Breed of Havoc (The Breed Chronicles #3) (39 page)

“And more people will get hurt if you don’t come out of there. We’re only after you, Jade. The longer you make us wait, the more other people will suffer.”

His words stopped me cold. They were after me? So they hadn’t just been following CGE people in New Orlando—they’d been following me.

Think, Jade, think!
I’d been in worse situations, hadn’t I?
No.

My brain froze. What was I supposed to do? I’d never trained for anything like this, not really. Sure, I’d almost escaped the CGE my first Phase, but I’d been trying to get out, not stay in. I’d been trying to escape agents and hunters who’d been sent to detain me, not masked men with guns and knives who were here to take me. So what the hell did I do? Whoever these guys were, they were good. Good enough to take out Adam. Good enough to kill the CGEs power and send everyone running.

Maybe if I kept them talking. I was good at that, wasn’t I? If I just kept them talking, I could buy the good guys time to come find me.

My gaze swept left and right. “Why’d you try to get my friend in trouble?”

“Who?”

“The guy you gave the fireworks to. That was you, wasn’t it?”
Please don’t let there be any one else.

Creeper’s tone never changed. It was the same low, dispassionate tone. “Yeah, that was me. I figured I could use him to get you out there, and then this whole thing would’ve been avoided.”

There was another minute of silence, then the banging started again as they rammed against the doors. Both of them, I realized a second later as both piles started to move. They would get in before help got here, assuming anyone was
here
to help me. I didn’t have any weapons, I didn’t have any way of contacting someone for help.

They were going to get me. What happened then, I had no idea. They’d take me away somewhere. Away from the CGE and my friends. My life.

My breath started to come out in quick, gasping gulps. My heart, finally catching up with my mind and realizing this wasn’t something I could get out of, started to beat harder and faster. Eyes darting side to side, I looked for an exit I knew wasn’t there.

Time seemed to slow down.

Could this really be happening? To me? Here? Now?

Mr. Connor’s voice rang in my head, reminding me to improvise if I didn’t have any weapons. Reminding me to do what I could to control the situation. Reminding me that I still had a brain. I almost laughed. The situation was so out of my control. Closing my eyes, I let out a breath. Panicking and having a negative attitude wouldn’t help. Thinking would help.

Thinking straight would help more.

Adam had known who these guys were. Maybe not by name, but he’d recognized the tattoo I’d seen on Creeper’s hand in New Orlando. He knew of these guys, even if he didn’t know them personally.

I spun away as the bed from the main door started to move. I did another quick scan and then ran for the tablet I’d found earlier. For a weapon it was useless, but for leaving a clue, it’d have to do.

Other than knowing there were eight of them—minus one hopefully still unconscious man—after me, I didn’t know squat. I typed a quick note, relaying as much as I could. I had no other clues to offer, no other helpful tidbits of information that’d be helpful to anyone. But Adam…if he was okay, if they showed him the tablet or mentioned it, he’d understand it. And if he knew about the tattoo, then Peter and Dale—and Greene—would, too.

A scraping sound caught my attention. I shot a quick glance over my shoulder in time to see the bed moving across the floor as the doors were forced open.
Time’s up
, I thought, and quickly shoved the tablet into one of the drawers and quietly shut it.

Taking a step forward, I bent down and picked up the fallen trash can. The tablet would have made a better weapon, but hopefully the note would do me more good, so the trashcan would have to suffice. Maybe I could knock a few of them out, or at least cause some damage. I wasn’t picky—I’d settle for a few broken noses.

Because I wasn’t going anywhere without a fight.

The doors in front of me flew open. Everything I’d piled in front of them fell or was shoved aside. Seconds later, I heard someone ramming against the other door, and then that pile of stuff fell.

Two men on each side of the room flanked me, each with a gun aimed at my chest. It reminded me of my first Phase, of the exercise we’d had, but I wasn’t sure the guns aimed at me had tranqs or real bullets, and I wasn’t in any hurry to find out.

If you don’t know the answer, assume the worst
. Almost every teacher had said something similar when it came to hunting. It was their version of the ‘better safe than sorry’ motto.

I braced for a fight and gripped the trashcan in my hands tightly. No one moved in yet. Part of me hoped they wouldn’t. Part of me knew they would.

Why couldn’t this have been another exercise? Some new challenge for the Prospects. I wanted it to be, but I knew it wasn’t. Greene would trick people—I had no doubts about that—but he wouldn’t go this far. He wouldn’t hurt one of his own people to prove a point.

Creeper man stepped forward, weaponless. Worse, mask-less. Blood trickled down his nose from where I’d hit him. His eyes were clear, calm, and collected, just the way Chris had described them before. I knew what he meant when he said this guy was scary looking. Everything else about him was average—average height and weight, hair color, facial structure. Everything but the eyes.

I backed up out of instinct and one of the men behind me grabbed my arm. I swung out hard, putting every bit of strength behind it as I could, and managed to knock him in the head. He went flying and crumpled to the floor as another man moved forward. I whacked him in the face, watching as blood spurted. He swore violently and took another step toward me. I clutched the trashcan tighter in my hand. Something sharp pinched my neck, like a bee sting, but I ignored it and swung out as the guy came at me. I managed to hit him in the head and sent him to the floor on top of the first guy.

“Give her another dose,” I heard Creeper say.

“That could kill her—”

“Give her another dose,” he said again, his voice cold and hard.

I felt anther sting, this one at my collar bone. I ignored it, too, and lifted the trashcan for another round of Trash the Masked Men. The third guy was smarter and ducked out of the way before I could clobber him. “Got your buddies, didn’t I?” I said. My voice sounded oddly slurred. I waited for other guys to move in, but they kept their distance. I blinked at them and shook my head. My mouth felt weird, my tongue heavy. A weird taste coated the back of my throat.

Tranq’d. They’d tranq’d me.

I shook my head again and blinked as my eyes tried shutting. Everything had a fuzzy tint around it, like cotton over my eyes. My thoughts were fuzzy, too, like they were there but weren’t.

Slowly, two of the men stepped closer. They were getting blurrier. Big, black blurs, surrounded by white. Creeper man, with his cold eyes, just watched me.

I tried hitting someone again, but my arms felt like jelly. The trashcan might’ve been metal, but it still weighed less than a pound, and now, it felt like it weighed hundreds of pounds. I couldn’t even lift it. Was I even still holding it?

My legs buckled beneath me. The blurry blobs flanking me caught me and kept me from falling. I could barely keep my head up. How had it gotten so heavy, too? “What d’you want?” I managed to say.

Creeper strode forward. He didn’t say anything, only stared down at me.

I tried staring back, tried glaring, but my eyelids were following the rest of me and getting heavier and heavier. Keeping them open was exhausting. I could do it, but each time they fell down, I lost a little ground and things got fuzzier and darker.

“As’hole,” I said.

And then the blackness swallowed me.

C
HAPTER 18

I came to slowly. My body ached, like a truck had pulverized me. My head felt fuzzy and had explosions going off inside it, like someone had set a long line of them inside my brain. Domino explosions, one right after the other. I blinked, or tried to, but couldn’t quite get my eyes to open more than a fraction. And that fraction didn’t help because everything around me was black.

Where was I? My room was never this dark. It always had a little light, either from under the door or from my holo-tree-turned-photo-album. And my bed definitely wasn’t this uncomfortable. It felt like I was laying on bricks. Or a floor. Carefully, I moved my arm and tapped beside me. My hand met air. I wasn’t on the ground, but whatever I was on didn’t have much give. The material was weird. Hard and…scratchy.

A cot? I’d slept on a cot at the one of the old places I’d stayed at, but I why would I be one at the CGE? I had a nice, warm, comfortable bed.

And then I remembered. I wasn’t on my bed or in my room. I wasn’t even at the CGE.

My mind cleared instantly and everything flashed back. The masked men, Adam being stabbed, getting Doc. Locking myself in the infirmary. Sharp pains in my neck.

The man with the creepy eyes.

My heart started to pound again and I struggled to sit up. A scream crept up the back of my throat as my fingers clenched the side of the cot, around the metal poles that held it together. “Breathe,” I ordered myself, then nearly jumped at the sound of my own voice. It was quiet, but everything was so loud and foreign in this place. Wherever I was. It could’ve been a building or house, a cellar or warehouse. I could still be in Florida, or across the ocean for all I knew.

They’d hit me with two tranq darts. A standard tranq would’ve been enough to knock me out for twelve solid hours. How long had two kept me under?

While my heart still thudded in my chest, I slowly put my legs over the side of the bed. The ground was cool. I looked down and saw only socks and skin, and a weird material that went just below my knees. Not my jeans. A gown.

Tears burned my eyes and I let out harsh breath after harsh breath until my head and vision swam. I’d been dizzy before, but now, in the dark, when my eyes weren’t working properly, it was a hundred times worse. Nothing moved, yet it felt like everything swam around me. It made my stomach squirm, like I was on a scary roller-coaster in the dark.

I let out a strangled laugh that sounded like a cry.

“Calm down.”

My body jerked at the unexpected voice and I twisted to the side, toward the sound. Creeper’s voice—I’d recognize it anywhere.

I jumped to my feet. The world spun again and I fell back onto the cot. Closing my eyes, I focused on my hearing. I could see in the dark if I tried to. If I needed to. And right now, more than anything, I needed to.

“Who are you? Where am I?” My voice sounded weak.

I didn’t get a response, not that I’d expected one. I saw him then, when he breathed, standing in the far corner with his arms crossed over his chest, posture relaxed. Calm. That was somehow scarier than the guys who’d had guns. Creeper was so damn cool about everything.

You have the advantage,
I told myself.
He knows your name, but he doesn’t know you. Not really.
At least I hoped not. He knew too much as it was.

I stood, facing his direction, wanting to gauge his response. When he didn’t move, I gave it another two seconds, and then I charged. He still didn’t move. When I neared him, I jumped. Instead of hitting him, I crashed into something solid and fell back, landing hard. My head bounced off the ground. I gnashed my teeth together in a growl.

“Interesting,” he said, without any kind of infliction to his tone.

“I’ll show you interesting.” I pushed up on my elbows and glared, even though he probably couldn’t see me. I got to my feet and, holding my hands in front of me, moved forward again, slowly this time. My hands bumped into something. I tapped on it, saw the vibrations in green. I looked up at his face. “What do you want?”

“We have what we want. You.”

“What, so you just go around collecting teens? Creep.”

His chuckle was low and there was amusement in it. “You’re not a teenager anymore, are you? I believe you just celebrated your eighteenth birthday?”

Great, so I was a kidnapped barely-adult—much better.

After a second, I frowned. He knew my birthday.
Just one more thing he knows that he shouldn’t.

I pounded on the glass. This time, I could see it as the sound vibrated off it. It was bright pink. I moved around, to the next side and hit again, watching the shape appear. I did this for each wall until I could see the entirety of it. A box. They had me in a damn box.

But one thing I didn’t see: an exit.

I went around again, feeling for any lines or hinges. By the time I reached my starting point again, in front of Creeper, I still hadn’t found anything. Just the box. I pounded on the glass again until my hands went numb, until the fear turned into anger. I stormed over the cot and tried pulling it from the ground. It didn’t budge.

I had no weapons. I had no way out.

The anger made way for the fear again. I tried blocking it out, because fear was useless, but it was impossible. “Let. Me. Out!”