Page 117 of Anarchy Chained: Alpha Thomas

It’s Cyan. Thank you for bringing the boys along too. We’ll bring you all back into the fold in just a few minutes. It’s over. You belong to Prodigy. You always have and you always will.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - THOMAS

“Ten. Nine. Eight…” The minions are counting down to world domination when the roar of a helicopter fills the room.

Cyan looks over at Uzi. I feel her—me—us—smile.

“Seven. Six…” A garage door begins rolling up on the other side of the thug-filled space. Everyone turns to watch. “Five. Four…” A hard thud as the helicopter lands on the roof. The enormous warehouse doors are halfway up.

“Three. Two. One…”

The anarchists burst forward, trampling each other as they push their way out of the warehouse and spill out into the city.

“Get them,” Uzi says to Cyan.

I feel my head nod. Then words come out of my mouth. My voice says, “Our purpose is chaos, but our prize will be the Alphas. All three of them will be back under Prodigy control. Just like we planned when we set Sadie loose.”

Uzi takes my hand and we follow their minions out of the warehouse.

Riots fill the streets as the protocol begins. Bus stop screens are flashing. Lights in all the open businesses are flashing. Traffic lights, and street lights. Every SkyEye phone is ringing.

The blinking lights and ringing phones create a trance that no one can escape from. We made sure of it. We planned this down to the very last detail. I see the moment things change. It happens right before my eyes. Their faces go slack. They stand completely still as anarchy explodes around them, their eyes trained on the signal flashing across their faces. Red. White. Red. White.

Then they all look up. The haze of the trance evaporates. They scream. They roar, arms in the air, waving whatever they’re holding in their hands. They strike each other. Some of them have nothing to hit back with, so they throw their phones. One phone hits a woman in the forehead and a burst of blood spurts from her split skin.

Cyan makes us look around, take it all in. Burns it into our memories. And then she spies the prize.

Lincoln, Case, Iziah and Sadie. The four of them are standing on the roof of the warehouse, staring down at us.

“There she is,” Cyan says through my mouth. I feel her reaching for Sadie’s mind. I try to stop it, but I can’t. I can’t. She’s not under the control of another mentalist right now. That place inside her mind where we fit together like a lock in a key is empty and open.

So I slip inside and Cyan takes over.

I’m sorry, Sadie, I say in my head. I’m sorry.