My com chimes, and if it’s not Eli with good news I’m going to be really pissed.
I disengage from my lovers and stand on shaking legs. Hal picks up the thermal blanket and drapes it over my shoulders. I activate my com and wait for Eli’s news.
It is not Eli calling.
“Kylie? Are you there?” It’s Malcolm Martin, leader of the Abnormal Council—and, incidentally, my father.
My estranged father to be exact.
I groan and focus on steadying my breathing before I answer. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
His voice on the com is gruff and stern--just like I remember him. “What’s this Eli tells me about you traipsing across the Old U.S. with an active bomb?”
“Self-destruct device. There’s a difference.”
“Is it going to explode?”
I roll my eyes at my boys. They’re not connected through the coms, but the PermaLinks let them in on the conversation. Sam snickers as he bends to dig some clean towels and fresh clothes out of one of our bags.
“Not as long as you guys can get Clare’s baby’s DNA to us in time.”
“That is a tall order, Kylie, and it was unfair of you to ask it of Eli and myself.”
“Unfair to ask you to save my life after I risked everything--everything--to obtain that ‘weapon’ for you?”
“Kylie Renee Martin!”
Oh, great. The centuries-old method of chiding a child by using their full name.
Good thing I’m not a child anymore.
“Malcolm Ethan Martin!” I shout. “See? I can do it too. Now, just so you know, we’re a couple hours behind schedule. We got a couple flat tires, but we’re still mobile. We’ll rest up for a couple of hours and get back out there on foot. When and where can we expect to meet the air transport?”
I don’t like the silence that follows.
“Dad—what aren’t you telling me?”
“Kylie, I think you should abandon the objective. Leave the stasis pod where you are and get clear before the timer is up.”
“Dad. When is the air transport getting here?”
My father sighs, and I can picture him running a hand through that salt-and-pepper hair of his. He’s probably pacing in his office.
“Dad…” I let my irritation seep into my voice.
“Kylie, sweetheart, the air transport is not coming.”
Four
I look from the stasis pod to the three men who would risk anything for me and back again. I know where Dad’s logic stems from: minimize the cost of life, minimize fatalities. It makes sense from a strategic standpoint, but I can’t help but think that there’s a living being in that pod. It may not be human, but you don’t put dead things in stasis. Something in there is alive, and if we leave it behind it’ll die when the pod self-destructs.
“I see. So you’re expecting us to abandon whatever poor creature the Gifted manipulated and just let it die a fiery death.”
“We just can’t risk it, not for some unknown weapon that may or may not be a trap.”
“Uh huh.”
Dad’s voice takes on a dangerous tone. “Kylie, you’d better not.”
“Hal,” I say, “connect to my coms so you can tell my dad how far away the Squad is from us.”
Hal clears his throat and activates his com. “Uhm, Mr. Martin, sir, my scans indicate that the Squad tailing us will arrive in three hours.”
“So if you leave now, you’ll be able to stay ahead of them?”
“No, Mr. Martin. We’re on foot, and they have an overland transport. We gained some time when we had our old SUV, but now they’re the faster party.”
I shift my weight and cross my arms over my chest. “See, Dad? Stasis pod or no, we’re screwed if you don’t come for us. Now, I don’t know what’s in that pod, but I’m not leaving it to die alone.”
“Kylie, be reasonable! We can’t get there in time. Don’t throw your life away for something like this.”
I get Dad’s point, but I’m a stubborn bitch, and his insistence just makes me dig in my heels even more. An idea springs to life in my mind, and after a brief discussion via PermaLink, my boys and I are in agreement. “Fine, Dad. We’ll find some other way to get to you guys. We’ll get to the Dead City, and we’ll bring the pod, and you guys had better be ready with the baby’s DNA or else I’m taking you down with me.”
“Ky--” Dad starts to object, but I turn off my com.
Sam hands me a pile of clothes. “Here, Boss. I figure you’ll want to be dressed and ready when the Squad gets here.”
“Indeed.” I take the towel first, because I need to clean up.
By the time I’m dressed, so are the guys. Sam and Vin have armed themselves with pulse rifles and plasma blades, and Hal’s ocular is already at work. He answers my question before it’s asked.
“Two hours and forty-five minutes. Kylie, do you really think this will work? They outnumber us two to one, and we don’t have any Bloodhounds or Snipers like they do.”
I take a pulse rifle of my own and check the settings. “Yeah, it’ll work. If it doesn’t, we’ll either be taken to Kensington or blown sky high. So it has to work.” I look up from my weapon and sigh. “Great. They’re starting to come inside.”
Vinnie whips around and aims his rifle at the door, but I’m pretty sure he can’t see the little girl and the old man, both clad in white, standing there. “Is the Squad here?”
I sigh and lower the barrel of the rifle. “No, Vin. It’s that little girl I’ve been seeing. She brought friends to the cabin.”
“Kylie, I don’t see anything, not even with my ocular. Are you sure you don’t need to sleep a little before the Squad really does get here? You know we’ll all watch over you. You’re safe with us; you don’t always have to be the one to stand guard.”
I’ve already formulated a theory as to who—or rather what—the beings in white are. Unfortunately, I don’t have any way to prove to the guys that they exist. Unless…
“Hal, can you set your ocular to read EM wavelengths please?”
“Why?”
“Just do it, sweetie.”
Hal nods and focuses his ocular. When his eyes widen and his jaw drops, I know my suspicions are confirmed.
“Holy fucking shit.” It’s rare that Hal curses, so I know he’s come to the same conclusion I have.
…[What the fuck is going on?]… Vin’s mind is agitated, and I realize he feels left out when Hal and I start talking logic and science—although this is as far from modern science as you can get.
…[Ghosts. We’re being followed by ghosts.]…
Sam laughs, and Vinnie frowns. Through the PermaLink I can sense that he thinks I’ve lost my ever-loving mind.
“Ghosts aren’t real, Ky. They’re myths.”
“Well, Hal just quantified those ‘myths,’ so maybe there’s some truth to the old stories after all.” I step towards the little girl, the first ghost I saw. She doesn’t back away, but her empty eyes look up to meet mine. I wonder if we can communicate somehow. Brain waves are essentially bioelectromagnetic, so in theory my telepathy should be able to bridge to whatever world she lives in. …[Hi there. My name is Kylie. What’s yours?]…
Her expression changes for the first time since she appeared, from flat to fascinated. …[You can see me? And talk to me?]…
I smile and hold out a hand. …[It appears so. What brings you to our neck of the woods?]…
She raises a pale arm and points to the stasis pod. Her arm passes clear through my hand, as though it wasn’t there. …[That box called to us. We follow it.]…
…[Do you know what’s inside the box?]…
She cocks her head to the side and frowns. …[I knew what it was called, a long time ago. Now I don’t remember. I don’t remember much anymore.]…
…[Do you remember your name, sweetie?]…
…[Greta.]…
I’m a little sad that I can’t give this poor, dead girl a hug. I feel like all lost little girls d
eserve hugs, but she’s lost in a place that I can’t physically get to.
Maybe when the self-destruct goes off I can give her that hug.
…[Well, Greta, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Tell me something; I’ve heard that people like you can do amazing things to objects in our world. Can you make things move here?]…
She nods. …[Little things I can move. Things that aren’t alive. Living things are too hard.]…
I glance back at the bag of weapons at Sam’s feet. A plot starts to form in my devious little mind, and I think the tides may have turned for our impending battle with the Squad. …[Can you move something like this?]… I pull a plasma blade out from its sheath on my belt and hold it out to her, deactivated, resting it on my open palm.
She shrugs. …[I can try.]… Her little hand reaches for the handle of the blade, and after a couple of tries where the handle just twitched in my hand, she is successful at picking it up. Through the PermaLinks I can feel Sam and Vinnie’s jaws drop in unison as, to them at least, the plasma blade hovers in midair.
…[That’s very cool, Greta. Can you push the button on the side there?]…
She nods and her little face squinches in concentration as she presses the blade activation button. Red-hot plasma shoots out in the form of a blade, and just like that the tables have turned in our favor.
I turn to the older man. …[And you, sir? What is your name?]…
…[Zeke.]…
…[Well, hello, Zeke. Maybe you can tell us what’s in the box, or why or how it’s calling you to it.]…
Zeke smiles. …[You of all people should know what time of year it is. It doesn’t matter what is in the box, or why it’s calling to us; the veil is thinning, and that’s all the how you need for now.]…
…[Are you one of those old, enigmatic ghosts that won’t give a straight answer?]… I say to him, but my lips tug up into a wry grin, taking the sting from my thoughts.
…[Old? Yes, I was old when I died. Enigmatic? I think you’re giving me more credit for being evasive than I deserve. Some things aren’t for the living to know, and some things you can only know when it’s time.]…
My grin fades. …[Rules of the afterlife, then?]…
…[Something like that.]…
With a sweeping motion I indicate the bag of weapons. …[Zeke, sir, do you think you and the others can do what Greta’s doing?]…
Zeke turns and looks to the door—through the door—at the other ghosts gathered outside. I can’t hear him communicating with them, but I can feel the conversation in the back of my brain, like when my telepathy picks up on stray thoughts in a crowd.
When he looks back, he’s got a grin on his translucent wrinkled face. …[They say you’re called the Red Witch.]…
I laugh. …[Among other things.]…
He passes through me on his way to the weapons bag and lifts up a pulse rifle. …[In my day, these shot projectiles instead of energy blasts. The firing mechanism appears to be the same, though.]… Zeke grins and rests the barrel of the rifle on his shoulder. …[You know, in my youth I was a soldier. A damn fine soldier, if I do say so myself. Fought in the Battle of Paris in WWIII.]… He winks at me. …[As you can tell by the wrinkles on my face, I didn’t die as a young man. A survivor, through and through.]…
I sense pride emanating from him, and it makes me smile. I imagine as a ghost Zeke doesn’t often get the chance to feel useful.
At this point, Sam and Vinnie are speechless. They’re not seeing what Hal and I are seeing, and the PermaLink doesn’t convey any more than thoughts that pass between the four of us; they have no idea what’s going on.
More ghosts pass through the door and head for the weapons cache. Sam and Vin back up as all of our weapons rise and power up of their own accord.
There are more ghosts than weapons, and a few have frustrated frowns on their faces when the weapons bag is empty. I wave them over to me. …[Well, we’re out of guns and blades, but I think you can still be useful. How good are you guys at manipulating electromagnetic fields around objects?]…
Frowns turn to devious grins, and they all nod.
…[Excellent.]…
Five
After I get Sam and Vinnie calmed down and explain what’s going on, they relax a little. Vinnie’s too superstitious to relax completely, but Sam rolls with the punches and takes his position off to the side of the path to the cabin with Zeke and his contingent of ghosts. Vinnie’s with me, Greta, and our ghost soldiers, and Hal guards the stasis pod back near the cabin.
As we wait for the Squad to arrive, Zeke and the other ghosts explain that there’s something in that pod that’s attracting them, pulling them from their usual haunts to follow it. The ghosts say that whatever’s inside isn’t malicious, but none of them will tell me what it is. The most Zeke will tell me is that it’s “both bane and boon,” whatever that means. I suspect that Alyssa and her Gifteds used some new tech to alter an animal, make it supernatural, but I don’t know why.
We hear the Squad transport coming long before it crests the hill. Sam, Vinnie, and I are hidden behind trees, and the ghost army has their weapons out of sight as well. The ghosts without weapons stand in the direct path of the transport, ready to wreak havoc on the transport’s electrical systems.
But not too much havoc. We’re going to need that transport if we’re going to make it to the Dead City in time.
The Squad transport rumbles through the dead trees of the once-thriving forest, knocking down the woodland skeletons as it goes. A ripple of anger pulses through the ghost army, and I have to remind them that we need the transport operational once this is all done. Begrudging agreements float back to my mind, and I guess that’s the best I can hope for.
The transport engine, loud and obnoxious, sputters and stops. A Squad Athlete gets out to check it, but I tell my troops to hold for now. I want the whole Squad out in the open when we attack.
The Athlete opens the hood of the tank-pod and digs around inside, looking for the cause of the electrical short. He doesn’t see the ghost of a young woman standing inside the engine, doesn’t see her translucent hand on the battery compartment. He walks back around to the side door of the tank-pod and shrugs at the other Squad members inside.
It seems like they discuss their dilemma for an eternity before the others come out as well.
Greta looks to me from across the clearing. …[Now?]…
I nod, and her contingent moves forward to engage the Squad.
Now, I can only imagine what it must’ve looked like for the Squad members, at least the non-Telepaths: a dozen active plasma blades, hovering in midair, gliding across the clearing towards them. The Telepaths may or may not have seen the ghosts—I don’t know, because I had never seen one before encountering whatever’s in the stasis pod—but even if they did see them, I’m sure it came as a shock.
With the threat of the encroaching plasma blades, the Squad drops their PsyBlocks, giving me access to their minds. The Telepaths are scared shitless, and it’s then that I realize that I might be the only person—besides Hal with his ocular—that can see the ghosts. This puts us at an even greater advantage. I grin and signal my team with the pulse rifles to step out from behind the brush where we’re hidden.
“Hey, there. What’s a Squad like you doing in a place like this?”
Through their minds, I see myself, clad in black NeoSkin, red hair wild, surrounded by half a dozen floating pulse rifles, all aimed at the Squad. One of the Bloodhounds starts to shake, and I hear him think, …[She really is a witch!]… He pisses himself a little, and Greta giggles from her position on the front line.
I decide at that moment that I like the nickname. I let a wicked grin spread across my face, and with a wave of my hand chaos ensues.
Pulse blasts fly across the clearing from both sides. The Snipers aim at the ghosts’ rifles first, but it’s not long before they realize that they’re not hitting anything and adjust their aim to target me.
I dive t
o the side, but not fast enough; my shoulder is hit by a pulse blast, and the searing hot plasma burns my skin long after the initial impact. I use my telepathy to anesthetize the wound before I go into shock from the pain.
Concern flows through the PermaLink from Hal, and Sam and Vinnie’s links overflow with white-hot rage. My two Athletes charge forth from their hiding spots and tackle the Snipers. The distinct crack! of vertebrae snapping is almost lost amid the vwoop! vwoop! of the ghosts’ pulse rifles.
Seeing their Snipers dead at Sam and Vinnie’s feet, the Bloodhounds place their hands on their heads and kneel in surrender. The two Squad Athletes take defensive stances, and the Telepaths turn their attention to me. I’m well-known enough to the Squads that they know who’s in charge, and with their Athletes occupying mine, they think they’ve got me outnumbered.
What the Squad Telepaths don’t know, however, is that some of my new ghost allies were Telepaths when they were alive—and they retained their abilities in death.
One ghost ‘Path in particular, Carol, strides toward the Squad Telepaths with purpose. She told me while we were preparing for the ambush that her daughter had been hunted by Squads, that Gifted guards in Kensington had done terrible things to her and made her do terrible things in turn, that the late Ezekiel Howard had imprisoned her and forced her to carry his child.
I never imagined I would meet the infamous Clare Rhoades’s mother like this, but I’m grateful to the sleeping thing inside the stasis pod for bringing her to us.
Carol walks straight up to the Squad Telepaths and places a hand inside each head. It’s a little disconcerting to watch, but given that it’s taking most of my telepathic power to keep the pain at bay and stay conscious, I don’t complain. I hear Carol’s last words to the Telepaths before she fries their brains, and I’m reminded that the mother of the species is, historically, the deadliest.
…[This is for Clare, you Gifted bastards!]…
Wicked Souls: A Limited Edition Reverse Harem Romance Collection Page 172