The Countdown (The Taking #3)(78)

Where was everyone? After the chaos of yesterday, I had a hard time believing this was one massive coffee break.

My heart wedged in my throat.

Beside me, Tyler’s hand slipped around mine as if he, too, sensed the wrongness of everything being so . . . vacant.

“I’m gonna get a head count. See what we’re up against.” Agent Truman’s voice was hushed.

“Buddy system,” I insisted almost silently, even though it sounded childish. “We stick together.”

“Oh. You were serious with that?” he asked, already easing away. “I won’t be long.”

“And Tyler could—” I began, just as Agent Truman disappeared into the shadows. What was the point of having a plan—a system—if he was going to throw it out the window the first chance he got? It was a stupid risk. Tyler could do a better job feeling out who was where.

Tyler reached out and tugged my hand. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something,” he whispered.

“What is it?” I asked distractedly. The uneasy feeling that something was wrong deepened as we moved from one lab to the next.

“It’s about what you told me . . . before.”

“Uh-huh . . .”

My chest went tight all at once as I stabbed Tyler with a wide-eyed warning. Voices! I tried to convey.

But Tyler was three steps ahead of me, and was already dragging me out of the way, pushing me through one of the doorways. I gripped his hand with both of mine, until it felt like my knuckles would pop . . . as we waited and listened.

There were two of them. Men wearing lab coats and talking casually, as if this really were a coffee break. They ambled past us, while the entire time my shoulders were knotted and tight.

When they were gone, Tyler and I stayed where we were . . . still attuned to everything around us, in case they or someone . . . anyone came back.

When I inhaled, I realized I’d been holding my breath the entire time.

Tyler was holding his too, but for a different reason.

Adam.

We were in the lab where they stored all those enormous canisters, including Adam’s. Seeing them again gave me goose bumps. But seeing Adam . . .

Tyler eased forward, and I realized this was where he’d been leading us all along. That he felt what I did . . . drawn to the M’alue.

He . . . we . . . the three of us were the same.

Time became irrelevant as we neared him. Adam woke immediately, making me think he sensed us as strongly as we sensed him.

It’s okay. We’re here now, I thought, fairly convinced he knew what I was trying to suggest to him.

Tyler lifted his hand, the one holding mine and pressed it to the glass. Adam responded in kind, putting his unusual hand there too.

It won’t be much longer . . . The words flashed through my head, making me flinch.

It wasn’t my thought. Those weren’t my words, but I knew whose they were. Tyler’s. I was in Tyler’s head now too.

Adam’s response came next, Three hands, one mind.

I momentarily forgot everything else . . . the mission or being caught. We were doing this. We were absolutely-totally-100-percent communicating without exchanging so much as a single sound.

I turned to Tyler and grinned.

I know, he said back to me, clear as day, a huge smile lighting up his face.

“Look what I found.”

I dropped my hand from the canister, and from Tyler’s, and spun around. Whatever bond we’d been locked in was severed instantly.

It was Agent Truman, and his face was all smug as he held up a gun like it was a trophy.

“You didn’t just find that,” I accused. “Who’d you take it from?”

“Security guard,” he said, pointing the barrel down and inspecting it. “He won’t be needing it.”

“Dude, what part of I have superpowers don’t you understand? You don’t need it.” I threw my hands in the air. “I hope you didn’t do anything . . .” I scowled. “Permanent.”

“If you’re asking, did I kill him? Then no, guy’s still breathing. But that’s about all he’s doin’ right now.” He checked the rounds quickly and then reassembled the gun. “If you’re asking me to give this baby up, forget it. I don’t have superpowers.”

I shook my head. “Fine, just don’t shoot anyone.”

“So what’d you decide? About that . . .” Agent Truman waved the gun toward Adam and my gut clenched. “That thing?”

“That thing is intelligent, and in pain. We need to get him out of there,” Tyler said.

“But how do you plan to do that?” Agent Truman asked.

I moved over to the control panel and smirked at him. “Try to keep up,” I said smugly as I let my hands hover over the instruments in front of me. They were all foreign to me—much more Jett’s or my dad’s territory than mine. But it didn’t matter; I could feel the electricity pulsing beneath my palms. “I’ve got superpowers.”

Above us, the lights surged as if all the power was draining from the room. It’s me, I thought. I’m doing that.

“Wait,” Tyler said as he grabbed my arm. “We’re not alone.”

But it was too late.

Dr. Clarke stepped out from the shadows, right behind Adam’s canister. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away from him,” she told us. In one hand she was clutching one of the rubber tubes that disappeared directly into the blue liquid Adam was suspended in. In the other she held a syringe. She plunged the needle into the tube. Just the slightest nudge from her thumb was all it would take. “Don’t make me kill him.” Her voice left little doubt whether she was serious or not.