Chapter 486: Tommy in action [1]

"This is the time."

Tommy stood in the darkness across from the house where Emily was being kept, his gaze fixed on the entrance as his fingers tightened around the handles of the handcart beside him. There were barely thirty minutes left before midnight, which meant he had thirty minutes to free Emily, reach Mei and Keith, and get all of them to the shoreline where Ryan, Rachel, and Lucy should already be waiting in the boat.

It was not much time, but that was exactly why the plan had to happen quickly. The moment anyone noticed that Emily was gone, that the guards were no longer watching the house properly, or that Mei and Keith were missing from their rooms, Brigantine would become impossible to escape. There would be guards in every street, boats searched near the shore, and Callighan’s people looking for them before they even had a chance to cross the water.

Tommy had spent too long waiting for a perfect opportunity. There was no perfect opportunity in Brigantine. There was only a moment when the guards were distracted, when nobody important was watching, and when the chance of surviving was slightly better than the chance of being caught.

Tonight was that moment.

He watched the two guards outside Emily’s house from the shadows. They sat beneath a dim light near the entrance, their weapons close at hand, though neither of them looked alert anymore. One had already slumped forward in his chair, his head hanging low as though he had simply fallen asleep during his shift. The other was still trying to stay awake, rubbing his eyes repeatedly and blinking hard as if he could force away the heavy exhaustion settling over him.

Tommy knew the drinks had started working.

He had prepared them earlier and made sure the guards drank enough without giving them any reason to think something was wrong. It had been risky, but not as risky as confronting them directly. He did not want to kill anyone. Not if he could avoid it.

When the second guard’s head finally fell back against the chair and his eyes shut completely, Tommy let out the breath he had been holding.

Then he stepped out from the shadows.

He pushed the handcart forward at an ordinary pace, forcing himself not to look hurried. Inside the cart was a large wooden box filled with bottles, with another layer of bottles resting beneath an old cloth. From a distance, it looked like he was delivering alcohol somewhere in Brigantine, which was normal enough that most people would not give it a second thought.

That was the hope, anyway.

His heartbeat grew louder as he passed the unconscious guards, but he did not look directly at them. He did not stop to check whether they were breathing. He did not give himself time to wonder what would happen if one of them woke up before he got Emily out.

He simply pushed the cart to the side of the house and left it there before slipping through the entrance.

The inside of the building was dark and smelled stale, a mixture of damp wood, old food, sweat, and medicine. It was not really a home anymore. It was a holding place. Somewhere people left Emily because they did not know what else to do with her.

Tommy paused just inside the doorway and listened carefully.

No voices.

No footsteps.

Nothing from upstairs.

He checked the rooms anyway, moving through the ground floor quickly but cautiously. The old living room was empty. The kitchen was empty too, except for a few dirty cups and a bottle left on the table. One of the doors near the hallway was locked, but Tommy knew it only led to storage.

Nobody else was inside.

At least, nobody he could find.

He moved toward the basement door.

For a moment, he stood with his hand on the handle, unable to move.

He knew what waited below.

He had seen Emily there too many times.

Each time, he told himself he would get her out somehow. Each time, he walked away because the timing was wrong, because there were guards nearby, because Callighan’s people were watching, because he did not have a boat, because Mei and Keith were still locked away.

There had always been a reason to wait.

Not tonight.

Tommy opened the door and descended the stairs.

The basement was nearly pitch-black. He turned on his torchlight, keeping the beam pointed down until he reached the last step. Then he lifted it carefully.

Emily was lying against the far wall.

The sight still made his chest hurt.

Her wrists and ankles were held by Starakian anti-Symbiote shackles, thick restraints attached to chains that were fixed into the wall and the floor. The technology was unfamiliar, but its purpose was obvious. The restraints were made to keep Symbiote Hosts from fighting back, weakening their bodies whenever they tried to use too much power.

Emily looked pale beneath the dim beam of the torchlight.

Her white hair fell around her shoulders and across the floor. Her green eyes were half-open, but there was almost nothing in them. She had been drugged again, kept weak enough that she could not panic, could not lose control, and could not summon the strength to break free.

That was how they handled her.

They did not treat her like a person.

They treated her like a dangerous object they needed to store.

Tommy swallowed hard and approached slowly.

"Emily," he said quietly. "It’s me."

Her eyes shifted toward him.

For a second, there was no sign that she recognized him. Then something changed. Not much, but enough. Her gaze focused a little more. Her fingers twitched weakly against the restraints.

Tommy raised one hand.

"Don’t worry. I’m getting you out."

He wanted to believe she understood.

He wanted to think that somewhere beneath the drugs, fear, and exhaustion, Emily knew he had come back for her.

But as he drew closer, the Symbiote inside her reacted.

Her body tensed suddenly.

The chains rattled against the wall.

Emily’s eyes widened, and for one moment Tommy thought she might fight back.

He moved before she could.

"I’m sorry," he whispered.

The syringe had been hidden behind his back.

Emily saw the movement too late.

Tommy held her down as gently as he could, keeping her from hurting herself against the restraints, and pressed the sedative into her neck. Emily struggled weakly at first, her hands pulling against the chains, but she was already too exhausted to resist for long.

"I’m sorry," Tommy said again, his voice breaking despite himself. "I’m sorry, Emily."

Her breathing slowly became shallower.

Her body relaxed against him.

Then her eyes closed.

Tommy caught her carefully as she fell forward.

For a moment, he did not move.

He held her close, his face tightening as guilt rose in his chest.

He hated that he had to do this.

He hated that getting her out required another needle, another drug, another moment where she could not even understand what was happening.

But he could not carry her through Brigantine if she woke up confused and lost control. He could not risk her Symbiote reacting when guards were nearby.

"I’m getting you out of here," he said quietly.

Then he began removing the restraints.

The anti-Symbiote shackles were cold beneath his fingers. He worked quickly, unlocking the restraints around her wrists first, then her ankles. Every time a chain hit the floor, Tommy froze and listened for movement upstairs, terrified that the sound had carried through the house.

Nothing happened.

The guards outside remained unconscious.

No one came down the stairs.

Eventually, the last shackle opened.

Emily was free.

Tommy lifted her into his arms.

She was lighter than she should have been.

That thought hurt more than he expected.

He carried her upstairs, moving as fast as he could while trying not to make any noise. At the top, he paused near the entrance and listened again. The house remained silent. Outside, the guards had not moved.

Tommy carried Emily to the handcart.

First, he removed the large wooden box of bottles and placed it on the ground beside the wall. Then he lowered Emily carefully into the empty space beneath the wooden plank he had prepared earlier. The cart was large enough to hide her, but only barely. Emily had always had a slender figure, and the months in Brigantine had left her thinner, but seeing her curled inside the space still made Tommy feel sick.

He covered her with the thick cloth.

Then he placed the plank across the top, leaving enough room for air to reach her.

After that, he returned the box and bottles above the plank, arranging them so the cart looked exactly as it had before. From the outside, there was nothing strange about it. Just alcohol. Just supplies being moved through Brigantine.

Tommy checked the cover one final time.

Then he gripped the handles.

His heart was pounding as he began pushing the cart down the road.

He kept his expression neutral.

Not hurried.

Not nervous.

Normal.

That was all he had to look.

Several men passed by him as he made his way through the streets. One glanced at the bottles but did not stop. Another barely even looked at Tommy, too busy talking with someone beside him.

Tommy kept walking.

Every second felt longer than the last.

Then a voice came from behind him.

"You sure look like you’re in a hurry."

Tommy’s whole body went cold.

He stopped moving.

Slowly, he turned his head.

Audrey stood behind him.

Her eyes moved from Tommy’s face to the handcart.

"Audrey," Tommy said, forcing a smile. "What’s up?"

Audrey stepped closer.

"What is that?"

Tommy gestured toward the cart.

"Don’t you see?"

Audrey glared at him.

"I’m not blind."

Tommy clicked his tongue, trying to sound annoyed instead of terrified.

"We’re having a card game with Gaspar."

Audrey’s face twisted with disgust.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

He pointed toward the bottles.

"Drinks. That’s all."

Audrey snorted.

"Fuck Gaspar."

Then she looked back at Tommy.

"And fuck you too."

She reached into the cart, grabbed two bottles, and tucked them beneath one arm.

"Don’t be noisy," she said. "And don’t waste all the alcohol on those idiots."

Tommy nodded quickly.

"Wouldn’t dream of it."

Audrey did not wait for another answer.

She turned around and walked away, disappearing down the road with the bottles in her hands.

Tommy remained still for several seconds after she was gone.

His hands were shaking around the cart’s handles.

It felt like his soul had left his body and only just returned.

He forced himself to take a few slow breaths.

"Do not panic. Not now...." He whispered.

Then he tightened his grip and began moving again.

His destination was the house where Mei and Keith were being kept.