The Escape

by Teyla Branton

  As we approached the table, a boy barely in his teens spat on Brody. “Dirty scum,” the boy shouted. The older man next to him thumped him on the back with approval. Several others murmured encouragement.

  These men had families, wives, and children. Many, I knew, would be appalled at similar inhumanities around the world, but for Unbounded their hatred saw no reason. How many of our people had been murdered here? Sacrificed upon this altar? Next to me, Jace’s emotions boiled.

  Two older men sat behind the podium, their gray heads bowed together as they conferred. One wore a black suit while the other sported jeans and loafers topped by a blue plaid shirt. Black suit was thin and wiry, while blue plaid was tall and thick and looked as if he’d eaten far too many sweets. I pushed my thoughts toward them.

  “Time to bring out the knives,” said black suit.

  His companion nodded. “Better tell everyone only one cut, so make it count. Mine will be first—his tongue.”

  Keene was still pulling me forward. I looked around to see Ritter staring after us with the blue eyes of someone I didn’t know—a mask created by Oliver. Keene wove us through the Hunters until we stood near Brody’s face. His frightened eyes widened further.

  “You!” he said. “You stabbed me!” He tried to arch away, but the ropes held all but his head in place. The lights overhead blinked. I could feel energy transferring from them to Brody. Too much. He was already filled to near overflowing, and if he were to somehow ignite what he’d gathered, I doubted any of us would make it out alive.

  So much for my flimsy disguise. I pushed into Brody’s mind, his barrier long forgotten with his fear. Shut up, you idiot. Your father sent us. Now calm down. You see that glowing energy? You’re gathering too much. Stop it, if you can. I’m not sure how you can expel it without blowing yourself into a million pieces, and believe me, there’s no coming back from that.

  I saw in his mind how he was gathering the energy, and it was exactly like the way we absorbed nutrients from the air. Mimicking the flow, I pulled it from him toward myself.

  “What are you doing?” Brody screamed.

  “Ha,” said one of the Hunters near Brody’s head. “He seems to be scared of this woman.” She should take the first cut.” He brandished a knife.

  “Thanks, I’ve got my own.” I continued to siphon energy from Brody, and as I did the tension in his body relaxed slightly. Too late I realized that, unable to channel two abilities, I was no longer masking Jace. Luckily, Jace was calm enough for the moment, and his disguise adequate.

  Look, I said to Brody. There are nearly two dozen people here wanting to cut you into little pieces and only six of us to save you. Do exactly as I say. And please don’t answer out loud. If you think something, I can see it while I’m in your head.

  The energy humming in my veins reminded me of how I felt when Ritter touched my skin. My eyes went to Ritter now and realization hit, blotting out all thoughts of my feelings for Keene and my worry about my future progeny: I loved this man. I didn’t want to lose him. Yet here we were in a room full of angry, frightened men who had permanently and viciously killed numerous Unbounded over the years. We had to try to save Brody, but what it if came at the loss of someone I loved?

  “Uh-oh,” Jace breathed in my ear. “I think this party is about to get ugly.”

  The leader in the black suit cleared his throat at the podium. “Hello,” he said in a mild voice. Everyone fell silent to listen. “You all know why we are here,” he continued. “You know what we must do today. We are the protectors of humanity, and we alone stand between our fellow man and the atrocities these Unbounded plan for them. We were once part of the evil Emporium. We saw for ourselves how they intend to set themselves up as false gods. How they use humans as their slaves until they are no longer needed and then cast aside, even as your parents and grandparents were cast aside. God wants us to protect His mortal children. It’s a terrible thing we must do this day, but we will not shirk our duty.”

  A swell of agreement passed through the crowd, but the man at the podium held up a finger. “Our brother Kofford will make the first cut.” He gestured to the fleshy man in the blue plaid shirt. “We will get the devil out of this creature, and allow him to repent before we send him to God. Remember that this is for his good as well as ours.”

  Another murmur through the crowd, this time of anticipation. The air filled with the scrape of knives as they left their sheaths. None of this was lost on Brody. His eyes rolled in terror, and energy flowed into him more quickly. One of the lights popped and went dead. That gave me an idea.

  I looked at Ritter, pushing the thought past his shield. I can kill the lights.

  His gaze flicked in my direction. Do it. Tell Oliver to get ready to mask Brody. Cort, Jace, and I will see that you get out. He caught first Jace’s eyes and then Cort’s, giving them the signal.

  Oliver, I said. When the lights go out, mask Brody. And as soon as you can, call up your SWAT team. He didn’t think an answer but there was a shift in his thoughts that told me he’d heard.

  The man called Kofford jumped down from the stage, an insipid smile on his bloated face, and approached the table where Brody struggled. “And the Lord shall cut off the tongue of him who speaks against His people.”

  Brody screamed, pulling in more energy. I helped, taking it so rapidly through the lights that they all popped at once, plunging the room into darkness except for thin rays that filtered in through the shuttered windows.

  “Devil!” someone cried out.

  “Get him!” shouted another.

  I slashed at Brody’s ropes. Knives glinted in the darkness, and he screamed as several met their intended destination. Then Jace and Cort were there, turning the knives on their owners, throwing people back from the table. I couldn’t see Ritter, but I could feel him in the general direction of the podium and the leader. In his mind I caught a glimpse of a rifle aimed at his chest.

  Move! I thrust at Brody’s mind. Electricity bounced in his head, sending flickers of light through my brain. He was close to exploding. I kicked at the man next to me who had raised his knife over his head in preparation to plunge it into Brody’s unprotected chest. The man screamed in pain, his knife slicing my arm as it clattered to the tile. I pulled Brody from the table, and we tumbled to the floor together. A glimpse of his terrorized face as we rolled under a window showed that he no longer looked like himself but Kofford, the leader in blue plaid. I had to admit that Oliver had a sense of flair.

  The blast of a rifle rose above the screams and confusion. I felt Ritter’s mental cry of agony, and the sensation froze me in place. A lamp in the corner switched on, and the leader in the black suit was illuminated. “They are among us!” he shouted, one finger pointed at Ritter, who was being held by two burly cowboys. Ritter heaved, slamming the two men together. Ten rifles aimed in his direction.

  Ritter turned, kicking out and moving so fast that he was nothing but a blur. Jace appeared behind three of the men with rifles, and in the next second, they were on the floor. More took their place. I shoved Brody at Oliver. “Get him out of here.” I didn’t think anyone would stop him. Already several Hunters were fleeing the meeting room. Two more gunshots burst through the cacophony.

  Reaching out to Jace, I began channeling his ability, choosing him over Ritter in the hopes that I could protect him better. A rifle turned in my direction and with a twist of a sai that was suddenly in my hand, I blocked, throwing the weapon from the man’s hand. Flipping it around, I used the handle as a hammer. Ritter was wrong. That hold came in very useful. But only because I wasn’t trying to kill anyone. Another opponent took his place, hesitating as he saw me. It was the man who’d offered me the use of his knife. Using the sai, I hooked the arm holding his pistol and twisted it back, feeling the bone crack. With a roar of pain, his knife came toward me, but I stepped easily aside. Night, night. I dropped the sai and slammed my fist into his face, feeling a distinct satisfaction as his eyes rolled up in
his head and he crumpled to the floor.

  “Erin!” Near the door, Oliver wrestled with the man in blue plaid. The real man because Brody Emerson had fallen to the floor, his face alternating between his own and the man Oliver had copied. Oliver wasn’t a good fighter under any condition, and his recent training was the only thing that kept him from going under in the assault. I launched toward him, intending to help. No wonder the imaginary SWAT team hadn’t appeared. Too bad, because if Oliver had done his job, his opponent would likely be running for cover by now.

  Two men rose up to block my path, and a third grabbed my arm from behind. I kicked backwards as Ritter sailed through the air toward the men in front of me. They collapsed to the tile in a tangle of arms and legs. I gave an elbow and another kick to the man behind me. That had the desired effect, and in the next instant I was free, sweeping up my dropped sai and turning to face the man. I tore his rifle away before he could use it, and he slammed down at me with a knife that looked like something from a slasher movie. Twirling the sai until the blade rested against the length of my arm, I brought it up to block. The clang of the knife against the metal would have been music, if I hadn’t been slightly off. His blade sunk an inch into my arm. Ouch. It’d be a lot easier if I could just shoot him. Instead, I settled for another kick, followed by a hammer punch with the sai. I was still linked to Jace and I could feel my brother’s abandon as he used his escrima sticks to free people from their weapons and send them unconscious to the ground.

  How many were left? Too many seemed to be moving under the dim light. Another shot filled the space, accompanied by more screams.

  Whirling, I nearly fell over the men still wrestling at my feet, Ritter’s arms pumping as he made short work of his last opponent. The blond who’d been guarding the front door appeared behind Ritter, aiming a pistol at his head. I thrust upward with the handle of one sai, jabbing him hard in the throat. He choked and dropped his gun. Back on his feet, Ritter jumped at the man.

  I hurried toward Oliver and Brody, but the man in the blue plaid shirt had pulled a gun and pointed it at his doppelganger. The lamp behind me suddenly burst and flames licked up the curtain.

  “No!” I shouted. Dropping my connection with Jace, I leapt into Brody’s mind, pulling the energy inside me until I felt I would burst. But what power I took from him wouldn’t be enough, not if I didn’t eliminate the threat so he would stop grasping for it. I felt for my gun, fingers humming with energy. I wasn’t going to make it. The pressure continued to rise in Brody faster than I could siphon it off. Since I hadn’t any idea of where to put it, that made two of us about to blow.

  Then Ritter was there, his gun at the head of the big man in blue plaid. “Go ahead. Kill him. But you’ll be next.”

  Kofford hesitated. Ritter plucked the gun from his hand, and rapped him over the head, knocking him unconscious. Ritter scowled at Oliver. “Where’s the SWAT team, huh?”

  “Oh, uh. I was fighting with—”

  “Now!” Ritter growled.

  “Hold it, everyone!” came a powerful voice near the podium. A dozen men in uniforms had appeared there with assault rifles and shields. “Drop your weapons immediately.” Rifles and knives clattered to the floor.

  “Go!” Ritter grabbed Brody by the back of his shirt and yanked him to his feet. “Oliver, you’re the last one out. Erin, tell Mari we’re coming.” Half-dragging Brody, he jumped toward the doorway. Cort and Jace followed, as well as several Hunters, who seemed more anxious at escaping the police than anything else. I tried to step forward or call out to Mari, but the power pulsing inside rooted me to the spot. My hands still clung to both sai.

  “Erin?” Oliver asked.

  “Go,” I said.

  To his credit, he hesitated.

  “Go!” I didn’t want him here when I blew.

  The next instant Ritter was gathering me in his arms and running down the hall. A figure rose up to stop us, but Ritter resolved the challenge with a single kick.

  I beat at Ritter’s chest. “Put . . . me . . . down. Too much . . . power. Brody’s ability . . . going to blow.” I didn’t want to take Ritter with me. How ironic that I might be the cause of his death.

  Ritter slowed, understanding at last. “Break your connection with him.”

  I couldn’t. At least I wasn’t taking in any more power, but I couldn’t seem to release what I had.

  “Find a target,” Ritter barked. “Anything. Blast it like a gun!”

  There had to be some way to release the power as he commanded. Maybe I just had to choose a target.

  We’d reached the foyer where the monitors sat on the desk. That was as good as it was going to get. “Leave me,” I told Ritter. “I’ll blow the computers.”

  He held me tighter, his forehead touching mine. “I’m not leaving you.”

  It was an unreasonable response. He was in charge of the mission and I was endangering it. He should cut his losses. But of course he wouldn’t.

  I looked at the desk and pointed with a sai, pushing the power toward it. The energy careened through my body in a heady rush. The desk, the computers, and the entire room, burst into flame. Ritter leapt for the door even as the heat became unbearable. An explosion erupted behind us, and we were blown out to the sidewalk in a shower of glass.

  Mari screeched the Land Cruiser up to the front walk. Everyone was already inside, except for Oliver, who crouched on the sidewalk, covering his head. Jace jumped out and pulled him inside as Ritter and I found our feet and started running.

  Next door, people piled out of the church. “Call the fire department!” someone shouted.

  “There are people inside!” called a second person. “Help me break the windows so we can get them out.”

  Mari stomped on the gas, leaving the destruction behind.

  “WHOO-HOO!” JACE SCREAMED. “THAT’LL TEACH them to mess with us!” His words belied his numerous cuts and bruises, and the already blackening eye. Cort, Ritter, Keene, and I were no better off. Only Oliver had escaped with minimal wounds, and Brody, who’d lapsed into unconsciousness in the back seat with Cort. From the bag of medical supplies on Cort’s lap, I suspected it wasn’t a natural unconsciousness.

  Mari smirked. “Only if your assailants look worse than you do.”

  “What, you don’t think going up in flames is good enough?” Jace quipped.

  “That was kind of impressive.” Mari glanced back at me, a question in her eyes.

  I wasn’t about to get into it now, though I’d have to make a full report to Ava. My head throbbed and I felt as weak as a baby. I was glad they’d done something about Brody because I couldn’t feel the power in him now. Either he’d found a safe way to release it, or the power had gradually seeped away after he fell unconscious. We’d all been so close to death. The first thing we needed to do when Brody awoke was to help him control his ability or the next time he was frightened we might not be so lucky.

  I shivered, though I didn’t feel cold, and Ritter put an arm around me. “Pass me a blanket,” he told Cort. “And some curequick.”

  “No curequick for me,” I said. The fact that I craved the buzz told me I’d had too much in the past few days. Besides, the power whipping through my body had already given me a high.

  Ritter wrapped me in the blanket, but I pushed it off. I felt flushed and I didn’t think it was from fever or from three of us being crammed into the middle seat. I felt Keene’s eyes on me from Ritter’s other side, and when I looked up, there was a sadness there. Or something similar radiating from him. Did he realize that I’d finally accepted my feelings for Ritter back there with the Hunters? That I’d chosen? It felt both good and frightening to even think about so much change. Committing to Ritter was more than a relationship. It meant permanence and family, and I still didn’t think I was quite ready, but it was clear that I loved him and maybe the rest didn’t really matter.

  I looked away from Keene and moved closer to Ritter, which seemed impossible without getting i
nto his lap. Ritter quirked a brow at me, but said nothing. “I’ll inject just a little right around your cut,” he said. “Otherwise, you’ll be good for nothing the rest of the day.”

  “All right, but no stitches. Just wrap it tight.”

  “Okay.” He tossed a syringe of curequick to Jace in the front seat. “Get Oliver to help you if you need it.”

  Oliver sat beside Jace, stiff and unsmiling, as though he felt everyone blamed him for our not making it out sooner. But while he should have called up the SWAT team sooner, none of us blamed him for being scared. If he’d admit it, we’d all tell him so, but as soon as his mouth opened, I was pretty sure it would be an excuse or to blame someone else. Oliver might be talented, and his IQ was high enough that he periodically mentioned it in arguments, but his social skills were pretty much nil.

  Everyone was quiet as we bandaged our wounds. Ritter sewed up a cut on his leg that made me bite my lip, and Cort announced that he’d need help digging a bullet from his thigh. A few tiny balls from a shotgun had pierced Jace’s arm, but they were easily removed, and he was feeling pretty happy after receiving a shot of curequick laced with anesthesia.

  “Better pull over while we look at Cort,” Ritter said. “And change the plates in case anyone at that church jotted them down.”

  Mari swerved over with a little too much enthusiasm. “Good, I was getting tired of driving anyway. It’s going to take forever to get there. If no one minds, I think I’ll just meet you all back home. I can get started on reporting to Ava.” She waited less than five seconds before a soft suction of air told us she’d shifted.

  “Well,” Jace said. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  Cort grinned. “Yeah, she’s going to be a pain on the way to the new safe house. Too bad she can’t shift there. Something tells me that will be a long trip.”

  Mari’s impatience was a new part of her identity. Before her Change she’d been an accountant, using a machine to meticulously add numbers. Now she added a page at a time with only a glance and folded space as if it were a piece of paper.