Tori didn’t hesitate either. I let go of the soldier and rolled away from him because I knew exactly what she would do.
She dropped the baton out of her sleeve and shot him.
The soldier let out a gasp, went stiff, and lay still—out cold.
The woman didn’t move. She stood there, coolly appraising us.
“You’re making a mistake,” she said casually, as if fights like this happened to her every day.
“Give me that thing,” I said, holding my hand out.
She shrugged and handed me her electronic device.
After giving it a quick look, I dropped it onto the roof and raised my foot to smash it.
“No don’t!” she cried, finally showing some emotion.
I brought my foot down and slammed my heel into the device, cracking the screen.
“There’s nowhere to hide, Tucker,” she said with a sigh.
“We’ll see,” I replied and took off running.
Kent and Tori were right behind me.
We sprinted back to the door we had come up through. I had no plan in mind except to climb down and somehow disappear into this twisted city. We were twenty yards away from the door . . .
. . . when it blew open and a Retro soldier stepped out.
The three of us put on the brakes and skidded to a stop. We all looked around, desperate for another escape route.
“Door!” Kent announced and took off running across the roof toward the far side.
I was breathing hard and coughing as I sucked in polluted air that burned my lungs.
“Damn!” Tori screamed and wiped at her hair as she was hit with a spit of burning rain.
Whatever this place—this dimension—was, it was a nightmare.
Two more Retro soldiers appeared through the door we were running toward. The roof had suddenly become a very crowded place. We changed direction again, only to see three more soldiers had appeared. They were spread out across the roof, surrounding us and closing in like a tightening noose.
Running was useless. We were trapped. We stopped in the dead center of the roof and stood with our backs to each other, helpless as the circle of Retro soldiers grew closer.
Tori lifted her weapon but I put my hand on hers to stop her.
“Don’t,” I said. “You won’t hit enough of them before they start shooting back.”
She fought me and kept holding the weapon up, ready to fire.
Each of the Retro soldiers had a baton trained on us. It was seven to one. Six actually. The soldier that Tori shot was unconscious. One of the larger soldiers had him slung over his shoulder.
Tori realized the futility and reluctantly lowered the weapon.
Kent held his broom threateningly, as if that would do any good.
“Back off,” he warned. “I’m serious.”
He said it as though he didn’t realize how stupid he looked. At least the Retros didn’t laugh at him.
The woman soldier who had first confronted me raised her hand as a signal and the others stopped advancing.
“Throw down the weapon, Tori,” the woman said calmly.
Tori didn’t budge.
“Do what she says, Tori,” I said.
“No!” Kent yelled. “I am not going back to that camp.”
“We’re not sending you back,” the woman said.
“So then what are you going to do?” I asked.
The woman stood staring at us as though trying to decide the best way to answer. After an uncomfortable few seconds, she slowly raised her right hand . . . and put it over her heart.
Tori gasped.
One by one, the other Retros followed her lead and put their hands over their hearts.
“We’ve been trying to find a way to get you here for a few days,” the woman said. “I should have known you would have found your way here on your own.”
Tori lowered the black baton as if the weight was suddenly too much for her to bear.
“I don’t understand,” Tori said, numbly. “You’re Sounders?”
“We are,” the woman replied. “I’m glad you already know about us, but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at that, either. You three have quite the reputation for being resourceful. It’s an honor to meet the team that took out half of the Air Force’s attack fleet.”
My head was spinning.
Kent dropped the broom, letting it clatter onto the rooftop.
“How do you know who we are?” he asked.
“I told them,” one of the Retro soldiers said. It was another woman. “I don’t think they believed most of the stories until you showed up here,” she said. “You just validated everything I’ve been telling them about you.”
My heart started racing faster than it had when we were running. I was seeing it and I was hearing it, but I wasn’t believing it. It was easier to accept that we were on another planet or that we had somehow stepped through a magical portal into a parallel universe than it was to believe the sight in front of us.
The soldier stepped forward and pulled off her beret to reveal the short blonde hair of the beautiful girl who had sacrificed her life to save mine.
Or had she?
“Oh my God,” Tori said with a gasp.
“Surprise,” she said with a flirty smile. “Miss me?”
Olivia Kinsey was alive and back in the game.
THIRTEEN
“How?” was all I managed to say.
Kent couldn’t even get that much out. He stood there with his mouth open staring at Olivia with a stunned expression that I couldn’t read. I didn’t know if he was overjoyed or if his head was about to explode.
“Obviously that shot didn’t kill me,” Olivia said. “But don’t let that take away from the fact that I took it for you, Tucker Pierce. You still owe me.”
I stammered out a lame, “But—”
“Attention,” an amplified voice boomed.
Everyone spun and looked up to see a dark, ominous mechanical device floating closer to us from above. It was a miniature version of a Retro attack drone with a wingspan that was maybe four feet across. The faint musical tone it emitted proved that it was powered by the same advanced engine as their larger counterparts.
“This is an unauthorized operation,” the voice from the plane commanded. “Drop your weapons and step forward to be scanned and identified.”
There was a frozen moment. This drone wasn’t after us, it was after the Retro soldiers. The Sounders. We all stood in the middle of a wide-open rooftop, totally exposed, with nowhere to run for protection. There was only one possible choice.
Olivia lifted her baton and fired at the plane.
Yes, Olivia.
The impulse of power blasted the hovering craft and spun it away from us.
“Let’s go,” the woman commander ordered and ran for the door we had first come through. The Sounder carrying the unconscious soldier hurried after her while the others dropped to their knees, lifted their weapons, and shot a steady stream of impulses at the craft.
Olivia was one of them.
Tori, Kent, and I stood there, stunned. For all sorts of reasons.
“Olivia?” I said, numbly.
“Go!” she barked in a commanding voice that was both familiar and impossible. “We’ll catch up.”
Tori snapped out of it and pulled us both to get us going.
“We gotta move,” she declared.
Kent pulled away from her and knelt down next to Olivia, who continued to fire on the hovering craft.
“You were dead,” he said in a voice that was loaded with confusion and fear.
“You really want to chat about it now?” Olivia shouted.
I grabbed Kent at the exact instant another hovering craft appeared over the edge of the roof, rising up from the street belo
w. It fired.
One of the Retro soldiers screamed as he was blasted off of his feet. The guy wasn’t just stunned, he was killed instantly. These drones weren’t there to take prisoners.
“Drop back,” another Retro soldier commanded. “There’s bound to be more.”
The small squad might have been able to battle one craft, but not multiple predators. Retreat was the only smart move. That made it easier for me to get Kent moving and we all sprinted for the door. Olivia and the Retro soldiers moved backward, spraying the air with charges from their weapons as . . .
Boom! the first drone exploded into a spectacular fireball that sprayed molten bits of flaming material over the surface of the roof.
“That’ll draw more attention,” the second Retro soldier said.
On cue, a third craft swooped in, focused on our position, and fired.
The surface to my right exploded so violently that I felt the roof give way beneath my feet. Tori grabbed me and pulled me forward, keeping me from falling through.
“Move!” the woman commander shouted from inside the door.
The three of us ducked inside, followed right behind by Olivia and the rest of the soldiers.
We all scrambled down the stairs as the door we had just come through was blown off of its hinges. It crashed around inside of the service hallway, slamming into the fleeing soldiers.
“We can’t go down there,” Kent shouted above the echo of footsteps as we all charged down the stairs. “The place is full of Retros.”
The Sounders were way ahead of him. When we reached the next floor, rather than continuing down the stairs, the commander led us through a door that opened onto a long, brightly lit corridor.
Every last Sounder suddenly slowed to a calm walk as if they were casually passing through. It was almost comical how quickly they went from fleeing in terror to taking full control of their emotions. Or at least of their appearance.
The corridor was lined with sealed windows behind which people sat wearing white shirts and dark pants. They were at high-tech workstations with flat panels on the desks that their fingers slid across expertly to manipulate 3-D images that hovered over each screen. Some were working on complex calculations. Others seemed to be manipulating detailed designs of machinery. I had no idea what any of it was but I was no longer amazed or surprised by the advanced technology the Retros possessed.
“Bring him directly to the medical unit,” the commander ordered authoritatively.
The soldier who was carrying his unconscious pal moved ahead of us quickly. The other Retro soldiers were behind us, including Olivia. They held their baton weapons across their chests and walked shoulder to shoulder, as if escorting their prisoners.
Us.
“Bring these natives to Security Six,” she commanded. “Wait for me there.”
She was putting on a show for the benefit of the eggheads who were working behind the glass. She needn’t have bothered. They were all so focused on whatever they were working on that they didn’t notice the group of soldiers and prisoners passing by outside.
We all walked quickly—but without panic—to the far end of the long corridor, out the door on the far side, and then through another service stairwell, where the soldier carrying the injured soldier was waiting for us. Once through, the boss-woman immediately shed the casual act and started pulling off her clothes.
“Wake him up, now,” she ordered. “Secure the door.”
One of the soldiers pulled out a small hand-tool and jammed it into the lock. I had to believe he had just destroyed the mechanism, making it impossible for anybody to follow us. Another soldier dug into his pocket and took out a small glass vial, cracked it open, and jabbed one end into the arm of the unconscious soldier like an injection, right through his sleeve.
Everyone else pulled off the small backpacks they had been wearing and began tearing off their camouflage uniforms.
“That’s why I’m still here,” Olivia said, pointing to the vial of medicine.
“That brings people back from the dead?” I asked.
“No, but it can bring them back from the brink.” She slammed her backpack into my stomach. “Here. We brought you clothes.”
I took the bag numbly and flipped it open to find a pair of black pants and a green shirt.
“You too,” another soldier said to Tori and gave her a pack.
A third soldier did the same for Kent.
The three of us were too stunned and confused to move.
“Or you could keep wearing those snappy orange outfits,” Olivia said.
That was all we needed to hear. The three of us instantly joined in and stripped off our clothes. There was no time for modesty as each of the soldiers peeled off their camouflage uniform and put on black pants and a green shirt.
“Hurry please,” the commander said.
“I hope I guessed right on the sizes,” Olivia said.
“You arranged all of this?” Tori asked, incredulous.
“I knew you guys would end up here sooner or later.”
“Olivia, what the hell—” I said.
“Shhh,” she replied. “Not until we’re somewhere safe.”
I dressed quickly. There were even black leather shoes and dark socks for all of us.
Kent moved as if in a daze. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Olivia, as if not believing she was actually there.
For the record, I was having trouble believing it too.
There was absolutely nothing that made sense about her presence. We watched her die after she jumped in front of me to take the charge that was fired by a Retro soldier. Though I can’t say which was more surprising: the fact that she was still alive or that she was a Retro soldier.
At least one mystery was finally solved: Captain Granger had been right. One of my friends who escaped with us from Pemberwick Island was indeed a Retro infiltrator.
I had befriended her months before and spent an incredibly fun summer showing her around the island. When SYLO invaded, we had been thrown together by circumstance and eventually made our escape. We then traveled across the United States, seeking survivors who wanted to fight back against the Retros.
The idea that she had been playing us the whole time was mind-blowing.
I heard a groan. The soldier Tori had shot was coming around. Whatever was in that glass vial really did bring him back from the brink. The other soldiers didn’t waste time offering him sympathy. They were too busy tearing off his uniform and redressing him in the civilian clothes.
“Walk out casually,” the commander said. “We were all here to attend a lecture on herd management. Leave the gear but slip the pulsers up your sleeves.”
Pulsers.
I finally knew what those baton weapons were called.
“I don’t have to remind you that we’re going to have a very small window of time to get out of this building before the place is locked down,” she continued. “Once outside, separate and make your way to Safe House Tango.”
“Uh, what?’ Tori asked.
“Stay with me,” Olivia said as she finished tucking in her shirt. “It’ll be just like old times.”
“You were killed during those old times,” Tori said.
“Yet here I am,” Olivia said brightly.
The three of us could only stare at her in disbelief.
“Are you with us?” the commander asked the soldier who was being treated.
The guy stood up, took a deep breath, and said, “I’m good.”
“All right then, everybody ready?” she asked.
I raised my hand to ask a question. I actually raised my hand. For a moment I felt like I was back in kindergarten, being swept along in a flurry of activity that I had no control over or understanding of.
“Yes?” the commander said patiently.
“Wh
at exactly is happening here?” I asked. “Are we your prisoners?”
The commander started to answer quickly. I’m sure she was ready to say something bold, like “Shut up and keep moving!” Instead, she caught herself and took a step back.
“You are not our prisoners,” she said thoughtfully. “We may be in the Air Force but we’re doing everything we can to prevent the invasion.”
“Good enough for me,” Kent said.
“And you’re going to help us do it,” the commander added.
She stood staring directly at me.
“Oh,” Kent said, sober. “Didn’t see that coming.”
I didn’t break eye contact with the woman. I wanted her to know that we wouldn’t be manipulated. By anybody.
“If you want us to help you,” I said. “You’re going to have to trust us with a whole lot more information than we have now.”
“That’s a deal,” she said without hesitation. “Can it wait until we’re someplace safe?”
I looked to Kent and Tori.
Kent shrugged. He was too stunned to have any other comeback.
Tori gave me a reassuring nod and said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“We’ll follow you,” I said to the commander.
“All right then,” she said. “Stay calm. Don’t hurry but keep moving.”
The woman started down the stairs, followed by the soldier who had been unconscious only minutes before. We went next, closely trailed by Olivia and the rest of the Retros.
The commander moved quickly but with control down three flights of stairs until we hit the bottom floor. She stopped at the door and looked back to us.
“Remember, act like you belong and nobody will stop us.”
She yanked the door open and a flood of sound rushed in. The lobby was loaded with people moving about like high school students during a class change. It was the perfect situation to blend in unnoticed, though I felt like a fat fly buzzing through a pack of hungry spiders.
Olivia stepped up behind me and put her hand on my shoulder.
“Breathe,” she whispered.
Easy for her to say. She knew how to come back from the dead.
Strike: The SYLO Chronicles #3 Page 15