This Town Is Not All Right
Page 22
Malcolm blinked open his eyes. Harsh white light greeted him. He sat up, groaning at the pain that tore through his body. He touched his temple, and his fingers came away wet with blood. He looked around. White walls, bulletproof glass, concrete floor—he was inside the Sov’s underwater prison.
He pushed himself up to his feet, feeling frantically for his cell phone in his pants pocket. But, of course, it was gone.
Beacon and Everleigh—a wave of anguish shot through him. When he last saw them, the elevator doors were closing and they were making their escape. Did they get free? Had he managed to stall the Sov long enough for them to get away? Or had they been captured, too? Or worse . . .
Were they dead?
The thought sent another wave of anguish through him. He raked his hand through his hair, pacing his cell. He screamed. He yelled. He kicked the glass walls.
Nothing happened. No one came. His kids were in danger, and there was nothing he could do.
He stopped himself short. No—he couldn’t give up already. He just had to think. The Sov hadn’t killed him. Back in the tunnels, after he’d failed Victor’s orders to stop the kids from escaping at any cost, they could have killed him then. Instead, Victor had approached him. Victor hadn’t said a word—just gestured to a Sov soldier with deadly calm, and the soldier had raised a laser gun to Malcolm’s head. Before he could blink, before he could react, blue light split the air, and everything went black.
And now he was here.
Victor had spared him for a reason. Which meant he would be back. And when he came, Malcolm would have his chance.
Time passed, and he began to doubt his theory. Maybe Victor had just wanted him to suffer for his failure? For scheming to free Arthur? He shook his head. He never should have agreed to come back to this ship. What had he been thinking, agreeing to Beacon’s cockamamie plan? He should have told Beacon that his friend wasn’t important—that the only thing that mattered was the three of them. He should have forced them to leave this town. What did it matter if his kids hated him, if they were alive?
A long beep sounded. He whirled around just as a door in the white walls slid open. Victor stepped through.
“Good evening, Malcolm.”
Malcolm rushed forward, just as two Sov guards stepped in behind Victor. They raised their guns, and Malcolm stopped in his tracks. All of his plans slipped away like sand through his fingers. What had he thought he was going to do? He was weaponless, powerless.
The door closed. Victor gestured for his guards to hang back, then stepped forward.
“Let me out of here,” Malcolm demanded. Victor didn’t bother to answer him. He stepped closer, squinting shrewdly at Malcolm’s face, until Malcolm stepped back awkwardly, fighting the urge to cross his arms.
“What are you doing” Malcolm asked.
Victor circled him, looking at him from all angles.
Finally, he stopped in front of him and stared deeply into Malcolm’s eyes. Malcolm gasped. Victor’s eyes—they were moving. The dark brown irises swirled like melted chocolate in a vat. They swirled and clouded until they were a hazy light blue.
The rest happened so fast.
Bones shrunk, shifted, crunched into place. Muscle absorbed, ligaments stretched and reshaped. Skin paled and withered, hair lightened and fell away. It was all so seamless. One minute, he was Victor, and the next, he had shape-shifted into an exact replica of Malcolm. The real Malcolm gasped. It was like looking in a mirror.
“Thank you,” Victor said, his voice a perfect match to Malcolm’s own. “This will make everything so much easier.” He turned on his heel. The Sov guards parted to allow him to pass, and the door snicked open again. Malcolm rushed forward.
“Wait! Where are you going? Come back here!”
Victor turned in the doorway.
“Sorry, Malcolm. I have dinner plans. I could really go for some crinkle-cut fries.”
He winked, and then the cell doors shut behind them.
About the Author
M.K. Krys (as Michelle Krys) is the author of Hexed, Charmed, and Dead Girls Society. When she's not writing books, Michelle moonlights as a NICU nurse. She lives in Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada, with her family. You can visit her online at michellekrys.com and follow Michelle on Facebook and Twitter.
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