Page 62 of Anarchy Chained: Alpha Thomas

“To run, I guess. Can you stand?”

He gets to his feet just fine, all healed up from the massive crash, then bends down to grab my upper arm and pulls. I struggle, trying to get my bad leg to move, but he ends up doing all the work. I lean against the wall, huffing air and trying not to notice that my legs are definitely not ready for running.

“I’m not healed,” I say.

“I’ll help you,” he says, putting my arm across his broad back so I can hold on to him.

He takes a step, but I stumble. “I can’t do it,” I say. “I won’t be able to walk yet.”

“I’ll carry you,” he says, leaning down into my neck. “We can’t just let them get us. We have to try something.”

“You go,” I say, wincing as I put pressure on my leg. “You go and I’ll stay here.”

“No, fuck that. I’m not leaving you behind. That’s bullshit. I’ll carry you.” He bends down and sweeps me up into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck, so tired. Way too tired to escape anything right now.

We start walking, but it’s very clear within only a few steps that his leg isn’t completely healed either. He limps along, tripping over debris from the crash. We don’t go down, but it’s pretty evident that this escape will never happen. We will never get away. There is nothing around us but black. We have no eyes in this place.

He blindly kicks debris away with his foot, takes a few more steps, then stumbles again.

“Sullivan,” I say. “It’s over. We’re going to hurt ourselves even more if we keep going.”

“I’ll just use the wall as a guide,” he says, kicking his foot forward until he hits the hard stone. “I’m not gonna let them have you.”

“I’ll be OK,” I say. But it’s touching that someone I barely know… even… cares. I don’t know what my life was like before this week, but I doubt it was good.

“No, Sadie. You won’t. I’ll be OK. Because Thomas will just take over again. They’ll pump us with drugs and I’ll disappear. I’ll be nothing but chained anarchy in his head again. But you will not be OK and I won’t let them have you.”

I have nothing to say to that. I just lean my head into his shoulder and close my eyes. I have no idea how far away from the crash we make it before the little popping noises become bigger popping noises, but my best guess is not more than twenty or thirty feet.

We won’t escape.

Sullivan stops walking. Leans his back against the wall and sighs. “I’m sorry,” he says, putting me down.

I hold on to him, even when both my feet are back on the ground. He’s all I have. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“No. It’s not, but—”

An explosion cuts his words off. Then there’s light coming through up ahead. Sparks are flying, illuminating the green gas, which has started to pour into the tunnel.

“They’re cutting now,” Sullivan says. “They’ve got a blow torch and they’re cutting a door. They’ll be here soon.”

I start coughing, the gas entering my lungs. One breath is all it takes. One inhalation of the poison and I’m down. Choking and wheezing. Unable to get enough air into my lungs.

“I’m sorry, Sadie,” Sullivan says. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

The world goes black, then lights up again. But only in my head.

Sadie, Sadie, Sadie.

They’re here.

They’ve come for us. Come to take us back and lock us up in their prison of darkness.