Altered: A Dystopian Sci-Fi Adventure (Rogue Spark Book 1)

by Cameron Coral

  “Look, we still have each other’s backs, okay?” I examined the tablet which revealed a map of the area. “Let’s get to the target. That’s step one. Then, we’ll figure out what to do.”

  Rik and Cecile nodded and huddled around me to study the screen. “Looks like we head that way, toward a mountain.”

  “Hope it’s a small one,” said Cecile with a smirk.

  “Ditto that.” Rik relaxed his shoulders.

  We trekked for an hour. The countdown had resumed in the upper corner of the screen. We had just under two hours remaining to complete our mission.

  We passed the time by sharing our experiences in the prison. I tested them for information. “Did you see anything strange?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Cecile.

  “I dunno. Like maybe they injected you with something and it moved inside you?”

  “Jesus. No, nothing like that,” said Rik.

  “Yeah, it must have been a bad dream. A bad trip from the drugs.” I kept my mouth shut after that, not wanting them to think anything was wrong with me. Maybe the creatures inside me were a onetime thing. Maybe they were all dead now. As we journeyed, I felt the pocket knife resting in the middle of my bra. I didn’t mention it. I probably wouldn’t need it, anyway.

  Rik and Cecile had been through hell too. I trusted them. We were in this together.

  Another message came through on the tablet. The same military man appeared as a hologram.

  “Recruits, the game has changed. Whoever makes the kill will advance to group training. The winner gets to live with other recruits.”

  My stomach clenched. Only one of us?

  “The other two will return to solitary confinement. Also, the deadline is now 0500. Miss it and you all fail.”

  Eighteen

  We trekked faster, rifles hoisted on our backs as panic set in. Our new timeline was a noose tightening around our necks.

  “What are we going to do?” Cecile asked in a high-pitched voice.

  “We stick to the plan,” Rik said. “I take out the target.”

  “Why do you get to be the one?” she asked.

  He halted, and we all stopped. “Because that’s what we agreed. Remember?”

  “I don’t want to go back to that cell.” Cecile bent over, out of breath.

  “Neither do I.” I locked eyes on Rik and crossed my arms.

  “Thought you two had a problem with killing.”

  I shrugged, despite the knot in my stomach.

  “But the rules have changed,” he said. “So, we do the only fair thing. We draw straws. Try to find some thin sticks.”

  We scrounged a few scraggly twigs. I revealed my pocket knife and used it to whittle the reeds down to varying sizes. Then Rik grasped them in his round fist and offered them to Cecile and me.

  I motioned for her to go first. She drew a long one. Then I chose. Rik exposed his straw and grinned at me. “Tag, you’re it.”

  I felt a lump in my throat as I realized I would have to end someone’s life. Doing so would free me of my prison cell. But could I shoot a person?

  Cecile sat on a boulder with hunched shoulders. Rik kicked up dust, sending swirling clouds into the early morning air.

  “Let’s go. We don’t have time for this,” I muttered as I resumed our path toward the mountain.

  I handed the tablet to Cecile. Not only the best shooter among us, she was also a strong navigator and the most experienced with outdoor survival. I’d never been on a hike, much less camped. Rik, dirt poor like me, had worked and fended for himself in the city from an early age. He and I were out of our element in this vast desert.

  Had Cecile or Rik ever killed someone? I doubted it, though Cecile had probably taken down animals judging by her gun expertise.

  The thought of escaping my prison cell propelled my tired feet, but a thought gnawed at me. If I completed the mission, I’d be free, but Cecile and Rik would be stuck. Were they pissed? We’d all shaken hands, agreed to leave it to chance. But still I would’ve been devastated at the grim prospect of being caged in the tiny cell again and subjected to Kenmore’s experiments. Would I be free of him after this?

  He’ll keep torturing them. And many others. Joanie’s voice nagged me, Think of something.

  My chest felt heavy. I gulped and let the words loose before I could reconsider. “Maybe there’s a way we all come out of this.”

  Rik shook his head. “They’re too smart for that. You saw the guy—he’s like military or some shit.”

  Cecile nodded and marched in silence.

  “After I take out the target, we hold on to our guns and form a circle, our backs against each other. Anyone who comes near us gets shot.”

  “They have drones, air cruisers. Probably an army of guards,” Rik said. “Don’t kid yourself. They could drop a bomb or a grenade on us. Do you really want to see what they’re capable of?”

  “Do you really want to go on living in that cell?” I halted, and Rik faced me, eyes narrowed.

  Cecile stepped forward. “None of us die.” She glared at us, hands on her hips. “We do what they say. Follow their goddamn orders. That’s how we survive.”

  “Agreed.” Rik stared at me. “Ida?”

  I bit my tongue, trying to block the flood of curse words I wanted to scream at them. Then Cecile stomped over and got in my face. “Don’t risk all our lives for your stupid hero act. You think you’re so tough, but underneath it all, you’re just as scared as us.”

  I paced away, fists clenched.

  She was right.

  Nineteen

  The mountain turned out to be a steep, craggy hill. It didn’t take the three of us long to scale it and reach the summit. The tablet buzzed with instructions. The mark would be located at the bottom of the valley on the other side. From here on, we had to be stealthy. Should we be discovered, the target might fire upon us.

  “What the hell?” I whispered to Rik as we stretched out on our bellies, shimmying forward through dirt and brush. “The target has a weapon?”

  “I told you they’re smart, and this is a test. Don’t screw up.” He smirked. “I mean, good luck.”

  Cecile clapped me on the shoulder. “You can do it, Ida. We’ve got your back.”

  We reached the crest and peered down at the valley below. Out in the open, next to a small tree, was an armored truck like the one that had transported us. A figure leaned against the side of the hood—a man, judging by the frame. He wore military fatigues, with a cap shielding his face from our vantage point.

  “The target,” Rik said.

  “No shit, Sherlock,” I muttered.

  Cecile stifled a giggle. Rik and I both stared at her. “Sorry, I laugh when I get nervous.”

  The tablet buzzed with a message: Target acquired.

  “Remember what I showed you,” Cecile said. “Set your sight in the scope, calm your breathing, and ready the trigger. Squeeze real gentle when you’re sure it’s time to fire.”

  “Right.” I raised the rifle to my shoulder and steadied it. My sweaty fingers trembled, and I realized my breath was shallow. I inhaled, then exhaled firmly through pursed lips. Calm down, girl. I studied the traitor through the scope. He rubbed his hands together briskly in the cool morning air then stooped to rummage through a bag on the ground.

  “Can you get a look at him?” Cecile asked.

  “No.” I didn’t take my gaze off him. “He turned away. What do you think he did, anyway? To be considered a traitor?”

  Rik sighed. “Who cares? Just shoot him so this can be over and you graduate. I’m hungry. The one thing we can count on is that they feed us. Once, I even got a candy bar.”

  My pulse quickened, and I set the rifle down. “What did you say? Someone gave you a candy bar?”

  “Yeah. It was awesome. The first time the guard came into my cell, I tried to overcome him. I was scared. Anyway, another guard came in and stung me with a baton. Later, someone slid a chocolate bar under my tray. I figured it
was on account of them having to zap me like that.”

  “Another guard? Did you get a look at him? Find out his name?”

  “No. Everything happened so fast, and when I got stunned, my body went rigid. I couldn’t move for a while. They threw me face down on my bed and left.”

  “Why? What’s up, Ida?” asked Cecile.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. Just curious about the candy bar thing. Something similar happened to me.”

  “Did they stun you?” Rik said.

  I nodded.

  “There you go.”

  Still, a thought nagged at me. Why would the guards or Kenmore show kindness? Or were the candy bars an attempt to manipulate us?

  “Hey, not to be a total bummer,” interrupted Cecile, “but the time reads 0450. Time to take the shot, Ida.”

  I raised the gun and lined up my right eye to the sight. As I surveyed the target again, I searched for threats. A rifle stood propped against the truck within his reach. If I shot and missed, he’d take cover and return fire. I couldn’t let that happen; the whole mission would fail.

  “0451.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Rik whined.

  “Yeah, yeah. Just lining up the shot.” I trained the crosshairs high on the man’s back. The bullet would pierce him from behind and exit his chest. He’d die right away. No pain. Or so I hoped.

  I steadied my rifle and feathered the trigger. Then I second-guessed myself. Should I go for the head? That would be the cleanest shot. The surest way to kill immediately. But if I missed the smaller target…

  “The clock is ticking,” Cecile reminded me.

  Through my scope, I saw that the man’s legs were slightly bent, his hand around his front. Then he hopped a little, and I realized he’d been taking a leak.

  He turned, and I glimpsed his profile.

  The target was Peterson.

  Twenty

  I flinched and pulled my finger from the trigger. Why him?

  “What’s happening?” Rik shifted and slid closer. “Can you take the shot or not?”

  “0453,” said Cecile.

  I stared at the dirt. “He… he’s my guard.”

  “So?” he said. “All the better to shoot him. He’s one of the guys keeping you prisoner.”

  “Why? Why do they want us to assassinate someone who works here—a guard?”

  “They called him a traitor,” said Cecile. “Maybe he did something bad.”

  “He… he tried to help me.”

  “Our mission is to kill him. He’s our target. Nobody else is here. He must be the one.” Rik peered down the hill.

  The tablet rested in front of Cecile. I could see giant red digits counting down.

  Rik grunted and wiped sweat from his forehead. “If we don’t do it, nobody gets to advance. We all go back to the cells and they’ll punish us. If you can’t do it… Cecile and I draw straws.”

  My stomach turned. “I don’t want to go back either.” I racked my brain for a solution. “Maybe he can help us escape? He’s a guard. He would know how to get out, right?”

  “0556. This is bullshit.” Rik pulled out the straws, discarding one. He shuffled and then offered first draw to Cecile.

  “Please,” I said. “Don’t shoot him. He doesn’t even know we’re here. How can you kill him in cold blood?”

  “One of us is graduating today,” said Rik.

  Cecile glanced at me with watery eyes. “I wish I could help you, Ida, but I want out. Living in that cell is killing me.”

  My mouth went dry. They refused to help me. I couldn’t change their minds.

  But neither could I stand by and watch them kill Peterson. He wouldn’t know what hit him. If it were me, I’d at least want a fighting chance. A warning.

  Rik drew the short straw. “Hot damn.” He snapped his fingers and reached for his rifle.

  “Rik, no…” I gripped his shoulder. “He was nice. Gave me a candy bar. Peterson doesn’t deserve to die.”

  “He’s a guard at this hellhole. The man deserves to die.” Rik took aim.

  I scrambled to my feet, sending up a cloud of dust. “Peterson!” I screamed. I kicked sand into Rik’s face, causing him to sputter and rub his eyes. Then I ran down the hill toward the valley, but the rocks shifted beneath my feet and I lost my footing. I slipped about a meter, struggling to regain my balance and stay upright. “Run, Peterson!” I gained my balanced and jogged down the slope.

  Peterson's head reared back as he spotted me stumbling down the rocky terrain. “Run, take cover!” I bellowed. Next to the truck, he flinched and bent his legs. He scanned the hill and gripped the hood. Run, you idiot!

  Something large and heavy crashed into me from behind. A force sent me rolling, cascading painfully over rock and scrub. Rik’s face contorted as we tumbled down the slope, out of control. As we descended in a clumsy frenzy, he grabbed me and punched my shoulder.

  From the top of the ridge, a booming shot like thunder rang out and echoed across the canyon. Cecile.

  Wrestling with Rik, I crashed to a stop at the bottom just in time to see Peterson stagger and crumple to the ground.

  Twenty-One

  “You bitch!” Rik launched his body at me. I was bruised and disoriented from the fall, but his lunge was clumsy and unsteady. I dodged out of his way and landed a sharp front kick to the small of his back. He crashed to the ground, then rolled over, panting. His left foot twisted at an odd angle. “That was my shot, and you ruined it. Sand in my face? What are you, ten?”

  Rik was right to be pissed, but I couldn’t let Peterson die without warning. I didn’t regret my actions at all. I sprinted over to Peterson. His wide, glassy eyes stared at the sky. I crouched down beside him, touched his hairy arm. Still warm. My hand traveled to his wrist where I searched for a pulse. It throbbed faintly, but it was there.

  He coughed, saliva bubbling from his lips.

  “Peterson?” Blood from his chest wound seeped onto the dirt beneath him. “Hey, I’m sorry this happened.”

  His gaze fixed on me; he blinked and moved his lips.

  “Don’t talk.” All I could do was comfort him in his final moments. Did he have family? Would anyone miss him?

  I glanced over my shoulder. Cecile had traveled down the hill with our rifles and attended to Rik. She’d shot a man—a stranger. Did she care? As I stared at her, she lifted her chin and gave a nod. I knew what she was. A survivor. I’d encountered girls on the street like her. Meek and delicate on the outside, but steeled nerves inside. She would do what it took to survive.

  I hoped I never saw her again.

  Turning back to Peterson, I wondered why they wanted him dead. Had I caused this? He’d given me the knife. Somehow, Kenmore must have known and doled out his sick and twisted punishment. Murder by the inmates he’d guarded.

  I didn’t care that Peterson wasn’t entirely human—that he was part wolf. I laid my cheek against his chest, wishing to comfort him in his final moments. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling the faintest tingle in my shoulders.

  In the distance, a whirring sound interrupted the still air. Kenmore’s drones, and what I assumed was his army, cruised through the early morning sky, on their way.

  The prickling sensation grew and spread into my arms. I thought of the mouse and how my skin had felt when I cradled the dead creature in my palms. Like this… Could I touch Peterson and help his body heal?

  Ridiculous.

  A shiver washed over me, coursing through my limbs. I pushed Peterson’s arm aside and leaned over him. “Stay with me.”

  He blinked again.

  Examining my forearms, I saw the things crawling under my skin. What had Kenmore called them? Nanobots. Whatever they were, their energy pulsated inside me. Like a flooded stream about to burst, they wanted me to act. The creatures propelled my hands to Peterson’s chest and took control of my fingers, maneuvering them to tear apart the cloth shirt and expose the wound.

  Then my palms covered the hole in
his rib cage, and my eyelids fluttered shut. Darkness surrounded me. The energy of a thousand tiny lights lifted me, weaving and bobbing, between blood and cells. I became one of those lights, and I jumped—if that was the right word for it—into Peterson’s body. Fused with the other nanos, I repaired the damage near his heart when the bullet had ripped through his skin and exited his back. The bots soared through the insides of his cell walls and welded torn tissue. I felt a part of something bigger. As the miniaturized beings fixed broken ligaments and torn flesh, something emerged—a presence—Peterson's life force.

  The lights sped up as if in a frenzy and I was outside him once again. Sweat dripped down my face; I was burning up. Then, my eyes flew open, and the episode had ended. Exhausted and shaky, I crouched above Peterson, my hands poised on his chest looking like I’d done CPR. Pulling away, I checked for a pulse, which now beat steadily against my fingers.

  He blinked several times and tears rolled out from the corners of his eyes. His coughing had ceased.

  “Peterson?” I used the sleeve of my jacket to wipe blood from his mouth.

  “What… happened?” He shifted his neck, tried to look around. I helped him sit up, still feeling elevated from his energy. He was alive. A miracle.

  I swiveled my head and saw Cecile and Rik lingering behind me, staring open-mouthed. I clambered to my feet and faced them. “How much of that did you see?”

  They backed away a step. Cecile clutched her rifle but didn’t aim it. Rik tightened his grasp on the other two guns at his side. I stood, shielding Peterson from them, not wanting them to finish the mission.

  The drones had arrived and surrounded us, recording events as they unfolded, and transmitting footage to the watchers. How much had they filmed?

  As we stood facing off, a torrent of dust swept through the area. We covered our faces and watched as an air cruiser descended from the sky. The pilot maneuvered the thrusters and landed the craft. Two men in riot gear emerged and grabbed Cecile and Rik, shoving them inside. One man approached me, his gun aimed at me.