Ultraxenopia (Project W. A. R. Book 1)

by M. A. Phipps

  Ezra’s voice booms through the tunnel, shadowing over all of us and grabbing our attention.

  “On your feet. We’re moving out.”

  Jenner stands before turning and offering me his hand. I take it, dodging his eyes as he helps me to my feet. I bend down to retrieve my pack, but he’s there before I can even move. He straightens up, grinning as he hands it to me.

  “Thanks,” I mumble.

  We both turn at the same time in response to the sound of footsteps heading toward us. My heart reacts erratically when I see Ezra. He seems somewhat annoyed, although I’m not sure why.

  “Head up the group with Rai.” His words are directed at Jenner, who oddly enough, seems to be the source of his annoyance.

  “Sure thing,” Jenner says, clearly oblivious. He smiles at me once again before walking away.

  I shift my weight from foot to foot as we stand in silence. It’s awkward, but I don’t know what to say. Avoiding eye contact with him, I focus instead on adjusting my pack.

  “Here, let me help you,” he says when he sees my hands fumbling with the straps.

  I allow him to take it from me and try my best to remain calm while he fastens it around my back. The proximity between us is minimal to the point where I can feel the heat from his body against mine.

  Once again, all I can think about is that dream. I remember the way he looked at me. I remember the way he spoke to me.

  I remember the way he kissed me.

  “There,” he murmurs.

  The sound startles me out of my thoughts.

  “Now you can access it more easily, and it won’t come loose if we need to make a quick escape.”

  Our faces are mere inches apart when he says this, and his fingers make the final adjustments on the straps. I can’t help but look up at him, my eyes drawn to his lips. The memory of their touch overwhelms me until it feels as if I can barely breathe.

  I glance away before he has the chance to notice, thankful that the darkness of the tunnel will hide the redness in my cheeks. Ezra pulls away from me and turns to fall into line behind the others. A huge gust of air expels from my lungs, leaving me flustered, and above all, confused.

  I stare after him, only following once I’ve taken a few breaths to compose myself.

  Our trek continues in the same silence as before but with an added level of tension. It’s as if there’s something hanging in the air between us—unexpressed words that he refuses to say. I consider asking but quickly think better of it.

  My thoughts become clouded as I fall into a daze, lulled by the repetitive sound of our footsteps. I only snap out of it when Ezra grips my arm.

  “Wait,” he breathes suddenly.

  We both stop walking, and my eyes dart between him and the retreating figures disappearing down the tunnel. My heart pounds like a hammer against my ribcage.

  When the others are out of earshot, he finally breaks the almost intolerable silence.

  “I get it, you know. After everything you’ve been through . . . after the way I treated you . . . why the hell should you trust me?” He looks down at me as he lets out a tired sigh. “I don’t know what I can do to make you believe me when I say that we’re on your side. I’m on your side.”

  My lips part and slowly, I begin to shake my head.

  “Trust has nothing to do with it,” I whisper.

  “Then what?” he asks.

  The way he speaks has an almost desperate tone to it, making me realize that what I suspected must actually be true. He’s trying to make up for the way he acted toward me before.

  “I just don’t understand why. Or I guess it would be more accurate to say what.”

  He cocks one of his eyebrows. “What . . . ?”

  “What made you change your mind?” I clarify.

  At first, he doesn’t answer me. It’s as if he’s choosing his words wisely. Either that or he genuinely doesn’t have a solid response to my question.

  “Would it be ironic of me to say that it’s complicated?” he asks.

  He grins apologetically, and I find myself biting back a laugh when I hear those words—especially coming from him. Not that long ago, he responded with anger when I offered him that same explanation. Now, here we are, the roles reversed.

  The tension between us seems to instantly dissipate. Yet, I can still sense something waiting to be said. I look up at him expectantly, coaxing him to continue.

  He rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “You know how I was telling you about my mother?” he whispers.

  I nod, feeling suddenly apprehensive.

  “A lot of my anger about the situation stems from the fact that there was a time when I thought she was crazy, too. She would say the same thing to me, over and over. Always the same thing. ‘One green, one blue. Winter. Look for winter.’” He clears his throat and shakes his head as if trying to rid himself of a bad memory.

  I watch him carefully, eagerly anticipating his next words.

  “I had no idea what she was talking about. I thought maybe it was a warning, but when nothing happened, I stopped taking notice of it. By that point, she was locked away, and after a while, I just forgot about it.” He closes his eyes for a brief moment and lets out a heavy sigh before continuing.

  “But then you came along,” he whispers. “At first, I didn’t trust you for obvious reasons. But then you told us your name . . . and I noticed your eyes. One green,” he murmurs, pointing at my left eye. “One blue,” he continues, pointing at the other. “That’s when I realized what she had actually been saying.”

  My heart begins to race. Faster.

  Faster.

  “Wynter, she had said. Look for Wynter.”

  “She saw me?” I gasp. The air catches in my lungs, trapped by an inexplicable feeling of shock.

  “I reacted badly toward you when, in reality, I was angry with myself,” he confesses. “My mother was never crazy. I knew that, and I deeply regret ever allowing myself to think it. Meeting you made that very guilt resurface because I had the proof of her sanity right in front of me. Trouble was . . . I still had no idea whether what she said was intended as a warning.”

  My stomach seems to cave in on itself as I begin to wonder where this conversation is heading. “And now you think it wasn’t?” I breathe.

  He lowers his eyes, for some reason refusing to look at me. When he finally glances up again, I’m bewildered by the presence of a smile on his lips.

  “I don’t think she ever meant it that way. I’m not entirely sure why, but I think—” He breaks off, reconsidering his words. “No, I know . . .”

  He lifts his hand. My eyes widen when he brushes his fingers across my cheek. The nerve endings in my body come alive, causing me to feel more emotions than I can even make sense of. A shudder runs up my spine, and the thrill of his touch is just like the memory of my dream.

  I don’t understand what he’s telling me.

  I don’t understand . . .

  I stare at him. Confused, anxious, and above all, afraid. His eyes bore into mine as he brings his face unbearably close, his next words nothing more than a mere whisper in my ear.

  “She wanted me to protect you.”

  “ARE YOU SURE THIS IS it?” Ezra asks.

  “It’s as close as we’re going to get,” Rai answers.

  We all look up at the hatch door. It hangs above us like an ominous weight that could come crashing down at any moment. I can sense the danger on the other side. It’s beckoning to us, a dark temptress luring us in with a single intention. The pull of it is powerful, and yet, it’s overshadowed by my frantic nerves begging me to turn and run.

  This is it, I realize. This is the end of the line.

  Ezra lifts his hand, signaling to Jenner and the other three men.

  “Give me a hand,” he says, coaxing them forward.

  Once again, I stand back with Rai, watching as they work together to hoist Ezra up to the door. I can see his jaw tensing as he grips the rim of the wheel
. The others brace themselves beneath him, supporting his body.

  A low grunt escapes his lips, and I notice a faint sheen of sweat beading across his forehead. Inch by inch, the wheel begins to move, and a shudder runs along my skin when the door bangs open. The sound of clashing metal pierces through the silence, the noise alarmingly loud in the night. I jump back, startled and suddenly afraid.

  What if someone heard?

  What if we don’t even make it beyond this tunnel?

  A feeling of anxiety creeps over me as Ezra hauls himself up through the open hole. I wait with bated breath for him to reappear, worried that Enforcers might already be here and are now waiting to capture the rest of us as well. Thankfully, within seconds, I see the glow from our flashlights reflect off his face. He holds out his arm, reaching down to help the next person up.

  Jenner goes first, followed by two of the other men, and then Rai. When it’s my turn, I grip Ezra’s hand firmly, and our eyes meet for the brief moment it takes for him to pull me through the door. Duke follows last. Once we’re all out, Ezra closes the hatch, lowering it back into place as quietly as possible.

  A bitter breeze nips at the back of my neck. Now that we’re outside, I’m aware of the drastic difference in temperature compared to the tunnels. A shiver courses through my body as I glance around what appears to be an empty courtyard. It’s pitch black—not a light in sight.

  “Where are we?” I whisper to Rai.

  “We’re in Zone 1,” she murmurs back. “Outside the city magistrate’s building. This is where Wren Bilken’s main office is located.”

  My eyes scan the length of the courtyard. I can just barely make out the shape of the structure before us, although I can sense its enormity in the way it seems to black out the sky. Still, I wonder if my vision will ever adjust to this impregnable darkness, and I can’t ignore the feeling that something doesn’t seem right. It’s as if the shadows are somehow tangible. As if someone’s hiding within them, waiting for our next move.

  I get the sudden feeling that we’re being watched. “Is this really where he wants us to meet him?” I ask.

  Rai grins at me. “I know. Pretty conspicuous, huh? But I guess it’s also the last place the State would expect us to go.”

  “If it isn’t a trap,” I mutter under my breath.

  Now that I think about it, she might have a point. The State wouldn’t expect us to come here, right? But then again, they might if we had reason to.

  A reason like the promise of a potential ally.

  I groan, my thoughts going in circles as I try to figure out the likelihood that this will turn out exactly the way we hope. Maybe I’m just a pessimist. Or maybe PHOENIX has been exiled for so long that they’ve forgotten what the State is capable of.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Ezra walking toward us. I can only just make out his face in the blackness, and his gaze burns with a sense of urgency as he looks at Rai.

  “In the transmission, Bilken mentioned a door on the northwest side that’ll open at exactly 12:47.”

  Rai looks down at the small device in her hand. It glows for a short moment before she shuts it back off.

  “Well, we better get a move on then,” she says. “We only have eight minutes.”

  Our footsteps reflect off the stone-layered ground, and the sound seems deafening in the surrounding stillness. I stay close to the others, following Ezra and Rai, who seem to have a solid idea where we’re going.

  The building is massive, and I find myself doubting whether we’ll be able to locate the door in the little time we have left. We must pass at least a dozen entrances, but we don’t stop at a single one. Rai occasionally checks the device in her hand, immediately turning it off when she’s finished. I assume she’s monitoring the direction we’re heading in. Northwest, Bilken had said.

  We make it with less than a minute to spare. However, the seconds spent waiting for it to open are agonizing. We all stare at the small, somewhat camouflaged door in silence, none of us daring to speak even a single word.

  I can see the uncertainty on everyone’s faces as plainly as I can feel it. It’s enough to make me wonder . . . if there was time to go back, would they?

  At exactly 12:47, the lock to the door clicks open. The sound echoes with a slight ringing, causing all of the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. I watch Ezra and Rai as they exchange nervous looks, and I realize they’re preparing themselves for what could possibly lie ahead of us.

  My heart clenches at the thought. Not because I’m afraid for myself. I’m afraid for them.

  I feel overwhelmed by the harsh reality that there will be nothing I can do to save them if we run into trouble. My fingers tremble against the gun protruding from my belt. Even though it’s there—even though I have this defense—it only makes me feel worse.

  Jenner, seeming to sense my unease, rests a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I look up at him and he smiles back at me.

  “Don’t worry,” he breathes. “It’ll all be fine.”

  For this brief moment, I allow myself to believe him.

  Ezra nods his head as he unholsters his weapon. With a cautious push, he opens the door, glancing around the corner before nodding once again to signal it’s safe to file inside. We all follow him, guns at the ready.

  I do what the others do. When they press up against a wall to remain out of sight, I do the same.

  My chest expands and contracts as my breaths grow increasingly unstable. I look at everyone else in turn, waiting for our next move until I notice Rai crouched in a corner by the door. Her face is lit up by the glowing screen of a portable computer. Her fingers almost seem to dance across the keyboard, and her expression is drawn and focused.

  Trying my best to keep my movements to a minimum, I slink along the wall until I’m standing beside her. Dropping to the floor, I pause for a few seconds before leaning forward to catch a glimpse of what she’s doing.

  I’m looking at what I think is a map of the building. Red dots blink from multiple locations across the screen, separated by a number of thin green lines. The lights begin to vanish almost as soon as I lay eyes on them.

  “Cameras are out,” Rai announces to the group.

  The others all relax in response to her words, no longer bothering to stay close to the walls. My eyes widen in amazement as she stores the computer back inside her pack.

  It occurs to me that Rai must be a hacker. I remember hearing about them in news alerts, but I never really understood what they were capable of until now. It explains why she’s the one always leading when it comes to relying on any form of technology. That must also be how PHOENIX remains undetected. Wherever they go or wherever they’re heading, they simply hack into the system and shut down the State’s cameras.

  It’s so simple, yet brilliant. However, it still doesn’t answer a particular question I’ve wondered about for some time now.

  “How have you managed to stay under the radar for so long?” I ask her. “Can’t the State still track you?”

  She meets my gaze, and I jerk my head toward her untouched wrist, then to my own where the bandages hide the jagged incision beneath them. Regardless of whether or not they can manipulate the State’s systems, our oppressors can always rely on the tracking chips implanted within us at birth when all else fails.

  “When PHOENIX first started, they used to cut them out,” she explains. “But a lot of people died from either blood loss or infection. Weapons are one thing, but it isn’t nearly so easy to get our hands on medicine.”

  When I was in school, I remember being told that the previous regime allowed free use of drugs—medicinal and otherwise. It led to a massive downward spiral of productivity and caused a large portion of the population to become dependent and lazy. When the State came to power, they chose to keep our health under lock and key. Even something as simple as a headache can only be treated by going to a health center. No exceptions.

  With PHOENIX, it never occurred to me to w
onder how they get their supplies. They don’t seem to lack when it comes to food or weapons, and my imagination isn’t vivid enough to attempt a guess at how they manage it. I suppose I always figured they rely on benefactors or violence.

  Rai’s voice drones on in my ears, snapping me out of my thoughts. I blink a few times, glancing back up at her.

  “When I first joined up, we were always on the move,” she continues. “We couldn’t stay in one place too long out of fear that the Enforcers might come down on top of us. But the whole time, we kept working toward a way of disabling the chips until we successfully invented a scanner which can fry the tracking mechanism within them.” She lifts her wrist and waves it around for me to see. “It’s just a useless piece of metal now,” she says through a smile.

  I never would’ve thought such a thing was even possible and I find myself feeling a newfound awe toward her. It’s almost terrifying to think what she could have accomplished for the State if she hadn’t chosen to abandon it all those years ago.

  Before I can ask her any more questions, she slings her pack over her shoulder and rises to her feet. I stand alongside her, following her gaze to see Ezra gesturing for us all to gather.

  We huddle in a tight group, awaiting our orders. He points, one at a time, to the three men who came with us.

  “You three take the first floor,” he says. “Rai and Jenner will go up with me to the second. Make sure your communicators are active and call if you find anything.”

  I stand off to the side, watching as the group separates. Duke leads the other two away from us at once, guns drawn and ready to be used if necessary. Rai and Jenner congregate by the door, mumbling to each other about the nearest staircase. After deliberating for a moment, they proceed down the hall.

  I’m about to follow them when I feel a hand grab my arm and give it a gentle pull back. I glance up to see Ezra staring down at me.

  “Stay close to me,” he whispers. “And stay behind me. Remember, no matter what, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  My stomach twists when I hear those words. I try to speak, but my voice fails me.