Deviation (Clone Chronicles #2)(79)

A glance into the back shows Daniel slumped against the seat. His eyes are dark against the circles of exhaustion ringing them. He’s awake, but barely.

Linc stiffens underneath me and I sit up, already searching for a threat. I open my mouth to ask again, but Linc interrupts. “Get closer,” he says. The bass in his voice is deeper. He’s stressed.



I face forward again, still searching. Like before, I see nothing but buildings. A plume of smoke rises in the distance. I dismiss it as steam or exhaust billowing from a factory but then realize in all my trips here, I’ve never seen smoke like that before.

Obadiah presses lightly on the gas and the car rocks forward. We turn left and then right again, a block closer now. The smoke is much thicker here. Just above the building in front of us, I see pieces of what looks like ash raining down from the tips of the smoke pluming upward. They fall onto the rooftop of the abandoned office building obscuring our view.

I stare in confusion until another piece flutters onto the windshield. It burns from the edges in and then slowly disintegrates. “What is that?” I ask.

A loud boom sounds and the sky lights up, flashing red and orange before dying away. More pieces of ash fly but they aren’t falling, they’re shooting upward and sideways and in every direction. “Something’s on fire,” I say. My voice catches as I realize—

“No,” I choke out. “No.” I fumble for the door latch but Linc’s hands stop me.

“You can’t, Ven,” he says.

“Please tell me that’s not your safe house,” Daniel says. No one answers him. “Explains why it felt easy,” he mutters.

“Get closer,” Linc says.

“They’ll see us,” Obadiah argues.

“We have to know,” Linc tells him.

Obadiah sighs and eases forward. A right and then another right. We round the last turn and Obadiah stops. I cry out, the sound catching in my throat and coming out strangled.

“Shit,” Daniel says.

“He knew the entire time,” Obadiah breathes.

Linc is silent and, for the moment, so am I as we all take in what’s left of the warehouse. Even with the windows up, the smell of sulfur and burnt wood fills the car.

Do not think for one moment that any of your progress has been your own doing.

The memory of the words Titus spoke is a horrific and startling truth.

Despite the evidence before me, I don’t want to admit what I’m seeing. A soft sob rises in my throat. It escapes in a strangled sound. I press my hand to my mouth in an effort to swallow the rest.

He knew. I have no idea for how long, but he knew. Morton and the others, I’ve betrayed them. And my own chance at true freedom.

Another explosion goes off, this one rocking the car and rattling the glass. The last remaining stretch of wall collapses into the flames. Shards of metal and concrete and glass blow in every direction.

The safe house—or at least the parts of it visible from the street—crumbles and burns. There is nothing left. Nowhere to go. Something inside me breaks. Underneath it, all of the panic rushes in. I let it drown me, not even bothering to fight it. On the outside, my expression crumbles and hands become fists. I suck in a deep breath. Then I scream. And scream and scream and scream.