That was all the confirmation I needed.
Molloy’s brother was fully awake now, which was still a confused state for him. I ordered him to come with me, and he was as compliant as a dove, offering no resistance whatsoever, in spite of being a jacker. I needed to keep him close—I wasn’t going to take any chance of losing him in whatever craziness would happen when it was time to get out of here.
I stalked toward the back of the ward, Molloy’s brother stumbling behind me. The connecting tunnel was on the second floor, so we climbed the steps and to my surprise, my badge worked to swipe us in. I quickly knelt down, pushed aside the extra fabric of the scrubs, and unstrapped the gun from my ankle. Holding it forward, I pulled open the door. The hall was close to a hundred feet long between the two buildings, and at the far end was Granite Guard. Same military-grade haircut and fatigues, and apparently still doing Kestrel’s dirty work. I knew it would be futile to try to jack in, but I surged against his mind barrier anyway to test his reach. He pushed me away, but his reach wasn’t as far as mine, and at its limits he wasn’t so strong.
He started sprinting toward me.
I aimed my dart gun at him and fired, the pop echoing off the hard walls of the hall, but he kept coming. I let out an exasperated breath and aimed again. He had covered almost a third of the distance between us already, and the intensity of his mind on mine grew.
He also had a gun.
I fired again and twirled behind Molloy’s brother, using him as a bulky and confused shield. The guard cursed, but his footsteps kept coming, so I peeked under the hairy arm in front of me. Suddenly the pressure on my head ceased, and Molloy’s brother knocked me to the ground with his massive arm. Granite Guard was in his head! Rather than trying to fight him in Molloy’s brother’s head, I twisted on the cold tiled floor and fired again. Granite Guard stumbled, the shot went wide, but he fell and slid to a stop. I wasn’t sure which shot had gone in, but I’d used up three darts taking him down and I wasn’t even inside the north wing yet. Molloy’s brother’s shoulders went slack, and he stared at me as if I were a curious bug he had just found lying on the floor.
I got up before he decided to squash me.
The clock was ticking now before someone discovered what had happened. For all I knew, there were security cameras that had already taken in our little scuffle, and more guards with guns were on the way. I snagged the badge off Granite Guy and noticed that the gun lying near his hand wasn’t a dart gun. I hesitated, then picked it up and tucked it in the back of my pants. Jacking Molloy’s brother to follow me, I hurried down the hall toward the north wing.
Granite Guy’s badge granted me access through the checkpoint scanner. As soon as we stepped through the disruptor field, I lightly swept the building, searching for Kestrel. If I had any chance of taking him by surprise, I had to do it fast.
The north wing looked just like the hospital it formerly was. We dashed down a sterile white hall with speckled industrial carpeting while I scanned all three floors. There were patches of disruptor-shielded rooms interspersed with unshielded rooms that held sedated jackers. Several of the orderlies were jackers, but most were regular readers. I couldn’t find anyone who was in charge of the gate at the entrance. Dead center on the bottom floor was a square shielded room that seemed centrally located enough to be a command center.
I found a concrete stairway at the end of the hall and Molloy’s brother’s bare feet padded behind me. On the first floor, I creaked the stairwell door open, dart gun held at the ready. We jogged through the main hallway toward the center of the building. The shielded section had a door with no markings and no one nearby. In fact, we hadn’t seen a soul since we entered the north wing, even though jackers and orderlies filled the rooms and floors around us.
I swiped Granite Guard’s badge, but of course it didn’t work. As I reached to find a jacker guard who might have access, the door swung out fast, clipping me on the chin and sending me reeling into the lumpy chest of Molloy’s brother. He held me up, with an odd look on his face, like he had just woken from a dream and found me there, crumpled against him.
Coming from the door, I saw another flash of red hair.
Molloy!
I tried to jack him and swung the dart gun his way, but he pushed me away from his mind and batted the gun out of my hand. It tumbled down the carpeted hallway. I reached for the gun tucked behind my pants, but Molloy’s brother grabbed my wrist and painfully twisted it, holding the gun high in the air and nearly lifting me off the ground. I tried jacking him to let me go, but Molloy’s presence was firmly in control. Molloy’s brother looked down at me, like a giant teddy bear that was confused why his owner was playing with guns.
Molloy wrenched the gun from my grasp, but his brother didn’t let me go, just left me dangling there. The door swung closed behind Molloy as he studied me with a crooked smile.
“Ah, lassie,” Molloy said. “It’s about time you showed up. Kind of you to save me the trouble of rounding up my brother Liam, as well.”
Molloy was here, in Kestrel’s facility. Jacking his brother Liam to hold me captive. Waiting for me. My body buckled under the weight of a thousand lies.
I wasn’t the bait. I was the prize.
Molloy banged on the control room door with the handle of Granite Guard’s gun, while holding my hands behind my back in his other enormous hand. His brother Liam stood limply next to us. The door swung open. I should have completely expected it by now, but my heart still sank.
Kestrel.
I struggled against Molloy’s hold, but he just tightened his grip until I gasped. The pain nearly brought me to my knees.
“Bring her in,” Kestrel said.
Molloy shoved me through the doorway, still clutching my hands. His brother Liam followed, Molloy’s presence in his mind driving him forward and providing a sort of comfort that I would have found heartwarming if Molloy hadn’t just delivered me into Kestrel’s hands. The door clicked behind us. Kestrel crossed the room to sit on the corner of a pale metal desk. I tried to slow my breathing and keep calm. What did Julian say? If you get caught, don’t panic.
I wasn’t panicking, but keeping the anger at Molloy under wraps was more than I could do. “What did you do with Raf?” I wrenched around to throw my accusation into Molloy’s face and shoved into his mind as well. The surge of my thoughts into his summoned up an image of Raf lying on the floor, like a broken doll, his limbs poking into the air. I only saw it for a split second before Molloy pushed me out of his mind, but all the air went out of me with it.
“Easy there, little Kira.” Molloy’s lips curled up into a cruel smile. “Your pet is dead, so you needn’t worry about getting him back now.”
All energy drained out of my body with his words. Raf is dead. A dull roar of protest filled my mind. No!
Molloy was saying something, but not to me. “She’s no doubt still armed, Kestrel.”
“Well, go ahead and pat her down,” Kestrel said with a bored expression, like this was the least of his concerns.
Molloy slid open a drawer on Kestrel’s desk, placed the gun inside, and shut it. His hand was now free to pat me down while keeping a vise grip on my wrists. He found my phone and tossed it on Kestrel’s desk. Molloy’s rough hands kept up their invasive search, nearly toppling me over, but my mind was seized by that image of Raf, crumpled, lifeless. Maybe he wasn’t dead. Maybe Molloy was lying…
All of a sudden, Molloy was lifting the hem of my scrubs up and over my head and dragging my arms up with it. I struggled against him, desperately searching for the thought grenade capsules, but the smooth pink fabric slipped through my fingers. I was left standing in my t-shirt. Kestrel tore his gaze from the screens and raised an eyebrow.
“She has more stashed somewhere,” Molloy said. “I’m sure of it.”
Kestrel nodded and returned to studying the screens. Molloy discovered the patches in my sock, so I kicked him. He growled, yanked my shoe and sock off in one painful scraping
motion, and tossed the patches on Kestrel’s desk.
“Come on now,” Molloy said. “Off with the rest.”
My body stiffened. There was no way I was taking off my clothes for Molloy. I eyed the crumpled scrub shirt he still held in his hand, wondering if I could find the capsule and crush it fast enough if I lunged for it. I decided I had to wait for the right moment, so I slowly took off the other sock and shoe. There wasn’t anything in there anyway.
I threw it at him, but he easily caught it. “I’m not stripping for you, praver.”
Kestrel let out a chuckle. “She’s fine the way she is.”
I glanced around the room. It wasn’t so much a control room as Kestrel’s personal office, complete with a beaten-up desk, a rickety metal chair, a stack of scribepads neatly squared with the corner of the desk and a dozen monitors lining the wall. I stared openmouthed at the screens. He had almost certainly watched me the entire way in.
It was an elaborate trap. Too elaborate. I closed my mouth and examined Kestrel. Same cold blue eyes from the last time I saw him handcuffed to his bed post. Same hollowed cheeks that looked like they had been scarred. He ignored me, flicking looks across the screens. Why had he gone to so much trouble to lure me here? Molloy, who was obviously working for him, already had me in his grasp two days ago. At the diner.
He could have taken me then and left Raf alone entirely.
Raf. That image of him dead on the floor reared up in my mind again, and my knees went weak. What was going on? I began to think now was an excellent time to panic. Molloy was looking me over again, as I stood in front of him with bare feet, a t-shirt, and too-long scrub pants. He must have decided I wasn’t hiding anything else, because he walked my scrub shirt and shoes over to a high shelf that held a dead plant and a chipped coffee cup. Kestrel was pretty spare in his decor. His apartment had been the same way, empty of anything personal, no memory films or personal items. It was like the guy didn’t exist outside of his work. I tried not to stare at the scrubs too long, afraid to give myself away. I would have to wait for my chance to get to the capsules.
“She’s all yours,” Molloy said to Kestrel. “I kept my end of the bargain. Time for Liam and me to make our exit.” His hand rested on a dart gun holstered at his side, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he planned to shoot his way out if Kestrel reneged on whatever agreement they had made to bring me in.
“Not yet,” Kestrel said. “Besides, I don’t think you’ll want to miss the show.” He turned to me. “What do you think, Kira? How long will it take your friends to come in after you?”
“What friends?”
Molloy snorted and Kestrel gave me a look like I was being a silly little girl. My face heated up. Molloy knew Julian and all the mages. Knew about all their plans. Of course Molloy had told Kestrel everything.
“Well,” Kestrel said. “I don’t want them to break down the front door, so we might as well let them in.” Kestrel tapped his ear, using some kind of com system. “Drop the disruptor field at the front gate.”
A full minute ticked by with Kestrel and Molloy scanning the screen images of the front gate, the demens wards, and the connecting tunnels. The other screens held images of prisoners in their cells, asleep on cots in sterile white rooms. They didn’t look peaceful, more like simply unconscious. There were hundreds of jackers in the building. What made these prisoners so special? I had more pressing things to worry about at the moment.
Maybe Julian wasn’t coming because he had figured out that it was a trap. If I had been the one to drop the shield, I would have linked to Ava or called on the phone. The phone! It was still sitting on Kestrel’s desk. I quickly jacked into the mindware interface: Molloy had left it on! I pulled up Julian’s number and hastily tried to scrit him a message—just a single word, trap—but the phone had lit up and Molloy quickly snatched it up. While he fumbled to turn it off, I darted behind his back toward the shelf, but he caught my arm and yanked me close, my bare feet dragging across the rough industrial carpeting.
He stared down at me. “Don’t be trying anything, lassie.”
Molloy pocketed my phone, then twirled the desk chair around and shoved me into it, keeping a hand on my shoulder. Had the message gone through? Maybe that would be enough to warn Julian. Kestrel’s gaze never wavered from the screen with the gate. A movement on the screens caught my eye, and a boy with dark hair—Julian—led a crew toward the guard. The gate sprung open as they neared and Julian paused.
I wanted to scream and reflexively reached out, but was stopped by the chill of the field surrounding Kestrel’s office. Julian signaled to the mages behind him, and Ava, Sasha, Hinckley, and Myrtle crept forward, following his lead, right through the gate.
Kestrel tapped the com link again. “No,” he said to whoever was on the other end. “Wait until they’re inside the tunnel.”
No, no, no. Think!
I couldn’t jack Kestrel or Molloy on my own. Maybe I could jack Molloy’s brother, just long enough for a distraction. It might buy me a second of time so I could reach the scrubs and activate the thought grenade.
Whatever I was going to do, it had to be now.
I plunged into Liam’s mind, which churned with confused thoughts even as he was fascinated by all the colors on the screens. Molloy was still there, holding tight onto Liam’s mind. At the same time, I wriggled out from under Molloy’s grasp and lunged up from the chair, past Liam, heading for the shelf. Molloy growled and caught me by the wrist. It was the same wrist that Liam had twisted before, and I let out a yelp that finally drew Kestrel’s attention.
“Hold her still,” Kestrel said to Molloy, then returned his gaze to the screen. Molloy forced me back into the metal chair, his two hands welded to my shoulders and jamming me farther into the seat. I tucked my injured wrist against my chest.
“There will be no more escapes, Kira.” Kestrel’s eyes remained glued to the screens. “No more rescue attempts.” I watched helplessly as Julian and the mages worked their way through the demens ward. “Now that you’ve brought all the most dangerous,” he said and flicked a look to me, “and the most unusually talented jackers to me, there won’t be anyone left to come get you.”
Julian and the mages found the door to the access tunnel that I had left open. I could hardly pull in a breath. Julian examined the inert body of the guard. A smile lit his face when he found the dart sticking out of his chest. My dart. From the gun Julian had given me. He must think I was simply waiting for him.
I was suffocating on the need to scream out. Warn him. Do something.
Kestrel tapped the com link again. “Now.” Orange mist floated down from the ceiling of the connecting tunnel. My shoulders caved further under Molloy’s weight. Ava spotted it first. Her shout—soundless on Kestrel’s monitor—alerted the others. They covered their noses and mouths with their hands, but they were already stumbling. A tear leaked down my cheek as, one by one, the mages fell. Julian was the last. He almost made it to the door, his fingers fumbling adrenaline patches from his pocket, but the gas took him. The patches lay scattered on the floor, and Julian’s hand fell open next to them.
An animal sound rumbled deep in my chest, and I struggled vainly against Molloy’s hold. I twisted around, trying to scratch his face, grab his ears, get hold of anything to make him pay. He held me at arm’s length with a sour look on his face.
“Would have been better if I’d killed you too, lassie.” Molloy’s teeth glistened white when he smiled. “Better for you, in any event.”
“And for her friends,” added Kestrel matter-of-factly. “I haven’t forgotten those three darts you put in me, Kira, even if I can’t remember how you got them there. But I assure you, this is nothing personal. This is much bigger than you. It always has been.”
Kestrel’s voice was closer now. The needle stung as it went in. As the juice clouded my mind, Molloy’s leering face blurred into a patch of white and red. My last thought before the juice pulled me under was about Raf.
/> I hadn’t been able to save him after all.
When I woke up, the familiar orange anesthetic taste of the juice stung the back of my tongue. A sterile white sheet crinkled under me. My room looked identical to the ones on the screens in Kestrel’s office: bare white walls blending into the white tiled floor; the cot standing opposite the thin outline of a handleless door; diffuse light raining down from overhead panels. I swallowed down the dryness that came from the juice and sat up. My wrist couldn’t take any weight, still sore from Molloy and his brother Liam.
I slumped on the edge of the thin cot, tempted to lie down again. I was trapped. Julian and the mages were caught. Molloy had to be long gone by now, having finally gotten his brother in exchange for the rest of us.
I should find a way to break out.
I should try to escape.
All I wanted to do was lie down and wish it all away.
A cloud of anger boiled in my chest. It was my wishful thinking—that I could go home, that Raf and my family would be safe from the likes of Molloy and Kestrel—that had landed me back in Kestrel’s grasp.
And Raf…
Tears stung my throat even more, making me cough and sob at the same time. The image in Molloy’s mind of Raf sprawled on the floor haunted my thoughts. If Molloy was telling the truth, Raf was dead. If not, he would either kill him now or maybe trade him to some praver in Jackertown. Then Raf would live, although I wasn’t sure if that was better or not.
My shoulders caved and my knees slowly tucked up until I tipped sideways on the cot, a tight ball of pain crushing me from the inside out. Tears dripped onto the starched pillowcase and clouded my head, a fog descending on my brain. Maybe I could just slip into it, fade away—
Closed Hearts (Book Two of the Mindjack Trilogy) Page 15