The picture of Delaney on the side was drawn by my awesome artistic friend MlleNightingale, who can draw... quite unlike me xD.

Chapter Forty-Three

Delaney

I don't know how long I was unconscious. It could have been a minute, an hour; it could have been a hundred years. As I slipped in and out of hazy awareness, my mind was locked in a struggle between the darkness behind my eyes and the harsh lights of reality. Wherever my consciousness lay, there was no measure of time.

It was an excruciating, exhausting effort, trying not to drown in the thick abyss. The only relieving thing about it was that in there, I felt none of the pain that Dr. Leary's serum had inflicted. The fire had cooled to a low blaze, and in my near-delirious state, I could hardly feel it. I could hardly feel anything.

Dimly, through the syrupy blackness, I heard voices shouting my name, calling me in desperate cries that reached my ears as breathy whispers. I wanted to respond, to follow the sound back into cognizance, but I couldn't find my mouth to form the words. But the voices kept yelling, and I kept striving, swimming toward the faint yelling even as my head threatened to implode.

I woke up gasping.

"Delaney!" The voices were louder now—much louder, to the point where they reverberated painfully against my eardrums. I winced at deafening sound, tensing until my ears popped and my hearing returned to normal.

"Delaney, are you okay?" That was Trai's voice, sounding strained and anxious.

It took me a moment to put together a response as I blinked away the room's bright lighting.

"Fine," I murmured eventually, squinting. "I'm fine."

"What the hell did he do to you?" Abby asked in a harsh whisper, looking at me sideways as I finished catching my breath.

"I have no idea," I replied, shuddering. Sweat poured down my face and dripped onto my sweater, but there was a chill under my skin. "Where did he go?"

"He said something about a breach," Trai supplied, "then went all crazy on us, saying that we lied to him and that we'd be punished for it later."

Abby shook her head in disgust. "Let's hope he never comes back."

I leaned back against the headrest of my seat, sighing. There wasn't much else I could do; I could hardly move. The extra restraints that Leary had installed were still in place, holding back any movement. I could feel stinging cuts on my arms and legs from where the metal had sliced my flesh.

"Are you sure you're all right, Delaney?" Trai questioned quietly, watching me with an expression of concern.

I thought about it. I had definitely felt better than I did at that moment. My body was still shivering from the aftershocks of the injection, and I had a monstrous headache. Not only that, but my stomach churned with nausea, probably prompted by the sight of the blood seeping from beneath the restraints on my wrists.

So, no, I wasn't all right at all.

But I also wasn't on fire anymore. My internal temperature had cooled significantly—though my jeans and t-shirt suddenly seemed suffocating—leaving me with the sweaty relief of a fever breaking. Plus, Leary was gone, it appeared that the Pro-Inferiors had made it in, and someone was going to retrieve us soon.

"I'm alive," was all I said. Trai didn't look convinced, but he nodded.

"Thankfully. God, the way you were screaming, I thought you were a goner."

I didn't comment, the agonizing memory still fresh in my mind.

"I'll be glad when this is all over," I admitted quietly. "I wish they'd just come and rescue us already."

Neither of the Kaiser siblings responded at first, both of them staring pensively into their laps.

"What?" I demanded.

Abby and Trai glanced at each other, then Abby shrugged. "It's just that Nessa and Perfecta don't know where we are. They said themselves that they have no idea what Miracle had planned for us. With everything they have going on, how are they supposed to find us?"

I sucked in a breath. "They said they would."

"I know they did," Abby said gently, "but their instructions were so vague, and the fact that we're still here makes me kind of uncertain."

"They said they would save us," I insisted, clutching the armrests of my chair despairingly. "They said their rebellion would work."

Abby shook her head. "I'm not saying that it won't work," she assured. "But I have a sneaking suspicion that they were never planning to save us at all."

Caleb

The hallways were silent as I led Christopher and Jeanette down the familiar path to Ms. Shea's cell. As I navigated through the empty corridors, I vaguely noticed my hands clenching and relaxing, my brows knitting together, and my lips pressing tightly against each other. Beads of sweat formed among the small hairs on the back of my neck, then trickled beneath the collar of my shirt.

There was a heavy feeling of dread weighing down my stomach, sometimes morphing into uncertainty. I had no idea when our time would run out—I just knew that it would, and we had to be ready for it, or we would be dead.

My brother must have known it too, because he hurried us along at an anxious pace. The closer we got to Ms. Shea's cell, the more suffocatingly hot it became. Turning the final corner before her compartment, I ripped off my suit jacket, tearing the shoulder, and tossed it away without caring where it landed. Now in only a t-shirt, I felt slightly less tense, but nervous blood still flowed through my body.

"Is this it?" Christopher asked as we stopped in front of the simple door.

"Yeah," I confirmed, then yelled, "Ms. Shea!"

There was no answer. Growling, I kicked the door, knocking it so hard that it swung open and detached from its hinges.

"Ms. Shea!"

It was dark inside, and I ran my hand along the wall until I found a switch. The lights that came on were hardly adequate, but they were bright enough to see the woman chained to the far wall. She positioned just as she had been when I'd seen her two days before, but she didn't look up at the sound of our entrance.

I looked over my shoulder at my two companions. Champion's expression was impassive, but Jeanette, who hadn't said a thing since stepping out of the elevator, looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. Her pretty face was twisted into an ambivalent frown, and when I glanced at her, she looked away.

Shaking my head, I strode further into my room until I was a few feet away from the imprisoned woman. Still, she had not acknowledged our presence.

"Ms. Shea?" I said quietly. Her head was bowed, her body covered with blood and bruises.

"Miracle did this?" Champion asked. I nodded distractedly, kneeling down beside my old teacher with a sinking feeling. She did not respond.

"Ms. Shea?" I whispered. "Myra?" Gritting my teeth, put my fingers under the cold skin of her chin and tilted her head up. Her eyes were closed, her lips in a straight, lifeless line.

"Oh my god," Jeanette cried.

I gasped and fell back. There were new gashes along the woman's cheeks, with fresh blood still trickling from them. Her lips were sliced and swollen, and her nose bent at a painful angle. And right above her brow, marring her features almost completely, was a gaping, gory wound. Her forehead seemed to have caved in on itself, her skull crushed and bloody.

Miracle, it appeared, had been back.

"Ms. Shea!" I leaned forward onto my knees, grabbing the teacher's shoulder and shaking her desperately. "Come on, wake up! We have to get out of here!"

I continued yelling, almost incoherently, until a gentle hand put pressure on my shoulder. I whirled around, expecting my brother, but it was Jeanette who stood there, still looking unsure. Christopher was several feet away pressing his forehead against the wall.

"She's not going to wake up, Caleb," Jeanette told me softly. "Your teacher is dead."

"No, she's not," I said harshly, shoving the girl away and turning back to Ms. Shea. "Wake up, Ms. Shea! We're getting you out of here."

"Sorry, little brother," Chris murmured, his eyes looking haunted. "She's gone. And we've gotta go."

All of a sudden, I became aware of footsteps coming down the hallway. Even in my hopeless state, I was able to focus my hearing on the conversation of the people approaching.

"You're wasting our time," said one, a female voice. "Dr. Leary told us to set up things for him downstairs, not investigate every sound that makes us jump."

The other voice grunted. "Don't tell me you didn't hear the voices."

"We're in the goddamn prison block, Mahoney. It could have been anything."

"Maybe you're right, okay?" the man snapped. "But I'm not going to risk it. Just two minutes to check it out, and I swear we'll go. I just don't want any of those rebel invaders to be sneaking around down here."

Jeanette's eyes widened as the voices came close enough for her to hear them as well. I saw Christopher scanning the room for a quick escape, and pointed to the darkened doorway where I had hidden when I'd followed Nessa and Perfecta. I had no idea where it led, but it seemed to be our only option. Regardless of who these people were, they were working for Leary, and I didn't want to get tangled up with him.

"Go," I hissed to Jeanette, pushing her toward the doorway where Chris already stood. She stumbled over, then turned and stared at me, wide-eyed.

"What about you?" she mouthed.

I shook my head. "I'll be fine." Without waiting for an answer from her, I whirled around and threw myself at the chains holding Ms. Shea in place. I don't know why I did it; maybe I thought that my teacher was still alive, despite the evidence against it. Maybe it was a final act of desperation, to convince myself that I hadn't failed her. But regardless of why, I tried.

My entire body was buzzing with adrenaline as I tugged at the chains, making sweat pour down my face and off my chin. Panting, I wiped my forehead with the sleeve of my t-shirt. It came off damp. I felt anxious and hot and jittery, like I'd just downed twenty energy drinks. But I kept pulling, because for some reason, I was hellbent on getting my teacher free.

"Caleb, get the hell out of there!" Chris yelled, and two things happened at once. First, with one final yank, the chains restraining Myra Shea to the wall came free, pulling from the wall with a satisfying pop. Then, two figures burst into the cell, shouting, with guns hefted onto their shoulders.

I watched, almost calmly, as a hail of bullets released from their weapons, coming toward me at two thousand miles per hour. Chris and Jeanette were screaming from somewhere to my right, but everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Somehow, I managed to twist my body, moulding it into shapes that defied the approaching bullets. All of them hit the wall behind me, showering my body with sharp bits of shrapnel. Leary's gunpeople prepared for another round.

And just like that, everything sped into real time.

"Caleb!" Christopher was screaming. "Get over here!" He pushed Jeanette into the darkness of the doorway, staring at me with panic-stricken eyes. Our assailants were turning, pointing their guns toward our escape route.

I acted quickly. With a grunt, I ripped one of the freed chains in half, winding it over my shoulder and hurling it as hard as I could toward the outstretched guns. It managed to hit them both, the momentum sending the weapons into the wall. The man and the woman were momentarily shocked, staring at their now empty hands in disbelief.

That moment was all I needed.

My body moved on its own, rushing toward the attackers at lighting speed and knocking them over, into the wall. The man aimed a punch at my face, but I grabbed his wrist and flipped him over on top of the woman. They both groaned, stunned for a few seconds.

"Caleb, come on!"

I turned to my brother, who was beckoning toward the doorway frantically. I knew that I had wasted enough time already. As he called my name, again and again, I cast one last glance at my teacher, my dead, lifeless teacher who I hadn't been able to save. With a hardened heart, I murmured a silent apology.

Then I ran like I had never run in my life.

A/N: THIS CHAPTER IS UNEDITED. I am in a major rush and don't have the time. If anyone sees any grammatical errors, tell me, please! I'll have to run through this later.