With my sights set on the other side of the cell door, a groan bellows quietly, followed by a firing blast that reverberates through each one of my muscles. Life suddenly pauses, and everything around me is moving in slow motion as I try and glance back over to Axel and Everett.
It takes a long minute to evaluate what happened, but I spot a trail of blood dripping onto the cement floor, rolling off Everett’s shoulder. Axel shot him. "I never thought for even a moment I couldn't trust you. Never. All this time, you've been playing for the other side," Axel says through guttural pain and grief. "The plan wasn’t meant for this situation,” Axel says. "This fucking hurts, man. You were my friend, my only fucking friend. We may not have been blood brothers, but you were my only family. Jesus.” Axel sounds as if he’s on the verge of breaking down, and it’s tearing at my heart. Even being as unsure as I am, I know the sound of real internal pain, and a person can only fake that so much.
"Mason Phillips is my old man," Everett moans, gripping at his shoulder. "I let him down too. There was no winning. The only difference is, you’ll forgive me someday. He won’t.”
Axel has his knee on Everett's chest, and as the other men come within sight, Axel shifts his body, holding the gun up to them, with his hands still cuffed together. Three shots, each man receiving a bullet to the head. I don't know where Axel was trained, but he was trained well. "There are more of them," Everett rasps. "They'll find you."
"Why?" Axel asks him, placing the end of his weapon to Everett's head. Blood continues to spill out of his shoulder, and I'm watching as his face discolors with degrading shades of pale white.
"You were the experiment—both of you,” Everett says. "You were part of the research. I’m sorry. It wasn’t me, though. I didn’t want this.”
"What do you mean? I wasn’t part of the fucking research,” Axel argues.
"Yeah, you were,” Everett says with a groan. "Mason Phillips—my father, Agent Roberts, Chuck, and every other asshole you’ve dealt with—they’re all together with a private sector of the government. They needed this research and the related findings to conclude which method was best to hide their underground secrets. You’ve been helping them for years. You were told it was all about Isabelle, but she was only half of this. It was a fucking cock fight to see which interrogation tactic was stronger. Each of you were bred differently and taught with ulterior methods. Isabelle’s is the winning method, but you're mentally stronger than anyone gave you credit for, Ax. You don’t want to know how many mistakes you helped the government hide from the public.” Everett coughs, and I see the pain radiating through his face. "The bar fight … it was set up by Phillips. I made you sit where you were sitting because I was under his threatening orders. I went to the bathroom at the precise minute I was told to go, and that’s why you were the only one standing there after the fight was over. What was anyone supposed to believe?” Everett swallows hard, staring directly at Axel’s face with remorse. How can anyone forgive that kind of deception, though? I’ll be asking myself the same question for the rest of my life, I think.
For a minute, I see a weakness in Axel's eyes, but it doesn't last nearly as long as I thought it might. "You wanted to see the results from Darkest Perception?” Axel asks Everett. "Here it is—the plan we arranged if everything went to hell. The plan you came up with makes sense now. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself after all this either.”
"I’m sorry, Ax. I’m sorry. I’m fucked up because of my old man. He brainwashed me to believe what I was doing was right. It wasn’t. I know that now. I just wanted a normal life, and I wasn’t allowed to have that. I promise you, this isn’t what I wanted. I’m so sorry,” he cries out between gasping breaths. "Isabelle—”
"I’m sorry too—I’m sorry I was dumb enough to fall for this shit,” Axel says, cutting him off. Before he could finish his sentence, Axel releases the trigger, putting a hole through Everett's head. My breath lodges in my throat, and I'm not sure I know how to continue breathing while digesting the scene around me.
Axel drops the weapon and falls backward, hitting his back against the cell door. He leans his head down to his knees and runs his fingers through the sides of his hair. "He was my only family. For years, since we were teenagers. He was in foster care with me. Phillips put him there to find a soulless body? I’ve been a part of this damn freak show for probably ten years now.” Axel's words are mumbling together, and I can hardly understand what he's trying to say, ask, or who he's questioning.
As weak as I am from the sonic waves, I manage to push myself up to my knees and crawl across the space, reaching for Axel as I wrap my arms around his neck. "Axel." I have nothing to say. There are no words worthy of making a statement.
He reaches around me, sliding his hand into his pocket and pulling out the bobby pin he took from my hair. "Can you unlock the cuffs?" I pick the lock with an unsteady grip, so it takes me a couple of minutes to focus on what I'm doing, but I finally free the lock and remove the cuffs. "Let's go."
I take another look at Everett, trying to understand how my knowledge and assumptions went from a hundred to zero in a matter of minutes. I've done well, adjusting to situations faster than most people are capable of, but this feels like a heavy tar sinking through my bones, holding me still while I convince myself this is real. How the hell could any of this be real?
"I don't understand," I say to Everett. His chest stopped moving a long minute ago. I know he's gone, but I didn't think fast enough to ask him why, even though Axel did. Why us?
Axel pulls himself up against the bars and takes my arm. "Let's go."
The cell door was never locked after Everett entered. "What about Chuck?" I ask Axel.
"He told me to take care of myself when I took off to find you. He said people are placed into circumstances, unknowingly accepting a life sentence for something they never wanted,” he says. "I obviously don't know anything, though.”
"We're the same," I tell him. "I suppose you know that now."
We make our way into the alley, spotting a glow from the sun draping around the corner of the street.
Yeah, a life full of lies was what I was destined for. "This is why I was on the brink of being homeless."
"I spent my days looking for a place to sleep after I turned eighteen too," he says.
He seems dazed and out of it, probably like the way I'm feeling. I don't know how long it will take for my brain to process everything that went on in the last day, but right now, I'm in shock. So much shock. "Why did your parents do what they did? Do you know?”
"They were teenagers who tried to make it on their own. From what I heard, they had been arrested several times for dealing and abusing drugs. Child protective services threatened to take me from them many times, but they held it together just long enough so I could remember the life they gave me. They must have figured it was better to leave me with the memory of their deaths than trying to find me safety first.”
The chill of winter strikes me as if I didn't notice I was only wearing a thin dress. "What's your next move?" I ask him.
"What's yours?" he replies.
"Running." It's not like I have another option. This is all I've been doing for years. I just didn't realize I had been running in circles, and Dr. Phillips was the ringleader. "
Axel runs his fingers through his hair and then down the side of his face, touching dried spots of blood. He pulls his hand away, seeking evidence, then looks over at me. "If you didn't hate the shit out of me, I'd say I would run with you, but I'll assume that you won’t be giving me that type of invitation."
An immediate response floats to the tip of my tongue, but I keep my mouth closed, considering all things before I tell him my honest thoughts.