Raging Sea (Undertow, #2)

I dart through the double doors and into the hall as soldiers pop up in my way. I cause the pipes to burst on either side of them, and they fall over like chess pieces. I leap over their unconscious bodies and continue onward, racing up a flight of stairs to the cells, just like Doyle and I planned.

Bullets skitter on the floor near my feet. I turn and bring geysers up to destroy the flooring behind me. I watch several men topple into the massive hole I’ve created. That will buy me a little time.

“Lyric?”

I turn to see familiar faces. These are the parents of the children I’ve been training. They are filthy and bewildered but free from their cells; shorting out the system has released them. They take tentative steps into the hall.

“There’s a flight of steps behind that exit door!” I shout, pointing across the hall. “Take them up until you find the surface. Get as far away as you can. I want to help you all, but there are so many others to save. Run. Don’t stop!”

At the end of the hall is another door, and I slam through it to find another flight of steps. Once I reach the top, I’m in an identical situation as on the floor below—faced with dozens of scrawny, starving people who are afraid of what has happened. I tell them pretty much what I told the others, but this time a group of heavily armed soldiers storms into the hall. They open fire. People scream and fall to the ground. I see blood, but I can’t tell who it belongs to. The water in the pipes along the ceiling shouts to me, and I free it. It’s boiling hot and it burns the guards, but it avoids the prisoners completely. The soldiers scream, trying to get away from the attack. One hits the ground near me, and his rifle falls out of his hands. I snatch it off the floor and shove it into the hands of a tiny Asian woman who looks like she’s been locked up for years. I don’t stop to ask her if she knows how to use the weapon. If not, I hope she’s a fast learner.

I race onward, up another stairwell, into a hallway where I find the elevator. I also find Fathom blocking my way.

“Lyric Walker, whatever you are doing must stop,” he says.

I could stand here and let him try to explain why he’s done me wrong. I could give him a chance to persuade me that Spangler’s plans are good for us all, but I’m sort of sick of this kid’s face. I have never turned my power on another person the way I do Fathom. Water hits him from every side, like four tractor-trailers crashing through an intersection and he’s caught in the middle. It sends him crashing through the adjacent wall and out of my path.

I jam the elevator button, but nothing happens. I jam it again and notice the sensor pad. I’m so stupid! I need a passkey!

I use some water on the floor to help me pry the doors open and look down into the blackness of the elevator shaft. Up is no more inviting. There’s just no way I can climb it. I’m sure I’d fall to my death the second I tried. I’m going to have to get creative. I’m unsure how far the shaft goes down, but if there’s water at the bottom, I need it. I extend my hand into the void and bear down with my mind. What was it the preacher said about this valley? The mountains block the moisture. It’s the driest place in the country. Still, there has to be some, maybe down in the bedrock below us, hundreds of feet deep. I feel some wetness on my lip. The nosebleed has started, and I’m beginning to feel a dull headache from trying so hard. Things are getting a little fuzzy, and then—

We are here, Lyric.

“Come,” I whisper.

There’s a rumbling from far below, an explosion, and whoosh! I watch the liquid blast up through the shaft, filling the space and rising higher. My hand gets whipped upward from the gushing water. I’ve made my own elevator.

I have no idea why I hold my breath. Maybe it’s an old habit dying hard, but I do, and then I leap. The current rockets my body upward, higher and higher. My scales appear, and my gills take over for my lungs. The whole experience is . . . magical. I’m about to reach the very top floor, and with a sweep of my arm, the doors fly off. It’s pretty badass, if I do say so myself. They crash into the laboratory, and water spills onto the floor, flooding everything. Unfortunately, I go with it. It’s not the most elegant entrance. I flop around like a crab in a net, but it certainly gets everyone’s attention. Spangler’s science staff stands around me, gaping and dumbfounded. That is, until I stand, and they fall over themselves to get out of my way.

“How do you let them out of the tanks?” I shout. No one answers. I should have grabbed one of those nerds and forced them to help me.

“Lyric!”

I turn, half expecting Fathom, only to find Riley stepping out of my water elevator. He’s dripping wet, breathless, and his eyes are wild and troubled. He’s also got his weapon ready.

“Riley, please don’t try to stop me,” I beg. “I only have a little time to get this done.”

“Get what done? What is this place?” he asks, staring hard at the tanks.

“This is where they keep the Alpha parents,” I explain.