Darkening Chaos: Book Three of The Destroyer Trilogy Read online

  As soon as Milo finishes gagging our captive, he stands up and says, “You know you could have just shot him. It would have been easier and faster than going for the knife.”

  “He wasn’t expecting the knife. He would have shot you if he thought I was going to shoot,” I say. “I didn’t trust myself enough to try shooting him, anyway. I’ve trained with knives at school, not guns. I probably would have missed, and then he would have shot both of us.” It all sounds perfectly logical, but I drop my eyes and admit the biggest reason I didn’t try the gun. “Plus, I realized my safety was still on. Taking it off would have told him what I was about to do.”

  Milo just shakes his head and hands me back my gun. I flick the safety off this time, just in case. We decide to go right, the direction the Seeker came from. Either he was the only poor sap left out of the fun upstairs, or Dean and his team already got to any others. The rest of our hunt is uneventful. We reach the ridiculously thick doors of the final cell block—the ones pulsing out the talent-stealing interference—to find it already ajar. No sound immerges from the poorly lit room. Milo slips inside the narrow opening, takes three steps, and drops to his knees.

  Chapter 6

  Time to Choose

  I rush in behind him and stare at the empty cell to my right. “They aren’t here?”

  My hand sweeps across my forehead in frustration. Everything we did today, it was all pointless. They must have moved them right after Blackwood gave his ultimatum. “I can’t believe this,” I say, turning back to Milo. He’s not looking at me. His head is cradled in his hands, the Glock pressing into his temple painfully. Profound grief seeps through the interference. Only when I feel the subtle touch of his emotions do I realize his aren’t the only ones. My initial shock and dulled talents kept everyone else’s feelings from reaching my mind.

  Chills run up my spine as I let myself feel the terrible pain and anger of the others in the room with me. It’s then that I realize Milo isn’t staring at the first cell like I was. He’s looking straight ahead. My mind refuses to let me process the clues. All I can do is slowly force my body to turn. At first, I can’t see anything in the dim room. The cell looks empty, until I look down.

  Every part of me goes completely numb as I stare at the blackness of dozens of body bags lying on the floor. Every surface is covered with them, the floor, the beds, the benches. I don’t have to count them to know there are eighty-one. Casey’s lifelong friend Caroline is in one of those bags. Cole’s brother, Sam Vera, as well. My miniature renegade, he has been desperate to see his brother again, and now he never will. So many others I had gotten to know and consider friends over the summer have been wrapped up and stacked like forgotten Legos. They’re gone. They’re all gone.

  I don’t cry.

  I get very, very angry.

  Nobody stops me when I bolt from the room. The multi-colored walls flash by me in a red-tinged blur. Blood pounding through my veins colors everything I see with vengeance. I don’t bother with the elevator. My returning Speed carries me up the stairs faster than a machine ever could. The sound of the last door slamming open when I reach the lobby full of trapped Guardians echoes through the silent room. They don’t make a sound, but they all turn to stare at me. Daniel blinks in surprise at my sudden appearance. Red-faced, furious, hair blown loose by the speed of my running, and a look that I’m sure promises death, shocks every one of them into wide-eyed fear. The only one brave enough to speak is Blackwood.

  “Lose your way, little girl?” he says after seeing that I’m alone and not leading out the captured Ciphers.

  I’m in front of him a second later, my fist smashing into his pretty jaw. Startled gasps pop around the room. Even Blackwood looks surprised when he manages to look back up at me. He spits out blood and moves his jaw experimentally. I had every reason to hate him before seeing what I just saw, but Blackwood seems to realize that something has changed. I was fine leaving him pinned here like an ant in molasses before. Now, I want him dead. I want to feel his lifeblood pour over my fingers as I slit his throat. He can see it in my eyes and he shrinks back warily.

  “You killed them,” I say hoarsely. My fingernails cut into my palms as I glare at him.

  Blackwood’s fear deepens, making his voice crack when he speaks. “Killed who?”

  My fingers bite into his hair and yank his head back. He struggles to choke in another breath. Just a little more and I could snap it clean off. His Strength is no match for mine and he knows it.

  “Killed who?” he wheezes again.

  “The Ciphers,” I spit, “you killed them all, you miserable piece of-”

  “What?” Blackwood gasps. “What do you mean they’re all dead?”

  “Dead! Not breathing! Zipped up in body bags!” I scream at him. My hand grabs at his throat and squeezes. In the corner of my vision, I can see Daniel going pale and shaky. “You tricked me into coming here, promised me you’d let them live, and the whole time they’re already dead!”

  “No! They weren’t supposed to be dead.” He shakes his head. His panic is palpable, sour against my senses. “I … I never authorized killing them. Even after I killed you, I wasn't going to kill them. I just wanted you.”

  “You’re lying! You wanted them dead all along.”

  Blackwood quivers with fear. “No, no, I’m not lying. I could have used them.”

  A sound behind me snaps my head around. Milo stands at the edge of the room, his face a cold slate of fury. My fingers tighten around Blackwood’s neck as I see my own pain reflected back at me in Milo’s expression. I want to inflict our combined agony on him. Make him choke on it. Milo won’t stop me. His eyes narrow and I know he wants it, too. Daniel isn’t standing in my way, either. Trapped and defenseless, I don’t care. I want Blackwood dead. I start squeezing.

  The slimy feel of someone’s smug pleasure slithering across my skin makes me stop, makes me think. I look down at Blackwood. It isn’t coming from him. For the first time since barreling into the room, I open myself up to the emotions surrounding me. Fear drowns me instantly and I have to push it away to feel anything else. I focus on Blackwood specifically. Underneath the terror that he is about die, I can feel his honest assertion that he didn’t know the Ciphers were dead, playing over and over again like a desperate mantra. I search and scour, thrust my Perception into him for any sign of deceit. Nothing.

  My hand slips free of his already bruising neck. I feel Milo move up behind me. Daniel has moved next to me as well.

  “Did he do this?” Milo demands.

  The ferocity in Milo’s voice isn’t surprising. When I pause to recheck, just in case I missed some hint of a lie, I expect Milo to question me, maybe take over himself, but he waits impatiently for my verdict. “He’s telling the truth,” I say.

  “Somebody here ordered their deaths,” Milo hisses.

  Yes, someone did. “One of the Seekers,” I say.

  “I can’t tell which ones are which.” Milo’s frustration bristles around him. He is better than anyone I’ve ever met besides me at hiding his own emotions, a brute force blockade, but he still struggles with the more subtle side of Perception.

  I don’t have that same issue. Perception is my strongest talent. One sweep around the room and I’m able to identified every one of them, seventeen in all. I walk over to the nearest one and tap my Naturalism again. He yelps out in fear as his body starts sliding deeper into the marble. His wild eyes jump up to mine.

  “Who ordered the Ciphers to be killed, Seeker?”

  His eyes bug out as I reveal his secret profession.

  “That’s right,” I say more loudly than before, “I know exactly which ones of you are Seekers.” Every one of the Seekers starts sinking. “I’ll kill every last Seeker unless someone tells me who murdered the Ciphers.”

  My gaze stops on each sinking Seeker as I turn around the room. Milo’s finger twitches on the trigger of his handgun as he looks at each one. When I come full circle, my glare rests on the
still sinking Seeker I started with. “I’ll ask you one more time. Who gave the order?”

  His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Panic grips him so tightly I think it might strangle him before I get the chance. Again, that grotesque feeling of pleasure ripples across my skin. I forget the Seeker at my feet instantly and latch onto the floating emotion. My eyes close as I block out everything but this one singular feeling. I’ve never tried to trace an emotion back to someone before, but as I step blindly across the marble floor, I know I will have to practice this more often. The feeling lessens as I turn in the direction of its source. The Seeker has realized his mistake and is trying to hide his identity. Too bad for him I already know his emotional signature. I can find him now, whatever he’s feeling. My heels click to a stop right in front of him.

  I feel a rush of satisfaction when I open my eyes to his middle-aged, ghost white face. “You,” I say through my teeth, “you lead the Seekers here, don’t you? You’re the one that ordered the deaths of eighty-one of my friends.”

  He tries to deny it, and I slap him hard. His head whips back and rolls forward slowly. “They’re too dangerous to let live,” he says. “The chance that you would get to them was too high. We couldn’t let that happen.”

  The gun I forgot I was holding snaps up, muzzle pressed against his forehead. Daniel’s hand on my arm stops me from pulling the trigger.

  “Look,” he says, pointing back toward the elevators.

  The gun stays where it’s at, but I turn away from the Seeker. Dean and the two Canadian Ciphers stand at the back of the room, each one leading a member of Mr. Walters’ family. Terrified, but otherwise in good condition it would seem, Helen, her husband, and her daughter gape at the scene before them. Helen grabs for her husband and holds onto him like she never plans on letting go again. He looks just as shaken as she does. Only Helen’s daughter, Hope, looks more angry than frightened.

  I can’t believe they’re not dead. Maybe they’re not the only ones. I look at Dean, and ask, “Was there anyone else? Did you find Braden?”

  “No,” Dean says, “the rest of the cells were empty. Sorry, Libby.”

  The image of the dead Ciphers flashes back into my mind. Fear for what these monsters have done to Braden strangles me. I turn back to the head Seeker and slide the gun down to right between his eyes. “Where’s Braden?” I demand.

  A bead of sweat rolls down his face. “I haven’t a clue,” he says, “but I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I never trusted Blackwood’s plan would work.” He’s still scared enough to pee himself, but unquenchable malice keeps it from bubbling up into full hysteria. He even manages to twist his bleeding mouth into a smile as he says, “Braden was released this morning with explicit instructions to call in reinforcements if he didn’t hear from me by ten-fifteen. He was also instructed to hunt you down and kill you if you should happen to escape.”

  Oh, no, they’ve already gotten to him. My chest starts convulsing as I try to breathe. The air just won’t cooperate. I thought for sure I would get here in time to stop them from breaking him. He can’t be lost to me. He can’t. The gun trembles against the Seekers skin. Sweat breaks out all over his forehead, but he still laughs. My finger fumbles at the trigger. This pig deserves to die.

  “Libby,” Daniel says anxiously, “it’s ten-thirty. If Braden really did call for reinforcements, they could be here any minute. We’ve got to get out of here. There’s nothing else we can do.”

  “We can kill them.” If I had any strength left after what the Seeker said, he’d already be dead. I’m not sure I can even pull the trigger, I’m shaking so badly.

  I see the way Milo’s hands tighten into fists. He wants me to do it. So many of our friends are dead because of them. The thought of having to tell Casey and Cole that no one is coming back with us makes me sick. I don’t know if I can bear telling them. Eighty-one families will have to be told that the people they already lost once to the Guardians are now lost forever. I want to see them pay for what they’ve done.

  “Libby,” Daniel says softly. “If you kill them, the Guardians will call it murder. They’ll come after you and no one will be able to stop them from broadcasting your execution worldwide.”

  Milo’s anger spikes next to me at Daniel’s words. “Every Guardian in this compound is responsible for what happened, but this man ordered it! We’re not leaving him alive!”

  “We already broke into their compound and assaulted them. Aren’t they going to come after me anyway?” I tell Daniel, more inclined to side with Milo. What’s one more log on the fire at this point?

  Daniel’s hand reaches over and wraps around mine. He slips the gun from my shaky grip in one smooth motion, making Milo even more furious. “Nobody knows about the Ciphers being freed, Libby. The Guardians are hiding it. They don’t want to answer questions about why they were holding them in the first place and what they have been doing to them. They won’t publicize us breaking into a compound that’s supposed to be impenetrable, either. But if you slaughter an entire compound, they won’t keep that secret. You say your destiny is a choice. Well, it’s time to choose. We can kill them and beat out all our anger on them, but what are the chances any of us will live long enough to see the rest of them come down?”

  My arm falls to my side in defeat. Milo’s body clenches in frustration next to me. “Don’t leave these monsters here to come back and murder more innocent people!” Milo shouts.

  “You really want me to kill them all?” I ask, surprised by his reaction, but sure Daniel is right about this.

  “At least this one,” Milo growls, pointing at the Seeker in front of us. The Seeker tries to remain calm, but Milo’s livid expression makes him tremble. “One life for the eighty-one he took. I think that’s more than fair.”

  Milo’s body twitches, the gun in his hand rising, then falling, begging to be used. I agree with Daniel’s argument, no matter how much I wish I didn’t, but seeing Milo so agitated convinces me even more. It makes me sick to turn away from the Seeker without making him pay for what he’s done, but if we don’t leave now we may end up having to fight our way out.

  “Daniel’s right,” I say to Milo, “let’s get out of here.”

  Dead-eyed anger more intense than anything I have ever seen before blasts through Milo’s expression. “I won’t leave him here to kill anyone else.”

  Milo doesn’t move fast. His gun arm lifts with careful precision to meet the Seeker’s head. The shot echoes through the room, leaving gun smoke and silence in its wake. The stench of spent gunpowder burns through my sinuses. My eyes water, but not from the smell. I stare at the Seeker as his body slumps to its awkward, final position. The trickle of blood that runs down the side of his face steals the last ounce of my strength.

  Milo stalks past me without a word.

  I try to follow, but I am too stunned to manage it. Daniel is the one who turns me away from the dead Seeker and drags me toward the front doors as the sound of helicopters fill the air. That gets everyone jumping. Dean ushers Helen and her family through the mess of Guardians and Seekers and pushes them out the doors. Milo turns back and grabs me from Daniel when he realizes I’m not moving fast enough. I shy away, but he yanks me toward his car. He only makes it a few steps before I pull my hand out of his and turn back to the lobby. Every eye in the room is fixed on me. Panic seizes them as I tap my Naturalism one more time and set them sinking. I spin away and rush past Milo down the steps. I have no intention of killing them all. I just hope they won’t be fast enough to stop the dead Seeker’s body from disappearing and taking along with it any evidence of Milo’s actions.

  Chapter 7

  Angry Hope

  Milo shoves me into the Bronco as helicopters start dropping onto the grass around the compound. I pull away from him reflexively. Guardians dash out in a mad rush toward their brothers, but we’re already driving away. The air rages with the noise of the mach
ines. Milo keeps looking behind us as we pull away, but I know we’re safe for now. When I loosened up the marble again, I didn’t let it go fast enough to completely cover everyone. In my head I’ve been keeping track of the time and the speed of the Guardian reinforcements. Most of the trapped Guardians should be up to their necks by now, and the dead Seeker buried.

  I let go of my Naturalism.

  I can almost hear the crack of the marble hardening so quickly. The rest will live, but getting them out isn’t going to be easy. It’s going to be a very long and painful rescue. That should give me some satisfaction, but really, it’s still more than they deserve. This isn’t the last time we’ll meet. I feel no pity for the dead Seeker, either, only shock that Milo took his life. I wanted to very badly. Maybe I would have if Daniel hadn’t stopped me. What haunts me is the look in Milo’s eye when he pulled the trigger. The coldness I felt in that fraction of a second scared me. A warning from Lance, what feels like forever ago, that Milo was dangerous, echoes in my mind as we drive.

  I push thoughts like that away and focus on the one positive aspect of today. At least we got Helen and her family out. Of course, that has its own set of problems. She doesn’t know what happened to her dad, yet. I’m just glad Dean pushed them into his Nissan Xterra, because I don’t think I can face them right now. I don’t think I can face anyone.

  How am I ever going to tell the others that we didn’t save the Ciphers? All my brilliant planning and I failed. I wasn’t fast enough to save our friends. Dean had to be the one to think about checking the other cells after I ran out. And Braden, I was too late to keep them from hurting him. I have failed him in so many ways. It all becomes too much. My shoulders start shaking first, and then the tears start falling. Misery fills me until I am choking on it, crying and struggling for breath. Every tear is another regret, another mistake that led me here. I’m not going to save anyone. I can’t. I try, but every time, all I end up doing is making things worse.