➵ Chapter 54-6

Staying on the ground, palms pressed against the filthy floor, I crawled toward the gun, pointed it away from us and the doorway, in the direction of the closet instead. It peppered the wall with bullets as I stood to untie her. "Lia, what the hell's going on?" "It's a game." "What?" "A game. To kill him, we have to find him. And he has the others. Do you know where he took them?" "No. I-I just woke up in here with this, like, huge gun and a shady looking shovel!" "Shovel? Shovel, where?" She pointed behind the door, where a rusty shovel stood. An old photograph of my parents was taped to it. My hand flew to my earpiece. "The cemetery? Is somebody at the cemetery?" No answer. "We need to go," I said, and Trya wordlessly picked up the shovel, running after me. Out the orphanage, through the street after street, passing church after church until we were at the right one. I hopped over the fence around the cemetery, going straight to my parent. Beside them was a fresh, unmarked grave. The earpiece switched back on. "He had thirty minutes of air. That was... twenty minutes ago, I believe." When I reached for the shovel, Tyra nearly whacked me with it. "You're so not strong enough. Not with all those broken ribs and bruises. I'll be faster." Without another word, she began to dig the grave. Panicked and feeling useless, I dug with my hands, throwing back as much as dirt as quickly as I could, chest starting to ache. I didn't know how long it took - we lost track of time. We had no watch or phone, and neither of us was paying attention to anything but the grave. The box we uncovered was large and wooden, nailed together sloppily and hastily. Tyra and I pried it off the top penal, and she fell back, exhausted, as I scrambled to look. "Jacian!" I gasped, reaching in and grabbing him around the underarms, hauling him out. When my finger touched his neck, there wasn't a pulse. When my head dropped to his chest, his heart didn't beat. "No. No!" The laughing in my ear drove me to tears, but his skin was still warm to my touch. Desperate, I pumped my hands over his heart and counting in my head, breathing air to his lungs whenever the time came. His eyes flew open, his body wracking with a fit of coughs. Startled, I fell back, staring at him. "Hi, love," he whispered once he caught his breath. "I was hoping you'd show up. You took a lifetime." "You're not funny!" Jace pulled me forward and kissed me, wiping my eyes when he pulled away. He looked at a stunned Tyra and back at me. "Where are we?" "New York. Polk's toying with me. I have to find him to kill him. But first-" "First you've got to find the lot of us. What rubbish." He looked back at the headstones next to him. "Are those your parents, Lia?" I nodded. "Where did you find Tyra?" "The orphanage I used to live in." "He's torturing you. Making you be the last places you want to be. Where would he take the Logan or the twins?" I shook my head. "Think." "Police station is too public." My gaze flickered to the church. "There. They're in there. You're brilliant." I kissed him quick. "You taste like dirt." "Sorry, I was buried alive." I stood, pulling my earpiece and throwing it to the ground, crushing it under my boot before running toward the church, remembering that terrible feeling I'd gotten in my stomach when Darren Polk looked at me in there all those years ago. The doors to the church were open as they always were, alight with the glow of candles. The main altar was empty, a steady trickle coming from the holy water font. All around were the beautiful stained glass windows I used to adore as a child, always listening intently as the heroic stories were told, stories that I'd since lost my faith in. Eric was seated in one of the confessionals, Lee kneeling in front of him. "Eric," I breathed, greeted with his frightened face and a box strapped to his chest. There was a time display in the little window, counting down. "Oh." Beads of sweat dripped down from his foreheads, his hand coiled tight at his sides, shaking apprehensively. He seemed ready to burst from the rampant energy his fear brought. "I can't move or I risk setting it off, or I would've-" "Just tell me what to do." "Fat chance," Lee said. "He refuses to let me help." "Move over," I said, and he stood, stepping back so I could kneel where he had been a moment ago. "You trust me, don't you Eric?" "It's not about trust. It's about not wanting to get anyone killed." "You're here because of me. If you think I'm leaving, you're wrong. I'll be right here when that thing goes off, so if you want me to get out of here alive, you'll tell me." Eric's eyes were getting red, his voice trembling and breathless when he finally caved, telling me what need to be done. "Get this top plate off. Slowly." "Easy enough, Boy Wonder." I put my hands on either side of the thin metal box, pulling it off with the adagio of a ballerina. "Tyra, get out of here. Find a way to contact the Sect. Logan's too important to lose track of." "Meaning?" she asked. "He might have a tracker on him. They used our C-4. That's tacky." Eric squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "Hannah's pregnant!" "That's wonderful, truly, Eric, but I need you to either shut up or help." "I'm scared, Lia." I set my hand on his, remaining unruffled, hoping that maybe if he saw that I was untroubled, he would calm down. "I'm going to stay right here with you. Don't worry. I'll get you back to Hannah, but I need your help to do that." He swallowed down his fear, looking down at the wires. "You see the red on in the middle?" I touched the one he seemed to be looking at, hands slick with sweat. "This one?" "No!"