Page 84 of Red Zone Awakened

CHAPTER33

Mace climbed backout onto the ledge of the sixty-seventh floor.This time, there was no spotlight to blind him—and no Keiko beside him, an omission that made his gut clench.He’d been receiving updates from his bat and knew she was bound and gagged, kneeling on the platform, waiting for death.According to the bat, she’d volunteered for death.His bat thought her noble.Mace thought he was going to smack her backside until she couldn’t sit down for doing something that dumb.

Save mate, the bat said for about the millionth time.

Apparently, the flying rodent thought he needed regular reminders to keep him on track.

I know she’s tiny, but she isn’t a bat.She’s a woman.You need to take your horny ass over to Waugh Bridge and pick up a female bat.And, for the record, bats don’t mate for life.They’re horndogs.

At least, he didn’t think they did.He should probably do some research on bats, seeing as he was stuck with one.And, yeah, it’d taken him three years to accept that the furball wasn’t going to fly away and let him get on with his new life.

We mate for life,the bat said smugly.It’s a part of our new mixed genetics.

There’s no way you understand what any of that means.You have a brain the size of a peanut.

I have your brain.And you have mine.We’re a unit.I am no longer just a bat.You are no longer just a human.

Mace hated that the flying rat made sense.He’d spent three years in denial, pretending his genetics hadn’t changed, ignoring his other half as best he could.Now he wondered if his lack of acceptance was why his animal was so difficult to control.

Striker’s diamondback doesn’t talk as well as you, and he’s been talking for longer.

According to Striker, the animal spoke broken English; unless it was cursing Striker—then it had an extensive vocabulary.

The bat shrugged in his mind.I’m smarter.I’ve been in your head for a long time.I learn much.

Great.He’d landed the Einstein of bats.What’s going on now?

There was a pause as Mace made his way as fast as possible along the ledge.In the distance, he could see a line of yellow on the horizon, signaling sunrise was heading their way.

An image of Keiko bound and gagged filled his mind, and he almost stumbled.

The small man is crying and begging.He is distressing our mate.I need to make him stop.

No,Mace said as an image of Rueben Granger wailing beside Keiko entered his head.Keep your distance.What the bat thought he could do to shut the man up, Mace didn’t know.You need to remain safe so you can look after our mate.I need your eyes for this plan to work.

Save mate,the bat agreed solemnly.

Mace slowed his steps as he rounded the corner onto the ledge above the terrace.It looked like a battle zone.Furniture had been overturned, people were huddled together in the center of the patio area, and there were dead bodies scattered everywhere.In the middle of it all, on the stage, knelt Keiko—right next to the body of her friend.

Mace’s heart clenched at the sight.She’d been hurt.Bruised.But her chin was up, and she was staring at the Freedom fighters.She was a queen, dressed in torn and borrowed clothes.They’d fastened her hands behind her, and a silencer covered her mouth.Around her head was an EMP band—one she’d placed there herself, according to his bat.

Mace clenched his teeth so hard his jaw hurt.He hated that she was positioned beside the bodies of people she’d worked with.People she’d cared about.He hated that she was fodder for the press assembled in front of her.Sure, they were terrified, afraid Freedom would turn on them next, but he’d still bet everything he owned they were making mental notes about Keiko for when they were freed.They’d write about how she’d been brought low by Freedom.How her usual immaculate style had been replaced by torn and borrowed clothes that didn’t fit properly.They’d describe in detail how she’d knelt before her captors, silenced and cowed.

Only, she wasn’t cowed.She was glaring at her captors.Silently challenging them.

“That’s my girl,” Mace whispered to the wind.

Our girl.Our mate.

For once, Mace agreed.He dragged his eyes from Keiko and studied the terrace, looking for a way down onto it.It was easy enough to find.The pergolas offering shade for the workers were close enough to the walls to allow him to jump onto them and clamber down the wooden structures to the terrace below.He’d get to Keiko within seconds.Unless the jump forced a damaged rib into his lung.He shook his head, dismissing the thought.His first priority—his only priority—was to get that EMP band off her head.

Who has the detonator?he asked his other half.

The evil one.

I need a bit more information, buddy.

There was silence, and he realized it was the first time he’d used a friendly name for his other half.Guess the rat was finally growing on him.