Escape to Eden

by Rachel McClellan

  I say nothing more, knowing Tank couldn’t respond if he wanted to. Two-way communication could be tracked if someone knew to look for it. Because of what happened, I’m sure the Institute has their tightest security in force.

  Several minutes pass until I recognize the spot where Anthony had parked to let Colt and me off only hours ago. The Oscar Johnson Pavilion can’t be far away. I keep driving through the overgrown forest, the road barely passable.

  Because of the thick vegetation, the car’s headlights can only shine so far. I imagine what may be lurking, hiding within the darkness. Primes could be watching me with their perfect eyes, and I would never know. My breathing quickens, and I wipe the sweat from my brow on the back of my arm.

  I need air. Fresh, cool air. I quickly roll my window down and breathe in deeply just as I come to the top of a small rise. Finally there are streetlights, but I discover that I’m arriving at the side of the Center instead of the front gates. I’m still some distance away, but I can see several vehicles parked alongside a long circular driveway adorned with trees and tall statues.

  I’m looking for a place to conceal the car when something crashes on its roof. I scream and swerve to the side, instant adrenaline coursing through my body. My hands grip the steering wheel until it hurts, and my heart beats fast. Do I run? Fight?

  I jump when my door opens suddenly.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Colt.

  I close my eyes and drop my shoulders in relief. After inhaling two big breaths, just enough to get my heartbeat back to a normal rhythm, I get out of the car and slam the door. Colt is standing shirtless, his arms folded to his chest, and his wings folded to his back.

  “I’m doing what you won’t,” I say.

  “And what exactly is your plan? They’ll spot you in an instant.”

  “No, they won’t. I’m in a completely different outfit, hair and all.” He looks me up and down while I continue. “I plan on going through the front door. I’m fairly certain I can talk my way in.”

  “Then what? Fight your way to Anthony?”

  “I have the stunner.”

  He’s staring at me hard, not moving a muscle. “And how were you going to get him out? You have a costume for him too?”

  “I will once I’m inside.”

  He narrows his eyes as if searching for a hole in my plan. He’ll find lots of them, but I’m not worried. I have the one thing the Institute wants. The one thing to ensure Anthony’s survival.

  “And did you consider that Anthony might not be able to walk by now?” Colt asks. “What then?”

  I lift my chin and look at him. “A trade. Me for him.”

  This makes Colt flinch, and he steps back. “You would do that?”

  “Of course. Anthony saved me.”

  “But why? You get to live your whole life, probably until you’re a hundred. Why would you risk your life for someone who has so little time left?”

  I look up at the stars; each one burns bright. “This world of yours is so messed up. Man might have perfected a lot of things, made everything pretty and shiny, but in the process they’ve lost their human spirit. The part of them that will fight for those they love no matter the cost. It isn’t about how much time any of us has left. It’s what we do with that time that matters. If I die tonight, at least I will do it knowing it was for a good purpose and for a man who took great risk saving me and my brother.”

  Colt stares at me, moonlight reflecting in his blue eyes. He gives the slightest of nods.

  “It’s a choice I’m making. And I choose to help a good man in need. What are you going to choose?”

  He turns and looks at the Center. “I’ll help, but not using your twisted plan.”

  “You have a better one?”

  “Yes.”

  Did you bring Anthony’s heat signature gun?” Colt asks.

  I open the door and reach behind the driver’s seat where I saw Jenna place it earlier. “Here.”

  Colt takes it from me and raises it to his eyes to look through.

  “Will it work this far away?” I ask. We must be at least half a mile from the Center.

  “It’s working,” Colt says. “Most everyone is downstairs, but there’s still ten or so people on the two floors above the party. I can’t tell where they’re keeping Anthony.”

  “So what are we going to do?”

  Colt walks to the rear of the car and pops a latch. From within a metal box, he removes a circular object.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “A distraction.” He hands me the heat signature gun. “Keep watching. See who doesn’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  He sprints forward; his wings unfold huge and black, sweeping him into the darkness. If I didn’t know him, the image would be terrifying.

  I wait impatiently for several minutes, keeping a close eye on those inside the Center. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. So much for Colt’s distraction.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper in frustration. Every second we waste could cost Anthony his life.

  Just then there’s a loud boom, and I drop to my knees, fearing the worst. But when I look up, sprays of all kinds of colors light up the night sky. Several more follow. They’re beautiful. I had only seen fireworks on television. I realize this is Colt’s distraction.

  I press the heat signature gun to my eyes. People, in the form of red, glowing shapes, rush outside. I glance to the second and third floor. Many more leave, some moving onto balconies, but on the second floor, on the south side, three men remain. One of them appears to be sitting down, but it’s hard to tell since the shapes aren’t well defined.

  Colt lands in front of me, his great wings folding behind him. “Anything?”

  “Second floor, south side. Take a look.” I hand him the heat sensor.

  “That’s got to be him,” he says. “I’ll do a fly-by. Maybe we can get him out a window.”

  “There’s a balcony. Take me to it.”

  “No way.”

  I point toward the Center. “There are two other guys in there. You’re going to need my help. Quit arguing and let’s get this over with while everyone is distracted.”

  “If you insist.” He reaches into the truck and removes a backpack. “Put this on and wrap your arms around me.”

  I throw the bag over my shoulders, then link my hands around his cool neck and try to repress a shiver, but it comes anyway.

  “Sorry I’m so cold,” he says. “Part of being a Noc.”

  He wraps his arms around me and presses me tight to his chest. He looks into my eyes, our faces only an inch apart, then his wings spread and we are flying. My eyes are closed, but secure in Colt’s arms, I open them and gasp. The stars look right within my grasp. For a moment I forget about everything else. Here soaring in the darkness, I have no worries, no fears; I am free.

  I’m smiling when Colt says, “Hold on. I’m landing.”

  I barely feel it as he drops onto the roof. He releases me, and I walk to the edge and look over. The balcony of the room I think Anthony is in is two stories below me.

  “You were supposed to get me on the balcony. Lower me down.”

  “Let me check it out first.”

  He disappears before I can argue. A noise near the corner ledge draws my attention. Most everyone is outside watching the fireworks and congregating near a lit-up pool. Several have already jumped into the water, clothes and all. They are laughing and celebrating, completely unaware that nearby a man is fighting for his life.

  Colt returns a minute later and says, “You were right. Anthony’s down there along with two Primes. One of them is the guard you zapped earlier and the other is a Mudder.”

  I moan. “That’s bad.”

  I barely survived my first encounter with a Speeder, thanks to Colt, but to have to also deal with a Mudder? They’re the strongest of the species, arms and legs like tree trunks and good at fighting. My only advantage is knowing their weakness. They
tire quickly. However, between their strength and the quickness of the Speeder, I’m not sure how Colt and I can beat them.

  “How’s Anthony?” I ask.

  A shadow darkens Colt’s face, and he shakes his head. “Not good.”

  “Then let’s hurry. We have the stunner and the knife. This could work.”

  “I don’t think so,” he says and moves his mouth like he’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

  I cross the distance between us and take hold of his hand, which he immediately withdraws. I ignore the motion and say, “We have strength on our side, Colt. Not physical, but the kind of strength you get when fighting for a good cause. The Primes below us? They’re only following orders, and will obey up until their lives are put in danger. Let’s put them in danger and then save Anthony. Got it?”

  Colt’s jaw muscle bulges before he scoops me up and lifts me off the roof. He’s careful when we land on the balcony and gently lets me go, but he’s quick to step away from me.

  I keep my steps light across metal planks and peer through a crack in the curtains. Two men in white suits talk by the door. Anthony’s sitting in a chair, his back to me. At first I think he’s better than what I suspected, but then I see blood. There’s a dark puddle of it pooling beneath him.

  I move away from the window and take deep breaths while Colt takes my position. It’s my fault Anthony’s hurt.

  After a few seconds, I say, “We need to wait until they’re closer to the window. That way we can surprise the Speeder with the stun gun. Together, we can take the other one.”

  Colt looks back at me. “You okay?”

  “I will be when this is all over.”

  Colt leans to the other side of the window. “It’s never over. Not in this world.”

  “Can you hear what they’re saying?” I ask, pushing his comment to the back of my mind. The thought of constantly having to worry about my life or those I care about makes me ill.

  “They’re discussing the fireworks, trying to decide if it’s someone’s idea of a joke or if they pose a more serious threat.”

  A burst of blue and white explodes across the sky, making me look up. “This is the first time I’ve seen these in person. How long will they last?”

  “At least another hour.”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  Colt says nothing, and we stay like that for some time, going back and forth from watching the fireworks to peeking inside, waiting for an opportunity to present itself.

  “This is taking too long,” he says. “We might have to just go for it.”

  I’m about to agree when a loud noise echoes from within the room. Both Colt and I vie for position to peek in the crack, but in the end I win.

  Inside is a flurry of movement. At first I think there are a bunch of people fighting, but when the Mudder falls to the ground, only two remain: the Speeder and Tank.

  “It’s Tank!” I say. “He’s helping us.”

  Colt pushes down on my head so he can see over me and says, “I don’t believe it.”

  Tank and the Speeder slowly circle each other. Tank is smiling, his hands curled into tight fists. I think the fight may last a while, but when the Speeder bolts faster than I can blink, leaving a white blur in its wake, Tank seems to predict the Speeder’s move and kicks to the side. The action is deadly accurate and the Speeder cuts through the air and crashes into a wall. Tank smooths back his hair and goes to Anthony.

  “Stand back,” Colt says.

  I scurry out of the way just before he kicks through the glass.

  Tank looks up, not at all surprised to see us. “I was wondering how you’d get in. You must have some great gear to get on that balcony.” Tank frowns. “Where’s your shirt, Colt?”

  “We had a few issues,” Colt says and nods me forward to help Tank with Anthony. I notice he’s being mindful to keep the wings on his back out of Tank’s line of sight.

  “What would’ve happened to Anthony if we came later?” Colt asks Tank.

  “Then I would’ve secured him somewhere safe until you could retrieve him.” Tank has one of Anthony’s legs untied. I’m behind Anthony, working on untying his hands. It’s a slow process because there’s so much blood. I pretend it’s water to get the job done.

  “What about your precious celebrity cover?” I ask Tank, giving myself a distraction.

  He looks up at me, pausing long. “I’m glad you came back.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “I shut down the security cameras for exactly ten minutes, which wasn’t easy. I had to knock a couple of brutes out to do it, so let’s hurry this up. How do you plan on getting him out of here?” Tank doesn’t show any signs of discomfort as he easily lifts Anthony to a standing position.

  I don’t look up at Anthony right away. I’m not ready to see the damage my actions caused.

  “I guess there’s no way around it,” Colt says. He turns around and walks toward the window, exposing his back. “We’re going this way.”

  Tank whistles. “You’re a Noc! The real deal, wings and all. How about that? Never seen one before.”

  “I bet you don’t feel so special now,” Colt says.

  “Anthony?” I place my hand on his back.

  His head droops toward me, but he doesn’t say anything, can’t say anything because his lips are bruised and bleeding. Both eyes are a deep purple and swollen shut. Blood has dried just beneath his broken nose and onto his chin. His shirt has been torn open and on his chest there’s a cut that starts at his right collarbone and slashes diagonally to the bottom of his ribs. I put a hand to my mouth to stifle a cry.

  “He’ll be okay,” Tank says, his voice kind.

  Anthony lets go of the side of Tank and finds my hand. He barely squeezes it.

  “I’ll take Anthony first,” Colt says. He walks to him and turns him around slowly. “I’m going to strap you to me. Remember how we did it before?”

  Anthony gives a small nod.

  “Good.”

  After Colt and I guide him to the balcony, Colt removes a thick strap from the backpack and ties it around Anthony.

  “I’ll be back for you,” Colt says to me. “Don’t go anywhere.” He looks at Tank and then back at me before taking off.

  I watch them go, feeling sick at the sight of Anthony. Who could do this to someone else?

  “Shocking, isn’t it?” Tank says behind me.

  I turn around. “What?”

  “That we do things like this to each other when we live in such a beautiful world where ‘peace’ has reigned for decades.”

  “But it never existed at all, did it?”

  “The war is just different now. It’s man warring with himself, trying to combat what he thinks is imperfect. Unfortunately it’s the Originals who get caught in the crossfire. Primes would do anything to get at one.” He glances at the door. “I better go look busy and find a woman to entangle myself with. The Institute is going to know someone helped Anthony from the inside.”

  “Thank you for your help,” I say.

  Tank steps toward me. A breeze from the open balcony doors blows my hair. He catches it and smooths it back into place. “I’ll do anything I can to help you. I hope I see you again.” He drops his arm and exits the room, leaving me staring after him.

  I shake my head to clear the red I know is on my face and return to the balcony. I don’t understand Tank’s motives. To act so forward with someone you barely know makes me suspicious.

  A scream comes from the pool down below as someone falls into the water. More laughing. A red firework lights the sky, making me catch movement—a dark blur moving quickly to my left. But when I glance over, it’s gone. I focus my attention on the grove of trees where I saw whatever it was disappear. When a minute passes, I wonder if it was only my imagination.

  Colt lands next to me and looks inside the room. “Where did Tank go?”

  “Back to his celebrity status.”

  “Right where he belon
gs. Grab on.”

  I do as he says and wrap my arms around his neck. When we’re in the air, I ask in his ear, “How’s Anthony?”

  “Hurt pretty bad, but he’ll live. It’s a good thing we came when—”

  Just then Colt’s body jerks hard to the left, and my grip slips. His hand barely catches mine, leaving my feet dangling in the air.

  “Hold on!” he says. “I’ve been shot.”

  I glance up, squinting through my wind-blown hair. There’s a tear in his right wing making it difficult for him to fly. With every downward stroke of his wings, we lower further to the ground.

  I reach my other arm up to hang on tightly to Colt. We’re far from the crowds, and darkness mostly conceals us, but that’s the least of my worries. I look down. Directly below us, a man rushes after us, but the way he runs is more wolf-like. His hands hit the ground and his feet follow, propelling him forward, giving him ten-foot strides. And not far behind him, another creature follows after, his movements similar to the first. I wonder if it was one of them who shot Colt.

  Another firework explodes, illuminating the face of the figure directly below us in a reddish glow. A strip of thick gray hair runs down the center of his head and two fangs fill his open mouth.

  “Go higher!” I yell at Colt when my eyes meet those of the creature running toward us. They are a bright yellow, the color of the outer edge of a burning flame. He’s a Canine and the last Prime I ever want near me.

  Colt pushes his wings hard, lifting a little, but it’s not enough. I let one hand go and reach into my pocket, my body swinging hard when Colt turns away from approaching trees.

  “Your hand is slipping!” he says.

  I grip the handle of the knife and pull it out just as the Canine leaps into the air, claws extended.

  “Sage!” Colt yells and attempts to lift me.