WITH EVERY STRIKE FROM SEAMUS, Scarlett grew stronger.
After the third blast, she snapped the restraints and shoved aside the metal ribs of the machine’s cage. Stepping free, she spread her arms and thrust her chest forward. “Again—as hard as you can!”
Seamus blasted her once, twice, three times, each strike harder than the last.
She shouted for him to step away from the door. Her first kick bent the door and snapped a hinge. The second strike ripped the door free and tossed it across the corridor, where it clanged loudly off the block wall and fell to the ground. She stepped free of the Chamber, bones still thrumming with pent-up force.
They embraced.
On the floor, Dalia murmured softly, still unconscious but starting to come around.
“She’s Jagger’s puppet now,” Scarlett said. “So are Rhoads and Ditko.” She quickly explained Jagger and his power.
Seamus frowned. “Rhoads gave an all-call to the auditorium.”
“And Jagger’s the guest speaker,” she said. “They’re his by now, all of them.”
“We have to get out of here before they come for us.”
Dalia stirred, mumbling.
“What about Dalia?” she said. “We can’t protect ourselves from her.”
Seamus smiled grimly. “I know how to make her leave us alone.”
A short time later, as they hurried away down the hall, Scarlett wished that she hadn’t kicked the Chamber door completely off its hinges. It would have been good to block Dalia’s screams as the machine shone its merciless spotlight on whatever nightmares she had stored in that dark mind of hers. By the bloodcurdling sound of her screams, she must have been harboring some terrible dreams indeed.
They reached the intersection. To the left was the auditorium and Jagger. To the right was a clear path to the subway stairwell, safety, and freedom.
Scarlett turned left.
Seamus grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”
“We have to stop Jagger, Seamus.”
He tugged in the opposite direction. “He’s too powerful.”
“If I don’t try to stop him, I’ll spend the rest of my life hating myself,” Scarlett said. She remembered the pain Dalia had put her through and shivered, knowing that most of it was true. She’d hurt a lot of people. Whenever the going had gotten tough, she’d quit or begged off or stuck her head in a sand made of weed and booze and boy toys: anything to ignore the problem. The sum total of her life had led her to this crossroads. If she turned right, she would set all the things Dalia had shown her in stone, but if she turned left…“I have to try.”
“Even if you could stop Jagger, it wouldn’t bring Dan back.”
“It’s not just about Dan,” she said. “It’s about everyone. And this place, and West Point, and duty. I know that sounds stupid, but we’re part of something here, and we swore an oath. That’s bigger than me or you or Dan or what we think of Rhoads.”
He looked at her with thoughtful eyes, the corners of his mouth drawing downward.
“Think about Lucy DeCraig,” she said. “How are you going to feel if—”
“Shut up,” he said, and closed his eyes. “Just shut up, all right?” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of gum, and handed her two pieces.
She raised one eyebrow. “Gum?”
Unwrapping a piece, Seamus said, “Hubris kills.”
“Huh?”
He plucked the chewed gum from his mouth and stuffed it into his ear. “Let’s not fool around like Odysseus.”