Page 38 of Survivor
The bridge is dark. Only base systems are up. Xavier has been trying to hack into the systems for half an hour. Time is slipping by. Rogue will be in the tunnels by now.
My body feels tight, itchy with the need to act.
“Xavier?”
He doesn’t even look at me from his spot in the swivel seat at the main computer. “Dammit, Tide, I’m doing my best here.”
He hits a stream of keys and then freezes, hands hovering above the keyboard. Data scrolls up the screen, and then a flashing image appears, red and angry with letters beneath.
“You have thirty seconds to provide a passcode before voiding systems engage.”
The room rumbles.
“Shit.” Lore points to the ceiling. “Vents just opened up. They’re going to fill the room with gas. Probably poisonous.”
“Shit.” Xavier wipes the back of his sleeve across his forehead.
I squeeze Xavier’s shoulder. “Can you bypass it?”
But Xavier is already back at it, typing like a madman, streams of code too fast for me to catch, too complex for my rudimentary skills. This is Xavier’s forte.
A timer ticks at the corner of the screen. Ten seconds left. A soft hiss fills the room. Gas cylinders engaging.
My heart is in my mouth.
Five. Four. Three. Two.
Xavier hits enter. The screen goes black. The pulse in my throat is beating so hard I think it might burst.
And then the whole room lights up. Every monitor, every screen. Blinking fucking lights.
Xavier laces his hands atop his head and puffs out his cheeks. “We’re in.”
22
The chamber had to have been an addition to the map. An extra little something to make things interesting, which meant the schematics were off, but I kept to the route in my head and was back on track in no time.
If my memory served me right, the access tunnel was around this corner. I was almost home free. My vision was clear again, and I didn’t feel like I was about to pass out. My body was recovering from the berserker rage, but it wouldn’t be back on form for a few hours yet. Hopefully I’d be done with this damn gauntlet way before then.
I took the turn and froze.
A figure blocked my path.
Leather-face guy.
He was big up close. Broad. Huge hands. Hands that could make me see stuff I didn’t want to.
Shit, this was the last thing I needed. “Look. You don’t have to do this.” I held up my palms in a placating gesture.
No weapons meant I’d need to get close to take him down, but his ability meant I couldn’t let him touch my skin.
“I need the money.” His voice was a rasp. “Nothing personal.”
“You think murder isn’t personal?”
I could still feel blur guy’s pulse beating beneath my hands. Regardless of the circumstances, murder was always personal. It was a stain that could never be removed.
“You’re here,” he said. “You agreed.”
