he whispered, his voice fading. 'And I'm glad I met you. I … I love you.' On the last word, his head fell forward, his chest falling and not rising again, and then Claire was alone. Steve was gone.
SEVENTEEN
Chris ran, knowing that their time was short as long as Alexia Ashford was alive, afraid that she might already have gotten to Claire. 'Claire!' he shouted, banging his fist on every door he passed. It didn't matter, his shouting; if Alexia was even half as powerful as he suspected, she already knew
where he was … and where Claire was. Please, please don't hurt her, he thought, the thought repeating itself as he ran down another hall, through a door, another hall, and another. He didn't know if anything could stop Alexia, but if he could find Claire and get them to the evac elevator, he meant to try and trigger the self-destruct system before leaving. Alexia was halfway to omnipotence and purely evil, she was an apocalypse waiting to happen, and she had to be stopped.
'Claire!'
Through a familiar hallway, another Spencer estate copy, through a door that opened into some kind of shadowy prison, holding cells lining the walls. He had to find her, if he couldn't, he couldn't leave. He wanted Alexia dead, but he wouldn't endanger Claire's life, not for anything, and getting her out took absolute priority
– and somebody was crying behind one of the closed doors. Chris stopped running and listened, trying not to breathe, tuning out the relentless banging of a virus carrier locked in another cell. Another gasping wail… Claire, oh, thank God you're alive!
He ripped open the door, ready to hurt anything even close to her and saw her sitting on the floor, sobbing, her arms wrapped around a young man, his naked body bruised and pitiful. He was dead.
Ah, shit.
It could only be Steve, Claire's friend, and though he was sorry for the boy he'd never met, Chris's heart was breaking for her. She looked so fragile, so alone… … something else to lay at Alexia's doorstep. Chris had no doubt that Steve had died because of that crazy bitch. But as much as he wanted to sit down and comfort Claire, to hold her hand and let her grieve, he knew they had to get out. 'We have to go now, Claire,' he said, as gently as possible and was relieved when she nodded, carefully laying her friend down, closing his eyes with one trembling hand. She kissed him on the forehead and then stood up. 'Okay,' she said, nodding again. 'I'm ready.' She didn't look back, and in spite of everything, he was proud of her. She was strong, stronger than he would have been if he'd been asked to leave someone he'd cared about. Together, they ran back into the hall, Chris figuring that they had to be close to the southwest corner of the building, where he'd landed the jet and seen the emergency evacuation elevator. The self-destruct system was presumably close enough to the elevator to make a fast escape possible; if they could just get to that elevator, he'd check every floor on the way up. There were stairs at the south end of the hall, and Chris
ran for them, Claire at his side. He could feel the seconds ticking past as they hurried up the steps, felt like time was closing in on them, that Alexia was finished playing. Through the door at the top of the stairs, running out onto a giant metal grid platform and Chris laughed out loud when he looked behind them, saw the nondescript doors of the emergency elevator. 'What?' Claire asked. He motioned at the doors, grinning. 'That'll take us straight to the jet.'
Claire nodded, not smiling but she looked relieved.
'Good. Let's go.'
Chris had turned back to look at the wall across from the hit. 'I've got to check something first,' he said, wanting to take a closer look at the corner door, it looked Like a security door. 'You go, I'll be right there.' 'Forget it,' Claire said firmly. She walked after him, her eyes red from crying but her chin set and determined. 'No way we're splitting up again.' Chris leaned down to look at the door's locking mechanism and sighed, standing back up. They were probably at the self-destruct system already; the lock was complicated and unique, requiring a key he didn't have. Besides which, to the right of the door was a locked-down grenade launcher of some kind, one he didn't recognize, the bar holding it down labeled emergency release only. Just as well, we should get out while we still can, he thought, but wasn't happy about it. How much more powerful would Alexia become before another chance like this one? 'Hey, hey, wait a sec,' Claire said, and began rummaging through the small pack around her waist. Before he could ask, she was holding up a slender metal key, shaped like a dragonfly. There was no question that it would fit the lock. 'I found it back at Rockfort,' she said, bending over and pressing it into the indentation. It fit perfectly, the lock releasing with a solid metallic clink.
'You're going to set off the self-destruct, aren't you,' Claire said, not really a question. 'Do you have the code?'
Chris didn't really answer, thinking that there were an amazing number of coincidences in life, and sometimes, they worked to one's advantage. 'Code Veronica,' he said softly, and pulled the door open, ready to take it all down, understanding that it was meant to be.
EIGHTEEN
The boy was dead, but the girl wasn't. And now the young man was trying to destroy Alexia's home, and it wasn't a game or an experiment or something to observe, he had to die, in pain and misery. How had he dared to consider such a thing? He should be on his knees in front of her, a worthless supplicant for her to do with as she wished, how dare he? Alexia saw the siblings walking away from their treacherous deed, felt them wishing to leave as the automated sequence began, lights and sounds flashing, systems shutting down throughout the terminal. Their perfidy was useless, of course. She would be able to stop the destruct sequence with a minimum of effort, using her control over the organic to sever every connection in the facility, but it was the thought behind the act that so infuriated her. He had witnessed the glory of her capabilities, he had seen it and fled in terror … and yet he could fancy himself worthy to take a life such as hers? Alexia gathered herself, drawing all of her power in, becoming complete. She knew that the young man had picked up a weapon that had been sitting next to the keyboard, a revolver that someone had left behind. She didn't object, knowing that the firearm would give him hope, and that for a victory to be complete, the victor had to take everything. She would take his hope, she would take his sister's life and then she would take his. When she was whole, she imagined herself becoming liquid, traveling through the structure of her surroundings as easily as the organic extensions she controlled, and then she was doing so, moving to confront the interlopers. They were startled, as if they'd expected to succeed. She slid out from inside her organic carrier, unfolding herself, turning to look into their dull eyes, their wincing sheep's faces. She watched them watch her, curious in spite of her anger. They argued in front of her, he insisting that he would 'handle' things, that the girl should flee. The girl accepted, but reluctantly, insisting in turn that he should survive. Following that ludicrous statement, the girl turned and ran for the elevator. Alexia moved to intercept, raising her hand to smite the girl… … and a perforation opened in her flesh, distracting her. A bullet had entered her body. She turned and smiled at him, at the gun in his hand, and reached into herself, pulling the bullet out and tossing it toward him. As gratifying as his expression was, the girl was gone by the time she turned back. It was time to expand her boundaries, Alexia decided. To show him what she was, what she could do … and
to put the fear of God into him, because as she closed her eyes, imagining, wishing, she stopped being Alexia Ashford and became Wrath, divine and merciless.
NINETEEN
'The self-destruct sequence has been activated,' a recording intoned, reverberating through the room, crowding out the rest of its message. 'You have four minutes thirty seconds to reach minimum safe distance.'
