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THE CITADEL SHOOK AGAIN, the concussive explosion sending shock waves up and down the stairwell. Aubrey covered her head with her arms as she scrambled after Logan.
A war zone awaited them on the ground floor. The exterior walls hung in tattered shards from the exposed pillars, giving the wind-driven rain easy access. The lobby had been obliterated, leaving behind nothing but a ragged, gaping hole where the front doors had been.
The darkness mercifully obscured the full extent of the devastation, but flashes of lightning exposed the charred evidence of multiple explosions. The Tracker sentries—or what little was left of them—were no longer a threat to anyone.
The hideous shrieking from the Givers’ inner sanctum snaked down the stairwell, louder than before. Aubrey glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to spot one of the aliens slithering after them.
Logan dodged through a jagged opening—once the lobby—running through the torrential rain across the manicured lawn until he was well into the parking lot. The Runners followed, picking their way with feverish haste through the grisly debris. Aubrey wished she could filter out a charred smell she didn’t want to think about.
She caught her breath as she tripped on something which rolled under her foot. A searing burst of lightning confirmed her worse imaginings—a human leg, complete with booted foot. There was no sign of the rest of the body.
Megan caught her out-flung arm, pulling her along.
Don’t look down, Aubs. She fought her heaving insides. Don’t look down.
They gathered in a compact huddle near the middle of the parking lot, gasping for breath. Aubrey sank to her knees on the wet pavement, hardly daring to believe they’d escaped.
The storm lashed them, cold and remorseless.
The keening wail amplified to an ear-shattering howl. Aubrey wheeled around to see a greenish haze wrap itself around the Citadel’s uppermost floor—an angry shroud of crackling, vindictive energy.
As she watched, the Citadel began to collapse in upon itself, imploding degree by tortuous degree. The metal pillars and girders groaned in protest, accompanied by a cascading series of internal explosions.
The unearthly howl intensified, and the haze swirled like a malevolent entity. The disintegration of the Citadel accelerated until all that remained was a twisted mound of scorched and smoking debris.
The screeching howl faded into merciful silence.
The green mist seeped and swirled around the rubble, like a dispossessed spirit seeking a new host to inhabit. Failing that, it dissipated, the last tendrils scattered by the storm-driven wind.
The rain continued to pour, relentless and uncaring.