I want to fight him, to find Zeus, but I clench my jaws instead. I feel empty, disturbed, and afraid. Zeus was the only comfort I had—the only piece of happiness I clung to. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to him.
With each explosion, I jerk, then close my eyes and pray. The walls rattle around me. I try to make myself invisible by pressing harder into the wall, making myself less of a target. Debris smashes to the floor from the ceiling. I stare up at it, wondering how long it’ll hold. A steady thrumming buzzes in my ears. I catch eyes with Keegan. His are stony and flat, his body rigid as he flings through his meager supplies. I hear the tamping of feet go by and Keegan whips around, facing the door with his gun at the ready. I hold my breath, waiting for it to pass. I wonder if anything will be left for us in an hour. Remembering my ring, I twist it around nervously. But the words inscribed on it don’t bring me peace like they usually do. In fact, I think about the odds. The Hole’s filled with thousands of people—weak, starving, beaten-down sinners. Is it even possible to dream we can liberate it? But then I shake the doubts away. I have to believe the best. I have to trust in the plan Sutton put forth. Even if parts of it fail.
Time ticks by. It feels like months before Keegan rises to put his hand on the knob.
We listen, and there’s no sound outside. He slides the door open and listens again. Nothing. He motions and we creep forward into the hallway. Or what’s left of it.
Large holes have been punched into the walls from explosions and bodies sprawl in awkward positions on the floor. There aren’t as many as I would’ve thought, though I don’t know how anyone could’ve survived. Ironically, I feel lucky. But the revelation also makes me feel slightly guilty for surviving. As I step over the bodies, I can see their blood trickling into puddles, pooling around them. I smell death with its heavy lead fingers encircling all of us.
Keegan kneels down, searching for more ammunition and scowls when he finds nothing that matches his weapon. I avert my eyes to keep from recognizing anyone I might’ve known. I’ve already got enough gory images imprinted in my memory.
Light filters in some of the rooms where the ceiling crumbles and rubble forms small mountains. Not a soul is in sight. I feel naked holding on to my small handgun. Keegan turns right down another hallway, staying close to the wall.
Another large doorway was blasted through, so I know Isaac made it this far. I pull my jacket up over my nose to prevent myself from breathing more particles and drop it once I realize it’s impossible to avoid. An open doorway on the left snatches my attention.
Holding my gun ready, I peek in.
It’s a bedroom. It would be beautiful if not for the holes blown through it. In the corner, on a platform, sits a large king-sized bed draped with a cream and silver embroidered comforter. A crystal chandelier hangs by electrical wires from the ceiling. I bet it looked amazing once.
I continue following Keegan, going room by room, scouting for the commander. We have to be close to his personal quarters according to the maps we studied during training. Doors line the hallway lit only by the sunlight filtering in from the devastation around us. We see more and more rooms, each one becoming more opulent than the last. Precious artwork dangles from the walls if not blown to pieces completely. I recognize some of the paintings with regret. Disgust rises in me, imagining the commander entertaining wealthy people here while sinners die of starvation just outside.
Keegan taps my shoulder and I jump, turning and slamming my back flat against the wall behind me. He motions for me to go first.
I hold my gun close to my face and hug the walls as I tiptoe over pieces of broken glass, contorted bodies, and cement blocks. A guard lays to my left, his body resting against the wall. He looks peaceful like he’s taking a nap on a Sunday afternoon.
Keegan squats, roughly lifts the guard’s torso, and takes his extra ammunition. Slamming a new magazine into place, we move forward. Popping sounds echo from farther in the residence.
I creep around the corner and see another long hallway ahead. This place seems to be made of nothing but hallways. In the distance is a small staircase leading to another floor. A guard peeks out from the entrance, and fires off three shots at us. Keegan yanks me into a room off the hall and fires back. More bullets reverberate off the walls with loud bangs. I fire back while reaching around the door with my small handgun until the magazine is empty. Keegan shakes his head, leans out again, and lets his gun loose, spraying everything in front of us. Bullets riddle the passage, atomizing anything within the hall, from bodies to splinters of furniture. Next time I glance, the guard’s body splays at the foot of the stairs, punctured from head to foot, his entrails hanging out.
I want to throw up, but intuition pulls me to the staircase. Keegan puts his hand on my shoulder, and I nod my head, motioning to move forward. I step over the corpse, and lead Keegan up the dark, steep stairs.
An unnatural light filters out of the room at the top. I motion for Keegan to halt, and we stand on the top step, outside the doorway. He wraps his hand around the handle and slowly cracks it open. His eyes lock with mine, and I nod, allowing him to go in first. My nerves dance as I follow him closely. The dark marble flooring is covered with chunks of drywall and leads into another room. Carefully planting my feet around more bodies, we stop at the next closed door. Keegan pushes it open, and I crawl in, hearing others. On his elbows, Keegan follows.
A heated conversation takes place between two men, both voices I recognize. Chills run down my spine as I lean in to get a better view.
“Brother, what a pleasant surprise! I’m so glad you could join me.”
“Oh, cut the crap!”
“You know, I must say I’ve never given you enough credit. It never occurred to me that my own blood would betray me. You’re such a waste of life. It’s disgusting actually,” he says. “I should’ve known you’d side with that idiot.”
This must be the commander’s control room. Four large screens, various computers, and maps decorate the room. The screens cast a fuzzy light, but there’s no image, just white noise. A large, formidable character stands against the brightness. I see his silhouette, but I can’t make out his features. His voice rattles me to the core, the familiar taste of bile rising in the back of my throat. He waves a gun through the air as he yells.
Keegan and I make eye contact. In that glance, we both understand we’re witnessing something important—something the others obviously missed.
“You’ve abused the system enough. You’re consumed by the power of your position. You’re not the brother I grew up with. You’re not the person I used to know,” Sutton replies. “Hamilton saw that before I did. He was right.”
I peek under a table and see Sutton standing before the dark silhouette. Confusion rocks me. I crawl farther in under the cover of large desks and computers. The blank, blaring noise is just enough to cover our movement but not loud enough to hinder the exchange of words. I duck my head down and struggle to keep my composure.
Sutton has a brother?
“So I’d like to know… how exactly do you plan on taking over?” The silhouette says in a condescending manner. “I’m suddenly curious how you think your little so-called army could manage to take mine out?” He clears his throat.
His army?
“Tell me, please. Enlighten me,” the other man says. “Do you honestly think by killing me that you’ll save the world? You’re pathetic.” He laughs.
Oh my gosh, that must mean…
“You do realize another leader will just take over where I’ve left off?”
The commander is Sutton’s brother.