Redemption (Enigma Black Trilogy Book #3) (39 page)

Marshall turned his head toward Jeremiah, whose face remained glued to the screen. “Though this day may mark the end of our lives, I have a feeling it will mark the beginning of so many others,” he said, a smile creeping across his face.

“As I was saying,” President Brooks began again, “these people—these, these liars—they will stop at nothing, nor will they squander any chance to completely drag innocent people through the mud, including myself.” Off stage, little by little, the soldiers shook their heads, looking blankly around at their surroundings. Some lowered their guns. Others whispered to each other, confused. “So without any further interruptions—”

Much to his frustration, the screen once again flicked away from the live broadcast, but instead of returning to the street scene, the screen now displayed Brooks pacing around his bunker. In the background a voice could be heard, suggesting he was on a conference call that wasn’t going very well as, then, his voice was broadcast over the speakers:

“If what you’re proposing does not work and the people are not swayed, you’d better be prepared to face the consequences. Yes, I do owe you a great deal for what you’ve helped me achieve, but don’t forget that a great deal of my success has also come from my actions and only my actions, and I’m sincerely beginning to question whether or not there is a need for either you or The Man in Black anymore.”

The next shot showed him ending the call as he paced around his office frustrated.

“
I created The Man in Black, and I control his actions as I damn well please, Victor
,” he muttered.

With that, the screen once again returned to Brooks standing on the stage. In the stands, the audience roared with anger. Several of them stood up and pushed their way through the soldiers.

“What are you idiots waiting for?” Brooks said, turning to the soldiers on the execution squad. “Execute the prisoners and then shoot anyone else who dares threaten me, your commander-in-chief.” The soldiers stood facing the screen, their guns lowered. “Shoot them!” he yelled. “Shoot the treasonous wretches now.”

The execution squad nodded collectively, held up their guns, and then turned and aimed them straight at President Carver Brooks as the other soldiers and audience members flooded the stage.

The wind swept the smoke around me. It covered my shivering body like a blanket, its material too thin to provide any real warmth to a body steadily losing blood. Underneath me, I could feel the building tremble slightly as though it, too, was barely hanging on to life. Its structural integrity had been badly compromised, and it would soon crumble, taking me down with it. That fact alone should have motivated me to move. To fight for my life. But I remained there, unmoving, simply because there was nothing left to fear. There was nothing left for me anymore.

Yet, I wasn’t afraid. Strangely, I felt at peace. With Victor’s death, my mind could finally put the memory of my family’s murder to rest. I was free. Free to live. Free to die.

I lay on the rooftop, my hand fixed on the stab wound to my abdomen. Beneath me, blood pooled in my palm. Warm and wet, it felt like I’d submerged it in a tub of warm water. It seeped through the cracks between my fingers and fell in drops upon the concrete where it began to pool underneath my body. I’d have minutes, maybe a little longer, before I bled to death and joined my parents, Jake, Blake, Lucy, and Ian.

Ian. My eyes watered as memories rolled through my head like a movie, beginning the moment I saw him behind the bar and ending with our last night together lying intertwined on the air mattress he’d found. Why I was still here and he wasn’t was unfathomable to me. How he could no longer be on this earth was impossible for me to conceive. With tears cascading down my face and my body weakened by the blood loss, I closed my eyes and waited for death to come and take me away.

Get up
. I heard Ian’s voice in my head, coaxing my eyes open. Even though I knew it wasn’t possible, it sounded so real. Like he was standing next to me on the rooftop. “I can’t,” I argued with the air. “I can’t.”

You can. You will. You must. Do it for them. It’s what they would have wanted. Do it for me. It’s what I want for you
. I choked back tears, knowing that the blood loss was playing tricks on my mind, but also knowing that Ian’s disembodied words, whether the product of my disillusioned mind or some ethereal encouragement, rang true. For me to die without putting up a fight for my life would be like spitting in the face of my parents and everyone whose lives had been lost fighting to reclaim our own existence.

Reluctantly, I stood up on wobbly legs, overcome by dizziness. The blood loss was steadily affecting my equilibrium and energy levels. Just the act of walking alone was enough to cause my head to spin.

I pulled my hand away from my wound. Wet and slippery, blood coated the palm and fingers, and I wiped them down the side of my suit to rid them of as much of the blood as possible. When I came to the edge of the roof, I looked down at the street and the people below. Emergency lights lit up the streets. Ambulances, fire trucks and police assisted the wounded as crowds of people from other parts of the city filtered in from a few blocks away.

I inspected the side of the building, noting there was no fire escape; no easy way down other than by doing what I doubted I had the strength left to do. I would have to propel myself off the roof using my grappling hook and hopefully reach the ground before I fell unconscious or my body lost what little energy remained. On top of a nearby building, I saw an antenna tower and, with a flick of my wrist, released the grappling hook, watching as it flew through the air and wrapped firmly around the base of the antenna.

Cautiously, I tugged on the wire to find enough resistance to make me comfortable with the hook’s hold around the structure. Then, with a deep breath, I closed my eyes, shrugged off the dizziness, and leapt from the roof of The Woodland Lodge. I fell through the smoke, the heat from the flames threatening to scorch my suit as I passed the open windowsills. Closer, closer to the ground I came until the wire tensed and my body glided over the street toward the crowd. But the closer I came to them, the more I could feel my body giving in to the darkness.

I flicked my wrist and released the wire, causing me to fall the last ten feet to the ground. My body tumbled over the asphalt, but I was already too numb to feel any of the pain. As I came to rest in the roadway, my vision began to blur, fading in and out. To my left, I could hear the sound of footsteps running hurriedly in my direction, and I turned my head to see a group of bystanders rushing toward me.

An older man reached me first. Our eyes met briefly as he knelt down beside me before I closed them in exhaustion. “Are you all right?” he asked me, concerned. I shook my head and removed my hand from my wound. Blood dripped from my palm and landed on the ground next to him. “Shot?” he asked. I shook my head, unable to speak. “Stabbed?” His voice seemed more distant than before. I nodded.

“My buddy’s a doctor,” a familiar voice said. I opened my eyes to see Trey kneeling down by my feet.

“Tell him to drop what he’s doing and get over here then,” the older man said. “She’s lost a lot of blood, but she may still have a chance if we hurry.” Trey nodded, jumped to his feet, and ran toward the crowd of people off to the side.

Chase
.
He’s going to get Chase.
If anything, I may get the chance to tell Chase why I really had to leave. I may get a chance to redeem myself to him, to show him that my decision to leave hadn’t been callous. That I had no intent to ever hurt him or his family. A crowd gathered around me as more and more people flocked to see the fallen superhero they’d heard so much about on television. Most kept their distance, unsure of what to think, whether I was human or something else entirely. Others knelt down next to me, their presence somewhat comforting. And then, from the depths of the crowd like a beacon in the night, Chase appeared.

The older man next to me stood up to make room for him to kneel down beside me. “She’s been stabbed,” he told Chase. “It looks like she’s lost quite a bit of blood. I’m surprised she’s still conscious.”

Chase nodded, turning his attention toward me. “We really need to stop meeting under these circumstances,” he said, doing his best to give me a comforting smile. But I could tell that what he saw concerned him, that it was serious. “We’ve got to get you to the hospital,” he said. “You’re going to need blood, and—” Before he could finish his sentence, I lifted my hand and caressed his cheek with my fingers. Somewhat flustered, he stopped speaking, his attention drawn to me as I struggled to take my mask off. “Here.” He moved to help me, but stopped short when his fingers became caught in something around my neck. Not having to think twice, I knew what that something was. The necklace with the heart locket he’d given to me a lifetime ago.

Chase gasped, fear, shock and surprise all mixed in one sudden inhale. I looked up to see tears in his eyes as he turned the locket around with his shaking hand. “Of course,” he whispered, the truth hitting him all at once. In that instant, I knew that everything I wanted to tell him was unnecessary, that he knew exactly what I wanted to say.

His hands moved away from the locket to help me unclasp my helmet and slip it off. It was then that our eyes were finally able to meet for the first time in a year. Tears fell down his face as he moved his hands underneath my head to lift me up into his arms. “I’m sorry,” I said just audible enough for him to hear me.

“No,” he said. “There’s no reason for you to ever be sorry.” A tear landed on my cheek as he rested his head against mine and sobbed.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to fade away, content with the knowledge that I’d been able to accomplish everything I had ever set out to do.

He finally had her back in his arms. After everything he’d gone through, he had an idea of what the answers to his questions were. The reason she’d left him had more depth to it than he could have ever known. Yet, he knew that a part of him had always known that all along. A part of him knew that she hadn’t just left so suddenly for the vague reasons she’d tried to get him to believe. Her departure had so much more meaning than that.

“Celaine.” Her body had become limp in his arms. He lifted his head up, frightened to see her eyes were closed. “Celaine,” he said with more urgency. Scared, he shook her slightly, receiving no response in return. “Stay with me, baby,” he pleaded. “I can’t lose you again.”

Frantically, he unbuttoned his dress shirt, slipped it off and tied it over her wound, taking her into his arms once it was secure. The crowd parted for him while he ran with her in his arms toward the ambulance. Even though he was in a sea of people, all he saw were the emergency lights directly ahead of him. Near the ambulance, his family had gathered together, waiting for him. His mother saw him first, her eyes darting from him to the body in his arms. She covered her mouth in astonishment and slumped down to the sidewalk, which caught the attention of Jim and MaKayla, who could only stare in shock as he ran past them to the ambulance.

“We need to get her secured to a gurney and out of here,” he ordered the bewildered EMT. “She’s been stabbed and needs blood. Radio Hope Memorial and tell them to have an O.R. ready now.”

“We’ve got this, doctor,” a woman’s voice came from behind him. Chase turned to see Emily, another EMT, entering the ambulance. “We’ll take good care of her here and back at the hospital, so you can stay with your fiancé.”

“I am,” he said without hesitation.

“Chase?” Paige appeared a few feet away from the door of the ambulance, still in her wedding dress, which was covered in soot. Clearly upset, all she could do was stare at him, her mouth agape.

“I’m sorry,” he said to her, motioning the driver to go as the doors to the ambulance closed.

For a brief moment, he looked through the window as the ambulance drove away, watching as she stood in the street, her dress blowing in the breeze.

A gentle rain fell over the two oak caskets, which sat side-by-side in the same cemetery where Blake and all the others before him had been laid to rest. Around them stood a sea of umbrellas, held by those who’d come to pay their respects. Between the caskets, a pastor read a brief eulogy to the crowd, many of whom were too shaken from the events of the past few days to listen. Outside the cemetery, a group of reporters had amassed, ready to bombard anyone who left its gates with enough questions to make their heads spin. Because of this, the cemetery gates had been locked to permit a moment of peace to everyone inside.

Chase stood in front of the crowd alongside Kara, who was doing all she could to remain standing. Her grief had been evident the moment he first met her and had yet to relent. On more than one occasion, he found himself having to grab onto her arm to keep her steady and prevent her from falling to the wet ground. “Are you okay?” he asked, propping her up.

“I may be someday,” she answered him.

“She needs you, you know. She’s been a wreck since she woke up.” As he spoke, he glanced up at the picture of Ian displayed behind his casket. “He meant a lot to her,” he said, his voice trailing off.

Kara looked up at him, frowning at the sadness in his eyes. “He loved her,” she said. “I know that’s the last thing you want to hear right now, Chase. But if there’s anything that may provide you with some measure of comfort, it’s the knowledge that she was around people who cared for her. And I know she’s grateful that you’re here, especially since she couldn’t be.”

He nodded solemnly. “Who’s the other guy?” he asked, glancing at the redhead in the picture behind the second casket.

“His name was Cameron,” she said. “He was a victim of Victor’s, too. Just in an entirely different way.”

“It sounds like you all were victims in your own way. Even those who weren’t a part of The Epicenter fell victim to it.”