Spectacle (Menagerie #2)(94)

We’d just raised the alarm ourselves.





“It’s just not possible. We will never be able to trust these      creatures, no matter what they’re wearing. No matter how much control we think      we have over them. You don’t see us slapping collars on tigers and letting them      play in our backyards—with our children—do you?”

—from the transcript of Senate       Subcommittee Hearing into Cryptid Placement, October 19, 2013





Delilah

“Gallagher. Smash the equipment.”

“But you said—”

I held up the dead remote. “Everyone who’s carrying one of these knows what we just did. If they restart the system, we’re screwed. Smash it.”

Gallagher grabbed the folding metal chair and slammed it into three of the wall-mounted monitors at once.

“No, those just show what’s happening.” He had no experience with electronics, because as fear dearg, every electronic device he picked up shorted-circuited. The collar had only worked on him because it was hardwired into his nervous system. “You have to smash the machines themselves.” I pointed out the row of computers beneath the operating console. “There.”

Gallagher jerked the first from its shelf, wires dangling, and threw it at the floor. Electronic shrapnel flew all over the room, peppering us with harmless scratches. While he smashed the others, I used a police-style baton hanging from Petit’s chair to further decimate the machines he’d already broken open.

A door squealed open behind me, and I looked up as Petit ran into the hallway.

Gallagher took off after him. I caught up with them around the corner just in time to see him break Petit’s neck. One-handed.

The corpse crumpled to the floor, and I flinched.

“He was a threat,” Gallagher whispered.

“Fine. But let’s try to limit the bloodshed to those who’ve actually done harm or are threatening to. Okay?”

“They’ve all done harm.”

“If we slaughter the entire staff, people won’t just think we’re animals that have to be caged or put down—they’ll believe it. Promise me you won’t kill anyone who doesn’t have to die.”

“Delilah...” He glanced at my stomach, and I knew what he was thinking. What he wanted to do to everyone associated with the Savage Spectacle.

“Promise me.”

“Those I’ve already sworn to kill must die. As for the rest...are concussions okay?”

“Yes. Unconsciousness is preferred. Let them wake up later with a huge headache and the knowledge that we could have killed them, but didn’t. I’m planning to use this.” I held up the confiscated stun gun.

Gallagher frowned. “You’d have to be within arm’s reach to use that. Let’s get you something bigger.” He headed down the hall toward the back door and I followed, bewildered until he stopped next to a door marked Armory.

The ID scanner next to the door still glowed a soft green, even though we’d taken out the main security system. Either Vandekamp had a backup or the door locks were on a different system than the collars.

Gallagher held the stolen employee ID beneath the wall scanner, and when the door unlocked, he pulled it open.

Inside the small room, we found rack after rack of automatic rifles, pistols, stun guns and...

He pulled an eighteen-inch baton from a bin full of others, and the cord plugged into it fell away. “Here.” Gallagher handed me the baton, and my thumb found a switch on the side, near the grip. When I turned it on, the stick hummed to life.

“A stun baton. I’ve never seen one of these.”

“They use them behind the scenes at the arena. The current runs down the outside of the stick as well as the end, so no one can take it from you. Don’t hold it anywhere but the rubber grip.”

I nodded. “Um...grab the rest of those, will you?”

He unplugged the other dozen or so batons and handed them to me. I clutched them in a bundle beneath one arm, and as we left the room, I had an idea.

“Can you destroy that?” I pointed at the card reader. “Without it, they may not be able to get to the rest of the weapons.” The door’s hinges were on the inside, so Vandekamp’s men couldn’t just remove them.

Gallagher gripped the scanner in both hands and wrenched it from the wall. Then he crushed it in both fists.

“Perfect. Okay, I’m going to pass these out to everyone who doesn’t have a natural defense. I need you to destroy all the other computers, starting with Vandekamp’s. He’ll have a backup of the collar software. He probably wrote it himself. And he might have a backup security system. His office is the last one on that left-hand hallway.”

Gallagher glanced down the hall, then turned back to me. “We’re not splitting up.”

“We don’t have time not to. Don’t worry, I’ll stick to the shadows. And I’m armed now.” I held up my activated baton for emphasis. “Meet me in the dormitory when you’re done here. Okay?”

He nodded reluctantly, then headed toward the other hallway.

“And Gallagher?”

“Yes?” He turned back to me.