Page 119 of Trapped Truth

“D-Didn’t see th-that coming, did y-ya?”

“Why did you do this to us? We’re on the same side!”

With the light in his eyes fading in real time, Kyle lifts his chin enough to stare up at the destruction unfurling in a maelstrom. Our group is caught in the eye of the storm. Fire dapples over his features, lit by our entire lives going up in flames.

“I w-wanted to see y-you burn.”

With that, every muscle turns to slack jelly. The Falcon Team’s prized sniper collapses in an expanding pool of his own lifeblood, taking any remaining loyalty to Sabre or our cause with him.

We’re left to watch the smoke.

Each greedy flame tearing a fresh chunk from our souls until nothing but ash remains.

CHAPTER 20

EMBER

WAKE UP - ARCADIA FIRE

“In this morning’s breaking news… The capital’s terror threat remains at its highest level as authorities assess the explosion in London’s Canary Wharf. Details are limited at this time…”

A crash echoes when I lob the old-fashioned radio directly into the brick wall. The mechanism shatters, sending plastic flying everywhere. My filthy surroundings aren’t worsened by the extra dousing of broken crap to complete the abandoned, haunted house aesthetic.

I’ve slept in my fair share of shit holes. Doesn’t bother me. But the remains of a disused liquor distillery on the outskirts of Wandsworth is a new experience, not to mention the family of rats living in discarded barrels and rusted machinery that act as our new roommates.

“Ember! Em!”

“Yeah, in here.”

My backside smarts where I slump on the bottom step of the metal staircase leading to the next level. That’s where Warner finds me, screeching to a stop through a sagging door that hangs off its hinges.

“What was that noise?”

“Me losing patience.” I don’t bother trying to hide the misery from my voice.

“Almost gave me a heart attack. Are you okay?”

“How could any of us be okay right now?”

Exhaling, he finds a path over to me through scattered wooden crates and dust-covered bottles, doomed to never reach the supermarket shelves. Honestly, this entire bolthole feels like a graveyard. Kinda fitting really.

“We’re alive.” He sinks onto the step beside me, his arms hanging like dead weight at his sides. “The same can’t be said for a lot of people caught up in the explosion.”

“Exactly! People are dead!”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“Then why are we hiding here like fucking cowards, running from the fight?”

“What fight?” His chest expands in a slow, strained lift. “Our home is gone. Sabre is compromised. Our own fellow agent has betrayed us all. Sitting here is the only goddamn thing we can do right now.”

“I refuse to believe that’s true.”

“What else would you have me do, Em?”

“Fucking anything!”

I want to scream and rave like a madwoman as he slides an arm around me. We’re both shaking. I don’t think I’ve stopped since our penthouse blew up in a spectacular display of failure. Nor when we were evacuated to Blaine’s last hiding place and ordered to lay low overnight.