It didn't take long for the others to leap into the tunnel behind them. Trace returned her focus to the path ahead of her, gripping Rose's hand in her own and dragging them both through the darkness, their path only visible by the light of her torch.
She could hear their footsteps echoing off the tunnel walls around them, getting louder with every step, gaining on them. It reminded her of the tricks that had been played on her the last time she'd been in one of these tunnels.
Only, this time, she was the one being chased.
"You can only run for so long, traitor!" Ben yelled, the echo distorting his voice and bouncing his words back to her, returning them to her over and over again.
Trace didn't reply; she only ran faster.
"We know these tunnels like the back of our hands, girlies!" another voice shouted. It sounded like Boulder, but Trace couldn't be sure. "You're as good as dead already!"
They were getting closer. Trace could hear their breathing now. She felt chills run down the back of her neck as she realised the truth behind their words; Rose and Trace were heavily disadvantaged- a fact that would likely kill them.
So Trace had to do something else. Running wasn't going to work. Not when they knew the tunnels so well and were just as fit as she was. She had to do something else.
She wanted to punch herself in the face just for thinking of this idea:
But she had to hide.
As they neared a corridor branching off the one they were travelling through, Trace flicked off her torch and pulled Rose into it with her, trying to move as quietly as possible.
Immediately, she found another corridor and darted into it, hiding around another corner. Rose understood what they were doing and remained as quiet as possible. Trace would have to thank her later.
The second they'd found their hiding spot, a dim light seeped into the first tunnel as the others flicked their torches on. Trace held her breath and sensed Rose do the same. She reached inside her pack and pulled out one of the kitchen knives they'd taken from Rose's house. She pulled Rose's hand across and handed it to her. Then she reached back and pulled out a second one for herself. If they were going to be caught, she wouldn't let them be empty-handed.
"Hiding won't do you any good, girlies!" Boulder yelled.
Ben laughed. "Silly, silly, silly girls," he said. "It's time to do what I should have done the first time."
Ben sounded strange. More so than usual. He sounded manic. It was in that moment that the realisation set in. That sinking feeling she'd felt when reading the fates of so many characters.
Ben was a control. He wasn't immune; Ben had the Flare.
As much as she despised Ben right now, the thought just made her angry. She hated the idea of having controls in an experiment like this, and discovering yet another was enough to send her blood boiling over the whole concept yet again.
The light was getting brighter, and Trace knew it was only a matter of time before they were found. They were going to have to fight. They'd have to kill. She gripped the knife as tightly as she could and stepped a little closer to the corner. Rose followed silently.
She saw the torch first, the arm followed after. It was Ben.
Trace leapt forward, tackling him to the ground, pinning him there. The torch flew from his hand and bounced across the floor. Thankfully, it landed in a convenient position, pointed towards them, illuminating their little situation like a scene in a play.
Without that light, Trace wouldn't have seen Boulder charging towards her from a few feet away. She wouldn't have seen Rose dive to him, knife in hand. She wouldn't have seen his eyes widen in surprise, not having seen her coming.
Trace wouldn't have seen the knife make contact with his throat, penetrating through, making him splutter, cough, gurgle as blood spurted from the entry point.
Boulder collapsed to the floor, clasping his neck as if he might save himself, losing strength by the second. He tried to speak, but failed, unable to to much more than grunt in pain.
Then he fell limp, unconscious.
Boulder was dead.
Rose had killed him.
Trace couldn't hold back her shock. She stared at Rose with wide eyes.
"Holy sh-"
Her exclamation was interrupted by Ben's fist to her jaw as he wriggled it from her grasp, taking advantage of the distraction. She pinned it down again, cursing at her own stupidity. Though, she supposed, she did get the punch in the face she'd wanted earlier for thinking of this stupid idea in the first place.
"You stupid girl!" Ben screamed, spitting up at her, squirming violently. "You're supposed to die! That's all you were meant for! If you don't die now, it's only a matter of time! You're gone!" His face was turning red with the effort it took for him to struggle against her. "Gone! Gone! Gone!"
"No, Ben," Trace replied, smirking a little. "You're gone. Goodbye."
She pulled her knife back and struck once, slicing across his neck. The effect was immediate; blood spurted up, splashing across her face and chest. She moved away out of instinct.
And within seconds, Ben was dead too.
The remaining three gang members rounded the corner, their torch lights bouncing across the walls, making this look like a really sad party with the world's most dismal strobe lights. The men hesitated, probably due to the fact that Rose and Trace were now standing over the body of one huge, bulky man, and another fit young boy. Two young girls had killed two of their gang members.
Trace felt pretty dangerous.
She and Rose took the opportunity to charge at the dumbfounded men. Rose's knife immediately met Machete's chest, driving in. Trace's own blade found Lightning's collarbone, so she tried again, driving it deep into his neck, just the way Rose had with Boulder. Both men collapsed, dying almost instantly.
Trace really wanted to high-five Rose, but decided that now probably wasn't the best time for that. Or the best reason. It probably wasn't very moral to high-five murder.
The two girls went straight for the boss, who'd turned to run away. Trace dove down, grabbing one of his ankles and knocking him to the floor. He kicked her hard in the face in an attempt to escape. Trace was quite offended by that, but she maintained her firm grip, not about to let this man get away.
Rose did the rest, using her newly-discovered ruthless killing abilities to, well, ruthlessly kill the man. He died the same way as both Boulder and Lightning. Apparently a stab to the neck was their preferred method of killing today.
"Sorry for your loss, Boss," Trace murmured. "Don't be cross."
Rose sat down hard and let out a loud sigh of relief. Trace just panted unevenly, taking in the chaos around them; seven bodies: two alive, five dead.
They'd done it. They'd killed a whole gang. Just the two of them.
And Flint, Trace reflected. He was responsible for all this. He was the real reason that they were still alive. They owed him that. He'd saved them.
And now the people who killed him were dead. Trace and Rose had fought back. They'd avenged him. The Silencers were officially dead; The Cake Crew was alive.
For now.
Because they still had a long way to go. Underground. In the dark. In a Crank-ridden, gang-infested city that they knew practically nothing about.
The worst was far from over.
YOU ARE READING
Subject A250: The Flame (COMPLETED)
Fanfiction--Book two in the Subject A250 series-- She took the Grievers down. She survived the maze. She knows the story is far from over. So, how will she fare in the Scorch?
