Once I was on my feet the full extent of the blow took its toll, each one becoming stronger and stronger as we fought. Vertigo took over, I stumbled and fell to the ground hard enough for the air to leave my lungs in a whoosh because of the impact. There was no way my body could take much more of the onslaught. That much I was certain. Broken pebbles of asphalt dug into my palms and bare arms, only adding to the punishment being delivered. Fog came over my vision like a cloud, hazy and unclear, making it nearly impossible to make out anything. It snapped between sharp and obscure in second intervals. Even the sounds of my labored breathing were muffled and distant. What I could make out was one of the many abandoned cars lining the road on either side, some overturned. As John came out of the building and toward me, I clung to the hope that my power hadn’t abandoned me to death, if that was what was coming next.
In desperation, I pushed my energy out at the nearest car, an overturned mid-sized sedan, and grabbed it with the force only I could sense. I reached out with one weak arm and pushed more into it, the heavy metal vehicle moving, and then shooting in his direction. The car hit him dead center, pinning him between another car as the flying object caused pre-Wall telephone poles to fall to the ground. It shook as I watched blood spray from within his mouth and all over the windshield of the vehicle I had thrown at him. A part of me knew it wasn’t over. Could feel it as sure as I could feel the screaming agony throughout my entire body. This had to end now or it never would. He had asked for help before, but, with his blank stare, had become a killing machine on a mission, and each of us could tell what that mission was.
I reached out with my hand again and focused on him with the last bit of energy I had left as I bled onto the broken asphalt beneath me, each injury taking its toll. His molecules came into focus, something unknown moving within his body that I dared not try to stop and move outside of my scope of the situation. The unknown factor was too much at that moment and could wait until a time when death was not imminent. Forcing the energy into his body, I witnessed the atoms next and pushed them to do what my power was good for. Each of them began to move, the friction causing him to boil from the inside out, leading to the inevitable reaction. Moving faster and faster.
“Cook, you son of a bitch. Die!” I roared with everything I had left, my voice hoarse as I rose to my feet. My knees wobbled, but I managed to stay upright.
The influence faded, curling back into my gut as I lie there even though I attempted to keep it going as best I could. Nothing helped. Not even my will power that had served me so well in the past. The taste of iron came into my mouth, spilling from between my lips. This was the same reaction I had had in the forest before we crossed the wall after killing the Special that had intended to kill me instead of taking me in as King ordered. I had killed her in a way I had never done to anyone before, pushing my body so much farther than ever. And I was doing it again even though I was confident it couldn’t take any more punishment. Dropping to my knees, the energy it took for me to cause the reaction inside of his body snapped back into me like a rubber band. My focus faded as well as the image of his atoms in my mind.
Men dressed in military garb and massive rifles similar to the ones we had drawn came from the shadows of the abandoned city, walking toward me with caution. One foot in front of the other and eyes on me. Guns aimed at the center of my chest, red dots from the laser sites showing where each bullet they may fire would slice through me. I dropped my hand to my side and my vision blurred as they closed in.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
Chapter
EIGHT
I groaned as pain ricocheted through my entire body. Men continued to come toward me with guns drawn and pointed in my direction. Some rifles and some handguns from what I could see while I blinked past hazy vision.
“We got four others,” I heard come from one of their radios.
I turned my head back toward the building I had been launched out of twice, my vision blurring as I shifted my head. Through the hole in it I could see people coming out, but could barely make them out. With a couple more blinks I could finally see a sight that made me want to cry out in absolute terror. Even more soldiers had my companions in their sights and were leading them out to where I knelt on the ground. Julius’s face contorted in agony as he was forced to hold his broken hands over his head. Blood dripped down his arms and off his elbows onto the ground in small rivulets. A soldier shoved the barrel of his M-16 into his back and pushed him along. Jameson followed behind, his jaw hanging awkwardly and the portion just below his ear damaged from what I could only assume was a broken jaw. Behind them came Ryder, and I watched helplessly as the love of my life limped toward me and cradled his left arm against his ribs. My mother was beside him, relatively unharmed.
The soldiers howled with laughter at their success in capturing those in charge of the rebellion, their ruse, and setting the perfect trap for us where others had failed before. As they neared my position before the military men situated to my left, one soldier pushed his foot out and tripped Ryder, who then fell into my mother. They collided with the ground painfully, which only made the men laugh even harder.
I attempted to sit up, my body feeling heavy like a lead weight and agony poured through me as my injuries took hold. Dizziness caused the world to spin slightly. It righted itself as I shifted again, but then blinding pain in my left temple erupted, and I literally saw stars as the butt of a rifle met my skull. I fell back down to the ground, barely able to keep the other side of my head from hitting the broken asphalt.
“Don’t move, you little bitch,” came a voice I had never heard before that moment. Heavy footsteps closed in on us and came into my line of sight, black military grade that I had seen a number of times now. We even wore ones that were similar. “Delveccio, check on Baker. Get him on his feet, you hear me?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” one soldier replied, and then walked away from the group and toward the car I had smashed into the man who had been sent to kill us with.
My mother and Ryder were both jerked to their feet at the presence of what I could only assume was a high ranking military officer. The pair of boots beside my head moved to stand before those of my mother and, as I looked up, I watched their interactions. It was obvious they knew each other, but now I was left to wonder at to what extent. The look of hatred and disdain that twisted her features seemed to tell me so much without saying a word at all.
“Korvin,” she greeted. Her voice was filled with ice as she sneered up at him.
“Horatia. Never thought I would see you again,” he replied.
When he looked down at her all she could see there was pure hatred. There was a reason behind it, I knew that, but decided to tackle one thing at a time. At that moment, that would be survival and escape.
“Believe me, this does not make me happy at all to see you,” my mother practically spat at him.
“You always were a stuck-up bitch, Horatia.”
Disgust twisted her features even further. “And you have always been a fool. A mindless, crude, disgusting fool.”
“You wound me. Boy, oh boy. Though President King will be so happy to have you and your daughter in our custody.”
Korvin glanced at the soldier next to me and I was jerked to my knees by rough hands, my knees grinding on small pieces of broken asphalt. The thick cargo pants did nothing to protect my flesh from the sharp points of rock. I felt my skin split open slightly and a drop of blood from each invasion soak into them. Then, without so much as a word, darkness took over as a bag was shoved over my head, obscuring my vision so all I could make out were faint and hazy shapes.
“Maybe he’ll be so happy to let some of my boys have her for a few rounds,” Korvin taunted.
“You fuck,” Ryder shouted.
A blur of movement was all I could make out and then the thud of someone hitting the ground. From what I could tel
l, Korvin had moved out of the way and hurt Ryder before he fell to the ground. The only reason I knew it was him at all was the pained grunt as he collided with the blacktop.
“Now, now son, don’t take it personal. I’m sure you won’t get all high and mighty now are you, Ryder? See son, you and your little girlfriend have killed some good men in this country’s military in your terrorist activities.”
None of it could have been farther from the truth, and I knew that we would be painted as terrorists if King’s regime beat us out. That much was certain. There was the slap of a leather boot on flesh and bone, and then the sound of someone hitting the ground again. But I could barely make anything out, only being able to see through the bag that Ryder was now on his back, but not how he had ended up there.
“So don’t try to get all tough guy when I discuss a little bit of payback her way,” the man named Korvin said, his voice barely muffled by the black bag they had slipped over my head to keep me from seeing. They had to have known an important part of my power was being able to see what I projected the energy toward, but I wasn’t completely certain. Regardless, the near darkness caused anxiety to move through my entire body, causing me to sweat profusely because of that as well as the pain.
“You’re a pig, Matheson,” my mother growled.
Then there was the unmistakable sound of her spitting in the man’s face. Inside I was silently rooting for her. Even remotely seeing the rough and tumble side of her that she never exposed me to as a child made me feel oddly proud in a way. The man laughed maniacally, and I could imagine him wiping my mother’s saliva off his face with the sleeve of a shirt or military jacket. Maybe even the palm of his hand, if nothing else.
“You know, Horatia, you would be just an extra if I took you back. Your death, though? I sure as fuck don’t think that would matter much to the President. Not in the slightest. Mr. Smallman, show this traitor what this country does to those that betray it.”
“With pleasure, Commander,” another soldier who I had never heard speak up until that moment replied.
The sounds of metal on fabric met my ears. After that all there was, was the sound commotion and screams, hinting at the possibility of combat taking place all around me that I could barely see. I strained to hear the sounds of my people hitting the ground, but no familiar voices of those I loved and knew came to be as I kneeled there waiting for the moment I would be free of the black hood.
“What in the fuck?” Korvin shouted.
More noise followed as the soldiers guarding me cried out in pain and fell to the asphalt beside me. Gunshots rang out and even more bodies fell to the ground. More than I had estimated to be there. Not that my vision was exactly reliable considering the haze moving over it because of the assault on my body as well as the black bag they felt they needed to place over my head. Paranoia made its way through me because I couldn’t see, knowing something important was happening that could mean the end of my life and the end of the war we had just begun to fight.
Without so much as a warning, I felt someone grab the top of the black bag on my head and pull up, revealing the graying sky above and brown eyes surrounded by dark flesh, the eyes wide with not only terror but importance. The man who called himself John Baker stood in front of me, leaning down to look me in the eyes. Confusion wrapped itself around my mind like a thick blanket I couldn’t find my way out of, but I didn’t have time to ask questions.
“Get the Hell out of here! I’ll buy you some time! I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear…”
A hiss left from between his clenched teeth, but I could barely see past his broad chest and wide shoulders. That was until Korvin’s face appeared above him, his arm slashing out with a combat knife. I fell backward onto my backside at his appearance, grunting in pain as insults were thrown.
“What in the fuck is your major malfunction, Baker?” Korvin asked John, his face etched with anger and frustration.
John blocked his next attack as I rose to my feet as quickly as possible, nearly stumbling backward again. He punched the man, causing him to stagger, but I didn’t stop moving, even as I heard him sling another blatant racial slur toward John, letting it hit the others as well.
“You goddamn apes, don’t you let those traitors escape!”
The others were on the ground around me, but Ryder was attempting to stand as a soldier came toward me. I sent an elbow into the soldier and unleashed a small portion of my power to launch him as well as the other three that decided to step in flying clear across the broken street toward the shattered building that resulted from our battle. I approached the rest of my team, taking in each of them as quickly as I could, taking inventory of their injuries just enough to get us out of the abandoned city. There were soldiers in the way of my team, but, seeing John in action, I was in awe.
I heard John scream out as Korvin stabbed him in the stomach, but then, in one swift action, he gripped the commander’s wrist and twisted it. His body followed the movement of his wrist to keep it from breaking entirely. John followed it with a perfect throw once Korvin’s knee touched the ground. Shouts pulled my attention back to my team. More soldiers rushed toward me. Energy unfurled from my gut in a rush of vibrant heat and toward my hands. I sent it out in their direction, and they flew as my invisible hands hit them in full force.
From what I had seen, Julius’s hands were badly broken, Ryder had a broken rib and maybe a sprain at least, my mother was uninjured, and Jameson suffered a broken jaw. All things I hoped the Fallen Paradigm could repair quickly. I only wished Daley and Rickson had made it.
Jameson grunted in pain, but he helped my mother slowly pick Julius up off the ground as I watched their backs for an attack. Ryder and I seemed to spot the same military grade sedan that some of these men came in at the same time, and I was certain I could get it to work with my power somehow. Ryder opened the back driver’s side door and moved out of the way, watching the action behind me as I ushered my mother and the two injured men to the vehicle.
“Go! Go! Everybody in! Let’s get the Hell out of here!” Ryder shouted the command, causing all of us to move a little bit faster.
All except for my mother who stopped, leaving Jameson to carry Julius the rest of the distance to the car.
“Wait,” she said as she turned toward me and watched John Baker in action behind me.
I was beyond ready to get out of there and, while I was interested in the show as well, getting out alive was more important than anything else. I grabbed her arm as she took a step to my right and looked her in the eye.
“No time. We need to get out of here,” Ryder said as he guarded the two men’s backs while they slid into the sedan.
He placed his hand on her arm in a firm grip that mirrored by own. Pushing her toward the vehicle, his green eyes met mine, and there was a moment of perfect understanding as well as fear for each other’s safety.
“He’s right, Mom, we have to go!” I yelled over the noise of combat as I sprinted to the passenger side of the sedan.
In one swift motion, I opened the door, got in, and closed it behind me. From what I could see within just milliseconds, there was no key left inside of the ignition, and it was one of the fancy cars that only the rich could afford. This typically meant that it didn’t need a key and that the key was only used in case the computer system with the fingerprint scanner at the number three position of the steering wheel went out. I had never been in one, so I barely recognized it. There was only one way I knew of to start this car without the key, so I decided it would be the best way to go. I pushed a small amount of energy into the ignition switch and turned the starter, the car starting with a roar.
“There’s nothing we can do now, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Ryder’s gruff voice shouted.
Ryder climbed into the driver’s seat as the rest of the team scooted across the back, Julius being caref
ul not to touch anything with his shattered hands. The sedan purred and rumbled around us as my mother looked through the back window and at John one last time before we took off. All I could see as Ryder put the car into drive and pressed his foot on the gas was John being stabbed one more time by who I now knew as Korvin, screaming in agony.
The car took a sharp left, bumping from the broken blacktop that we rode across as well as bricks and rocks and other debris. I turned in my seat to look at Ryder as he drove, wincing in pain with each time the car jumped.
“I think you’ve got a broken rib or two,” I explained as I reached forward and pressed along his ribcage to assess the damage.
Within a moment I had found them, the fractured bones poking slightly outward, but not puncturing the skin. He startled and hissed in pain.
“Sorry, sorry,” I apologized. “Found them.”
I smiled up at him weakly, but he didn’t see it.
“Yeah, I felt it,” he replied. “We’ll set them once we’re back at the Fallen Paradigm. No big deal. I can handle the pain just fine.”
“You sure?” my mother asked. “I can guide Mila on how to set them from back here, or we can stop, and I can do it.”
Ryder glanced at her in the rearview mirror and scoffed. “No, it can wait. Let’s just get out of here, huh?”
“Okay,” I relented, watching him carefully as I leaned back in the seat. I then turned to speak to my mother who was sitting in back looking down at her hands as if ashamed of something. “Mom, what the Hell was that back there? Who is this John Baker and what is he?”
The Scorned (The Permutation Archives Book 3) Page 9