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Kira pulled up her left sleeve. I bent forward to look. The scars on her forearm matched the scorch marks on the stone. “Nothing was going to stop me,” she said. “Nothing.”
I could see tears brimming in her eyes. I didn’t know how to react, or what to say.
All I knew was that I was sad for her. Angry for her. Angry forme.After all, one of my ancestors had helped build this place. My family. My blood. In a twisted way, I felt partly responsible. I wrapped my hands tight around the bars and ripped them out of the stone one by one.
When I was done, the view was clear all the way to the mountains.
“You’re okay now,” I said. “It’s over.”
Kira stared off into the distance.
“I wish,” she said softly. “I wish.”
CHAPTER 101
THAT AFTERNOON, I asked the commando in charge to gather all the kids together in the gym. It was bigger than any class I’d ever taught. I stood in front of a massive wooden table and looked out over the crowd. Some of the students looked back at me with cold, dull eyes. But most of them just stared at the floor.
The older kids were in orange jumpsuits and cuffs. A lot of them were still bandaged up from the battle. The younger students were in oversized Red Cross T-shirts, like kids at a sleepaway camp.
A sturdy sergeant stood at my right side, legs apart, rifle at the ready. My personal bodyguard. Kira was standing on the other side. She’d found a microphone and connected it to the gym’s PA system. When I brought the mic up to my face, there was a short whistle of feedback. The noise got everybody’s attention.
“I want to read you all something,” I said. My voice boomed across the gym, loud and clear.
It was a tough audience. Zero interest. Zero expression. Even the creepy smiles were gone. I unfolded the sheet of paper I’d torn out of my great-grandfather’s journal back in the Fortress. I cleared my throat.
“An ancestor of mine wrote this a long time ago,” I said. “It was hidden away for almost a hundred years. But I believe somehow he meant for me to find it. It’s something I think you should hear. Maybe these words will help you as you move on and start over. Believe me, there is a better world than this place. There is a better life than the one you’ve all been living.”
I realized that my hands were shaking a bit. I looked over at Kira. She gave me a little nod. I started reading what my great-grandfather had written to inspire himself. Doc Savage’s personal code.
Let me strive, every moment of my life, to make myself better and better, to the best of my ability, so that all may profit by it. Let me think of the right, and lend all my assistance to those who need it, with no regard for anything but justice. Let me take what comes with a smile, without loss of courage. Let me be considerate of my country, of my fellow citizens and my associates in everything I say and do. Let me do right to all, and wrong to no man.
When I finished, the room was silent, except for some awkward coughs. I held the paper over my head. Like Moses with the Ten Commandments.
“Bullshit!” a female voice called out.
I heard a loud crack. A bullet punched a hole in the paper.
Everybody in the audience ducked or scattered, except for one person. A woman in an orange jumpsuit stepped forward from the middle of the crowd. Her dark hair was matted, and her face was swollen on one side. She had a pistol—and it was pointed at Kira.
“My God,” Kira gasped. “Irina!”
“Did you think I’d go that easily, Meed?” Irina shouted. “Do you think you’re the only one who knows how to survive?? How to come back??”
The sergeant had his rifle up.
“Drop the weapon!” he shouted.
Irina flicked her aim left and shot him through the forehead. He spun backward and landed with a heavy thud, his rifle underneath him. I crouched down, my heart racing. I felt Kira beside me. Irina stepped forward, picking her way through the students hugging the floor. She fired again. The bullet splintered the desk leg right over Kira’s head. There was nowhere to go, no way to move.
I glanced to my left. I saw the butt of a Glock in the dead soldier’s holster. I reached out and grabbed it. With my other hand, I shoved Kira down behind me. I heard another crack and felt the impact—like I’d been punched in the chest by a prizefighter. I whipped the gun up and squeezed the trigger. Irina flew backward and landed hard on the wood floor. There was a neat purple hole in her chest.
A squad of commandos burst in from outside, rifles raised. Two of them rushed forward to the dead sergeant. One of them stopped and checked for Irina’s pulse. I knew he wouldn’t find one. He looked up at me and saw the pistol.
“Dead, sir,” he said. “Perfect shot.”
I dropped the gun onto the floor. I winced and put a hand over my sore chest. Kira reached over and yanked my shirt open. I looked down. There was a circular red welt above my left pec, with a flattened piece of metal in the center. I pried the bullet out of my skin and dropped it onto the floor. Kira didn’t say anything. She just held my arm and stared at me. I pushed her away and stood up. I walked past Irina’s body and headed for the door.
The crowd parted like the Red Sea.
