Chapter Twenty

"Lukas?" Tino asked, bewildered as Mathias grabbed the blonde's shoulder, keeping him from chasing after his brother. Lukas was struggling against Mathias's strong grip, which tightened until his shoulder began to bruise, but he didn't feel anything.

"Let go of me, you big moron!" he shouted, tearing at the other teenager's hand. "That's my brother; he's right there! Emil!" His last word was directed down the hallway towards the gaggle of medics.

People were staring at the three of them, confused, and one person stepped out of the crowd to demand, "Tino, what's happening? Who are these people?" It was Natalia, her expression cold but shocked at the same time, especially after witnessing the entire event. But Tino didn't answer – he couldn't, and she harrumphed, scowling at him despite the quivering of her bottom lip and trembling fingers before she turned to the two teenagers.

"We came here to find my brother and he's RIGHT. THERE!" Mathias had circled around Lukas to act as a barrier, and the smaller blonde was shouting and punching and writhing, trying to get past him. "My brother is dying! Emil! Get out of the way!"

"Lukas, stop it!" Mathias pleaded. "Calm down! We can't do anything like this!"

"Who are you?" Natalia interfered, cold blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're not from around here." It was a clear observation.

The sudden realization that their cover had been blown temporarily distracted Lukas, and he spun around to face the girl. There was a moment of silence.

"I like your hair band," Mathias piped up timidly. "The bow is very pretty."

She stared at him, her glare piercing, her chin lifted proudly as if to tell him 'of course' and 'shut up' at the same time. But then she blinked, and her eyes widened into an expression of shock and recognition. "You're… You're Mathias Køhler. The Viking."

Mathias also blinked. "I don't know about Vikings, but yes, that's me. Can you read minds?"

"You should be dead," Natalia whispered. "You should've been dead for two years already." There was something strange about the way she said those words, like she was horrified, but had suspected it all along. There was venom in her voice as well, as vicious as a starving beast contained in an icy cage. Her blue eyes were shards of unforgiving ice, blizzards swirling and choking and freezing the life from its victims. She took one small step forward, then another, fingers twitching towards her belt.

But Mathias was quicker, and suddenly, something cold and condemning was pressed against Tino's temple, and Mathias's arm was choking him, pulling him into the position of a hostage. Lukas's gun was in his hands too, pointing towards Natalia. She froze, but not for long. When she moved again, it wasn't towards Mathias, but towards Lukas, and suddenly there was a dagger in one hand, a gun in the other, her movements so smooth and sudden that he recognized immediately that Natalia was not actually a scientist. She was an assassin.

"Natalia, th't's 'nough f'r now."

It was a deep, heavily accented voice that wasn't very loud but sounded intimidating nevertheless. The crowd parted, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man in a lab coat. His face was a blank mask of neutrality, blue eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses narrowed into a permanent glare. Lukas felt a shudder run up his spine when the doctor's intimidating gaze scanned him like a well-oiled machine, then turn to the other two people. With his eyes staring at Tino, he asked Mathias, "What're you doing h're?"

"We're looking for my brother," Lukas answered.

The scientist's gaze shifted to him, and his reply was slow. "I wasn't speak'ng t'you."

"Now you are." He lifted his chin in a show of defiance. "Give me back my brother."

"He's not h're."

"I just saw him; he's here."

"Yer mistak'n; he's not."

"Yes, he is."

"No, he's not."

"Yes, he is."

"No, he's not."

"Yes, he-"

"Hey, you! Doctor!" Lukas had never been so glad for Mathias's lack of patience. The taller teen waved his gun around before readjusting the aim back towards Tino's temple. "What is your name?"

Lukas frowned lightly. It was an irrelevant question.

But then he watched as something resembling shock and confusion flash past the man's otherwise blank face, and a strange feeling suddenly arose in his stomach. "M' name's B'rwald Ox'nstierna."

Mathias's mocking grin disappeared; Lukas tightened his hold on his gun. So this was Doctor B. Oxenstierna, the recipient of a certain package that happened to be Lukas's brother. For some reason, he had been expecting more of a mad scientist look, not a big, towering giant with about as much emotions as a rock, not like Lukas was in the position to complain about that.

"Yer M'thias Køhl'r."

Mathias raised his chin, attempting to look down at the scientist. "Yes, that'd be me." Then he frowned. "How do all of you guys know?"

Something flickered in Oxenstierna's eyes, and Natalia rolled her eyes, scoffing quietly beneath her breath. "You're a traitor. Anyone who bothers to keep up with the news knows that."

There it was again: traitor. It was obvious now that Mathias had a connection with the Underworld, a long time ago, a connection he had forgotten, but others had remembered. Every time Lukas heard the word directed at the other teenager, he felt a strange kind of rage mixed with grief burning inside of him, because it was such an ugly word to call someone, but he had no idea what happened that made people believe it was a fitting title for Mathias. He was afraid that if he found out, he would hate him as much as everyone else.

Lukas glanced briefly at Mathias, whose face was utterly blank, then to Tino, whose purplish eyes were wide and nervous, his fingers grappling Mathias's arm, but strangely relaxed at the same time, as if he trusted him. His lips were moving discreetly, whispering softly a message to Mathias.

In that half a second of distraction, the assassin struck.

She moved like a rising storm: it was upon you before you knew it. Her dagger was suddenly under Lukas's chin, ready to slice his throat open, and her gun was aimed without her needing to look, finger already pressing the trigger to splatter Mathias's brain onto the metal halls.

A shot cracked through the air, but it was Natalia who shrieked in pain. The gun clattered to the ground, the blade disappeared from Lukas's throat as she stumbled back a step and pressed her hand against her other forearm, where a bullet had torn a line through her flesh before digging a hole into the wall behind her, the blood staining the pristine white coat of her disguise.

Mathias's gun was smoking, and he released a breath of relief when he saw that he hadn't missed. And then, his arm loosened, pushing Tino away from him, and the two teenagers bolted.

Shouts rose behind them, echoing and vibrating along the thin walls. Doors and hallways shot past them in a blur, the many twists and crooks quickly hiding them from the pursuing scientists and guards.

"Follow the numbers," Mathias called between gasps of breath. "There are fifty rooms in all." The two teenagers slowed down enough when they passed by another door to see the number. Room 11.

The next was Room 13.

Well, just great.

"At least we know we're on the right track," Mathias pointed out cheerfully.

The voices behind them were rapidly increasing in volume.

"Run!" Lukas hissed, and the two of them took off once more, except this time in a slightly slower pace so that they could keep track of the room numbers.

19, 23, 29, 31… The numbers seemed random, but it was increasing, and they sped up a little when a gunshot cracked through the air behind them, their pursuers not yet losing spirit. They were on the right-

28, 26-

Crap.

They backpedaled quickly and changed coarse. 38, 42, 43…

Lukas was panting, breath misting in the air, and he was growing uncomfortably hot in the lab coat despite the near-freezing temperature of the lab. His muscles strained and protested, his heart pumped desperately. They skidded around another curve-

And there it was. The door at the end of the hallway – that had to be the exit. They didn't care about the numbers anymore, they just dashed towards the unassuming metal door that looked completely the same as all the others they had passed, but was very possible their savior.

There was a whisper of footsteps behind them, and suddenly, Mathias barraged into Lukas, knocking him against the wall. His broken hand – still tightly wrapped – throbbed as it connected with the hard surface. Mathias yelped as a dagger sliced a shallow, narrow line across his cheek before embedding into the wall, quivering slightly.

Natalia moved surprisingly fast for someone in dress pants and high heels, not to mention the stiff lab coat she had yet to abandon. One sleeve was bloody and torn, strips of cloth wrapped around her minor injury that didn't seem to affect her at all, judging by the precision she had thrown the dagger with.

Lukas shot up to his feet, grabbing the back of Mathias's shirt and hauling him up as well. The hallway was straight: there was no place to hide.

There was a gun in Natalia's hands.

The first bullet whizzed past their ears, drilling a hole into the door they were reaching for.

The next wasn't even aimed towards them, but the metal handle of the door shattered one second before Mathias reached for it. Cursing, he slammed into the door, putting in all his weight, and it rattled on its hinges. Lukas had grabbed the broken doorknob, ignoring the metal cutting into his hand, desperately twisting it.

He didn't even feel the third gunshot until pain erupted from his calf and his left leg collapsed, his knees cracking onto the tiled floors. Abandoning the broken handle, Mathias taking over it instead, Lukas raised the gun he had hastily stuffed into his pocket, aimed sloppily, and fired.

Natalia didn't even flinch; the bullet missed completely.

Well, that was that. His arm felt numb from the recoil, but then another gun fired – behind him. Mathias was firing at the doorknob, breaking it completely. Natalia bared her teeth, stepping forward, but Lukas forced his trembling arm to fire again, this time towards the assassin's feet. It nicked the ground in front of her, not touching her, but stopping her for a second.

The firing behind him stopped. Mathias gave a small sound of triumph, and Lukas felt a rush of warm air as Mathias yanked open the door – now with a hole where the lock used to be. Much to Lukas's annoyance, the taller teenager swept him up in his arms like a damsel in distress and – didn't start running.

Instead, he faced Natalia, who had her gun raised and ready, but not yet pressing the trigger.

"Hey, you," he called, and the girl lifted her chin, pointing her nose high into the air with a haughty expression to show that she was listening. "Would you happen to be related to Ivan Braginsky?"

Before the question could register in Lukas's pain-addled mind, Mathias had turned and began running up the stairs.

What?

The girl's face reflected the same question that popped up in Lukas's head, her eyebrows furrowed, her stance slack.

Then the tattered door concealing the way back to the living world swung shut, and for a moment, they were running in warm, dry darkness. The nerves on his left leg were numb with pain: he could barely feel the injury anymore. Mathias was panting heavily as he hurried up the long flights of stairs, each breath hot and wet against Lukas's neck; his back and hair was soaked with sweat, and he smelled terrible. Lukas knew he wasn't much better, but he just had to tell the other boy, "You stink."

Mathias just threw back his head and barked out a breathless laugh. Lukas allowed a small smile to grace his lips as well, before a jostle from Mathias sent a throb of dull pain shooting up his leg, and he grimaced as he remembered that a bullet had cut his leg, and part of the warmth came from his own blood, not the surrounding air. Small drops splattered onto the metal stairs and he suddenly remembered.

Blood was everywhere.

Last time, the blood hadn't actually looked like blood; it was too dark, already drying, and that made the smears of crimson on the wall seem more black than red. But this time, the blood was fresh, and it glistened in the dead white lights. It was beautiful in the most hideous way: staining, spreading, dying, leaving, as if no one depended on it, as if it was free.

Lukas remembered the screaming, how it had sounded bestial and guttural as his parents choked on their own blood as it bubbled past their lips, coughing, gagging, suffocated by their own life – just like Emil.

Emil was dying.

Emil was dead.

But just like before, Lukas couldn't bring himself to reach past the numb curtain so he could mourn or weep. It was times like these, he realized, that he truly couldn't feel anything.

Hi! As I've mentioned, this is a relatively uneventful chapter: just one action dragged out for a very long time into a chapter of decent size. Wish you enjoyed it anyway, and please review! Exams are coming up and I'll need it. Thank you!