Awakening (TalentBorn Book 1)

by C. S. Churton

  Despair hits me like a physical force as Scott’s shoulders hunch in defeat and he ejects the clip from the gun, then raises his hands for Megan to disarm him. Gardiner nods in satisfaction and Megan steps forward, closing her hand around the weapon. I stare at her with undisguised hatred: to think we threw away our freedom for her. Scott swings an elbow into her face, catching both her and me off guard. Before I have time to even consider what I should do, she barrels at him, blood streaming from her nose, and lands a solid kick to his midriff. He staggers back and crashes into the solid oak desk, groping the edge for support – or, at least, that’s what I thought. His fingers, hidden from everyone else in the room, are edging closer to a button under the desk. I don’t know what it does, but I know he’s going to need a distraction while he finds it.

  “Get away from him!” I scream, and throw myself at Megan, self-defence lessons forgotten. My punch sails harmlessly past her face and she slams a fist with contemptuous ease into my stomach. I double over, winded and reeling from the force of her punch, and she levels her gun at me.

  “Alright, alright!” Scott says, raising his hands and shooting me a look. Whatever he needed to do, it’s done. I hope it was worth it. Jesus, Megan packs a punch. Wheezing, I mimic his gesture and show my empty palms.

  “I hope we shall not have to endure any more ill-conceived escape attempts,” Gardiner says. His voice is dripping with disapproval and he’s looking at us both in distaste. Scott shakes his head.

  “Good. There’s no need for any harm to come to either of you.”

  I seethe silently at the blatant lie. I saw the machinery in his basement.

  “I won’t give you any more trouble. Just don’t hurt Anna.”

  “How very gallant. You have my word. Daniel.” He glances at one of his bodyguards. “Cuff him.”

  Daniel lowers his gun and produces a pair of handcuffs. Scott’s face is a blank slate as the man advances on him warily and takes hold of his wrist. Resigned, Scott allows him to snap the cuff around it, and pull it behind his back, where it’s locked to his other wrist. And just like that, the last trace of hope is gone. Daniel grunts in satisfaction and steps back.

  Across the room, the office door slams inward, and we all spin round in alarm. Joe stands outlined in the doorway, weapon raised and sweeping amongst us. Gardiner looks from him to Scott and his eyes narrow. Realisation strikes me at the same moment.

  “I heard the panic alarm,” Joe says, confirming what we were all thinking. Scott’s plan was both brilliant and reckless: a proper Hail Mary. The question is, can we trust Joe, or does his loyalty to Gardiner run too deep?

  “Thank you, Joe,” Gardiner says calmly. “We have everything in hand. Unfortunately, two of your former colleagues have gone dark, but I think we can handle it from here.”

  “Yes, sir,” Joe says, eyeing the pair of us uneasily.

  “He’s lying,” I tell Joe. “Listen to me.” I run my mind over everything – Pearce injecting me, the basement, my escape. I show him me and Scott running, and our near misses with AbGen.

  “No,” Joe shakes his head. “You’re lying. You think I can’t tell the difference?”

  “Then listen to him,” Scott says. “Tell him, Gardiner. Tell him about your little prison cells.”

  A shadow passes behind Gardiner’s eyes as he works to keep his face impassive, but it’s not his face Joe is reading.

  “Tell him about how you like to torture girls in the name of patriotic duty,” Scott demands. “Tell him that everything he’s worked for is a lie.”

  “Enough!” Joe snaps, stalking across the room. He raises his gun and smashes it down into Scott’s face.

  “No!” I scream as Scott hits the ground, launching myself forwards – to do what, I don’t know.

  “Anna, don’t,” Scott grunts.

  I stop, looking to him uncertainly. He’s mouthing something at me. I can’t make it out. Can’t? Keep? Key!

  Key? What does that mean? And then I see it: the small silver object that he’s curled around. Joe gave him a key; he’s on our side. Then I realise his problem. He can’t use it with everyone watching him.

  “Please,” I say, taking a step toward Gardiner, and every gun in the room follows me. “Don’t hurt him, I’ll do whatever you want, I promise. Just let him go.”

  “Very touching, Anna. But I think we’re beyond that now. Daniel, please take Scott downstairs. I don’t think we require his presence at the moment.”

  The guard reaches down to pull Scott to his feet and my heart pounds frantically. I can only hope he had enough time to use the key. If they put him in the basement neither of us is ever getting out of here.

  It happens so quickly that his movements are a blur: one moment Daniel is towering over him, the next he’s on the floor, writhing in pain. The sound of the gunshot doesn’t reach my ears right away, and when it does, Scott is already on his feet, swinging the smoking gun to target the other bodyguard, cuffs hanging from one wrist.

  Behind him, Megan lifts her gun in slow motion and I throw myself at her in normal time. We collide with a solid thud that knocks the breath out of us both, and then we’re on the floor, grappling for the weapon. She’s stronger than me; there’s no way I can wrestle it from her hands. My self-defence classes belatedly come flooding back to me, and I swing my elbow into her face, and again. I feel something crunch – her or me, I don’t know. I hit her again and this time I can’t hear anything above the pounding in my ears. My fury at all the betrayals – hers, Pearce’s, Gardiner’s – breaks through to the surface and I keep swinging. She was going to kill him. She’s not going to kill him.

  “Anna! Anna, stop!” Scott’s shouts break through and I freeze mid-swing, staring at my bloodied hand as the red mist fades, and then beyond to Megan’s unconscious form.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nod shakily and look around. Joe is guarding the door, Gardiner is watching us warily, and Daniel is deathly still and silent. The other guard, Marcus, is on his knees, with his hands interlocked behind his head and gun discarded on the floor beside him. I can’t bring myself to feel sorry for either of them: they would happily have chucked me in that cage under Gardiner’s orders.

  I snatch up Megan’s gun and get to my feet.

  “What now?”

  “Now we’re leaving.”

  He keeps his gun on the kneeling guard and advances on him.

  “Take it easy,” the man says, eyeing Scott warily. “I was just following orders.”

  Scott removes the remaining cuff from his wrist in stony silence, apparently as unimpressed by that defence as I am. Without hesitation, he snaps it around the man’s wrist. The guard twists suddenly, sweeping out with a leg and sending Scott crashing to the floor before I can even utter a warning. The guard is on him in a flash, grabbing his gun hand and slamming it repeatedly into the floor. The gun flies across the room, and the guard lifts his boot and smashes it down onto Scott’s hand. I hear the bones break with a sickening crunch that seems to echo around the room. I stare at the heavy metal weapon in my hands and start to lift it, but then Scott is on his feet, his right hand hanging limp by his side, slamming his forehead into the guard’s face. The man crumples to the floor immediately and goes still. Whether he’s unconscious or just dazed, I don’t know.

  I see movement out of the corner of my eye and turn on my heel. The gun comes with me and I find myself pointing it at Gardiner. He freezes, and the room falls utterly silent. Even Gardiner has no words.

  “Do it,” Scott says quietly. “It’s the only way you’ll ever be free.”

  He’s right. I can pull the trigger right now and end all of it. Or we can spend the rest of our lives running. More people will be locked away and tortured. Gardiner will keep corrupting absas. It’s the right choice. The only choice. My finger doesn’t move. My vision blurs and I’m angrily blinking back tears and my finger still doesn’t move. I shake my head and my hands tremble. A sob of frustration escapes from m
y throat. I’ll never be free.

  A shot rings out and I jump, staring at my gun in horror. No, it wasn’t mine. My finger is still wrapped loosely around the trigger. Even as Gardiner slides to the floor I look across at Joe and see the telltale wisp of smoke leaking from his barrel.

  “Now you’re free,” he says softly, lowering the weapon.

  A hand closes around my gun and I jump. Scott’s. It’s Scott’s hand. Gently he tugs the weapon from my grasp and keeps hold of it in his left hand. His right is still hanging uselessly beside him. He says nothing to me but looks at our saviour.

  “You need to get out of here.”

  “I think that’s my line,” Joe says, with the ghost of a smile.

  “You think he’s going to let me take the fall for this?” Scott says with a meaningful nod at the downed guard, who is watching the exchange in silence. “Get your family and go. I’m sorry we dragged you into this.”

  Joe shakes his head, his lips pressed together in a stubborn line.

  “Not everyone here is corrupt. I have to stay, I’m the only one who can weed out the rest of them. Get her out of here. I’ll make sure you don’t have to run forever.” He makes eye contact with me as he says this last part, and I nod, unable to speak. “Get out of here. Find the Ishmaelians.”

  Scott clasps him on the shoulder.

  “Thank you.”

  With my hand in his, we slip out of the door and start running.

  He picks up his dropped weapon, though I’ve got no idea if he can fire it left-handed.

  “Come on, Anna,” he says, stepping through the open door. I take one last look around the room, at the unconscious girl we came to rescue, the sullen but wisely passive guard, and the two dead bodies, then step through after him.

  Chapter Twenty

  I stick close behind Scott as he hurries along the hallway, awkwardly tucking his weapon into his waistband as he goes. That seems like a really dumb idea to me, and I keep mine in my sweating hand for three more steps before he glances back over his shoulder at me.

  “We need to blend in. No one knows what’s happened yet, and anyone walking around with a loaded weapon is going to stand out like a sore thumb.”

  He nods to the gun and I reluctantly accede that he has a point. Discretion is our best weapon now. I slip the handgun into my waistband against the small of my back and pull my top down to cover it. We get moving again and Scott hides his hand in his clothing. I guess injuries are a dead giveaway, too.

  “Does it hurt?” I ask, and then feel like the biggest idiot in the whole building – and I’ve got some stiff competition. Of course it hurts. I heard the bones breaking.

  “It’s fine,” he says, jabbing the call button on the lift with his left hand. I arch a brow at the blatant lie, and he amends with a shrug, “It’s the least of our problems right now.”

  Now that I can’t argue with. The lift doors slide open and we step inside. My foot starts tapping an impatient rhythm on the metallic floor as the doors close again. It might be the fastest way out of here, but standing still while adrenaline is pounding in my ears is hell. What if someone’s worked out what’s happening? What if the guard overpowered Joe? What if–

  A hand touches my arm and I meet Scott’s eye.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he says. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  I nod and swallow the lump in my throat. We both know he can’t make that promise but pointing it out isn’t going to help anything.

  “Kill me first,” I blurt. “Before you let them take me. Kill me rather than let it happen.”

  “Hey, look at me,” he says, tucking a finger under my chin and making me meet his eye. “No one’s going to die.”

  My breath catches in my throat for a moment, then I jerk my head away and look at the floor.

  “What’s the plan?”

  “Stay close to me and don’t speak to anyone. If we get stopped, let me do the talking.”

  Gladly. My throat’s so dry right now I don’t think I could get any words out anyway. Walking’s going to be hard enough, my legs are shaking worse than Bambi’s. So are my hands, and my stomach’s churning. I think I’m going to puke.

  There’s a bleep and the doors slide open again, revealing the lobby. I suck in a deep breath of the stale air and force myself to move, keeping close to Scott. There’s no one guarding the door – our escort isn’t going to be guarding anything again, and Joe’s not coming back to his post any time soon, either.

  We just have to cross the laminated floor, and we’re out of here. A handful of steps separate us from freedom.

  We make it halfway there before the voice sounds from behind us.

  “Hey!”

  Scott presses his hand to my back and keeps us moving. Footsteps hurry behind us.

  “Hey, guys.”

  From the corner of my eye I see the hand reach out and grab Scott’s shoulder. He tenses a split second before I register the tone of the voice. Confused, not confrontational. I turn us around, trying to force a smile onto my face. I feel Scott’s hand sliding down to the pistol tucked in my waistband.

  “Darren,” Scott says, wearing a far more convincing smile than mine. “How’s it going?”

  “Didn’t you hear the alarm? We’re supposed to be going into lockdown.”

  Scott’s smile wavers and he starts to ease the weapon loose.

  “Training accident,” I blurt, before Scott can add to our body count. Darren’s a friend. No one else needs to get hurt. And no one else is going to die. “He needs a hospital.”

  Scott pulls out his injured hand and holds it up.

  “The med-floor’s already sealed off. I figure we’ve got enough able-bodied agents that no one will miss us.”

  Darren winces.

  “Ouch. Go on, get out of here before I lock the lobby down. I’ll sign you out.”

  We don’t wait for a second invite. We hurry out of the building and down the three stone steps. I grab the car keys from Scott’s pocket – no way can he drive with that hand – and scramble behind the wheel. The second his door slams shut, I hit the gas and get us moving. I’m not going to be happy until we’re a lot of miles from this place. Probably not even then.

  Something digs painfully into my back as I swing us round the corner. Dammit, the gun. I left the safety on, right? Last thing I need is to be shooting myself in the ass. Plenty of people want to do that for me. I reach behind me and try to pull it free. The car lurches as we hit a pothole, almost sending us ploughing into the oncoming traffic. I grab the wheel and wrench us back on course.

  “Here, I’ve got it,” Scott says. I shoot a glance at him then lean forward. He pulls the weapon out and tosses it in the glove compartment, then leans back in his seat. I can feel his eyes on me but resist the urge to look at him again. One near miss is enough for today.

  “Anna?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think you could slow down, maybe a little?”

  I glance down at the speedo, which is a bad idea because when you’re driving at nearly double the speed limit, you really need to be looking where you’re going.

  “Nuh-uh.” We’re still way too close to Langford for comfort. Gardiner might be dead, but it won’t be long before someone works out what happens and comes after us. I don’t plan on sticking around to find out who that might be.

  “You know we’ve only got the one car, right?”

  I ease up on the pedal a little. Not enough to bring us back inside the legal limit, but enough that we’re not likely to end up wrapped around a lamppost. I don’t fancy walking.

  “Where exactly are we going in such a hurry?”

  “A hospital, obviously.”

  “We can’t go to a hospital.”

  He’s looking at me like I’m crazy, which is rich. He’s the one whose hand is twice the size it should be.

  “You think that’s going to heal up on its own?”

  “I think a hospital is the first place th
ey’ll look for us.”

  Shit. He’s right, as always. After everything, all of this, I still don’t know the first thing about how to run from them. At least this time I’m not on my own. I exhale slowly and loosen my death grip on the wheel.

  “So where do we go?”

  Scott is silent for a moment, then pulls a map from the glove compartment.

  “I know a place we can lie low for a few days.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Our times passes in a blur. We’re holed up in a remote cottage nestled on the edge of the mountains. It’s owned by an old friend of Scott’s, who only uses it during the summer. It’s small and quaint, with beautiful stone floors and exposed beams; the picture of nineteenth century charm. It’s so quiet, and isolated. In another lifetime it might have been peaceful. The view over the mountains stretches for miles, and I can’t stop looking out of the windows – not to appreciate the picturesque scenery, but searching for cars and choppers disrupting it and announcing that AbGen have found us.

  Scott says we can only spend a couple more nights here. Soon we’ll have to get moving again. Staying in one place for too long is a bad idea. It only takes one person to come sniffing around and we’ll be right back on AbGen’s radar. But for the moment, it’s as close to peaceful as we’re going to get.

  I let the curtain drop and step away from the window.

  “All quiet on the western front?” Scott asks with a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He spends as much time watching me as I do watching the scenery.

  “That’s east,” I say, wandering away from the window. He grabs me hand and pulls me down onto his lap, careful to keep his right hand out of the way. I snuggle into him, opening my mouth to give him another lecture about hospitals. He cuts me off with a kiss – fiendish genius – but I’ve got no objections. I can lecture him later. Much later. Our kiss deepens, until AbGen is just a bad memory and the outside world a rumour. Nothing else is real, only this room. Only this moment.

  It can’t last, though. None of it. Because the outside world is real, and AbGen are coming for us.