Renegade (The Elysium Chronicles #1)(85)

The voice in my head doesn’t sound like mine. It sounds like Mother. I wonder if she has a direct path into my mind.

I shake it off. Because he’s your only hope, I tell myself. If you stay, you will die like everyone else. The Surface is worth the risk, if it means you’ll live.

I force my hand away from the pistol.

Gavin continues to watch me for a moment, before asking, “Are you okay?”

My life is just about perfect, I want to say, but another surge of anger overtakes me as I fight the programmed response. After just a few seconds I say, “Yes. Fine.”

He breathes a sigh of relief, then searches the remaining bodies for something we can use. Suddenly, his face brightens. He reaches into a pile of gore and pulls out a thin piece of glass.

I frown. I have no clue what it is.

He hands it to me. “Macie had something like this. She tried to find the route you’d take when you snuck off to the Palace, but it didn’t show the maintenance level.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know what it is.”

His brows bunch together. “You don’t?”

I lift my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

He studies it for a few minutes, then says, “Can I see your hand?”

Grudgingly, I hold it out. He presses the cool glass against my palm. A green light shoots out of the glass, then it beeps. A whole slew of words pop up onto the glass.

“I thought so,” he mutters. “Recognize it now?” He holds it out to me.

I don’t. I shake my head again.

He groans. “I really, really hate your mother.”

I don’t know what to say to that. He continues to study it and then starts pressing different things on the glass.

“Aha!” he says after a few minutes, and then a picture is projected from the glass. It’s a 3-D rendering of the facility.

“A map?” I ask.

“Yep, and I think this here is where we are.” He points to a blinking red dot. “I don’t really know how to work it. Do you?”

I know this. I know I do. I hold out my hand and he hands it to me. The contact with the device gives my memory a little boost and I’m able to locate the find feature. Then I pause. I can’t remember where we were going.

I look up at Gavin, who says, “Power control room.”

Right. I type it in, using the holographic keyboard, and it brings the map up again. This time there’s a red dot: us. And a flashing orange dot: power control room. Small pink dots lead from the red dot to the orange dot.

It appears to be several levels below us and on the opposite side of the Sector. I hand the map back to Gavin. “Probably safer for you to have it,” I say.

He takes it without question, reloads his plasma pistol, then hikes the backpack onto his shoulder. I do the same, and we cautiously slip out the door and start down the path.

It’s quickly evident that following behind him isn’t a good idea. The urge to shoot him in the back is too great. I’m still in control—so far—but I decide to take the lead. He’ll just have to direct me.

It doesn’t take long to make it to the elevator that will take us down, but I hesitate when Gavin opens the gate to the car. He stops, realizing I haven’t followed him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, adjusting his pack.

“There’s no power to run it.”

He half laughs, half groans. “Right. I forgot about that.” He looks back down at the map. “It looks like there’s a set of stairs over there.” He points a few feet away to a door.

Being as quiet and careful as possible, I open the door. My Enforcer senses are running on double time as I creep through the door and gesture for Gavin to follow.

Despite how quiet we are, the slap of our feet echoes around the small area and I’m surprised we aren’t met by any more of Mother’s experiments. It bothers me that we haven’t run into anyone. There should be hundreds of people in this Sector, but we’ve only encountered a few dozen.

We finally get to the bottom level and slip into an even darker corridor. It’s so dark I can’t see my hand in front of my face. But I don’t need to see to know why we haven’t met anyone. I can smell it. Something fleshy. And blood. Lots of it.

“Evie,” Gavin whispers.

“I’m fine,” I say, and flick on the flashlight attached to my dress.

“Oh my God,” Gavin says, and starts gagging.

Even I can’t blame him. The hallway is covered with dead bodies. The floor is sticky with partially dried pools of blood. The walls and even the ceiling are covered in sprays of red. And it drips from the ceiling like sprinkles of rain.

Laughter from farther down the hall sends chills running up and down my spine. But the light doesn’t reach that far. I can’t see anything.

Taking a deep breath, I move forward, trying hard not to step on anyone. My feet make sucking noises as they lift from the puddles. There are so many bodies it takes nearly ten minutes for me to cross.

Gavin uses the light from the holographic map to guide his way. I’m dizzy and sweating by the time we’re across, but I can’t let on that anything’s wrong. Weakness is unacceptable. Shameful. A flaw that must be eradicated.

The laughter echoes through the halls again, but this time I can make out other sounds, too. The scraping of feet against concrete. Talking. More than one person? And I think I hear singing.