Page 1 of Unchained

CHAPTER 1

Brooks slammed his palms against the door’s metal arm. An alarm screeched. He didn’t stop running. The desert’s cool night air hit his bare chest but did nothing to fan his flaming skin. Adrenaline pumped through him. He’d escaped. And they’d do anything to get him—and the drug coursing through his veins—back.

“Get him!”

“Don’t fire!”

The shouts behind him made him run faster. Dirt and rocks cut into the soles of his feet, but the sensation barely punched through his consciousness. The eight-foot-high chain-link fence came into view. The wretched drug would enable him to scale it. He jumped and latched onto the fence. His fingers twisted around the tight metal, and he scurried to the top. As he swung his body over the barbed wire, the thorns ripped at his flesh. Hot blood seared his abdomen as he sailed through the air. His ligaments twanged as he landed on his feet, sending a shock wave through his body.

He didn’t slow.

He charged for the line of trees a few meters ahead. They’d soon be on him with their tranquilizer darts and stun guns. Nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. But this time, he wouldn’t get dragged back to their twisted fucking lab.

Branches whipped his face and body as he ran through the woods. His eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness, the drug making him hyperaware of his surroundings.

Flashlights bobbed behind him. The guards wouldn’t stop their pursuit until they caught him. He was worth too much to kill, and he knew too much to be allowed to escape. A fallen log appeared in his path. He leaped off it and lunged to the ground. A large tree came into view. He skirted around it and then pressed his back to the trunk. The stiff bark scraped his back as his chest rose and fell. His blood pressure would be through the roof. The drug had that effect.

Bastards.

This time, he’d escaped before they’d unleashed him on someone. Pain ricocheted through his skull, reminding him that if he didn’t release the torrents of energy, he’d die. Slowing his breath didn’t work. Nothing fucking worked except going on a rampage or seeing his hands inflict carnage on another person. The thought brought him to his knees. No more. Never again.

If he didn’t escape tonight, he’d find a way to take his life. Trapping his energy after an injection was one way, but that was easier said than done—human beings were wired to survive. Footsteps rustled over fallen leaves.

Brooks closed his eyes and pressed his fists into the trunk at his sides as he stood.

Snap

A twig gave away. They were close. He shifted to peer around the side of the tree. Flashlights illuminated the path ahead of the three men. In a few paces, they’d pass him. He shuffled around the tree as they moved, staying out of sight, his bare feet silent on the cool, damp earth.

“He can’t be far,” said one of the guards.

“Are you kidding?” said another. “That monster can run like a cheetah. I almost hope he’s far.”

Brooks’s lips twitched. He’d make these half-wits wish they’d never touched him. Each one of them had abused him in one way or another. Even if just by their silence. His body temperature rose. Sweat covered his brow. Beneath his skin, his veins twitched, the drug almost too much for them to contain. It was now or never.

He stepped around the trunk and moved behind them, locking his sights on the bald guard—Charlie. The one who’d shocked him with a stun gun the last time he tried to escape. In one quick movement, Brooks advanced, grabbed Charlie’s head from behind, and cracked his neck to the side. The man’s lifeless body fell to the ground.

The two other guards whipped around, guns aimed. “Hands in the air!”

Brooks smiled. He kicked his foot out, knocking the sniper from Andy’s hands and sending the man flying backward. The other guard, Jose, fired rubber bullets. Brooks’s chest burned with the impact of each one. He caught the weapon, tore it from the man’s fingers, and jabbed it into Jose’s face. Blood sprayed through the air. Jose cried out and dropped to his knees.

Andy dove for Brooks’s waist but didn’t take him down. Brooks jabbed his elbow into the back of Andy’s skull once, twice, three times. Andy’s hands loosened, and he flopped to the ground.

Crunch

The butt of Jose’s gun hit Brooks’s mouth. His brain flickered and then cleared. He locked his gaze on Jose like a laser beam. His temper flared and crackled, creating a red vignette around his vision. “You fucker,” he breathed. He grabbed the scuff of Jose’s collar and lifted the two-hundred-and-fifty-pound body up. “You sick sonofabitch. You like hurting people, huh? You like watching me murder all those fucking people?” His voice boomed thick and loud. The drug made the sound foreign to his own ears.

Jose grappled at his wrists. “You’re wrong. I—”

“It’s your turn.” Brooks smashed Jose’s body against the tree. He pulled back his fist, held him in position with his free hand, and then pummeled him in the stomach. Brooks’s blood pressure lowered as he let out the pent-up rage the drug and his imprisonment had inflicted.

Crunch, crack, crunch

Ribs broke with each blow of his fist, but he wasn’t done.

Cold metal pressed into Brooks’s neck.

Crack! Sizzle!

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