Chaos (Lanie Bross) - Lanie Bross Page 0,71

a little paunchy. He kind of reminded her of her dad, except for the jogging-gear part. “Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?” He came to her side, knelt next to her.

“I’m fine,” Jasmine said, and stood up as if to prove it. “I promise. It’s … it’s Saturday, right?”

The jogger nodded, squinting. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jasmine waved him off. “I promise. I guess I just got shaken up.” She let out a laugh and walked quickly away from him, weaving through debris, before he could ask her any more questions.

So. Her intuition was correct. It was Saturday now, the day of the earthquake. That meant she had two days before she would meet Ford at the rotunda. Would he be there again? Would he recognize her this time? Would she make it two full days without time hopscotching around? Somehow, she doubted it.

Ingrid had confirmed what Jasmine had begun to suspect in Pyralis, that she was part Executor. Which meant Luc was, too. And now that she knew the truth, did that make her and Ford enemies? Wasn’t that what he’d said the first time she confronted him? We both know we’re on different sides. He had killed one Executor already, and had probably killed others before.

But she couldn’t lose Ford. He was her only ally. No one else understood. She had to make sure that in two days she would meet Ford and know that he could help her.

She needed to leave herself a clue. But where? Fort Point? Should she leave herself a clue where they had spent the night together? But that wouldn’t work, because how would she know to go there?

Another rumble shook the ground. Shit. She stood with her feet planted firmly apart and waited for it to pass. Think, Jasmine. Where would you look?

Then, in a flash, she understood. Here, at the rotunda. The note in the secret room.

Jas stumbled through the mess of concrete and branches. The air was filled with choking white dust and screaming sirens and panicked voices. She carefully picked her way to the hollow column that hid the secret stairway.

Dim light streamed down the steps. The shadows lengthened as she got near the bottom; it was so full of dust here, it was almost impossible to breathe. She slid her hand along the cool brick until a break in the wall indicated that the main room was right there. As she stepped into the room, she saw that part of the ceiling had collapsed. A bit of sunlight filtered through, casting a crazy array of shifting shadows.

Chills washed over her skin, and she rubbed her arms. The Executors had found her here twice. It wasn’t a good idea to hang around. The girl had said more would come in her place until the task had been completed. Until Jasmine was dead.

A low rumble started under her feet and grew in intensity until the dishes in the cabinet on the wall fell and smashed into pieces. Jas darted to the doorway and braced her hands against the sides. Another large chunk of the ceiling fell and sent a blast of dust straight at her. She turned her face, felt the pressure of dust and plaster on her back.

She needed to do what she had to do and get out, before the whole frigging place caved in and she was buried alive. When the shaking subsided, she moved as quickly as she could into the small side room. In the nightstand, she found an envelope and a pen.

Find Ford. Ask him about Miranda.

It wasn’t much. But it was enough.

She reached the top of the stairs just as a terrible noise began deep under the earth and seemed to claw its way to the surface. Everything shook, a harder aftershock than any of the previous ones. Jasmine hurtled through the doorway just as what remained of it collapsed behind her. Before she could react, a flash of light filled her vision and now-familiar agony ripped through her head. She stumbled and fell to her knees.

Why does this keep happening to me?

When her vision finally cleared, she saw that the sun was just now breaking over the horizon again. It was dawn once again, as if she were in a badly edited film. But the ground was still, and police tape crisscrossed the whole area like a giant yellow spiderweb. Teams of volunteers moved silently around the area, bagging and shifting debris.

“Jas!”

Jasmine turned, and her heart squeezed and then opened.