Page 69 of We Will Rise

I pause at the door before I pull out the key I stashed in my pocket before we left the compound. The lock clicks a moment before I push the door open and find the empty space staring back at me.

“Camilla? Crew?” I call out as we file into the room and lock the door behind us.

The apartment has three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a gym, so there’s a chance they’re just getting cleaned up or something, but the same unease I’ve been feeling since we left the compound rolls over me.

I walk deeper into the apartment, and Kovu and Kaos are on my heels, but the only sound in the place is our footfall on the tiles beneath our feet.

Panic slips around my throat, and I can barely breathe as we pass each room and find it empty, until we reach the bedroom at the end of the hall with the door closed.

I try to rationalize that they’ll be on the other side of the door, but when I clutch the door handle between my fingers, I swallow heavily, knowing it will be empty just like all the others.

The door swings open, and Kaos pushes past me with his gun in his hands, clearing the room for threats before Kovu and I step inside, but my eyes are locked on the bed where there’s a small patch of blood with something in the center.

It’s not until I step closer that I realize what it is.

Two trackers sit in the middle of the comforter, and my stomach bottoms out.

They have Crew and Camilla, and we have no way of finding them.

CHAPTER FIFTY

CREW

The ache in my temple is almost too painful to force my eyes open through, but even without piecing together what happened at the compound, I know I’m in danger.

When you’ve lived the life I have, you spend most of your existence expecting something bad to happen. And when you wake up with a headache like the one thumping through my head, it’s a pretty sure-fire way of reminding you of that.

I wrench my eyes open and blink through the pain that assaults me. The first thing I realize is that I’m not at the compound anymore.

The next is that I’m strung from chains attached to the ceiling, my toes barely brushing over the filthy concrete at my feet.

And after that, is Camilla strung up across from me.

Her arms are pulled in different directions as opposed to mine, which are straight over my head, and her feet are flush with the ground, but her head still lolls to the side, meaning she’s still unconscious.

I shove the panic that threatens to rise down as I try to piece together the moments that lead us here. We separated from the others, that I remember clearly.

We’d discussed it in passing that there was a possibility the compound would be attacked. Caleb knew where it was, and he wasn’t going to allow us to hide out there forever, so we decided that if that eventuality occurred, Camilla and I would use the tunnels and meet the others at the safe house.

I know we made it into the tunnels because I remember the feel of her hand in mine as I dragged her along. She was so hesitant to leave the others, but she was safer this way. Or so I thought.

How could they possibly know about the tunnel? No one knows about it outside of us.

Or the people that work for you, the thought hits me harder than it usually would.

Someone we trust betrayed us.

I breathe through another wave of agony in my head, pressing my eyes closed as I roll my neck to the other side, hoping the new position will help ease the pain. But that’s when I feel it.

My eyes fly open, as I look over Camilla. She’s still wearing the sweatpants and sweatshirt she was when I dressed her, but it’s only now that I notice the blood that soaks one side of her neck and the gray fabric around it.

They cut out our trackers.

Another thing they couldn’t have possibly known about without help.

Rogers.

He’s the only person who knows about them, because he was the one that shot them into our necks. He knew exactly where they were. And he could have easily cut them out.

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