Spirit

Michael nodded. “And gas lines.”

“Holy crap,” whispered Becca. “She could blow up the schools.”

Hunter wanted to think that Calla didn’t have it in her—but he’d seen the carnage at the carnival. He’d walked into houses that she’d personally burned. “Can the tunnels be accessed from outside the school?” said Hunter.

“No,” said Michael. “There are access points in a few classrooms and at the back of the auditorium.”

“How do you know this?” said Nick.

“Maybe I occasionally used them. You guys aren’t the only ones who got crap in school, you know.”

“We can’t just go rushing in there,” said Hunter. “If we spook those kids, they could bring the place down on top of us.”

“They might not even be there now,” said Michael. “Why sit in the tunnels all weekend when they can just walk in the front door with everyone else and not arouse a bit of suspicion?”

“Noah and Calla are missing,” said Becca. “People would notice if they showed up for school.”

“I don’t know,” said Chris. “If they’re missing, people wouldn’t be looking for them to walk in the front doors of the middle school. They might not be noticed. Especially if they didn’t go to class.”

“So . . . what?” said Hunter. “We risk everyone at school by waiting for class to start?”

“No,” said Michael. “We’ll have the schools evacuated before first period begins.”

Hunter frowned. “How the hell are you going to do that?”

“Easy,” said Michael. “We’ll call in a bomb threat.”

CHAPTER 33

Hunter couldn’t believe he was at school. He felt like he’d drunk an entire pot of coffee in one swig. His nerves were shot.

Actually, a pot of coffee didn’t sound like a bad idea.

He hadn’t slept at all last night.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Kate.

The arrows.

The blood.

The way she sank into the earth.

Focus.

The first bell hadn’t rung yet, and the hallways were packed. Kids on cell phones, checking lockers, laughing, making out, arguing. Hundreds of kids. Thousands, if you counted the middle school.

Today they all had a target on their backs.

Sweat was collecting under his collar. He hung close to the auditorium doors, pretending to be texting.

Really, he was just running his fingers over the blank face of Kate’s phone.

The Merricks’ plan was thin. There was a chance they wouldn’t succeed, that Calla and her crew would blow this whole place to smithereens.

Actually, as a rescue mission, this whole plan kind of sucked. Too many variables.

Too many chances for the wrong people to escape, and for the good guys to get hurt. Again.

So Hunter had come up with his own plan.

He pressed the button to turn on the phone. He watched the little icons light up. Cell signal. WiFi.

GPS.

Then he shoved the phone in his pocket. It would only be a matter of time before Silver showed up.

The fire alarms went off, and Hunter jumped a mile. The sound slammed into his head and caused an immediate pulsing headache.

Becca had carried out her part. The bomb threat had been made.

Students immediately started bunching around the exits.

He ducked through the auditorium doors. The alarms were louder in here, echoing because of the acoustics.

Now Hunter just needed to get the Merricks out, too.

They were stationed all over the school. Hunter pulled out the disposable phone Michael had given him. He’d lied to them so many times—would they trust him now? He dashed out a quick group text to all of them.

Found Calla & kids in aud! Bolted. Heading for strip mall. Need backup!

Their replies started coming in almost instantly. They were abandoning their posts to help him. The strip mall was at least half a mile down from the school.

And completely safe.

Hunter found the trap door to the tunnels without any difficulty, a heavy plank of steel secured with nothing more than a double-end snap and a chain. A ladder led the way into darkness. Hunter’s feet found one rung, then the next. The alarms caught the walls of this chamber and echoed, setting up a pulse in his head.

His pocket buzzed. Gabriel.

Don’t do anything stupid. Wait for us.

If only he knew.

Hunter had expected darkness, but once he moved past the square of light from the hatch, the tunnel swallowed him up. Hunter couldn’t see an inch in front of his face. His hands found pipes, concrete walls, rusted steel supports.

He opened his senses, looking for anything.

God, he’d kill for something to silence those damn alarms.

Water. Water everywhere, locked in pipes, dripping down the walls, puddling under his feet. And gas in these lines, enough explosive potential to level half the city. Sitting on the beach with Kate, he’d had access to a perfect circle of Elemental power, with the sand, the water, the fire, and the breeze. Although everything here was manufactured, this space was just as perfect.

Hunter turned a corner, and the alarms faded. The darkness somehow became more absolute, almost smothering. He could hear himself breathing. He could almost hear his own heartbeat.

His pocket buzzed again.

We’re in the parking lot. Where R you?

Hunter turned the phone off.

He forced his senses farther. Water. Gas. Concrete. The air was stale down here, lacking current. He fed a little power into the water, pressing a hand to the wall where it dripped, begging for direction.

At first, nothing. Then . . . this way.

Another path through darkness. He must have passed below another hatch because the alarms became briefly louder before silencing. Another turn. Then another.

Then the air whispered that someone was nearby.

Hunter froze, his hand finding his gun.

This way.

He turned another corner, moving cautiously. He saw light, the very palest light, just around the next bend in the tunnel.

He kept his gun out and stepped around the edge.

And there they were. Half a dozen teenagers sitting under one lone penlight strung from the ceiling.

They froze when he appeared. Half looked like they wanted to run—and a few looked ready for a fight.

Michael had been wrong. They probably had been living in the tunnels all weekend. Maybe longer. Hunter could feel their hunger, the chill in their skin, their desperation.

And there, at the front of the group, was Noah.

He was one of the ones who looked ready to fight.

He was shivering. “Get out,” he snapped. He rolled a lighter across his palm and put a hand on one of the pipes. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”

His voice was sharp, but he didn’t sound certain.

He sounded terrified.

“Where’s Calla?” Hunter said.

One of the other kids stepped forward with an ax. “She’s waiting for us to do our part against the Guides.”

Then he raised it to swing.

Hunter rushed forward to stop him. The kid was small, but the ax was heavy. Hunter caught his arm, driving him back. The kid tried to swing again. Hunter shoved him, hard, and the ax went clattering to the ground.

“Stop,” said Hunter. “You need to get out of here. You don’t know what you’re up against.”

“We know what to do to prove we’re serious,” said Noah.

“There’s a Guide coming. You need to run.”

“Let him come,” said one of the girls. “We’ll bring the school down on top of him.”

“Not if I take care of the problem first,” said an accented voice from the darkness behind Hunter.

Followed by the click of a gun.

Hunter’s training kicked in without thought. He was spinning, registering where the sound had come from, swinging a fist to send the shooter off balance. He didn’t want to shoot, not here, not yet, when gas lines were so close.

But that didn’t stop Silver from firing. A bullet hit a pipe, and steam exploded into the small space.

Not a gas line. Not yet.

Girls were screaming.

“Run!” yelled Hunter. “Get out of here!”

The gun fired again. A flare of light, the clang of a bullet on steel. More steam, making the near darkness even more blinding. Sneakers scuffed on concrete, and they had to be running.

“They’re kids,” Hunter cried. “Let them go!”

“No.” Silver fired again, and Hunter darted left, hitting the pipes. He begged the steam to give him Silver’s location.

Silver must have been doing the same thing, only his abilities were stronger. The gun found the edge of Hunter’s jaw before Hunter even sensed motion.

Hunter froze.

“Drop your weapon.”

Hunter dropped it. The dark clouds of vapor swallowed it immediately.

Silver gave him a little shove with his gun, pushing Hunter’s head up. “You sent those children running. Do you honestly think they’ll stop causing damage just because you told them to?”

“They’re kids. They don’t know what they’re doing.”

“They do know what they’re doing. The deaths at the carnival proved that. I’m not worried about them right now. Your files will be quite helpful to track them down.”

His files. The ones he’d lost when Silver tracked him to the Merrick house.

Something told him Silver wouldn’t just threaten to harm those kids’ parents the way he had behind Noah Dean’s house.

Silver put more pressure on the weapon. “Tell me where the Merricks are hiding, and I’ll give you a quick death.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Hunter said.

“Good luck,” said Silver.

It wasn’t a matter of luck, it was a matter of time. Hunter just had to stay alive long enough for the kids to get out of the tunnels.

Then he could blow up the school himself if that’s what it took to kill this guy.

“You showed up pretty quick,” he said.

“Tell me where the Merricks are hiding,” Silver said again.

“Fuck you.”

Silver shot him.

In the leg.

The pain was quick and immediate, and Hunter was on the ground before he even registered what had happened.

What had Bill said about arteries? Hunter’s vision already felt spotty.

He rolled and looked up at Silver. “You’re really an ass**le.”

Silver shot him in the other leg.

Hunter cried out. He couldn’t help it. Pain ripped through him like a white-hot poker. It felt like the bullet had gone straight through bone.

Maybe that had really happened. He could swear he couldn’t feel his feet.

He needed to find his gun. He needed to shoot Silver. Or a gas line.

Or himself, just to stop this blinding pain.

“How many more of you are there?” said Silver.

Hunter almost couldn’t think to process the words. “More of me?”

“Fifths like you, living outside our notice?”

“Just me.”

“I don’t believe you. How did you coerce Kate to join you?”

The mention of Kate bought him a moment of clarity. “I didn’t coerce her into anything. Kate wasn’t a killer. She didn’t want to be like you.”

Hunter patted his hand along the concrete, searching for a weapon. Even the ax.

“My mistake,” said Silver, “was working with children.” He shot Hunter in the leg again, closer to the knee.

His vision went white for a moment, and Hunter felt like he lost a minute of time.

“Who else is like you?” Silver demanded again.

“Fuck you.”

“What are you, sixteen? No wonder you couldn’t save your father. No wonder you couldn’t—”

“Shut up! You don’t know anything! He was nothing like you.”