The Replaced(20)

Jett picked it up and rolled it between his fingers. “It’s a beanbag.” It was smaller than a golf ball and nearly as dense. “Damn,” he said, awed. “If this is what you were shot with, no wonder you’re hurting. Willow . . .” His voice drifted away. “If they got her with these . . . well, then she must be . . .” He didn’t finish. “Shot at a high velocity, this could be lethal to a regular person.” My gut recoiled over the way he said “regular person,” like I needed to be reminded we weren’t normal. “To us”—he looked at Simon sympathetically—“it must suck. Hurts like hell, I bet—maybe even incapacitates us temporarily—but probably won’t kill us. Looks like they’ve come up with the perfect weapon,” he added, tossing the thing in the air and catching it. “Because it also won’t make us bleed. It’s low risk for the No-Suchers.”

“How’s your shoulder?” I asked.

Simon peeled away the collar of his shirt. Beneath it I could see the bruises—large and deep and dark purple, but they were already visibly retreating. It was fascinating to watch. “It’ll be fine.”

“Good,” I said, inhaling as I made a decision. “Because I can’t do this. I can’t abandon her.”

Simon’s brows met over the bridge of his nose. “Kyra, there’s nothing we can do for her now. This is no longer a sneak attack. Those guys know we’re here and they’ll be halfway expecting us to come back for her.”

I shook my head, refusing to accept his explanation. “She would try if it were one of us.” I didn’t know if that was true or not, but it sounded like the thing to say.

From the other side of Natty, Thom piped up. “Simon’s right. It’s too late for her. They’d be waiting for us if we tried to go back again. She knew the risks when we went in. We all did.”

I closed my eyes at the word “risks.” Nausea choked me, and throwing up became a very real possibility. I’d seen that lab and the equipment they had, and I knew the kind of person Agent Truman was.

Whatever happened to Willow in there was all my fault, because I’d been so desperate to find Tyler. Just like it had been my fault when Tyler got sick because I didn’t know my own blood was toxic.

I was a killer, whether I meant to be or not—the kind of person no one, not even other Returned, apparently, should get too close to.

I looked around at the others in the car with me—Thom, Natty, Jett, and Simon—and wondered which of them would be next if I didn’t put an end to this.

I had to do something.

“I don’t care what you say, or what any of you think might happen,” I said. Before Thom could stop me, I grabbed his gun and was out the door when I shouted back to them, “You can come with me or not, but I’m not leaving without Willow.”

Natty jumped out behind me, plucking the gun away before I realized what she was doing. “I’m with you. But here, if you’re gonna use that thing, let’s give you a crash course.”

She came up behind me and showed me how to wrap my fingers around the black grip of the gun. “Use both hands for maximum support. This,” she instructed, “is the safety. On this gun, you slide it like this . . .” She flicked a small black switch. “Since you haven’t done this before, get as close as you can and try to keep the gun in line with your elbow.” She moved through the brief lesson effortlessly. “For now,” she finished, “keep the safety on, and tuck it back here.” She slipped it in the back of my jeans, away from view but still within reach.

Simon was out of the SUV now too, and I knew he’d reluctantly joined our mission. “You sure you can shoot someone?”

Any qualms I might’ve had evaporated the minute Agent Truman had fired at us. “Let’s hope so.” I glanced over my shoulder, to where Jett had the driver’s side window down. Thom was already out of the vehicle, standing decisively close to Natty. “What about those key-card things? Got any more of those? That thing was sorta awesome.”

Jett grinned, but shook his head. “Sorry, that was a prototype. But I’ll pass your comments on to R and D.”

“R and D?” I repeated uncertainly. Who was Jett even talking about?

Simon just rolled his eyes. “It’s Jett. Jett is Research and Development. Now come on, we don’t have time for this. The longer we wait, the more likely they are to have their security up and running.”

“I got that part covered. I’m still in their system.” Jett pulled out his laptop. “I’ll log in remotely and buy you about three minutes. After that, they’ll override me and have their cameras up and running again. It’s the best I can do, so better get a move on.”

We moved, all right. And three minutes were more than enough to get us back inside. But that wasn’t the hard part. The entrance was easy—the glass door was busted out and most of the personnel were still off searching for us.

The hard part would be facing Agent Truman and his hazmat army.

The harder part would be finding Willow and saving her ass.

The hardest part would be getting us all out again in one piece.

The light on the camera above the main entrance was off. As far as I could tell, it was only a matter of seconds before Jett’s hold on their system was up and we’d be surrounded. We stayed in formation, the way Simon told us—me in front, Natty right behind me, and Thom and Simon flanking her. We moved like we meant business and showed no fear, even though my blood was pumping hard and fast and white-hot.