Unbreakable Storm

by Patrick Dugan

  Blaze fired shots as he ran, but I knew he’d be too late. I now knew what had been troubling me. I watched as Grim Reaper’s scythe descended on Pepper Spray, parting the shield to embed in her chest. The green light pulsed as she died, impaled by the blade.

  Blaze screamed as he ran. Jackhammer swooped in to impact Reaper in the chest, sending him flying out of the loading dock. Ruby Lash laughed as she avoided Gladiator’s sword and made her escape. The whole thing had been a setup, and neither team realized it. Blaze fell next to Pepper and pulled her limp body into his arms. Jackhammer landed next to him but couldn’t console Blaze; his grief poured out of him like a broken dam.

  I stood mutely watching as the love of Blaze’s life died in his arms. There weren’t any last words exchanged as the movies would like us to believe always happened. Gladiator knelt next to a legless Alyx, who had passed out, probably from shock. I’d meet them later, prisoners of the Syndicate in the Zoo. I don’t know how long I stood there, watching a grieving Blaze, unable to do anything about it.

  The edges of the dream frayed like an old blanket as Blaze’s world telescoped down to Pepper in his arms. I was unsure what to do next. As I watched, a ghost rose out of Blaze; the one I knew, not the one I’d watched live through the worst day of his life. He came to me, his face haggard and streaked with tears. “Do you understand?”

  Understand what? I just watched as the woman he loved more than life died. Saw one of his friends have his legs amputated by a psychopath. I understood pain, I understood loss, but I didn’t know what he was asking me for. “I don’t.”

  He looked me straight in the eye, still as a gravestone for a long moment. “Do you understand why I want to die.”

  25

  I stared wide-eyed, mouth hung open as if to catch flies. My brain whirled, Blaze wanted to die? I know the loss of Pepper Spray had been painful, but it had been years ago. “No, I don’t. How can you die knowing there are people who love and depend on you?”

  “Dude, I’ve lived with this for over twenty years, dreamt of it most nights, crying over my loss. Time doesn’t heal all wounds. If there is an afterlife, I’ll get to be with her again. Don’t you see? I’m tired, Tommy.”

  How could a seventeen-year-old understand how tired someone over sixty feels? I’d lost Wendi. I knew the ragged hole in my heart had closed and, in some ways, it had deepened, but I couldn’t just give up. “You always told us you never give up the fight, but it’s okay for you to quit?”

  “That’s different. You’ve got things to live for.”

  “SO DO YOU!” I hadn’t meant to scream, but there we are, my big mouth running the show while my brain is off taking a nap. “Everyone at Castle loves you, and regardless of what you think, we still need you. The people at the Lair need you, especially with Mimi missing.”

  “Dude, you will all be fine without me. I’ve trained you; you’re ready to face anything.”

  “You’re right. I guess we’ll take care of your mess.” Time for the low blow.

  His eyes narrowed. “What mess?”

  I steeled myself and begged Blaze would forgive me later. “Grim Reaper. You haven’t settled the score with him. He has Pepper Spray trapped in his scythe. I guess we’ll handle it while you drift off to the great beyond to see Pepper.” I snapped my fingers. “Oh, that’s right, until we destroy his weapon, her soul is stuck in the scythe.” I turned on my heel to leave. I shot back over my shoulder. “I’ll tell Makeda not to bother with you.”

  Blaze caught up to me in a flash. Fortunately, being a ghost, he couldn’t turn me around or beat me like a drum. I faced him. Anger coursed over his face, and his eyes burned with fury. “Dude, that’s not fair. I couldn’t beat Reaper if I wanted to.”

  “No, but you could help us do it.” I wanted to say more, but I’d already hurt him. He had to realize we needed him and he needed us. I watched as emotions raged in his eyes. Part of him wanted the pain to end, but the warrior craved revenge, and it could push him toward living. Honestly, I’d played my cards; I’d have to see if it had been a winning hand.

  He sighed at last. “Tell Makeda to heal me if she can. When I’m better, I owe you a thrashing, Dude.”

  “Well, in that case,” I trailed off, catching him smiling at me. “Makeda did warn me the healing could kill you, but I figure you’re too stubborn to die so easily.”

  He laughed. “We’ll see.” His smile faded. “Tommy, thank you for making an old man see the ocean instead of the wave.”

  “I’ll see you when you’re feeling better.” I closed my eyes and thought of being home. I opened my eyes to find Blaze laid out before me. “He said to heal him.” I decided I’d never share what I’d experienced in Blaze’s memories, except maybe with Alyx, if the need arose.

  Makeda nodded once. “I need to start; he’s fading.” She squeezed my hand then stood. Words in a language I didn’t understand flowed out of her like lava from a volcano. I returned to stand with the rest of my family. Funny, they really were my family, and the only ones I’d ever have.

  Mom put her arm around my back, pulling me close. “Good job, kiddo.” I don’t know what I’ll do when Mom passes. I’d just hope it was a long time before I’d find out.

  Golden light gathered around Blaze, lifting him off the couch, buoyed on the currents surging around him. Thicker bands swirled, looping around his torso and legs, tightening to hold him in place. Motes danced, small stars spun above his chest, all in time to some unheard rhythm. They darted into Blaze over and over. He shuddered each time one vanished into his body. Chest, head, and abdomen were shot through with the particles of energy. The room flashed with the light show.

  Makeda hissed. Her words took on a rushed quality I hadn’t heard earlier. Black tendrils oozed out of Blaze, coating his skin like an exoskeleton. The motes died as they touched the darkness that consumed him. The golden light flared, and the blackness retreated slightly. Blaze screamed in agony. Mom’s grip tightened as the terrible sound erupted out of him. The light dimmed before going out completely, dropping Blaze on the couch. Abby ran and caught Makeda before she fell.

  Mom ran to check Blaze. “He’s still breathing, but his skin is warm.”

  Abby set Makeda in a chair. Marcel returned with a glass of water, which he handed to the weary mage. She took a deep drink, closing her eyes as she did. Her breath slowed as she sipped at the water. I could see a definite trembling in her hands. When she had emptied the glass, Marcel took it from her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her tone laced with exhaustion. “The sickness is deep within him. He doesn’t have the strength to help me rid his body of it. I did manage to reduce it, which will keep him alive longer, but without intervention, he will die.”

  “Thank you, Lady Makeda.” Dad sketched a quick bow to her. “We know you did everything you could.”

  “It wasn’t enough, I’m afraid.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to remove the tiredness from them. “Where magic has failed, science may prevail.”

  “I’m not going to any hospital.” Blaze laid on the couch, eyes open. “If it’s my time, it’s my time.”

  Mom shushed him. “You aren’t Gifted, so you’d be safe to go.”

  His face twisted into a scowl. “I went to three doctors before I came here. All three said the same thing. The cancer had spread too far to treat. Medical science hasn’t progressed enough to remove it.”

  Marcel’s head whipped around, causing his hair to rebound, hitting him in the face. “I’ll be back.” He almost ran out of the room. I knew from the look on his face, he had An Idea. The last time he had An Idea, he’d had us surrender so he could break into the Megadrome’s security systems.

  Makeda’s eyes had returned to normal. Tired lines etched her face but had reduced in intensity as she sat. “Before I return to the council, I have something for you.”

  She rolled her hand over, holding it out to me. In her palm sat a black rectangular device with a gold piece attached to its face. I
took it from her outstretched hand. The gold part hinged so it could be opened. I flipped the top up, and a familiar sound made me laugh. “Is this a Star Trek communicator?”

  Her eyes traveled to the ceiling. “Alyx asked me to give it to you after Pimiko told him I would see you soon. He said Marcel would know how to use it to contact him until he can make a more secure mode of travel for you. Now I will take my leave of you.” She rose and went to kneel by Blaze. “I’m sorry, I tried my best for you.”

  “I know you did, Lady Makeda, and I am honored you would expend so much to save me. I am grateful for your assistance.” Blaze’s eyes held a haunted distance to them.

  She touched her fingers to his forehead before rising, facing the rest of us. “I have much to do, so fare thee well.”

  “Thank you,” we all said. She inclined her head, spoke a soft word and vanished from the room. It felt like we had lost our one chance to help Blaze.

  Blaze pushed himself up to a sitting position. The color had returned to his cheeks, the mischievous spark to his eyes. “Well, I can cross that one off my bucket list. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could eat an elephant.”

  “I’ll make you some soup,” Mom said as she headed toward the kitchen.

  “Screw the soup; I need real food.” Blaze started to stand but fell back on the couch. “Whatever Makeda did has at least helped for a bit.”

  Abby stepped over, assisting Blaze as he climbed to his feet. With an arm around his back, she guided him across the room, toward the kitchen. I noticed as they passed, Blaze’s feet were about two inches off the floor.

  I stopped next to Dad as he watched Abby carry Blaze to the kitchen. The open area in the center of Castle had beds of plants and flowers basking under the artificial sun. Living underground took a lot of extras to make it habitable. The living quarters all had simulated windows which tracked the weather outside Castle. Without such things, you’d go insane after an extended stay.

  “You okay?” Dad asked as we stood there. “Traveling into another person’s mind can mess you up quick.”

  I shrugged. “I’m fine. I’m glad Blaze is doing better. I thought we might lose him today.” I started across the atrium for food, my Pop-Tarts a long, distant memory. I kept seeing Pepper Spray dying when my mind wandered. I couldn’t imagine how hard those memories were for Blaze.

  “You did well.” Dad stopped just short of the kitchen. “Don’t let how he is today fool you. Without treatment, Makeda’s actions have only given him a couple of months if I had to guess. At this point, any additional time was better than the alternative.”

  I heard the heavy foot treads coming from behind us. Marcel ran, yes, actually ran, toward us down the hallway leading to the stairwell.

  “I think I have a way to help Blaze!” He yelled though the huffing and puffing from his run, distracted from his enthusiasm. He bent over, catching his breath while Dad and I watched. He really needed to work on his cardio. Too many hours at the computer.

  “I have to talk to Blaze, but I think there is a chance we can help him.” Marcel resumed his trek to the kitchen. Dad glanced at me, to which I shrugged and followed.

  Abby sat at one end of the table, feet propped up on a chair. Mom had enough food set out to feed a small nation, but when I saw Blaze, I understood. The man ate like he’d never tasted food before. Three empty plates sat stacked in front of him as he ate a chicken pot pie. I’m not sure “ate” covered it. More like he inhaled it. Within thirty seconds, he had finished it off and looked about for more.

  Mom slid over a salad bowl of pasta salad she made so that we had late night snacks. His fork blurred as he attacked it without mercy. At this rate, he’d eat more than his weight in food by dinner. I slid into a chair at Abby’s end of the table. I didn’t want to lose a limb to the shredder going at the other end. Dad flanked Abby on the other side from me. Marcel stood near Blaze, waiting for an opening. It came a minute later when he pushed away the empty bowl.

  “Blaze, I need to ask you something. I went through the systems here, hoping to find a registry of all the safe houses and underground complexes the Gifted teams had. There isn’t one. Do you know where we could get one?”

  Blaze sat back, his usually flat stomach bulging from all the food he’d packed away. “Dude, there wasn’t one.”

  Marcel’s head dipped in defeat. “Oh, thanks.” He turned to go, but Blaze put up a hand.

  “I said there wasn’t one. I created one when it became likely the Gifted would lose.” Blaze burped, quickly excusing himself. Abby laughed heartily. “You wouldn’t find it here. Gifted teams never shared intel between them.”

  “So where can I get it? If I’m right, that list might hold the key to helping you.” I swear Marcel held his breath while waiting for the answer.

  “It’s on the system back at the Lair.”

  “You put the master safe house list on the cash register system? It’s totally unsecure. I could hack it with a toothpick and a piece of gum.” Marcel spluttered at the thought.

  “Whoa, dude.” Blaze held up both hands as if trying to stop a speeding car. “There’s a lot more to the Lair than you know. The system is disconnected from everything. You can only access it through the control panel in the underground portion.”

  “What underground portion?” Abby had her head cocked with a confused look plastered on her face. “We’ve never heard about anything along those lines. Have you, Tommy?”

  I didn’t have to say anything; my silence did the talking. She threw up her hands. “Of course you knew.”

  “I had to hide out after Mandy’s boyfriend tried to kill me in the parking lot. I was sworn to secrecy.” She rolled her eyes at me. “My lawyer told me to keep it under wraps.” She nodded once but wasn’t happy about it.

  If Marcel cared about being kept in the dark, he didn’t show it. “We need the file. I found a report detailing out a prototype medical device that could re-write a person’s DNA. The team who had it was called Crisis Patrol. If we could get you there, we might be able to reverse the cancer by fixing the genetic codes.”

  Silence hovered over us, no one knowing what to say. Could we possibly find a way to eliminate the cancer killing Blaze? Mom spoke first. “If it’s true, it would cure you. We have to get the file.”

  Blaze shook his head. “Way too dangerous. We can’t return to Granite Falls; every Reclaimer in the world is searching for you. The public might think you’re dead, but finding you is the Protectorate’s first priority.”

  “We could go at night, slip in, get the file, and be gone before anyone knew we were there,” Abby said quietly.

  “We’d want to download the systems, so we don’t have to make a second trip.” Marcel rubbed his chin. “I’ve got just the tool. Ten minutes and we’d have everything and be gone.” A dismayed look crossed his face. “We’d have to drive to Granite Falls in order to do it. That’s going to add to the risk.”

  I smiled. “I’ve got just the thing to help out.” I held out the device Makeda had left with me.

  “Is that a Star Trek communicator?” Marcel’s eyes widened. “Does it work? Where did you get it?” His words stumbled over each other as his mouth tried to keep pace with his brain, a problem I’ve never experienced.

  “It works. I’ll tell Scotty to beam us up.”

  26

  Nothing, ever, goes as planned. Cooler, less geeky heads prevailed, pointing out we would need an actual strategy more than Alyx dropping us in Granite Falls. I guess waltzing through the front door, going to the hidden safehouse under it, and retrieving files the Protectorate would kill everyone in the city for wasn’t the best idea. Marcel and Dad went down to the control center to prepare the gear we’d need to replicate the system. After, we’d nuke it, so if it did fall into the wrong hands, there wouldn’t be anything left.

  We had gathered in the living room once Blaze had finished eating everything in sight. Mom announced his color was better, but he needed to rest. S
ince the mission involved infiltrating his store in the middle of the night, we needed his input. He sprawled on one couch, with Abby and me on the other. Mom sat in her favorite chair as we waited for Dad to return from the control room. It wouldn’t take long since Marcel was in full geek mode.

  Dad strode into the living room. “Marcel has what we need to be able to extract the data and wipe it from the systems there. We’ve also got a couple surprises to leave in case anyone enters. At least we’ll know if the place is compromised. The three of us…”

  Mom, however, wasn’t having it. “Michael, can you handle this? After Atlanta, I don’t want Abby or Tommy in the line of fire again. They are children, not soldiers.”

  I felt Abby tense next to me. She didn’t like being called a child, maybe more than the thought of being left out of a mission. I nudged her, shooting a silent plea not to explode.

  “Mom, we aren’t kids. We’ve fought for our lives, and we are stronger as a team than apart.”

  Mom’s icy glance told me I wasn’t included in this conversation. “Tommy, you were captured in Atlanta, and if not for the Underground, the Protectorate would have killed you. I’m done taking chances with my children, and I mean all three of them.”

  “Susan, it is a dangerous world for all of us. Tommy is right, we are stronger together. But I will go with Alyx and handle it.” Dad’s tone held no signs of emotion. I doubted the lawyer voice would work on him.

  “What about Mr. Waxenby,” Abby asked softly. “Is Ranger supposed to go it alone? What if this seer is right and losing him ends everything while we sit until our eighteenth birthdays?”

  Shock crossed Mom’s features; Abby had hit home. “Abby brings up an excellent point.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “In that light, I can’t refuse you going, though it worries me sick when any of you leave.”