“Mick...are you sure.”
“Fire at will. Indiscriminately. Take out the elevator.”
“Turn the elevators off, dammit.”
“Working on it...” Mick said, and the communication was cut short.
Blair choked out a mixture of a gasp and a sob and clutched Frank’s neck. “Who are you?” she asked, her eyes darting between everyone around her. Grant had pushed his back against the climbing elevator. He could hear the gunshots ring out below. Little pings echoed around them; the bullets were landing against the metal.
Darla took her gun and put it against Blair’s head, and Blair screamed and cowed.
“Don’t kill me,” she screamed. “Please, please, don’t kill me. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“How do we get out of here?” Darla asked.
“If we ma-ma-make it to the main lift...then we just go. Once that elevator is going, they, they, they’d have to wait to come after us until we reached the surface.” Blair said, looking at Darla through her tears. “But—” she stopped. “If they come after you, you’re toast. Look, we’re toast no matter what. If the elevators stop...I can’t control that...”
The elevator churned to a slow stop. The sides rattled. Dean swore under his breath.
Together, Darla and Dean pried the doors open and saw two feet of light pour into the box; they had been so close to their destination.
“You first,” Darla said to Dean and he listened without hesitation and crawled through the small open space, depositing himself on to the ground below. Grant went next. Then Blair pushed Frank through and then herself. Darla was last.
Darla grabbed Blair and propped her up on her feet, and they took off running, back up the same hallway that had brought them into the underground dome. Frank ran alongside, his tail and tongue wagging, like he was back jogging with Blair.
“They’ll be right on your heels,” Blair said. “There are hidden stairwells to this portion...in case of an emergency.”
And sure enough, just as they reached the elevator to the surface, they saw a blur of uniforms appear. The guards began to fire. Jorge and the redhead raised their guns and fired. The bullets ricocheted off the walls and the sound made Grant’s ears hurt. They climbed aboard the lift and pushed the button. It began to rise. Its exposed top made Grant feel woozy; he could see the reinforced dirt walls and feel the warm stagnant air. A single lightbulb illuminated the area and cast their shadows on the wall. A bullet pierced the bottom of the small elevator and Blair screamed. Dean grabbed her and held her close, pushing her toward the side. Another bullet tore through the bottom.
They traveled upward slowly.
The gunshots began to get softer, further away.
“They’ll just come after you,” Blair said. “You won’t get away.”
The walkie-talkie crackled again, but the voices on the other end were too jumbled to understand. They were slipping out of range.
Dean embraced Grant and put his hand on the back of his head. “Son,” he said. When he drew back to look at him, he was crying. “I can’t believe this…I don’t have the words…”
“Son?” Blair whispered and she looked between Grant and Dean, her arm still wrapped around Frank’s neck. “Oh my God.” She clamped her mouth shut and stared off at the dark wall surrounding them. “Oh my...”
“Blair—” Grant started and she looked at him, her eyes big.
“I don’t understand,” she replied. “You know them.” It wasn’t a question. She closed her eyes tight. “I’m so confused. You know them.”
“Blair,” he said again. “This is my dad. And this is Darla...” he stopped. “Teddy’s mom.”
Blair inhaled like all the air had been punched out of her and she was struggling for breath. When she looked at Grant, she was a piteous mess; all her fear and anger had morphed into a penetrating sadness. He wanted to go to her, but he kept his distance, assessing her confusion from the safety of his corner. Blair’s head dropped to her chest and she put her hand over her heart.
“My dad told me his mom was dead,” she said in a whisper.
“I’m very much alive,” Darla answered. “Much to everyone’s chagrin, I’m sure.” She looked up as the elevator continued its climb. They could see the light now from the opened elevator doors on the surface; daylight crept downward, and the air was lighter, more breathable. “We need a plan. Stat.”
“They will realize that they can’t waste time waiting for this lift and they’ll go the emergency lifts at the other end of the System,” Blair said weakly. “That’s probably why they didn’t kill the elevators...they’re heading to the hidden ones…”
“Hidden ones…” Grant repeated. He realized how much he hadn’t understood about his short-lived home.
“We can’t shut those down?” Darla asked. “The power source outside…the solar panels.”
“Won’t make it in time.” Blair covered her face with her hands. “But…”
Darla put the gun to Blair’s head, but Grant stepped forward and put his hand on her forearm, pushing the gun to the floor. Darla took a deep breath and kept the gun pointed away from Blair. She shifted her weight nervously and watched the surface above them with rapt interest.
“I can shut it down,” Blair said. “I’m the only one with a direct line to Kymberlin. Mick gave me the phone. He thought it would be the easiest task...to keep me included...to let me be the one to call when the operation was over.” She closed her eyes. “I can call...I can take the whole System offline...”
“What does that mean?” Dean asked.
Grant looked at his dad. “It means that they shut the power off remotely. And it would trap everyone.”
“The Copia people are already...” Blair trailed off. “Shutting down the System would trap the guards. It would…it would…”
“Do it,” commanded Darla.
“Is that the only way?” Dean asked. He reached out to Grant’s neck and he gave it a comforting squeeze. It was instinct to pull away, but Grant didn’t. He let his dad’s hand linger there. Grant couldn’t remember the last time his dad had shown him affection. They had spent so much of their time together at odds, dancing around their own grief and never allowing the other person to create any sort of stronghold in their life. Here he was, eighteen years-old, and all he wanted was to feel his dad’s comforting hand; he wanted to hear that he had been missed and that everything was going to be okay.
After a pause, Grant nodded. “It is. It’s the only way.”
“Do what you need to do to get Darla back to her boy,” Dean said. “We’ve been through a lot to get here. And we don’t have much time.”
Blair looked up at Darla. She shook her head and cried. Frank licked her face and she pushed him away. “It had to happen to me,” she mumbled. “Of course. It had to. It was too much to ask for...”
Darla closed her eyes, the elevator climbed upward. She crouched down next to Blair and tenderly touched her on the hand. “You don’t know me. But you know my child. Please look at me...please look at me,” Darla said. She couldn’t help but cry. She looked up into the darkness above her to quell the tears. Blair turned and faced Darla. “I miss him,” Darla continued. “I need him. I’m not the enemy...I’m just a mom who needs her boy.”
“Dammit,” Blair cried and wiped her nose. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You were supposed to be dead...”
“I’m alive,” Darla whispered.
“I know those men,” Blair said. She whimpered and buried her head in Frank’s fur.
Darla was undeterred and she tried to speak again, but it was Grant who dropped down to Blair. “You heard Mick on the radio. He didn’t hesitate to say that you would be collateral damage. Don’t pay them the respect they couldn’t pay you. This is my family...”
“And if I don’t?” she asked.
“We die,” Grant answered. “We all die. Together.”
Without saying
another word, Blair reached into her front shirt pocket. She pulled out a small phone and hit a button to call a programmed number. The phone rang once and Blair put the call on speaker and put a finger to her lips.
“What the hell is going on down there?” Claude answered without formalities.
“Claude? It’s Blair. Take us offline!” she said. “Take us offline. It’s chaos down there, Claude. It’s a revolt. You’ve lost the EUS.”
Blair kept crying, but she swallowed her fear. Her voice sounded strong and sure. Darla looked up, the light was getting closer—the surface was in reach.
“Can anyone be saved?” Claude asked. “Where are you?”
“We…we...” Blair stammered. “We’re almost to the surface. We’re struggling here, Claude. Be quick.”
“We?” Claude repeated.
“Grant,” she said in a small voice. Then Blair grimaced. She realized she had made a mistake. She could have said Frank. Instead, she outed him.
Grant’s death had been orchestrated from the beginning. How easy would it have been for Blair to say that only she and Frank had made it into the elevator? If they knew Grant was alive, they would expect him back with Blair. And Grant knew that meant walking willingly back into the lion’s den. He thought of Lucy. Maybe he’d get to see Lucy. But he thought of leaving his father. He hung his head. Blair could read his troubled expression and she shook her head and mouthed an “I’m sorry.” His hand went around his neck, to string the crucifix along its chain, but he realized the necklace was gone.
“I had to save Grant. He saved me,” Blair said, louder and with conviction. She said the lie quickly and without pausing; he hoped those listening on the other end bought it. He watched as Blair struggled with every word coming out of her mouth.
“And it’s just the two of you?” Claude said. He didn’t wait for confirmation. “Blair, are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.” She kept her eyes focused on the floor of the elevator. She was covered in blood—Nate’s, Ryley’s.
“Okay Blair, I need the code.”
“I can’t give you the code, Claude. Mick is dead. He never gave it to me.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, some shuffling of papers. Claude’s voice dropped, “Blair, you know I can’t take you offline without the code. It’s protocol.”
“Mick is dead!” Blair said. She sounded close to panic. “Please, Claude, please. Take us offline! I’m begging you. You don’t know what’s happening here. My life is in danger!”
They kept moving toward the light, toward escape.
“I understand, Blair. It’s my choice and I’ll make the call. I’m taking you offline in ten seconds. Will you be at the surface?”
Grant could now see the entry to the library. They were no more than twenty feet down. Blair looked at Darla and Darla nodded. “Yes,” Blair replied.
“Travel home safely, Blair. I’ll brief your father. Stay close to the phone.” Claude added and the call ended. Seconds later, the elevator rocked and grinded to a stop less than ten feet away from the exit. Grant jumped up and the elevator rocked; he hoisted himself up on to the lip and then lay on his belly and peered down into the pit at the others and extended his hand.
“That’s it?” Darla asked. “That’s all?”
“That’s it?” Blair repeated. “They just took the entire System offline. Lights out. Nothing left. No more elevators, no more communication. Just blackness until they suffocate down there.” She looked at Darla and shook her head. “It’s an awful way to go. It’s an awful thing to do to people...and I did it. I did it to them. So, yes, that’s it. That’s it. You’re safe…others are dead. And that’s it.”
“They would have done it to you,” Darla said, but Blair stood up and brushed her hands off on her skirt.
“That’s not why I did it...that’s not a good enough reason.” She bent down and picked up Frank and he struggled in her arms, clawing against her chest and her shoulders. She lifted him up to Grant and Grant reached down and grabbed Frank around the belly and then set him in the library. Frank bounced around Grant’s body and began sniffing the edges of the bookshelves.
Dean created a stepping stool out of his knee and helped both Darla and Blair to the surface. Then he jumped and grabbed the ledge, hoisting himself up onto the floor. He just rested there, his legs still hanging into the black pit, his upper body out in the library.
Blair grabbed Frank’s leash and walked up to Darla. “Teddy’s mom,” she said. “As if my day couldn’t get more heartbreaking.”
After a beat, Darla nodded. “He’s my everything. I don’t know how you know my son…but…”
Behind a bookshelf, they heard a low whisper. “You left me,” a voice cried, raspy and hoarse.
Grant froze and Blair shrieked, dropping to her knees.
Dean and Darla stared at them and then looked at each other. They began to laugh. It was a bubbling of all the pent-up tension from the last forty minutes. Darla wiped her eyes and wandered to the nonfiction aisle, and Dean joined her. A girl was splayed out making dust angels against the hardwood floor.
“We’re sorry, Ainsley...but trust us...you didn’t want any part of what just happened down there,” Dean said. He stretched out his hand and she sat up.
“Ainsley...” Grant repeated.
“Grant, right?” Ainsley asked and she extended her hand to him. He took it and shook her cold hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” she added. Grant raised his eyebrows and looked at her. She had wild frizzy hair and a large nose, and one of her front teeth protruded out in front of her other one. She wore torn jeans and there were dark circles underneath her eyes. When she noticed him staring at her, she ducked behind Darla and put her hands on her friend’s shoulders.
“He’s looking at me,” Ainsley said. “Make him stop.”
Dean nudged his son and Grant turned to Blair, unsure of what to make of the girl with the wild hair. He took a step forward. “What happens now?” he asked. “There’s no Copia?”
“There’s no Copia,” she confirmed.
“And I’m supposed to be dead.”
Blair didn’t answer.
“Blair—”
“I don’t know what to do,” she said to the group. “You’re alive and the guards are dead. And Teddy’s mom is alive and...” Blair looked like she was too overwhelmed to continue. “And I’ll have to face my father.”
“Look,” Darla said, but Blair put up her hand to stop her from continuing.
“No,” Blair spat. “Nobody talk to me. You have to let me think. You don’t understand...none of you can understand. I just saved you, but...”
Grant put a hand on her shoulder and she didn’t shove him off. They all stood watching her, realizing slowly that their entire lives rested in Blair’s hands. Frank barked and outside a strong wind blew and it rattled the roof.
“You don’t understand,” she repeated. “What happens now? Now that everything I’ve worked for and wanted is gone?” And without saying anything else or giving them any instructions, Blair tugged on Frank’s leash and stormed out of the library and onto the deserted Brixton road.
Ainsley stuck her head out and followed the line-of-sight out the door and then ducked back. “Who was that?” she asked, pointing after Blair.
“The woman who is going to take me to my son,” Darla answered, and she stuck her gun in the back of her leggings, following Blair into the bright afternoon sun.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Maxine slopped a large scoop of eggs on Lucy’s plate. She kept moving down the line: some for Galen, Malcolm, Monroe, and Harper. They looked at the eggs and pushed them around on their plates; a thin layer of uncooked whites wobbled under their forks.
“Where did they come from?” Malcolm asked.
“Chickens, dummy,” Monroe answered.
“I mean...” Malcolm continued, ignoring his brother, “where did
the chickens come from?”
This seemed like a valid question, so everyone turned to their mother and awaited her reply. Scott, with wild hair and several days of beard growth, crossed his arms over his chest and pushed the plate back an inch. Maxine watched his actions scornfully and turned her attention to her children.
“The East Tower has an agricultural level. They have chickens there,” Maxine said with a curt nod and raised eyebrows. “Any other questions?”
“Do they deliver them to your doorstep every day?” Monroe asked.
“Do we have to eat eggs every day?” whined Malcolm.
Lucy took a bite and felt the soft folds of the undercooked egg rest against her tongue. She swallowed quickly and reached for the salt. Galen pushed it toward her and then nabbed the pepper, and they sprinkled their mother’s meal with enough spices to hide its imperfections.
“No and no,” Maxine replied. “Eat and stop your complaining. You have fresh eggs, seasonally appropriate vegetables, and your mother just made you breakfast. Get up anytime you want and make your own damn meal if you want.”
It was just going to be one of those days. The kids exchanged wary glances and started to eat. Harper rested her fist on her chin and slid her breakfast from one end of the plate to the other. She started to mumble something, but Maxine shot her a withering look and Harper clamped her mouth shut. Even she knew it was best not to push further.
Scott stood up without touching his breakfast.
“I’m going to the track,” he announced. “Run a few laps.”
“Now?” Maxine asked, but it wasn’t a question. “When we can, we have breakfast as a family.”
Her father looked at the empty chair where Ethan should have been. He’d been up and out of the apartment before any of them woke. While he hadn’t been as brusque to Lucy (she was sure he heard about her conversation with Cass and perhaps he felt guilty for excluding her and hurting her feelings), he had not warmed up to their parents. Scott took to the behavior by withdrawing. Maxine seemed perpetually wound-up for a fight.
The Variables (Virulent Book 3) Page 30