Smoked (23 page)

Emmy watched as Scarlet paced the garage floor, her face drawn with worry. Trinity had gone outside to keep watch ten minutes before, leaving the two of them alone in awkward silence. It was the first time they'd been alone, the dragon realized, since that fateful day on the side of the cliff, where she'd asked Scarlet to do the unthinkable and Scarlet had pretended to agree.

It seemed crazy now, but at the time, Emmy had been so frightened—so guilty over what she'd inadvertently brought into the world. Trinity could say all she wanted that it wasn't Emmy's fault, but the creatures had come from Emmy's body. And without her, they would have never been born.

If only she'd confessed to Trinity from the start. Maybe things would have turned out differently. Instead, she'd acted like a coward, turning to Scarlet to do what she couldn't bring herself to do.

But in the end, maybe it was for the best. Because if Emmy had gone and done the job—crushed those poor babies under her body's weight the moment they'd hatched from their eggs—they would both be gone, their lives snuffed out before they began. Now she still had a chance to redeem herself. To save her son.

She glanced back at Scarlet.
Are
you
okay?
she asked.

Scarlet looked up at the dragon. She raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Emmy hung her head. Scarlet clearly wasn't going to make it easy on her. Though maybe that was what she deserved.
I
think
you're sad
, she said. Then she added,
I'm sad too.

Scarlet's face twisted. “You shouldn't be. You got what you wanted, right? One down, one to go.”

Emmy winced.
You're wrong
, she said.
I
never
wanted
it. I thought it was necessary. I thought it was the only choice we had. But I never wanted it. She was my daughter, Scarlet. My flesh and blood. And I never got a chance to know her.
She trailed off, unable to continue.

“Your loss,” Scarlet said, not turning around. “She was amazing.”

Tell
me
about
her.

“What?” Scarlet half turned this time, her face a mess of anger and sadness.

About
Zoe
, Emmy clarified.
What
was
she
like?

Scarlet scowled again, and for a moment, Emmy thought she wouldn't answer. Then, at last, she shrugged. “She was wonderful,” she told her, her voice sounding a little rough around the edges. “Really sweet and kind. She loved music too. Any kind of music. I brought her an iPod. She burned that thing out she listened to it so much. She was a big fan of Taylor Swift. And she loved to make up these little dances to all the songs and then perform them for me when I came to visit.” She laughed softly. “I'm pretty sure Zavier thought it was all completely ridiculous, but he never let on. He was always so supportive of his sister. Anything she wanted or needed, he was there for her. He was the best brother a girl could have. A lot like my brother, actually, back in the day.”

Emmy nodded slowly, feeling the tears well at the corners of her eyes. She thought back to her own brother, the young ruby, who was taken away by their mother before she even learned his name. Would he have protected her like that? Would he have been her best friend? What a wonderful thing—to have someone to share things with, someone to laugh with and cry with. From the beginning, Emmy had always been alone.

Maybe if this all worked out, maybe if they could find a way to bring Zavier and the others home and quench their thirst for revenge—maybe Emmy would get a chance to say she was sorry. To start over and really be a mother this time. She imagined going from being alone to being a mother to fourteen dragons! It sounded incredible.

I
wish
I
could
have
known
her
, she said to Scarlet.
But
I
am
so
grateful
she
had
you.

Scarlet's face crumbled. Emmy stretched out her neck, nudging her arm with her snout. For a moment, Scarlet just stood there. Then she turned to Emmy and threw her arms around her head. The dragon nuzzled her face against her chest, her own tears falling as they embraced. For a moment, they just stood there, holding one another, before Emmy pulled away.

I'm so sorry, Scarlet
, she said.
I
hope
someday
you
can—

But her words were cut short as Trinity burst back into the garage, a frantic expression on her face. “We've got trouble!” she cried. “Someone's coming. We need to get out of here. Now.”

“What is this place?”

Connor shone his flashlight up at his brother, who was climbing down the rope behind Mara, a puzzled look on his face. Connor didn't blame him either. He'd been more than a little surprised himself when he'd dropped down into this place. He'd expected more of what they'd seen above—a burned-out shell of a building in grave disrepair. Instead, a smooth, shiny tunnel that looked brand-new stretched out into the darkness. He raked a hand through his hair, puzzled.

“Was this under the mall this entire time?” he asked his brother. He knew that there had been some back passageways that Trinity and he had used to make their escape the first time around. But this seemed way more extensive, not to mention undamaged—as if these corridors had been built after the mall had been burned and abandoned. Which didn't make any sense.

Caleb shook his head. “If it was, I certainly didn't know about it.” He glanced over at Mara. “How about you, Blondie?” he asked. “You remember anything like this?”

Mara didn't answer. She just stared down the corridor, wide-eyed and white faced. A chill wound down Connor's spine. This was getting too spooky for him.

“Okay,” he said, channeling his inner soldier to stymie his encroaching fear. “We'd better see where this leads. Maybe we can find another place to climb back up, where the floor is in better shape.” He turned to Mara. “In the meantime, I apologize, but I have to tie you back up.”

Mara nodded wordlessly, holding out her hands. Connor worked to tie them, a little looser this time, pretty sure that even if she wanted to escape at this point, he could shoot her before she got very far. “Which way?” he asked.

“My lab was located in the mall's former Bath & Body Works,” she told them. “Our best chance to find the Nether dust is to head there.”

“That was pretty much in the dead center of the mall,” Caleb remembered. He glanced down at his phone's GPS. “So we need to head this way.”

They crept down the corridor, using their flashlights to light the way. Connor kept his gun in his hand, checking around every corner to make sure they were alone. At first, everything seemed okay, and he began to relax a little, telling himself this must have been here all along and Caleb and Mara just hadn't come across it. But then…

“What was that?” he hissed, stopping short. Caleb and Mara slammed into him from behind, almost making him lose his balance. He gestured for them to be silent. Then he closed his eyes, listening carefully.

A moment later, it came again. A loud moaning, from somewhere close by. He glanced over at his companions to see if they'd heard it too. From the looks on their faces, they had.

Without a word, he gestured for them to follow him, flicking off his flashlight and depending on his own night vision to guide them through the darkness. As they crept along, his pulse kicked up, adrenaline igniting in anticipation of whatever lay ahead.

Pushing through a door, they discovered a small spiral staircase leading down into the darkness. As they stared at it, the noise came again. Whatever it was, it was clearly coming from this pit. Taking a deep breath, Connor took the steps, winding down deeper and deeper into the abyss. Where did it lead? And was that a faint light he caught far, far below?

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the stairs ended, and he found himself on solid rock. He frowned, clicking on his flashlight again. The room burst to life, and he gasped at what he saw.

It was an apartment, carved into stone. A simple apartment: a few chairs, a crude table, a couple of hammocks serving as beds. But it wasn't the furnishings themselves that took his breath away—rather their familiarity.

“The model home,” he whispered.

It was a photo straight from his history texts. A humble, underground dwelling that had been advertised as mankind's salvation—a refuge from the Scorch. The powers that be had sold thousands of these apartments back in the day—before the more extensive cities were constructed years later. Those who purchased these studios were promised shelter and safety while the rest of the world lived in terror above.

But what was it doing here, now? He shot a worried look over at Caleb and Mara. Their eyes told him they were thinking the same thing he was.

“Oh my God,” Mara breathed. “He did it. He really did it.”

“Who?” Connor found himself asking. But deep inside, he realized he already knew, of course. There could be only one—the Dracken leader, Darius himself.

“He must have found a way out of prison,” Mara whispered. “He must have been here this whole time, constructing this place to wait out the storm.” She rose to her feet. “Come on,” she added. “We have to know how far he's taken it.”

Connor didn't know exactly what she meant by this, but he followed her anyway, out the apartment front door into a smooth hallway lined with identical doors every few yards.
More
apartments
, he realized with growing dread. Darius and his followers must have been quite busy indeed.

Ahead of him, Mara stopped short, her breath now hissing from her throat. They'd reached a large metal door cut into the rock. Unlike the other doors, which were crude and made of wood, this door was constructed out of some kind of shiny, solid metal that looked to be titanium.

Mara glanced back at them, her eyes wide with fear. “This can't be,” she whispered. “It just can't.”

“What?” Connor demanded, his heart thumping hard in his chest. “What is it?”

“We need to get out of here. Now. Get back to Emberlyn and make sure she's okay.”

“No,” Caleb interjected. “We can't. Not until we have the Nether dust.”

“Fleck the Nether dust,” Mara cried. “Don't you see? It doesn't matter now! None of it matters!”

Connor opened his mouth to demand to know what she was talking about. But then, the noise came again. Louder. Closer. Whatever it was, he realized in terror, it was coming from behind this massive door.

Pushing past Mara, he grabbed the door's handle. He yanked it open.

And he saw for himself.

• • •

Trinity dove back into the former automotive garage, her heart slamming against her ribs. Scarlet and Emmy watched her, looking confused and scared.

“Get on Emmy's back!” Trinity instructed. “Someone's coming. We need to get out of here. Now!”

To her credit, Scarlet didn't argue, scrambling up Emmy's wing and swinging her leg over her back. Trinity followed suit, joining her a moment later.

“Go, Ems!” she cried. “Fly like the wind!”

“What about the boys?” Scarlet broke in. “We can't just leave them here.”

“We'll have to come back for them. Or they can take the car. I'll try to send a message.” Trin closed her eyes, concentrating.

We've got trouble, Connor. We're going to have to—

But her send was cut short as something sickly sweet enveloped her senses. She frowned, opening her eyes and turning to Scarlet, wanting to ask if she smelled it too. But the words stuck in her throat, and she found she could only look at Scarlet, who was also now struggling to breathe. Trinity reached out, trying to grab on to her. But her vision swam.

And blackness consumed her.

• • •

Connor slammed the door shut, his breath coming in short gasps. “Dragons,” he whispered. “Holy hell, where did those dragons come from?”

Mara shook her head, her expression grave. “Darius must have discovered what I'd done at the lab and decided to hedge his bets. And I'm guessing these aren't purebloods either.”

Connor paced the corridor, raking a hand through his hair, his steps eating up the distance between the walls as his mind flashed back to what he'd seen in the next room. Dragons. Twenty or more. All at least the size of Emmy—possibly larger. He'd heard hybrids could grow to twice the size of pureblood dragons, which meant they might not have even been full grown.

“They were mutated,” he remarked. “At least the ones I could see. Extra legs, eyes where there shouldn't be eyes…” He looked up. “Just like the dragons you brought back from the future that were destroyed in the fire.”

“Maybe he managed to rescue a few of them,” Mara concluded. “Or at least some of their DNA? But how would he breed them? Sure, he could clone them, but he'd still need a host. Like I needed Emmy. We'd tried to use ceramic eggs under an incubator and even implant embryos into other egg-laying species like ostriches. But it never worked.”

“What if he didn't make them at all?” Connor interjected. “I mean, what if he brought back more dragons from the future than we ever knew about? What if they've been down here this whole time, deep under the mall, growing and waiting for the moment when Darius planned to unleash them on the world?”

“Flecking hell,” Caleb swore under his breath. “If they get free now—if they're able to breed with Emmy's true children…” He trailed off; he didn't need to finish anyway. Connor knew all too well what could happen—what
would
happen if they didn't figure out a way to stop this and fast.

“Come on,” he said. “We need to get Emmy. We'll have her set fire to this place. Raze it to the ground and the hybrids with it. That's the only way we can—”

He broke off as a voice slammed into his consciousness. Trinity's voice.

We've got trouble, Connor. We're going to have to—

It stopped midsentence, as if cut by a knife.

Trinity!
he tried to send back. But there was no answer. He turned to his brother and Mara, who were looking at him questioningly. “Something's wrong,” he told them. “We have to get back to the surface. Now!”

He bolted down the hall, not waiting for an answer, assuming they'd follow. Sure enough, he could hear them step in behind him as they ran through the apartment, up the stairs, down the corridor. But then, just as they were closing in on the entrance, Connor's ears caught footsteps echoing on the smooth floors, headed their way.

“Someone's coming,” he whispered.

And then he heard the voice. He glanced over at his brother.

“Darius,” Caleb whispered. “It's him.”

• • •

Trinity? Scarlet?

Emmy twisted her long neck to look up onto her back, where the girls had suddenly gone silent. Worry churned in her stomach.

Should
I
go?
she asked.
Should
I
fly?

No answer. She snuffed her nose at them only to have them slip off her back and onto the garage floor with a sickening thud. She stifled a whine of alarm. What was wrong with them? Why were they so still? And what was that smell? She paused, sniffing.

She turned to the building's exit, not sure what to do. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. Trinity had been scared. She'd wanted them to leave.
Fly
like
the
wind
, she'd said. The dragon glanced down at the unconscious girls; she could grab them and place them back on her back, but they'd likely just fall off again. Maybe she could take them in her arms instead, cradling them against her chest as she flew. She tried this for a moment, but they were so soft, it was hard to get a good grip on them, and she didn't want them to slip out while in the air.

She moaned again, not sure what to do. The smell was getting more intense, and it was getting harder to breathe. Her wings were feeling heavy—so very heavy—and she was no longer sure she could even get airborne if she tried, with or without the girls. What was going on here? It was all she could do not to curl up into a ball and go to sleep.

But
you
can't
, she scolded herself.
They
need
you.

She looked around, desperation rising within her. If she couldn't fly them away, she had to hide them somehow—before whoever was doing this came. But where?

Finally, her eyes locked onto a large rusted bin at the far end of the room. The kind they used back at the airfield to store trash in. Making her decision, Emmy grabbed Trinity in her mouth as gently as she could, then dropped her into the bin. Then she returned and did the same with Scarlet—a little slower this time, her legs feeling like lead, but somehow she managed to get her inside. Then she snuffed the other trash with her nose, burying the girls and closing the lid. They would be safe there. As safe as possible, anyway.

She turned, trying to breathe, trying desperately to clear her head. Now what? Could she try to hide herself? But there was nothing big enough to conceal her entirely. She could try to leave, but she didn't want to stray from the girls, in case they needed her help.

But oh, that smell. That noxious smell—sweet yet at the same time rotten to the core.

You
need
to
run
, she told herself.
You
need
to
fly.

Instead, she could only sink to the ground, her legs collapsing out from under her as her head dropped and her vision spun. A moment later, men stormed in wearing strange gray masks over their faces, shouting and throwing a net over her. She wanted to laugh at that; it was so unnecessary. She couldn't have moved if she'd tried. She could vaguely feel them dragging her onto some kind of flat truck bed, hauling her away. It was all she could do not to glance back, to make sure Trinity and Scarlet were still hidden. But she forced herself to stare straight ahead, not wanting to give their location away.

And a moment later, she too succumbed to the blackness.

• • •

Darius. The voice was definitely Darius's. And from the sound of it, he was coming this way.