Archie made eye contact with each of them before continuing:
“You’re all okay with this, right? Good.”
And with that, he wrapped the fingers of both hands firmly around the edge of the door.
“Cover me.”
With almost superhuman strength, Archie wrenched open the door and dove in.
But the guards were ready for him.
The Prisonmaster told X-Ray:
“Under the table. Pull up the tile. Use any key to unlock them. Do it now.”
X-Ray quickly unlocked two weapons, keeping one for himself and passing the other to Whiskey. Now each of them had a device that resembled an electrified barbecue fork. The two prongs could be inserted deep into tissue and deliver a shock that was beyond any human being’s threshold of pain. Instant bodily shutdown.
Archie charged straight at them.
Whiskey and X-Ray braced themselves, weapons behind their backs.
They did not relish this moment.
They knew the devices in their hands could potentially kill the prisoners, and they did not consider themselves to be killers.
In fact, before they were brought to this place, they were considered heroes.
Whiskey’s real name was Mathilde Aslanides, and she’d made a career out of keeping people from harm. If your name appeared on a hit list, and the authorities failed or refused to protect you, Mathilde would. She knew how to hide, she knew how to fight, and until a team of vengeful assassins cornered her in a nasty Brazilian favela, she had helped save the lives of more than one hundred people. Her life was about preventing death, not becoming its agent.
In his former life, X-Ray worked on the flip side, helping people after their deaths. Under his real name—Lucas Dabrock—X-Ray was an expert at determining the real cause of any given death—not just what presented on the surface, not what the killers wanted you to think. If he was unable to prevent a death, then at least he could find and help punish those responsible—the ones who thought they could get away with it. Dabrock had been one of the most brilliant and sought-after pathologists in the world…until his enemies had conspired to bring him here, to this place of madness.
Now X-Ray held his weapon steady, knowing exactly where he needed to stab in order to take down the prisoner who was coming at them full bore.
At the last moment Archie dropped straight down and executed a kicking spin that knocked both guards off their feet.
In the confused tangle of bodies Archie stayed focused enough to grab one electrified barbecue fork, and, in a smooth efficient motion, plunge it into X-Ray’s testicles. X-Ray’s mouth made an O. Archie seized the other electrified barbecue fork just as Whiskey was about to plunge it into his heart. Whiskey was smart, determined, and excellent in battle. But she did not have Archie’s upper-arm strength. It was not a matter of skill; this was down to muscle. And Archie was able to turn the fork around and jab it between Whiskey’s breasts.
He triggered both electrified barbecue forks at the same moment. Both guards screamed, almost in harmony, albeit off-key.
Archie dropped the forks, scrambled up from the floor, and immediately began jogging toward the elevator vestibule.
Both X-Ray and Whiskey made a halfhearted effort to scramble after their prisoner, but they were in too much pain to move. Archie slammed the elevator-cage door shut. The guards screamed in terror. They knew what this meant.
This was death for all of them!
Archie smiled, gave him them the finger, then began to ascend.
Hardie heard the creaking, throbbing mechanism of the ancient elevator system reverberate throughout the entire facility, the screams and moans of the guards.
So this was how it was going to end.
Who was Hardie kidding? For him, everything had ended three years and God knows how many months ago—when he let Nate Parish and his family die, and when he’d survived by some quirk of medical fate. All this time he’d been a walking dead man.
A guy like Archie would go out there and punish the wicked better than any of them could.
Better than he could.
Archie kind of felt bad about what was about to happen.
Still, this was the absolute right thing to do. He was their best shot because Archie was a born survivor, extremely good at waiting until the right opportunity presented itself…then seizing it. He’d been waiting for such an opportunity ever since he’d been dropped into this infernal place. Now the chance was here, and he’d taken it. What rational being could blame him?
Still, innocent people were going to die. They had consented to the sacrifice; there was nothing he could do about it.
Archie couldn’t remember exactly how long he’d been here. Not as long as the others, certainly. He kept quiet, didn’t let the despair and chatter of the others affect him. That was key. Keeping your mind straight, tuning out the rest of the world’s clutter.
That was why he was still sane, and why he was getting out.
After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator ground to a noisy halt. He pulled aside the door, stepped into the vestibule. Archie reached for the knob. A small voice in his head, the one he never listened to, told him: It’s going to be locked. Archie twisted the knob. Unlocked. Archie smiled. The little voice, that annoying ghost of self-doubt, was always wrong. He was glad he hadn’t let the little voice get the best of him during his long stay. That little voice would drive you mad if you weren’t careful.
The doorway led to the room he dimly remembered from when he was first brought here. Table, chairs. That’s right. He’d woken up handcuffed to a chair. Someone had walked in and explained the deal to him. From that very first moment, Archie started waiting for the right opportunity.
Archie walked across the room and opened the second door, which led to a small room—another vestibule, only this one was made of steel. A fancy elevator, perhaps? Holding the door, he looked behind it for any possible control panel. No buttons. Maybe this was a safe room, meant to protect the occupant. After all, the person who had explained things to him had to have left this room alive, right? Archie closed the door behind him.
The little voice inside his head screamed at him: You’re a fool! Archie told the voice to shut up and not bother him anymore.
But there were no buttons. No secret switches. No options. No nothing. Another few minutes of searching, first calm, then frantic, led him to an unmistakable conclusion. This box led nowhere.
For the first time in his life, Archie Elder felt true despair.
Everyone in the facility waited for their deaths. Archie wouldn’t waste time; he would leave as soon as possible. The only questions now were: How would they die? Gas? Electricity? Undetectable poison? A bomb? Hidden guns? And how long before it happened?
But then a very surprising thing happened.
Nothing.
Death did not come down from above. No alarms, no hidden machine guns, no sarin gas, no flooding water…nothing at all. No sound at all.
Until there was suddenly a loud mechanical POP, a fat spark jumping a circuit.
The elevator whirred back to life. The cage was coming back down. Hardie didn’t understand until he saw Archie, head hung low, shuffling back into the delivery room.
“There’s no way out,” he said softly. “Just a dead end, sealed shut.”