Elements of the Enemy (Alliance Society Book 1)

by C. J. Felver

  Lyza and I manage to snag two treadmills next to each other. We keep a steady pace to warm up.

  “That’s really what every place said?” Lyza asks after I finish filling her in.

  “Pretty much,” I grunt.

  She continues in silence for a few beats. I can tell she’s stewing. It’s obvious by the clench of her jaw and the way she’s staring at the belt below her feet instead of ahead of herself.

  For a brief moment, the hair on my arms stands on end. Before I can even look down at my arm, it’s back to normal. Casting a glance in her direction, the stiff set to her shoulders is plain as day. Yeah, she’s more than pissed. “Do you want the bag or the pads?”

  Lyza slaps the button on the treadmill and hops off the back. “Pads for sure.”

  I follow her to the makeshift square taped off on the floor and, after a quick stretch to loosen our arms and shoulders, strap the pads to my hands. We take our stances and Lyza begins with a two-hit series, punching at my padded hands. She picks up her pace, anger bleeding further into her actions as she switches harshly to a three-hit series. Her movements are jerky, lacking her usual synchronization from years of practice.

  Neither of us speak. We don’t need to. The tension in her shoulders builds the more she works, which says a lot for her mood.

  About ten minutes later, she takes off her gloves and we swap places. I start off slow, with a similar series as Lyza. Working my way through another series, something dawns on me. Something that could actually help our cause.

  “So that rally Monday,” I say, pausing to gauge her reaction. “You still think going won’t make a difference?” Her face remains a cool mask; her attention never falters, but her eyes steel over.

  I throw another series of punches into her mitted hands before she answers. “Maybe.” Left, right, left, left. “Not really.” Her mask slips a little and I make no effort to hide my smirk. “Alright, girl. Fine, yes, I’ll go. Shit’s sake. Only because we’ll never know if we’ll make a difference if we don’t try. Silence counts as taking a side, and I fucking refuse to roll over.”

  My thoughts exactly.

  “I think there’s a bigger crowd than usual here today,” Lyza tells me. We’re standing in front of the courthouse, doing what we can to take a stand for our rights.

  As far as rallies go, this one is pretty peaceful. The elementals who gather here don’t want to give others any reason to hate or fear us more than they already do.

  News anchors come around and interview a few people, though Lyza and I try to stay out of the camera’s view. Neither of us care to be featured on any local news stations. Forget that nonsense. Do that and next thing you know, you’re a damn meme. No thank you.

  From a small distance, we hear bits and pieces of the interviews around us. They all pretty much echo the same message: elementals are treated unfairly, we don’t pose a threat, we just want equal opportunities. Some include their sob stories of how they’ve been mistreated. One woman is saying her fourteen-year-old daughter was expelled from school for putting out a fire in the chemistry lab. People in her neighborhood found out and her house has been vandalized three times since then.

  Because now it’s apparently okay to deny an adolescent their right to education simply because she has a gift—one she used to help others, at that.

  During one of the interviews, a commotion begins. Above the clamor, someone is screaming obscenities. I crane my neck in the direction of the noise, but I can’t see anything. The mass of bodies around us starts to push toward the commotion.

  Lyza and I weave our way through the bodies, getting out of the throng. Across the street, a crowd of protesters has formed—rioters with lewd posters, angry men and women shouting about how our kind don’t deserve to live.

  Anger bleeds into my veins, boiling my skin in its wake. The moisture in the air calls to me, beckoning me to pull and twist it to my will. I ignore the urge, closing my eyes and breathing deep to clear my head.

  Tingles spread up my spine. I turn to find Lyza’s gaze fixed on them, just as furious as I am. Sparks of electricity dance in the brown depths of her eyes. She closes her eyes, nostrils flaring. When she opens them again, everything’s back to normal.

  The news anchor rushes over, camera man in tow, standing in the middle of the street spewing propaganda. “It seems this rally couldn’t escape the threat of protestors, as a crowd forms just across the street. Let’s head on over to talk with some of our citizens.”

  This is unbelievable. Such a radical group of people couldn’t have much interesting to say. Every word coming from the mob is a profane threat.

  “Wanna hit Pop's Diner down the street?” I ask, hoping to get out of here before shit starts to really go down. We never stay at rallies once this hateful group of dickbags arrive. They make my blood boil, and I know the limits of my anger. Walking away is our best bet, and I know Lyza feels the same way.

  She nods in response and turns around, leading the way toward the restaurant, which is only a few blocks away. “After we leave, you can drop me at my Jeep.” After we walked home from the club Friday night, we planned on picking her Jeep up the next day, but when we hit the gym, Lyza forgot her keys back at the apartment. Then Sunday we figured we’d just pick it up today after the rally, not wanting to make a special trip.

  Beside me, Lyza is patting down her pockets, probably double checking that she actually has her keys this time. She never carries a purse when we go to rallies, she just stuffs her keys and tiny wallet into her pocket. Only the essentials.

  She gasps and freezes on the spot. After a moment, she begins looking around on the ground, her eyes wide and her jaw slack. “Something wrong?” I ask, tilting my head in her direction.

  “I dropped my wallet somewhere!”

  “Crap. Okay, uh … let’s retrace our steps, it can’t be far. I bet it’s on the ground back in the crowd. I doubt anyone would’ve noticed it. They’re too preoccupied.” I hope anyway.

  “I hope you’re right,” she echoes my thoughts.

  As we walk toward the crowd, we scour the area looking for her wallet. About halfway there, she gasps again, grabbing my arm and pointing. “There it is!” She puts her hand over her chest. “Thank freaking goodness! I’ll be right back, you don’t have to come with me.”

  “Alright, girl,” I say, happy not to meander through the crowd again. I pull out my phone and check the time. 1:09 P.M. No wonder I feel so damn hungry. As if on cue, my stomach rumbles. I try to stifle the sound with a hand over it. Not that it matters. Looking around, anyone nearby is either engrossed in the rioters or trying to ignore them. Though, I do notice a “Help Wanted” sign in the window of the shop beside me. I wrinkle my nose at it. Ten to one says they reserve the right not to hire elementals.

  Hopefully, the Government Alliance Treaty will solve this issue for us. I guess we’ll see after today’s hearing. I let out a frustrated grunt, rolling my eyes. This is just ridiculous.

  Glancing back toward the crowd, anticipating Lyza being close by soon, I’m surprised not to see her anywhere. Where the heck did she go? I move closer to the crowd, straining my neck and standing on my tiptoes to see over everyone, which is difficult when you’re only five foot three. Still no sign of her.

  Worry spreads through my gut. How could she have disappeared so quickly? She was just right there.

  Movement in the alleyway catches my eye. My heart drops into my gut. Two men are dragging away my best friend. She’s hanging limp in their arms.

  I run down the alley, chasing after them. What the hell did they do to her?

  As they near the end of the alleyway, a blacked-out SUV pulls up. I push myself harder, feet pounding the concrete, wind whistling by my ears, my hair whipping behind me.

  I’m not going to make it.

  The back door of the SUV swings open and a man jumps out, shouting at the others. I don’t stop, expanding my senses, ready to throw water at them, but I don’t feel any nearby to pull o
n. There’s no way I can take on three AGAS guys by myself without water to call on.

  The two guys toss Lyza into the vehicle.

  I push myself harder.

  The third man yanks his door open, stopping to level me with an intimidating stare, eyes hard and intense.

  I keep pushing forward.

  He jumps into the SUV, tires screeching as it speeds away before he even closes his door.

  Slowing to a stop, I stand there, hands on my knees catching my breath. What am I going to do? There’s no doubt in my mind that AGAS drugged Lyza before they took her, just like they took my dad four years ago. How am I going to get her back?

  Rules

  I stand there staring after the SUV, contemplating what to do next. It would be easy to just follow them, especially knowing where they are going. But would I be able to get her back on my own? Possibly, but Lyza is just as skilled as I am with self-defense and, well, look where that got her. I’d be foolish to go on my own and risk getting myself captured as well.

  But if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that my best friend is more than worth the risk.

  And a plan would help.

  First, it’s probably a good idea to talk to the police. Normal people report abductions to the police, right? Their station is near the courthouse. Hopefully, they’ll be able to help.

  Dodging around the crowd, I trek the short distance and duck into the police station. The only place to go is the front desk. Everything else is blocked by closed doors. There’s a large window blocking access to the desk, with a small intercom to speak through.

  A male officer with pale blue eyes and short, ash-blond hair greets me, asking what he can assist me with.

  “A friend of mine was taken. I—”

  “What can you tell me about where your friend was last seen?” he asks in an urgent tone, interrupting me. “As well as your friend’s name and a physical description.”

  “Yes, I actually have her I.D.,” I search my pockets for her wallet, but come up empty. “Nevermind, I don’t have it.” I totally forgot about grabbing her wallet when I saw her hanging limp in those assholes’ arms. A problem for another time. “But I do have a picture of her,” I pull out my phone to show him a picture, giving him the other information he asked for.

  “Please describe the abductors, miss.”

  “Yes, there were three of them, all wearing black fatigues. They work for the Anti Government Alliance Society.”

  The officer looks up at me with an eyebrow raised. “Why do you think her abductors work for the Anti Government Alliance Society?” A bit of incredulity seeps into his tone. He’s giving me the feeling he doesn’t believe me.

  “Uh, because they were in all black and got into an unmarked, blacked-out SUV,” I drawl. If there’s one thing I don’t appreciate, it’s being spoken down to.

  “Well, fortunately, the most trouble AGAS ever causes is some brutality during rallies. Kidnapping isn’t really in their repertoire. We’ll look into this. To help with the investigation, is there anything else you can tell me about Lyza? Any reason you think that AGAS would want to abduct her?”

  Is he serious right now?

  “What does their repertoire matter if I’m telling you that I witnessed them take her?” Anger builds through my system. I work hard to push it down and answer his question. “Well, she’s an elemental. AGAS has it out against us. I don’t know why they would take her specifically, but they did.”

  The officer’s face falters for the smallest moment before he corrects it, putting on his professional emotionless mask. I didn’t miss it though, it was there plain as day. Something tells me I’m not going to like what he has to say next.

  “Unfortunately, until the courts rule this case one way or the other, there’s nothing I can do to help you or your friend. The law has our hands tied. I’m sorry, miss.”

  What. The actual. Fuck?

  “You’re telling me that my friend—who was abducted right in front of me—is plumb out of luck because she’s an elemental?” At this point, I’m shrieking through the intercom at this man. This situation is so messed up that I cannot even fight against the bile that’s rising within me. It feels as if I could spit acid.

  “I’m sorry, miss. The department has rules to follow and our hands—”

  I turn and walk out without waiting for him to finish, otherwise I’ll end up in jail for the things I want to say and do. The door slams shut behind me. If they won’t help me, then I’ll have to do this myself.

  AGAS took my dad four years ago. At the time, I was nineteen years old and still naïve to the world. I had no idea what to do. No idea who to turn to. My dad, Frank, was the one who taught me about the Anti Government Alliance Society, and how to steer clear of them. The day he was captured, we were on the run. He had told me to keep running, no matter what. For as long as I can remember, he always drilled it into me not to go after him if he was ever captured, not wanting to risk me ending up captured, too.

  But I’m not the same person I was four years ago. I can’t stand not knowing what happened to my dad. Is he dead? Is he still alive, being tortured on a daily basis? Did he escape and try to find me? Those thoughts have tormented me and I won’t go through it again with Lyza.

  There’s a sporting goods store not far from here, so I walk the few blocks back to my Kia, forming a plan the whole way. My stomach rumbles loudly, reminding me of my missed lunch. I ignore it though. There’s no time right now.

  Inside the sporting goods store, I head straight for the hiking packs. Looking for the packs with bladder pouches—the kind you can fill with water to drink as you hike. I grab what I need, rage still simmering in my chest. A part of me feels responsible for this happening to Lyza. On Friday, she didn’t really want to go to the rally, but between the incident at the club Friday night and Saturday’s failed job search, I used my misery to convince her to go anyway. I’m the reason she changed her mind. I’m the reason she’s in trouble.

  At my apartment, I remove the pouches from the backpacks and affix them to the inside of a black jacket. I slip my arms into the sleeves, putting the jacket on to make sure the position of the pouches will be functional with my movements. I throw a few punches and run a couple laps around the apartment, testing it. It seems to work pretty well, so I pull that jacket off and fill both pouches before putting it back on and repeating the whole process.

  Before leaving, I strap on my boots. When Lyza had bought her ass-kicking boots, she insisted that I have a pair too. I hardly ever wear them, but I’m thankful for them today.

  I lock up the apartment and drive down to the strip. They can only be holding her in one place. Even though my dad had told me not to come after him, I did plenty of research over the years. Harlow Scientific Industries is the corporate science lab AGAS uses as their front, and is only a few minutes’ drive from our place, so I park in a nearby lot.

  Even though the sun is starting to set, it’s still a fair way from the edge of the horizon, perfect for me to walk around the area to figure out if they have a patrol or something before their front office closes. I set a slow pace, hoping I look like a local going for a walk. Knowing my luck, I probably look insanely suspicious. Adrenaline is coursing through my entire body, making me feel numb. Or mostly numb, aside from my blood still being heated from knowing the police won’t even bother to do anything.

  So far, there’s no sign of anyone near the building. I’m the only one out here. I turn the corner and start along the other side of the building.

  Our hands are tied …

  Yeah, okay. That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard in my life. If I hadn’t bothered to tell that officer Lyza was an elemental, he’d have been all over her abduction case. But I opened my big fat mouth and he wrote my best friend off faster than I could finish my sentence.

  And she’s still in AGAS’s grasp.

  Who knows what they’re doing to her at this point? No doubt, they have her locked up s
omewhere in this huge lab. I keep picturing them poking and prodding her, forcing her to use her gift. They could be beating her or testing her blood.

  Every minute she’s in there could be a disaster. I have to get her out.

  It’s clear to me that AGAS doesn’t have any sort of outside security patrolling around. It doesn’t make sense to me why that is, but whatever. With the sun finally set, I make my way back toward the main entrance of Harlow Scientific Industry Labs.

  Staring up at the massive building, I try to figure out how in the heck I am going to get into it. I could scale the wall and get in through a window, but I’m not much for climbing. Settling on just waltzing through the front door, I take a deep breath and mentally reach out, sensing the water resting at my sides, ready to call on at a moment’s notice.

  After walking through the double sets of front doors, I stroll right up to the reception desk. The male receptionist looks up at me expectantly, his light brown skin flawless.

  Crap, what the heck do I say?

  My heart starts pounding so hard, it feels as if it may just jump right out of my chest. I haven’t really thought ahead of what to do when I actually encounter someone, so … I guess I’ll just be winging it. Fingers crossed.

  “Hi … Jalen,” I say, pausing only for a moment to read his nametag. “Where’s the restroom?” His perfectly sculpted eyebrow raises before he answers.

  “We don’t have a public restroom,” he tells me, a slight lilt to his voice. “You’ll have to go to the gas station down the street.” He dismisses me by looking back down at his computer screen.

  Okay, I guess I’ll have to kick it up a notch. Note to self: work on your acting.

  “So, here’s the thing, maybe you can help me out. I’ve been on the road all day and someone at this address ordered an Uber. If I’m not out there waiting for them, I’ll be in trouble with my boss.” I have no idea if Uber drivers even have a boss, but I give him my best pleading look and hope he buys it.