SPLICED

CHAPTER FIVE

For a moment, I can't breathe, I can't move. I peer over the railing into the stairwell, but it is too dark to see, even with my vision enhanced. A hand grasps mine and I look to see Gideon. There are tears behind his emerald eyes and I realize then that I am sobbing, screaming, that I've reached hysterics. I can't make myself move, no matter how hard I try, so Gideon swings me upwards, his arms cradling beneath my shoulders and my legs and he runs. I want to shout, beg him to put me down, to let me go, but I cannot force the words out. Ahead, there are more shots, which bounce off the metal rails, off the concrete steps, chunks of stone hewn out by the sniper shot. The stairwell is narrow, however, and his aim is fortunately thrown off by the angle. We'll be on him soon, and then there will be no hope for him. When Gideon sets me down, I grab the gun from my waistband. Anger courses through me, no longer a subtle, burning ire, but pure, unadulterated rage. We reach the top of the stairs and I see him, scrambling for his side arm. It is Cook, but the confidence he held last night when he broke Blake's arm is gone from his face. He seems afraid, and for a moment I hesitate.

A gun goes off behind me and Cook goes down, hard. I spin to see Harrison, his eyes narrowed, angrier than I've seen before. Irrationally, I'm furious with him, but there is no time to waste. Gideon takes my arm and we're moving again, but my legs feel like lead. Inside I'm torn, ripped down the middle. Without Alex, I don't want to keep going, even though I know he would be horrified if I didn't get out. It doesn't matter what Alex might feel. Because Alex is gone. Thinking about him makes my heart hurt, makes my brain feel heavy and dull.

In the distance there is another door and through the square windows I can see light... real, natural light. My heart throbs. We were so close. So close.

The others are running now, moving towards that door like magnets drawn to metal. But I cannot pick up my feet, I cannot push myself onward. It is only Gideon's hand on my arm that keeps me upright at all. I feel dizzy and sick, and numb. The doors burst open and Daniel and David reach them, first, and fresh air rushes in, driving with it a thousand different scents. My stomach turns and I drop to my knees, heave whatever little content my stomach holds. Gideon's hand shifts to my back as he crouches beside me, and I can hear a quiver in his voice when he speaks.

"We have to keep moving, Charlie. Please..."

"I can't... Gid, I can't. He..." I look up and I see his tears, and feel my own and I

know he understand my pain. He and Alex were not just friends, they were brothers.

"He can't be gone, Gideon. I need him not to be gone..."

"He's not, Charlotte. Listen to me... okay? He's not gone. Just like Blake and Andrew and all the others. We will not let them be forgotten. But none of that matters unless we move, now."

He's right. I know he is. I try to stand, but my legs feel like iron, so Gideon wraps his arms around me again and lifts me and I don't complain. It feels like a dream gone wrong, as we step through the doors and out into the morning light. There is so much to take in, so many sensations, but I feel shallow. Hollow. No one pursues us, and I am right in my thinking that no one will. The guards we encountered are not paid to die for Eden Labs, and I do not doubt the others... the doctors and technicians and that awful black hair woman are hiding, holed away in their offices, too afraid we might come after them, that we might retaliate. A part of me wants to, knows that I could. For Alex and Blake and Andrew... for all of the seventeen victims they claims. For our families, who have mourned for three years. For myself... for what they've done to me. The irreparable damage they've caused to my system, my mind, my heart.