Raining Fire

by Rajan Khanna

  “Fine,” he says at last, and moves off, his people trailing him.

  “Thanks,” I say to Mal.

  Mal just shakes his head and moves on.

  Diego and Rosie move with determination. Even if I killed the friendship with both of them, they still care for Miranda. They’ve known her since we first arrived at Tamoanchan, and she never failed them, not in the way that I did. And the truth is that I’m glad to have them here, with me. Because even if I don’t make it out of there, I know that they’ll find a way to get Miranda out, and there are very few people I would trust to make that happen. With the exception of Claudia, they’re all here.

  The city shudders again, and this one sends us all to the ground.

  “We have to hurry,” I say.

  Even with our measured pace, my leg, where the Valhallan knifed me, is staring to ache. My ankle, where I hit the top of the Argus (or rather the Dumah), feels weak and watery. Even worse, I don’t have a weapon—not a good one. All I have is the knife I took from the Valhallan, and my last nail. Great, Ben. You’re in wonderful shape for a rescue mission in the heart of Valhalla.

  “There,” Mal says, suddenly. He points to a tall building with windows on its upper floors. “That should be it.”

  Stairs lead up to the entrance, a set of double doors set squarely in the side.

  “We all go together,” Mal says. He pulls his rifle forward, within easy reach. Diego and Rosie do the same. I pull out the knife.

  We mount the stairs and move to the double doors. Mal reaches for the handles and hauls them open.

  Then the air fills with thunder and Mal falls backward in a spray of blood.

  * * *

  Diego and Rosie retreat behind the stairs and start firing into the building.

  I catch Mal as he falls, drag him out of the line of fire, down into the street.

  He’s covered in blood, swimming in it, and it’s all over me, too. This should scare me, but I can’t let go of him. I get him to the ground and cradle him like a baby. “Just hang on,” I say. “We’ll get you help. We’ll get you out of here.”

  I know that it’s nonsense. There’s no help. Not here. Not now.

  “Benjamin,” Mal says. It’s a breathy gasp. He shudders as the pain of his injuries ripples through him. He looks up at me. “It’s too much.”

  “No,” I say. I hold him tighter. “No. We’ll find someone.”

  “Benjamin . . .”

  Tears fill my eyes, and through them I can see how pale his face is. Still feel the wetness all over him. He grunts. “I’d hoped . . .” He sucks in air. “There’s still so much I wanted to do.”

  “I know,” I say, smoothing back the hair from his face.

  He nods, then winces. “It’s okay,” he says. “I found . . . I found a home for my people. . . . I-I struck back against our enemies. I can go, knowing I . . . I fulfilled my promises.”

  He doesn’t mean it to sting, but it does. When I think of all the promises I’ve left unfinished.

  He coughs, and bloody froth coats his lips.

  “Benjamin . . .”

  He looks up at me, unguarded. Strangely childlike.

  “Benjamin.”

  “What?”

  He smiles, weakly. “You know the reason I liked you so much? Why I considered you a friend?” He coughs again. “Because I saw greatness in you. Buried, yes, but there. Almost . . . almost to match my own.” One arm, slick with blood, reaches up to grab my own. “But you’ve always been too afraid to embrace it. You’ve spent your life in the sky, but you’ve always been pulled down. By your doubt. Your fear. . . . Afraid to let go and fly.”

  A groan erupts from him, and he flexes against the pain. He grimaces.

  It passes and he meets my eyes. His hand reaches up from my arm, grabs my cheek. “Embrace your greatness,” he says.

  I stare at him, wide-eyed.

  A smile creases his face. His smile is a red gash in his face. “This time,” he says. “This time, I definitely got there first.” Then his eyes glaze over, leaving a lifeless face looking up at me.

  My vision blurs and I hold him close, for a moment, until gunfire breaks me out of the stillness.

  * * *

  I don’t want to leave Mal, but Diego and Rosie are pinned down by gunfire. So I untangle Mal’s rifle from his bloody body and get to my feet. I wait until there’s a pause in the shooting, then, signaling to Diego and Rosie to cover me, I bound up the steps from the opposite side, firing at two Valhallans there. My eyes are still filled with tears, and there’s a cold rage inside of me. I feel joy as I gun the two men down.

  High on my victory, I swivel around the doors, panning the rifle to the other side. But before I can find a target, the rifle barrel is batted up toward the ceiling, then out of my hands. A large man, with large hands, grabs me and throws me into the wall.

  My head slams up against the plaster, and tiny white stars explode across my vision. His arm hits me in the midsection, and I feel a rib crack, then his hand closes on my neck, choking me.

  The face seems to be made of steel, the bald head hard and shining. A tattoo, a fiery sword, stabs down one eye. The eyes fixed on me are cold and dead, like ashes. I reach for the knife, but my hands are weak, ineffectual. I think this is it, so close to the end. So close to seeing Miranda again.

  Then a large, dark shape slams into the bald man. I recognize Diego as he tries to wrestle the Valhallan. Diego’s big, but this man is bigger. He joins his hands together and hammers them into Diego’s head, then his body.

  I’m on the floor, having slid down the wall, sucking in breath. I manage to pull the knife from its sheath.

  Then Rosie walks in and fires her gun at the ceiling. All eyes turn to her.

  The big man stops trying to pound Diego’s skull into the floor. And two people step forward into the hallway. The first is Maya, the traitorous scientist we brought back into Tamoanchan. One of the people who introduced the Enigma virus to the island and who later escaped.

  The other is Miranda.

  I gasp. My eyes aren’t completely dry from Mal’s death, but they fill up again when I see her. Standing there. Looking much like when I left her. Her hair is shorter. But she looks good. She’s alive.

  Maya moves forward to Rosie, who is frozen. Back on Tamoanchan they had something going. Not just a fling, either. Maya meant something to Rosie.

  “Rosie,” Maya calls out. They both are still, staring at each other across the space. “You’re here.”

  Rosie doesn’t say anything.

  “I know,” Maya says. “I know that I have a lot to answer for. That there’s a lot of . . . complications between us. But . . .”

  “But what?” Rosie asks. Her voice is hard, but her face looks hopeful somehow.

  “I’ve missed you.” Maya steps forward. I don’t trust a word that comes out of her mouth, but she seems sincere. “I was sent to Tamoanchan on a mission, yes. But . . . What we had was real.”

  “Why should I believe you?” Rosie asks.

  “You probably shouldn’t,” Maya says. “I probably wouldn’t. Believe me. But you were there. Those nights. Together.” Another step forward. “I think you felt what I felt.” Another step. “I think you know it. Here.” She reaches out and presses Rosie on her chest.

  Rosie’s eye fill with tears, and Maya’s cheeks glisten. “Please,” Maya says. “This place is falling apart. Let’s go somewhere and talk.” Her hand goes to Rosie’s cheek. Rosie lowers the rifle.

  Maya leans forward and kisses Rosie, and for a moment, the whole of Valhalla seems to center on this place, on this kiss. It goes on for a long time, and Maya’s arms encircle Rosie, even as Rosie’s are down at her side, slack, as if reluctant but unwilling to protest. They kiss, and it’s one of the most intense kisses I’ve ever seen (as few as I’ve actually seen).

  When Maya eventually pulls away, their faces are both covered with tears. Maya smiles.

  Rosie smiles.

  Then
Rosie raises her rifle and fires five shots into Maya’s body.

  The whole room freezes, and Maya arcs backward, blood in the air, before she falls onto the floor.

  * * *

  Rosie bends down to look at Maya, mouthing something inaudible, and the big Valhallan takes advantage of her distraction to attack. He throws his huge arms around her neck, trying to lock her into a hold.

  I scramble to my feet, the spell broken. I run toward them.

  Rosie breaks the hold and spins into a kick.

  The Valhallan catches her foot and with a quick drop of his elbow slams down into Rosie’s leg. The crack is loud enough for all of us to hear. Rosie shrieks in pain. Then the Valhallan kicks her and steps forward, backhanding her, causing her to spin away.

  “Surtr!” Miranda cries, as she runs to Rosie. Surtr turns to Miranda even as I stalk up to the him, the knife still in my hand. He’s facing away, and I pull back for a strike, but as I lash out, he pivots and bats my arm away with the flat of one hand. I keep hold of the knife, but my arm goes numb.

  The Valhallan falls into a fighting stance.

  I’m in trouble. He’s better trained, he’s stronger, and he has a longer reach. But all I need to do is buy some time.

  “Miranda,” I call. “Take Rosie and Diego and get out of here.”

  “I can’t,” she says.

  “What?” I say.

  Surtr moves in. I lash out with the knife again. This time he pulls back, lets it sail past, then kicks me in the ribs, and follows up with a punch to my face.

  I stumble back, but he doesn’t press the advantage. I still have hold of the knife. It’s my only edge in this fight.

  The pain from my ribs radiates up into my chest and all across my torso. Every breath sends a jolt through me.

  Run, Miranda.

  I can’t see where she is and I don’t want to risk looking. Instead I strike again. I imagine myself like a snake, whipping out my right arm in a quick attack.

  Surtr moves, and then everything gets crazy. One hand grips my left arm. The other grabs my right hand, the one with the knife, and he bends it toward me. I gasp as the knife scrapes against the shirt Mal gave me.

  He pulls the right arm toward him, then, and I can’t pull it away. He twists my wrist, and suddenly he has the knife.

  He plunges it into my chest.

  I cry out as the blade slips in, as it scrapes against my ribs. Suddenly it’s a lot harder to breathe. I look down. My hand is on his, preventing the knife from going all the way in, but the tip is inside of me.

  I push back against the Valhallan, but he slams a fist into my face and I fall.

  I gasp on the floor.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  MIRANDA

  I bend over Rosie, trying to stabilize her. She has a clear fracture in her leg where Surtr struck her, and I’m pretty sure she’s in shock. Ben wants me to go, but I can’t go without Dimitri. Or the data.

  That Ben is alive and Rosie and Diego are alive, after all that happened . . . it was too much to hope for. But Rosie’s injury is serious and I can’t even get to Diego at the moment.

  Surtr sinks a knife into Ben’s chest. Ben’s eyes roll up for a moment, and he falls to the ground.

  I get to my feet without thinking, and run at Surtr.

  I don’t have any weapons, but I have to stop him.

  Surtr is bending down over Ben. He sees me at the last second and tries to turn to me, but I barrel into him and send both of us sprawling to the ground.

  He quickly throws me off, but I scramble to my feet.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time,” he says, his voice a deep, cracking sound.

  I hesitate for a moment. I’m not a fighter. I never have been. Surtr has spent his life training for this and only this.

  But he killed Clay and he’s going to kill Ben, so I move. Not to Surtr, but to the gun lying on the ground, the one that one of the guards dropped in the firefight. Kneeling on the ground, braced, I raise it at Surtr, my finger reaching for the trigger.

  Then I stop, my finger shaking and rigid. Because Surtr is holding Ben, hauling him up with one arm. “Go on,” he says. “Shoot me.”

  “Put him down, Surtr.”

  He sneers, then spits. There is something so crude and masculine about him that I feel like pulling the trigger, just to stop him from being. But I hold myself back.

  Surtr smiles broadly. He moves toward me, holding Ben up like a shield. Ben’s head lolls on his chest. His eyelids flicker, but he doesn’t seem fully conscious.

  Then Surtr cocks his head to the side, lowers Ben down, and gets a good grip on his head with one massive hand. “Put the gun down.”

  I hesitate.

  “Now. Or I snap his neck.”

  I lower the gun to the ground.

  Surtr’s grin grows wider. “Slide it to me,” he says.

  I slide it across the floor to him, almost to his feet. With his hand still on Ben’s head, Surtr bends down, placing the knife on the floor and raising the rifle up.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” he says.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Images, shapes, shadows flicker. Pain is the one constant, the endless scratch of the needle against the record. Every now and then the needle skips or jumps and the pain jumps with it.

  Then words come in over the song of pain, and they’re ugly words in an ugly voice. I rise and fall again, and something grips my head. I smell oil. Metal. And blood. It’s difficult to breathe, but I can smell.

  As I come back to where I am, I see Miranda straight ahead of me, her face full of worry and concern. The huge Valhallan, Surtr, the one who stabbed me, the one who turned up the music, the song, grips my head with his left hand. He leans down and with his right hand he puts the knife on the ground, picking up a rifle.

  I took the knife from a Valhallan. I think I should give it back.

  I break free from his grip as he’s rising up again, and reach for the knife. I grab it up in my hands and sink it to the hilt into Surtr’s crotch.

  Surtr roars, and the rifle shoots out in response. I look to Miranda, but she’s already scurrying for cover.

  Surtr slams one fist into my head, and I fall away. It’s hard to stay conscious and everything here is filled with pain, but that’s what I use to hold onto, to keep me here, and when I can, I start moving away, putting ground between me and the him.

  When I look up, Surtr has removed the knife from his groin and has let it fall to the ground from bloodstained fingers. His face is the angriest thing I’ve ever seen, red and rigid, lips skinned back from his teeth, his canines two sharp points in his mouth. He raises the gun and sprays the room with bullets.

  I scramble away, looking for cover, not finding anything.

  Diego runs up behind Surtr and wraps his enormous arms around the man, pinning the gun arm to his side.

  Surtr slams his head back, and Diego’s nose breaks with a loud crunch. He wavers for a second but retains his hold on the man. They’re both struggling now. Surtr is taller, but Diego is broader. It’s a toss-up as to who’s stronger.

  Surtr throws his head back again, into the bloody ruin of Diego’s face. Diego stays upright but starts to sway. Surtr tries to break free.

  I leap to my feet and run forward. I kick at Surtr’s crotch, where the knife went in. It’s a solid hit. Surtr’s mouth drops open and he sucks in air.

  “Ben!” Miranda yells, and I turn to see her handing me the bloody knife, the handle out toward me.

  I grab the handle, feel the sticky blood all over it.

  I look up at Surtr. “You dropped this,” I croak. Then I jam it up under his chin and into his head.

  There’s a look of surprise and astonishment on the man’s face. Then his eyes freeze, the painted flames on his skin still hot, the pupils growing large and cold. Diego lets go, and Surtr falls to the ground. Diego teeters on his feet, his face a mess of blood, the nose crushed, but he’s alive. Grateful, I
grab his arm and give him a nod. He nods back.

  Then I turn and Miranda is there. Miranda is in my arms and I’m in hers, and through all the pain, and the spinning, and the labored breathing, I have a moment of peace. A profound sense of things being right. Of things being joined correctly, seated together, connecting the way they are supposed to.

  “I thought you were dead,” she says.

  I laugh and taste blood in my mouth. “That’s my line.”

  “Your chest!” she says. She starts stripping cloth from her shirt and from mine and wrapping it around me. Stopping the bleeding. There’s pain, but all that I can take in is her face. I’ve missed that face.

  The ground shakes beneath us, and I remember where we are. “We need to get out of here,” I say. “The city won’t last much longer.”

  “I can’t,” she says. “Not yet.”

  “Why?”

  “Ben, they have more data here than anywhere I’ve ever seen. I’ve been working on a vaccine. We’ve made strides. This is too important to lose.”

  “But, Miranda . . .”

  “I’m not leaving without it,” she says.

  I should be mad. I’m surprised I’m not. But this is Miranda. I know her. If she says it’s important, then it is. She’s always been our best hope at a better future.

  I turn to Diego. “Take Rosie,” I say. “Find us a ship.”

  “You want me to leave?” His voice is distorted by the broken nose.

  “I’m going with Miranda,” I say. “I won’t leave her alone. Not this time. But we’re going to need a way off of this place before it completely falls apart. Can you do it?”

  He looks at me, then at Miranda. “I think so, yeah. It won’t be easy with Rosie, but we’ll find something. But how will you find us?”

  Miranda nods. “We have to go up,” she says. “When you have the ship, go to the top of this building. We’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay,” he says. “Good luck.”

  “Same to you.”

  Then I turn to Miranda. “Come on. Let’s go get your data.”

  * * *