That’s one thing.
Poor choices—that’s another. I made my share. I didn’t fool myself about that. Not telling Clayton before all this happened, that was a poor choice. He should have known, and I never should have let Kilbourne take that moment from us. Not like he had.
That was a poor choice on my part. I never meant for it to get this out of hand. Overly optimistic, maybe, or maybe I was just hoping that this new side of Clayton, his new determination and new ability would mean that this new plan wouldn’t end like the last one.
He would have said I knew better, and I suppose I did.
I have, you’ll remember, made my fair share of bad decisions.
Probably the hardest one to live with, though, was having to run and leave Clayton in the hands of that twisted bastard.
April leaned against the wall, her heart pounding, tears trying to escape from her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to run. She hated herself for it, even if she didn’t know what else she could have done. Clay was right—this wasn’t just about her. If she got out, she’d come back for him. She’d make sure he was okay. Still—she had something else to think about, and she knew that no matter how bad things were for Clay in Kilbourne’s hands, he would rather have suffered far worse as long as it made sure that their child was safe from that monster.
She put a hand over her stomach. How was she supposed to do this? She didn’t know. She couldn’t help thinking this was wrong. She needed to go back to Clayton, needed to get him out of here, but if she got caught, what good was it? And what kind of a mother was she, anyway? She’d already put her child at risk.
She heard someone coming and started moving again. She never should have agreed to this. Maybe if she turned back, if she managed to get to Kilbourne… No, it was far more likely that all she’d end up doing was getting herself caught and making their child a part of Kilbourne’s twisted experiments. She did not know would happen to her in that equation, but she doubted she’d be allowed to live for long.
She ducked into a room, hoping she’d done so in time to avoid the man coming toward her. She looked around her. An office. Okay. She could work with this. She crawled over to the coat on the back of the chair and smiled with satisfaction as she took a cell phone out of the pocket. She turned it on and quickly pressed the buttons for Larabee’s number. Someone had some explaining to do.
She shuddered as she heard the maniacal laughter that started Larabee’s voice mail message and sighed. Clearly that wasn’t going to work. Who else did she call, then? One of her friends from work? Oh, yeah, hi, it’s April Moore. Yeah, my husband—who happens to have a very unique genetic ability—got kidnapped by a sadist who calls himself a scientist. I was with him, but I sort of escaped, only we’re stuck here and need someone to help us get out. Oh, and did I mention I’m pregnant and this bastard wants to experiment on my baby?
She didn’t think anyone was going to believe her, and who were they going to get? The police? What if Kilbourne had contacts there? And even if they did believe her and could call and the authorities weren’t in Kilbourne’s pockets, she had no idea where she was.
She called Larabee again. “Larabee, it’s April. I have no idea what is keeping you from getting here, but I swear, if you don’t find us soon, when I get out of here—Never mind. I’m just… We need to get out of here, and you have to find a way to find us because I don’t know where I am or how to get out of here, and Kilbourne has Clayton. Please, Larabee. We need your help. Now.”
She ended the call and shook her head. What was she going to do now? Hide here in the office until she heard back? No, that was not going to work. She looked at the desk. No computer. What was the point of this? She checked the phone again. It didn’t have any internet access that she could see. Great. She supposed she was lucky that she’d gotten the call out, but still, there had to be something else she could do.
She nearly jumped when the phone went off in her hands. She looked at the number. It wasn’t one she knew—and apparently not one the owner of the phone knew, either. Oh, what the hell. She answered it. “Hello?”
“Larabee. Where the hell are you? What happened?”
“The van got trashed. They must have known what we had planned. They bombed us after they took you.”
“Lost a couple people. What about you?”
“Clayton got noble and told Kilbourne to take him so I could escape, but I keep getting lost in this building, and they’re going to find me eventually. I don’t know—well, I assume he’s in the lab, but I don’t know anymore than that. Can you trace this phone, maybe? Is—is it going to be possible to get anyone here to help, or are we on our own? If we are, then… see if you can find anything on this building—a blue print, maybe, and send it to me as a picture? I can find Clay and get him out, possibly, but I need to know where the hell to go.”
“I don’t know. We’re regrouping, so I can’t promise anything. And my equipment got wrecked, too, so I’m behind and—”
“Larabee! I cannot afford to be patient here! I need you to give me what you can as soon as you can. Kilbourne has Clayton. He was talking about changing the twenty minute rule, and you know what that does to Clay when he doesn’t follow it! And then he says Clay’s just going to help him fix the flaws and he’ll make the next one better.”
“Well, I doubt he’s got the right materials for that considering that everything was confiscated from him and having to be on the run and everything, so we don’t have to worry about that right now—”
“I’m on it. I just need a few minutes, and I’ll get something going, I promise. Just one thing…”
“I get to make the baby a little superhero outfit, right?”