Wildcard (Warcross #2)(75)

I shove myself against it. We burst into the stairwell, where the grid in my view abruptly reappears in crystal clear lines, highlighting the steps that wind up. In the hall we’d just left behind come the pops of gunshots.

Jax.

I force myself to move as Hideo seizes the banister and leaps up the stairs. His movements still seem exhausted, but at least he’s able to keep pace with me. We go up, up, up until we’ve sprinted three flights and the stairs end. I throw open the stairwell door and stumble into a new hall.

The first thing I see is a pair of figures hurtling toward us. My eyes go straight to the green grids overlaid on their figures. They’re real.

Guards.

The thought hits me just in time. I drop to a crouch and roll to the other side of the hall, swinging my leg out and catching one of them right at the ankles. He loses his balance and falls forward with a grunt.

The second guard twists around and points a weapon in my direction. I duck, bracing myself—but an instant later he goes flying as Hideo tackles him, ramming him against the wall. The guard throws a fist at Hideo’s face, but Hideo is too quick—he dodges, twists the man’s arm around his back, and shoves hard.

A sickening crunch, followed by a shriek of pain. The guard drops his weapon with a clatter. Hideo swipes it up, tucking it at his belt, and rushes to me as I scramble to my feet. Already, the sound of more guards behind us is approaching fast.

The panic room should be at the end of this hall.

We sprint down the gridded corridor. Ahead, it fades again into thick virtual mist, but there’s no time to stop and think about it now. We hurtle into the blind spot.

“Almost there,” I gasp out. But when I look to my side, Hideo’s green figure has also vanished from sight, swallowed in the fog.

I keep my hand running along the wall, feeling for doors. Hideo, I whisper, sending it through our Link. He doesn’t answer. Had everything connecting us shut down when we stepped into this zone?

A presence near me makes me reach a hand out. “Hideo?” I murmur.

It isn’t him. Instead, a steel silhouette emerges from the fog. Zero.

Jax. Had he gotten past her? He must have. Had he—the thought jolts through me, too terrible to linger on.

He seizes my arm and hurls me. I go flying across the hall and slam hard into the floor on my back. The impact knocks all the wind out of me. My eyes go wide. I gasp like a fish on land. Above me, Zero comes striding out of the mist, his masked face turned down in my direction.

I scramble backward on my hands and feet, my teeth clenched, edging next to the wall again and hunting desperately for the doors at the end of the corridor.

We’re not going to make it.

Zero raises an arm and aims down toward me. I try in vain to roll away.

As I move, another figure materializes beside me. Hideo. He’s in a crouch against the floor, and his green-gridded eyes are turned up to Zero, narrowed in rage. His bruised hands are clenched into tight fists. His voice emerges in a growl. “Don’t. Touch. Her.”

He throws himself at Zero with all his strength. It’s enough of a surprise attack to knock Zero backward, and the two of them hurtle to the floor in a crash. “Hurry, Emika!” Hideo shouts.

I hop to my feet and run my hand along the wall. Come on, come on.

And then I find it. The shape of the first door. Then, the second. My fingers halt on the groove of a third sliding door. The panic room.

I whirl to look back down the hall. Through the patches of fog emerge Hideo and Zero. Zero has the advantage of brute strength in his metal suit—but Hideo is fast on his feet, nimble where Zero has been slowed down by the injuries Jax has inflicted. Hideo kicks out at Zero’s metal chest, sending him back a step. Zero recovers too quickly. He whips a hand out and grabs Hideo’s neck, shoving him back against a wall. Then he raises a fist and hurls it into Hideo’s stomach.

Hideo lets out a choked cry.

I fumble for the panic room’s door handle until my fingers finally close around it. “Hideo!” I scream out as I yank the door open with all my strength. Farther down the hall, more guards are arriving on the scene.

Hideo glances in my direction. He clenches his teeth, pulls his legs up to his chest, and kicks at Zero as hard as he can. Once, twice. The third time, Zero’s fingers loosen slightly from around Hideo’s neck. It’s enough for him to slip free. Hideo hits the ground and runs toward me.

I reach out, seizing his arm as he approaches me, and pull us inside the panic room. I slide the door shut right as Zero gets to the entrance. The last thing I see before I snap the physical hinge across the door, locking us in, is the sight of Zero’s shielded face.

Then we’re in, the door sealing us behind a thick barrier of steel.

I fall backward onto the floor and scramble away from the door. On the other side comes the sound of pounding—Zero, or his guards, trying to break it down—but we must be behind so many layers that it’s hard to hear anything. Inside the room, panels line one wall, showing a series of views of the lab. My breaths come out in wheezing gasps.

Hideo utters a soft groan behind me. I turn to see him slumped against the wall, one hand clutching his side. Only now do I notice the dark red staining his shirt.

I drop to my knees beside him. “Shit,” I whisper, touching his arm. He winces as he gingerly moves his hand enough for me to see the wound. Between his trembling, bloodstained fingers is a deep gash, likely made by a blade.