“Yes,” Duanphen replied. “Einar’s tricks do not work forever.”
They made their way through the prison’s ground level, coming across a few guns discarded on the floor where the guards dropped them in their fear. The way down to the basement cells was completely clear, every gate and door already unlocked.
“They’ve been this way,” Caleb said. “Must have found the warden.”
“Yes,” Duanphen agreed. “They—”
They got lucky that the first gunshot struck a chain-link divider and ricocheted away, otherwise Duanphen and Caleb wouldn’t have had a chance to duck low and run as the guards opened fire. Duanphen was right—Einar’s emotional manipulation didn’t last long. A dozen La Caldera grunts had already regrouped. Or maybe these were the ones from the armory. It didn’t matter. They were shooting.
The two of them flung themselves downstairs, towards the cellblocks. Caleb made a couple of duplicates to try to slow down their pursuers, but they were gunned down before they could do anything. Luckily, there were tight corners down in the cells, providing cover, letting them get ahead. Although, if Caleb correctly remembered the blueprints, they were quickly going to run out of hallways to hide in.
“Prison,” said a voice. “Do me a favor and electrocute anyone carrying a gun.”
Caleb skidded to a stop in front of the speaker. A groggy-looking guy wearing a pair of taped-together glasses. His voice sounded tinny. Almost mechanical.
Sam Goode.
Shouts of pain went up from behind Caleb and Duanphen as the prison’s electrified floor activated beneath the guards giving chase. “Fall back!” Caleb heard one of them shout. “They’re in the system! Someone get to the control room and override these floors!”
“That’s the thing about high-tech prisons,” Sam said staggering forward and rubbing his arm where an IV tube had just been removed. “They’re really easy to talk to.”
“Nice job, baby,” Six said. She emerged from one of the cells, flexing her fingers, clearly itching for a fight. “You bought us some time.”
“There will be more coming,” Sam said with a sigh. “There are always more guards in places like these.” Finally, his eyes flicked to Caleb and Duanphen. “Ah. Here’s some more of our rescuers.”
“Caleb, right?” Six said.
“Uh, yes, ma’am,” Caleb replied, never missing an opportunity to be intensely awkward in front of a girl he didn’t know.
“Ma’am, shit, did you get hit in the head or something?” Six looked at Duanphen. “And you are?”
“Duanphen,” she replied, then leaned her shoulder against the wall, holding her arm where some of her stitches had popped loose. Caleb had forgotten how hurt she was. Hell, until that moment, when he nearly collapsed in front of Sam and Six, he hadn’t realized how exhausted he was himself. His muscles were sore, his cells vibrating, his ears ringing. It had been a day.
“You’re hurt,” Six said, looking at Duanphen. She glanced over her shoulder. “There’s a healer, I think. Daniela! Bring the healer!” Six turned again to peer down the corridor. “We might want her to put a wall up until we can figure out an escape route,” she said thoughtfully.
“You’ve got a ship, right?” Sam asked Caleb.
“Crashed it,” Caleb responded. “Your dad was hoping we’d find you. We figure Earth Garde turned on you because of what you could do to their Inhibitors.”
Sam touched his temple. “Yeah. They chipped all of us. Kept me unconscious most of the time so I couldn’t mess with them. But I took care of them as soon as I was woken up and got free.”
“Where are the others?” Six asked. “Einar said you were here with Five and Ran.”
Caleb eyed her. She’d said that so casually. Six must have picked up on the weird look Caleb gave her, because her eyebrows furrowed.
“Huh. I am weirdly okay being rescued by Five and that terrorist kid who actually seemed nice,” she said.
“You talked to him? Einar?” Caleb asked.
“Yeah,” Sam answered for the both of them, then looked at Six. “You called me baby a second ago.”
“Ugh. I did? I did.” Six shook her head. “What is wrong with me? I feel super upbeat, even though this is a total cluster.”
“Einar must have used his Legacy on you. It’ll wear off soon,” Caleb said. “Where did he go?”
Six shrugged breezily. “I’m not even mad about it.” She pointed over her shoulder. “He went that way. Looking for someone. Told us to get the prisoners sorted out.”
Caleb started in that direction, then remembered Six had asked him a question. “Oh. Five and Ran teleported out accidentally.” He held up the remaining Loric pendant. “This yours?”
Six took the amulet from him. “Nice. Thank you. That’s our ticket out of here.”
Daniela led a huddled group of Garde around the corner. With the exception of Vincent, most of them were complete strangers to Caleb. They all wore the same tan jumpsuit and all looked like they were close to starving to death.
“Oh, damn, you are here!” Daniela shouted, greeting Caleb by throwing her arms around his neck. “Einar said you were. Thanks for busting us loose, my dude.”
Caleb was happy to see Daniela, of course, but he couldn’t shake the way that she spoke about Einar. It was the same tone that Six used. Like Einar was their old buddy.
He’d made them like him. That way, none of the other Garde would ask questions or get in his way while Einar dealt with Lucas.
They had never actually come to a decision about Lucas. If the bit of news they’d seen was any indication, the body snatcher was in possession of John Smith. He could be doing untold damage at that very moment. Caleb knew they had to get Lucas back into his own body. What to do with him after that? Caleb wasn’t sure.
But he knew he didn’t want Einar making that decision on his own.
“I’m going to go check on the others,” Caleb said. He glanced at Duanphen. “You good?”
She nodded. Vincent stood nervously before her and started to heal her wounds.
“Hurry back so I can teleport everyone out of here,” Six told him, holding up her pendant. “And tell Einar I said hi.”
Caleb jogged down the corridor in the direction Einar had gone. After rounding a couple bends, he found Lucas’s cell. Caleb could tell because the warden’s unconscious body was crumpled outside the door alongside the body of an out-of-place woman oddly dressed like a suburban mom. That must have been Lucas’s Cêpan. Caleb supposed it was a good sign that those two were still alive. Maybe Einar had learned restraint.
Did he want him restrained, though? What should be done about a Garde like Lucas? Exhausted, Caleb knuckled his forehead and kept a duplicate from popping loose. He wasn’t in the mood to debate ethics with one of his clones.
Before Caleb could get any closer, Isabela exited the cell. Alone. She shut the door behind her and used the warden’s glove—she wore that now, the real thing—to lock it. She jumped when she realized Caleb was there, then smiled faintly and walked towards him.
“Please,” she said, “can we get the hell out of this place?”
Caleb craned his neck to look past her. “What’s happening? Where’s Einar?”
Isabela put her hands on Caleb’s chest and gently pushed him back a step, away from the cell.
“Leave it alone,” she said.
Caleb squinted at her, trying to discern if she was under some emotional manipulation. Her eyes were as sharp as ever, though.
“It’s over, Caleb,” Isabela said. “No one is coming out of that cell.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
HUMAN GARDE ACADEMY
NEW LORIEN
LA CALDERA
THE END
EVERYONE STOPPED FIGHTING WHEN JOHN SMITH descended on the center of campus. Peacekeepers and Garde alike, none of them knew what to do when the most powerful being on the planet landed in their midst. He gave off a vivid white glow—John’s Lumen Legacy—emanating fro
m his head and shoulders, creating a sort of halo effect. The troubled boy in control of John’s body thought this looked cool.
The silver object that John cradled in his arms gave everyone pause. The thing looked like a giant bullet and, in a way, it was. Down the coast, at Pfeiffer Beach, the military had the missiles on hand just in case the Mogadorian warship went on the attack. Even though the warhead bore the yellow-and-black nuclear warning, it wouldn’t be powerful enough to cause a large-scale fallout event. It would only destroy, say, two city blocks.
Not that Lucas knew any of that when he dumped the weapon in the grass with a thump, causing the nearest Peacekeepers to scuttle backwards. All Lucas knew was that he could make the thing explode. Which was perfect for what he had planned.
While the others focused on John’s glow or his bomb, Taylor zeroed in on the bloodstains splattered across his shirt. Her hands shook.
“Kopano,” Taylor whispered, hiding behind the door of the training center. “What—what did he do to Kopano?”
Nigel squeezed her shoulder. “He’s a survivor. I’m sure—I’m sure he’s fine.”
But Nigel didn’t sound sure. Taylor clutched the necklace Kopano had given her and tried to focus on the battle ahead.
It hadn’t taken long for them to put things together once Miki described what happened at the Osiris. John’s sudden turn towards the dark side. Isabela’s warning about the body snatcher. It all made horrifying sense.
“Why did you stop?” John’s words carried across campus as he addressed the staring Peacekeepers. “Get these animals in line!” When none of the soldiers immediately responded, John dramatically rolled his eyes. “Sheesh. I gotta do everything, huh?”
John’s eyes flicked to the nearest Garde—Lisbette—and he waved his arm in her direction. A wall of fire exploded from John and rolled towards her, quickly evaporating the wall of ice Lisbette summoned to protect herself. The raw power of the fire, all unfocused fury, enveloped a couple of Peacekeepers, too. Other Peacekeepers rushed forward and tackled Lisbette, not to take her into custody, but to pat out the flames burning her clothes.
“STOP THIS!” a voice boomed over a megaphone. “STOP THIS AT ONCE!”
Later, when Taylor had a chance to think, she almost admired Greger Karlsson for his courage. At some point, once the Peacekeepers started winning, he’d made his way closer to the battlefield, dressed in a set of ill-fitting armor borrowed from one of his soldiers. Now, he stood twenty yards from John Smith and stomped his foot, trying his best to look authoritative.
“You aren’t authorized to bring that body into combat!” Greger shouted. “The situation here is under control. You’re to return to base at once so that we can install an Inhibitor in Number Four.” He glanced at the dormant warhead and swallowed hard. “Those are your orders! Not this madness!”
John paused to consider this. A crooked smile spread across his lips.
“There’s an exodus happening right under your nose, little man,” John said. “Don’t you see that? Don’t you know what’s at stake?”
“I gave you an order!” Greger screamed back. “You are—!”
“No,” John said simply. His eyes flashed silver.
Taylor gasped as the silver beam struck Greger in the forehead and turned his head to stone. His body swayed for a moment, his face forever frozen in a mask of fear, and then toppled over. Before cutting off the stone-gaze, John swept the beam across a number of other Peacekeepers.
“Oops,” he said.
The stillness after John’s arrival finally broke. People on the quad ran in every direction—the Peacekeepers fleeing for their encampment, the Garde sprinting towards the buildings that contained Loralite stones. A few of the braver Peacekeepers attempted to hit John with tranquilizer darts, but those were deflected by telekinesis and their shooters quickly flattened by the same force.
“RETREAT!” Nigel bellowed from the training center’s doorway, his voice carrying across campus. “GET OUT!”
A lightning bolt scorched the earth at Nigel’s feet and sent him flying backwards, where Nicolas just managed to catch him. The sky had clouded over suddenly with dark, ominous clouds. More lightning snapped down from the heavens, shearing through buildings and setting the grass on fire, shattering windows.
“This place is a monument to corruption!” John shouted, his arms spread wide, commanding the storm. “It cannot be allowed to stand!”
He stomped his foot.
The ground began to shake mightily. An earthquake rumbled through the Academy. Behind Taylor and the others, the elaborate obstacle course began to creak dangerously. Across the way, the dormitory wiggled impossibly, an entire building swaying on its foundation.
“John Smith holds back, you know?” John said—or the boy controlling John said—as he flattened a fleeing tweeb with a blast of telekinesis. “He doesn’t want to scare y’all with what he can do. He doesn’t know how beautiful it could all b—”
A metal fist clocked John in the jaw and knocked him off balance. For a moment, the tremors stopped and the sky began to clear.
“All right, you motherfucker,” Nine said, squaring up with John. “Get off my campus.”
In the training center, Taylor ran to Nigel. He twitched and coughed as Nic set him on the ground, smoke rising off his singed denim vest.
“I’m good, I’m good,” Nigel said, swatting their hands away and trying to stand up. “We have to help Nine.”
“No,” Taylor replied swiftly. “No. You have to make sure everyone gets out. Teleport to New Lorien. Wait for as many of our people as you can. But don’t wait too long. You have to destroy the Loralite there, Nigel. You can’t let him follow us.”
“He can just fly there,” Miki said. “He can fly fast.”
Taylor pointed out the door, to where the force field generator was getting pelted by hailstones. “He can’t fly through that,” she said, hoping it was true. “Get it to New Lorien. Lexa and Malcolm will figure out how to hook it up. We just have to buy time and stay ahead of him. Isabela and the others are searching for this body snatcher. They’ll come through.”
Miki grabbed Nicolas. “You’re strong, right? Help me get the generator.”
At a nod from Taylor, Nicolas barreled into the gathering storm to grab the machinery. Meanwhile, Taylor sensed movement behind her. She turned in time to see Lofton, with Melanie in his arms, reach for the Loralite stone.
“Uh, sorry, but I don’t want to die,” Lofton said, right before he teleported somewhere else. Washington, probably.
“Wanker,” Nigel muttered.
With Nine distracting John, the earthquake had subsided somewhat, but the damage was done. A beam came loose from the ceiling and crashed through the obstacle course. The building wouldn’t be standing much longer.
“You need to go,” Taylor said to Nigel. “Go.”
“What about you?” Nigel asked. “What are you doing?”
With her telekinesis, Taylor grabbed a weapon. A black marker from the dry-erase board where their training assignments were posted. She began to hurriedly scribble something on the inside of her forearm.
“I know what we’re up against,” she said. “I’ve got an idea.”
“He made an earthquake! The entire Academy is collapsing!”
“Oh God! My arm! My arm is broken!”
“Professor Nine can’t fight him alone—we have to go back!”
“He’s got a bomb!”
“It hurts! It hurts so bad!”
Screams greeted Five and Ran and, briefly, a Caleb, when they teleported into New Lorien. Five braced himself for danger and hugged Ran close to protect her, but no one was paying any attention to them. They weren’t in the middle of a battle, they were in the middle of a retreat. There were other people teleporting into the cave via the same Loralite stone, new shapes appearing every few seconds.
“Students,” Ran said weakly, just as bewildered at the sudden change as Five. “The Academy?”
Ran’s eyes bounced over the faces. She saw Miki collapsed against one wall. She spotted a small group tending to Lisbette who’d somehow been badly burned. She caught a glimpse of Nicolas dragging a large piece of machinery out of the cave, into a blustery snowstorm, Lexa jogging along at his side.
“John Smith is killing everyone!” a tweeb named Danny shouted as he appeared next to them. “He’s—” Danny shut his mouth when he spotted Five, his splotchy skin covered in blood, his single eye glowering. “Oh.”
Malcolm Goode immediately shouldered through the crowd when he noticed Five and Ran. His mouth hung open in shock.
“Five? Ran? How—?”
Five grabbed Malcolm by the front of his shirt and shoved him backwards until his back hit the grand table in the middle of the room.
“What is this?” Five shouted. “Why am I here?”
Gasping a bit under Five’s grip, Malcolm noticed the pendant still clutched in his fist. He tapped Five’s hand.
“You—you must have teleported in. This is New Lorien, it’s John’s—”
“Don’t care,” Five said.
He released Malcolm and set Ran gently onto the table. She was bleeding through the bandages that Five hastily applied in the warden’s office. She felt light-headed, could sense herself ebbing away. Still, she smiled gently at Malcolm. She was glad to see his face. She was glad to see all of them.
“She needs a healer,” Five said gruffly. “Now.”
Malcolm’s eyes cast about. “I don’t see . . .” He shook his head. “Taylor, our healer, is still at the Academy. We’ve come under attack and—”
A wild look in his eyes, Five turned towards the Loralite stone they’d teleported in from.
“I need to go back,” he snarled. “My friends—my only friends—are in the middle of their own fight. Trying to save your asses.”
“Is there . . . is there Loralite there, Five?” Malcolm asked cautiously. “Because if there’s not, then there’s no way . . .”
Five’s skin turned metallic and his fist clenched. He seemed close to losing it. Even though it hurt her, Ran leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.
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