Wonderful—my own personal, psycho bodyguard.
14
I followed Jon and Turk away from the building, leaving the corpses behind. More dead Reclaimers wouldn’t be welcome news to anyone, especially the Underground. We entered a dilapidated strip mall and took a set of well-used stairs between stores down past an old bar-and-grill, slipping by it to a covered flight leading further underground into a basement storage area.
Warden waited at the bottom, flanked by two guys. One stood at least six-five and over three hundred pounds, mostly muscle. He wore a tank top showing off his full sleeves of tattoos. The other came up to my shoulder and was whipcord thin. A scruffy dark beard covered the lower half of his face. His expression made me want to stay on his good side.
Warden checked me over as I stepped off the last stair. “Well, you certainly led us on a chase, Sparky.” She emphasized Sparky with sarcasm, which spoke volumes.
I flushed with embarrassment. “Thank you for getting me out.”
She waved her hand. “You had already escaped, we just helped you find your way out. Were you followed?” The last was directed at Jon.
He shook his head. “No, we took care of the Reclaimers who had Sparky.”
A concerned expression crossed her face. “Took care of? How?”
Turk spoke up. “We iced those asses. We’ll teach them not to mess with us.” His eyes glittered with excitement as he spoke. His hands were out in front of him as if reliving the kills.
Warden’s face hardened with anger. “I explicitly told you there would be no killing of any Reclaimers or Cartel members. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Turk barked a harsh laugh. “Saved Sparky’s lame ass is what we did.”
Jon shot Turk a withering scowl. “Warden, they had an inhibitor band on Sparky and weapons leveled. We couldn’t chance an itchy trigger finger. I assumed you didn’t want him returned dead.”
The big man stepped toward Jon. “I don’t like your tone.” His voice rumbled like thunder.
Warden put a restraining hand up. “Not now, Boulder. We have bigger things to worry about than an impertinent tone. We need to get back to base.” She gave Jon and Turk a very hard glare. “We aren’t done talking about this or your place with us. Come.”
She turned and passed through an opening in the back wall. I followed Jon and Turk; Boulder and his silent friend brought up the rear. We moved through a long hallway, lit with a string of Christmas lights. Another set of stairs led even deeper into the bowels of the city. Warden stopped at the end of the hall, motioning us to keep going. “Salvo, blow the access. We can’t chance the Reclaimers finding this route.”
The thin man shot us a dirty look. “Warden, it will limit our access to the Cartel and Mol–”
Warden’s response cracked like a whip. “I know what it will cost us, but we can’t chance it. There are other ways that are usable. Now close this off and return to base.”
Salvo bowed his head to her. “But of course, Warden. You are correct as usual.” He spoke with a strong North Eastern Region of the European Zone accent. Mom referred to it as British. I wondered if the Underground operated out of London as well as Atlanta.
Our band of Gifted wound our way through an elaborate series of halls, stairs, and sewers. Noises echoed while we crept through, not wanting to draw the attention of anything living down here. Salvo rejoined the group on the far side of the sewers. The thought of walking through here alone sent shivers down my spine.
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at an underground city. Children ran and played in the streets as adults worked on repairing structures, laying out food for the afternoon meal, and otherwise keeping busy. There must have been over a hundred people living in the hollowed out remains of several buildings. Arches held the roof up in between the old structures, giving it an open feeling. Light filtered from above, adding to the impression of daylight. No wonder they had been able to avoid the Protectorate for so long.
Warden noticed my swiveling head and laughed. “You look like a tourist in the big city for the first time, Sparky.”
I didn’t bother trying to keep the awe out of my voice. “This is amazing. I’d have never guessed at how much you have here.”
Turk barged into the conversation. “We should be taking the fight to the Protectorate. The Reclaimers couldn’t match our firepower.”
Jon glared at him but stayed silent. Warden sighed. “Boulder, can you escort these two gentlemen to the reserve? I’ll be along shortly.”
Turk opened his mouth, his temper flaring, but Jon’s hand slashed out, striking him in the stomach. “Warden, we’ll wait on you with no problems.” Daggers flew at me with his glance. “Sparky, we’ll meet again.”
“I’ll be counting the days,” I said wearily, surer of Marcel’s theory every moment I was around Jon.
Jon grabbed Turk’s arm and led him away, Boulder and Salvo trailing them.
Warden studied me for a second. “He really doesn’t like you, though his reasons only make sense to him.”
I watched them go. “It was my fault, and I deserve it.”
“Actually, you don’t, but from personal experience, teens have a harder time grasping the realities of the situation. If you’ll follow me, I have a couple of people anxious to see you.”
It got my attention. “After you, ma’am.”
A quick walk later, we entered through the door into what had once been a bank vault. Dad and Abby sat at a card table, waiting. They leapt to their feet when they saw me. Abby virtually tackled me in a hug, knocking the breath out of me in the process. Dad hugged me far more gently. “Welcome back. You don’t look worse for wear.”
I pulled off my broken helmet. “A functioning helmet would be nice. Sorry if I worried you.”
Warden cleared her throat. “I hate to break up the family reunion, but it’s time for some straight talk. Why the hell is the cast of Saturday Night Showdown standing in my operations station?”
We all glanced at each other.
“Oh, come on! Even if Jon and Turk hadn’t betrayed your identities, everyone in the world saw you on the show. I’m not stupid.”
Dad explained about Waxenby and the run-in with the Syndicate. Abby and I chimed in details, though she stopped us when we mentioned the Zoo. “That was you?”
Abby indicated it was.
“Well, I guess we are even then. You freed my daughter from that bastard, and we got you away from the Cartel.”
Stunned, I blurted. “You’re Molly’s mom? She helped get me away from Dr. Goat. Without her, I’d have been handed over to the Reclaimers.”
Warden wilted. “I asked her not to go there, but she’s so stubborn, just like me. She’s trying to find the formula for the mutagen drug. Then we could shut down the designer drugs Jackal is selling. Some of them do horrible things to the kids who take them.”
“Dr. Goat calls her Emerson, and he dotes on her. She’ll be spoiled by the time she comes back.” I tried to sound upbeat, but I still worried I’d exposed Molly on accident.
She chuckled, sounding very tired. I recognized it from watching Mom all the years in Redemption. “I’m sure she will be. Well, if we are going to be allies, I should show you something. Please come this way.”
Warden walked through the bank vault door. I entered into a massive room with a silver metal structure sitting in the middle of the chamber. Twice the size of a normal door frame and covered with circuitry, it dominated the room with its presence. A thick rope of cables trailed across to a desk by the far wall, holding a bank of monitors. A slight dark-haired woman looked up, waved, and went back to what she was doing.
Warden gestured to the doorway. “After the Dark Brigade attacks, a group of Gifted correctly concluded we were fighting a losing cause. With the Protectorate gaining strength, their reach made staying outside of the ruins impossible. The Underground formed around the original group. They put out the word that any who entered would be safe.”
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br /> Abby’s scowl deepened. “Safe? We’ve seen giant rats, and some alligator monstrosity almost ate me. Not what I’d call safe.”
Warden sighed. “In the years after the attacks, nothing lived here. Later, we realized the death beam had residual effects. Non-Gifted who entered sickened and usually died. The Cartel developed the mutagen drugs, which allow people to live here without adverse effects.”
I didn’t want to interrupt, but something she said gnawed at me. “You said usually died? What happened to those who didn’t die?”
She grimaced. “Some developed Gifts of their own. Others became twisted, grotesque, and in constant pain, and we ended up killing them to put them out of their misery. A few fled to live on their own; we try to avoid them. Things don’t go well when we meet up.”
I heard a low growl from Abby, but thankfully she dropped it. I’m sure it hit close to home seeing how she’d been hunted like an animal before her parents turned her into the Reclaimers. I watched out of the corner of my eye, but she didn’t appear to be growing.
If Warden heard Abby, she didn’t show it. “We had a Gifted, Technokid, who could build just about anything. He created these transporters. They transfer matter between places, allowing us to move from city to city. We built them in places we could close off easily and destroy if necessary. The idea of one of the transporters falling into Cartel or Syndicate hands keeps me awake at night. If it ever happened, they would eradicate the Underground.” She fell silent as if pondering the future of her people.
Dad stepped closer to the transporter to examine it. “Will your people flee to escape the Protectorate response to rescuing Tommy?”
After a moment, she responded slowly. “No, I don’t think it will be necessary.” She straightened her jacket and went on. “The Protectorate will scour the area, but they know they can’t find us in the ruins. We have rigged traps around the city as have the Cartel. Nosing around will lead to more loss with little to gain. I’ll pull all my people back here so we can escape if needed.”
Dad continued to study the structure. “This is impressive. I met TechnoKid early on. Nice kid, but extremely odd sense of humor. He set up a continual loop on Golden Avenger’s sword recall device. Took him a week to figure out how to stop it. Avenger wasn’t pleased when he summoned his sword, and it returned to base.”
It got a laugh out of Warden. “He was a sweet kid. Luckily, he finished the transporter project before…” She trailed off.
Abby prodded. “Before?”
Warden took a deep breath and continued. “TechnoKid couldn’t stand authority, but he couldn’t fight. He brought his wife with him to live in Boston with the Underground. After a couple of years or so, his wife fell ill from the mutagen. She transformed into a monster, killing most of the medical staff who’d been trying to reverse the effects.” She paused, collecting herself. “TechnoKid entered the building and killed her, which was truly a mercy. In his grief, he turned the gun on himself.” She turned away from us, wiping tears from her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Abby said, her eyes unfocused for a moment. “I know how hard that kind of decision is. There are no winners.”
I put my hand on Abby’s shoulder. I knew she’d be thinking about her murdered parents and blaming herself. For the millionth time, I wished Wendi were alive. She could reach Abby when no one else could. I sometimes forgot how important Wendi had been to everyone else besides me. Her death had a domino effect reaching farther than I would ever know.
Warden turned to us, her mask back in place. “Thank you. We’ve all been through terrible ordeals because of the Protectorate.”
“If you could, would you free all the Gifted?” I blurted out, getting a sharp look from Abby and a concerned one from Dad and Warden.
She studied me carefully as if she had taken me at face value only to find something different. “That’s an interesting question. On one hand, all people deserve to be free.” She glanced at Dad before continuing. “On the other, some Gifted use their powers irresponsibly, on both sides of the law. Freeing the Gifted could lead to the same issues that put us here. I’m just glad I don’t have to make those decisions.”
Dad moved to stand next to me. “None of us will be making any decisions. The Protectorate has eliminated our choices quite thoroughly. Our immediate need is tracking down Oliver Waxenby. The Syndicate captured him in a failed rescue attempt.”
Warden cocked her head. “Would that be the attack on the school buses in the South Western Region we’ve been unable to confirm?”
Dad nodded. “It was. The Protectorate destroyed two school buses and eliminated most of the students from Eldorado High School to explain how they caught Abby.”
She whistled. “Every time I think the Protectorate can’t sink any lower, they do. Slaughtering children to frame Gifted.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I’ve got my people in all of our cities looking for clues as to where they are holding him.”
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “He was captured stopping Armageddon from killing us all.”
She flashed me a quick smile. “Even more reason to find him then. And when we know where he is, you are free to use the transporter to gain access to the city. Let’s not float down any more rivers?”
Abby laughed. “The floating wasn’t the issue; it was the greeting party that bit.”
Abby had been spending way too much time with Marcel. “That was awful.” I groaned. Marcel’s horrible humor had infected her, which reminded me, “Before we go, something Dr. Goat said is troubling me.”
Warden’s keen stare affixed me like a lizard on a skewer. “Is it about Molly?”
I waved my hands frantically. “No, nothing like that.” The intent glare softened, allowing me to breathe. “He told me he’d called in about a drug deal to get the DEA to crash the meeting. How would he have known?”
“Damn it!” Warden punched one fist into her open hand. “I knew a DEA bust was far too convenient on a meeting only a few of us knew about.”
Dad’s brow furrowed. “How sure are you about your people? The two who accompanied you to the meeting could have been planted.”
“No, they weren’t told until we were leaving, I was the only one who knew about the meeting. Our secure channel must not be as secure as I thought.”
“Mr. Wizard can fix it,” Abby said.
“Mr. Wizard?” Warden’s face twisted in a grimace. “You guys really need help with code names.”
Dad winked at Abby. “He’s our tech-op. If he can’t find the source, no one can. I’ll have him reconnoiter the comms and determine the root cause. Maintain radio silence until he’s had time to work.”
I waited for a barbed comeback over the obvious radio silence statement, but she let it slide. “Let’s get you back to where you belong.”
We followed Warden out of the transporter room and down another basement beneath the rock ceilings of the cavern. Three large men stepped out to meet us, Boulder at the lead. “Boulder will show you a tunnel that comes out near enough to where you hid your car. They’ll sweep the car for trackers, just in case. Have a safe trip back. We’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you, Warden,” Dad said earnestly. “Tommy falling into the enemy’s hands would have had dire consequences for us all.”
She smiled. “We need to stick together if we are to survive.”
She motioned to Boulder, who set off toward our exit. We stepped in behind him and the other two guides. Warden’s voice followed after us. “Oh, and Sparky…” I turned to look back at her. “Please come up with a better code name before we meet again.”
Abby barked out a laugh. My cheeks flushed as I resumed walking.
Wonderful, the world is full of comedians.
15
Boulder led us through the twisting, turning labyrinth of passages of the undercity. He set a good pace as we traversed the abandoned buildings of Atlanta. Abby walked next to me, taking any obstacle as a chance for parkour practice.
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nbsp; “It is amazing how the Underground has set this up,” she said as we went through an old warehouse. Crates and pallets were stacked around haphazardly, but small, unobtrusive markings showed the inhabitants where to find supplies or contact points. “No wonder the Reclaimers haven’t found them.”
I agreed, amazing would be a good term for it. “I don’t know how anyone could find their way around down here.”
Boulder answered my question, causing me to flinch with surprise. “Most of us have lived here our whole lives. My parents brought me here as a teenager to avoid being sent to the Block. By fifteen, I could lift a small car, so everyone knew I was Gifted.” He paused as he ducked under a metal pipe to jump down to the next section of pathway at the end of the warehouse. We hopped down behind him. “As soon as they announced the testing, we fled here and were welcomed by Warden. I’ve been here ever since.”
I started to ask about his parents when Abby elbowed me hard in the side. She glared at me, daring me to open my mouth. The question ended then and there. Most likely, his parents had died from the mutagen, so asking would be stupid. I grimaced at Abby and got a satisfied nod in return.
We continued through unseen passageways, through wrecked buildings, and once back into the sewers for a short, scary trip. I swear I could feel eyes watching me as we passed. Several areas had mold, trapping skeletons of unwary animals that we avoided. Unnerving would be an understatement.
At last, we came to a large room stacked with crates and boxes. People moved around busily opening the containers and repackaging the contents into smaller bundles. The far wall was entirely made of metal, with a small door set off to one side. “This is one of the landing docks. We bring supplies in, and then they are carried to the main community.”
Dad looked impressed. “How do you get the supplies in past the Protectorate?”
“We are outside the wall here, so they don’t watch as closely. We have Gifted who make this easier, but darkness hides a lot of sins.”
“Makes sense,” Dad said. “Do we exit from here?”
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