by Aaron Hodges
Warmth wrapped its way around her chest as she turned back to Hecate. Her hand was still in his, and twisting, she pulled him to her. His arms went around her as she pressed herself against him. She tilted back her head, and a tingle of electricity shot through her as their lips met.
Boom.
Hecate stiffened against her as an explosion rocked the night. Springing apart, they turned to stare down the slope. At the bottom of the hill, orange flames had erupted from the earth, flinging Chead in all directions. Those who had survived were scattering in every direction, dancing away from the flames, blinded by the light. But the curve of the valley hemmed them in, slowing their flight.
Looking up, Susan saw movement on the opposite hill, followed by the flash of gunfire.
“Humans,” Susan whispered.
Beside her, a guttural growl came from Hecate. Then he was moving, racing away around the hillslope, screaming unintelligible words to the Chead fleeing the flames. Still high on the hill, the flames shielded him from view of the soldiers opposite, but those in the valley below were sitting ducks.
As Susan watched, an orange ball erupted from the soldiers’ vantage point and raced down into the milling Chead. Another explosion shook the ground.
Susan clenched her teeth as the screams of the Chead carried up to her. Red rage flooded her chest and growling, she raced after Hecate, bounding through the long grass, a demon in the night.
The soldiers were positioned on the opposite hillslope, looking down into the narrow gulley the Chead had been traversing. The vanguard had stumbled straight into the trap, unable to scent the men with the breeze at their backs. But looking down into the gulley, Susan realised the humans had not been as successful as she’d first thought. The Chead were resilient, and nothing short of a bullet to the brain or heart would stop them. Already they were regrouping, their eyes adjusting to the fire, picking out the flash of gunfire on the hill. They melted into the long grass, and raced uphill towards the enemy.
The men above saw the danger and started to pull back. But Hecate and the Chead that had joined him were faster still. While those below charged up the slope, Hecate and the others raced around the curve of the valley, circumnavigating the flames in the gulley bellow. Reaching the crest of the slope, they moved onto flat ground, and raced to cut off the soldier’s retreat.
Gritting her teeth, Susan chased after them, just a few steps behind now. The soldiers were nearing the top of the hill, and from her vantage point she could see the dark gleam of their vehicles. Her chest rumbled as she realised the soldiers had been waiting for them.
Bounding forward, she narrowed the gap between her and Hecate, even as the Chead on the other slope reached the first of the soldiers. Screams carried across the valley, and she grinned. Other soldiers were already closing on the vehicles. They had thrown away their weapons to quicken their escape, thinking the only danger was below them.
But as the first soldier to reach the vehicles leapt into the driver’s seat and started the engine, Hecate was on him. Before the man’s comrades could throw themselves inside, Hecate smashed a fist through the plate glass window and tore the man from his seat. His scream echoed across the hillside as Hecate crashed his skull like an orange.
Then the other Chead were there, those below and above converging on the fleeing soldiers, cutting off their only escape route. Susan leapt forward to join them, driving a man from his feet and landing on his chest. The coward had already discarded his rifle, and he died defenceless, screaming as she tore him to pieces.
Vision stained red, Susan bared her teeth and looked around for a fresh victim. Her eyes settled on a soldier still carrying a rifle. As she watched, the gun flashed, and somewhere behind her she heard a Chead howl. Screaming, she leapt forward, tearing the weapon from the soldier’s hands. Raising it like a bat, she started to swing it at the soldier’s head, and froze.
The soldier’s helmet had fallen loose with Susan’s attack, revealing a mop of long curly hair. Stumbling back, the woman soldier tripped on a patch of grass and crumpled to the ground. Susan drove a foot down into her stomach. The soldier gasped, winded by the blow, pinned down by Susan’s weight.
Grinning, Susan waited as her brethren finished off the last of the soldiers. Cornered, they hardly put up a fight. The loss of the vehicles had broken them, and they fled in all directions, only to be brought down by the chasing Chead.
Finally, silence returned to the night. The woman had caught her breath now, but she lay still on the grass, staring up at Susan with hate-filled eyes. Susan only smiled back at her. More of the prisoners had declined life than they had expected, and there were still a few doses left. Perhaps this creature would prove smarter than the pitiful ones in the town.
As the Chead gathered on the top of the hill, Susan allowed her eyes to drift back to the glow of the fire. The scent of blood and ash was heavy on the air, though the flames were quickly beginning to die. The bodies of soldiers dotted the hillslope, their camouflaged uniforms blending in with the long grass. But it was to the bottom of the valley that her eyes were drawn.
There, dozens of Chead lay dead amidst the embers, many riddled with bullets, others burnt and torn by the explosive rockets used by the humans. And in the centre of the Chead, their bodies broken, their new lives cut short, were the women they had taken from the last town. They had been among the first to fall, their lingering humanity hampering their instincts, slowing them enough for the soldiers to pick them off. Only a few appeared to have survived the slaughter.
Gritting her teeth, Susan forced herself to look away. Her eyes fell on the woman at her feet, and she felt the rage threatening, begging to be released.
It could have been me!
Swallowing, she forced the rage back down. Now was not the time. She needed Hecate, needed Talisa, needed to protect her children. Reaching down, she picked the woman up off the ground and dragged her through the Chead.
When she found them, they were gathered together at the edge of the hillside, staring down at the slaughter below. Talisa looked up as Susan approached, her white eyes glowing in the moonlight.
“My child,” she murmured, her eyes flickering to Susan’s prisoner. “What have you brought me?”
Susan forced the woman forward so that she fell to her knees at Talisa’s feet.
“A gift, Talisa,” she whispered.
Chapter 14
The car screeched around the corner and straightened out. With the headlights off and the streetlights out, the only light came from the full moon. In the back, Liz held on for dear life as Maria took another corner. Mira sat in the front seat, staring back at them, a low moan coming from the back of her throat. But Liz had no time to worry about the girl now.
Jasmine’s head lay in Liz’s lap, her long black hair dangling across her face. Her breathing was shallow, coming in desperate gasps, and her eyelashes fluttered as she struggled to remain conscious. There was blood on Jasmine’s lips, and her clothing was stained red. Her brown eyes stared up at Liz with unmasked terror.
“Hang in there, Jas,” Liz whispered, pressing the ruined bundle of her shirt to the gaping wound in Jasmine’s chest. Blood had already begun to seep through, and Liz knew more must be dripping from the smaller entry wound in her back.
“Doing…my best…” Jasmine coughed. A flicker of pain passed across her face as Maria took another corner. She was going far too fast for the suburban streets, but it wouldn’t take long for the soldiers to realise someone had gotten clear of their perimeter. They needed to get as far away as possible, before the soldiers could close a net around them.
Fortunately, the broad oak trees lining the streets in this part of the city provided shelter from any eyes above. Glancing out the window, Liz searched for the lights of a chopper, but there was nothing yet. They had to get off the streets before the soldiers called in backup.
But none of that mattered if Jasmine bled out in the backseat of the car. Twin Peaks Hospital was close.
Going there would mean giving Jasmine over to the authorities, but Liz couldn’t face watching another friend die. It had taken a few dire threats, but Maria was heading there now. They would have to leave Jasmine with the first doctor they saw, but it was better than the alternative.
As if reading her mind, Jasmine’s eyes flickered open. “Where are we…going…Liz?”
Liz stroked the hair from her friend’s eyes. “It’s okay, we’re taking you to the hospital. You’ll be alr–”
“No,” Jasmine’s hand flashed out and caught Liz by the wrist. Despite her injuries, she was still shockingly strong.
“Jasmine…” Liz began.
“No,” Jasmine repeated, eyes wide. She shook her head. “I’m not going…back…Liz. No hospital.”
Liz bowed her head, tears steaming in her eyes. But there was no give in Jasmine’s voice. She stared up at Liz, her fingers digging into her wrist.
“Maria,” Liz croaked finally.
“I heard her,” Maria replied, her voice soft, “There’s a park nearby. We’ll hide out there for the night.”
Nodding, Liz looked down at Jasmine, her stomach tying itself in knots. She was at least as bad as Ashley had been after being shot from the sky. Only Doctor Halt and the resources at the facility had saved Ashley from death then. What chance did Jasmine have of even surviving the night?
It took them another ten minutes to reach the park. Maria had slowed down by then to avoid unwanted attention, though just being outside was breaking curfew at this point. As they drove through the entrance, Liz glimpsed a sign that read Lake Merced Park. She guessed it was one of the green spaces she’d flown over during her midnight flights, but she didn’t recognise the name.
They parked the car beneath a grove of peppermint willow trees to hide it from circling helicopters and bailed out. A toilet block hid the vehicle from the road, and Liz hoped it would be enough to conceal it from any passing patrols. If not, it wouldn’t take the soldiers long to realise the backseat was stained with blood. Then the whole weight of the government would come crashing down on them.
Lifting Jasmine into her arms, Liz carried her through the park, allowing Maria to take the lead. They walked for ten minutes before coming to a grove of pine trees. Ducking beneath the low hanging branches, they moved into the shelter of the trees.
Dry pine needles crunched as Mira set about making a bed, and then Liz carefully lowered Jasmine down. Her friend’s emerald wings tumbled limply out to either side of her as Liz released her, and her head lolled loosely against the ground. The bleeding seemed to have slowed, but the bullet had left a gaping inch-wide-hole in Jasmine’s chest.
A harsh cough tore through Jasmine, and blood bubbled between her lips. It was several minutes before she recovered, her breath returning to a strained wheeze. Maria offered her a handkerchief from her pocket, and Liz used it to wipe the blood from Jasmine’s face.
Then she sat back on her haunches and watched her friend struggle to breathe, feeling an awful helplessness in the pit of her stomach. Jasmine’s eyes were closed now, though her body was still taught, her fingers clenched in claws. The harsh lines of a scowl marked her forehead.
We should have taken her to the hospital.
But it was too late for second thoughts now. Liz doubted Jasmine could survive another wild ride in the car—at least not without rest. Sweat beaded Jasmine’s forehead and goosebumps stood up on her skin. Liz used the other side of the handkerchief to wipe her friend’s face, and then stretched her wings to cover her. She felt a tremor run through Jasmine.
“I don’t want to die, Liz,” Jasmine’s voice whispered in the darkness.
Liz looked down, and saw her friend’s eyes were open again. A tear ran down Jasmine’s cheek, and Liz saw her terror as their eyes met. Reaching out, Liz wrapped her gloved hand around Jasmine’s fingers.
“You’re not going too,” she said with as much conviction as she could summon, “You’re going to be fine, Jas. You’re strong. You’re not going to let a little bullet stop you.”
Jasmine smiled, but the movement triggered another fit of coughing, and it was several minutes before she had the strength to speak again.
“It hurts so much,” she said at last, breathless, “Do you think it hurt…for him…at the end?”
Liz shivered. She didn’t need to ask who Jasmine was talking about. Silently she saw again Richard’s last moments, before a dozen bullets tore through his body. She let out a long breath. “I don’t know.”
Jasmine gave the slightest of nods. “I guess…no one does,” her voice was barely a whisper, “At the end...”
“Jasmine…”
“Promise me,” Jasmine cut her off. Liz blinked, not understanding, until Jasmine’s head turned and her eyes found Liz’s. “Don’t…lose yourself…Liz. We need…your heart.”
A smile touched Liz’s lips. “I won’t,” she shook her head, “but you’re not going anywhere, Jas. Just…save your strength.”
Nodding, Jasmine closed her eyes. Her breath softened, and for a while Liz thought she’d fallen asleep. She sat in the darkness, Jasmine’s hand wrapped in her own, watching the slow rise and fall of her friend’s chest. The bleeding had stopped now—at least outwardly—but her usually tanned skin had lost all its colour.
“I didn’t hesitate…you know,” Liz jumped as Jasmine spoke suddenly.
She glanced down, but Jasmine’s eyes were still closed. Before Liz could ask what Jasmine meant, she went on.
“It was me…or Chelsea. She was my friend…but I didn’t even hesitate.”
“We all chose ourselves, Jas,” Liz said softly, “That’s why we’re here.”
“Not…Richard,” she sighed then, a long, harsh exhalation that seemed to go on and on.
Shaking her head, Liz couldn’t find the words to argue. What more could she say? Tears burned her eyes and she squeezed Jasmine’s hand again. After a moment, she realised something had changed in the grove of trees. A heavy silence now hung over the air, and looking around, she searched for the difference.
Then, heart pounding, she looked back at Jasmine.
“Jas?” She leaned closer, waiting for a response. Only then did she realise why it was so quiet.
“Jasmine!” she shrieked.
Releasing her friend’s hand, she grasped Jasmine by the shoulders and shook her. Jasmine’s head lolled to the side, but her eyes remained closed. A thin trail of blood ran from her mouth. Her chest was still, her breath silent.
“Jasmine!” Liz screamed again.
But Jasmine did not reply.
She was already gone.
Chapter 15
Sam sat and held his hands out to the tiny flame burning on the concrete floor. It was all they could manage in the abandoned basement, and soon even that would be gone. The little collection of old magazines and newspapers they’d found in the corner would not last long.
He looked across at Jocelyn and her children and cursed under his breath. He shouldn’t blame her, but he couldn’t help it. It was her husband’s fault, foolishly keeping their meeting a secret, but it was clear he had already suffered for his stupidity. Yet here she sat, alive and well, while Sam’s friends were likely dead, their hopes of striking back at the government ruined.
At least the children were safe. He could not hold the crimes of their father against them. How exactly the government agents had managed to track the man—despite Harry’s precautions—he might never know. Unlike their fledgling resistance, the Director was not limited to twentieth century technology. Satellites or street cameras or GPS tracking; any one of them could have done it. All he knew was, they’d been found.
Sam had arrived at the safehouse well before the van. There had been lights and vehicles everywhere, and from his vantage point high in the sky he had taken in the destruction that had been wrought on the house. He hadn’t waited around to be spotted, but he’d lingered long enough to see the walls. They’d looked more like a cheese grater than solid wo
od.
Turning in the air, he’d headed off the van and diverted them away from the house. Knowing they had to get off the streets, they’d found an abandoned building nearby and hidden the van around back. It had been the best they could do at that point. They wouldn’t have gotten far with the soldiers crawling over the neighbourhood.
Now, morning was fast approaching, and Sam was no closer to knowing what had happened. He could still hear the choppers circling outside, and hoped it meant at least someone had gotten away. There was another safehouse they could have retreated too—though only those not involved with the next attack knew its location. Looking around at the other men, he cursed as he realised none of them knew where it was.
“It’s all over,” James was saying, his voice low, though the children would have no problem hearing him, “They’ve won.”
“Looks that way,” another of the men replied miserably.
“Maybe the girl was right,” James muttered, looking across at the family, “Maybe the doctor betrayed us.”
“Not deliberately,” Sam’s feathers bristled as he spoke over their muttering,
“How do you know?” Harry snapped back.
“Because we’re still alive. If it’d been a setup, we would have all been dead the moment we stepped into the apartment,” Sam growled. He nodded at the doctor’s wife, “They were watching her, waiting for her husband to show up. When he dropped by, they were probably listening to their conversation about the Mad Women and followed him. Whatever precautions you took brining him to the safehouse weren’t enough – he led them straight to us.”
James snorted. “So what now?”
“Any of you know the location of the next safehouse?” Sam asked.
When none of them answered, he nodded. “We have too–”
“We don’t have to do anything,” James said, standing, “You may not see it, but I do. We’ve already lost. There’s nowhere left to run. May as well give ourselves up now.”