The Rain (Part III of the Runner Series)

Chapter 34

"These are human beings, not your earnings!" A high blush stains the young doctor's throat. "And Babel was our home long before it was yours."

A deafening silence rocks the lab, the aftershock practically enough to wake the few remaining Brutes.

"You small-minded twit." I rasp. "You're screwing with things you don't understand."

"I understand the difference between right and wrong."

I stare at Henley, struggling to recall where I've heard those words before. It's not until one of my officers speaks up that I snap out my my stupor.

"What would you have us do with them, Mistress?" One of the soldiers asks, indicating the captured with a solid kick.

"Just get them out of my sight." I shake my head in disgust, turning away so that I can begin taking stock of the damage done to the labs.

Henley releases a grunt of pain as he and the other prisoners are yanked to their feet and dragged down the corridor.

"Some hero!" He shouts. "Your brainless followers might worship the earth you walk on but we know the truth!"

I whirl around, fury blinding me once more. Holding up a hand to stop the officers I walk calmly across the room, my footsteps cutting a brisk rhythm against the tiled floor. Halting when I am nose to nose with Henley I take a moment to consider how his shoulders heave up and down beneath his rumpled white coat.

"Pray tell," I ask. "What truth is that?"

"That you're a monster," His voice shakes but holds strong. "A liar and a hypocrite. You used your own propaganda in order to steal Babel from the people who built it. Your soldiers were tricked into believing that they were following a freedom fighter and now they're left guarding a laboratory full of prisoners." He swallows. "The Madam might not have been a saint but at least she didn't pretend to be something she wasn't. You, on the other hand have become everything that the Runner was supposed to stand against."

His words rain down upon me, causing my scars to itch and my skin to crawl.

Drumming a finger against my chin, I draw from the red and pretend to mull him over. "Your issue isn't with my tactics, it's with my target." He blinks and I allow a sly grin to escape. "I may have used tricks in order to get where I am, but they were the same tricks you praised when I was using them against your oppressors."

Henley's eyes slide away, his jaw clenching.

"Heroes and monsters," I mock. "Good and evil, right and wrong. There was a time I believed the world was such a simple place, too." Memories of palace ballrooms and open rooftops nearly distract me. "But I was wrong. There are no heroes and there are no monsters; they're one in the same. All that separates them is time and the will to succeed." I tilt my head so that Henley is forced to look at me. "And at this moment, you and your friends are standing in the way of my success."

He flinches. The medicinal sting of the air hangs heavy with only the occasional drip of black poison to break the deathly silence.

"You understand that I need to make an example of you, don't you?" My question is low, meant only for Henley. "I have to. Otherwise this lot," I gesture over his shoulder at the officers holding him in place. "They'll start getting ideas."

A spark of fear shows in the doctor's eyes as I step back, raising my voice so that the others can hear.

"My condolences on the abysmal failure of your first rebellion." I stretch my arms wide as I continue walking backwards. "I'm sure that if things had gone differently, that you would have made an excellent hero and maybe one day not long after, an unforgettable villain."