Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles)

by Thoma, Chrystalla

  They ducked into a side street, their footfalls sounding way too loud in his ears. Whoever was up there had probably set up sentinels around the building. Had they been spotted?

  Gods, he hoped Cat had left the apartment, that he hadn’t been hurt.

  He dragged them on, barely aware of Alendra asking what in the hells was going on and Kalaes muttering about demons of the deep, until they reached a busy street market. Mingling with the crowd would conceal them.

  Kalaes cursed under his breath, his steps unsteady. Still not used to the pulsing colors and the change in perspective when Rex took over, or was there another problem? He had to ask him. Later.

  An eating booth came into sight and Elei zeroed in on it. A tarp kept out the chilly wind he barely felt. A tarp was good; it provided much-needed cover. He dragged the others behind it and shoved them onto a low bunk.

  “Stay low,” he whispered and slid next to Alendra, pushing his hands through his short hair, tugging. Oh gods, Cat. Was the furball okay? Had the Gultur killed him? Shit. How did this happen? How did anyone know where to find them?

  Kalaes sank down, his face pale. “Hot damn. This parasite’s killing me.”

  A chill went through Elei. “You’ll get used to it.” He’d infected Kalaes to keep him alive, and it had worked; that was all that mattered. Side-effects were unavoidable.

  Of course, Elei had carried cronion, relative of Rex, since he could remember. He was accustomed to its ways, its strength, its effects, to the alien passenger who took over the wheel whenever danger was afoot.

  Kalaes was now getting his first taste.

  People moved around the stall, a living wave, and Elei kept his face down, his heart hammering. The owner of the stall came around to tell them they had to order or leave, his mustache muffling his words, and Elei sighed. Adrenaline pounded in his veins and he didn’t think he could stomach anything.

  He slipped around the table and approached the counter, doing his best to keep his face hidden.

  The owner watched Elei from watery blue eyes as he asked for water and slices of blue algae bread. He brightened when he saw Elei’s coins. “I also have fried fish and K-blooms—”

  “No,” Elei snapped. K-blooms. Sugar. His mouth watered and Rex sent pangs through him, demanding he take them. No. “Just water and bread.”

  He counted out the dils and pushed them across the counter. Then he carried the water and bread to their bunk, feeling as if he had a target painted in red on his back.

  “How did they find us?” Alendra mumbled, taking a cup and downing the water. Her golden eyes flicked sideways, checking the other customers.

  “Probably someone recognized us.” Kalaes stopped rubbing his eye and took a piece of blue bread. He waved it in the direction of their building. “You heard what that girl said. Our faces are plastered all over town.”

  “Or someone from the meeting betrayed us.” Alendra stared into her empty cup.

  “Dain?” Elei shot Kalaes a questioning glance.

  “Dain wouldn’t do something that pissing stupid,” Kalaes said, but his voice held a smidge of doubt.

  “He thinks you abandoned him,” Alendra said softly.

  Kalaes frowned, fingers clenching on the bread, mashing it. “I didn’t, dammit. He knew where to find me. I sent him my address with Maera. He never came to visit.”

  They sat in silence, the market sounds rising around them like a wall, drowning the pulse drumming in Elei’s ears. Or maybe Rex was satisfied he wasn’t in any immediate danger and was letting up. A reprieve.

  Elei let out a breath. “Now they know we’re in town,” he muttered.

  “I wish we could move faster with the plan.” Kalaes observed the people milling about under lowered lashes. “We should get word to Mantis and Hera.”

  “Can we trust the others? Zoe and Mitt?” Alendra chewed on her lower lip, the cup shaking in her hand.

  The question of the day.

  “Mantis said he trusts them all,” Elei said.

  Alendra put her cup on the table and glared. “Well, I don’t.” She sighed. “We still have to meet with Hera’s contact, Iliathan. Since we’re destitute and on the run, we might as well get on with that and lie low until we meet with the gangs again tonight.”

  It sounded like a plan. Sort of.

  Elei stuffed the bread in his mouth and it tasted bitter, like fear.

  ***

  Iliathan was tall and blond, his lanky figure barely visible through the crack in the door. A blue eye stared at them suspiciously. “Hera’s friends, huh? She did say you’d drop by.”

  He motioned them inside the basement and draped himself over a chair in front of a grimy round monitor. He looked to be roughly Kalaes’ age, maybe a few years older. Golden stubble covered his chin and jaw, and his nails were bitten bloody.

  Kalaes closed and locked the door, then slouched against a wall, brows drawn together. He was uncharacteristically silent and Elei didn’t like how worried that made him.

  “So what do you want?” Iliathan drawled.

  “Hera said you can help us,” Elei said.

  Iliathan shrugged his bony shoulders. He wore a long cardigan, patched on the elbows, and faded green pants. “It depends.” He flicked a glance at Elei and grinned. “You’re the one she came looking for some weeks ago, aren’t you? That Eles kid. I found you for her.”

  Elei opened his mouth and closed it. He’d wondered how Hera had located him, though it all seemed like years ago. “Um, thanks.”

  “What do you need from me?” Iliathan fished in the cardigan pockets for a packet of ama cigarettes. Elei watched him, wishing for a cig to calm his nerves, but Iliathan didn’t offer and he didn’t want to ask.

  “So you’re the tech expert,” Alendra said. “Can you help us break into facilities, give us codes for control panels and so on?”

  “If you ask nicely,” Iliathan said, winking.

  Heat shot up Elei’s neck. He wanted to shove Iliathan away, wipe the smug expression off his face. Alendra was with Elei and...

  He frowned. And what? She’d kissed him. What did that mean? Was she his girlfriend? Were they together?

  Dammit, he should be thinking of other things. Like how to survive the day. Contact Mantis and Hera. Change the plan.

  “We have a list of places in mind,” Alendra said, leaning forward, eyes shining. “You could tell us which you could get us into.” She swallowed. “Please.”

  “Ah, see, that’s what I mean. Being nice.” Iliathan grinned, showing yellowed teeth. “Call me Ilia. And give me your list.”

  Alendra went to stand beside him. Leaning against his chair, she began running through the locations they had in mind, her voice crisp. Her blond head glowed in the light of the monitor and her sweater hugged the curves of her waist and hips.

  Elei shook himself and turned to Kalaes. “We need to talk.”

  Kalaes lifted a brow but let Elei draw him to the corner of the room. “What is it?”

  “Kal...” Shit, he wasn’t good at this but he couldn’t stand the knot in his chest any longer. “You promised you’d tell me if you were sick again.” Elei’s hands shook and he shoved them into his pant pockets.

  “Sick?” A frown darkened Kalaes’ face. “Who says I’m sick?”

  Elei opened his mouth and closed it again. “You... aren’t talking much,” he offered lamely.

  Hells. He wished Rex would take over, pouring adrenaline into him, but Rex always retreated when Kalaes was near. With Kalaes he felt safe.

  Silence stretched.

  Then the frown melted from Kalaes’ face. “So I can’t shut my big mouth for five minutes before you think I’m sick and dying?” He grinned, reaching out to ruffle Elei’s hair.

  Elei ducked just in time and glared. He knew Kalaes well enough to realize when he was avoiding an issue. “So you’re not sick, but...?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Yeah, right.” Elei glanced at Alendra’s silhouette
, cut in silver against the monitor’s glow. “Is it Dain? Bad memories?”

  “No, I... I’m good, fe. Honest to the gods.” Kalaes rubbed the back of his neck, and Elei wasn’t buying it for a second.

  “Then what is it?”

  “You won’t let up until you know, will you?” Kalaes rolled his eyes but didn’t seem overly put out. “I really am okay. Just having some troubles with Rex, that’s all.”

  If that was really all... Elei nodded, relieved. “Is it the double vision?” Kalaes had complained of nausea back at their building. “Is it making you dizzy?”

  Kalaes’ smile faded. “Okay, fine, I give in. The double vision is a bitch, but that’s not it. Hells, I thought I could beat this on my own, but maybe you’ve got some advice for me.” He made a wry face.

  Elei frowned, uneasy. Something else? What else was there?

  “The flashes.” Kalaes sighed. “On everything.”

  Elei blinked. “Flashes?”

  Tension returned to Kalaes’ face. “You know, when Rex starts reacting, pounding in my eye like a pissing machine gun, and the colors come.”

  Ah, the colors. Elei nodded encouragingly, finally on familiar ground. “And the sweeps? Red, orange, blue...” He trailed off at Kalaes’ wide eyes. Oh crap.

  “No clue what in the hells you’re talking about.” Kalaes’ voice shook a little. “I see red on people’s chests. When Gultur are out and about, I get these demon faces leering at me. Told you.”

  “Yeah.” Like on Hera’s face when she’d attacked them at Abydos. Elei swallowed hard. But then...?

  “I mean the bright flashes.” Kalaes waved a hand about, frowning. “Like a glow on things, like golden fingerprints, trails of them on a person’s skin, on the walls, the doors...”

  What? “Fingerprints?”

  “They look like it. Each trail is different, different color, texture, intensity... Hard to describe. You know what I’m talking about, right?”

  Elei turned away, tried to hide his shock. Okay, the doctor had said the bonding of Rex with a parasite other than telmion might develop differently, and Kalaes had palantin. It made sense his body would respond in another way.

  Right?

  But what did these flashes mean? Was it a good or a bad thing? Was it a useful power or a nasty side effect?

  And Kalaes was waiting for him to say he knew what it was and how to work with it, how to wrestle with it like he did with the colors.

  Not sweeps. Flashes.

  Hells.

  A loud bark of laughter from Iliathan saved Elei from having to answer. Kalaes arched a dark brow.

  “You’re frigging kidding me.” Iliathan snorted and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “This,” he tapped a grimy finger on the monitor, “could be a real problem.”

  “What?” Alendra’s blond head bent closer and Elei’s fists tightened.

  Dammit, relax.

  “They’ve upped the security level to nine. Recently, too, from the looks of it. Maybe even last night.” He tapped rapidly on the keyboard. “I think I have an idea...”

  Alendra shot Elei and Kalaes a worried look over her shoulder. A coincidence? No way.

  “Can you still get us inside?” she asked.

  “I can get you as close as possible,” Iliathan said. “I can override protocols and open up some gates.”

  Sounded fair enough.

  “So what’s the catch?” Kalaes went to stand next to Iliathan’s chair, eyes narrowed. “There’s always a catch.”

  “Yeah, well. Can’t see what’s going on inside the facilities.” Iliathan sucked air through his teeth. “Once you’re in, you’re on your own, pals.”

  Always. Was that supposed to be something new? “In which facility can you get us?” Elei asked.

  “The medicine factory on the east side looks feasible. Or the water treatment plant to the west, toward the mountains.”

  Elei exchanged a look with Kalaes who shook his head. Right, stick to the plan, trust no-one, not even Hera’s favorite informant.

  “Then be ready to get us into either one,” Elei said.

  He felt bad lying to Iliathan, making him work his ass off for something not needed. Neither of the two locations would be their target. Still. Hera had sworn this man was trustworthy, but Elei would rather let Kalaes call the shots on this one and they’d agreed that a false lead was needed in case anyone was keeping tabs on Iliathan.

  Consistent, be consistent. Never let your guard down. This was too important, and anyone could be listening in.

  “Either one. Oh man, honestly? You have no idea how much work that is.” Iliathan sighed. “Let me see if I’m not talking dogshit first. I need to check a few things. This may take some time.”

  Elei frowned.

  Well, they weren’t meeting the gang leaders until later. Might as well rest.

  He glanced at the room. It was bare apart from the table and the chair Iliathan occupied. As if reading his thoughts, Alendra looked around, too, and her slender brows drew together.

  Kalaes solved the problem by leaning against a wall and sliding down, hands hanging between his knees. Despite the grin he sent Elei’s way, he looked tired. “Well then, let’s catch a wink.” He waved a hand. “It’s not like we have a home to go back to, is it?”

  “And why are you so cheerful?” Alendra grumbled, settling next to him and stretching her legs.

  “We’re free, fe, when we could be in the regime’s hands. They didn’t catch us. That should count for something.”

  Joining them, Elei thought about that. Yeah, things could have been worse. Then again, they’d lost their apartment, their base, their safe place. Someone — probably Dain — had betrayed them to the regime and their plan was half-mad anyway.

  Things were worse already.

  ***

  “You have been compromised. Do not go south. Took them some time.” Hera’s chest seethed with a swirl of emotions — anger born of frustration, fear, and burning hate. “Damn them.”

  “Thank the gods for small mercies,” Mantis muttered.

  They were crossing one of the small towns of the northern coast, Megara, a detour but still heading toward the underground entrance, hoping to find another way through.

  Hera maneuvered the aircar through the narrow streets of the town center. “We spent four days at Istros, and they only found our trail now?” She tsked. “Regime intel is getting rusty.”

  Mantis raised a brow, amusement flickering in his dark eyes like a distant light. “I heard Gultur have a dry sense of humor, but hells, I never thought—”

  “On your left,” Sacmis hissed, grabbing the stabilizer lever, swaying in the co-driver’s seat. “Incoming.”

  “Hold on.” Hera swerved, ramming the vehicle into an alley and praying they’d fit.

  “We still have them at our backs.” Sacmis drew her longgun and stood, sliding the window panel open. “I’ll slow them down.”

  Mantis was already crouching at the back, aiming through a crack in the back window. “I’m shooting for their front engine.”

  “Mortals.” Sacmis scoffed. “I’m going for the driver.”

  Hera bit her lip, torn between laughing and groaning out loud. “Just slow them,” she ground out. “Don’t stop them.”

  They were the decoy, the red flag. Four other aircars carrying Mantis’ people were heading in another direction. He should have been with them; he was the leader of the resistance. He had to remain alive to end the war.

  But he’d said the most important thing right now was that Hera and Sacmis stay alive to lead the way to the war machine and find out how to operate it.

  And she was glad he was with her, so she could keep an eye on him. It gave her an illusion of control.

  Sacmis fired and cursed, drawing back.

  “Are you okay?” Hera gave her a quick once-over, relaxing when she saw no blood.

  “Fine. Missed.”

  Another shot rang from the back.

  “Mantis?
” Hera glanced at him through the rear-view mirror.

  “Got them.” He cocked his head to the side, tipped his gun toward the ceiling of the vehicle and grinned. “Get us out of here.”

  Hera did not need to be told twice. She drove into a broad street, slowed briefly, and took the lane going south, entering the stream of aircars and streetcars, her hands shaking on the lever.

  “And you get down,” Sacmis hissed at Mantis, “or a stray bullet might hit you.”

  “You’re just mad ’cause you missed and I didn’t.” He winked, his mouth twitching, but sat down nevertheless, the gun propped between his legs. “A lowly mortal getting the prize.” He clucked his tongue. “Worried?”

  “Beginner’s luck.” Sacmis sniffed and it made Hera smile. She knew Sacmis well, and knew it was all an act. She hoped Mantis knew it, too.

  At this crawling pace they’d be caught in no time. An opening to her right promised a way out of the street. She saw the military aircars driving toward them as she turned and she gunned the engine, cursing.

  “We need to lose them before we find the others,” Mantis muttered and Hera shook her head, her hair slipping from the bun at her nape and tickling her neck.

  As if she did not know. What did he think she was trying to do, go to the market for fresh bread?

  Clamping down on her temper, she sent the aircar zigzagging through the side-street, then shot onto an avenue and barely avoided a frontal collision with a heavy transport car. Still, the aircar grazed the air cushion and spun, wedging itself into the slow, north-bound lane.

  Dammit. Trapped. She scanned the buildings at the side, ready to take the next exit out of the avenue.

  Just to prove things could always get worse, another patrol car approached from the other side, and bullets rapped on the metal casing. Soon the rounds would penetrate, killing everyone — or they’d hit the air cushion and deflate it. This was no military car whose aircushions were protected.

  The small, private aircars at the front barely advanced. The oncoming lane moved fast, but patrol cars waited for them there. Yet she could see no side streets, no escape.

  Hera slammed her hand on the control panel.