To test that theory, Arlo had been out on half a dozen missions, along with Mary and some backup shooters, to see if disturbing communication links helped wake up the population and make them see the truth behind State lies. So far, the results had been mixed.
This was their final test, though. Their next target would be bigger. That would give them definite proof, either way, that the messages were the problem.
“The last drone passed thirty seconds ago,” whispered Mary. “It’ll be another two minutes before any more fly by.”
“That gives us time to plant the bombs and get out of here,” said Arlo. “Are you ready?”
“As if you even need to ask, boy.” Mary gave his arm an affectionate pat.
He grinned at her. Even though they were surrounded by explosives and risking their lives, she still looked after him like a mother would.
Well, maybe like a grandmother would. His own mother had been high up in the military and was killed alongside his father in the first wave of attacks by the State. Arlo had never known his grandparents but imagined it wouldn’t be so terrible to have had a grandmother like Mary.
He lifted his wrist comm device to his mouth. “We’re ready to move.”
“We’re covering you,” said Lincoln, who was stationed on the top of the building opposite Arlo and Mary’s location.
“It’s clear on the communication channels,” said Jude from his seat back in the communications room in their underground bunker.
“We’re good to go,” said Arlo. He glanced at Mary and raised his eyebrows. “Make sure you keep up with me. If you get any slower, I’ll think you’re past it and have to get myself a younger model.”
“You cheeky thing.” She swatted his arm. “I can keep up with you and anyone half my age. My dragon side will not let me curl up with a pipe and slippers just yet.”
And she was right about that. As Arlo and his brothers learned more about the dragon hybrids who’d been joining their resistance fight over the last months, they discovered they aged at a slower rate than humans, had better healing powers, and their blood was remarkable at healing others. It meant battle injuries could heal in hours rather than weeks. Because of this, Arlo felt they were finally getting the upper hand against the State.
He handed Mary three bombs. “And you never let me forget how fit you are for an old girl.”
“A few wrinkles and some gray hair aren’t enough to slow me down.” She took the bombs, clipping each of them to a customized belt around her waist. There were a dozen clips on the belt, each one supporting the weight of a two-pound bomb. Mary loved nothing more than walking around, armed to the teeth, ready to take out anyone in the State who crossed her path. She’d yet to forgive them for taking her captive and trying to exploit her.
Arlo took a deep breath, sensing dampness in the air. He checked the sky and frowned. It felt like he hadn’t had the sun on his skin for an age. He either spent time in his workshop building more bombs or out on the recon missions, gathering supplies of weapons and medicine for everyone else in the bunker. He wasn’t alone in doing this. There were over four thousand people in the bunker. It almost felt crowded at times, so different from when they first started their fight against the State eighteen months ago. But he never felt like there was enough time to do it all. Never enough people able to help. Sometimes, the tasks seemed endless.
“After this, we’ll have a nice cup of coffee,” said Mary, seeming to sense his need for a break. “This is our third run this week. Danni must give us some downtime soon.”
“She’ll give us about five minutes of downtime if we beg her.” Dannielle Hannigan was the bunker’s leader, a former military specialist known for her no-nonsense attitude and desire for hard work from everyone. Arlo admired her, although she sometimes scared the shit out of him when she shouted.
“We’ll see about that,” said Mary. “I’m not having my boy run into the ground.”
Arlo flashed his eyebrows at Mary. “I’m yours now, am I?”
Mary snorted. “You know what I mean. It’s always good to have someone looking out for you.”
Arlo grinned to himself. He liked Mary looking out for him. It felt like a long time since anyone had done that. He had his brothers and loved the hell out of them, but they had their own issues and distractions. Most of them were getting coupled up. Heath was with Annie, Kade was with Honor, and recently, the romeo of the group, Lincoln, had fallen hard for a feisty dragon hybrid. It made Arlo pause, wonder when it would be his turn.
He shook his head, his fingers tracing over the jagged scar that ran across the left side of his jaw. He was a mess. Nothing like Lincoln, with his green eyes and flirty talk, which made women go weak at the knees. Not that Lincoln did that anymore. And, if he ever attempted to, Anastasia could quite literally burn his face off with her abilities.
No, bombing and destruction were what Arlo was good at. And he needed to keep getting better, to make sure he kept his family and everyone in the bunker safe. He hadn’t always succeeded in keeping people safe, and the memories haunted him.
He did one final check of the street. It was clear. He beckoned Mary to follow him, and they raced to the building opposite. The sign outside the front of the store said Vax Media. It was the name given to all State-authorized communication hubs.
“Are we still good?” Arlo checked in with the others through the comms link.
“The street’s still clear,” said Lincoln.
“There’s no incoming traffic,” said Jude. “No one is talking about you over the comms channels.”
That was good. “Mary, you take the right side. I’ll handle the left,” said Arlo.
She nodded before hurrying away from him, a bomb already in hand.
He watched her leave and then activated the first bomb, humming under his breath as he did so. He stuck the bomb to the wall using dual magnet casing and limpet pins. Arlo enjoyed having a partner to work with, but this was strictly a friend-only partnership. His thoughts flashed to a certain dragon hybrid he’d met months ago on a mission in the Badlands, and his humming stopped.
Juniper Firestar. Now there was a woman he wouldn’t mind having as a partner. She’d sassed him constantly when they’d worked together, not taking any nonsense from him or his brothers. Juniper was also hell on wheels when they’d ridden into the Black Zone together, brought down a State-run prison, and then escaped. And, for a time, Arlo had thought she’d stay in the bunker and join them in their fight. And she had, for a month. But then she’d left quietly one night. Juniper hadn’t even said goodbye. He’d heard a rumor she couldn’t stand being underground, stuck in a confined space with other people. He understood that, but it still bit that she hadn’t bothered to tell him she was leaving. Arlo had thought of Juniper as a friend. More than a friend. But he must have been mistaken. She had only been humoring him.
He set the second bomb onto the wall. Most women didn’t mind the scar on his face. They said it gave him character. However, they weren’t so keen on the fact he’d wake some nights, drenched in sweat, his fists clenched and his heart racing. One woman even said he’d scared her. He hadn’t meant to. Sometimes, nightmares just got him like that.
Arlo had also noticed sympathetic glances from other women, those who didn’t know his background and made up their own theories. Their ideas about him could be right, not that he cared what anyone thought. If they didn’t want him, then he didn’t want them. Juniper had never mentioned his scar. She also hadn’t spent any time in his bed, so he had no clue what she’d think about his weird night-time habits. But he’d wanted to find out. He’d wanted her in his bed. She’d gone before he’d gotten the chance to tempt her.
The final bomb was activated. Arlo took a deep breath, and a foul taste lodged in the back of his throat. Something around here stank. It was like rancid meat that had been attacked by flies. He looked over to see Mary placing her final bomb on the building.
He checked the way was still clear befo
re taking a few steps along the street. The stench intensified. What the hell had the State been doing around here to create such a stink?
As Arlo turned the corner, he stumbled, his hand reaching for the railing next to him. In front of him was a death wall. The State strung up individuals who rebelled against them. It was a way the State showed their strength, giving a clear message that if you went against them, this would be your end.
Arlo had heard of public ceremonies where people were forced to stand in front of these death walls and inspect the unfortunates who were strung up. It was a way to remind them of what would happen if they disobeyed the rules of the State.
There were twelve people hanging from this wall. Their bodies were hideously bloated and discolored, pools of rancid filth below their legs where they’d kicked out their last dying breaths.
He swallowed against the sickness he felt. He was sure two of the bodies were women. A hand touched his elbow, and Arlo jumped. Mary stood behind him, tears in her eyes.
“They are monsters.” Her words came out hoarse.
He nodded. Occasionally, Arlo forgot how tough and dangerous this life really was. He always laughed and joked with the others, but then something like this smacked him around the head. He had a life, back at the bunker, with his brothers. Arlo even included Mary as a part of his family now. And he lived to fight. He always had. Although, more recently, it was colored with a sense of despair with all the lives that had been lost and the friends who had died.
“Is everything okay down there?” Lincoln’s voice sounded over the comms.
“Just getting an unpleasant reminder as to why we’re doing this,” said Arlo. “We’re good.”
“When you get back, we’re taking a trip to the Down and Out,” said Jude. “It’s been a while since we’ve been there. McGinty’s got a new batch of imported ale. It sounds dodgy, but I’m willing to risk it if you are.”
“Where did he import it from?” asked Lincoln. “Someone’s home still?”
Jude laughed. “Most likely from his own damp cellar.”
“That sounds like headache-inducing fun,” said Lincoln. “I’ll see if Honor is free. What do you reckon, Arlo?”
“Another time,” said Arlo, his gaze still on the death wall. He turned away, taking Mary with him.
“Come on,” said Lincoln. “It’s been ages since we’ve all been out together. You need to let your hair down.”
“Or find a woman to help you loosen up,” said Jude.
“You’re a good one to talk,” muttered Arlo. “All you do is lust over Octavia.”
“She’s got a lustful sort of voice.”
“You’ve never even met her,” said Arlo. “She could be eighty with a false leg.”
“And has teeth she takes out at night,” said Lincoln. “And maybe a glass eye.”
“It’s what’s inside that counts,” muttered Jude.
“There’s nothing wrong with a mature woman,” said Mary. “I’m sure if Octavia is an older woman, she’d be able to teach all of you a thing or two.”
Some of the tension left Arlo’s shoulders as they walked farther from the death wall. “I bet she could. And I know for sure Jude would want to learn a few tricks from Octavia.”
“You see! I know I’m onto something good when it comes to Octavia.” Jude’s tone brightened.
“You’re setting yourself up for a fall,” said Lincoln. “For all we know, she could be a secret agent working for the State.”
“Her information is too good for that,” said Jude.
“That’s exactly my point,” said Lincoln. “Octavia knows too much about State movements. And, more worryingly, ours.”
“If she was going to pass on information about what we do to the State, she’d have done so by now,” said Jude. “Octavia is a good woman.”
“You’d like to make her your woman,” said Arlo. “That’s just weird. How can you fall in love with a voice?”
“I didn’t say I was in love,” said Jude. “Anyway, weren’t we talking about you and your lack of bedroom action?”
“I’m not interested.” Arlo’s thoughts jumped back to Juniper, and he shoved them away. Bombs and women didn’t mix.
“You need to get out of there.” Jude’s tone turned serious. “Lincoln, check their six. You’ve got a fast-moving vehicle coming your way.”
“I’m on it,” said Lincoln.
Arlo’s pace increased as he hurried Mary back to the alleyway and toward the bike they’d used to bring them to the site. He could handle himself in a firefight, but bombs were his preferred method of attack. He also didn’t want to risk Mary getting harmed, although she had a nifty way with a fireball when she needed to.
“How long until detonation?” asked Jude.
Arlo checked the countdown clock on his wrist. “Two minutes.”
“Shouldn’t you have left by now?”
“You know I like to see my handiwork in action.” Arlo handed Mary a helmet before placing one on his head.
“And risk getting yourself killed every time,” said Lincoln. “I’ve got the vehicle in my sights.”
“Is it state militia?” asked Arlo as he swung his leg over the bike. Mary climbed on behind him.
“Yes. A single vehicle,” said Lincoln. “Maybe you weren’t as discreet as you thought you were.”
“Or maybe the building is being monitored,” said Jude. “Since you blew up the last place, there’s been chatter online about upping security. Looks like they’ve done just that.”
“We saw no cameras,” said Arlo as he slid the bike toward the alleyway exit.
“Even so, they know you’re there,” said Jude. “It’s time to leave.”
“Just a second.” Arlo switched on the remote detonator and adjusted the time down by thirty seconds.
“Get out of there!” said Jude. “If you leave it any longer, they’ll catch you.”
“I have a plan,” said Arlo, excitement trickling down his spine.
Lincoln groaned. “Is it time to duck?”
“That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.” Arlo risked a glance out into the street and saw a flash of militia headlights as they turned the corner.
“Arlo! Get out of there. Now.” It was Heath, their unofficial group leader. He sounded pissed.
“Trust me, brother. I have done this once or twice.” Arlo waited until the militia truck slowed and the first of the soldiers climbed out, weapons already raised. He rolled the bike back a fraction and grinned, just as the bombs detonated.
Despite closing his eyes, a white flash burned through his eyelids, and for a second, Arlo saw nothing. He felt Mary’s hands digging into his sides, her head tucked wisely against his shoulder blades.
Shaking his head, he blinked his eyes several times, and the flames came into focus. Dense black smoke swirled toward him, filling his nose with hot air. The militia truck was on its side, the soldiers on the ground.
“Mission complete.” He patted Mary’s hand. “Let’s get out of here and have that cup of coffee you mentioned.” Arlo loved what he did, despite having lost count of the number of bombs he’d set. But it was the challenge of defeating the enemy he found most satisfying.
Their journey back to the underground bunker was a swift one, the streets almost empty. They only passed a few auto-taxis devoid of passengers. Lincoln sped up behind them on his own bike, having finished his sentry duty on the rooftop.
“I take it no one is following us,” Arlo said to Jude as they neared the alleyway that would take them to the concealed entrance that led into the bunker.
“The coast is clear,” said Jude. “Welcome home.”
Arlo slid the bike along the alleyway, Lincoln behind him, before stopping and climbing off. He slid a loose brick aside before he keyed in a combination code, deactivating the external alarm. A gap appeared in front of them.
Mary climbed off the bike and removed her helmet. “That was a close call, boy.”
�
�You know me and booms,” said Arlo. “I can never resist seeing my work in action.”
She grumbled under her breath. “You disobeyed Heath’s orders.”
“Just because he thinks he’s in charge, that doesn’t always make him right.”
“He is in charge of you, and he is always right,” said Mary.
Arlo tried to plant a kiss on her cheek, but she moved out of his way. “Does that mean you don’t want to work with me anymore?”
Mary frowned at him. “I’ll always work with you. And I’ll always be telling you to be more careful.”
Lincoln chuckled. “If only he’d listen to you.”
Arlo grimaced at Lincoln. His older brothers always liked bossing him around. He sometimes ignored their orders just to get a rise out of them.
Arlo grabbed the bike and followed Mary through the entrance into the bunker. Lincoln followed with his own bike. The floor sloped down, leading them into the bunker.
As he got into the vehicle bay, Heath was there, standing in front of a group of trainees. They needed more skilled people to go out on reconnaissance missions, be more active in disrupting the work of the State. Heath was leading this training, but from the frown on his face, he wasn’t enjoying it. Add to that the fact Arlo had just ignored his orders, and Heath would be doubly pissed off.
An alarm screeched overhead, and a red light flashed. Arlo halted his bike and spun around toward the exit. Someone was trying to break in.
JUNIPER SCOWLED AT the blank wall in front of her. She’d double-checked the readings on her handheld location scanner. This was the place. She was sure of it. Or was it? There was electronic activity around here somewhere, but its location kept scrambling. This was the third alley she’d tried. Every time Juniper failed to find the location of the Ember brothers’ base, she put herself at risk of being discovered by the State.
Every damn alley she’d tried looked the same. Juniper remembered coming here. She was so sure this was the right place. She let out a frustrated sigh. Or maybe not. She’d been inside the back of a Cobra when they’d first come here and had only ventured out once during her short stay. Maybe they’d moved on since then. They might need to shift location regularly to stay under State radar.
Lincoln (Ember Quest Book 3) Page 23