The images that are flashing through my mind have someCall of Dutyscenario going on, people jumping out of planes and landing with parachutes. I hope he knows thatsomeof us in the room don’t have that kind of experience. Whilst I’d go to the ends of the earth for my man, I’ll be useless if I break an ankle.
Malcolm continues when he glances at me. “I called in a favour from an old friend.”
“Who?” Rex asks, moving to sit on the arm of the sofa next to Jenna.
The corner of Malcolm’s lips tilts upwards; it’s fleeting, but it reminds me so much of Saint. My heart aches at the recognition. He clearly takes so much after his dad, that’s for sure. I never noticed it before, but I’ve also never spent this much time in his presence.
“He’s known as Nocturne, and he’s well equipped at moving around unnoticed. He had a contact who could help us borrow one.”
That seems to pacify Dawson and Rex, and they nod as if they know who he is. Meanwhile, I can feel Regina’s stare burning the side of my cheek. When I turn to look at her, her face says exactly what my brain is thinking. “He sounds…shady.”
Dawson rumbles a laugh next to her. “That’s one way to describe the mad bastard.”
“How do you know this guy? Can you trust him?” I ask, feeling like I’m missing the connection.
Dawson turns to look at me, a mischievous smile on his face. “Malcolm, Saint and I worked with him before.”
Malcolm claps his hands together, signalling the end of that conversation. “The facility is three hours from here up in the peaks. They’ll see us coming a mile off if we head in by the road. We’ll need to leave before the storm hits, travelling the rest of the way by foot. So dress warm.”
He swings his gaze to me. “I’ve scouted an area where we’ll be dropped off and head through the woods.”
My shoulders ease a little. My mind is too corroded to think how the hell I was sliding down a rope into the woods. These guys might have travelled all over the world and been in high-intensity situations; I literally sneak into these corrupt assholes’ homes and put a bullet in them, a knife if I have time.
“Get ready. We’re bringing my fucking son home.” And with that, Malcolm leaves the room, followed by the remainder of the Ultio members who joined in.
“I know I said before I was going to join you guys at some point, but this seems a little in the deep end for me. I’m gonna stay back with your mom.” Jenna nudges me. “Besides, someone needs to keep her distracted whilst you go fuck shit up.”
I feel my face light up for the first time in days, glad the two of them seem to be finding comfort in one another. Out of the three of us, my mom was the one Jenna, Regina and I spent time with the most. “You know I’d never ask or expect it of you, Jenna. And thank you…for Mom.”
She squeezes my hand. “She’s doing more for me than I am for her, to be honest. Once this is over, she’s going to help me reach out to my parents.”
Regina leans forward. “Oh, Jenna. That’s amazing.”
Jenna’s eyes glass over, but she blinks them away quicker than it arrived. “Just another step closer to our new normality, right?”
My hand squeezes hers back. “The old one was boring anyway.”
She throws her head back and laughs, and God does it feel good to hear it. “Yeah, I tried telling Grace that. She hasn’t quite warmed up to our dark humour just yet.”
Afewhourslater,we manage to survive the seedy helicopter ride and land at a viewpoint about five miles off from where we need to be. I can safely say that I will make my way back to the Pit on foot if I need to, because that descent? My ass is still clutched to the seat of the chopper.
My gaze focuses ahead.White’s Psychiatry Research Centreis written in big bold blue letters across beige panels of wood, perched atop of the building’s roof. A large structure wraps around in an octagon, almost giving the impression it’s built into the side of the mountain, some levels dipping lower as it edges near the cliff side.
The complex is modern, but the months it’s been left abandoned since Clarke’s death show, the exterior grounds unkept, damp eating away at the once pristine paint with the storms we’ve had.
I didn’t even know this place was here. When Regina and I checked his file all those months ago, the facility was kept ‘hidden from the public eye for patient confidentiality’.
That should have been the first red flag he was hiding something even more sinister.
My fingers regrip the handle of my gun, and sweat slicks over every inch of my skin, despite how cold it is at this altitude.
We’re hidden in the treeline, and the storm is beginning to pick up since we landed; rain clashes down all around us, battering the trees and sending them sideways as they shudder above us. There’s an unsettling aura moving around like a wraith in these woods.
Jenna’s been told about this place, and the way she described it, I’m assuming it’s because this is where people were brought to break their minds. The chill in the air is likely their trapped sanity, brushing past my neck as they reach out to remind you they once belonged to someone.
The inside is littered with guards; some are on the roof, and two stand huddled near the entrance as the rain pelts down on them. A few are doing rounds as they walk past the bay windows, dipping out of sight once they reach the corner.
The floodlights are on, lighting up the entire front of the small car park, where three SUVs sit in a row. My hand grips my guntighter, and I pray that everything the guys at the Pit have taught me over my time with them has stuck. I turn to look at Regina. I’ve been glued to her side the entire walk through the woods.
