Storm Forged

by Patrick Dugan

  The arc of electricity set the night on fire. The full blast struck the side of the Humvee, knocking it over. Flames burst from the exposed undercarriage of the wrecked vehicle.

  The transport had survived the wreck in one piece. Gladiator and Abby rushed in to take down the troops before they could bring the disruption launchers to bear. Gladiator threw open the tarp covering the opening, sword out ready for a fight.

  “There’s no one here,” Abby said, her voice low and guttural. “Something is wrong.”

  Wendi streaked off, a cheetah to my lumbering bear. “The Humvees are empty,” her voice came over the coms. “It’s a trap!”

  A loud bang sounded as the side of the semi fell open. Grim Reaper, Tenji, and two others stood in the opening. One was small, head to toe in black. His hair shimmered with hair gel that plastered it to his forehead. The other, an obese guy who looked more like a short-order cook than a member of the Syndicate. He wore a navy blue jumpsuit and sneakers.

  “Time to party boys and girls,” The Grim Reaper yelled from the trailer, hoisting a nasty machete. “A little payback is in order.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Marcel’s shrill voice sounded in my ears. “I’ll have Alyx open a portal. Abort the mission.”

  It was too late. Gladiator launched himself at Grim Reaper as Abby went after Tenji. After being captured by the Syndicate, we had a score to settle.

  The small guy leapt from the back of the trailer. Sporting two foot long daggers he came straight at me. I fanned my fingers dispersing a wide arc of electricity. He slid, arching his back like a rubber limbo dancer, under the arc. He flipped up in the air and came down on me with both knives aimed for my head. I put my arms up to deflect the knives, knowing it wouldn’t be enough.

  I felt a whoosh of air and my assailant bounced off the pavement, one of the knives flying free of his grip. Wendi stood a few feet away. “That’s one you owe me.” She ran off again.

  I pulled back my arm and let go a globe of energy. Dressed-in-black stood as the ball impacted his side. It blew him a good fifteen feet away. He lay on the ground smoldering, his gelled hair standing on end. He looked down for the count.

  My friends were still fighting so I went to help. Gladiator kept on the defensive as Grim Reaper hacked and slashed at him. Knowing his scythe would absorb you was plenty of reason to be careful. A swift kick to the leg dropped Gladiator. Grim Reaper laughed as he stood over him. I gathered the energy to shoot, but Jon beat me to it. Three arrows stuck in rapid succession pinning him to the side of the trailer. Gladiator regained his footing, and the fight resumed.

  Abby didn’t fare any better. Tenji was small, but lightning fast. He shot a blast of fire at her as he dodged her attacks with ease. Wendi sped by, taking shots at Tenji, but they had little effect. I saw her blur racing toward the fight again, but Tenji did as well. He grabbed Abby’s arm, pivoted, throwing Abby into Wendi’s path. They collided at full speed. Wendi looked like a pinball hit by a flipper. She flew back, skidding across the pavement and under the wrecked tractor-trailer.

  “Wendi!” I yelled and ran toward her. If anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself.

  “You aren’t going anywhere,” A voice said from behind me. I felt sick, a cloying smell invading my helmet. “Viper’s best weapon is not his fangs, but his poison.”

  I clawed at my helmet, I needed air. I choked. Hot vomit splashed on my faceplate as the poison did its work. My vision fogged. I pulled weakly at my helmet but to no avail. I was done.

  A fist punched me in the center of my chest. Knocking me back. Fresh air flooded in. I opened the faceplate. I greedily gulped down a lungful of clean, crisp air. I saw the short-order cook guy, Viper as he called himself, as his scream cut off abruptly. The green cloud pressed in around Viper’s head. He fought to break free, but Waxenby stood nearby holding a force bubble around his head, forcing Viper to breathe his own poison. Turnabout is fair play.

  “Go check on Wendi,” Waxenby said. I swear he was smiling. “I’ll take care of snake boy.”

  I ducked under the trailer and found Wendi in the dirt off the side of the road. I helped her up. “You okay?”

  “Just a few bumps and bruises.” She winced as she straightened up. “I guess we need to practice more.”

  A shout went up from the fight. “Enough! Oblivion will put an end to this.”

  Oblivion? Who the hell was that?

  “Oh my God! Run!” Waxenby came over the coms. “I’ll try to hold him off.”

  “What is going on?” I yelled.

  “Run, Tommy!” Gladiator roared, panic thick in his voice.

  “Get to the rendezvous,” I said to Wendi. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “I won’t leave you.”

  “Go, Alyx can get you out if things go bad. Marcel needs to be up on what happened.”

  “I love you,” she said and disappeared.

  “I love you too,” I whispered to the empty space around me.

  I ran as fast as I could. An enormous blast struck out in all directions. I was thrown from my feet, landing in the dirt on the side of the road. The tractor-trailer flipped over. The troop transport burst into flames. I rolled into a depression as the blast flashed over me.

  I laid there, catching my breath. “Tommy,” Grim Reaper’s voice came over the comm. “I’ve got Ollie. You know what I want. Don’t make me wait or Ollie will pay the price.”

  “You bastard,” I screamed, rage flooding through me. “I’ll get you if it’s that last thing I do.”

  “You come up against me, hombre, and you end up muerto. Pepper no save you again.”

  An engine roared to life. They were getting away. I saw Waxenby thrown in the back of what looked like an armored half-track. I threw both hands straight out. Energy surged through my arms hitting the truck, pushing it across the road, but the motor was still intact. They revved the engine and took off.

  Could today get any worse?

  Floodlights illuminated the wreckage from our failed rescue attempt. “In the name of the Reclaimers, put your hands up and surrender peacefully or you will be detained by force.”

  Why yes, things could get worse.

  36

  I did what any teenage boy would do when confronted by an authority figure. I ran. I could see the remains of the abandoned gas station from the flames and the searchlights of the three helicopters hovering above the ground. I probably had enough juice left to take one down, but not three, assuming I could short out the engines. It hadn’t worked on the truck, which worried me.

  I dove under the trailer, slipping out of view of the helicopter behind me. The others were nowhere to be seen. I hoped they had made it behind the station. Nobody could have survived the blast.

  “Tommy, hurry,” Wendi’s voice said in my ear. “The portal is open, but they are getting close.”

  “I’m almost there.” I turned the corner of the gas station. I saw Wendi illuminated by the blue and red lights of the portal.

  “Is Abby with you?” Gladiator said. “I lost her in the blast.”

  “No, I’ll go look.” I turned to search for her.

  No rang in my ear. Wendi propelled me through the portal and I lost my last chance to find Abby.

  “We have to go back,” I shouted as I pulled my helmet off. “Waxenby’s been captured, and now Abby is missing. We can’t leave her out there.”

  The war room exploded into chaos as the portal winked out of existence. Gladiator bled from a number of machete cuts, and Alyx rolled over to check on him. Wendi fell to the floor in exhaustion, small wrinkles around her eyes from her aging during the fight. I could feel the energy swirling in me ready for one last blow. Marcel held his head in his hands at the front of the room where he’d laid out Jon’s plan for the rescue a lifetime ago.

  He whispered through the afro covering his face. “I’m sorry, Tommy, I’m sorry, it’s too late.”

  “What do you mean, it’s too late?” I asked, my t
one much harsher than it should have been.

  “I patched into the Reclaimers’ helicopter radio.” He blew his nose and wiped his eyes before he continued. “They found Abby unconscious and detained her. She’s headed to a holding facility for questioning. I’m sorry.”

  I threw my helmet against the wall. This was supposed to be simple. Run in, knock out some guards, and escape with Dad. Jose screwed us again. “I’m going to kill Grim Reaper when I get my hands on him.”

  He pushed the hurt and embarrassment down before delving into the situation. Marcel was in professional mode and looked shamefaced. “It’s my fault.” He stammered a bit in the process. “He leaked the info to the Reclaimers, but I didn’t find the information until just now.”

  “Great job,” Jon said. “The brainiac screwed this one up for good.”

  “Shut up, Jon.” I needed Jon’s attitude like Viper needed another donut.

  Jon rounded on me, his face red with rage. “Why don’t you make me, Ward?”

  I gathered the last of my energy to blow his damn head off, but Wendi was faster. She stood between us before I got to my feet. “Enough! We are all tired and worried about Abby.”

  “Ward, the only thing you’re good at is losing. Abby would be here if you could fight worth a damn,” Jon said, turning his back.

  Before I could stop my big mouth from running on its own power, I blurted out, “Big man hiding behind the gas station shooting arrows. I’m sure you were the first one through the portal.”

  The whole room went silent. Jon twisted around slowly. His eyes bored into me, the rage replaced with an icy stillness that scared me more than I wanted to admit. “What did you say?”

  I tried to apologize, but he launched himself at me before any words came out. He landed a right cross on my jaw. My head twisted to the side as stars flashed in front of my eyes. Say what you want, but he could throw a punch.

  “Jon, stop,” Wendi screamed, but he pushed past her, jamming a knee into my groin and an uppercut that put me on my back.

  “ENOUGH!” Gladiator roared. “Oliver and Abby are in the hands of our enemies, and you two bicker like children.”

  Wendi shot Jon an angry glare before helping me to my feet. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs.

  “Dude, I am sorry. I didn’t mean it.” I held my hand out to Jon as a peace offer. “I’m just upset things went so bad tonight.”

  Jon slapped my hand away. “Listen, Ward.” His face hovered inches from mine. “The only reason I’m here is to keep Wendi safe. I’m not your friend. We aren’t buddies. Don’t forget it.”

  He stomped out of the room, pausing to kick a chair out of the way in the process.

  “I’m sorry, Tommy,” Wendi started.

  I held up my hand. “It’s fine, Wendi. I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want to come between you two.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled at me. “I knew I picked you for a reason.” She gave me a quick kiss and sat in a nearby chair.

  Marcel sat, a wireless keyboard in his lap, running through some program. The code streamed by on one of the monitors of the war room. “Here we go, Las Vegas local station has breaking news.”

  A perky Asian anchor read the report, a mug shot of Abby in the upper right corner of the screen. “We have confirmation an escaped Dissident has been captured in Arizona just outside of Mesquite, Nevada. The details have not been released, but we are going to our own Diane Patterson, who is outside the Megadrome with her report. Diane.” She sounded serious, but her smile never wavered.

  “Thanks, Dion.” Diane’s long brown hair was perfectly styled, and her sweater set matched her eyes. The Megadrome and a group of Reclaimer guards loomed behind her. “We have confirmation the armored personnel transport has arrived carrying the Dissident the Reclaimers allege destroyed a set of school buses returning from a field trip in Provo, Utah.”

  The scene changed to the site of the attack on the kids, viewed from a helicopter circling the destruction. Two yellow school buses were off the side of the road, one burnt to the point of being unrecognizable. Emergency workers were moving among the fallen, offering aid to the wounded as Reclaimer soldiers stood guard as if another attack was forthcoming. A row of small body bags and a couple larger ones had been arranged in a line.

  “As you can see the devastation, reports have the death toll at over twenty students and staff. The News Three copter is on site to bring you pictures from this terrible Dissident attack on a pair of school buses,” Dion said in tandem with the footage. “As Diane reported earlier, one of the Dissidents has been captured and is being held. The search is on for the others who attacked defenseless students. We will be following this story and breaking into programming as new information becomes available.”

  “Are they faking the footage, Marcel?” I couldn’t believe the Reclaimers would go as far as killing innocents to get to us.

  “I wish they were.” Marcel looked a bit green, his voice shaking as he spoke. “They killed over thirty kids for no reason.”

  “There is a reason,” Gladiator said. “Any time the Gifted commit vile acts, it makes the people afraid. Scared people do not complain or rise up against their oppressors. The Protectorate needs the Gifted to maintain power. That is why Cyclone Ranger must fight and die, as a reminder of how dangerous the Gifted can be and how benevolent the Protectorate is.”

  “But what happens when all the Gifted are gone?” Wendi said. “What will they do then?”

  Gladiator shook his head slowly. “As you can see from the television, they don’t need Gifted to have people afraid. They just make up their own.”

  Gladiator left the room. The silence lingered—even Wheel of Fortune was muted on the screen. The happy faces and celebrations at guessing a phrase mocked the tragedy being laid at our feet. The soft clicking of the keys emanated from where Marcel sat with his laptop as he wreaked havoc on the Reclaimers’ systems between sneezes and coughs, trying to find out what was happening to Abby.

  I’d screwed everything up. From trusting the Reaper to the idiotic plan to rescue a man who’d surrendered and refused to fight until forced. Maybe I should be happy we’d escaped, get Mom, and move on with our lives. We could get Mom and disappear, blend in with the Norms in another part of the world, join the Resistance, or live in the remains of the fallen cities. Alyx had been all over the world, he could open a portal, and we could be somewhere else and start over. I could take Wendi to the movies, hang out with friends, have a normal life. Was that too much to ask for?

  “Tommy, the news is on,” Wendi said, gently shaking my shoulder to wake me up. I had fallen asleep on the couch.

  Marcel yawned. “They waited for the early morning news to make their announcement. Must have missed the prime-time slot of the news cycle.”

  Wendi turned up the volume on the TV. “I’m certain we annoyed them with our bad timing.”

  A gray-haired, hooked-nose man in uniform stepped in behind a podium emblazoned with the Protectorate insignia. The caption at the bottom read General Mahady, Reclaimer Dissident Special Ops. “I have a short statement and then will introduce a survivor of the massacre and Captain Jenkins, who led the rescue. Please be seated.”

  The rustling noise of the journalists could be heard from off-camera. The general adjusted his notes and looked up. “On Wednesday night while returning from a trip to Provo, the students of Eldorado High School were attacked without warning. There are thirty-two dead, fourteen more critically injured and may not survive. One of the perpetrators was captured by Captain Jenkins’s team. We are aware of at least two more Dissidents were involved, one pyro and one exothermal, who killed the fleeing students and faculty.”

  We all sat up. “They think Abby is part of the Syndicate,” I said. “They don’t know who was there.” Luckily, Waxenby had been taken by Reaper, so they didn’t have him. Though I’m not sure if you could call that lucky.

  “Shhh.” Wendi nudged me in the ribs.

  “T
here may be others. This is the most brazen Dissident attack we’ve seen in years. The perpetrator we did capture has been uncooperative in revealing the cell’s location or providing any motive behind this unprovoked attack. The Protector will be announcing further measures to ensure the safety of the people. We will not rest until these criminals have been brought to justice. Miss Stacy Whiden will now recount the event of that night. Please no questions. She has suffered enough without being badgered.”

  A small dark-haired girl was wheeled out and parked next to the podium. Four slashes crossed the left side of her face, destroying what must have been a beautiful girl. It made me sick to think the Protectorate had ruined this girl’s life on purpose, though most of her classmates paid a much higher cost. She looked up at the general, who nodded at her. The camera zoomed in to get a better view of the cuts on her face.

  “I was riding on the bus back from Provo, when the bus ahead of us swerved and stopped in front of us. Our bus struck the side, but most of us were okay.” She paused, calming down in the process. A tear ran down her face. “We started getting out of the bus, just like the drills we always do, when the first bus exploded. People panicked. I started to run, but this thing with claws attacked me.” She quietly wept. After a moment, she continued. “She would have killed me if Mr. Bradley hadn’t tackled her, but she had already done this to me.” The cry of anguish erupting from her broke my heart. The nurse ran out and rolled her off stage.

  “Now, Captain Jenkins.” The general moved to stand at the side as the captain took the podium. “We had a call from a concerned citizen who saw people milling around an abandoned gas station on Route 15. Local law enforcement was sent to investigate, but when they failed to report in, we were dispatched as backup. We had four helicopters with special op soldiers. When we arrived on the scene, a large explosion occurred. It threw both buses like they were toys, killing a large number of civilians in the process. We observed multiple suspects fleeing the scene. Teams were deployed to neutralize the Dissidents: one was taken down, the rest escaped.” He paused, looking grim. “Local first responders were called in while our field medic treated the most serious injuries.”