“Your technique is weak,” I growl. He chuckles as he rights himself, slipping an arm under my leg, pulling me by my knee. I kick and squirm, reaching for my boot knives to plunge into his neck.
But instead of ravaging me with his teeth or claws, he tosses me a few feet away from him, and pants lightly as I pull myself up from the hard, crumbled concrete.
“You know, Asher told me you were pretty, but I never imagined you looking this good, and this tough,” he remarks, wiping blood from his face with the back of his hand.
I freeze, trying to keep up my defenses. I don’t know what affects me more: that Asher told another Harpy about me, or that he thinks I’m pretty. Damn you, girl thoughts!
“He talked to you about me?”
“Of course, sweet. I am his confidante, after all. But you don’t need to worry about me. I’m with him. We are fighting the same war,” he says.
“Then what are you doing out here with a bunch of other Harpies?” I counter. He just chuckles.
“I can’t stand out now, can I? If there’s one thing about the Harpy world I can tell you, it’s that traitors aren’t killed. They’re made to suffer for the rest of eternity. I love Asher as much as any best friend can, but giving up my life will be no help to us. I imagine your friends have already disposed of them anyway,” he says. His tone is akin to losing an annoying pet.
But his point rings through me. I don’t have long before they find us.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“Dodge. You don’t need to harbor any ill will toward me, pet. Asher’s taken quite a shining to you after all,” he replies. Typical Harpy misleading bullshit. But I can’t bring myself to rush over and kill him. Inside it seems… wrong.
“Well, Doge, I’d suggest you get the fuck out of here before I change my mind,” I quip. His eyes brighten.
“So it’s true, then. Not all Hunters are murderous monsters. Keep your feelings hidden, Piper. I’ve heard the price to pay for double-crossing the Corp is just as dear as ours,” he says.
He blows me a kiss and takes off into the night. I stand there, trying to ignore the swarm of bees in my stomach. The situation I’ve gotten myself into is… insane. Sympathizing with Harpies, not being able to kill… What the hell is wrong with me? I’m supposed to be an Ace. But now… what am I?
“Pie, are you okay?” I whirl around to see David jogging toward me. His left arm is torn and gushing blood, but he doesn’t seem to notice. I rush to him.
“Shit, David. What happened?”
He glances at his arm, eyes widening at the sight. How did he not notice this? I tear off a piece from my shirt sleeve, soaking it in some alcohol from my pack before wrapping it around his arm and tying it. He winces as the alcohol seeps into his wound. I look into his eyes. The whites are bloodshot, his pupils wide and black.
“My adrenaline kicked in when I couldn’t find you, so I guess I didn’t feel it,” he explains, then holds me out with both hands. “What were you thinking running off on your own?” His voice is sharp, condescending, scolding.
“The leader ran off, so I followed him out here. I didn’t want him to get away,” I say.
“Did you find him?” He lets me go, his anger slowly growing to concern.
“Yeah. He was tough, but I got the bastard,” I lie. It’s windy enough that the ashes would have blown away by now. Guilt threads through me as David grins.
“That’s why you’re my sister you little badass,” he says, letting at least a little relief flow over me.
“We’d better get back. The paperwork for this is going to me monumental.”
We move back toward the metro station entrance, but before we can leave, David’s eyes catch something. He leans down to the ground, picking up a sheath of silver metal.
“You dropped your dagger,” he says, handing it to me. He doesn’t say anything, and my heart throbs in my chest.
There’s no blood on the dagger; nothing to show that I’d killed anything with it. Not even a scratch.
On the walk back, I know David can sense the lie, but he doesn’t say anything. I don’t know whether to be relieved or not, but my body won’t let me feel anything but crimson shame.
9
The abandoned carnival horses stare me down as we leave the deep tunnels and surface in New Victory. It has grown even more decrepit since I was last here, and too many images swirl through my head.
“Isn’t this a bit risky?” I ask once we reach the old cobbled streets.
“The Corp rarely canvasses this area anymore. After everything that happened, it’s too hot for any Harpies to risk. There are extra sensors everywhere, but they’re set for flight, not for Humans,” Dodge says. I snort as he says it, and he raises an eyebrow.
“Humans?” I question. He winks at me, and I see the old Dodge in him. The quirky, flirtatious Harpy he was when I met him. God, how much this war has changed us all.
“Fine, grounded Harpies and Hunters with their Human consorts,” he corrects.
The journey through the tunnels was silent and tense. I have the feeling that a lot more is happening that I don’t know of, but no one seems to want to tell me. It’s like I’m an unwanted fifth wheel they just happened to have saved.
“Once we’re through here, we’re going to have to travel above ground for a bit,” Grier states. She’s been the leader thus far, scouting out the terrain ahead of us. I’m not used to being relegated to the back. I’m dying to do more, but Grier refuses to let me, and Sandy keeps insisting that I not “overdo” it, that my body can’t handle it.
“How are we going to pass the sensors?” I ask. Grier doesn’t look back as she answers.
“There’s an unguarded exit through one of the metro tunnels past here. I found it on our way to Central.”
But there’s something missing from her reply. I can feel it buzzing in the minds of everyone around me. What’s the catch?
I try not to look as we pass the old town square and the fountain. I can’t help but picture Asher’s smile, his ridiculous optimism, his soft touch. Shelley reaches out to me, grabbing my hand.
“You’ll see him again, babe, and we’ll figure this all out,” she whispers. But we all know deep down that can never happen. There are some things that can’t be recovered.
“Wait,” I say suddenly, holding up my hand. Grier stops ahead, looking back at me. “Listen,” I hiss. Sure enough, the echoes of footsteps sound behind us. I whirl around, and the face I see in the distance stops me in my tracks.
Tor, looking weathered, anger in his eyes. At least five soldiers follow him. How did they find us? Did they know our path all along?
“Stay away from us, Nelson,” Grier growls. He grins maliciously. There’s something different about him, and as he nears, I see it: bloodshot eyes, crazed expression. He’s been shooting the Harpy blood compound.
“Be careful,” I warn everyone behind me. I walk up to Tor alone, and motion for him to do the same. He signals to his backup, who stand still, watching.
“I told Rupert you weren’t to be trusted, you know. Even with all of those Nanos stuck in you, I knew you’d find a way to escape. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon,” he says.
“Just let it go, Tor. No one needs to get hurt,” I say. He laughs in my face.
“That’s a good one coming from you. Do you even know how many good men are dying from the war you started?” he quips. I glare at him, confused. The war is just beginning. What is he talking about? Then his eyes flash in realization.
“So, you haven’t told her then, have you?” he shouts back to Grier and Sandy, Shelley and Dodge. I turn to them.
“What is he talking about?” I ask, but in that moment, Tor lunged forward, jabbing my abdomen with a thin blade. I gasp in pain, trying to kick him away without twisting it further in my body. But he’s a hell of a lot stronger than he used to be.
“Grier screams, leading Dodge into the fight, taking on the other soldiers. By the way they move, they loo
k like they must be Human, but faster, stronger.
“You used to be a nice guy, you know,” I grunt as I pull the blade from my body. My blood splatters Tor, but he doesn’t seem to notice, he just lunges forward again, assailing me with his fists.
“A great deal of good that did me, being a nice guy,” he replies between punches. Ignoring the throbbing pain, I block his last punch, then use the blade to slice the back of his leg. His Achilles snaps from the blow, and he falls forward, grunting in agony.
“I’m not going to let you win, Tor,” I growl. But then the muscle and sinew around his ankle begins to regenerate, healing within second. It’s almost as fast as a Harpy. He stands, his expression triumphant.
“What are you going to do, kill me like you killed David?” he spits.
I nearly howl as I rush at him. We parry blow for blow. I slash him apart and his body regenerates, but I can’t help but notice that each time it’s a bit slower. He must need to keep injecting for the drug to work.
Just when my own wound is about to take me down, I finally get a shot at Tor’s chest. I bury the knife deep into the muscle between his arm and chest, immobilizing him. He spits up blood. Grier and Dodge appear at my sides; the rest of the soldiers are dead.
“You won’t kill me, Piper. You’ve grown too soft,” Tor mumbles, crazed.
“I have no problem killing you,” Grier offers, but I signal her not to.
“Someone needs to report to Rupert that we are not to be fucked with,” I say.
Tor’s not going anywhere, not for a long time. For good measure, I smash his comm equipment as well. Let him suffer.
“All I wanted was to love you,” Tor grunts. I just shake my head.
“All you wanted was to use me to get to the top. Stop pretending. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have gone to Rupert’s side like a dog,” I mutter.
I turn away from him, refusing to look back. I hear bones crack as Grier kicks him unconscious. I try hard not to let any tears well up. He’s not worth crying about, even if I used to love him.
When we meet Sandy and Shelley, who have just emerged from their hiding places, there’s fear lacing their eyes.
“What are you hiding?” I demand. All eyes avert me. I slam my fist on a nearby pile of rubble, sending it crumbling. I’m so sick of this secretive bullshit.
Finally Grier steps forward and takes my hand.
“Come with me. You’ll see for yourself once we’re outside.”
Rupert’s glare is menacing as he paces at the front of the meeting room. Thick smoke pours from his mouth as he puffs on the stub of a cigar.
“I don’t think I need to tell you all how serious this is. Harpies having the sheer audacity to trespass on Elder ground. I don’t think we’ve sent them a clear enough message. They’re just going to send more. If they reach any town, it’s going to be absolute fucking mayhem,” he snarls.
We all sit, and watch, and wait. Rupert’s rants can go on forever. He’s thoroughly pissed. I wouldn’t be surprised if he throws something against the wall.
“What else can we do to send a message, Chief?” Rassler asks. I mentally glare at him. Rassler always opens his mouth at the wrong time, and is stoic any other time. He’s just lit a bomb fuse.
Rupert stubs his cigar on the front table. It hisses as it slowly dies. “We need to show them the same courtesy. We infiltrate the Harpy City.”
I don’t know which one of us gapes the widest. The underground is massive, but the Harpy City is dense. Infiltrating would be suicide.
“I see no one’s volunteering. Where’s my goddamned Ace task force? Where is the bravery in this room?” Rupert spits.
“Boss. We are all ready and willing, but what is our purpose? How do we complete this mission without creating a kamikaze scenario?” David pipes up, rising to his feet. I rise as well, and Rassler and Essa follow suit. As much as none of us want to die, we also gave our lives to the Corp. We are not cowards. We are Hunters first.
“One of our informants mentioned a feast on the full moon. Harpy feasts are chaotic, filled with blood. You should be able to get in and out without being noticed. One of our techs has also created a synthetic Harpy pheromone, so your smell shouldn’t give you away. It’s the perfect chance, and you are the perfect team. I have faith in you,” he explains.
The way I see it, it’s a 50/50 scenario. We get caught, we all die. What is going through Rupert’s head? Is his bloodlust strong enough to risk everyone’s lives?
“What are your orders?” I ask. Rupert grins to himself like a mad man.
“I want to send a message that will stick. I want you to bring citizen Harpies to the brink of death, and leave them in public. I want them to know it was me. I want them to be warned that if they send Harpies our way, then we will retaliate.”
Silence. Shocked silence. “Take the next few days to contemplate. I want you to research. I want you to run VR mods. I want you to be ready. This will be the mission that defines you. This will make you all heroes. Dismissed, except for Piper and Essa.”
Leave it to Rupert to launch a bomb like this and then let us sit on it. David eyes me warily as he and Rassler shuffle out. I know that look. It means we need to have a serious talk later, and I don’t blame him. For once I’m actually afraid.
As soon as the door shuts, Rupert turns his focus to me and Essa.
“Any news on H002?”
I bite the inside of my lip, hoping no one notices. With everything that’s been going on, the thought of the side task hasn’t been on my mind at all. Essa surprises me by speaking up.
“We know he’s been living in the Wasteland. As far as we know he is solo, though he switches locations often. We’ve found evidence that he has been camping on the ground floors of old buildings, and we’re currently looking for a pattern to indicate how he chooses his locations,” she reports.
Damn. She’s been working hard. Just go along with it. Rupert nods, and even though his surly face doesn’t show it, I know he’s pleased.
“Excellent. If we can zone in on him we’ll have a definite ace up our sleeves. Keep searching. I want him found.”
He waves his hand, dismissing us. Once we’re far enough away from the room, I stop Essa, eyeing her quizzically.
“When did you figure all of this out?”
She blushes a hard pink, keeping her gaze on the wall.
“I didn’t. I made it up.”
I don’t know whether to hug her or slap her. “You’re a better liar than I took you for,” is all I can say. She grins.
“You know this means we have to get our asses in gear, right?”
“And hopefully survive this week.”
We walk along in silence. There really isn’t anything to be said as the wails of impending death haunt our minds.
“That’s the new tech?”
We all met in the main VR hub early in the morning. The tech—Sandy Atwood—is at least ten years younger than the head team. Thin glasses perch over his nose, and his hair is close-shaven. He doesn’t look like he belongs in Central—no tattoos, no piercings, just a perfectly normal guy.
“Maybe he’s a genius. I’ve heard his mods are intense,” Essa whispers.
“He invented that scent serum on his own, so he’s got to be something special,” David remarks, admiration in his voice.
“Let’s get this over with,” Rassler mutters. We enter the room together, and even though we’re probably the most intimidating group ever, the tech doesn’t bat an eyelash.
“Good morning,” he chimes. His gaze doesn’t waver from his numerous Vid screens as he types furiously. The nice thing about being at the top is that there’s no need for introductions. We all know who each other are. Sandy scribbles his last bits of code and slides his chair over to us.
“You’ll have to forgive me, but I just got in from Ichton and had to catch up on some work. We may as well get started. Any questions before we get you in?”
“What’s the end
goal?” David asks. Sandy shoots us a tiny smile that looks like he’s hiding something clever beneath it.
“Stay alive for ten minutes.”
Rassler laughs under his breath. “Shouldn’t be too difficult.” I’m not so sure.
We suit up, attaching electrodes to our skin and temples, and then pull big VR helmets over our heads. Time to see what we’re made of.
The darkness from the helmet slowly brightens. The sun is out, a rusty orange, and we stand in a vibrant city square. Before us is a massive palace built by fusing skyscrapers, and the people around us are brightly colored, with braided hair, beads, and loose garments. And wings.
We’re smack dab in the middle of the Harpy City, at least, what I think is. I’ve obviously never been. It doesn’t take long for a Harpy with elaborately braided hair to notice us. She hisses, her eyes burning bright red as her talons protrude from her hands. The other Harpies react immediately, forcing us into a circle, our backs against each other’s.
“This isn’t good,” Rassler growls. In front of me is a sea of crimson eyes, with waves of wings—gray and tawny and sorrel. Everything about it feels so real. My heart rate spikes with the bristling of feathers.
All at once the Harpies attack ferociously and unrelenting. I fend off a petite female with snowy wings. She’s small, but strong, and her sharp teeth glimmer in the sunlight. She leaps forward and latches herself on to me, her talon digging into my skin.
I grab one of her wings and rip her off me, throwing her into the chest of another Harpy. I swing my head around just as David tackles a burly male about to snap my neck. But I still have Snowy to deal with. Before she can recuperate, I snatch one of my daggers and plunge it into her chest, whirling around to fend off another while she crackles to death.
The chaos in front of me is unbelievable. Essa has already disappeared, and my heart aches. Even though it’s virtual reality, one of my teammates died. I stab the neck of a massive female creeping up on David. He’s still grappling the tank while others try to latch on. Rassler has created a sniping den, but they keep coming.
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