmerized by not just her beauty, but by something else entirely. The soldier to the left regained his composure first and was reaching for his gun.
Meg felt a burst of calm, calculated rage as she moved with pure instinct. Her hands were locked in iron fists and held up defensively by her face. She flew at the soldier and delivered a perfectly formed side kick to his throat with the blade of her boot.
Crack!
A distinctive crunching sound emanated from his throat as his huge body flung back against the cement wall behind him, and hit with a sickening thwack.
His windpipe was crushed.
Without hesitation, Meg charged the second soldier. She leaped into the air, wrapped her arms around his thick head and slammed his nose into her knee. With him doubled over, Meg used her sharp elbow to pound him to the ground. He lay silent under her boot one second later.
Still crouching above him, she assessed the scene.
The knife she brought to this gunfight was still in her back waistband, clean and unused.
She stood slowly, watching with venom as the soldiers’ still warm bodies held silent in death, and felt nothing for them.
All Meg could think about was her brother.
She yanked the guns from each of the downed soldiers, moved the knife to her boot and slipped one of the guns into her waistband. The other she aimed and fired directly at the handle of the door the metasoldiers had been guarding.
Pop, pop, pop!
With one powerful kick, the door flew open and she burst into the room, gun raised, itching for more blood.
The scene before her stopped her dead in her tracks.
“Drop your weapon,” a male voice barked at her.
“Meg?” Alik’s voice was weak, but audible, even through the pillowcase wrapped over his head.
Her little brother was held by three metasoldiers, and one was holding a gun directly to his temple.
Alik was strapped to the wall. His wrists were tied to thick metal loops drilled directly into the cement wall on either side of him. The first thought that smacked Meg across her emotional face was that he looked crucified to the mint-green wall.
The scene was horrific.
Two other soldiers were in the room standing on either side of Alik, both of which had their semiautomatics aimed at her body.
“I said, drop your weapons, M57!” the soldier with the gun to her brother’s head screamed, spittle dangling from his lips.
Fury wrapped around Meg’s heart.
Oh hell no! She was not going to let them do this to her brother. Meg hesitated, but didn’t lower her gun from the soldier who dared threaten Alik.
The thick muscles of her little brother’s chest were exposed as he’d been stripped of his shirt. It hung in tatters hanging around his waist, still partially caught in his waistband. The dark bruises already forming across his torso made it clear what they’d been doing to him in her absence.
The rage-yell that escaped her lips was guttural, primal.
“No!”
“Meg, get out of here,” her brother gasped from beneath the cloth. She could see the material move with his breaths. Her heart screamed in anguish, but she forced her voice to stay calm.
“Release my brother and I’ll let you live,” she heard herself growl.
The malevolent smirks on the faces of the three sealed their fate.
Meg made her move.
Chapter 3 Let the Melee Begin
“Where’s Gavil?” Evan asked as he stared at the dark, sticky blood on Creed’s hands.
Creed followed the young meta’s eyes to his hands and stared at them as though they belonged to someone else. He swallowed hard.
Farrow answered for him. “He was killed.”
“Oh, God, no!” Evan breathed watching Creed lock his jaw angrily.
Knowing she needed to change the subject, Farrow turned to Creed and asked pointedly, “What’s the plan?”
The soldier blinked hard before looking up at the two metas in his charge.
“We need to cut out Williams’ eyes. He has cameras everywhere. Any ideas?” Creed asked Farrow and Evan.
The three stood silently against the cold brick of the Research Hospital, trying desperately to devise a plan to rescue Meg and Alik.
Evan shook aside his sadness at the loss of an ally and forced himself back into the deep thoughts he’d been frantically searching through since he last spoke to his mother. “The electric breakers,” he snapped, looking up with still glassy eyes.