Captive (The Blackcoat Rebellion 2)

She nodded and tucked her dark hair behind her ears. Nervously she stepped inside, and one by one, the others followed. Several of the adults stopped to pick weapons from the racks lining the walls of the workshop, and I noticed that Rivers hadn’t joined us.

“We don’t have much time before the reinforcements come,” I said to Benjy as we stood together, watching everyone filter into the tunnel. They seemed to be moving as slowly as humanly possible, and I gritted my teeth impatiently. “If they attack Mercer Manor—”

“We have to trust that the Blackcoats will hold them off,” said Benjy. The baby had fallen asleep in the crook of his arm, and the little boy he held sucked his thumb as he stared at me with wide brown eyes. “There’s nothing more you can do, Kitty.”

“Yes, there is.” I clutched the gun in my good hand. “If anyone comes—”

“You’re not holding off an entire army with ten bullets and a bad shoulder,” he said, and he raised his voice. “Everyone, hurry up—we don’t have much time.”

The adults rushed the children through the tunnel, and at last the final group disappeared into the darkness. I looked at Benjy. “You first. I’ll bring up the rear.”

“Kitty—”

“I only have ten bullets, but that’s ten more than you.”

He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a curse, but he ducked into the tunnel, the concrete ceiling a few inches too short for his tall frame. Tucking the gun into my pocket, I pulled the door shut behind me.

We were far enough away from the front of the group that the light from the flashlight didn’t reach us. I groped around, wishing I’d thought to look for another one, when suddenly the tunnel shuddered, and a booming thud rattled me from the inside out.

Several children burst into tears, including the toddler in Benjy’s arms. He soothed the little boy as much as possible, but his shrill screams pounded against my temple, making white lights dance in front of me.

“You’re okay—you’re okay,” murmured Benjy, and as my eyes adjusted, I saw him rocking both baby and toddler with each step he took. “Everything’s all right, I promise.”

But it wasn’t all right. The deeper we went into the tunnel, the more the walls around us shook. Once we reached the end of the concrete, clumps of dirt dislodged with each new tremble, and my throat began to close. Benjy was right—we were all okay. We just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Suddenly a weak shadow appeared in front of me, and I stopped. The light bent around a curve in the tunnel we’d just passed, and it swayed in time with the shuffle of footsteps.

Without making a sound, I started back, slipping my gun from my pocket. If someone was following us, it would only be a matter of time before they caught up, and I was the group’s last defense. I’d already sent enough people to their deaths today. No one else was dying on my watch, not if I had anything to say about it.

“Kitty!” Benjy’s voice echoed back down the tunnel toward me, and I heard his footsteps mingle with the distant shuffle. “What are you doing?”

“There’s someone back there,” I whispered. “Go—catch up to the others. I’ll be right behind you.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he said, but even as he spoke, the baby in his arms whimpered.

“Yes, you are. I can’t protect all three of you, and they won’t make it without you,” I said. “Please, Benjy.”

“I’ll get one of the others to carry them,” he said, and his voice hitched. “If we hurry, we can catch them and—”

“And whoever’s following us will only get closer,” I said. “Please, Benjy. Go.”

Even in the low light, I could see the desperation in his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss me. “I swear, if you get yourself killed—”

“I won’t,” I said. “Not if I don’t have to worry about you.”

The baby in his arms began to cry again, and he winced. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too,” I said. “Now get out of here.”

He took one last long look at me before finally hurrying to catch up to the others. As his footsteps faded, I crouched in the darkness, my palms growing sweaty as I waited.

The light grew stronger until the narrow beam reflected off the wall beside me, leaving me in shadows. Something crackled, and a man’s voice murmured, “I hear something. Investigating now.”

I tensed. A guard. I flattened myself against the wall as he came around the curve, and as soon as he appeared, I pointed the barrel of my gun at him, my finger resting on the trigger.

He didn’t look much older than me—twenty at the most, with light brown hair and a narrow face with a gash running down his cheek. He wore a guard uniform—a dead giveaway, now that I knew Blackcoats like Rivers were wearing prisoner jumpsuits—and he limped through the tunnel, while his right arm was in a proper sling I would have killed for.

This was my chance.

He stopped suddenly when I came into view, and his eyes widened as he raised his good hand. “Don’t shoot, please—”

“Call them back,” I said. “Whoever you just spoke to—tell them you’re wrong. There’s no one else down here.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he slowly reached for the communication device on his shoulder. “Never mind, it was just a rat. All clear down here.”