Sinners 01 - Branded (39 page)

About a hundred feet past the wire and around the first corner,
they
wait for us. Little, glowing red dots from their guns light up the wall in front
of Keegan and then a barrage of gunfire blitzes us.

I return fire with the others, but we’re pinned down. A thunderous explosion resounds
from behind and I’m blown forward in a violent motion. Debris smashes into me midair,
and I land on my side. For a moment, I’m completely disoriented.

I feel the warmth of Zeus’s tongue licking my face, trying to rouse me. Mass chaos
ensues around us, but I can’t see anything, so I pull Zeus close. Everything echoes
around in my head, bouncing off the insides of my skull. Despite the constant chattering
of guns, screaming, and moaning, I feel around with my hands and army crawl toward
where I believe the wall is.
Or was.
Though my adrenaline is juiced up, I feel nagging pain.

Are my legs still attached?
I reach down and feel that my pant legs from the knee down were torn away in the
blast. My fingers feel slick and bloody from cuts I know I have. I don’t know where
my gun landed. It was ripped from my hands in the blast.

“Keegan! Keegan!” I shout through the darkness and deafening shots. I hope he’s alive.

A hand grabs mine from out of nowhere. It’s sweaty and rough and squeezes mine tight.
When it lets go, I feel confused. Should I stay along the wall or grab it again? Then
it roughly pulls me through a doorway and my shoulder smacks the right side of the
frame. Clenching my teeth, I scramble against the wall and cover my head with my arms.
Then a small light, like a book reading light, flips on and I see Keegan crouching
across from me. He looks awful. His face bleeds with multiple cuts, and he’s covered
in a mix of dust and residue. Yet, he seems concerned about me and does a quick inventory.

“You all right?” His eyes travel from my head to my feet as if he is taking a mental
tally of all my injuries.

I shake my head and shout, “I can’t understand.” I cover my ears. “I can’t hear.”

“Are you all right?” he shouts.

I nod, yes. “Still kicking.” My eyes roam the room.

It’s a storage room of some sort, with collapsed racks of cleaning solvents and towels.

“Where’s your gun?”

I shrug.

He hands me a .9mm Glock but keeps his M16. I have no idea how he held on to it.

“Where’re the others?” I draw in as many deep breaths as I can in an attempt to clear
my head of the dizziness. I rest with my hands on my knees and look at him as he stands
up.

Now it’s his turn to shrug. “Can you keep up?” He pulls a towel from one of the racks,
causing a clatter of noise, and then wipes his face with it. His hand holds out another
for me. The salt and grime from the Hole ooze off my face.

“I’m ready to take him down.” Even though I’m terrified, I won’t be a coward.

“I know.” His face beams with pride, and I can’t help but feel that he views me differently
now. Like I’ve finally earned my place.

“Our only choice is to hunker down for a while. Rest for now. Okay?” His hand encloses
my face for a moment.

I nod my head and rest it on the wall behind me. I focus on the task at hand, taking
down the commander. I can think about the losses after it’s all over. I slip down
the wall and sit on the dusty, cold floor.

Keegan slides down the narrow wall between the closed door and the shelves.

The room vibrates from the battle outside, and occasionally more explosions make the
walls groan.

It’s impossible for me to rest with these demons loose in my head. I try to close
my eyes, but all I can see is Veronica’s mouth full of blood, Sheldon slipping over
the edge, Alyssa’s last breaths, and Cole. My nightmares don’t compare to this. Then
I realize Zeus didn’t follow me into the room.

“Zeus! Damn it, where’s Zeus? I completely forgot about him—I thought he was right
behind me.” I’m on the verge of a breakdown. In our haste to get out of darkness,
I left him behind.

“Don’t worry about the dog—not now! Stay focused or you’ll get yourself killed,” Keegan
says.

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.

“Yes. But I’ve also figured out that behind every genius mind somewhere hides a fault.
Yours just happens to be pride.” Sutton pauses. “I remember even as kids, you always
overlooked small details because all you could focus on was the big picture. And you’re
right, getting rid of you might not solve the problem, but it’s a step in the right
direction.”

My father wasn’t just murdered—he was betrayed and murdered by Sutton’s own brother.

I glance over my shoulder to see Keegan ten feet behind me, peering through cracks
between the desks. The bloodlust in his eyes tells me he’s ready for action.

He and I move in an arc, closing in on them as they speak.

In an abrupt movement, the commander levels the gun at Sutton’s head. “You have lost
your mind,” he says with a spiteful voice. His finger tightens on the trigger. “Over
a stupid decision to follow a dead man’s dream. I don’t know if I’m surprised.”

Without thinking, I leap over a desk and pounce on him, knocking the gun sideways
as he pulls the trigger. It goes off with a resounding
bang
and Sutton falls, but I’m so wrapped up with the commander that I can’t help him.

We wrestle on the ground, each of us grasping for the gun that skidded a foot away.
He elbows me in the face, and I blink with teary eyes while hitting him.

I break free and reach for it, but he wraps his arms around my waist, dragging me
back. I fold my fingers around the stock, but soon his large hands wrench it from
my sweaty palms.

Keegan springs in to help, but as we tussle, the gun goes off again. Keegan crumples,
holding his abdomen—his eyes shocked. Blood seeps through his fingers, flowing over
his hands like the trickle of a stream, and I know it’s bad.

Anger and fear rage through me. I shove the gun aside and use my free hand to gouge
out the eye of the commander. He howls with agony, dropping the gun as his hands cover
the gaping hole. I pull away from him, focusing on his face for the first time.