Page 65 of Anorthic Anarchy

“Your money is in the account. You can take whatever car you want. Best to leave now. Before the dawn.”

When her face lifts, she shows the most emotion I’ve ever seen from her. A broad smile transforms her face at her deliverance. “Yes, sir.”

It’s almost morning by the time I fall back to sleep. So drowsy that I have my recurring nightmare for the first time in ages. Well, since Astrid occupied my bed. The horrors are only intensified when I’m awakened by yells and commotions in the hall. Sev throws open the door with force, and my chest thuds with shock.

“Sir! Your wife… Halcyon grabbed her. Falcon was following their van, but they blew out the tires, so she couldn’t proceed.”

Snapping awake, I rub my face and leap from the bed while tugging on clothes. “How far did they get?”

“Falcon believes they’ll stay in the North. Warehouse division. Or…”

My head whips to his as my air seizes in my lungs. I could cut his head off for pausing. “Orwhat?”

“Or the airfield, sir.”

Airfield would mean they’d take her anywhere. Biting my knuckle, I pace around the room for a moment. Then, I implement step one of my plan.

I sprint to the dungeons, locating the control room, and slide into the office chair in front of a desk. Sev huffs to catch up and leans against the door frame.

“You’ll stay here and guard.” It feels as if my heart is about to crack open my chest; the anxiety is almost too much to bear. But I’ve been over this in my head thousands of times.

Scanning the programs and lists on the monitor, I select the options I need. Then I shut down the power for the city sector by sector. Including the airport.

Next, I move to the armory room to snag weapons and a duffle bag. I barely feel the winter air cutting across my bare arms when I head out to the garage. Every step across thegravel echoes through my ears like a sound of doom. The bullet-proof Hummer is ready for battle, especially after I toss in the flamethrower and machine guns.

With a roar, the engine comes to life, and I speed down the winding drive, then head due west on the main street. Despite the flashing red lights operating on batteries, I motor through as cars swerve and honk when I almost power over them. Driving up the sides of the embankments, I skip past the confused drivers and floor the gas until I’m at the outskirts of the airport’s high fences. Things blur across my vision as I accelerate, tears filling the corners of my eyes.

This can’t be it for us.

I pull out my phone and locate the program I need, entering the code. The single flight tower rumbles slightly, then glass pops out of the windows until each shatters. It falls into a crumpled pile of dust. Watching the destruction settles something inside me, but it’s not enough.

I’ll destroy everything until I get her back.

Leaping from the vehicle with my weapon in hand, I stand in front of the electrical system nearby. The flames heat the box until it melts into a metallic goo on the grass. That will take them days to fix.

I jump back inside and press my foot all the way down on the pedal steering through side streets until the back of Von Dovish estate lay before me. The tires climb up on the curb, and I head straight through a wooden fence and continue at top speed to find the back entrance of the manor. With a jolt, I slam on the brake, my head rearing forward as I stop, practically right at the back door. I have enough room to slip out with a machine gun and shoot the glass barricading me from inside.

Calum Von Dovish stands in the middle of the foyer with his hands out, unsure of where to run. He looks as terrified as I feel inside. Good.

Tossing the sling over my shoulder, I let the firearm hang from my back and hold up my hands. My eyes catch the ginger spy with a rifle pointed at my head from the second story. She doesn’t worry me. Not compared to the loss of my wife.

Brushing off some airport dust from my jacket, I straighten up and announce, “Congrats on your pregnancy… Mr. Von Dovish, a word with you, please? It’s urgent.”

He swallows, then nods, letting his hands hang at his sides, but stiffness cloaks his shoulders. “Certainly. Would you care to join me in the?—”

“No. All I need to tell you is…do not restart the power. Repeat that back to me.”

A heavy brow hangs over his eyes as he tilts his head. “Do not restart the power.”

“That’s correct. Good job. I understand your capabilities, but you don’t know where to use them appropriately.”

Turning, my boots crunch through the broken shards of glass, but he stops me. “So where would you have me use them?”

With a toss of my voice over my shoulder, I call out, “On making sure the gas lines are still flowing.”

Hustling back to my Hummer, I aim for the East. In the middle of the city, I rove over the statues of my ancestors clogging up the center park until they topple. Anger seizes me that they caused all of this. If any of them had had the gall to stand up against the societies, I wouldn’t have to be here now. The gas mask I brought helps keep my face shielded from the wintry air when I exit and find the marker I need.

I dig up the pipe, then puncture it. Back in the SUV, I find a pack of matches and light one, then toss it toward the pipe. As I floor the accelerator, the explosion rocks the ground beneath me and the flames of the line spread fast along its route.

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