Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles)

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Rex Aftermath (Elei's Chronicles) Page 4

by Thoma, Chrystalla

“To your right,” Sacmis snapped and leaned Hera’s backrest to aim through the window. A shot rang, deafening, and Hera jerked forward, sending them crashing into a tall streetcar. Pain bloomed on her temple and she fought to clear her darkening vision.

  “Hera!” Mantis’ voice was barely audible over the ringing in her ears. He was suddenly at her side, pushing her upright. There was no sound, but she read the words on his lips: “Are you okay?”

  “Seen better days,” she grumbled, her headache ratcheting up to a crescendo of drums behind her brow. A fire burned in her left eye.

  He shoved her lightly. “I’ll drive,” his lips said.

  She nodded.

  Sacmis leaned into Hera’s line of vision and dragged her to the co-driver’s seat. Placing both hands on Hera’s cheeks, she checked her eyes.

  “I am not concussed,” Hera said, not even hearing her own voice. She was not dizzy or nauseous, and her vision was clear. “Make sure he does not wreck the aircar.”

  Sacmis grinned, her gray eyes twinkling, obviously pleased with Hera’s snark. “You do that, senet. I need to cover our asses.” She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry I almost burst your eardrums. They were about to shoot you. I had to act fast.”

  Hera nodded and, Nunet’s snakes, her head hurt. She had no doubt Sacmis had done it to save her. “Of course.”

  Since when had she lost all doubt?

  Sacmis trailed her fingers down Hera’s neck. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Maybe.” She missed those cool fingers when Sacmis moved away, to the back of the car, longgun in hand.

  Hera leaned back, a hand on her throbbing face, watching as Mantis put the car into reverse, then jiggled it back and forth. She frowned, and it hurt. “What in Sobek’s name are you doing?”

  “Escaping.”

  Well, at least sound was returning.

  Sacmis cursed from the back, her gun cylinder scraping on the window frame. “Will you stop this dance, mortal? I cannot take aim if you keep swinging back and forth.”

  Mantis stuck his tongue out at her, still playing with the controls. “I’m stuck with two grumpy Gultur. Gods have mercy.” He reversed again, the aircar lurching and hitting the car behind them.

  “What are you doing?” Hera leaned forward, dimly wondering if her head would burst with the pressure, and made a lunge for the steering lever. “You’ll get us killed.”

  “Sit tight.” He bared his teeth in a sharp grin. “I’ve got this under control.”

  “The hells you do.”

  Before she got a grip on the lever, he accelerated, turning the aircar sharply, knocking into yet another vehicle — although, at this point, that was the least of Hera’s worries — and veered into the opposite lane. Then, before she had a chance to shout a warning about the silver aircar rushing onto them, Mantis twisted the lever and turned the aircar a hundred and eighty degrees, pushed the accelerator button, and shot away in the direction from which they’d come.

  Passing the patrol cars.

  Leaving their pursuers far behind.

  Stunned, Hera blinked at the free expanse of the south-bound street ahead. “Sobek,” she whispered.

  “Not too shabby, huh?” Mantis winked, a little wild-eyed, his cheeks flushed and his hands trembling oh-so-slightly on the levers.

  Hera swallowed hard. “No,” she agreed. “Not too shabby.”

  He’d driven clumsily. He was not very experienced as a driver, and he was quite reckless.

  Also decisive, able to judge a situation in the spur of a moment, his thinking flexible.

  She brooded on this, her fingers wrapped tight around the grip of her gun, as they sped toward the outskirts of the town and their meeting point with the others.

  He was so... different from her. A lot as she’d expected. And full of surprises, too.

  “We’ll make it,” he said, seeming to take her silence as worry. Which it was. About many things. “You’re concerned about Elei and the others, aren’t you?”

  She nodded, a little ashamed she had not thought about them since they’d left Istros. “They cannot reach us anymore.”

  “I’ve left an automated message in case they call.”

  He’d thought of that even as they’d evacuated the hospital and organized their escape. Impressive.

  Hera squirmed, uncomfortable with the feeling. Awe? For Mantis? In her memory’s eye, he was still a skinny kid leading a small gang, fearless and full of ugly truths that he’d throw at her, mindless of her gun and position.

  Why was she impressed now? He’d always been something else. Driven. Smart. Ready to give up everything for his cause.

  And his people. He’d stood in front of her, ready to take a bullet for his gang even back then.

  Had he really thought of everything? Hera eyed him. “What about the electric pillars in the sea?”

  “You were right. Their function seems to be protective. They can be turned on around the island of Dakru to stop an invasion from the sea, but also to prevent passing over the bridges.”

  Excitement danced like electricity on her nerve endings. “Did you find out how to operate them?”

  “Well, this is where it gets tricky.” Mantis turned into a side street in silence and Hera kept her mouth shut, eyes darting right and left, checking the rear-view mirrors for possible signs of pursuit.

  “Tricky, how?” she finally prompted when they’d made it to the connecting road between towns.

  “Some pillars are out of order. Some have been switching on and off like broken store signs.”

  Hera pressed her lips together. She’d never forget how one such electric pillar had almost killed Sacmis three years back. That had been the day Hera’s eyes had been opened to the truth of her world.

  “You have not answered my question,” she said. “Have you found a solution? Can we use the pillars?”

  “Leave that to me, lady.” His dark eyes were now serious and opaque, hiding secrets. “Concentrate on finding the war machine. I’ll protect Dakru.”

  “You sound so sure.”

  “I am.”

  Hera cut him a sharp look. “Why?”

  He shook his head. His youthful face was lined with fatigue. A dark bruise marred his arm below the elbow. As well as the thin white line on his chin, he sported more scars, old and new, on his hands and face.

  “I know my people.” A flame lit in his eyes, shining from inside. His brows knitted, shading his gaze. “They’ll make it work.”

  In spite of her doubts, she swallowed her knee-jerk sarcasm. She believed him. May the gods help her, she trusted him to get it done and save them all.

  Chapter Three

  Elei sat with his back against the cold wall of Iliathan’s basement and watched him tap on his keyboard for what felt like years.

  The room was warm and Kalaes was snoring softly, arms crossed and dark head bent. Alendra had curled up on the floor like a kitten. Elei wished she’d curled up against him, but didn’t know if he was supposed to move to her side. He wished she’d take the lead, like she’d done at the bar in Istros, let him know what she wanted, what he should be doing.

  He felt lost, the only thing clear in his mind the need to touch her and hold her. She was only a few feet away but she might as well be beyond the blue horizon.

  His chest felt tight. Come to think about it, his eye throbbed. He rubbed it. Throbbing like hell, in fact, but no colors flaring, so why?

  Kalaes stirred, raising his head. He grimaced. “Ow, five hells,” he muttered. “My eye. Damn parasite.”

  Pressing his mouth thin, Elei got up and checked the high windows for any shadow, listening for any sound. Iliathan was hunched up in front of his monitor, half-dozing. The room was closed, the air stuffy, heavy with their breath. Maybe that was the reason Rex had stirred.

  He waited, listening. Something else... Ah, there it was. A slight buzzing reached his ears. With it, the room burst into neon colors.

  Helicopters overhead. Hells. Elei drew his
Rasmus, his head pounding, his mouth dry.

  “What’s going on?” Kalaes climbed to his feet, gaze sharpening. “Are we under attack?”

  “Don’t know,” Elei ground out, catching a pulse of red from the corner of his eye. Alendra’s chest. She was sitting up, a hand on the grip of her gun.

  Another pulse, another heartbeat: Iliathan, who got up, his eyes round.

  “What’s up, guys? What are you doing?” He scratched an armpit, then caught sight of the gun in Elei’s hand and froze. “The hells?”

  “Dammit,” Kalaes breathed, but instead of drawing his gun, he clapped a hand over his possessed eye. He jabbed a finger at Iliathan, then took a staggering step back. “You’re flashing these weird fingerprints. Why are you flashing?”

  Elei waited for Rex to sweep the room, but the buzzing outside was growing fainter. “I think it’s time to move.” Because if those had been helicopters, they might simply be setting down nearby.

  “We can trust you, right?” Alendra stared at Iliathan who was running a shaky hand through his shaggy hair.

  “Yeah, girl, you can trust me. I’ve been with the Undercurrent from the start. Didn’t Hera tell you?”

  Kalaes shook his head and staggered. Alendra gave a curt nod, and Elei supposed that would have to do. With Rex still humming along his nerves, it was hard to trust in anything.

  “Just tell me when you’re planning to attack,” Iliathan said, turning from one to the other. “And I’ll have everything ready.”

  “Tomorrow night,” Elei said and the three of them trooped to the door. “But we’ll let you know if there’s a change in the plan.”

  “Be careful,” Iliathan said.

  Kalaes dragged Elei to the door, and they slipped out into the shifting shadows of the evening. Alendra’s hair shimmered like silvery spiderwebs as she stepped into the street. She pulled her hood up, hiding it.

  No helicopters. No danger. Safe. The street was quiet, a beggar at the corner dozing among piles of trash.

  “This way.” Kalaes uncovered his eye but squinted and grimaced as if the faint light of a distant lamp post hurt him. “Put away that gun, fe.”

  Elei slid the Rasmus back into its holster and told himself to take deep breaths. It was difficult with Rex still pounding inside his skull.

  Get it together.

  “Let’s go,” Alendra said.

  Elei drew his hood over his face and followed their dark forms as they hurried through the dark streets, heading vaguely south. He limped only slightly, the adrenaline taking the edge off the pain in his deeply scarred thigh.

  Cold wind whistled. Aircars rumbled by, their engines hissing and spitting. A cat strolled lazily along the shuttered store fronts, reminding him of Cat, twisting his stomach into a knot of worry.

  No pursuit. No patrols.

  Was that why Rex wasn’t letting up — worry? Rubbing his throbbing eye, he forced himself to slow, not to run. Everything’s fine, Rex, damn you. Just...stop.

  They entered a street where a few aircars were stationed. Another cat was approaching, tail held high like a flagpole. Elei twisted to look at it, thinking he saw blue slitted eyes.

  Yeah, they were blue.

  Elei hissed and drew his Rasmus. Danger. Cats were amassing, purring and vibrating like generators. The cold breeze blew his hair out of his face, bringing with it a sweet smell.

  Gultur.

  “Run!” he shouted, sprinting toward the others, colors jumping from every surface, the buildings, the aircars, the asphalt. “They found us.”

  “This way,” Kalaes yelled, jerking Alendra along toward a side street, his own gun already out. The humming was back and he saw the source of the sound.

  Dammit, not helicopters; military aircars, a sleek and glittering model he’d never seen before.

  “Down!” Kalaes shouted and Elei dived to the ground before the echo of the word had faded, trusting Kalaes and Alendra to do the same.

  Bullets zipped overhead before the rat-a-tat-tat of machine guns burst through the quiet, pressing into Elei’s eardrums like a drill.

  The bullets had barely stopped flying when he was back on his feet and running. Who had betrayed them? Iliathan? Or Dain? He bent, grabbed Alendra’s arm, glanced at Kalaes who was scrambling up, and took off again.

  “What...?” Alendra panted. “How?”

  Exactly his thoughts.

  “Follow me,” Kalaes said and veered into an alley.

  “Sure?” Alleys were sometimes dead-ends.

  Alendra stumbled, dragging Elei down. He steadied her with an arm around her waist and she leaned into him, her body shaking.

  “I know my city,” Kalaes grunted and turned, grabbed Alendra’s other arm, and nodded at Elei.

  Together they lifted her to her feet and set off running. They ran as if the hounds of the fifth hell were snapping at their heels, down the alley and into a covered passage, then out into an avenue and into another alley, back out and into a broad street with shops, then another alley, and Kalaes slowed until they came to a staggering halt.

  Alendra slid to her knees, then all fours, panting, a bright outline with a beating heart.

  Elei stayed on his feet although his legs trembled, trying to listen above the rushing in his ears. The alley pulsed with colors. Rex swept it over and over, picking up organic residues in the trash that danced in the rising wind. It had to be cold, but Elei couldn’t feel it, his body vibrating with tension.

  No, no sound other that their harsh breathing. Had they shaken off their pursuers? Kalaes unslung his gun and turned in a circle, then gestured at the busy street beyond. “We need to cross into the seaside quarters. The festival of Helios has started. There will be crowds to get lost in.”

  Festival. Elei blinked, dazed. Somewhere, somehow, people went on with their lives, ignorant of the rising undercurrents until they were ripped away.

  In Elei’s experience, sooner or later everyone was.

  Another sound penetrated the fog filling his head, and his heart jolted in his chest. Helices whirring. They had sent helicopters, after all. Rex sent another pang through his heart, heightening his senses until every smell, every sound and color was painfully clear.

  Yeah, yeah. Sorry I doubted you.

  Elei scanned the alley. No time to cross the street, lose themselves in the crowd. Too late. Yeah, some things never changed.

  The buzzing rose to a crescendo, subsonic waves making the windows of the buildings vibrate, his teeth ache.

  A round shape set in the street caught his eye, flaring a cold blue in his tainted eye: metal. A sewer lid.

  He grabbed Alendra’s hand, hauled her up in one movement, lurched sideways and clasped Kalaes’s arm, spun them around.

  “What are you doing?” Kalaes resisted. “We should run.”

  “No time.” Elei dragged them to the sewer entrance, let them go and dropped to his knees, working to get the lid off.

  After a frustratingly long moment, the other two came to help. They pried the lid off with fingers and nails, until it rose off its rusty frame with a creak.

  And not a moment too soon. Something smashed into the wall behind Alendra and she gasped, her face going white.

  Bullets. Damn.

  “Get down there, quickly,” Elei said, rolling the lid off, setting it aside and drawing his Rasmus. “I’ll cover you.”

  Alendra didn’t argue, thank all the gods, just turned and grabbed the rail of a moldy ladder, descending into the darkness below.

  “You next,” Kalaes barked, reaching for Elei as if to grab and throw him down the vent. Then he jerked as bullet smashed into a wall. A second later, plaster and concrete rained over them. Kalaes hunched over. “Shit.”

  “Kal?”

  “I’m okay.” But his jacket gaped open, allowing a glimpse of bright red blood spreading on his t-shirt.

  Hells. Fear left Elei gasping. “Dammit, Kal.” The pulsing colors were blinding, the fresh blood on Kalaes’ shirt flickering lik
e a beacon. More bullets zipped past his ear, and his mind blanked, leaving one thought running in a loop: get Kalaes to safety. “Go, now! I’m right behind you.”

  A hesitation, but the expected comeback didn’t come. Kalaes nodded and lowered himself inside the vent, his wide shoulders barely fitting, his silence throwing Elei even more off-balance until his heart boomed fit to break out of his ribcage. Just how badly was Kalaes hurt?

  Wind currents ripped around him, tearing his jacket open. His hair whipped Elei’s face as he laid the lid aside and glanced into the sewer, seeing Kalaes’ head vanish in the dimness.

  Bullets sprayed, hitting the asphalt and sending the lid skittering away with a screech. Elei snatched at it and missed. Screw it, he’d have to leave the vent uncovered. He turned to the gaping hole, bent to lower his legs inside—

  Something slammed into his back, throwing him face down on the asphalted street. He writhed, unable to breathe. Darkness rose in a glittering wave and pulled him under.

  ***

  “No, I don’t know what the hells is wrong,” Kalaes was whispering above Elei’s head. “Can you see blood?”

  “It’s pitch in here, how am I supposed to see anything?” Alendra’s breath caught on the last word as if on a sob. “You’re the one with the super vision. Dammit, Kal.” Her cool hand brushed Elei’s mouth, then his cheek. “I think he’s breathing. Is he? Can you tell?”

  Elei wanted to move, reassure her, but even lifting his hand was hard. Scratch that, locating his hand was hard. He couldn’t feel his body. He tensed, jaw tightening, and managed to twitch his fingers.

  “Ale?” he breathed and regretted it as pain crushed his chest. Ow. Damn.

  “Elei? What happened?” Kalaes appeared in his line of vision — at least a vaguely Kalaes-shaped silhouette, backlit with greenish light.

  Phosphorescent fungi on the wall of... Elei strained to see beyond. A tunnel. He struggled to remember how he’d gotten there. He recalled running, and bullets. Helicopters. Then blackness.

  “Don’t know,” he mumbled. Even his face hurt. He licked his lips and tasted blood and gritty dirt. “Head hurts.”

  “He must’ve hit it,” Alendra said.

 

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