Voices. Lots of them. Coming from the Segment doorway.
Slamming herself against the wall, trying to fit inside a narrow indentation at an intersection of two halls, she waited. The gun, held pointing upward, her bent arm flush against the wall; the other hand gripping the tab.
This was it. She had to act.
Either they had Gabe or they were going to get him.
Or the deed was already done.
Please, no.
Deep breath. The voices and people coming closer. The tab in her hand, her key to entry; the gun growing heavy in her raised arm.
As they came closer, she made her decision, tucking the tab safely into her pocket. At just the right moment, she stepped out into the hallway, grabbing the first and closest person in the group.
Roman.
“Don’t move. Not a muscle.” Marina felt a wave of satisfaction as she jammed the barrel of Gabe’s gun into Roman’s neck.
She felt him swallow, and the gun actually shifted with the wave of his terror.
The others froze, and she took that moment to let her fired gaze blast over them.
Gabe!
He was there, hanging, quite literally hanging, from the arms of two men who propped him. As Marina stared, he managed to raise his head and look up.
His mouth moved; it could have been “fucking incredible” or “get the hell out of here” … she wasn’t sure which. Either way, it didn’t matter: he was alive, and at least somewhat coherent.
“Release him.” She didn’t need to specify whom; they knew. Gabe stumbled toward her, holding onto the wall, and she saw the bruises on his face; cuts and other wounds she didn’t care to define.
Varden and Nora were among the small group, Lev was not. There were three others, including the guards who’d carried Gabe. They all gaped at her, none daring to move as Roman trembled next to her.
The man was actually trembling. It amazed her.
By this time, Gabe had reached her side and she gave him a better once-over. He wrapped a weak arm around her waist, and tightened it briefly in the form of a hug of gratitude. She was focused on Roman, and the rest of the group.
“Everyone raise your arms and remove your wristbands,” she said sharply when she saw Varden shift near the back. She should have commanded that immediately, but she was new at holding people at gun-point and hadn’t thought of it in her relief at seeing Gabe in one piece. So to speak. “Toss them up here,” she gestured to the floor.
“Can you walk at all?” she asked out of the corner of her mouth. He nodded against her, weakly, but his blue eyes showed determination.
As the wristbands thumped to the floor next to her, she counted, and double counted. Even Roman complied when she jabbed him with the gun.
There was one for each person. But Marina wasn’t satisfied. “Roll up your sleeves. Both arms. Everyone.”
She found three more bands that way; one each on Roman, Varden, and Nora. That just confirmed for her who had the power and who didn’t.
Kicking the bands into a small pile, she used her own to open a door and shove them inside with her foot, all the while keeping Roman under her scope. When the door swished closed, she gave her uncle a shove toward his group.
He stumbled, fell against the wall, and stood there, chest heaving, face nearly as grey as her father’s had been.
Marina started to back away, down the hall, one arm around Gabe, who was helping as much as he could, and the other holding the gun aimed at the group of people she left behind. Then she had an idea.
Stopping in front of a different door, she opened it and gestured for the group to move inside. “See how you like it,” she muttered loud enough for Varden to hear as he walked by.
As soon as they were all in the room and she shut the door, she turned to Gabe.
He looked dead on his feet, but his eyes glowed with admiration. “Very well done.”
“I didn’t even have to fire the damn thing, except to get through the security screen,” she said with a grin, which faded almost immediately. “I don’t know how long we’ll have until they get out of there, so let’s get you the hell out of here.”
Moving quickly down the hall, Gabe limping along and half-leaning on Marina, they made good time navigating through the hallways.
But suddenly, no more than ten minutes later, their luck came to a screeching halt.
A blast of an alarm blared through the halls, and suddenly, the lights went out.
Apparently, there was another way to get out of those rooms than a radio-controlled key.
In pitch dark, in fairly unfamiliar territory and a walking wounded on her arm, Marina was decidedly at a disadvantage.
She pulled out her tiny squeeze-light, grateful once again for the little gadget, and continued trundling Gabe along with her. But she knew it would only be a matter of time before they were found.
Hobble, hobble, hobble … pause, turn left … hobble some more. Marina was panting and gasping with Gabe’s weight, and it felt as though he was sagging more as they went further.
Finally, she veered into a room that was near the end of one of the halls. She wasn’t sure where it was; she’d lost her sense of direction during the last few minutes of mad rush. But perhaps a little food, and some doctoring would help Gabe.
Inside the room, she propelled him toward a sofa — a real sofa, not like the one in hers and Dad’s rooms. He protested weakly, but went.
She dug the water from her pocket and opened it, then shoved it at him and watched as he drank. “No food, no water,” he managed to gasp between swallows.
Marina pulled out the meat and cheese and offered that as well. While he ate, she scouted the room. This one didn’t have an attached bathroom, but she did find some cloths that appeared to be laundry of some sort. Using some of the second bottle of water, she tried to wash away some of the sweat and blood that mottled his face. But when she tried to check the leg he favored, and the wound on his head, he pushed her hand away with surprising strength.
“No time for that now. We have to get out of here. I’m feeling better now that I have food and drink.” He didn’t look better, but the determination in his face told Marina it was senseless to argue. “We have to stop them.”
“What are they doing? Something about Detroit?”
“Earthquakes, I think. Like the ones in Allentown. I don’t know the details, but we have to find a way to stop them.”
How could they stop them if they didn’t know the details? And if the entire complex was looking for them?
Then Marina knew the answer. Dad. By God, she’d force him to tell her what he knew. “I’ll be back. Gabe, you need to stay here and rest—”
“Absolutely not. I’m going with you. I’m feeling better now, and you’ve put yourself in enough danger. At least I know how to use that.” He forced a feeble grin as he gestured to the gun. “It’s a Smith & Wesson, in case you were wondering.”
Marina hesitated only a moment; but two heads were better than one. And if Gabe were found, alone and weak, he’d be back in the same position she’d just rescued him from. “All right. We’re going back in there to find my dad.”
“Victor? He’s here?”
“Oh yes, he’s here.” Marina took the time to tell him about Roman and Gabe, Nora, Varden, and Lev because she figured a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt their cause and might help him regain a little more strength. She gave him the details of her confinement, and told him about everything except for Ivan the Terrible’s secret library. She wanted to hold that to herself.
When she finished, Gabe spoke. “Marina … if you made it as far as my gun, you were almost out of here. You didn’t have to come back for me.”
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