Into the Fire (Flame in the Shadows Trilogy #1)

26. Mel

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

MEL

I don’t know if I’ve ever slept quite so well.

It’s like I was aware, even while unconscious, of the sparkling joy that’s taken root deep in my soul. Wholesome and powerful, it flows through my veins like a song, lighting me up from the inside out.

Tommy’s long legs are tangled up with mine. All the stress around his eyes, his jaw, has melted away. He looks peaceful in sleep. Innocent.

I reach out and trace the shape of his flawless lips, just barely visible in the dark. Heat spawns low in my belly as I trail my fingers down his neck, across his shoulder, and over his bicep. His golden skin is so smooth, the bands of muscle rock-solid underneath.

I breathe in his woodsy scent, like a crisp autumn breeze through the pines, and sigh.

My life is a certifiable disaster. Even discounting last night’s near-death experience, my only potential future is here in the caves, scrubbing toilets and sweeping floors, unless I want to risk myself repeatedly on missions.

How can I feel so happy, be this happy, when that is true?

A half-smile softens Tommy’s features, and warmth sparks in my heart. I’m tempted to snuggle back into him, to drift away again, but I’m scheduled in the gardens at seven. I don’t want to get comfortable just in time for the alarm to wrench me awake.

I squint over my shoulder, searching for the luminous blue digits of my clock. There’s only darkness.

Strange. Maybe we knocked it off the table while we were … diverted.

Flipping away from Tommy, I reach over the edge of the bed. As my fingers brush the smooth surface of the clock, Tommy’s arms tighten around my ribs.

I glance up to find him watching me with warm eyes and a shy, heart-melting smile. “Good morning.”

I beam back. “Good morning yourself.”

“How are you?”

I stretch, joints popping, and savor the wellness zinging through my limbs, the all-encompassing joy glowing in my chest.

“Great. You?”

“No regrets?” His smile slips a little.

I snort. “Did you hear what I just said, or not?”

Tommy brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “I’m having a hard time believing this is real.”

His words, his expression, tug at my heart. He thinks he’s responsible for what happened to our parents, even though he was only fifteen when they died. There was nothing he could have done.

It’s survivor’s guilt.

With a frown, I capture his hand and press it to my lips. “Why?”

He shakes his head, apprehension stark in his eyes.

It makes me sad he feels so unsure of me, like I’ll turn on him instead of helping him through this. I suppose all I can do is show him he isn’t at fault for what happened, and I’m not going anywhere.

I kiss him softly, then throw the blankets aside and hop out of bed. As I bend to snatch up my clock, I notice the batteries scattered on the floor.

Whoops.

My cheeks flush as memories, sensations, fill my mind. I didn’t even realize we knocked this over.

I pop the batteries back in and the display lights up.

It’s 10:47 a.m.

I yelp like I’ve been zapped. Damn these caves and their utter lack of daylight!

“I was supposed to be in the gardens almost four hours ago!”

“Lisa always gives us the day off after a night mission. Don’t sweat it.”

I lunge for the small battery-powered lamp on my bedside table. Flipping it on, I find him on his back, studying the craggy ceiling with his hands behind his head and the blankets draped over his muscled abdomen. He’s so appealing I briefly consider climbing back under the covers, but Lisa didn’t mention anything to me about taking today off. I don’t want to make her mad, especially after all the progress I made yesterday.

“She never told me that.”

I head for the dresser, pull out fresh clothing, and dress at top speed. Behind me, Tommy sighs. The mattress squeaks as he climbs out of bed.

When I’m decent, I turn to see him dressed and examining the papers scattered on my desk. He’s wearing the fatigues and tank top he wore yesterday on the mission, his hoodie and damaged vest folded over an arm.

A smile lifts the corner of my mouth. This amazing man is mine. “I’ll see you later, right?”

Tommy doesn’t answer. Instead, he plucks a loaded keyring out from under a heap of balled-up sheets—lyrics destined for the trash—and dangles it in front of his face.

“What’s that? Are those yours?”

“No.” His tone radiates anxiety. “These are Lisa’s keys.”

Lisa’s keys. On my desk?

I glance at the cluttered surface, and my eyes snag on a fat manila envelope, resting on top of my notebook. I’ve never seen it before.

Huh.

I walk over and pick it up. It’s stuffed, practically bursting at the seams. I flip it over. No label.

“I proved myself trustworthy yesterday, didn’t I? Lisa must’ve dropped this off for me last night and forgotten her keys.”

My cheeks flame as I consider what she would’ve seen: Tommy and I asleep together, our clothes all over the floor.

Tommy places the keyring back on the desk. “I don’t know about that. It’s not like her.” He runs a hand through his messy hair. “Well? What’s in there?”

Mouth dry, I rip the envelope open and pull out a thick wad of paper. Several photos slip from between the sheets and flutter to the floor. The blood drains from my face when I make out the shapes. The colors.

The bodies.

Pain twists my stomach and holds it tight, like a fist. I dive for the trashcan as the papers tumble from my senseless fingers.

Mom and Dad. It’s Mom and Dad . Those corpses, warped and brutalized, smashed and shattered. They can’t be … they aren’t …

Black spots bloom over my vision as I heave over the trash, growing and shrinking and growing again. I can’t breathe. I can’t stop.

Gentle hands pull the hair away from my face.

I knew they were interrogated. Knew they suffered. But I never imagined the extent of it, couldn’t have dreamed what they must’ve endured for their bodies to have ended up looking like that.

I throw up again, tears mixing with the sticky sheen of sweat that coats my face.

It hits me then. Tommy saw this happen. In person.

My heart bleeds for him, for the depth of his suffering. I peer up at his wan face; it swims in my blurred vision. I try to speak, to confirm what I already know about the identity of the people in those photos, but all that comes out is a strangled whimper.

Tommy doesn’t say anything. He only watches me, misery leeching away the life in his eyes.

I shake my head. I don’t want to know what else was in the envelope. So many papers, scattered all over the floor.

But I need to look. I hold my breath and pluck a sheet from the ground, heart thundering in my chest.

It’s a transcript. Of an interrogation.

The interrogation.

Unable to make sense of it, I check another page, then another, fitting the text together like a ghastly puzzle.

Our parents weren’t asked anything about the location of the Resistance, the identity of its members, or the Resistance’s plans. Repeatedly, the Organization demanded to know about two things, and two things only: the chip Tommy mentioned at the shooting range, and something else called “the code.”

There aren’t any clues in the transcript as to what those things are, because not one of our parents cracked. At all. Not even when the interrogators broke their bones and burned their flesh. They denied knowing what the chip and the code were, even as they begged for mercy, then for death.

What they endured was so grisly. My consciousness flags, the room shimmers around me.

“Look at this.” Tommy hands me another document.

Not a transcript this time. A contract. Between Lisa Bridger and Mara Levett, dated over twenty years ago.

My mouth falls open.

I didn’t know Lisa worked at Levett Tech too. Directly with Mara, no less.

It makes sense, though. This must be how Lisa learned about the Organization in the first place. But according to Tommy and Sam, Lisa believes Mara is unaware of the corruption within her company. If Lisa knew Mara personally, why didn’t she warn her about what was happening right under her nose?

Returning my attention to the contract, I learn that Lisa had been head of a top-secret division within Levett Tech. Her department was wholly dedicated to creating a technological weapon for the US government. It’s clear from the contract’s language no one, besides Mara and Lisa’s team, knew about the project.

For Lisa to have held such a secretive, powerful position before going underground … she must have been threatened. That was how she found out about the Organization. They wanted the weapon she was supposed to develop, and they threatened her.

Or, hang on. Lisa’s a brilliant programmer. A genius hacker. “The code” from the interrogation is the weapon in this contract.

Lisa created it.

I press my fist to my mouth. I’m right. I can feel it. Mom’s best friend created the very thing she was killed over.

How did it come to that? Why did Lisa flee? And why did the Organization think Mom and Dad had anything to do with all this?

Brow furrowed, I read on.

Yes, it’s confirmed here: Lisa was to create a computer virus capable of ravaging the hardware and software of any system it came into contact with. Highly transmissible, infecting every system touched by the system harboring it, it was to overcome and destroy all cybersecurity on its way through.

Why on earth would our government want something like this?

Wordlessly, Tommy hands me a packet. Progress reports detailing Lisa’s work on the code. There are breakthroughs and setbacks, new ideas, testing. After about a year’s worth of notes, a new message appears: Lisa telling Mara she doesn’t think this weapon should be developed, explaining what could happen if the code were leaked online.

According to Lisa, it would propagate too quickly to defend against, and not only tear apart the fabric of the Web but fry every physical device connected to it. Because everything is linked online, the virus would spread everywhere. The information lost would not be recoverable.

Bank accounts, security systems, businesses, even governments, all down in a matter of hours. The virus would expand across the world, leaving society as we know it in shambles.

Mara’s only response was a clear dismissal of Lisa’s concern.

That must be why Lisa never told Mara about the Organization. Or maybe she did, and Mara didn’t believe her.

Chest tight, I flip through the rest of the pages, the story of the Resistance’s origin unfolding before my eyes. Over the next few years, Lisa’s progress on the code slowed and slowed. Her reports became full of unforeseen issues. Real, or was she stalling on purpose?

Then, an incident report. Lisa’s lab caught fire. Every computer, every document was burned to a crisp. Not only that, but every electronic record of Lisa’s work disappeared too. There was nothing left, no remnant of the code anywhere in Levett’s system. In addition, Lisa and her entire team vanished, and neither Mara Levett, nor the Organization, has found any trace of their whereabouts since, at least not as far as these records indicate.

This was when they went underground. Lisa’s team from Levett Tech were the original members of the Resistance.

What happened to push them to such an extreme choice? Obviously, Lisa found out about the Organization. How, though? Was she threatened? If so, the Organization must regret that decision now.

The next set of documents are communications between someone named Mr. Edwards and his subordinates in the Organization. After Lisa’s disappearance, they went straight for a man named Frank Sullivan. Apparently, Frank was a brilliant coder too, a savant in his field.

Threatening pain and death for Frank’s family, they coerced him into redeveloping the virus for them. The dates here indicate he worked on it for years, putting everything he had into creating something perfect. Indestructible, unstoppable, and highly transmissible between systems.

Five years ago, Frank succeeded.

I swallow. The virus is out there somewhere, and the Organization has control of it. Why haven’t they used it yet?

Feeling sick, I flip the page. My parents’ names leap out at me.

It’s a set of emails.

Reyna,

I know you and Max are out of the game and want to keep it that way. I understand your motivations for stepping back, truly I do, but the world is quite literally at stake. Sullivan’s succeeded.

If the Organization gets their hands on the code, life as we know it is over. While society struggles to deal with the fall of technology, the terrorist cell behind Mr. Edwards will use the ensuing chaos to take action. Despite our best efforts to thwart their shipments, they have plenty of Levett weapons at their disposal. Mara is just as blind to the corruption as ever. Millions will die, Rey. Millions.

You know the address. You know what must be done. Take Sullivan out. We have no choice. Destroy every piece of technology in that house. I’ve hacked into Sullivan’s software and deleted as much as I can from here, but we can’t risk missing anything. There’s at least one microchip, and we’ve confirmed he’s loaded the code onto it. He means to pass it to the Organization at the annual Levett conference.

Destroy it. If he’s made copies, destroy those too.

We cannot get agents across the country in time. You and Max are our only hope. The world’s only hope. I’m sorry.

Do not reply. Send word through the Williamses when you come for the conference.

I miss you.

– Lis

And underneath:

Lis,

You already know, but I’ll say it anyway. I’ll do what must be done.

I’ve decided not to share your message with Max. He’ll be against getting involved, and, well, I want to keep him safe. If things go south for me, at least Mel will have him.

I’ll pass you my report through the Williamses, but because Max won’t be aware of it, I’ll need to do so secretly. You’ll know where to find my message when you see it. I’m not going to give the Williamses any details, just in case.

I miss you too, more all the time. I wish you could meet Mel. She’s so like Max in some ways, but so like me in others. Oh, you’d laugh if you could see her. Such a rule breaker. My poor mother, I never knew what I put her through all those years until now.

Hugs,

-Rey

And one last message:

Reyna,

Ha, shocker. I’d expect nothing less of your daughter.

DO NOT REPLY. I cannot guarantee the security of incoming messages!

Good luck. Be careful.

-Lis

With trembling fingers, I stroke the text. Mom typed this note. She chose the words, strung them together. It’s like a little window into her soul.

Tommy pulls the packet from my hands and wraps his arms around me. I lean into his warmth, icy chills running over my skin, hot tears sliding down my cheeks.

“Shh,” he soothes into my hair.

I try to spit out the feeling stuck in my throat, to define the horror surging through me, but I can’t. So many things happened over the years to result in the night of their deaths. If just one thing had gone differently, even something unrelated, it wouldn’t have happened. If Aunt Amy hadn’t moved to California for school, for example, if Grandma hadn’t died soon after and Mom hadn’t wanted to be closer to her only sister, we wouldn’t have lived near Sullivan. Mom wouldn’t have gotten involved.

Why us? Why not somebody else?

Tommy anchors me to the world while dreadful sobs wrack my body and sickness whirls in the pit of my stomach.

Mom. Sweet, loving, bold, fearless. Always laughing. Always smiling.

Dad. Quiet, thoughtful, artistic, kind. One of the kindest people I’ve ever met. Selfless.

Good people. The best. They didn’t deserve the end they met. So much pain, and for what? The Organization is still at large.

Suddenly, I’m aflame with a rage so powerful I can’t help the ferocious scream that slices up and out of my throat. I hate the monsters who not only murdered them but destroyed them. Ripped them to shreds. All to find a horrible weapon, to hurt even more people.

I leap to my feet, nails biting into my palms, while the inferno scalds my insides.

Tommy blinks. There’s a spark of surprise in his dull eyes, but mostly, they look like desolate wastes.

It wasn’t only my parents, or his, who suffered. Could the Organization have more thoroughly destroyed Tommy? Look at the nightmare he had last night. His wild panic, the awful sobs while he slept. His terror, his anguish so clear to see.

The memory fuels my rage further. It blisters in my chest, scorches in my head, washes the room around me scarlet.

“They are going to pay.”

“What does that mean?” Tommy frowns, his voice thin.

Striding up and down the room, I seethe. “The Organization. They hurt people. They want to hurt more people, a lot more people. What are we doing to prevent that? Sure, we steal their weapons, disrupt their shipments. Big deal. They already have weapons. We need to stop them. To take them down, once and for all.”

Tommy’s brows pull together. “That’s impossible. Too big a job. The Organization is huge. Well connected, well funded. We do what we can, but in the end we’re just twenty-eight people, shackled by our need for secrecy. Our lives depend on it, and if we die, so do the innocents we’re able to protect. The Resistance isn’t meant to end the Organization.”

He pulls himself off the floor, opens his arms to me in a calming gesture. “We can’t stop them. We can only delay them, and delay them again, and again. That saves lives. Lisa monitors their comms, and sometimes, we save a person that way too. Like Sam. He used to work at Levett Tech as an accounting intern. He stumbled onto evidence—fudged numbers. He started poking around, figuring things out. Lisa caught Mr. Edwards’s order to have him eliminated. We saved his life.”

My heart stutters at the thought of Sam in the Organization’s hands.

Still, it’s?—

“Not enough,” I spit. “Think about what we got for Lisa. What do you suppose BioAgent 313 is? Why would Lisa go to such lengths to steal information on it, when she’s usually so cautious? The pattern is repeating. Lisa got desperate, and she sent my mom to get this chip. She’s desperate again. Something big is going down.”

A cavern yawns open in my chest. “I don’t know whether the code still exists, or if Mom destroyed it, but even if the Organization doesn’t have it, you said you guys have seen more arms deals go down in the last few months than in the two years before that. There’s something important happening. We need to find Lisa. Now.”

“Wait!” Tommy grabs my arm as I turn for the door. “Think this through. You’re in possession of a file so top secret, even I wasn’t allowed to see it. You have Lisa’s keys. Something weird is going on.”

He pauses, sliding his hand down my arm to lace his fingers with mine. “I don’t quite understand what, but it’s not going to be good when Lisa finds out you have these documents. You’re not just going to be in trouble, you’ll be in danger . We have to decide how to deal with the files and the keys. And you can’t tell Lisa you know about this.”

A beat of doubt pulses through me, but it’s incinerated almost immediately by searing, bellowing rage. Tommy’s right. Something weird is going on. With the Resistance just starting to trust me, possessing these documents is damning. Someone must’ve put them here to get rid of me, and it’s likely they’ll succeed.

But that doesn’t matter. Stopping the Organization is more important than my safety.

Mom and Dad proved that.

“I don’t care. The Resistance can make a difference. The Resistance should make a difference. If not us, who? If we do nothing, our parents will have died for no reason. We cannot be cowards. We need to finish what they started.”

Tommy stumbles back, looking for all the world like I slapped him in the face. Does he think I’m calling him a coward?

I don’t have room in me to feel bad. I spin and stride for the door, leaving the documents all over the floor. They can stay there. I have bigger fish to fry.

Like finding Lisa and making her act, consequences be damned.