The Sunshine in My Veins (Peterick) ➳ Book 1

Eighteen

"Change of plans. Activate the Killjoys," the voice on the other end of the line said.

"What?" Ryan asked slightly panicked. "Now?"

"Yes. Things aren't going well here and we can't risk being found."

"But the tests!"

"We can do them later, but now we need to get out of here."

"Okay," Ryan huffed. "I'll get them ready."

He quickly ran down the hall as the voice on the other end gave him instructions on how to activate the robots correctly.

"I got it," Ryan snapped. "Just calm down."

Things like this had been drilled into Ryan's mind long before the Arkkarredians invasion took place. He of all people had been trusted by the royals themselves and worked side by side with the adored prince. Because of this he knew codes and sequences from suicide to blowing up the planet.

"Then get on it."

With a click, the line went dead leaving Ryan fuming. Nothing was going as planed. And it fucking sucked.

Angrily, he wandered down the hall towards the control room, absentmindedly thinking of Brendon. But Brendon was gone and now was not the time to think abut him. There'd be plenty of time to hunt him down later.

With a tap of the screen the image of four frozen figures glowed to life. Ryan leaned forward and carefully pressed the letters and numbers for the required password, watching as the robots shuddered to life. Once the Killjoys were activated and waiting for orders, Ryan switched on the intercom and sighed. "Subjects 001 and 002 are to be retrieved and brought here immediately as safely as possible. Any serious injuries inflicted will be dealt with accordingly," he added in a threatening tone. "And if subject 003 is spotted, do bring him home. That's all."

*

"No one cares, Dallon," Brendon whined as Dallon attempted to scope out a place to stay. "There's no one here anyway."

"Seriously, Brandon, shut up."

"It's Brendon."

"I don't care."

"Boys," Halsey said in a warning tone. "Brendon's right, Dallon. We haven't seen anyone in ages so pick a fucking house because I'm going to and you aren't allowed in. And Brendon, leave him alone."

The two watched in awe as Halsey marched towards the nearest door and kicked it open. She didn't even bother to check for occupants and instead strolled right through and slammed the door shut.

"Well it's apparent we're not wanted," Brendon muttered.

"Because of you no doubt."

Brendon went to make a snide comment but Dallon's smirk and chuckle caused him to let out a laugh as well.

"Then let's show her what she's missing, yeah?"

They decided on the house across the street in order to maintain their group status while giving Halsey her time away from them. Brendon settled on a recliner chair, eating the Cheerios he found the other day while Dallon stretched out on the sofa.

"I've always found tall guys hot," Brendon said nonchalantly after swallowing a mouthful of Cheerios.

"Nice to know."

"Rude ones are hot too."

"Are you implying something?"

"No."

"I find liars to be a pain in my ass."

"You can be a pain in mine," Brendon said with a wink.

Dallon shook his head and closed his eyes. "Get some sleep, Bren."

*

Pete was right. Sex the second time around was much better than the first time. Patrick wasn't as sore nor was he as tired. But he was still dozing in and out of sleep waiting for Pete to come back.

Faintly, Patrick wondered what he was doing because it seemed like Pete was getting more reckless and careless as the days went on. Never had Patrick considered leaving, but he found the thought creeping into his mind more often than it ever had before. Pete knows what he's doing, Patrick reasoned in his mind, and I trust him.

A large clap of thunder shook the infrastructure of the house, signalling the approach of a large storm. Now Pete would have to come back and cuddle with him. That though made Patrick smile. However, as the first few drops of rain splattered across the window Patrick had a feeling Pete wasn't going to be coming back. So he slipped out of bed and began fumbling around for his clothes.

Once dressed, Patrick gathered up his backpack and the stunner gun Pete had left him before leaving a short note for Pete just in case he did come back.

Sore but determined, Patrick tugged on the hood of his jacket and hurried out into the storm. Where would Pete have gone? Patrick wondered. Did he say something about food? Or supplies? Patrick was somewhat foggy after sex so Pete could've said anything and Patrick would've been pressed to remember.

The rain was slowly soaking him to the core, making him wish he hadn't gone outside. Then it hit him: Pete was probably camping out somewhere, letting the worse of the storm pass. "Of course," Patrick muttered to himself. "Fucking idiot."

Now wasn't the time to go dashing through the rain; he was cold, wet, and sore. Patrick stumbled up the steps of a quant, cottage-y looking bakery and all but threw himself inside. The bell on the door gave a halfhearted ring as he did so, and almost instinctively he raised his head as if to say hello to the people working. But then he realised that unless a miracle could see them through there wouldn't be another small bakery with cheery workers in some off the grid town that no one knew the name of.

The realisation hit him harder than he thought it would and he found himself having to take a seat. He chose one in the corner, off to the side where he could see but not be seen. And maybe it was fate that had so intricately placed that habit in him or some higher order that could foresee the days of doom. Whatever it was Patrick would never know. As the door opened again he almost stood up, almost let himself be seen. But the figures looming in the shadows behind Pete didn't seem like the friendly type.