The Galilee Falls Trilogy (Book 2): Galilee Rising

by Harlow, Jennifer

  "Do you think I didn't consider that? Do you have any idea how much I've agonized over keeping my secret? I lost sleep over it. I fought for it. I approached them individually, together, a dozen times since the beginning. It killed me I couldn't tell you, but I had other people to consider."

  "If you really wanted me to know, you would have told me," I say, voice hard.

  "We have been acquainted for less than two months, Joanna. Only six people, yourself included, have ever been privy to that information. And I still wanted to tell you. I told you I wanted to. You said you understood the reasons. But it was all a test, wasn't it? You were testing me because you didn't trust me." He starts pacing back and forth on the other side of the table. "I swear to God I could kill Justin right now. I didn't do anything wrong, and I'm the one paying for his sins." He stops moving and looks me dead in the eyes. "I am not Justin, Joanna. Just because he lied to you does not mean I will as well. Just because he let you down and brought you abject misery does not mean I will. I am not responsible for his mistakes, and I resent you flogging me for them."

  "That is not what I--"

  "And for God's sake, admit the real reason you lied. Because this," he says, gesturing to us both, "frightens you almost to the point of madness. I know it does me. If you had told me, you knew there would be nothing left in our way, would there? Nothing but your fear that maybe, just maybe, this could be, that we could be the real thing. That you can let me in, and I won't run away, and I won't shun you for being less than perfect. That I can potentially hurt you. Believe me, I understand. Because I feel exactly the same way when it comes to you." He shrugs. "But I was willing to take the chance. Because I trusted you. Because I thought you were worth the risk. I don't think you're there yet. I don't know if you ever will be." He turns his back to me and begins toward the door.

  "I want to be." He spins around, understandably skeptical. "And that is epic for me. Hope has always let me down. It damn near destroyed me three times over. Never, not once, has it come through for me, so forgive me if this doesn't come naturally. It's not you, I swear it. A person can only be knocked down so many times before it becomes impossible to get back up. And the last time almost killed me. Literally. But I'm…finding my legs." I take a step toward him. "And you did that. You picked me up. Just…please help me the rest of the way."

  He studies me, the anger fading. "Oh, Joanna. I--"

  BOOM!

  A huge explosion slices through the rest of his sentence. I have no idea where it comes from, not this building I don't think, but close enough I jolt. Before I can ponder this further, Jem throws me to the ground and covers my body with his just as the bay windows beside us shatter into a trillion pieces, glass and scorching air filling the room. I'm too stunned to even breathe. Motherfucker.

  Jem lingers a few seconds before removing himself from me. "Are you okay?" he asks, examining me.

  "I-I'm fine. I think," I say, voice shaking. He isn't. Tiny pinpricks of blood begin blooming on his white lab coat from the shards of glass. "You-You're--"

  "I'm fine. I'll heal in a minute."

  As we rise, car alarms wail in the distance, but I can still make out the sound of metal twisting on itself. Both our mouths drop when we view the source.

  Oh, dear God.

  Less than a quarter mile away what remains of the Pendergast Bridge is a twisting, splintering inferno. Flames shoot up from not only the unlucky cars on the bridge, but as the structure itself collapses, parts falling into the river where the hundred foot gap is. I gasp as a car that angling over the edge loses its battle and plummets as well. Black smoke billows where support beams and tension wires used to be. Another wire snaps and falls onto the already shaky bridge. Panicked people flee from their cars away from the wreckage. Jesus Christ.

  Jem's face has solidified into stone. Without a word, he dashes out of the room with me at his heels. Uninjured hospital visitors and staff help those in need away from the glass. It's pandemonium with people screaming, crying, and bleeding all over. Jem ignores them. We run toward the elevators. He pounds the button. "Come on. Come on."

  "What--"

  "I have to get to the roof. My costume's there. I have to--"

  "Oh, my God! The bomber's on TV!" someone shouts.

  Like everyone else we rush to the overhead television. One look at the cracked screen and the color drains from Jem's face. I recognize the villain from my Triumvirate research. Emperor Cain stands in a dark room surrounded by pipes illuminated only by the light on the camera. Steam rises in the background. A boiler room of some kind. The Emperor wears his black and red costume with black cowl hiding all but his mouth. From far away the outfit could be mistaken for regular clothes with black pants and red top with "EC" entwined on it complete with a black cape. Wish I had done more research on him, but I do remember he was presumed dead after their last battle nine months ago. That was what the heroes told everyone anyway.

  "…your attention," he continues. "For those of you not familiar with my work, my name is Emperor Cain, formerly of the great city of Independence, and you may be asking yourselves why I have chosen to grace the presence of this podunk, rat infested cesspool. There are three of your new residents who know the answer to this question." I glance at Jem, who if possible has grown paler. "Hello, old friends. Didn't think you were rid of me, did you? The location may change, but the game remains the same. Feeling nostalgic, yet? I was. First time for everything." He pauses. "And I do apologize to the citizens of Galilee, that you must be brought into our fray, but that is the price you pay for giving quarter to mine enemies." His smile sends a shiver down my spine. "Principal rule of warfare for those less educated: leave your enemies nowhere to go to ground. I've often alleged these quote unquote heroes they care not for the collateral damage inflicted by their antics, but today I give them a chance to prove me wrong. The Royal Triumvirate has one hour to vacate this city. For every fifteen minutes they do not comply a bomb, such as this one," he steps aside to show a huge, complex bomb with a dozen wires woven into blocks of C-4 wedged between two boilers, "will detonate in the hearts of this city, which might be closer than you think, and thousands will die." He leans toward the camera. "Citizens of Galilee Falls, are your newest so-called heroes really worth all this? I think not." The screen goes black then returns to BNN, the anchor carrying on interviewing Senator Harden as if the interruption never happened.

  Jem is so deep in thought I can practically see the gears spinning. "Jem?"

  Without a word, he runs over to the wall, smashes the plastic container for the fire alarm, and engages it. His gaze jerks to me. "We have to evacuate the hospital in the next fifteen minutes."

  I do a double take as he sprints to the stairwell. I reach him just as he enters it, and we run down. "We can't do that. This is the closest hospital to the bridge. County is four miles away. We don't even know if there's a bomb here. Besides, it'd take triple that to fully evacuate. It can't be done." People pass us in a panic, running up the stairs in the opposite direction. "Jem, are you listening to me?" I grab his lab coat. "Jem!"

  From the shock on his face, I think he'd forgotten I was here. "You shouldn't be here. You need to leave. You need to run as far and fast as possible. He--"

  "What? I'm not going anywhere."

  "You don't understand. He said, 'closer than you think.' He mentioned nostalgia. The first battle we ever had was in the boiler room at my hospital. He could be down there now."

  "Then there's no way in hell I'm letting you go down there alone."

  "Joanna--"

  I pull out my .22 from my purse. "You need back-up. No time for debate. Come on." This time I lead, but he quickly passes me. This is stupid, so stupid, but I follow anyway. I can't not.

  The stairs to the boiler room are blocked by a chain-link door that hangs open. I grip the gun tighter as we descend. The stairs end at another open door. Machines rumble though the space, so it's hard to listen for voices, if there are any. It's also dar
k, the only light emanating from the incinerators. We'll have to go in blind and deaf. Jem stands at the door to listen anyway. "Stay close," he whispers. I nod. I follow a step behind with the pistol pointed. We make it five steps when his foot hits a toolbox. I damn near leap a mile up as the tools clatter out. So much for the element of surprise. We wait a second in case of attack, but none comes. Jem retrieves the flashlight that's rolled out and switches it on. Still nothing. "This way," he whispers.

  We move through an avenue with two scalding machines on either side. When we clear them, the flashlight reveals something silver down the path. A video camera on a tripod. "Why would he leave that here?" I ask as we sprint toward it. Jem isn't listening. I glance where he stands, my stomach dropping. A bomb. A huge fucking bomb with at least ten pounds of explosives and a timer counting down the seconds. A little over twelve minutes. This thing could blow up the hospital twice over. "Fuck me."

  "I need tools," Jem says, more to himself than me.

  "We need to call the bomb squad."

  "They may not make it in time. I need tools. Wire cutters, screwdriver, electrical clips, just bring everything in the toolbox."

  "You know how to defuse bombs?" I roll my eyes at my stupidity. "Of course you do. I'll be right back."

  I run the way we came to the toolbox. I have basic knowledge of bomb squad equipment so I know all that's useful here is the exacto knife, a screwdriver, and electrical tape. With those in hand, I rush out of the boiler room in search of a utility closet or mechanical room. The utility closet is locked, so I shoot the lock. "Just me!" I shout to give Jem peace of mind. I search furiously through detergents and cleaning supplies for another tool box. Shit. The mechanical room is beyond the now empty laundry room, the staff evacuated already, and I have to shoot this lock too. I have more success here.

  When I return to the boiler room, Jem is pulling a disk out of the camera and stuffing it in his pocket. "Did you get everything?"

  "I hope so." We move over to the bomb with now less than ten minutes left. I drop my collection. "Here." He hands me the flashlight, and we bend down next to the tools. "You defused this type before?"

  "Once or twice," he says, picking up the wire cutters. "The only problem is Cain knows I have. He'll have it booby trapped. Tilt and trembler switches, anti-tamper devices, a hidden detonator or two. He will not make it easy on me." He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "I really wish you'd--"

  "Not happening. Get to work."

  He does. The bomb has almost two dozen wires and Jem examines, cuts, or ignores them all like a virtuoso whose instrument is a bomb. I try to keep my eyes off the counter but it's fucking impossible. Seconds ticking down to destruction. About a minute into this unbelievably tense process, my cell phone rings and I jerk in surprise. Jem glances at me, breath shaky. "Sorry." I pull it out to check the screen. It's Harry. "Harry?" I say into it.

  "Where are you?"

  "The hospital. The first bomb is here in the boiler room."

  "Have they found the others yet?" Jem asks.

  "Who is that?" Harry asks.

  I put Harry on speaker. "Lord Nightingale. He's defusing the bomb."

  "What? Joanna, no. Get the hell out of there. The squad's on the way. I--"

  "Tell him the other three bombs are most likely in the boiler rooms of city hall, the library, and the Justice statue, and if not found there, try the airport, The Falls, and Pendergast Industries."

  "Did you get that?" I ask Harry.

  "We found one at city hall. It's set to go off in twenty-five minutes. They're working on it now."

  "No!" Jem shouts. "There could be half a dozen anti-tamper devices or false switches. He'll have back-ups for his back-ups. I've already found two on this one. He knows your techniques and thought processes. Tell them to wait for me. I'll finish here and get to the hall as fast as I can."

  "We're not waiting--"

  "Captain O'Hara, I know how this man thinks! He wants you to try. They had to re-build the President Wayne Memorial and two bomb techs lost their lives because they underestimated him. Order them to wait!" He bobs his head to indicate that I should hang up. I do. His full attention returns to the problem at hand.

  "Do you really think there's a bomb at Pendergast?"

  He's quiet as he places clips to bypass wires, then says, "Yes. They need to evacuate."

  "They're already doing it. It's company policy to evacuate after a terrorist attack. This qualifies." I watch him work for a whole thirty seconds before I can't hold in my question anymore. "This is all for you, isn't it? It's a test for you, to get your attention."

  Silence, then, "Yes." He yanks a wire out and throws it aside.

  I pause this time as I decide if I should ask the real question. Like I could ever stop myself. "He's your brother, isn't he? Jordan?" For the first time, Jem stops working and looks at me, mouth slack. "You both have the same, exact smile and voice."

  "Oh." Jem returns to work, slowly starting up. "After Uma, I went looking for him. Scowered the globe, but he…" He shakes his head. "It was a fool's errand. If my brother doesn't want to be found, he won't be. After a year, I gave up. I took a post in Independence but something had changed. I couldn't sleep, I barely ate, the bitterness and frustration were eating me alive.

  "Then one night, it had to be three in the morning, I was walking the streets as I often did when I came across a pimp beating a prostitute in an alley. For a second I thought about continuing on. Then she noticed me, met my eyes, and blind rage overtook me. I beat the man within an inch of his life. But…for the first time in over a year I felt as if I could breathe again. So I went out the next night, then the one after that. While I was out patrolling, I felt close to content. Then one night I was almost arrested, so I commissioned a suit. Became 'The Nightingale' after my favorite Keats poem. A few months after that, we formed the Triumvirate and the work really began."

  "Then Jordan resurfaced."

  "Yes. Because I was happy," he says, words dripping with venom, "or as close as I ever could be. I had moved on, found a measure of peace, and he couldn't bear that. I was respected, and he had to tear me down. Destroying a city and killing over a hundred people were just, as he said, collateral damage. He was actually upset I was helping people as I was. It was exactly what our father had wanted, why he tortured us for years. Made us train, pushed us over our limits. 'How could I?' my brother asked." Jem scoffs. "It was another betrayal. We'd sworn we'd never use our not so God given gifts if we could help it. Just because we were made to be freaks didn't mean that would be our fate. He acted as if I had spit in his face. I had to be taught a lesson."

  "He sounds like a fucking psychopath," I say.

  "That's what nine out of ten of out psychiatrists said," he says, snipping a wire. "I'm just so sorry for all this. I thought he--" He shakes his head and cuts another wire. "This shouldn't have happened."

  "It's not your fault."

  He quickly glimpses at me. "Yes…it is." He takes a deep breath, wipes his sweaty brow and continues working. "I think I've almost finished. You should leave now."

  "I told you twelve times I'm not going anywhere."

  "Joanna--"

  "If you're here, I'm here. End of discussion."

  "Don't be so damn--"

  "I am not leaving you!" I shout. "I'm not. So save your damn breath."

  His mouth sets straight. "The-The problem is there are two wires I can cut, and I don't know which is the correct one. Look."

  I move over beside him. In the tangle of wires, I view a white and black wire inside a second timer. Both are positioned exactly the same. "Oh."

  "You have less than five minutes to clear the building. Please go."

  And for a second I do consider the option. Running away and leaving him in this dark basement with a bomb to potentially die alone attempting to save thousands of lives. But I can't. The thought of losing him too…nope. I'd rather die. "Choose," I say.

  "What?"

  "
Do it. I'm right here."

  His eyes search mine for something. I just smile. "If I'm wrong, I'm killing hundreds still in the building," he whispers.

  I cover his hand holding the clippers with mine. "Then we'll do it together. It's on both of us. Choose."

  "But--"

  "Just…trust."

  He glances down at my hand on his, then back at my smiling face. The fear vanishes into the ether. With his free hand, Jem grabs the back of my neck and pulls my mouth hungrily against his. Our lips are so in line, it's as if they're made for one another. As we devour each other, I run my hand through his soft, thick curls like I've been wanting to since we first met a year ago. A kiss to die for.

  He draws away first, completely breathless from the need. We just stare into each other's eyes for a few seconds before grinning in unison. "Sorry," he says, "I just didn't want to leave this earth without doing that at least once."

  "I know exactly how you feel," I say before going back for seconds. It's a little softer this time but just as wonderful. I can die a happy girl right now. I'd rather not, but still.

  We break apart a few seconds later and look at the bomb in unison. As me move our entwined hands toward it, the oddest sensation washes over me. I've never felt it before. Serenity. Faith. I know, I know that we're going to be okay. That this is not the end. Not by a long shot. We aren't dying today. Don't know how I know, but I do. I rest my head on Jem's shoulder as his free arm wraps around me, pulling me in close. We position the clippers on the black wire, and I take the other handle. "Ready?" he asks. I nod. "On three. One…two…" I bury my face into the crook of his neck, and he squeezes me even tighter. Oh please, oh please… "Three."

  Snip.

  Nothing happens. At least I think nothing happens because this close to the bomb I wouldn't feel a thing if it exploded. But I'm breathing and Jem's fingers are digging into my side hard enough I'll bruise, and I doubt heaven or even hell stinks like a boiler room, so I'm pretty sure we're alive. I open my eyes and stare at the bomb. The counter's stopped. The bomb's intact. We did it. Never had a doubt.