Page 180 of Storm Caller

I take his hand, clutch it to my chest, and just drag in a series of long, relieved breaths.

A shot rings out overhead, striking the ceiling with a sharp ping, bringing me back to the moment. I instinctively throw myself over Rook’s body, worried about losing him to a stray bullet moments after pulling him back from the brink of . . .

Well . . . I can’t think about how close he was to the end.

“We’d better get out of here,” my father says. He takes Rook’s arm and helps him sit up, then hauls him to his feet. For a moment, I can’t seem to move. Why is he helping? Why is he here?

I recall what he said to General Sol only a few moments ago.

Just try to take her. Just fucking try.

Who is this man?

Rook is pale and struggling to keep his balance. He leans against my father, his legs unable to support his weight.

“How are we going to get him out of here?” Navy asks. “He can’t walk.”

“We’ll help him.” Henry appears at my side, and he takes Rook’s other arm, slinging it over his shoulder so he’s suspended between them.

“This way,” Henry says. “The others will deal with the general’s Guard and follow. Let’s head back the way we came.” Then he calls over his shoulder. “Someone get the drive from the computer. It should be finished downloading!”

Justin quickly crosses the room, yanks out the drive, and then pockets it. I scan the space, finding Danica and Brooklyn, along with the rest of the Fog, holding off the Circle Guard. I don’t want to leave them, but they’ll be close behind.

I frown when I realize General Sol is no longer in the room.

Where did she run off to?

Dr. Mowry huddles in the corner, his arms thrown over his head, clearly trying to avoid being noticed. I consider what we should do with him, but he’s no longer useful to us, and he can figure out what comes next on his own. Once the chancellors discover his betrayal, I doubt he’ll be long for this world. After his complicity in this horror, he deserves everything that’s coming to him.

“Let’s go!” Henry shouts.

We head back through the tunnels before reentering the room full of tanks.

The network. The very idea makes my skin crawl.

“We need proof,” I say, pulling my phone from my pocket. “We have to show them what The Shield was doing.”

Swallowing my distaste, I start recording as I walk down the rows bathed in a wash of amethyst light. I move in close to their faces, hoping people might recognize their loved ones. I’m sure their families have spent years wondering what happened to them. Maybe we can offer them closure.

Though I don’t know what’s worse. Not knowing, or this.

I walk quickly, scanning each row.

I understand we need to keep moving, but it feels like I need to honor every single one. I blow out a strangled breath when I spot a few children who never got the chance to grow up.

It just gets more and more awful.

“We have to find a way to shut this down,” Henry says.

“Most of the city will lose power,” my father says.

“I don’t care. We can’t allow this to continue.”

My father nods, and they carefully prop Rook against a wall, where he bends over with his hands braced on his knees. He’s already looking a little better, thanks to the color returning to his pale cheeks.

“These poor people,” Navy whispers, covering her mouth, tears filling her eyes. “How do we help them?”

“I’m not sure we can,” Justin answers. “Do you think they’re . . . in pain?”