32. Evan

32

EVAN

A n ear-splitting roar reaches us through the trees long before we reach the base of the dam.

The explosion rocked the ground a few minutes before, nearly sending us off the road.

We’re too late.

Now it’s a gamble of whether another one might go off or that the damage done will get worse with each passing minute. The risk of our getting swept off is a very real possibility.

Neither of us addresses it as Gavin guides us off the road and through the sparse trees along the Eastern side of the reservoir’s retaining wall.

The sound here is beyond deafening.

Plugging our ears, we step out onto rumbling earth, the sound as much a sensation as anything, vibrating deep into my chest.

Wide-eyed, we lock stares for a moment before we simultaneously snap back to reality.

We’re in over our heads.

A short hike gets us within sight of the damage.

I’ve never seen such a powerful display of destructive force.

The opening in the dam is small compared to the breadth of the structure, but we may as well be ants next to a river.

Gavin waves me over, setting down his pack.

Shouting as loud as he can, I can just make out his words, watching his mouth to read along.

“There’s no way we can shore it up!”

“Oh, really?”

Gavin grimaces at my sarcasm. “We need to check all along the base for another payload. I’ll start near the breach, head that way. Run to the other end and work your way back.”

“Meet in the middle. Got it!” I shoulder my pack, taking off at a run.

His assignment is a wise one. Being lighter and faster, I can make it down to the far end more quickly and back. Not to mention that he’s got way more experience with this sort of thing. If there’s anything that can be done near the break, he’s the one better equipped to analyze it.

A couple of minutes later, I’m huffing and puffing, sweat trickling down my face as I reach the far end of the retaining wall. Scrambling up the embankment, I reach the base, pausing to catch my breath. As I do, I look out across the valley.

The land sweeps away below over the treetops. Just enough moonlight reveals the spread of Sanctum Harbor in the distance.

My town.

And off to the left, back at our base, Hellena.

I hated to leave her, to slip out into the night without saying a word. But looking at her lying there, completely at peace in Tell’s arms…

The phone call came only a few hours after we fell asleep.

I eased out of bed, headed into the living room to answer the blocked number. Something squirmed in my gut, like I knew what was coming.

“Devonde planted bombs. Overlook Reservoir. Danger. Hurry.”

That’s it. A click signaled the line going dead before I could respond, before I could ask any questions.

Despite the voice modification, I could tell it wasn’t automated. Something in the way they said the words was clipped. Strained.

But the garbled voice was all too familiar. I’ve received three other calls like this one over the years, aside from the encrypted texts and emails that usually relay my orders.

My initial instinct was to ignore it. Blow it off.

I can’t trust whoever made that call. Not after what we’ve learned.

However, in this case, knowing what we know, what Devonde said before he died…

I couldn’t let it slide.

Even so, I stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. I felt like I should go, check on the threat.

Yet all I wanted to do is go back to her, to Hellena, and forget all of it.

She wouldn’t want that, though.

She would be rushing out the door to save her city. And I won't let her down. Never again.

I want to make this home a safe and amazing place for all of us.

For the first time in my life, that drive isn’t simply my own interest. Sanctum has become an integral part of who I am, where I want to be. The people I have worked with, manipulated, catered to… they’re more than just clients, marks, or patsies.

They’re the lifeblood of the entity that Sanctum represents.

Whether that’s the Sinful, or the Block, or the Ghosts. What really matters is that the dream of what our town was supposed to be stays alive.

A part of me knows that’s naive.

But like Hellena, it’s everything to me.

Shaking myself, I snap back to the task before me, adjusting my pack and setting off along the gravel walkway at a trot. My flashlight bobs along ahead of me, keeping my focus on my search.

Within a minute of running, I spot it, a mechanism sitting against the wall, wedged into what appears to be a hastily carved alcove. It’s bigger than I expected, built into the orange frame of a generator.

There’s no way I can even lift it by myself. And the timer is counting down, the red numbers knifing into my brain like a hot poker.

“GAVIN!” I shout, throwing caution to the wind.

Anyone, even Marco’s men, would have to be absolutely stupid to be out here.

I see him before I hear him call back, running along the wall toward me. He looks damp, a little frantic.

“Find anything?” I can barely hear my own voice. “Help me pull this thing out!”

Gavin shakes his head, waving for me to follow.

Knowing better than to argue, I sprint after him, noting his urgency.

When we reach the other bomb, I see why. The counter is so much lower than the one I found. Gavin nods, sidling up to it and pulling.

“Grab that side!” He grits the words out as we get into position, gripping the rail bar of the contraption. I heave back, dragging it out of the hole.

“Can you disarm this?” I gasp, setting down my side as we clear the dip in the gravel, preparing to lift it again.

“No time. We need to get it to the lip of the hill. Roll it down!”

My mind races as we struggle with the incredible bulk of the thing. We can barely drag it, and time is running out.

“Look at me!” Gavin shouts, drawing my attention away from the forty-five-second and dropping count.

Nodding, we double down, hauling with all of our strength.

I am so thankful it’s him, that Gavin is with me.

And I see what Hellena sees, that impossibly steadfast nature. He’s an island in a storm.

Absolutely calm and focused.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Gavin’s voice shook me as I stood by the kitchen table.

“No. I mean… something else. I got a call. From Hubris, I think. Or whoever has been posing as Hubris.”

“What?”

I relayed to him what I was told. That I wasn't sure I believed them.

Gavin just went to get dressed, told me to do the same. We left five minutes later. It makes me wonder whether we could have made it in time if I hadn’t hesitated for those precious minutes.

The edge of the hill is right there, a few feet away. Those last steps take an eternity.

Tipping it over the side takes every ounce of effort I have left.

Then it’s tumbling away down the hill.

I watch it, stunned for a second, before Gavin grabs my arm, yanking me along.

“Gotta try to disarm the last one!”

By the time we get there, my hopes of that happening, and my energy reserves, are all but dry.

Gavin doesn’t even flinch, dropping to his knees and passing me his light. All I can do is stand there like a fool, holding the light for him to try to save us.

Helpless.

A way I swore never to feel again.

One minute slips away as he fidgets with the wiring, opening panels, examining the interior of the mechanism. I can see the truth on his face before he finally looks up.

“Failsafe!” he shouts, the words enough to tell me there’s no chance.

“Can we drag it?” I ask, but I know the answer. We’re both too tired, and it will take too long.

“I can diminish the blast if I rip out the wires from the base…” He says it tentatively.

“But…?”

“But it will go off if I do.”

“How much time?”

Not what we have left, but for us to get clear.

“Enough.” I’ve never heard Gavin lie before.

I choose to take it. Go with it.

Because I know he won’t back down. That if I try to get him to go without doing this, I’ll be arguing with a brick wall more sturdy than the fucking dam above us.

“Do it!” I shout, spreading my feet, preparing to run.

Gavin crouches down, jamming his hand deep into the frame. He locks eyes with me. Everything goes dead quiet in my head.

Then he yanks his hand out.

Grabbing his arm, I jerk him along with me, sprinting harder than I ever have. All I can hear is my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Our ragged breathing.

Our thumping footfalls in the gravel, just audible over the roar of the water farther down the dam.

The concussion of the bomb throws us off our feet. My ears ring as I spin through the air.

Gavin’s hand is the only anchor point to reality I have left, his fingers crushing mine in a vise grip as we tumble.

When the water hits us, it’s a blisteringly cold hammer blow to the head, the shock of the temperature and the force of the torrent nearly tearing us apart. In the span of three seconds, we’re tossed down the embankment, down the slope, into the trees.

Trunks snap.

I manage to kick off one and dodge another, Gavin trailing behind me. Even in the tumult of the rapids, he never lets go.

Something hits my lower leg, and a resounding snap rattles through me. Blinding pain hits a split second later.

I feel Gavin clench in a similar fashion and I know he’s getting beaten just as badly.

The flood careens us along at a horrific speed, cartwheeling us under every so often, tossing us out into open space for a moment, then sucking us back in. In midair, we haul into one another, hugging as we plunge under again, holding on as tight as we can and blocking each other from impacts and flying debris.

Squeezing my eyes shut against the freezing, muddy wash as we drop over another steep fall, I feel us suddenly jerk to a halt. My legs dangle out over nothing before dropping back into the steep flow of the cascade. Above me I hear a deep, painful grunt.

“Hold on!” Gavin shouts, trying and failing to lift me up toward the massive tree he’s hanging onto with one arm, blood seeping around the crook of his elbow as he keeps us stationary.

“Gavin!”

“I got you…”

“No, you don’t!” I can see it. The agony in his eyes.

I don’t need to look far to see why. He’s gushing blood down his side. His wrist is misshapen, the bone jutting oddly in the middle of his forearm just above my hand gripping his wrist. How he’s managing to hang onto me is beyond me.

And I know he won’t be able to for much longer.

Not before his other arm gives out.

“Let me go!”

“Fuck you! No way!” I feel his fingers tighten, and he roars with unrestrained torment.

“It’s okay, Gav! You have to make it out. You have to make it back to her!”

“You do too, you idiot!”

My fingers slip an inch. Another. I can’t feel most of my extremities in the cold. At least one of my fingers is broken.

“Please, Gavin!”

“No, I'm not fucking letting you go. I'm not losing you! She needs you!”

“She needs you more! You can take better care of her than I ever could. And you can protect her from Marco! You have to kill that son of a bitch!”

“No!” he sobs, realizing the inevitable. If he lets go now, we’ll both die in the fall. There’s no way he can possibly keep his grip on me, either.

“Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her I’ll miss her. Tell her I love her.”

“You tell her that yourself!” He screams, his grip giving out.

I hang on for a second more, clinging to his wrist. Then I’m falling, dropping into the darkness. Over the roar of the current, I make out his scream in the night.

The water catches me, knocking me senseless.

Cold. Only ice, bitter cold.

Then nothing.