Page 122 of Darcy
She’s still in there.
“Darcy!” I scream, throat burning as I cough through the smoke.
But my yell is just one of many, caught up amidst the cries of hundreds of shocked fans.
“If anyone’s still inside, they’redead!” the officer yells in my ear, desperation leaking into his tone. “Come on! You don’t know if it’s going to blow again!”
Like my body has been waiting for that one final word, all the fight leaves me. His grip on my torso changes from restraining to supportive as I collapse.
He’s right.
There’s no way anyone survived that. Amidst the thick dust, the crumbling arena is slowly becoming visible. The area where backstage was… is completely gone.
She’sgone.
In my chest, my heart crumples as the pain becomes too much and it shuts down protectively. I’m so numb that I barely feel the officer drag me farther away.
Forty
Darcy — Minutes Earlier…
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I double check the wires on the explosives cage a final time. It’s a rough, last-minute improv job, but the C-4 should trigger enough of the other combustibles to destroy the building.
My bandage is soaked through, and my blood is now painting me, making my hands slippery as I swipe bloody marks across my phone screen. My breathing is coming in choppy pants that don’t seem to fill my lungs, but thankfully, my drone’s video feed shows me that Dodger is finally leaving like I told him to. As much as I loved seeing Miguel get a kick in the teeth—literally—I need the band at a safe distance.
The chill creeping across my limbs is a bad sign.
Damn it. I’m better than this.
My thumbs are a blur over my phone screen as I start the final hack, wishing I’d automated the entire process. Every single Rosales-owned computer will soon be showing myGame Overscreensaver, and their wealth is already being funnelled into my shell accounts.
All that’s left to do is press the detonator.
I glance at the exit doors on my left, stumbling towards them. My coordination is failing as the blood loss starts to slow me down, but I don’t have time to worry about the wound. Already, I can hear the cartel starting to recover from what I’ve done. On my screen, Miguel starts to stir, one of his men stumbles closer and starts dragging him away as my drones continue to drop smaller frag grenades around them.
My thumb slides over the button as I pass through the first door. The countdown pops up straight away.
Ten.
I make it to the corridor.
Nine.
I trip, but grab hold of a steel edged black equipment case, using it to right myself as I head for the glowing green fire exit signs. The building is shaking, which isn’t helping. By the time I look back down at my phone, three more seconds have passed.
Dread pools in my stomach, and I open the group chat and send a single message.
D4rk4ngel
*heart emoji*
Four.
Damn it. I can do this. I press the power button eight times rapidly, activating my emergency beacon.
Just two doors to go until I’m out. A spurt of adrenaline pushes me forward a few more steps.
