Come Fill Me (The Prophecy) (26 page)

At the door, Jacob stopped. “Where’s Liz?”

More gunfire echoed down the hall, these sounds closer.

“She’s safe,” Zeke said.

Chapter Twelve

What had she done? How could she have been so stupid?

Kele could barely see past her tears but couldn’t stop crying. She’d only wanted Jacob, not the entire world as Carreon did. Not peace the older ones had craved for too long. Not even the kind of happiness Zeke had clearly found with Liz. Just another moment with Jacob…a chance to make him love her.

She’d wanted to believe that bringing Liz back to Carreon would allow everything to return to the way it had been. She’d hoped—

A barrage of gunfire from Carreon’s men interrupted her thoughts.

The man behind Kele tightened his grip on her hair, using her as a human shield as he and his men stood single file behind her, inching their way deeper into the stronghold.

Kill me, please,
Kele’s mind cried to her people.
Don’t let Carreon’s men hurt anyone else.

The memory of Samuel clutching his bloodied knees, his face contorted in pain, forced an anguished cry from Kele. She’d waited for Carreon’s men to kill Samuel, knowing he couldn’t crawl away to safety, much less stand and run. They hadn’t bothered to put him out of his misery. It was as though they’d relished his pain. One of Carreon’s men had simply kicked Samuel’s weapon away so he couldn’t get to it, leaving him helpless and bleeding out. His agony would be unbearable until he lost consciousness and died.

“Where’s Liz?” the man behind her said. He yanked Kele’s hair, demanding her attention. “Which room?”

They’d reached the end of the first hall. On the way down it, Carreon’s men had shot open the locks of the doors on either side of them. After kicking them open, they sprayed the area with bullets. Not that it mattered. All the rooms were empty.

Zeke’s men must have taken the women, children and the elderly males to one of the safe areas, just as they’d drilled for in the past. Kele recalled how one of the younger women had bitched about the constant preparations.

“It’s not like anyone can ever get in here,” the girl had said. “Just us. So why do we have to keep doing this?”

To protect their clan from one of their own who’d betrayed them. Kele wondered if Zeke had known that. Had he seen what she’d done in his visions? If he had, why hadn’t he stopped her?

Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her throat tightened to the point that she couldn’t breathe, her chest hitching as she strained to pull in enough air.

“Which way?” the man behind her demanded.

To the left. Kele had taken that route to Jacob’s room countless times before. Always, she’d worried that he wouldn’t be alone. His door would be closed, and she’d hear him loving another woman inside. She’d heard him with Liz and needed it to stop. A small part of her wanted him to pay for not cherishing her. But not like this. Never like this.

“To the right,” she lied.

The man let go of her hair and gripped her neck. “You’re sure?” he asked, then squeezed her throat as Carreon had done.

Kele’s hands flew up, instinct driving her to fight him while shame and sorrow told her to stop. To remain still. To die.

Her lungs burned from lack of air. Her mind begged,
Kill me, please.

It was the only possible outcome now, because she’d never lead them to Jacob. Nor would she take them to Liz. If Kele survived this, she’d have them travelling in circles until Zeke’s men picked them off one by one like the insects they were.

His fingers dug into her windpipe. “Are. You. Still. Sure?”

The edges of her vision dimmed. Unable to speak, Kele continued to lie with a nod.

The man released her throat. Grabbing her hair once more, he shoved her to the left.

She cried out, the sound raspy. “No,” she said as loud as she could. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“We’ll see,” he said, pushing her forward, using her for protection as his men followed.

Liz pressed her ear to the door, listening for more gunfire, men’s shouts, someone—anyone—approaching.

Blood pounded in her ears, muting all other sounds.

She pushed away, running her hands down the wood, searching for a latch or some kind of release that would get the damn thing to open. No way was she going to stay in here while Jacob or Zeke got hurt.

If his brother died, Zeke would hunt Carreon like a crazed man, not caring how reckless his actions were, wanting nothing more than the revenge he’d denied himself for too long. He’d go to Carreon’s stronghold. There, he’d confront the man but wouldn’t get far. Carreon’s lieutenants would capture him. Roberto would gather his pliers, knives and other instruments of torture. Within minutes, Zeke would pray for death.

“Dammit, open.”

Liz pounded the heels of her hands against the door. She clawed its seams, breaking her nails down to the quick. The pain was instantaneous, searing and deep.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She hopped in place, trying to stop it, her attention shooting from the narrow bed in here to the lone chair, small table and desk lamp.

She picked the chair up. On a noisy grunt, she swung the damn thing against the wood as hard as possible. Two of the chair’s legs broke, but the freaking door remained intact. She hadn’t even put a gouge or a scratch in the stupid thing. What in the hell kind of wood was it?

She stood on tiptoes, running her fingers over the top of the jamb, searching for the release. On her knees, she did the same at the bottom seam.

Nothing.

Maybe it was on the sides. No, she’d already checked there. Maybe—

“Stop it,” she ordered herself, rocking in place as adrenaline continued to pump through her body, pushing her to fight, run, do something. “Think.”

There had to be a means of opening the door from the inside; otherwise, there was no way out until someone happened down the hall. She chewed her lower lip, wondering if Zeke’s people used this room to punish the clan’s children, keeping them prisoner until they behaved.

No. That was nuts. She’d seen his clan interacting with the kids. Even with the rowdiest ones, the adults’ chastisements were mild, meant to teach better manners not instill fear.

There was a way out. All she had to do was find it.

She regarded the bed and then the desk that also served as a nightstand. It was close enough so that anyone lying on the mattress could reach over and turn off the light, casting the room in utter darkness.

A thought rose in Liz’s mind, then skittered away, not allowing her to pursue it.

Frowning, she continued to stare at the lamp. There was something about it…something she needed to try. What?

She padded to it, removing the shade as she’d done to Jacob’s lamp. Just as she’d suspected, there was a hunk of stone where the bulb should be, the glowing rock illuminating the room. She didn’t dare touch it, afraid it would turn out and the walls in here wouldn’t light up, casting her into darkness.

She ran her hand down the lamp’s base, then up again, stopping at the switch.

On a whim, she turned it. The thing made a small clicking sound. Behind her, the door whooshed, its seal broken.

Liz didn’t pause to celebrate her success. Little by little, she edged past the door to peek into the hall.

Empty.

Bursts of gunfire sounded from the left. She flinched at the sounds even though distance muted them.

How had Carreon’s men found this place and gotten inside?

What in the hell did it matter now? She had to get to Carreon and murder him before Zeke tried. It was the only way to save him, his clan and her father.

She closed the paneling so Zeke wouldn’t realize she’d escaped, then stopped in the middle of the hall, determining her next move. If she was remembering correctly, the tunnel’s entrance was in the opposite direction of where she’d heard the gunfire. All she had to do was retrace the steps Zeke had taken when he brought her up here, then follow the same route they’d used upon arriving here in the van.

Down the stairs she ran, not wanting to consider what she’d do if she got to the entrance and the door was closed. Her palm print sure as hell wouldn’t open it. From what Zeke had claimed, not even explosives would do the job.

Be open, please.

The balls of her feet smacked into the stone floor as she bolted down one hall, then another, halting abruptly at one of Carreon’s men, his body crumpled against the wall, his throat and chest covered with blood, his eyes staring into eternity.

Shivering, Liz edged past him, fearful he was faking, waiting for her to get close enough so he could grab her leg.

He didn’t move. She tore past a series of doors, all riddled with bullets, the rooms empty. At the end of the hall, she stopped and pulled air in through her teeth. For the moment, the gunfire had stopped. Why?

From where she stood, the hall branched off to the left and right with Jacob’s room in the latter direction, several yards down. His door was open like the others, but no one was around.

Had Carreon’s men moved on when they hadn’t found Zeke or her inside? Surely, they were looking for them both. Liz lifted her face to the ceiling, wondering if they were now on one of the upper levels, searching it for—

Something heavy crashed above her. She stumbled back, then froze at the renewed sound of gunfire.

It seemed to come from everywhere. Liz turned so quickly she smacked her shoulder into the wall. Wincing at the pain, she ran again, heading for the entrance.

The closer she got, the more destruction she saw—bullet holes in the doors and walls, blood sprayed on the ceiling, pooled on the floor, two of Carreon’s men on their bellies, the tops of their heads torn away by gunfire.

A scream caught in her throat. She ran past them down a series of halls, turning the corners quickly, not even considering what might be ahead.

What she saw finally stopped her…one of Zeke’s men.

He’d propped himself against the wall a few feet from the entrance. Pain contorted his features. Sweat dripped from his face. He huffed rapidly as one does in an attempt to stop the hurt. Blood bathed both his knees. Puddles of it pooled to the left, no doubt the point where he’d been shot. From there, smears of his blood showed the direction he’d taken as he dragged himself to this spot.

To retrieve his weapon?

Despite his injuries, he lifted his assault rifle, pointing its muzzle at her heart. “Don’t move,” he growled.

His arm shook, causing the weapon to jerk from her chest to her arm to her leg. Fresh air whistled down the tunnel. The door was still open. The vehicles enticingly close.

Liz fell to her knees at his side.

“One more move,” he warned, “and I’ll blow your fucking head off.”

He could barely speak.

“Let me help you,” she whispered. “I can heal you.”

He cringed, trying to get away from her. Only his upper body moved. His legs were useless, but he didn’t back down. “You want to die?” he panted. “I’ll kill you, I swear, if you don’t get your ass back to wherever Zeke had put you.”

“I can’t,” Liz said. “I’m the only one who can get to Carreon and save Zeke and the rest of you.”

“Are you fucking nuts? I said—”

His words stopped on a gasp as Liz brushed her palms over his knees with the lightest touch possible, praying her gift wouldn’t be too much for him to take. She didn’t have the time to heal him as she had Zeke, Jacob and all the others.

He gritted his teeth. The muscles in his neck corded as her healing gift poured into him. “Noooo,” he cried. “What are you doing? I can’t take it.”

She’d barely touched him. Liz jerked back her hands, afraid to do any more. His face was a sickly gray color, his respiration too fast. However, beneath his torn jeans, she saw that the wounds on his knees had closed. His injuries were nearly healed, neither of them a threat to his life.

Worried he might still try to stop her, she scooted back and darted toward the entrance.

“Hey,” he shouted.

Liz continued into the tunnel, searching for the van she’d arrived in.

Not here.

No, no, no, no.
She couldn’t have gotten this far only to fail.

“Stop!” he yelled.

She ignored his order, hoping he wouldn’t shoot her after what she’d done for his damn knees. Darting from vehicle to vehicle, she found the bullet-riddled one the other men had used the night they’d gone to Carreon’s stronghold to rescue Zeke.

His man rushed into the tunnel, or rather he tried. Neither of his knees had fully recovered. That would take a bit more time or healing from her. He hobbled forward a few steps before losing his balance. A string of oaths poured from him as he stopped his fall with his elbow, ramming it into one of the Jeep’s side mirrors.

Liz scrambled inside her vehicle and turned the key. Instantly, the engine purred to life, and the GPS came on.

It was all she needed to get back to Carreon’s stronghold and finish him off for good, to save her father, Zeke and his clan.