Page 181 of Storm Caller

We all glance at Rook, who’s still breathing heavily.

“Did you feel it?” I ask, scared to hear the answer.

He pauses before speaking. “I was . . . aware,” he says, clutching a hand to his chest like it hurts to talk. “It felt like I was empty. Like there was nothing of me left, just this . . . shell. It was a strange kind of agony, knowing I was trapped, but unable to move or do anything about it.

“And every few minutes, I’d feel a pulse of Spark.”

He hesitates again, clearly gathering his thoughts. I approach and drop to my heels, peering up into his face.

“What happened?” I ask, laying a hand on his knee.

“It was like that moment when we touch Spark . . . only it lasted so much longer. That pain. That agony tearing through me.” His voice catches on the last few words. Then he whispers, “It was endless.”

“Oh, Rook,” I say, tucking back a piece of his hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“Do you think it’s the same for them?” Navy asks carefully.

We all turn our gazes to the tanks and the helpless people floating inside.

“I don’t know,” Rook answers.

Even if it’s only a fraction of that same torturous pain, I can’t imagine what it must be like to endure that every day for years.

“Skies,” I whisper, then shake my head. “We don’t just need to shut it down. We need to destroy it. We have to find a way to stop them from ever doing this again.”

“How?” Navy asks.

“Does Edward have an idea?” I ask Henry.

I push myself back up and start recording again, tilting my camera at various angles to capture everything. The computers. The electrical panels. The wires running from the tanks and across the ceiling.

I want proof of everything.

I want there to be no doubt about what happened here.

More people, more faces, more innocent lives stolen. And then I round a corner and freeze.

My blood turns cold, and my stomach drops to my feet.

My heart stops.

Stutters.

Skips a beat.

Raine.

63

“Dad!” I scream. “Daaaaad!”

I stumble toward the tank, peering up, trying to get a better look at his face.

This has to be a mistake.

The glass and water distort everyone’s features a little bit, but no, I’m sure it’s him.

My heart batters behind my ribs, and my breath turns to mud.