Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
There’s a twinge in my gut as if I’ve been stabbed. I’m surrounded by weapons and tools of destruction. This is worse than I could’ve imagined.
On my right is a case for different knives, boomerangs, and metal throwing stars. Some of them are the knives Rex probably used to kill Martin and carve up his other victims.
I’m panting like I’ve run a mile. It’s overwhelming, this evidence of a legacy of violence. Rex took all his billions and poured it into R&D to help him stalk and destroy his prey.
A part of me feels vindicated. I knew his depravity ran deep. But I had no idea it could be this massive, this monstrous.
Another part of me wonders if I’m his next victim.
I thought I had reached the point of no return before, but now I’m here on the literal cliff’s edge, facing the abyss and feeling the rocks crumble to dust at my feet.
There’s no use in stopping now. I’ve breached Rex’s lair. I might as well go on. I reach the end of the bridge and step onto a hexagon-shaped platform.
“Initiating welcome sequence.” A cool robotic voice makes me jump. I whirl and face a bank of screens. At least a hundred of them are suspended in a cluster that extends around half the platform.
The screens light up one by one. Each one shows a different view—a city street, an oak-filled park, a glittering high-rise with each window reflecting the sun. A vast network of surveillance covering the city of New Rome. People are walking their dogs, streaming in and out of shops, stopping at stands to buy coffee or hot dogs, oblivious to the surveillance.
I stand and shiver, facing the evidence of Rex’s hypervigilance. He has the means to surveil an entire city, and he has.
And then the screens blink off. When they come back on, they all bear the same image. Each one reflects my wide eyes and fear-filled face.
If I wasn’t before, I’m hyperventilating now.
“Welcome, Swallow,” the computer greets me. I bite back a scream.
I don’t realize I’ve been walking backward until I bump into a console. A bank of lights illuminate more of the recesses of the cave. There are more cases—of suits of armor and guns—as well as platforms holding whole cars and motorcycles.
There’s a rustling sound in the farthest corners of this vast cave. Something like birds—or bats. I dig my fingernails into my palms, seeking a bite of pain to keep me from screaming.
I can sense someone watching me. A darkness gathering in the gloom. And I know it’s him.
A shadow swells behind me, morphing into a figure who leaps from one suspended platform to another. Fear jolts through me.
I whirl and run back the way I came. The platform vibrates as my feet pound past the cases of weapons and armored suits. I can feel the darkness stalking me, following me, a predator reaching its claws out to snatch me.
I can’t let him catch me. I’ve crossed a line and learned his deepest, darkest secret. After this, there’s no turning back. It’s all over.
He won’t ever let me go.
My foot slips, and I skid into the platform railing. A shadow swoops over me. I duck, my breath tearing at my throat, and race for the elevator door.
I’m almost to the last set of stairs when I’m ripped off my feet. A hard arm holds me around my middle, and a dark voice rasps, “Going somewhere, little bird?”
28
Inara
A scream builds in my gut, only to die in my throat. My captor and I fly through the air, zooming over the cases and platforms. My robe flutters around my bare legs, and my limbs dangle, small and frail compared to the heavily armored figure holding me.
My captor lands with a thud that jars me. He lets me go, and I try to run, only to flail to a stop. My options are to leap off the platform or stand and face him. I turn and face the shadows.
He’s gone.
“Hello,” I call in a quavering whisper. He’s so quickly become one with the shadows. If I couldn’t sense Rex’s aura, his darkness, I’d think no one was there.
The suited figure reappears, his form coalescing out of nothing. I startle. He’s much closer to me, only a foot away. I lock my knees so I don’t collapse at his feet.
The figure facing me is familiar, if only because I’ve seen him on the grainy video from outside the Martin Building. The suit matches the one in the case, from the black, protective carapace covering his chest to the heavy combat boots. The suit adds bulk to his frame but is sleeker than military armor. Sleek and black—meant to blend in the shadows. His eyes are covered with a protective helmet that leaves the lower half of his face bare. As I stare up at him, the matte black glass retracts, leaving me facing the man I know.