Chapter 906
He drifted around a corner, pushing toward the bridge.
“We have a tail.” Skye looked back. Two black motorcycles were closing in fast, their riders armed with submachine guns.
“Take the wheel,” Alistair unbuckled his seatbelt.
“What?”
“Take the wheel!”
Skye grabbed the steering wheel as Alistair leaned out the window. He fired his handgun with terrifying precision. One motorcyclist went down, sliding across the pavement in a shower of sparks. The second returned fire. The side mirror exploded. Alistair dropped back inside.
“Drive! Get us to the bridge!”
Skye floored it. The engine roared.
𝖶e 𝘂р𝖽a𝘁e 𝘦v𝖾𝗿у 𝘄𝗲𝘦𝘬 о𝘯 𝗴a𝘭n𝘰𝗏e𝘭s.𝘤𝘰𝘮
They hit the bridge — and found a roadblock. Two trucks sat blocking the road.
“We’re trapped,” Skye said.
“Not yet.” Alistair looked at her. “Do you trust me?”
“Always.”
“Aim for the gap between the trucks. And don’t brake.”
Skye gritted her teeth. She lined up the narrow opening and accelerated.
The mercenaries on the trucks opened fire. The windshield cracked. Skye screamed and drove straight through the hail of bullets.
CRASH.
They smashed through the gap in a shriek of scraping metal and flying sparks, bursting out the other side.
“We made it!” Skye gasped.
Then a helicopter rose from beneath the bridge, hovering dangerously low. A man with a minigun sat braced in the open door.
“Oh god,” Skye whispered.
The minigun spun up.
A black sports car shot out from the on-ramp, engine roaring like a wounded animal. It didn’t aim for the helicopter. It aimed for the fuel tanker parked on the bridge — the one supplying the mercenaries’ blockade. The car drifted hard, slamming into the tanker’s valve. The driver bailed out a split second before impact.
BOOM.
The explosion was massive. The shockwave knocked the low-flying helicopter sideways. The pilot panicked, clipping a bridge cable, and the bird spun out of control before plummeting into the water below.
Skye slammed on the brakes as debris rained down around them.
The driver of the sports car rolled to a stop on the asphalt. He pushed himself upright, swaying.
It was Liam Kensington. Blood ran freely from a gash on his head.
He found Skye’s SUV with his eyes. He gave a thumbs up.
Then he collapsed.
“Liam!” Skye threw the car into park and jumped out, sprinting toward him. Alistair was right behind her.
She dropped to her knees at his side. “Liam! Liam, wake up!”
He opened his eyes. “Did… did you keep the gems safe?”
“Yes,” Skye said, her voice breaking. “You idiot! You could have—”
“Had to balance the ledger,” Liam wheezed. “Casualties… happen.”
His eyes closed. He went still.
Skye looked up at Alistair.
“Help me get him in the car,” Alistair said, his voice quiet. “He’s not the enemy, Skye. He never was.”
They lifted Liam into the back seat. As they drove away and left the burning bridge behind, Skye held his hand.
The war wasn’t over. Celeste was still out there. The Architect was coming.