The Destined

by E. J. Mellow

  There’s a moment of silent shock as the onlookers take in the new defense mechanism, and then, like a bad dream, a slow clap thumps from the speakers that line the city’s streets.

  We turn, seeking out the source.

  “Well played,” echoes out a familiar disembodied voice. “I see you’ve learned something about our lovely friends. And they say you can’t teach old dogs new tricks.”

  Dev and I lock eyes as I hold my body very still. If I don’t, I fear it will crumble. The sound of the man who tortured me, had me soak in my own filth and depravity, still has the power to fill my veins with icy fear.

  But one thought pushes through all that, the knowledge that Aaron is here, watching us, which can only mean…

  “The control room,” Dev says, turning to Minka. With a nod, she gathers three members of their team and sets off on a run.

  “Tsk, tsk,” Aaron tuts out, “do you really think I’ll be here when they arrive? You know better than to weaken your team like that, Dev.”

  Dev’s knuckles turn white as they grip his Arcus, the distant sound of the fight continuing around us as we stand listening to this madman.

  “Why don’t you stop being a coward and show yourself,” Dev calls out. “You’ve got us here, so let’s get on with it.”

  “How impatient you are,” Aaron muses. “If I were you, I’d want to prolong this moment with your love. But you were never good at appreciating what you have, were you?”

  “Dev.” I say his name gently. His nostrils flare, his breathing heavy, but his blue gaze meets mine.

  “What buildings connect to the Nursery’s control room?” I ask. “We should start there and work our way in. Cover any possible exit he might use.”

  Dev blinks a few times, lucidness returning, but right before he opens his mouth to answer, Aaron speaks again.

  “Since you all seem to be in such a hurry, why don’t I make this easier for you. You can find me at the Source,” he says, and a chill goes through me. This might be the first time I wish I wasn’t right about something.

  “And to make this more fun,” Aaron continues, “let’s time it, shall we?”

  Dozens of hovering monitors that line the streets switch on to display a red clock counting down from one hour. During our quick debrief of this outpost, I was told these were used for the students to get to and from classes on time.

  “I’ll also let you in on a little secret,” Aaron announces. “You’ll want to make sure you don’t let the clock run out, for this world will get more than a tardy slip when it does.”

  “It’s a trap,” Aveline says as we stand outside the large octagonal building that houses the Source. It’s a windowless beige structure with a flat roof, the center of which glows a bright blue-white. I could see it as we flew into the Nursery, nestled in the center of the compound, and the shape reminded me of the Pentagon, but without the hollowed-out center courtyard. Instead, a large condensed ball of Navitas, the sun to this world, occupies the middle under a glass roof. The streets here are quiet, the battle being fought against the Metus a far-off sound.

  “Of course it’s a trap,” Hector says, waiting for a Nursery guard to open the security door. “We just need to figure out what kind.”

  “How did he even get in here?” I ask, watching the complicated code being punched in followed by a prick of a blood sample and eye scan. The heavy metal door gasps open, revealing a long white corridor.

  “Unfortunately, you can obtain these methods of entry if you don’t mind the gore of getting them.” Dev glances at our guard again, specifically to his eye that was just pressed up against the scanner.

  I swallow. Gross.

  “I’ll need you to help evacuate the building,” Dev says to the young man. “Get everyone out, and quick.”

  “But what about—”

  “Turn on the auto incubator for the life pods,” Dev says to a woman in his unit, cutting off the young man. “The elders have given their consent.” Pulling a chip from a small pocket on his arm, he hands it to the Nursery soldier. “Check this document if you need to, but we only have forty minutes left, so if you’re going to do it, do it fast.”

  Dev ushers us inside, and the Nursery guard and the rest of his unit run in another direction to where I’m hoping they will start removing employees.

  Our group is now reduced to Tim, Hector, Aveline, Dev, and I, and we pass empty offices, the workers here having taken the initiative to leave on their own, as we head to a shuttle car that will take us to the center of the building.

  We’re all breathing heavy as the door dings shut and the train zips away. The dimly lit interior has two rows of sleek seating and a middle aisle for standing. Our group hovers by the door as light from the darkened tunnel flashes inside, becoming one stream of illumination with our speed. I catch Aveline watching Tim carefully, her constant concern for his health since the accident still apparent. Hector is cleaning his nails, but from the slight pinching of his lips, I can tell he’s thinking of far more serious things than a hangnail. I look at Dev. His scruff has grown a little longer over the past two Earth cycles, but his buzzed hair remains just as thick. His wide shoulders and height make the tram’s interior feel miniature as he stands holding a center pole, his Arcus in the other hand. I want to cross the aisle and go to him, feel his strong arms around me, but if I did, I don’t know if I could step away again. Sensing my attention on him, he glances up, and as we remain locked together, I’m nearly knocked backward from the intensity. He doesn’t have to say a word for me to know what he is silently telling me. He’s whispering endless words of reassurance, promising me a life away from all this, a life with him and the determination he has to get it. My throat tightens with my own desperation to believe it, to see it, and my grip on the handle I’m holding grows sweaty with my impatience to have it all now.

  It’s this look shared between us, this vow of our love, that I will recall many times later, a reminder that whatever ugly I come across, there is always that quick moment of quiet beauty that passes between two people.

  And as we step out of the tram, entering into the locked corridor outside the Source, I find myself using the memory of that moment for the first time. For it’s the only thing that can soften the sickening dread that runs across my skin as I glance down the hall to all the bloody bodies.

  — 44 —

  The thing about our love

  is we don’t need to be near

  to know its strength.

  —Part of a letter from Dev to Molly

  I’ve been in battle, watched as Nocturna and Vigil fall to the hands of monsters, covered in their mucus of hate until it burns their flesh to the bone and then resurrects them as the nightmares they feared. I’ve been in human wars, viewed through the eyes of my predecessors as men and women work like puppets to the same evil, fighting one another in a misguided cause for power and peace. But in all those instances, all that gore, I’ve never seen death for the pure pleasure of it, until now.

  “By the stars,” Tim whispers as we slowly make our way forward. Beside me Aveline gasps while holding her hand to her nose, trying to stave off the acute stench of iron in the air, all the blood.

  A cold sweat breaks across my exposed flesh as we carefully step over body after body. Quick sprays of bullets put down most of the corpses, a thinning of the herd, but bile rises in my throat as I gaze at the few who have been purposefully mutilated. Empty eye sockets puss crimson while Nocturna and Vigil arms lie broken, mouths hanging open in a last scream as slashes of lightning bolts are carved on cheeks and exposed skin, a torture for answers, a sick calling card for the Dreamer, for me. There must be at least fifteen bodies that cover the white tiled floor, slick with ruby puddles.

  “Why?” I hear myself asking, my body, in its shock, growing numb, desperate to detach.

  “Because he can,” Dev says, his voice tight as he moves closer to me.

  Because I can.

  Visions of Aaron’s gaunt face
hover in front of me, his manic smile and vengeful leer staring down right before his touch brings the only thing it can—pain.

  In my daze I bump into a nearby desk and reach out to steady a mug, the tea inside still warm and steaming. My stomach knots even tighter. How recently this place was filled with life, the buzz of employees doing their jobs.

  I shake my head to dislodge the illusion, a hand wiping through smoke, and force my gaze away from the slaughter. Little beeps from abandoned machines echo through the space, and even though I can’t see the Source, I can feel the overwhelming concentration of Navitas close by, the blue-white power that sits nestled like a fallen star, feeding the souls of Terra’s people who are still being created. From studying the map, I know this part of the building is made of up three rings, the Source at the core, which is wrapped with a special windowless titanium wall, another smaller hallway, and then where we stand, the monitoring circle. This area is wide with high ceilings and two rows of desks that line the walls and face a glass screen that travels the circumference. Energy readings fill some of the sections, red to blue heat sensory maps, while the majority now have the countdown clock.

  Thirty minutes.

  Thirty minutes left to figure out and fix this madman’s plan.

  It seems hopeless.

  “He shot the majority,” says Hector, breaking our mournful quiet. “And then must have tortured the rest until they gave him access inside.”

  The conclusion I came to as well and that explains the cut-out eyes and fingertips.

  “What do we do?” I look at our small group.

  “Ave, can you get us a feed to the inside?” Dev asks. “It would help if we can find his location. The Source may be one large room, but there are four ways to enter.”

  “He killed the cameras,” Aveline says as she fiddles with a nearby computer. “We’ll be going in blind.”

  Dev curses.

  “Maybe we should wait for backup,” Tim suggests.

  “We don’t have time for that.” Dev runs a hand through his hair and, after a second more of thought, says, “We’ll stick together and enter through the west entrance.”

  Falling in line, we leave behind the massacre and enter the smaller circular hallway, a smear of blood here or there marking Aaron’s path. Our pace quickens until we are all running toward the door that peeks out of the curved wall, and right before we travel the last bend, a blaring alarm sounds and a glass partition slams down. I skid to a stop right before I smack into it.

  “No!” Dev runs back and slams his fist against it, his voice muffled. I stand with Aveline and Tim, while Dev and Hector are on the other side.

  I watch Dev frantically search for a way to open it, but there’s nothing. We are separated, and whether this is Aaron’s doing or not, it no longer matters.

  I click on my earpiece. “Dev, look at me.”

  Worried blue eyes find mine. “We don’t have time. We’ll go to the south door and meet you inside.”

  His lips are pressed together, his brows bunching. “This doesn’t feel right.”

  “I know,” I say.

  Dev lets out a growl and looks away before saying, “Tell me when you’re at the door. We’ll time it to enter together. Tim”—he looks to his mentor—“you still have the overriding codes?”

  Tim nods, and then after one more beat, Dev takes in a deep breath looking my way. “Be careful.”

  “You too,” I say.

  “Don’t worry, Mols,” Hector chimes in to our moment, his smile oddly relaxed. “I’ll make sure your man doesn’t trip over his shoelaces on the way in.”

  “Shut it,” Dev barks before we both turn and run in the opposite direction.

  “Here!” Aveline says as we approach an identical metal door to the one we were heading to before. Bending down, Tim presses a button on the wall, and an eye, fingertip, and keypad, with the ancient Latin symbols, flip open.

  “Dev?” I say.

  Nothing.

  “Dev, we’re here. We’re about to enter.”

  Still nothing.

  I look to Aveline and Tim. Tim’s gray-tinted hair twinkles under the bright lights as he turns to read the clock on his wrist. Twenty-five minutes.

  Aveline gnaws on her lower lip. “Sometimes the high concentration of Navitas messes up our coms.”

  I nod, forcing myself to believe this rather than the hundreds of other possibilities, all of which aren’t good.

  “We have to go,” Tim says.

  “Yes.” I pull out my Arcus as Tim enters his override code. With a huff, the large titanium door cracks open, sending out a stream of bright light along with waves of energy.

  I take a step back. Whoa.

  “You good?” Aveline’s hazel eyes search mine, while the rest of her body is poised for battle, an arrow nocked, her moon-pale hair tied tightly back.

  “Uh, yeah,” I say, settling the new sensation within me. “This doesn’t bother you guys?”

  “Not like it would you,” she whispers as we inch forward.

  “I can’t see Aaron on this landing,” Tim says, peering around the door. “We’ll enter quickly and hide behind a balcony wall until we can find his location.”

  On his nod, we burst through, crouching to a stop at the balcony at the far end of the long ramp. There are three others like the one we’re on, connecting to the other entrances and stretching out to peer down at the Source in the middle. Even from my low position I can see the giant ball of Navitas below, the swirling light almost blinding as it fills the space. Its colors transition from blue to purple to gold, a myriad of shades that dance against one another, churning and turning around the core, an indistinguishable shade except for its hot brilliance, the center of a flame. I’m mesmerized as rivers of veins flow out to connect to thousands and thousands of small droplets, blue cocooned pods with children of various ages tucked into fetal positions—the people of Terra being created. They all circle the Source and go deeper than the eye can see, a bottomless well. And while this is all completely alien, it’s also breathtaking, almost to the point that I want to cry. The energy in this room is womb-like, motherly, pure and protective. It’s like a warm embrace, one that I never want to step back from. And just when I’m about to be overcome from the sensation of safety, of love, I see him, his dark figure bound and gagged, and the world around me explodes.

  Dev dangles from a Dreamer repellent rope right over the Source. The blue-white glow twists around his body, wrapping his neck and sending a sickly pallor to his ghostly white face. His nose is bleeding, and one of his eyes is swollen and slowly beginning to close.

  “DEV!” I stand, and just then a searing pain slices across my right bicep. Aveline tugs me to the ground.

  “Aaron’s armed,” she hisses, but I barely hear her, barely feel the sharp pain from my wound as warm liquid seeps through my shirt—the protective material keeping it from going too deep—because all I see is Dev’s hanging body, bruised face, and panicked gaze as it found mine.

  “How did he get Dev?” I practically shout. It’s impossible. Dev is strong, unbreakable. He can’t have been captured, can’t be dangling precariously over something that brought him life but now will surely kill him.

  “I don’t know.” Aveline’s voice cuts through my terror-stricken mind. “But we’ll get him out of this.” She grabs my hand, and I look at her. Sweat has crept across her brow, her jaw locked with determination.

  “Do you understand, Molly? We’ll get him out of this.”

  I nod numbly.

  “I can’t see Hector,” Tim whispers as he falls back to his knees after inching around the top.

  “Well, he’s somewhere,” Aveline says right before Aaron’s voice fills the room.

  “You all made it just in time,” he says, and we each peer around to see him standing on the balcony directly across from us, a gun angled straight at Dev. His dark pants and shirt are stained darker from blood that’s not his own, his dirty-blond hair greasy and st
uck across part of his forehead, and with a flash of red-hot anger, I take in the protective band adorning his arm, my powers useless against it. Still, I can’t help lashing out, practically growling when it does nothing more than hit a wall.

  “And with fifteen minutes to spare.” Aaron casually gestures with crimson-caked hands to two small silver balls stuck on either side of the arched room’s walls.

  “Collö,” Aveline curses.

  “What?” I ask. “What are those things?”

  “We use them to wipe out the Metus hives,” she says with a swallow. “They’re bombs, big ones.”

  So he truly meant to end it all where it begins, but then why hold Dev? Flinging out my powers again, I try to manipulate the rope holding him, but it just bounces back. My mind screams as it races for a solution. The controller, that’s the only thing that can manipulate this rope. My gaze runs over Aaron’s form. Where is it, you bastard? My hand curls around the Arcus with a realization. After spending all those days stuck with him, I know how he likes games, and this stinks of one.

  Standing, I ignore Aveline and Tim trying to tug me back down, ignore the dark figure that hangs between us and holds my heart. I ignore it all as I look straight at Aaron. He almost brought me down once. He won’t do it again. “What do you want?” I ask.

  “No hellos and pleasantries?” He chuckles. “And here I thought we had become such friends.”

  “What do you want?” I repeat.

  His head cocks to the side. “I want what I’ve always wanted,” he says. “For this world to stop pretending that their dead didn’t exist, that she didn’t exist. But maybe most importantly, I want him to pay,” he spits out while glancing down to Dev. “Once these go off”—he points to the silver balls—“Terra won’t be able to keep going like nothing happened. That is, if there’s anyone left to pick up the pieces.”

  “So you would kill yourself to get your revenge?” I ask.