Adam pushes a gun into his temple. “Cancel the order.” He holds the watch out, but Towley doesn’t even look at it. “Cancel the order!”
“I can’t. It’s done.”
“Lorrell, anything?” Cal asks, expressing all our hopes that the best Tech in the country can make this madness end.
Lorrell lowers her head into her hands and weeps. “This could take us hours.”
“I’ve won,” Towley preens. “Now, you can kill me.”
Something bristles in the sobbing woman as if she has been electrocuted by his words. “If your goal was to murder numerous, innocent people, then yes you have,” Lorrell replies, wiping her tears on the back of her hands. “But as for our cause… anything but. Wave to your country, Mr Prime Minister.”
Our eyes follow hers to the cameras hanging in the corners of the hangar. She broadcast it all. She cleared our name- my name.
Towley slumps onto the cold floor and says no more. Adam’s gun trembles against his temple.
Taking his wrist, I guide it away from Towley. “He has finished himself.” I gesture to the snivelling man who has just put the noose around his own neck.
Adam’s lip quivers. “I want to do it for you- for them.”
I take the gun out of his hand and pass it to Rafe. “That won’t help them.”
The hangar comes alive with the panicked voices of soldiers expressing their concerns for loved ones in London. Yes, this is who your Prime Minister is. This is the man who has been pulling the wool over your eyes. We tried to show you. I’ve tried to help… I sound like I’ve given up.
No way.
I don’t quit.
“Where are the missiles located?” I race toward the computers, making head nor tail of what I’m looking at.
Kesh shrugs, despondent. “I’m searching the satellite imaging.”
I shift from foot to foot. “And how long until they’re launched?”
“I don’t know, Teddie!” he snaps. “They could be in the air for all we know!”
Adam places a reassuring hand on the back of Kesh’s neck. “The best thing we can do now is get to London to aid them in the aftermath. The stealth planes are ready. We’ll be there in no time.”
“Theyda,” shouts a voice from the pen. Dawes stands against the metal fencing. “You have to do something. Please, do something.”
“We’ll do whatever we can,” I say, sprinting away before I think too much on his comment and what is resting on our shoulders. I’m EVO, not a bloody miracle worker. What can I possibly do?
Adam follows, calling names and TORO numbers as he runs. Rafe does the same for the Shift crew. The quiet engines of the planes whir as bodies climb up the back ramps.
Kesh races after Adam with his laptop under his arm, whilst Lorrell remains behind to man the system from this end.
“I’ll watch him,” Yana hisses, bending over Towley and making a face. “Do you remember me, huh?”
Still, Towley howls in realisation that he has well and truly lost.
Fernan calls to me as I ascend the ramp. She desperately clings to Darcy’s scruff to stop him following me. “We’ll broadcast again to try and get people to safety. After everything that has gone down, make sure you stay safe.”
The ramps on the three stealth planes, each holding five EVO, not including the pilots, start to close. We strap ourselves in with a sense of unabated dread. Adam, Kesh, and the two TORO just stare at each other, unsure of what the hell we’re heading into, or what London might look like when we arrive. Adam’s fingers lace with mine, and I take a deep breath.
No one wins today.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
I squeeze Adam’s hand and grip the edge of my seat with the other. The plane may be stealth, but I can feel the speed, the force holding me into my chair.
“Kesh?” Adam asks for an update.
Kesh taps furiously at the keypad, and then pushes the laptop away suddenly, almost sending it crashing to the floor. His lip trembles as he turns the screen toward us. The hollow look in his eyes is haunting. “They’re airborne. Estimated time until impact… three minutes.”
Adam sighs, hanging his head. “Let’s hope Fernan has broadcast. Perhaps some people may have found somewhere safe- the tubes maybe.”
“She has broadcast,” replies Kesh. “Look.”
News footage shows a London in panic. News choppers film the carnage of traffic, running civilians, and even looting. Some people stare at the skies and pray. The news roll across the bottom of the screen says it all. ‘Breaking news: PM Towley sacrificed London in a bid to sully the EVO Name. Towley responsible for hospital bombings. How long does London have?”
A crying woman holding a baby lifts one edge of a white sheet, whilst another woman lifts the other end. I burst into tears at what has been written across the sheet in black marker pen. ‘Save us, Theyda.’
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. Adam grips my hand tighter. “I feel so helpless.”
“ETA is thirty-two seconds. No sign of bogeys in the air.” The TORO pilot calls back.
“Do one fly over,” Adam orders. “Then we wait outside the blast radius.”
“Can we not intercept?” I ask. There has to be something we can do.
Every face on the plane gawps at me.
“Intercept how? With what?” TORO 94 asks, eye brows nearly disappearing into his hair line.
“I don’t know. Bail out and fly the planes into them? Anything! God, why is no one trying?”
Adam slides his hand over my cheek and turns my face to him. “The chances of us timing such a stunt with all three planes would be slim to none. And we’d be no use to London.”
“They want me to save them,” I cry. “They’re asking for my help, and I can do nothing but watch.” I scream and shake my chair, pre-empting the guilt and grief I shall feel when those missiles hit. “What have I done that is so bad, huh? Why put me here, right now. Why make me watch them die?”
“Approaching destination, Chief. We’ll circle the perimeter,” says the pilot. “I shall radio through to the news choppers and tell them to get their asses out of … Bogeys in the air! Bogeys in the air!”
“If my calculations are correct, all stealth planes are still inside the blast radius,” Kesh shouts. “Impact in fifteen seconds.”
“Get out of the blast radius,” Adam bellows.
Adam looks to me, the same heart wrenching fear and realisation washes through him as it does me: all those people. The thought of those poor souls down there, praying for us to save them is too much.
“We can’t just let them die,” I sob. “Adam, we can’t.”
“Stealth One- outside the blast radius,” the pilot shouts back. “Stealth Two- outside the blast radius.
“Impact in ten seconds,” Kesh barks, sweat dripping from his face and onto his laptop.
“We can try and stop them.” I grip his hand releasing a small blast of telekinesis and making the plane shudder. “We are stronger together.”
In that split second, it is as if Adam and I join wholly and completely. Every instinct and ability become one. Without words, without images, without memories, I know what is in his heart. He takes my hand, feeling the exact same wave of emotion flood through me. This is our purpose.
“Open the bay door!” he bellows.
There are shouts of protest, but the pilot obeys the Chief’s orders. The rush of air steals what little I have in my lungs.
“Get this craft clear of the area. That’s an order!”
“What the hell are you doing?” Kesh hollers over the rush of wind.
Adam ignores him and looks into my eyes. “Significant,” he whispers into my mind.
.
.
We jump.
.
.
The blast of air whips us away from each other. I tumble at speed, unable to catch my breath or see Adam in my spin. What the hell have we done? Just as a panic grips at my chest, his body slams into mine.
All the air is knocked from my lungs, but I don’t care. He has me.
“Together,” he says. “Now, Teddie.”
I know what I have to do. I know his intention as if it were my own. If we die, we die together. They survive, we die. That’s okay. We both raise a hand toward the heavens, and as the telekinesis fills me up, that same feeling of unabated power courses through our conjoined bodies. Every part of me is bursting with power. That has always been our strength… love. Our purpose.
London is below us, but its destruction whistles above us. Three missiles pierce the clouds. I blast our unfathomable power from my body- from our bodies that feel as one. I crush myself against him, pressing my face into his chest.
“I love you- I love you- I love you,” I say.
We both look up as the missiles hit into our force field. It visibly crackles and pulses with electricity, and then… bang. Orange, yellow, and black firework against our shield of pure willpower. The explosions tear through me as I fight the need to release the telekinesis.
“Hold… on,” Adam says through the strain.
Never have I been under such force. Hot wetness runs from my nose and over my lips. So, this is what my death feels like. A strange, warped noise similar to a sonic boom resounds in the heavens as the missiles destroy themselves and our telekinetic force field crashes with them. My body and mind scream from the effort, and I feel Adam slip away from me just like the daylight does. I no longer feel him. I’m alone. I’m falling.
“Is this it?” I ask him.
“Thank you for being mine,” he whispers back.
“Forever yours.”
The murky green of the Thames flashes through my vision. I attempt to muster a little energy to slow my momentum. I’m aware of a raging pain in my head, icy water, and a stagnant smell. Water covers my face, then there is air again. I can’t process much in my disoriented state: Inflatable lifeboat. River patrol. Cheering. Shouting. Birds squawking.
The first boat pulls someone out of the water, and the crew begin CPR.
Adam.
“Don’t leave me,” I whisper in my mind. “Don’t leave me.”
“We’ve got you,” call the figures jumping into the water beside me. “Theyda, can you hear me?”
I keep my eyes on the other boat. More water gushes over my face.
“Please, Adam.”
I would feel it if he dies. I would feel it if he leaves me alone in this river. Just before another wave floods over my head, and arms enclose on me, I see Adam lurch forward, spluttering up a gut full of river water. I take what feels like the deepest breath, my body shuddering with sobs as many hands grasp at me.
I’m out of the water. The smell of the rubbery boat fills my senses. People in orange jackets hang over me. A cold hand touches my cheek as a light is shone into my eyes.
“You’re safe, Theyda. We’ve got you,” a voice says into my ear. It is the voice of a stranger. “Thank you,” he says.
“He lied about everything. I don’t hate you,” I sob, warm tears gushing over my cheeks. They have to see that, especially now. “I don’t hate you.”
A female coastguard wraps an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in close to her. “Calm down, Darling. It’s over.”
The stranger covers me in what appears to be aluminium foil. I look in her eyes for something other than what she says, but she is genuine. She sees me. They see me.
The weird silence of our mutual understanding is punctured by shouts from the other boat.
“Teddie! I need to see her. Get off of me. Let me see her!”
“Teddie?”
“Mr Lovick, please, lie down. You’ve been through—”
I sit up on my elbow, my head spinning with the motion. Adam’s frantic face drains of worry as his eyes meet mine.
“We did it,” I say.
He wipes at the droplets clinging to his beautiful face. “We did it,” he shouts, standing in the boat and throwing his arms in the air. He nearly topples overboard if not for one of the crew members grabbing him by the belt.
Cheers, shouts, and clapping fill the air around us. I dare a look at the mass of people gathered at the sides of the river; thousands of faces overcome with joy and relief.
“We did it!” Adam shouts at them, punching the air.
Their cheers reach deafening pitch in reply. News choppers swoop in low, and air rescue helicopters hover above us. Even the army - the Non EVO army - help escort us from the water.
“We actually did it,” I say under my breath.
The female coastguard straps me to a stretcher. “And we are eternally grateful to you both.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Two Months Later
The past two months have been a blur. Adam and I have to stay in London to be part of the ‘recovery mission’ as it is being called. There is a long way to go before the country has any semblance of normality, but now the new government has been established with Rafe, Fernan, Minster Fred De’Laney, Minister Alaina Cox, and a number of EVO and Non-EVO ministers, progress is being made.
De’Laney is acting Prime Minister, and looks likely to keep the title according to Rafe. For them, the hard work is far from over, but for us, we have to spend however long it may be playing heroes, smiling and waving to cameras and crowds. I don’t relish the idea, but it is nothing in comparison to what we’ve already been through. If this helps Rafe and the country, then so be it.
Adam has fallen asleep listening to me read. It’s pretty much a dead cert that if he has eaten late, that he’ll fall asleep if I read to him. He hasn’t had any nightmares lately, despite Leoni offering, once again, to manipulate some of his memories. Adam has dealt with his demons by facing them. I’m proud of him.
Once I’m sure he’s in a deep sleep, I grab my sketch book and pastels. The main reason for my sketching in secret is the topic. I draw to get it all out, and I’m drawing what I remember of that day: the fall, the missiles exploding against our telekinetic force field, the river... That moment in the river when I thought he was dead terrified me. Drawing it is like therapy, much like writing in a diary. Tonight, I take to drawing the sky as I remember it from the bottom of the boat, the black smoke strangling the grey clouds. It looks awful, like the end of days, but I remember lying there and telling myself that I was the person I wanted to be. I didn’t have to kill Towley. I didn’t have to become the monster he had told the country I was. I am their hero. Adam is their hero. Perhaps, one day, I’ll display these sketches. For now, they’re my way of processing.
Towley is awaiting trial. There are others: Hollister, researchers, big wigs in the old army, and even a couple of ministers. Anyone who was more than just a gofer acting on orders will be tried for the atrocities committed in this war. Apparently, the extent of the horrors that they’re now unearthing is far greater than what anyone could have imagined. I’ve been spared the details, but my brain runs wild in my dreams.
Martial law will continue for the time being, and there is a no tolerance stance on hate crimes from both sides.
The gang have been visiting in drips and drabs. Everyone is trying to sort their lives out. Most have gone back to The Hive to recoup and assess their next move. Leoni is living in the apartment with us whilst we’re in London. She has been a great help with Darcy when we’ve been away.
My Mum drops by fortnightly. Jude has her on a short leash and in a rehab program. The temptation is back now alcohol is easily accessible, but she’s still dry, and if I have to try that little harder to mend our relationship to keep her on the wagon, then I will.
Putting my pastels away, I slip into the bed beside Adam and wrap my arm over his solid frame. He sleepily pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles.
“I love you- I love you- I love you,” I whisper against the warm skin of his back.
“I love you- I love you- I love you,” he replies in my head.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Eighteen Months Later
I wipe my sweating palms on my dress and take my posy from Emiko. She fusses with the curls that fall around my face, although, my hair is the least of my worries. It’s the first time I have ever worn a full-length gown and wedged heels. I’ve had to practise wearing them for three weeks prior. Don’t trip on your dress, Teddie. Don’t break your ankle in the heels. Glide and smile, glide and smile, is on repeat in my head.
The organ starts playing, everyone falls into formation with me leading the procession, and the large, wooden door creaks open onto a church full of smiling faces. Glide and smile, Teddie.
Candles line the length of the aisle. No one said anything about naked flames. Oh, hell. Glide and smile and don’t catch alight, Teddie.
Leoni catches my attention from her seat beside Rafe. She inhales deeply, reminding me to breathe. This is not my idea of a good time, but I can put up with the gown, heels, and potential fire hazards for one special day.
The church is old and beautiful. I couldn’t have picked a prettier venue, and the rosy cheeked vicar offers me a warm smile.
The other face smiling back at me is the face of the most excited, nervous, nauseous groom in Britain. He looks so dapper in a fitted suit and cravat, freshly cut hair, shaved face, and shining, tan shoes. I wink at him, and he gives one back. However, it’s not me he has been waiting to see. Crow is a lucky guy and he knows it.
Hurrying the final steps to my position at the left of the alter, followed by Emiko and October, we all turn to witness the bride’s descent down the aisle. Yana is stunning in a flowing, beaded gown. Her hair is tied in a braid around her head, dotted with fresh flowers that match those in her bouquet. She clings to Adam’s arm as he leads her down the aisle. He whispers something to her that makes her smile. He cried when she asked him to give her away, and he hasn’t lived it down since. When she asked me to be her maid of honour, it was more of a squealing, screaming affair of jumping around and setting to planning the best hen party ever.
I take a peek at Crow. He has the best look on his face. It’s a mix of pure love and ‘my luck has come in’. There’s nothing better than looking back to see the groom’s reaction.
EVO Nation Series Trilogy Box Set Page 89