“He isn’t dead,” Caleb said. “Obviously.”
Melanie held up the suitcase she’d gotten from Sydal like a shield. “Oh my God.”
Sydal himself clearly wasn’t used to surprises like this. Or, for that matter, threats about decapitation. He stomped his foot and screamed across the field at Bea.
“What is the meaning of this, Barnaby?” One of Sydal’s guards touched his arm to keep him from advancing any further towards Five. Despite the Loric’s threat, Caleb noticed that all of Sydal’s men had their guns at the ready, tense, prepared to fire at the slightest provocation. The mercenaries on the other side had the exact same posture.
Across the field, Bea held up her hands like the picture of innocence.
“I’m as surprised as you are, Wade,” she replied. “Young man, what is—?” She started to address Five, until he whipped his head in her direction.
“Shut up!” he snapped. “All of you!”
The Skimmer landed and a rickety entrance ramp began to unfurl from its side. Everyone turned to watch as three people exited the ship. The first was a girl Caleb didn’t recognize. She was tall and thin, her head shaved, and even at this distance, he could see electricity crackling across her fists and arms.
Caleb recognized the next guy down the ramp. He’d only seen Einar briefly, back during their fight with the Harvesters on the highway. Caleb remembered him as slick and showy, wearing his fancy suit and carrying around an attaché case. He’d seemed so remarkably in control. Yet now, while Einar definitely gave off a certain arrogance that Caleb found immediately grating and he was still dressed well, there were hairs out of place and his suit was noticeably wrinkled. His eyes were tired. He looked, Caleb realized, like a guy who had been living inside a broken-down spaceship.
Following Einar out of the ship was Isabela. She held a cell phone in front of her and it quickly became apparent that she was recording video. Caleb’s heart sank even more. As if it wasn’t bad enough seeing Taylor and Nigel over there with the Foundation—and Nigel’s mom, apparently—now here was Isabela backing Einar. He didn’t know whose side he was supposed to take in this situation.
But . . . you know what? That didn’t seem to matter. In fact, Caleb suddenly felt pretty chill about the whole standoff. Everyone else seemed to agree because they were all stepping back and lowering their guns.
Einar raised his arms and smiled.
“Hello, everyone,” he began. “In case you hadn’t guessed, I’m helping you all stay calm.”
Caleb smiled and nodded. Yep. It was working. He felt great.
“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Einar.” He bowed in Sydal’s direction. Then, he looked over at Nigel, the Brit wearing the same dopey grin as all the rest of them, despite being faced with the guy who once nearly killed him. “For those that I’ve met before, I’m truly sorry if I made a bad first impression. I’m learning.”
Einar spoke laconically, giving off the impression of control. But Caleb saw a vein pulsing on the side of his head. Manipulating the emotions of this many people was a strain, even for a Garde as powerful as Einar.
“Let’s play a game,” Einar said. “If you are part of a vast criminal conspiracy to exploit and control Garde, please raise your hand.”
Sydal’s hand went up enthusiastically. So did Bea Barnaby’s. All the guards and mercenaries also raised their hands. It was a combination of Einar compelling honesty and his two helpers simply using their telekinesis to jerk arms into the air. After a few seconds, only the Garde were left with their hands down.
“All of these people have ties to an organization called the Foundation. If you’ve heard of them, you are probably under their sway.” Caleb realized that Einar wasn’t speaking so much to the crowd as to Isabela’s camera. “The Foundation even have their hands in Earth Garde, the so-called Human Garde Academy, and virtually every powerful organization on this planet. They think they can control us. Exploit us. Profit off us or kill us.”
Einar paused for a breath.
“I am living proof that they cannot,” he continued. “If you are watching this video and you are Garde, if you are trapped at Earth Garde’s mockery of a training center, if you are a prisoner of the Foundation—I will find you. I will save you. I will liberate you.”
Isabela got right into Einar’s face, capturing the challenging curl of his upper lip.
“And if you are part of the Foundation or one of their lackeys, know that justice is coming.” He snarled. “The Loric gave us these powers and abandoned us. Forced us to fend for ourselves . . .”
Caleb glanced at Five. He took no exception to this comment, his eye continuously sweeping the area for any sign of trouble.
“This is how we do it,” Einar continued. “By banding together. By not abiding by any law they pass to control us. We will not be their pawns. They will not be our masters.” He pointed first at Sydal, then at Bea. “Beyond their confession here, we have evidence showing how these two human leeches—Wade Sydal and Bea Barnaby—have committed multiple crimes against Garde. By the time you see this, copies of that evidence will have been uploaded. We will hold both of them in our custody until such a time that the governments of the world choose to uphold justice for Garde and pro—”
A shot went off. Not from anyone in the clearing, but from one of the rooftops at the edge of town. Einar and Isabela both flinched.
The bullet hovered inches from Einar’s eye. Caught by Five’s telekinesis.
For a moment, staring at the bullet, Einar looked like he might throw up. Then, he swatted it out of the air and jerked his chin towards the rooftops.
“Five, deal with that, please. Don’t be gentle.”
Wordlessly, Five took off, flying in a blur towards whatever poor bastards were posted on the roofs. Soon, the sound of fruitless gunfire and screams reached Caleb’s ears.
Einar wiped some sweat off his forehead, despite the cold.
“Well, I don’t plan to suffer the fate of every revolutionary just yet,” he muttered. “Duanphen,” he said to the tall girl. “Go get Mrs. Barnaby. I’m afraid my restraint won’t hold if I have to do it. I’ll tend to Sydal.”
Through the mellow haze of Legacy-induced calm, Caleb watched Einar and Isabela approach their group. No one moved. Daniela and Melanie both slumped like they were drugged. Sydal’s guards, too.
Everything is fine, Caleb told himself. It’s all good. Let it happen.
But another part of him fought. Railed against Einar’s control. This wasn’t right. He needed to do something.
A duplicate popped out from Caleb. Just like it had happened a hundred times before, whenever Caleb lost control of his emotions, whenever he tried to suppress a strong feeling.
Except this duplicate was calm. Just like Einar wanted.
Caleb was not.
“I can’t let you do this,” he said, stepping forward to block Einar’s path towards Sydal.
Einar’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He focused on Caleb.
A deeper sense of calm washed over him. A drugged sleepiness.
No. Let one of his other selves feel that.
Caleb created a duplicate that sat down immediately and began sucking his thumb. His own head was clear.
“What . . . ?” Einar stopped in his tracks.
“You said you could keep them calm,” Isabela snapped, staring at Caleb.
“I am,” Einar replied. “He’s . . . doing something.”
“I agree with a lot of what you said,” Caleb said diplomatically. “Things are messed up. But this isn’t the way.”
“Caleb, this is what we wanted!” Isabela said. “Isn’t this what we spent all that time planning? We’re bringing them down! We can be free of all their bullshit . . .”
“No,” Caleb said. “You’re starting a war. You’re teaming up with a psycho who tried to kill our friend.”
Einar’s expression darkened. “Enough,” he growled. “There’s no time for this.”
A wave of
fear washed over Caleb. He made another duplicate to take on that emotion. The clone ran screaming back towards town. Caleb himself took another lurching step towards Einar, but now felt telekinetic pressure against his chest. Einar was pushing him back.
“Stop fighting me, Crane,” Einar spat, sweat now soaking the front of his shirt. “This is the way.”
Caleb took another step and howled. One of his fingers had been bent back, twisted by Einar’s telekinesis.
Isabela slapped Einar across the face. “You said you wouldn’t hurt anyone!”
“He’s forcing me,” Einar snapped.
That was all the distraction Caleb needed. He closed the distance. And then there were three of him.
All angry.
“This is for trying to kill Nigel!” The Calebs shouted in stereo.
All of them punched Einar in the face.
He went down, the calm shattered.
And all hell broke loose.
Chapter Thirty-Five
HOW THE WAR BEGINS
ENGELBERG, SWITZERLAND
LATER ON, MOST PEOPLE WILL POINT TO THE MAYHEM in California as the start of the war between the Garde and humanity.
They’re wrong.
It really started in Engelberg.
“Ma’am, we can’t let you and your . . . kids up there,” the soldier said, with a skeptical glance into the car. “There’s an avalanche advisory. Whole town has been evacuated.”
Agent Walker fumed. She sat behind the wheel of the SUV they had hurriedly rented in Zurich, fresh after teleporting in. Well, not so fresh. The Loralite stone was located in a small cave adjacent to the Rhine Falls—another rock outcropping unknown to the world except to Rabiya. Ran wondered how much Loralite there was blossoming ever upward from the earth.
They’d gotten soaked by freezing spray on the hike from the waterfalls to Zurich and their clothes were still stiff, despite running the heat nonstop for the ninety-minute drive south to Engelberg. That whole episode had earned Rabiya a cussing out from Walker. Ran enjoyed that; she liked seeing the older woman miserable.
Of course, Kopano had called the waterfall “refreshing.” Always so positive. It made Ran grind her teeth, except when his cheer also annoyed Walker.
It struck Ran that Walker thought this whole Rabiya thing was just a wild-goose chase, that the girl was simply using them to get away from her controlling father. Ran wasn’t entirely convinced of the girl’s intentions either. But she certainly didn’t mind seeing Walker made to sweat a little.
When they hit the roadblock heading to Engelberg, though, that’s when Walker started to believe. What kind of public-safety patrol wore body armor?
“By whose authority are you keeping us from passing?” Walker asked the guy manning the barricade.
He squinted at her. “Lady, by whose authority are you asking me questions? Get outta here.”
“Why does he sound American?” Kopano, sitting in the passenger seat, murmured so only the people in the car could hear.
“These men are Blackstone,” Rabiya whispered. “We must get through them if you want to get to Einar.”
The guards suddenly jerked away from their car. There were loud noises coming from up the road. Ran knew that sound.
Gunfire.
“Seriously, lady,” the guard said, turning back to Walker even as he unbuckled a buzzing walkie-talkie from his belt. “Turn around before something bad happens to you.”
“Okay, okay,” Walker said meekly. She rolled up her window and put the car in reverse. “Ran?”
“Yes?”
“I’m going to need you to blow up that barricade.”
Ran picked up a stone from a small pile that she’d collected at the waterfall. She charged it with her Legacy, the crimson glow lighting the interior of the car and reflecting in her eyes.
“As you wish.”
Nigel’s first reaction when Einar’s artificial calm broke was to cackle. The bloody ponce. Delivering his addled revolutionary speech into a cell phone camera like some John Smith knockoff and then he goes and gets his lights turned out by Caleb.
It was the most wonderful thing Nigel had ever seen.
There wasn’t enough time to savor the moment. Einar’s henchwoman—he’d called her Duanphen—was nearly back to their busted-ass ship, dragging Bea by her arm.
“Oi, world’s least-chill Buddhist!” Nigel shouted, his words carrying sharply into Duanphen’s ears so that her shoulders bunched and she flinched. “Bring back my evil mother!”
Duanphen spun to face him. Nigel lashed out with his telekinesis, mustering as much force as he could. He shoved her to the ground and Bea with her.
He saved their lives. Because that’s when the cross fire started.
Sydal’s men shot first, covering their boss’s retreat into his idiotic flying saucer. A pair of bullets struck the mercenary nearest to Nigel, thudding into his body armor and knocking him off his feet. Too close.
The mercenaries fired back, their blasters sending sizzling bolts of energy towards Sydal’s men. One dropped, his black suit scorched through. The rest were protected by a sudden flash of silver light that manifested a waist-high wall of rock. That would be Daniela, using her Legacy.
With the advantage of cover, Sydal’s men returned fire and sent the Blackstone mercenaries scrambling for the nearby fountain. Nigel felt something like a beesting on his shoulder and glanced down. He’d been grazed.
Taylor tackled him to the ground. Only seconds had passed since he knocked down Duanphen and Bea, but that seemed like an eternity when guns were blazing.
“This is a damn shit show,” he said to Taylor.
“I’ve been in way too many shoot-outs lately,” Taylor replied. “What do we do?”
Nigel glanced across the field. Duanphen and Bea were still down. The Garde had her head perked up, waiting for a break in the shooting to move. Bea lay there cowering with her hands over her head.
He sighed. “Gotta save my bloody mum. She’s probably Satan herself, but I can’t let these muppets take her.”
“You don’t need to explain,” Taylor replied. “I’ll take down the shooters.”
“You get that tracker in your arm working?”
“Yeah,” Taylor replied. “Help is on the way, hopefully.”
“Good on ya,” Nigel said. He squeezed her arm. “Right, then. Don’t die, love.”
“You neither.”
As the shooting started, Isabela grabbed Caleb around the neck and pulled him off the unconscious Einar. They fell backwards and Isabela wrapped her legs around Caleb’s torso, squeezing him tight. She was choking him.
“Look what you did, babaca!” she yelled. “We had them. We had them!”
Caleb’s duplicates reached down and pried Isabela’s arm out from under his chin. Then, a dagger of blaster fire created a hole in one of their chests, the clone vanishing into thin air. Caleb and Isabela both ended up scrambling for cover behind Daniela’s newly formed wall. Isabela used her telekinesis to pull Einar’s limp body with them.
“I can’t believe you’re on his side,” Caleb said to her.
“I’m not! I mean—” Isabela punched the ground. “I don’t know!”
“You were just choking me.”
“I’m sorry,” Isabela replied. She reached out and touched Caleb’s cheek. “I thought you were going to kill him.”
“I’m not the killer,” Caleb snapped. “He’s—he almost murdered Nigel.”
“He thought Nigel worked for the Foundation,” Isabela replied. “You don’t know how deep their corruption goes. That little slug you’re here protecting, he doesn’t care about us, Caleb. At least Einar, at least he’s one of us—”
Caleb looked around. Their wall was getting pelted by blaster fire by the Blackstone mercenaries, but it was holding. Sydal’s guards were returning fire. Melanie crouched nearby still holding that briefcase, her eyes panicked. Daniela was next to her.
Sydal was gone. He had fled back i
nto the ship.
“We can’t let them kill each other,” Caleb said.
“Why not?” Isabela replied.
Before Caleb could respond, a loud roar pierced the air.
Five was back.
He landed feetfirst on one of Sydal’s guards, crunching him up against Daniela’s wall. The burly Loric looked down, saw that Einar was beat-up and unconscious, and his face curled. Two blaster beams fired by the mercenaries struck Five in the chest but did nothing except leave scorch marks on his steel-plated skin.
The last of Sydal’s guards tried to get his gun pointed at Five, but was far too slow. Five used his telekinesis to bend the gun into a pretzel around the man’s hand, then punched him with enough force to knock three of his teeth out.
Five looked at Isabela.
“Where’s Sydal?”
She pointed inside the saucer.
“Good.” He pointed at Einar. “Watch him.”
Five stalked towards the entrance ramp.
Three Calebs stood in his way.
Taylor scrambled on her belly from her exposed position to where the rest of the mercenaries were taking cover. While these guys were obviously used to being under fire, they had less experience operating without a commanding officer. Taylor thought the XO was still alive after Five landed on him, but he was in no shape to lead.
“Jesus Christ!” one of them shouted. “Someone secure the asset!”
One of the soldiers leaped out of cover, firing wildly at Sydal’s guards, and then grabbed Taylor by her coat and hustled them both behind the fountain. Bullets whizzed by overhead, chipping away at the granite basin. A few of them returned fire while the others bickered.
“We need to get the XO! Check if he’s still alive!”
“No! He would want us to protect Barnaby. If she gets taken . . .”
“Hell with her, I’m not fighting that goddamn Lori—”
With her telekinesis, Taylor pulled the trigger on one of the blasters, firing it into the legs of the men shooting at Sydal’s guards. They screamed and collapsed as their body armor melted into their knees.
Taylor felt a pang of guilt. She’d fought alongside these guys, maybe even saved their lives before.
Fugitive Six Page 29