“Find someone with Level Three clearance—Dr. Atkins or someone who works on the EVE project. Then you can blow up the entire fleet . . . the entire facility,” she explained. “They’ll lose everything. They’ll never be able to duplicate the technology.”
For now, all she could guarantee was that the building would be clear, giving us at least a chance to save the planet.
“I’ll stay here and lock the lab down,” she’d told us. “You get to the Basement. That’s where you’ll find the ships.”
Then she handed us her key card and gave us her access codes. Once she was locked inside, I turned to ask where she wanted us to meet her, when she nodded to us once from behind the glass door—a Farewell or Good luck, or maybe it was an I’m sorry—right before she plunged the tip of the needle into her arm.
I wanted to tell her to stop, but it was already done and the words died on my lips.
She collapsed.
I stood there stunned, waiting for something to change. To realize I’d seen wrong. But then she exhaled, a shuddery breath, and foam escaped her lips which were already turning blue.
I heard Kyra inside my head, and even though I could feel her shock as well, she was right. We needed to go. To get Adam out of here.
Back home.
SIMON
I WAS DAYDREAMING ABOUT ALL THE WAYS I COULD snap Molly’s neck when the sirens started. There was nothing subtle about what we were hearing.
An automated voice began repeating, “Attention! Attention! There has been the report of an emergency. All personnel are to evacuate immediately. Please remain calm.”
Each looped message was followed by a jarring siren that would penetrate the most effective earplugs, while red lights flashed continuously up and down the hallways.
Willow flashed me a think-that’s-about-us? look.
Suddenly all I could think of was Kyra. I needed to find her, before it was too late.
The sirens were annoying, but I might be able to use them to my advantage.
I started to call Molly’s name to create a distraction, but Willow, apparently, was already two moves ahead of me.
“Hey bitch!” she shouted before I had the chance, and at the same time she shouldered me out of her way.
When Molly jerked her head just the barest amount in Willow’s direction, Willow swung as hard as she could. Her fist slammed into Molly’s cheek—hard, but not quite hard enough. Molly staggered but managed, somehow, to keep her grip on the gun.
She was just getting her balance again, when the fire extinguisher struck her near the base of her skull. I heard the hard whack above the shrill sirens, and even I was revolted by the sound.
Ben stood triumphantly, holding the red canister while the rest of us watched to see what would happen.
For a moment it looked like Molly was going to stay on her feet, but then she swayed. And after another second the gun dropped sluggishly from her hand as her eyes rolled back in her head. Then her entire body just went . . . limp, and she dropped to the floor.
It wasn’t until I glanced at Jett and saw his face go ashen that I realized something was wrong.
“Damn,” Jett breathed, and then he pointed to the blood that was pooling on the tile floor . . . blood seeping from the wound at the back of Molly’s head. “She’s a Returned . . .”
I glanced to Ben, who wasn’t like us. Who should never have been exposed to Molly’s, or any of our, blood.
“Aw, hell.” I dropped to my knees and tried to wipe it away, mopping the blood with my hands and Molly’s own hair . . . anything that might stop it from going airborne.
But we all knew it was too late. Whatever toxins Molly carried—whatever Code Red he was going to be exposed to—it was already out there.
“None of that matters,” Ben said, reaching down and scooping up her gun. “All that matters is we can fix this mess. That we save the Earth from being attacked. I don’t care what happens to me.”
You will, I thought, remembering the way Tyler had looked after he’d been exposed . . . when his skin had blistered and peeled, and later, when he’d gone blind. You just don’t realize it yet.
CHAPTER TWENTY
WE USED DR. CLARKE’S KEY CARD TO GO straight to the place she’d called the Basement. The floor had been cleared—not a single soul in sight.
What we found instead was beyond imagination.
When we’d been told there was a fleet, I’d imagined ten, maybe fifteen spaceships like the EVE.
But what we faced was nothing less than an entire squadron . . . hundreds of ships. No wonder the M’alue believed we were preparing for a war.
“Why would they build so many, without even knowing how to power them?” I asked.
Tyler shrugged. “I guess they were confident they’d find the solution.” He gave me a sidelong look. “If not a Replaced, then some other way.” He lifted his head. “Someone’s coming.”