Page 82 of Alpha Chained
Callum gives a curt nod, and I bristle slightly at the implication that I need a babysitter. But I keep my mouth shut, knowing time is of the essence.
“Let’s move,” I growl, already turning on my heel and retracing my steps back toward the cell block.
Callum keeps pace beside me, his body tense and alert as we hurry through the empty corridors. Gage brings up the rear, keeping an eye out for more Enclave guards.
When we reach the cell block, I quickly locate the control panel and enter the override code I’ve managed to memorize while watching the daily comings and goings. The heavy metal doors groan open, and I’m immediately assaulted by a cacophony of sounds – snarls, whimpers, the rattle of chains.
“Shit…” Callum mutters, surveying the rows of cages lining the walls. Some hold human forms; others are occupied by all manner of beasts – everything from panthers to grizzly bears.
I don’t waste any time. Striding over to the nearest cell, I grab the lock and yank with all my strength until it shatters. The terrified face of a young woman stares back at me as the door swings open.
“Get out of here,” I bark at her. “Head for the exit!”
She scrambles out without a word, disappearing down the corridor. I move on to the next cell as Callum starts working on the others. Within minutes, a steady stream of figures is rushing past us – some human, some shifted into their animal forms.
Gage herds them along, barking out orders at any stragglers to keep them moving. I can hear shouts and the blaring of alarms echoing from somewhere deeper in the facility.
We’re running out of time.
Once the last cell is empty, I turn to Callum. “I’m gonna blow this place. Get everyone topside.”
“Blow this place?” He frowns. “How the fuck are you planning to do that?”
“It’s wired to self-destruct in case it’s compromised.” I glance around, feeling a dark, satisfied smile form. “Which I’m guessing it is right now. I just need to get to the security controls. The sequence has to be initiated there.”
He eyes me warily but doesn’t argue. “Just don’t get yourself killed,” he grunts before pivoting and hurrying after the others.
I watch as they leave, then head back down the hallway. It doesn’t take me long to reach the security room. I frown at the sight that greets me. The door is wide open, and there’s a trail of empty boxes and scattered paper on the floor. Somebody left the place in a mess, but I don’t have time to give it any thought right now.
Stepping through the clutter, I make my way over to the bank of monitors lining one wall. Some of the screens are dark, but many still flicker with images from the security cameras around the facility.
A heavy metal console sits in the corner of the room, covered in a dizzying array of switches, buttons, and blinking lights. I approach it cautiously, wracking my brain to recall the bits and pieces of information I’d overheard from the guards over the years about the facility’s failsafe protocols.
There was always talk of a self-destruct mechanism designed to eliminate any evidence should the Enclave ever be under attack. I’d half suspected it was just empty bravado on Parker’s part. But now, seeing that control panel in front of me, I know it’s very real.
My gaze flits over the various toggles until I land on a large red switch protected by a heavy plastic cover.
That has to be it.
Gripping the edges of the casing, I yank it free, exposing the switch beneath.
I pause for a split second, my finger hovering over the toggle as I take a deep breath. There’s no going back after this. Once I initiate the self-destruct sequence, this whole place is going up in flames.
I need to do this. If Parker and his men regroup, they’ll just come after us again. And next time, they might not fail.
Steeling myself, I flip the switch.
A deafening klaxon blares to life, and red warning lights begin flashing all around me. On the monitors, I can see people scrambling in panic as a computerized voice drones out.
“Warning. Self-destruct sequence initiated. This facility will be destroyed in five minutes.”
My heart is pounding in my chest as I turn away from the console. I need to get the hell out of here before-
Movement on one of the screens catches my eye, and I whirl back around. There, plain as day, is the smug, infuriating image of Franklin Parker himself. He’s hurrying down a corridor, clutching a briefcase to his chest.
Rage boils up inside me at the sight of him. That bastard thinks he can just slip away unscathed after everything he’s done?
I don’t fucking think so.