“Lights!” Jimmy shouted desperately, without response from the house. Glancing up, he saw that the two had fallen through the railing that lined the upstairs floor, and a small crowd of children now peered through the gap down at the bodies. “Lilah?” he called. “Erik?”
A small voice floated out from behind the other children.
“Daddy?”
Jimmy’s heart leaped. He knew that voice. He would know his son anywhere.
“Erik?” he called again. “Where are you? Where’s Aunt Lilah?”
Another face peered over the spindly railing, this one a young teenage girl who wheezed painfully. “She’s there,” she said hoarsely, pointing downward. “She fell.”
Jimmy gasped and hurried forward. Once he was practically on top of them, he could see Lilah’s braids splayed on the floor. Her head was turned to the side, and her eyes were closed. He couldn’t even tell if she was breathing. The man (her attacker?) was sprawled half on top of her, his weight pinning her to the ground. Jimmy couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead, and he didn’t much care. He shoved impatiently at the man’s bulk, trying to get him off Lilah enough so that he could check if she was alive. He’d just succeeded in getting the man off her chest when someone clutched at him from behind. He startled but turned to find Erik’s face pressed into his back, his hands clenching fistfuls of Jimmy’s shirt.
“Hey, bud,” he crooned softly at his son, pulling him close with one arm. “It’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right.” While he squeezed Erik’s shoulders, he looked down again at Lilah and pressed his fingers to her neck, trying to get a pulse.
“Jimmy, there’s an old woman up here who’s not going to last much longer,” Grier informed from above at the broken railing. The children had backed away from him. “I’m going to get her into the transport and come back to help you with Ms. Armenta. There’s a Quintan Security officer in the hall at the foot of the stairs too, but he’s already gone. We’ll have to send a recovery team.”
“OK,” Jimmy answered, his voice cracking. He still didn’t know if Lilah had survived the fall. If only he could get this blasted brute off her all the way.
“Erik, I need to you to stand back for a minute,” he said, gently disentangling his son’s fingers from the silky fabric of his shirt. Erik only pressed closer. Jimmy turned to his son, wondering how he could convince him to trust him just enough to let him help Lilah when a hand suddenly snapped around his wrist.
“Help me . . .” The man croaked. His eyes were open slits, and his mouth dropped open a little.
“Who are you?” Jimmy demanded.
“Just . . . a . . . man . . . doing . . . a job,” he rasped.
“Who do you work for?” Anger surged through Jimmy’s veins, giving him a boost of energy. This man worked for the same people who had kidnapped Jenna.
“No one . . . I’d . . . double-cross,” the man said with a breathless chuckle. “Not to . . . save . . . my life.”
“That’s pretty much your option now,” Jimmy retorted harshly. He found a pulse on Lilah, but it seemed weak. He needed to get her out of here quickly without jarring her too much. But Lev was going to need this worthless murderer too. He was wearing a Quintan Security uniform, so he was clearly one of the in-house traitors infesting the Quintan Security, and Lev would need to know just how deep that cancer had spread. Lilah took priority. He shoved the man roughly off of Lilah, and the traitor squeaked in pain before his eyes rolled back into his head. “Good,” muttered Jimmy. He was just trying to figure out how to lift Lilah without hurting her any worse than she already was when Grier reappeared.
“I’ve got her, Mr. James,” Grier offered, scooping her up as casually as if she were a child. Impressive, Jimmy thought. I hope I have half his strength when I’m “retired.” “There’s a whole herd of children upstairs,” Grier said, settling Lilah more securely in his arms. “I don’t know what to do about them.”
Jimmy nodded and jabbed his finger toward the insensible traitor bent nearly in half on the floor. “And him?”
“Lock him up,” Grier said, his tone glacial. He tossed a pair of shiny manacles at Jimmy, who caught them and dropped down to snap the man’s wrists together. His body looked unnaturally disjointed. Most likely his shoulder was dislocated. Jimmy couldn’t quite bring himself to care.
Grier headed back in the direction of the kitchen, gliding smoothly to avoid jostling Lilah. Jimmy glanced down at Erik, who had latched onto his leg with both arms again. “Come on, Erik,” he said, swinging his son up onto his hip. “Let’s go meet your friends, shall we?”
●●●
At the top of the stairs he found a young teenage girl sitting with another boy about Erik’s age in her lap. There was another child on each side of her, though it was hard to tell if they were boys or girls. They stared at him with wide eyes, their thin, dirty faces upturned. Another boy, maybe nine or ten years old, stood behind Dania, holding a pillar of the broken railing like a club.
“Don’t come any closer,” he threatened.
The teenage girl kept her eyes on Erik as he happily chattered in words that Jimmy couldn’t really understand. Probably he was telling Jimmy all about the kids in front of him. “It’s all right, Nik,” she said quietly. The boy didn’t move at first, but when it became clear that Jimmy was not going to attack, he slowly lowered the club.
“Are you in charge?” Jimmy asked the girl seated on the stairs.
She shook her head, and then she changed her mind midmovement and nodded slowly. “This is Luzia Vincze’s house, but that other man carried her out. He said he will get her to a doctor. Is that true?” she asked suspiciously.
“Yes, we will help all we can,” Jimmy promised. The girl sighed visibly, her shoulders dipping. The children around her burrowed closer to her sides. “What’s your name?”
“Dania,” she answered, a little bit hesitantly
“What are you going to do now?” Were they living here by themselves? Were they all orphans, with Mrs. Vincze the only adult caring for them?
The girl’s eyes darkened for just a moment, and then Jimmy watched the light go out completely. It was as if he could watch all her hope for the future drain right from her eyes. Another young face popped out from behind the first door on the landing, and then another face. The girls glanced just once at Jimmy and then tripped noiselessly over to the broken balustrade, where they peered over nervously. Just how many children were in this place?
Erik was distracted by the new arrivals. He squirmed in Jimmy’s arm until he put him down. Erik went straight for one of the girls, jabbering to her about his father.
“I guess I’ll take care of things,” the girl said, though she sounded exhausted at the thought. Jimmy didn’t even hesitate.
“I think you should come with us,” he said. “We have a transport, and you probably want to go with Mrs. Vincze anyway.”
The girl hesitated for a long moment, studying Jimmy’s face. He must have passed her test, though, because she nodded jerkily. Then she called softly for the other children.
“How many . . .” Jimmy’s voice trailed off as at least six more children swarmed from one of the rooms. He counted heads twice, which was tricky because the little ones kept darting around one another. Eleven children, not including Erik. Lev’s transport was large, but it was going to be a tight fit, especially since Mrs. Vincze and Lilah would be laid out flat. Still, what else were they going to do? He wasn’t going to leave them all here on their own.
“Head down the stairs and wait at the back door,” he instructed the group. “My friend will be back in a minute to escort you to our transport.”
The children looked to Dania, and when she nodded her approval, they started to race down the stairs. Jimmy kept hold of Erik’s hand as he hurried to check all the bedrooms for any missing children. Everything was empty. There wer
e a few sleeping pads and some ragged blankets, but not much else. Jimmy picked up Erik again and headed back down the stairs. The group milled around the back door, waiting for Grier to reappear. Jimmy mentally counted heads again. Everybody seemed to be there. Putting Erik back down on the floor, Jimmy drew his weapon and carefully climbed out the ruined door. The back alley was too narrow for Lev’s transport. It would be less risky to take the kids out the front door, considering there were only two of them with weapons. Not to mention that herding children in a specific direction could be a fool’s game.
He slipped back inside the kitchen. “Let’s go to the front door,” he told Dania. “Is there some other way to get there without passing through the living room?” He didn’t want to drag all the kids past the body of the Quintan Security traitor. She shook her head. Great. Well, the man was locked up. They would just have to rush the line of kids around him.
“Where’s Erik?” he barked at Dania.
She was wrestling with a two-year-old who apparently wanted to run out the door. She looked around at the other kids. “I don’t know,” Dania answered anxiously. “He was just here!” She disentangled herself from the squirming toddler and handed him off to one of the older boys standing near the door. “Maybe he went back upstairs for something? I’ll run and check.”
A tug at Jimmy’s pant leg startled him, and he looked down into the pinched face of a small boy just a little older than Erik. He pointed wordlessly at the hall that led into the living room. “Thanks,” Jimmy said hastily, moving quickly to the hall and hurrying back toward the living room. He didn’t want his son anywhere near the body of the Quintan Security traitor.
“Daddy!” Erik called. Jimmy froze and then looked up. Erik was upstairs, standing between the splintered balcony railing posts and leaning over the edge.
“Erik, stay back!” Jimmy shouted, darting below him. But Erik didn’t move away from the edge. His wide eyes were fixed on a point over Jimmy’s head. He looked over his shoulder and time seemed to slow, seconds stretching out as he realized that the traitor had regained consciousness. He was on his knees and aiming a gun that Jimmy recognized as Lilah’s, his manacled hands around the grip. But he wasn’t aiming at Jimmy. He had the sight focused directly at Erik.
“Got to . . . finish . . . the job,” the man commented breathlessly.
Without thinking, Jimmy leaped at him just as he fired the gun. Before the traitor could get off another shot, Jimmy collided with him, wrenching the man’s injured arm until he screamed in agony and dropped the gun. Jimmy kicked him viciously in the ribs repeatedly until Grier suddenly grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?” he hissed, pulling out an injector and sedating the man. He slumped back to the ground, unconscious again.
“Daddy?” Erik’s voice was trembling. Jimmy and Grier looked up at the same time. Dania stood in front of Erik, her arms still outstretched, staring down at the blossoming red stain on her chest. She stood frozen for just a few seconds more before crumpling into a heap against the remains of the banister.
46. Zane’s Homecoming
When Zane finally forced his way back into consciousness, everything was a dark, hazy swamp of pain. He heard voices, and he felt heat, and needles of agony stabbed into his temples. It took a moment to be able to separate the voices into words and another minute to make sense of the words’ meaning.
“He’s stable,” an unfamiliar voice said with a sigh of relief.
“Can he be moved?” This voice Zane recognized, though it took him a moment to put a name to the voice.
“In a couple of minutes. I’m a little concerned about the blood pressure.”
“His father wants to see him. Should I bring him in or have him wait?” Finally Zane recognized the voice. It was Tracy, his father’s personal bodyguard.
There was a moment of silence. Zane felt a cool cloth blotting his sweaty forehead.
“If you think that it won’t be upsetting. I need him to stay calm. He should be fully awake any moment.”
Zane wanted to explain that he was already awake but found that he couldn’t open his mouth. He was breathing, slowly and evenly, but even trying to open his eyes proved impossible. He gave up and listened instead.
“Zane!” This was his father. He would recognize his father’s voice anywhere. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Will he be all right?”
“I think so,” said the first voice, though Zane could hear the slight hesitation. “Coma-inducing nanobots are notoriously unpredictable, though. What possessed him to activate it in the first place?”
“He must have thought it was worth the risk,” his father said. There was the lightest touch of fingertips brushing his hair back from his forehead.
Suddenly, Zane remembered why he had risked everything. It gave him the strength to force his eyes open.
“Zane!” his father exclaimed, his relief suffusing the word with warmth. “Everything is all right. You are safe now.”
“Berry,” Zane tried to whisper. It came out as mumbled gibberish.
“What?” the first voice asked. A medtech, Zane guessed. He had to make them understand. If he could just make the name clear enough for his father to understand.
He swallowed, trying to moisten his papery throat and tried again. “Berry Forrest.” This time it was a bit clearer. His father’s face hovered directly over his own, frowning in confusion. Zane could see the medtech to the side. He wondered where Tracy had gone.
Zane licked his cracked lips and tried again. It was like trying to make himself understood through a mouthful of cotton. “Beryl,” he croaked. His father’s eyes widened. Zane struggled to sit up. They had to find her!
“Beryl Forrest?” his father said. “You saw her?”
The medtech put an arm behind Zane’s shoulder’s and lifted, helping him into a sitting position. Then she pressed a water bottle to Zane’s mouth. “Take a sip,” she ordered. “Just a sip.” Zane did as requested and then cleared his throat. It was much easier to speak this time.
“She was with me,” Zane whispered.
“Tracy?” called his father.
Tracy stepped back into Zane’s range of vision. “We cleared the whole building, Mr. Quintan. We captured two men and one woman. Three others were killed during the sweep. There was no child, though.”
Zane looked around, his head still spinning dizzily. He was back in the red storage room, not in the media room where he had collapsed. They must have moved him when he fell into the coma. But had Berry hidden like she was supposed to? Was she still hidden? Or had they found her and sent her off to that despicable admiral before his father arrived?
“How long has it been?” he rasped. “Since the tracker activated?”
His father checked his watch. “About eight hours, almost all of it travel time. I put a team on standby as soon as you disappeared . . . just in case.”
Eight hours! His hope wavered. A little girl couldn’t stay hidden for that long without being found, could she? If she had, wouldn’t she have come out once his father’s team captured all of the kidnappers?
Then he remembered how timid and hesitant she had been when they had first been in the room together. No, probably not. If she was still here, she was probably just as terrified by the Quintan Security officers as she had been by the kidnappers. What difference would Berry see between them? Just more scary men with weapons.
“I’ve got to get up,” he said impatiently.
His father only hesitated a moment and then stepped forward, grabbing Zane’s arm. Tracy took the other arm, and then Zane shoved himself up with their help.
The medtech tsked in disapproval but didn’t say anything. Still, Zane found himself surrounded by an anxious trio of people hovering around him as he made his way out of the red room and back to the media room he had last seen Berry in. If I were a little gir
l, he thought as he looked around the empty room and behind all the furniture, where would I hide? She wasn’t in the media room, not even in the ventilation shaft near the floor that had a free-swinging grate. He called inside, just in case she’d managed to crawl through the ventilation duct, though it was so small she would have needed to be some kind of magic contortionist to fit.
“There has to be some sign of her,” Zane said worriedly. “Can we send the team through again? Have them call ‘Berry.’ That seems to be the name she likes the best.” His father gave the orders by comm, and then ordered Zane to rest. Zane shook his head. “I have to keep looking,” he protested.
“Rest for a minute. In a chair,” his father ordered pointedly.
Zane reluctantly eased himself into one of the plush reclining chairs. It molded to his body, and Zane closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shut off the dizziness.
A sudden shout from the hall startled him, and he tried to bolt to his feet, only to collapse back onto the chair. “Sir!” shouted a man from the doorway. “Look at this!” He held a pile of clothing in his arms.
His father took the top item and held it up. It was a woman’s sweater tunic. “Made of Terran cashmere,” his father noted. “That’s not local clothing.” There was a pair of well-worn women’s day slacks and a sturdy pair of shoes. The whole outfit seemed like something an older woman might wear—possibly Mrs. Smitz? The last piece of clothing in the pile was much fancier. A dressy pair of silky black slacks. It struck a chord of memory in Zane.
“Where did you find these?” he demanded eagerly.
“In the large storage room at the end of the hall. They were scattered on the floor in front of a small worktable.”
“Did you search that room?” he demanded.
“There’s nowhere to search. A couple of worktables, several chairs, some broken med capsules shoved in a corner. There’s a lot of mud. It looks like they had flooding in here.”
Zane shoved himself back out of his chair with a groan. Medical capsules. Of course. The first vid they had recovered had shown all of the kidnapped family members suspended in medical capsules.
Rift (Roran Curse Book 3) Page 39