down and I’ll—”
Somewhere above us, a door bangs open, and John yelps.
Professor Silva’s eyes go wide, and he bolts for the stairs, already summoning maz to his hands.
“John!”
Twenty-One
THE FOUR OF US DASH up the stairs after Professor Silva, Remi and Ania already calling firaz to their hands. Jaesin’s fists clench, prepping to strike. We burst into the upstairs laboratory and out into the hallway, and as we round the corner into the kitchen, the professor stops dead in his tracks.
Two people block the kitchen doorways, dressed in solid black unmarked uniforms and holding woven maz at the ready. A third holds John, with an arm wrapped around his throat.
Professor Silva’s hands drop to his sides, shaking. MMC left him alone for eight years. Eight years . . . until we brought them here. Because of course it has to be MMC. Yet another disaster caused by us, one way or another.
“You four,” the woman holding John says, looking past the professor to the rest of us. “Release your maz and kneel on the ground with your hands behind your head. I’m sure I don’t have to actually tell you what will happen if you don’t.”
She increases the pressure on John’s throat, and he makes a harsh strangled sound, his eyes bulging. But through it all, he manages to shake his head, ever so slightly.
“Okay,” I say. No choice. These men didn’t ask for us to drop in and wreck their lives. They’re happy. Healthy. Living out their days together. They don’t deserve this. “We’ll comply.”
I shuffle forward where they can see me fully and turn to look at the professor as I pass. His gaze is hard, his mouth tense, determined. Just like John, he shakes his head. I don’t get it. Why don’t they . . .
Then I realize. Yes, these men are happily spending their days researching and napping. They’re also the men who built an entire underground bunker beneath their house. Two of the most accomplished and brilliant scientists of their time. And their faces say they aren’t letting this go without a fight.
I shrug, playing up the defeated look, then turn back to the others. “Just do it, everyone, okay?”
I wink, turn back to the commandos, and slowly lower to my knees with my hands behind my head. I’m useless as a combatant in this kind of situation, but there’s one thing I can always do: piss people off.
“Okay, MMC Zombie McDoucheface, what’s the deal? You really gonna beat up on a couple of sweet old men just to get to us? Pretty damn low, my friend. Preeeeetty low.”
The woman holding John curls her lip in a sneer, and the two guarding the doors shift on their feet, irritated. Good. I push on.
“We must be pretty special if you followed us all the way out here. I’m feeling kinda valuable right now, aren’t you, Ania?” I say, glancing back at her. She nods, hands behind her back, the picture of an innocent princess. That draws the guards’ eyes to her, while Jaesin slowly slips a knife off the kitchen counter and tucks it up his sleeve.
“And so,” I continue in my most obnoxious voice, “if we’re so valuable, then there are a few things we can assume. One, you can’t kill us right now. You have to take us alive.”
“False,” growls the man guarding one of the doors. I quirk a little smile at him that I’ve been reliably informed is incredibly smug and irritating, and the man’s expression darkens. I summon every ounce of nerve I can muster, despite the fear liquifying my knees. False. They’re here to kill us.
“Ah well. Reason number two is still true, though. MMC apparently has something big to hide. Do you even know what that is, Gary?” I ask the next soldier, whose name is probably not Gary. “Did they tell you what you crossed a contaminated wasteland for? Do you even know what they’ve done? How they’ve poisoned the world? I bet you don’t. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. Unless you’re a total jerk. Are you a total jerk, Gary?”
Behind me, Jaesin snorts. I grin, relieved I can still make him laugh even at a time like this.
“Yeah, I thought so. Okay, how many things has that been so far? That was one, two . . . three!”
And thank the stars for this amazing crew, which has been together long enough to know the drill, because on the count of three I drop to the ground, and Jaesin