Chapter Nineteen

 

Zeke

 

Voices carried from beyond the walls of the warehouse, and I strained to hear if Chloe was among them. On the other side of the room, Richard stood motionless by the door while Harman fidgeted next to the long, steel table. Behind me, Brock twitched as he fought to stay still, his eyes already glowing and fissures permeating his skin.

Someone outside shouted.

Richard swore. “Stay here!” he snapped at Brock as he ripped open the door.

He raced from the room.

I looked from Brock to Harman, and then yanked at the restraints.

The one on my left wrist gave enough to let my hand slip by, while the bar on my feet popped free of the table entirely. Rolling to the side, I shoved hard at the metal holding my other wrist.

Brock made a furious noise. His footsteps thudded toward me.

Something beneath the table snapped. The restraint gave away.

I scrambled aside just as his fist slammed down where I’d been.

“You scale-skin bastard,” Brock growled. “Get back here.”

Casting quick glances from him to Harman, I retreated as my few remaining spikes emerged to stand out on my arms. Adrenaline couldn’t fully drown the burning pain in my muscles, or stop the way my body was shaking. My legs were so wobbly, they felt like they’d change at any moment, becoming a tail that’d get me killed.

Brock stalked toward me, his face a tangle of glowing cracks extending from eyes that were nothing but impossibly red fire.

“I am going to gut you,” he snarled, “you disgusting little–”

He charged.

I tumbled to the side, narrowly avoiding stabbing myself with my spikes as I hit the floor. Skidding on the concrete, Brock spun and then lunged at me again.

Frantic, I rolled and scrambled for my feet.

His hands caught my back and shoved me. Harman stumbled away with a panicked shout as I crashed to the ground only inches from the table and his research. Ignoring him, I rolled again, trying to spot Brock before he could grab me.

My gaze caught on the underside of the table and suddenly, I realized what Harman had been holding onto this entire time.

A gun.

An enormous, double-barreled shotgun.

Lunging up, I snagged the weapon and ripped it from the straps holding it to the table. Brock’s red eyes went wide at the sight, and with a roar, he rushed at me again.

I swung the gun around, notched it to my shoulder fast as I could, and then pulled the trigger.

The recoil nearly took my arm off.

Brock stopped a few feet from me, alarm spreading across his face. My ears rang from the blast, but I didn’t look away from him as he stumbled.

His fiery eyes blinked. Dark blood spread across the chest of his tight t-shirt.

He crumpled to his knees and then toppled sideways to the ground.

Shaking, I clutched the edge of the table and tugged myself upright on legs that still felt like they wanted to change.

Harman stood motionless, staring at me with his arms frozen in mid-reach for the jars and papers still scattered on the table.

A shiver ran through me. My grip tightened on the gun.

The door on the far side of the room burst open. Harman’s granddaughter raced in.

She skidded to a stop, her eyes going wide at the sight of me and the shotgun.

“E-Ellie, what are you–” Harman stammered. “Get out of here, girl! He’ll–”

“Please,” she interrupted him, lifting her hands as if to show she had no weapons. Her gaze darted from my legs to the jars on the tabletop, and she swallowed hard. “Please, I-I’m sorry. Please hear me. I’m so sorry for what he did.”

My brow drew down.

“Please don’t shoot him,” she begged.

“Ellie, get out of here,” Harman urged.

My hand twitched on the gun.

“Please!” Ellie cried. She took a breath and inched a step closer. “Please, Zeke. It’s Zeke, right? Just… please. I’m here to help. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m only here to help.”

She came another step into the room.

“Don’t let him near you, girl!” Harman cried. “They just need to touch you and then you’ll be–”

“Grandpa, shut up!” she shouted, not looking away from me. A choked noise escaped her. “Just… shut up.” She swallowed hard again. “Zeke, Chloe’s out there. The greliarans are going after her and that…” her gaze flicked to the gun, “that could stop them.”

“Where?” I demanded.

She nodded toward the door behind her. “This way.”

I glanced to Harman, trembling. I didn’t know what I wanted to do to him. Something. Anything.

So much I didn’t know where to begin.

“Please,” Ellie implored.

My gaze twitched back to her. Letting out an unsteady breath, I headed for the door.

Harman made a panicked sound. “Eleanor, get back! You don’t–”

“How could you, Grandpa? How?”

She retreated hastily as I came near, terror flashing through her light brown eyes, though the expression turned to pain again when she looked back to her grandfather.

I ignored it all. My hand gripping the gun and my body still trembling with the urge to use it, I walked out of the room.