Home > Captive (The Blackcoat Rebellion #2)(63)

Captive (The Blackcoat Rebellion #2)(63)
Author: Aimee Carter

Once he knelt on the dirt floor facing away from me, he put his good hand on the back of his head, and I finally dared to move. Picking up the nearest syringe, I uncapped it with my teeth and wasted no time crossing the distance between us. The needle was half an inch from his neck when he spoke.

“When I don’t come back, they’ll go looking for me,” he said. “You can’t hide down here forever.”

“Luckily for you, you’ll be asleep.” With that, I shoved the needle into his neck and pressed the plunger. He groaned, but a heartbeat later, he collapsed face-first into the dirt.

I waited several seconds to make sure his chest was rising and falling steadily before I picked up the sling he’d discarded. I tucked my arm safely inside it, along with the syringes he’d dropped. I stuck his other weapon in my pocket, but when I turned to rejoin Benjy and the others, I hesitated.

He was right. Others would come looking for this tunnel when he didn’t come back, and there was already someone guarding the entrance. If two guards had slipped through the Blackcoats’ defenses, there was no telling how many more would join them.

I took a deep breath. Benjy or the Blackcoats. My own chance at survival, or theirs.

Death is inevitable for all of us. The only thing that really matters in the end is how we choose to live.

From the moment I’d handed Scotia those codes, I’d made my decision. Being a coward wasn’t part of it.

I looked once more into the darkness and said a silent goodbye to Benjy. If I made it out of this alive, he was going to kill me.

With that, I picked up the guard’s flashlight and started back toward the entrance to the tunnel. If anyone tried to go after those kids, they were going to have to go through me first.

XVI
EXECUTION

Ten feet from the entrance to the tunnel, I crouched in the darkness and eyed the guard who stood amongst the shattered remnants of the cabinet. He, too, was young, and he kicked a piece of wood, holding his hands above his head in victory when it skittered to the other side of the room.

Before he could lower them, I crawled out of the tunnel and jammed a second needle in his neck. By the time he turned around and saw my face, the tranquilizer was already pumping through his veins.

“You...” His eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed.

I closed the door of the tunnel behind me. There was nothing I could do to hide the guard’s unconscious body, not when he had a good eighty pounds on me, but I could conceal the opening of the tunnel. Dragging one of the metal tables over to the corner, I shoved it against the wall and hastily scattered a few tools on the shining surface, doing my best to make it look used. It wasn’t the best hiding job in the world, especially not with the guard lying unconscious right in front of it. But with any luck, if anyone else came down here, it would buy Benjy and the others a few more minutes.

Once everything was done, I looked around the workshop. I had two guns now, along with enough tranquilizers hidden in my sling to take care of anyone stupid enough to get too close. If I stayed at the base of the stairs—

A scream echoed through the house, and I tensed. Hannah.

My feet were moving before I had the chance to think. Adrenaline shot through me, and I scrambled up the steps, making as little noise as possible.

The foyer was empty. Heavy silence settled over me, and seconds ticked by. Maybe I’d imagined it, or maybe it hadn’t been a scream at all. Or maybe Hannah was dead, and—

A muffled sob echoed down the grand staircase. Drawing my gun, I crept up along one side to the second floor, careful not to make a sound.

“Where is she?” Mercer’s voice cracked like a whip in the distance. “This is your last chance.”

“I don’t know,” sobbed Hannah. “I don’t know.”

“You do know—you know exactly what’s going on. You’ve known the whole time, haven’t you?”

“Of course not! How could you even think—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

The unmistakable sound of a slap echoed down the hallway, followed by silence. I tiptoed past Knox’s room. The door to the Augusta Suite was ajar, and I peeked inside.

Hannah sat at the foot of the pink-and-gold bed, her knees drawn to her chest as she quietly sobbed. This close, I could see half a dozen bloody gashes running across her face, and one of her eyes was swollen shut. Mercer stood over her, wielding a butcher’s knife.

Fury boiled inside my veins, and I gripped my gun. One shot. That was all it would take.

But as I raised the weapon, a shout echoed from the foyer, and a door slammed shut. “Mercer!” called a booming voice.

Mercer looked up, and I only barely managed to duck out of the doorway. “Up here,” he called, and added in a mutter, “This better be important.”

I darted into the second stairwell, the one that led to the back of the house, and crouched low. Heavy footsteps thudded against the carpeted hallway as someone came running, breathing heavily.

“Sir,” he said, his voice much closer now. I hid my head between my knees, praying he didn’t come down this way. “We have her.”

I frowned. They couldn’t have been talking about me, so who—

My breath caught in my throat.

Scotia.

“It’s about time,” said Mercer. “Watch my wife. If she tries to escape, kill her.”

I listened as Mercer strode down the hallway in the opposite direction, toward the foyer instead of the stairway where I was hiding. I waited until the front door opened and shut, and then, once I was as sure as I could be that Mercer was gone, I rose and crept back down the hall.

The door to the Augusta Suite was wide-open now, and a guard stood in the doorway facing Hannah, his feet planted a shoulder width apart as he clutched his rifle. I sneaked closer, my footsteps silent as I came up behind the guard and peeked into the room.

Hannah sat on the bed, and her feet brushed the carpet as she stared off into the distance, her expression unreadable. I didn’t wait for her to see me. Taking a third syringe, I stabbed the guard in the neck and dosed him. Once again, he fell to the ground, and I jumped over him.

“Are you okay?” I said, hurrying over to Hannah. She scrambled to her feet, her mouth hanging open.

“Lila—Kitty?” she said, stunned, and she wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. “It’s really you? Jonathan said—I thought you were dead.”

So they had been talking about Scotia. My determination turned to steel, and I hugged back before letting go. “I’m fine,” I said. “Are you okay?”

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