“Tabs, did you know that Alec and I went to the same elementary school? He’s older than me, but he had brothers who went there.”
“Really?” Tabitha said. She used the scissors to start a nick in a bath towel, and then tore it lengthwise with her teeth.
“Yeah,” Krezi said, out of breath over the few words she’d uttered. “He had a brother named John. I remember him—I used to go to his house.”
A voice appeared in Tabitha’s head. “I went to your middle school. What was it called?”
Tabitha froze. Was he talking to her telepathically? He wasn’t looking at her—he was still grimacing at the pain in his leg.
Something was wrong. If Alec worked with lambdas, why didn’t he come right out and say it? If his job was to track down AWOL lambdas, then why weren’t they already arrested?
But she had an overwhelming desire to trust and confide in him. Tabitha wondered if this might be something like that friend of Aubrey’s, Nicole, who could control pheromones.
“I went to East Hill,” Tabitha lied. “Go Tigers.” There was no East Hill school in her hometown. There was an East Hill deli. And there were tigers at the zoo.
Alec laughed and clapped his hands. “You’re kidding me. One of you from Las Vegas and one of you from my old hometown in . . .”
“South Dakota,” Tabitha said with a plastic grin.
“Liar,” Krezi said. She looked at Alec. “She’s from Oklahoma.”
“I just got shot,” Alec said, his smile never fading. “And she’s already playing games with me.”
Tabitha was suddenly aware of her guns—the M4 and the M9 sitting on the kitchen table, along with an assortment of grenades and knives. Krezi’s pistol was there, too.
Tabitha could slam her finger into one of his wounds, and while Alec was screaming in pain, she could go for the guns. But Alec still had a gun on his hip.
“Krezi,” Tabitha said with her telepathy. “This guy is no good. I don’t know what’s going on, but he can make us trust him, or he can make us remember things that never happened. I think I’m immune, since my power is putting thoughts in people’s minds.”
Krezi shot Tabitha a look that was half disbelief and half annoyance.
“I’m serious, Krezi. This guy is bad.”
She finished one of the bandages—a mass of Band-Aids laid in place over the entry and exit wounds, wrapped in a long strip of towel—and then she moved to the second set of bullet holes, just below the knee.
“I think this one went through the bone,” she told Alec. “We need to find a splint.”
FORTY-FIVE
THE FOUR OF THEM CROSSED two more fields without seeing any other sentries or hearing any alarms before they paused for a breath. When they did, Aubrey hugged Josi and Rich, so glad to see them alive.
“Where are the others?”
“I don’t know how much you figured out on your own,” Jack said, watching the open field behind them. “But Tabitha was relaying false orders to you. We think she was trying to stall you so that the infantry would reach you.”
Rage flared in her chest. “What? Why would she do that?”
“To run away,” Rich said. “After the firefight started, Tabitha and Krezi ran for the bikes.”
Aubrey was too stunned to answer. Tabitha had told her to go slow. To check every tree. Had told her she couldn’t kill the lambda until she got confirmation—confirmation that Tabitha never passed along. That was why Captain Gillett had come running.
“She got Gillett killed,” Aubrey said, staring at Jack’s shadowed eyes.
“They were all killed,” Josi said, her voice breaking. “They died protecting us.”
“But I heard the order to fall back.”
“They didn’t do it,” Josi said. “We don’t know why.”
“I don’t think they heard it,” Jack said. “I could barely hear over that noise. Or maybe they got a different order than we did.”
“I couldn’t fall back,” Aubrey said. “I couldn’t move or I’d get hit.”
Josi took a deep breath. “Maybe it was the same for them.”
“What about Tabitha and Krezi?”
“We don’t know,” Rich answered.
“There were Russians behind us,” Jack said. “We couldn’t go back that way.”
“And we weren’t going to abandon you,” Josi said, a tear rolling down her cheek.
Aubrey let the words wash over her. Everyone had gotten killed because of the bad orders, but then the team had come together, fighting to save everyone.
And only Aubrey, Jack, Josi, and Rich remained. Tabitha and Krezi were AWOL. The rest of their team was dead.
Rich looked at his watch, and then at Aubrey. “You didn’t shoot the lambda, did you?”
Her stomach fell. “No. I got the flyer, but I didn’t get the lambda, not the important one.”
“You got the flyer?” Rich asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes.” She was certain of that one.
“It’s flying again,” Rich said, and held up his watch. “Power’s off.”
“That was quick,” Jack said, looking up into the sky.
Aubrey didn’t understand. “Has it been going on and off?”
“Just for the last twenty minutes or so,” Rich said. “Off, then on, now off again. I figured it was the flyer because it’s moving so much.”
“Then they must have another flyer,” Aubrey said. “Because I hit her in the chest, and she wasn’t wearing armor. Maybe she survived. Maybe. But no way she’s flying again.”
“This is all Tabitha’s fault,” Josi said, her fists clenched. “We knew she was unstable. Why didn’t we say something?”
“I had no idea she’d do this,” Rich said.
“Neither did I.” Aubrey was seething with anger. She had trusted Tabitha. She had let Tabitha into her head, let her guide her every movement, even when the orders didn’t make any sense. And now the lambda was back at work, and the Russian killing spree could start again.
“I did,” Jack said, still looking at the sky. “I mean, I didn’t think that she’d sabotage everyone, but I’m not surprised she ran. She tried really hard to get me to go with her—to join her rebellion.”
Aubrey didn’t know that, and it made her angrier. That Tabitha thought she could get Jack to betray everyone. Jack, of all people. Aubrey had never met anyone so loyal.
“She made some good points,” Jack said, more quietly. “She was very persuasive. I mean, obviously, I didn’t go with her. But she made some good points.”
“Well, she’s going to get court-martialed,” Josi said, without a hint of remorse. “She screwed us all.”
“There,” Jack said, stabbing a finger toward the sky. “Can you see it?”
“What?” Aubrey said.
He grabbed her arm, pulled her to him, and then pointed at something moving in the sky. Aubrey leaned her face against his sleeve, trying to follow the path. All she saw was the darkening sky.
“I don’t see anything.”
“You’re not supposed to,” Jack said, finally smiling. “It’s not a flyer, guys. It’s a glider.”
“A glider?”
Aubrey strained to see it in the darkness and wished her eyes were better.
“A plane,” Jack said. “It’s got a dark, navy-blue, really narrow body with thin wings. And it’s circling over the battlefield. They need a towplane to get it up in the air, and then it can circle for hours, probably for however long the lambda can use his powers.”
“You should have seen that lambda,” Aubrey said. “He was thin—like, anorexia thin. And sickly. He looked like he couldn’t even walk on his own.”
Josi spoke. “Maybe they’re using him all up. Aubrey, think of your power if you were on meth or something like that. You could stay invisible a lot longer, and you’d be a lot stronger. But you’d also be crazy and get sick. If the Russians’ entire strategy revolves around this lambda, maybe they don’t care about his long-term he
alth. Maybe they’re just going to use him until they can’t use him anymore.”
“We need to report this,” Rich said. “We could get some anti-aircraft guns on the glider.”
“All our anti-aircraft stuff is electronic,” Jack said.
“We still need to report this.”
“Wait,” Aubrey said. She looked at Josi. “Not to get all Dora the Explorer on you, but you’re the map. Do you know of any place this thing could land?”
“Sure,” Josi said with a nod. “If we’re assuming that this entire area is overrun, then the Russians have taken Ellensburg. There’s an airport there. It’s small, but it sounds like this glider wouldn’t need much. There’s also a landing strip in Cle Elum, farther away.”
“They’d use the close one, probably,” Jack said. “Because they keep putting this lambda as near to the front lines as possible.”
Josi held out her hands. “Just so we’re all clear: you’re talking about going in there instead of heading back for help.”
“I am,” Aubrey said.
“What?” Rich said—he almost shouted.
“We haven’t completed our mission,” Aubrey said. “And we still have the best chance of getting eyes on that target. Plus, how close is the airfield to here, and how close is our army base?”
Josi didn’t even have to pause to do the math. “About six miles to the airfield. About thirty-three miles to the army base.”
Jack put his hand on Rich’s shoulder. “At the rate they’re going, the Russians will have overrun the base before we can walk there. Plus, we’d have to go through their front lines. We’re already behind the enemy lines, so we should be able to avoid the bulk of their forces.”
“Besides,” Josi said, with a wink, “Aubrey’s in command. She outranks all of us.”
Aubrey laughed in spite of herself. “I didn’t want to say anything.”
Rich wasn’t laughing. “You’re talking about a full assault on their most protected asset. And we’re three lambdas and a lambda private.”
“You’re forgetting that lambdas are pretty powerful,” Aubrey said. “And I don’t know how protected this one will be. The airfield will probably be covered with anti-air defenses, so that no American bombers hit it. But they won’t be expecting a ground assault.”
“You assume,” Rich said.
“I assume. And that’s where I think we should be going. It’s where I’m going to go. But I’m not going to make you salute and follow orders.” Aubrey had to finish this. She’d failed enough.
“I’m going to make you salute and follow orders,” Josi said, surprising Aubrey. “We’re still in the army. We saw what happens when orders don’t get followed. And we need you, Rich.” Josi looked up at Aubrey. “Turns out the kid is a whiz with guns, too.”
“They’re machines,” he said, with a reluctant nod of his head.
“We can use a sniper,” Aubrey said.
Finally, Rich looked into her face. “Yes, sir.”
FORTY-SIX
FYODOR’S BODY WOULDN’T STOP TWITCHING. It felt like electricity was running through his veins—both sharp and dull pain at the same time. Every arm, leg, finger, and toe danced to a different deadly beat. Right now his fingers were flying, like he was playing the piano again—something he hadn’t done in years.
He could barely see anything, his eyes rolling back in his head involuntarily. He wondered if they even knew he was conscious. He wondered if he was, or if this was just a dream. He didn’t dream much anymore. He didn’t do much of anything anymore. He was a corpse, a hollow boy.
Something wet touched his useless right arm. He tried to bat at the sensation with his other arm, and though it felt like he was using all the energy and strength he possessed, he couldn’t make either limb obey him.
Pain pierced him, the all-too-familiar stab of a hypodermic needle. His neck turned sharply to one side, and then his teeth began to chatter.
He strained to see where he was, and he managed to get one eye open—just long enough for a mental snapshot of the room. But it wasn’t a room; it was the interior of the glider. He must have been too out of it to know he’d been flying.
He tried to speak, to ask where Zasha was, but the words came out as a garbled groan. For all he knew, Zasha was nearby, getting some much-needed sleep. That must be why they were using the glider—to give Zasha a chance to rest. It was probably too much to ask that she be there to meet him when the glider landed. He knew they had no future together. He knew he would be permanently damaged by the constant stream of drugs in his system. And Fyodor knew what General Gromyko had said. The army would use Fyodor until the war ended or Fyodor died.
Fyodor didn’t think he had much life left in him. And from the few snippets he heard, the Russians hadn’t broken through the American lines yet.
He tried to ask about her again. “Za . . . Za . . . sha.”
A deep voice spoke to him, but the words meant nothing. He felt like he was locked inside a dark, padded box, unable to move, speak, or hear.
Zasha, he thought. I will stay alive for Zasha.
FORTY-SEVEN
JACK LED THE GROUP, WALKING slowly in the low ditch beside a dirt road. He scanned everything ahead of them, his gun at the ready.
This entire area had seen artillery fire. It looked like some apocalyptic landscape: an abandoned grocery store with a plywood sign warning looters that someone was waiting inside with a shotgun. A gas station on the other side of the road that had exploded. A burned-down feedstore. They passed an Abrams tank on the road, its turret askew and acrid smoke pouring from the gap. Beyond it was an abandoned Stryker. Jack wondered if they would come across any other groups of soldiers on this road—crews or infantry teams.
With every step, Jack thought about how lucky he was to have Aubrey back. And with every step he thought of the man he had killed to get her. It had been so fast. So easy. That was the part that scared Jack the most—not that he was upset by the kill, but that he wasn’t. He had stabbed a soldier who couldn’t have been much older than himself, and it had been so simple, and so completely justified. It wasn’t supposed to be easy, was it?
He knew it hadn’t been easy on Aubrey. She fought on—she was a soldier, a warrior—but it ate her up inside. No matter how Jack looked at what he’d done, he couldn’t muster those same feelings.
“There,” he said, stopping and pointing. “The glider is coming in to land.”
He watched the dark shape descend right to the place where Josi had suggested. It wasn’t more than four miles away—maybe only three. Josi could tell them for certain, but he’d let Aubrey worry about that. He had to focus on the road.
“I think I can see it,” Josi said.
Rich and Aubrey just watched the darkness without saying anything.
“It might not be down very long,” Josi said. “Maybe it was losing altitude and needs to be towed back up.”
Rich spoke. “They have to give him a chance to sleep at some point, don’t they?”
“I don’t know,” Aubrey said. “But I agree with Josi. We ought to act like it won’t be down very long. Jack, can we go faster?”
He started walking again, and called back, “We can go faster. But I don’t know if we can go faster and stay safe.”
Suddenly, lights popped on all around them—the nearby house, a street corner, the lights on the abandoned Stryker. Jack ducked into the shadow of the ditch. Everyone was silent.
“Hold on, Jack,” Aubrey whispered, and he couldn’t hear her breathing anymore. She’d disappeared.
Jack scanned the horizon, over the lip of the road. There were lights on everywhere. The power was back on.
Aubrey was next to him. “Sorry. I thought we were getting ambushed.”
“So did I,” he admitted. “Power’s back on. I guess the lambda does take breaks. We’re not going to be able to stay on the road.”
“Agreed,” she said. “So where to?”
“You’re the boss, but tha
t tree line looks good. It’s going in our general direction.”
The trees seemed to follow another irrigation canal, off in the fields away from the road.
“Okay,” she said. “Lead the way.”
He raised his head up again, looking across the empty field to the house that stood beside it. He listened to the house, smelled the house, searched for any reason he shouldn’t use it as cover. But it was silent. He turned back, stood into a crouch, and motioned for the team to follow.
He ran as fast as his low posture would allow, darting to the side of the house and pausing there. It was a midpoint for them to regroup before the longer run to the tree line.
He heard a rumble.
“Everyone down,” he said, and he closed his eyes to listen. It was something big—a diesel engine coming toward them.
Then another engine joined it, the same size, though maybe a little older. And then another and another.
Aubrey popped her head up. “Even I can hear that,” she whispered. “We can’t stay here.”
“They’re all moving,” Rich said. “The Russians who were stuck because of the power outage. They’re all moving toward the front lines.”
Jack could hear engines everywhere now. There was a tremendous crash, and a burst of light flickered across the farmland.
“What was that?” Aubrey asked, a hand on her helmet.
“A tank shot at something. Maybe it was one of our guys, sitting and waiting for the power to come back on. Or maybe it was target practice on one of the empty vehicles.”
“Tanks will be coming down the road,” Aubrey said. “And probably through the field. Let’s get into this house. The infantry probably already checked this place and made sure it was empty.”
The front door of the house faced the road, and the back door faced the field. Josi stood up and smashed the glass out of a side window with the butt of her rifle. She reached inside and unlatched it.
“That works,” Aubrey said, and stood as Josi hoisted the window frame up and then used the drapes to brush the broken glass away from the sill.
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