Remy shrugged.
I clenched his shirt around his chest. “And don't spout whatever that was about my parents. For all you know, that's a rumor.”
He broke my grip and leaned close. “Just because you're here doesn't mean I have to like it or even talk with you.” He squinted at me, and I saw a brief flash of doubt in his eyes. At last, it sunk in how dangerous this Verge jump was for him. He was needed and had his ass on the line at the same time, and the most ever in his life. And he was alone on this. Without another word, he brushed past me, headed outside.
I had never heard for sure what happened to Mom and Dad, and the fact I even entertained the possibility that what he said was true bothered me. Sure, Realignment was a thing, and they targeted Deviants for it. But were the plants by Lebabolis true, so the Action would be squashed before it ever started? Was that why Baudricort kept everyone spread out and always moving?
While the rest of the group checked the gear for the trip, I found Otto back in the Encampment lab.
“You'd tell me if you knew something, right?” I asked.
He stopped. “Of course. You're my friend... Hey, Remy's nuts. I was in advanced training with the guy, remember? I don't know where that came from, honest.” He managed a small smile.
Otto’s word was enough for now. But when I got back, Baudricort owed me answers.
#
The ride to the Verge site took twenty minutes. I was even happier than before for the seating arrangements. Remy pretended I no longer existed, which was fine with me.
I stared out the window into the wilderness. It wasn't all the way dark outside, but it was pretty close. I braced myself against the vehicle’s jostling and thought back for any sliver of a memory about my parents. I’d never heard they disappeared because of Realignment, those were posted on the MODOSNet update anyway. They wanted everyone to know who broke the rules and also that we saw how far and how small their mercy went. No one I asked in my housing unit knew either. Treg thought they were held for interrogation, but nothing was ever known.
My com unit buzzed to life, and I saw Treg's face on the screen.
“Hey, nice to see you.” I smiled.
“Everything decent?”
I glanced toward the front of the vehicle. “Your guy’s OK. But, Remy. Of everyone they could've stuck me with. Yeesh.”
Treg squinted. “Oh yeah, he's a prick. Least you won't be around him for long. They scout the Verge location?”
“Otto gave us the rundown.”
“Good. Ya know, I saw one of those symbols again.”
I sat up. “Yeah? Like the ones from the buildings?”
He nodded. “In a clearing not far from the new Encampment spot. I was scouting the area.”
“Yeah, Otto mentioned finding out more about those symbols. He said it might be the Omegans.”
“Whatever it is, we're on high alert. No sense taking chances.”
“Exactly. Well, I'm gonna get wherever I can when this is over and will let you know.”
“Please do. I'll let you know what I can about Baudricort.”
I touched his face on the screen. “Thanks. See you soon, I hope.”
Chapter 8 (Ana)
W e pulled up a hundred feet or so from the time rip location. At least five Lebabolis troops stood guard around it, and who knew how many more waited in the woods? A concrete bunker stood about fifty feet from the Verge point. I winced at the structure, a relic from when people attempted installation of power generation facilities around Valentium deposits. I looked at the concrete castle and wondered how many lives that little experiment cost.
Yag and Wick kept low, their rifles pointed toward the Verge. Their optical scopes checked the visible soldiers, their weapon stores, and body armor types. Remy watched for anyone behind or to the side of us.
I shivered and ran my hands under my armpits in the gentle breeze.
“So much for slipping past unnoticed,” Remy said.
Yag wiped his brow. “We can double back later, look for an alternate spot.”
Remy shook his head. “No, there are none that close. Remember, the longer we wait, the more time they have to kill Xander.”
Remy peered at the Verge with a bit of awe mixed with that scared look he flashed me back at the Encampment. I watched the center of the Verge. An amber colored ball that was the size of an average person lit the immediate area.
Remy wiped his brow. “Anyone near that will be a major target.”
Wick motioned toward the Landcrawler, and we met back there. I shoved a few branches back to squat down, and I was rewarded with scratches on my hands. Wick held up a few disk shaped objects. They weren’t guns or anything Treg had shown me before. “We're not letting anyone stop this party. I've got mines; if we get them close enough each of these can take out at least two people.”
“If they're close enough,” Yag said.
Remy eyed the mines. “Think it'll work?”
“As far as surprise, it’s as good as we got. Once that happens, we'll lay down fire. You haul ass to that Verge point,” Wick said.
Remy nodded. “And where should we be when you do this?”
Yag looked toward the Verge point. “Close by where we were a minute ago. We'll fan out in an arc. Stand in between Wick and me. We'll throw them. Soon as they pop, haul your skinny ass into that light.”
“What about me?” I asked.
“Stay close to me, and keep low,” Wick replied.
We crept back up toward the Verge, and got into position. As Wick checked the mines, I looked over to Yag and Remy, crouched low and ready.
“Treg said a lot of good things about you, Wick.”
He smiled as he set the mine controls. “Did he now? He's a good fella.”
“Yeah, too bad he couldn't have taken Remy's place.”
“Ahhh, don't worry about that guy. He's more pissed he don’t have a better job yet. Like we're all in the Action to be the honcho.”
Wick caught Yag's attention, and with several hand signals, they got ready. They almost activated the mine sequences when the sound of thunder rolled across the sky above us. A Hell Hawk descended fast, and came to a shuddering halt a little above tree top level. The gust of hot wind tossed leaves, twigs and other debris around us along with that familiar rotten smell of hot rotten death engine exhaust. We crouched next to the tree, and kept still. Wick signaled Yag “stand down”, and we all eyed the hovercraft.
OK, either they had a trace on this area and found a few extra heat signatures, or this was just some kinda social call.
The Hell Hawk descended a bit further, into the clearing around the Verge, and a man leapt out. Whoever it was, he was easily the tallest one. He wore a backpack and addressed the nearby soldiers, who got in line pretty quick. Whoever it was, they were important.
Their clothes were strange, nothing I'd ever seen anyone here wear.
Well, I’d seen it, but somewhere else.
I swallowed hard when I realized why I recognized the garb. When you saw pictures of clothing from a centuries old cache, you remembered a thing or two.
“He's going back. To the time Remy is,” I said.
“What?” Wick whispered. “How do you even know?”
“A hunch.” I sighed. “He's dressed for it. Bet he’s going for Xander.”
“So where’d he get those ancient clothes?” Wick asked.
I wished I knew. We watched as the man stood near the time rip zone and waved the Hell Hawk clear.
“Wick, the aftershock,” I whispered, and he nodded. He signaled Yag to be ready. Each held their mines up.
I watched the soldiers as they moved back as well. Two of ‘em took shelter in the bunker.
The man stepped into the time rip. A loud thump shook the ground, and I wobbled a bit. The swarm of electrical tentacles lashed out and came close to a few soldiers to the right of us.
The leaves and branches about us rustled loudly as everything shimmered about us. A hum foll
owed, so loud it was all I heard for several moments.
As the aftershock faded, Wick and Yag tapped the releases on their mines and tossed ‘em. Wick's flew fifteen feet, bounced a bit and landed on the ground about ten feet from the Verge. Yag's landed twenty feet from the Verge.
I ducked low and waited for the blasts. Nothing.
“Damnit!” Wick said.
Lights stabbed the darkness, and the air around us lit with pulse fire. I fell to the ground as Wick and Yag returned fire. I looked up enough to see Remy as he half crawled, half scrambled to his feet toward the Verge.
Wick charged the bunker, and before anyone shot at him, he blasted the two soldiers inside and rendered ‘em smoldered corpses. I crawled close and kept as low as possible. From further back, another group of soldiers opened fire on Wick.
“Get over here, Ana!” he bellowed. I dashed over and joined him inside the bunker. I fell inside and closed the door. Wick fired at various points in the distance.
“You good?” he yelled between shots.
“Yeah, I think so.” I got to my knees and dusted myself off as best I could.
The air around us sizzled with heat from the pulse fire as branches and leaves showered the bunker. The flashes of light from the pulse fire lit things enough that I caught sight of Yag pinned down, clasping one leg with a bloodied hand.
“Yag's hit!” I screamed.
“Damn it! Where the hell's Remy?” Wick shouted.
We heard the Lebabolis soldiers’ shouts as they moved around to the front of the bunker. “If they get a pulse grenade in here, we're done for!” Wick said.
A shape appeared to my right. I jumped back, my fist cocked until I saw Remy's face. Blood trailed down his mouth.
“Help,” he said with a raspy voice.
I pulled him inside the bunker, and he crumpled to the floor. In the dim light I saw that he was bleeding from his chest, and the look on his face told me how bad it was. He clutched the Verge tethers in one blood soaked hand.
“What now?” I asked. Remy shuddered and wheezed, a blob of blood oozing over his lips. His coughs became convulsions when he sat up.
“Yag!” Wick yelled. “He’s not moving! How's Remy?”
Remy said nothing. He slumped onto his back, his eyes fell to me. He looked off in thought for a second, then back to me when he pushed the tethers into my hand.
“What, am I supposed to?” I asked, but he only motioned to his P-LAD. Wick continued his barrage of fire on the Lebabolis troops. He growled as shots hit the bunker and sent more debris raining inside.
Time was short. Escape was the only option.
But how? And to where?
I might have made it, if they were still occupied with Wick.
You're not going anywhere.
I flinched at the voice.
I glanced at Remy. His eyes watched me as he writhed on the floor. While I felt an odd pity at the sight of him like this, I recalled his words about me, "Why is she here?"
Was this Baudricort's plan all along?
Was I Remy's backup?
“Can't hold them much longer!” Wick screamed. A shot tore through his arm. “Shit!” The bunker lit up again with a flash and a wave of heat.
Move it, soldier!
I lunged out of the bunker as I heard Wick's moans. Shots came my way but zoomed past with a quick wave of heat in their wake. Only a few more feet left. I snapped a tether on my wrist, like Otto had shown Remy. It sent a tingling warm surge through my arm.
Out the corner of my eye, a Lebabolis soldier raced toward me, his gun sprayed the air all around me. Ten more feet.
One met me head on. My right foot planted into the ground, and I leapt into ‘em as they raised their rifle, which sent us both to the ground.
My feet dug in one more time, I jumped right into the Verge point, and my world was undone.
#
The back of my head felt like I had been struck with a steel pipe. A dull ache bored from the base of my neck all the way up and into my forehead as I found myself in a glow of light. Things floated past in an endless stream: images, people, places, events. A few things I recognized, a lot more I didn't.
A vibrating hum warbled my hearing to the point of deafness. A large group of people rushed past me. Soldiers. One waved a resistance flag. I couldn't make out any of their faces though. Another soldier walked right in front of me. Fierce eyes, she ordered the Action troops about. She looked at me, and I felt her gaze like it came out the back of my head. She yelled at me, “Move out!” but I soon realized it wasn’t directed at me. She wore battle armor, and the troops rallied around her. I saw explosions off to either side, and the mysterious woman charged toward ‘em, the troops behind her.
Next, a man rushed toward me. I shuddered when I recognized him from the Verge. I was never quite sure if what I saw on these time rips was fellow travelers or phantoms from my imagination, but according to Otto, no one could do anything to anyone seen in a time rip. The only thing that really existed here was your mind. Anything you felt as far as pain, or fear, was a projection of your mind.
The strange man fired a pulse weapon. One of his eyes looked like it was made out of metal. He was a Lebabolis Sentry.
The images jumbled as the Verge accelerated. The strange man melted away, and I sped through a tunnel of bright colors. I felt a burning sensation in my chest and on the wrist with the tether. I looked at it and forced my mind away from thoughts of the worst.
Otto said this was the furthest back they'd sent someone with a monitor bracelet. There were no guarantees from ‘em.
Or for me.
I shook those thoughts from my head and focused on Varrick.
The burning in my chest became like fire, and I screamed. My arms were thrust to my sides. It felt like my body was pulled apart, stretched from limb to limb and my skin being ripped off my face one strip at a time.
My vision blurred as I kept my thoughts on the goal that was now mine and not the fear that something had gone wrong. But the more time passed, and the more I felt like I had dissolved into nothing, the more the fear persisted.
Anxiety gripped my throat like a pair of hands, and my breaths almost stopped.
I won’t make it.
I can't keep this up.
My heart felt like it was ripped from my chest. Another loud thud and huge flash of light, and I felt weightless. My arms slid back by my side, and I drifted downward.
Then, everything went black.
Chapter 9 (Nelson)
I t started like an earthquake. The ground rocked so intense that no one could stay on their feet. Trees were uprooted, buildings fell. Then the earth opened up and shot geysers of lava hundreds of feet into the air. The wind howled like a thousand angry spirits, it ripped through and around people and objects, until everything whipped into a massive tornado. The lava was spread about, and everyone who wasn't incinerated scrambled for whatever foothold and shelter they could possibly find.
It felt a little strange when I wrote about Cataclysm in my book. All the stress over mom and what would happen with my job had to come out somewhere, and drinking hadn't really helped settle me that much. Tina was a help but that was only very recent. As horrific as it was, I felt good I could shove my anger and fear into one safe place like that.
#
I woke up Wednesday morning with a dull headache. Probably should've skipped that fourth glass of wine, but oh well. It wasn’t every day that I handled my mother's funeral arrangements.
My vacation from work had been good up until next week. My mind raced with thoughts of sadness and anger. I felt like doing everything and nothing at the same time. I even moved in slow motion, like I had a bad fever and the assorted aches and pains of a flu.
My brain needed a diversion before I went crazy.
I figured my best bet was the novel. After my initial burst about Cataclysm and general word vomit, I stopped and stared at my laptop for several minutes. I hoped that somehow I could just w
ill the words onto the page. Oh, if it were that simple.
The phone jolted me out of my semi daze. It was Bruel.
“Mr. Nelson Forrester?”
“Speaking.”
“Hi, sorry to bother you. I tried calling your father but there was no answer.”
“What's going on?”
“We neglected to go over the obituary for your mother.”
A stabbing headache sliced my head right between the eyes. Every time I thought things were done with Mom, I was pulled right back in for something else. “Oh, what do you need?”
“Several words about her, her life, surviving family. Things like that. You can email it to me.”
“Do they have a word limit?”
“No, but remember you're budgeted for $300 so keep it to 250 words or less.”
“Sure. I'll work on it.”
I opened up a new file on the laptop and typed away. Alright, Mom’s obituary counted as writing, I supposed. It ended up being easier than I thought. My only challenge was length. 250 words was insufficient to do her justice. But I guessed that's what a life came down to in the end, the allotted space for a newspaper and website.
After a few minutes, I had it done. It was simple. I stared at the screen, and her life contained in those few words. It mentioned her charity work and how she loved gardening. I felt like it did her proud.
I called Dad up on his cell phone. After several rings he answered, “Hello?”
“Hey, Dad, Mr. Bruel from the funeral home called. We didn't do an obituary for Mom.”
“Oh boy.”
“I typed one up. Want me to read it?”
“No, I trust you. I can't do it right now.”
“I know. I'll send it. Anything else you need?”
“No, think I'm gonna watch TV.”
“Alright. Talk soon.”
I stared at the screen a little more. As I glanced over the words, my mind flashed back to Bruel. He seemed a little shaky in the meeting. His job must’ve really sucked... a funeral director? Meetings with sad people about their dead loved ones all day? I bet he wanted the distraction of a phone call, even if it was about yet another deceased person.
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