Another goon swung a knife at her, but never came close, while a third fired on full auto. He missed by a mile. The masked figure ran past the giant Venus fly trap things, and then danced back toward the guards. The monster plants chased her until they were near the guards. Jaws snapped at arms and legs. Men screamed and fired at the pair of killer plants, but the things only snapped their jaws faster. The guards yelled and fell back, away from me, toward the skimmer.
Time to go, ankle or no ankle.
I began running, stumbling, but my ankle didn’t turn. Maybe the medpack had finally done its job.
My mouth tasted sour, like the air, and I kept having to blink sweat out of my eyes as I ran.
Pain jabbed my ankle. I stumbled and began to fall, but a strong hand grabbed my arm and braced me. The costumed stranger was beside me. She pulled my arm over her gray-clad shoulder, and helped me along.
I couldn’t tell if I hallucinated her or if she were real.
Either way, the gunfire and demonic hissing faded off in the growing distance.
After what felt like a hundred miles, I stopped, bent over, gasping for breath.
“Just a minute, please,” I gasped. Blinked.
The rain forest was suddenly quiet. The now distant gunfire had stopped.
I fumbled at the little canteen on my belt, somehow getting it to my lips. I drank the canteen dry. I wiped my mouth, and looked around.
A breeze rustled the rain forest. I was alone.
Chapter 4
I caught up with Simon and Keisha near the air strip, walking slowly. Lingering, maybe hoping I’d show up.
“Right behind you,” I called out when I was about a hundred yards back.
They turned and looked back at me. Keisha’s jaw dropped.
My ankle felt fine. I walked like I owned the rain forest, smug grin on my face.
When I got within reach Keisha grabbed me, hard enough to make me wince. “You could have called on your wrist comm.”
“Hell, no.”
“It’s not like they don’t know we’re here.”
“I didn’t nearly get killed just to get captured.”
She let go and crossed her arms, scowling.
“We heard gunfire and explosions,” Simon said. “Figured you were done for.”
“Plants are my people.” I tried to sound easy going, funny. “The goons couldn’t find me behind walls of vines, palms, and other green stuff.”
Simon cocked his head. “It sounded like a full on battle.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “They were just pissed they couldn’t find me.” I reached toward his backpack. “Let me take that.”
“I don’t know why,” Keisha groused. “We’re almost back at the plane.”
I pulled on the pack and adjusted the straps. “That’s the best time to take it.”
The plane was right where we’d left it, parked on that dirt airstrip in a clearing. The sun was almost down when we reached it. We waited until twilight and then Simon started up the plane and we took off, headed for Panama where we’d get refueled, and then Mexico.
Keisha slept in the back while I sat in the copilot’s seat and tried not to think about the horror show we’d found. No such luck.
We spent the next day at an airstrip in northern Mexico, and then took off at night, flying low over the border with New Mexico, because we didn’t want to be busted at an airport by the feds. A day later we were finally back in the Pacific Northwest, flying low. Going down we’d flown to Panama from Portland through L.A., with a contact that got us through the international gate, and onto a private plane.
But going back, not so lucky.
I kept waiting for a Hero Council intercept jet to find us. Or to have us spotted by surveillance, but we managed to make it to central Washington state without being discovered, stopping at another dirt air strip in Utah to refuel.
“Never use the same route twice,” Ashula had told me before we left.
Too bad the flight home sucked.
Keisha and I would have argued more, only we were both still thinking about what had happened to Coldie. I couldn’t get any of Colombia out of my head.
Especially the people in that village.
Central Washington was wheat fields, then the scablands. Ruth had taken me and the twins there when I was eleven. At the time, I thought it was epic. The dry, hot desert, the smell of sage and pine. Big, sweeping rock palisades that went on forever. The way the Columbia River sparkled in the sun below the palisades.
Not so much today. The air was thick with smoke from forest fires to the west. Thank god we didn’t have to go closer. I didn’t want to feel a thousand trees burning to death at the same time.
The smoke made my throat ache. Keisha couldn’t stop coughing.
Somehow Simon didn’t cough. Probably a good thing since he was flying the plane. He kept his eyes on the instrumentation. We flew over a big flat-topped hill, like an ancient fort looming over the canyon. Then we dropped down over a lake, past a low hill to a dirt road.
Keisha leaned forward behind Simon to tap him on the shoulder. “You gonna land there? That doesn’t look like runway.
“It will be for us,” Simon said, not a trace of a smile on his face.
The dirt road looked pretty bumpy as we came in. My stomach lurched.
Guess Keisha’s did, too, because she looked sick.
Simon pulled back on the stick, and we landed with a bump, and then another. The plane slowed. We jerked two more times, and then Simon taxied us up to a rusting shack. An old beater of a car, an AMC Lion, was parked beside it.
We stopped.
“According to the info, that shack is just big enough to fit this plane.”
He was right—the shack was actually an old barn. We pulled the plane inside, and closed the door.
We were supposed to wait until dark before driving off. We had insta-meals for lunch—spam, mashed potatoes, and corn. Yuck
Keisha decided to sleep in the plane. Simon wanted to catch some z's, too. I was too restless. I walked a half mile or so down to the river.
The sun sparkled on the water just like it had ten years ago, when Ruth took me and the twins camping somewhere on the Columbia near here. Back then I was just a girl angry that her parents had died and trying to take care of her bratty sisters.
Now I got to lead a double life. My family thought I was a criminal. The Scourge thought I was one of them. And a secretive government agency wanted me to go deeper into the Scourge.
I didn’t have a life. I had “assignments”, “missions,” and “jobs”
The whole thing sucked.
I stood there on the rocky river bank and threw stones into the river until my arm felt like it was going to fall off.
It didn’t help. I was still pissed. It did wear me out a little.
I sat down and stared at the water while the sun dropped below the palisades across the Columbia. The haze from the fires had thickened, and the air smelled like burnt wood. I thanked God again that I wasn’t closer to the blaze.
The shadows lengthened, matching my mood. I picked up another stone, the last one within reach, started to throw it, then lowered my arm. Dirt filled the cracks in the stone. I closed my eyes, feeling the dirt with my fingertips. Even in this desert, there was the potential for life.
“Truly you hold a world in your hand,” an accented voice said behind me. I whirled around. Deep night had suddenly fallen over the canyon. The river was barely visible in the sudden darkness.
“Ashula?”
Part of the darkness became the outline of a slender woman a head shorter than me. “Indeed, it is I.” Her Indian accent made her words sound polished. I wished I could talk so fine. Her power was to bring the night, whenever and wherever she wanted.
“I thought we were supposed to meet you.” I couldn’t remember how they were supposed to contact us.
She laughed softly. “You were supposed to meet me.”
The air suddenly
felt cold. “What about Keisha and Simon?”
“Both still slumber, with pharmacological assistance. Little was required. They were very fatigued.” Her voice became serious. “We must maintain the cell structure if the Scourge is to survive and triumph. That means only you may meet with me.”
Winterfield and Support wanted me to get to know everyone in the “Inner Circle” that ran the Scourge. Figure out what they were up to. Set them up to be destroyed. But I couldn’t exactly ask to meet the others without a good reason.
What we discovered in that nightmare of a rain forest in Colombia could become the reason.
I clenched my fists.
“I trust you won’t punch me,” Ashula said.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. She could see in this? Maybe she could hear better in her night, like really hear a pin drop and know what it meant. Some powers were like that, not what you thought at first they would be.
“Sorry. I’m just…” I trailed off. Pissed, but I wasn’t about to say that.
A slender hand brushed mine. “I am sorry, Mat, that things proved so difficult in Colombia. If we had known it was that dangerous we would have planned your operation differently.”
Tell that to Coldie, or the South American Cell. “Yeah, hindsight’s twenty-twenty.”
She squeezed my hand. “You did well to survive.”
“We brought back two backpacks full of those power pod batteries you wanted.” I didn’t keep the anger out of my voice. “I hope it was worth it.”
“Thank you. I have already taken possession of the backpacks.”
Of course she had. Why not? Easy enough to do with Simon and Keisha both snoozing.
Ashula continued. “It was worth it. These ‘pods’ as you call them are more than just a way of storing power.”
“I hope so.” I unclenched my hands. Coldie was annoying as hell, but she didn’t deserve to die, especially not during a snatch-and-grab, and not the way she did, either. “Red Witch told me who was running the operation in that rain forest.”
The blackness lightened enough that I could make out her face. It was a fine featured, classy face. Her braided hair was tied with some kind of jewelry. Not like my former boy cut. I’d been letting my hair grow out, but it still didn’t reach my shoulders.
“Yes?” she asked, leaning forward.
“Red Witch said it was a company called Emerald Biologic, part of Ellis Corporation.”
Her eyes widened. “One of Brandon Ellis’s companies.” She nodded to herself. “So, that was one of his biotech operations.”
“Who is Brandon Ellis?”
“One of the richest men in the world. A genius whose businesses focus on new energy sources and biotechnologies.”
“You mean he’s the bastard who created horrorville down there?” Fuck. “Some kind of killer trees that can walk. And then there was a village.” I stood straighter. Not saying anything about it sure as hell wouldn’t lead to action. Talking might. So, I told her about the men, women, and children who had been changed into something alien.
She listened without asking any questions. Just let me speak. My words were heated, at first, but when I got to the Venus fly trap monsters and the remains of Coldie’s body, the fire went out of my voice.
I paused, remembering the hallucination of the masked woman in gray. I kept that part to myself. She must have been an hallucination. The plant things had messed with my head somehow.
“So, I met up with Keisha and Simon and we got out,” I finished. “Minus Coldie.”
The night grew black again until I could see nothing.
“There was nothing you could do,” she said. “These things happen.”
She said it matter-of-fact. Just one of those things. I shouldn’t have been surprised. The Scourge must be playing for big stakes, but at this point, I could care less about whatever they were shooting for. “Is the Scourge going to take these bastards down?” Winterfield was scowling fiercely in my imagination, but the hell with him. I ran my hand down my jeans, trying to unclench my muscles.
“I do not know if what we learn will lead to that outcome. It will depend on a number of things.” Of course, she didn’t say what those things might be. “We have many irons in the fire. It’s a matter of prioritizing.”
Prioritizing. I bit back angry words. Fine. That was fine. I’d delivered the goods, so that was more proof I could deliver. This whole ‘infiltrate the Scourge and worm my way to the top’ sucked, and was taking forever. When I reported to Support about Colombia, they’d have to take action. That village was a crime against humanity.
Good thing as far as anyone knew no Empowered possessed telepathy, or I would be so busted.
“You are understandably angry, Mat,” Ashula said, her voice soothing. “You are also exhausted. You haven’t really slept since before arriving in Colombia, have you?”
“No.”
“Then get some rest and then head back to Portland.” She clasped my shoulder. “I will be in touch.” The night was still as black as a coal mine, but I felt her come close to me, so that her upturned face was right next to my ear. She whispered her next words. “The Inner Circle will consider what you have found.”
I forced myself to sound grateful. “Thank you.”
When Ashula next spoke, she sounded further away. “You have some time to yourself when you get back home. Do something pleasant to relax and rejuvenate.”
Hah, that was a laugh. I knew what I’d be doing once I got back to Portland. The fun task of reporting to Support and the hardass of all hardasses, Winterfield. But of course Ashula would have no way of knowing that. If she did, I’d be a dead woman.
That thought was enough to kill any buzz I had over the possibility I’d be invited to meet the rest of the super secret Inner Circle.
Such was my life.
Chapter 5
Of course it was raining when we drove into Portland late the next day, driving down I-84 along the Columbia River. It was one of those very Portland drizzles. Typical September once the summer ended.
The leaves had turned brown. Everything was going dormant. At least that meant the plant life was subdued.
We dropped Simon off at Union Station in Old Town.
After Simon left, before I pulled back into the street, Keisha said, “I’m going to take my time getting back to our place. Need some time to think. I’ll catch a bus or something.”
“Sure,” I said. If she wanted to brood longer, who was I to argue? Besides, I’d be meeting with my bosses at Support soon. I stopped at a gas station back across the Willamette river from downtown, to refill the tank and make a call on the payphone there.
I had my mobile, but Winterfield only wanted to be called from a pay phone. Stupid spook stuff.
The phone rang three times. “Winterfield here.” Same gruff, annoying Winterfield as always.
“I’m back,” I said. Keep it short and simple, those were the rules.
“About time.”
He sure had his shorts in a knot. “It wasn’t as advertised.”
“You alone?” he asked
“Yeah, I’m alone. For the moment.” This dumb back and forth was the one of the worst things about having to be a spy for Support.
“Okay. Head home. We’ll send a message about a get-together shortly.”
Most boring conversation ever.
I got in the AMC Lion and slammed the car door. The interior was all peeling vinyl and stained seats. It smelled like an old sweat sock. Driving for ten hours straight had only added to the stink.
I needed a shower in the worst way.
It was twilight when I parked at the curb in front of the duplex. The big maple tree in the front yard was quiet. Red and orange leaves covered one corner of the roof. My place was the left-hand unit; my Dodge Dasher was parked in the driveway in front of it. The right-hand unit was dark. No one lived there. I don’t know why Support had chosen a duplex, but that had been their choice after my first place got c
ompromised.
I got out of the Lion, and took my backpack from the trunk. As soon as I’d slammed the trunk the right-side unit’s door opened. A guy in a hoodie and torn jeans meandered outside. His shoulders were slumped, and he slouched as he walked.
“Hey there,” he said, his voice slurred. He sounded as high as kite.
I tensed. Looked like a squatter stoner had moved in next door while Keisha and I were gone. That hadn’t taken long. I was in no mood to deal with slacker stoners. I clenched my fists. A mouth full of knuckles would make my point. I raised my arm as he lazily walked up to me.
His hoodie fell back. Handsome Latino features, dark hair normally fashionably styled but right now an every-which-way mess.
Alexander Sanchez.
Alex. Winterfield’s junior partner and my street contact from Support.
He smiled at me.
I didn’t say anything until we were practically touching noses.
“What are you doing here, Alex?” I said in a low voice.
“Hey Mat, nice to see you. How’s it going?” He still sounded like the stoner.
I ignored him and unlocked the door of my unit. He followed me inside, slouching all the way. He’d really gotten good at the act.
I closed the door behind him, and locked it. “One more time—why are you here?”
He straightened, tilted his head. Beneath the stubble, his cheeks dimpled and he smiled. “To keep closer contact.”
I shook my head. “Don’t you think my roommate will get suspicious?”
“It’s all fine,” he said, in a dismissive way that got my blood boiling.
“Is it? Really? Looks like a great way for my cover to get blown.”
He went into the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and handed it to me. “Hydrate. It will make you feel better.” I wanted to hurl the glass against the wall, but I drank it dry.
“Now,” he said, once I’d put down the empty glass, “take a deep breath.”
I rolled my eyes, but did as he asked.
He pulled out a chair for me. “Have a seat.”
Empowered: Traitor (The Empowered Series Book 2) Page 5