Infiltrators (The Wall Series Book 2)

by Alison Ingleby

  “Statue!”

  The shout comes back from the front of the column. The point of the arrowhead has made it.

  “Surround it!” Samson bellows.

  We surge forward and I almost trip as my feet hit the lower steps leading up to the statue. The steps where Andrew Goldsmith met his death less than twenty-four hours ago.

  I shake my head. I can’t think about that now.

  You have a chance to right the wrong.

  From the top of the steps, I survey Rose Square. The south part of the square is swarming with Metz. In the north part lie the dead and wounded. Across from them, people are lined up in rows as if awaiting execution. The Metz have a plan, and it looks as if we don’t have much time.

  “We’ll hold them off as long as possible.” Samson draws a pair of long-nosed guns from his belt. “Be as quick as you can. We’re exposed.”

  A quick glance around confirms this. We’re in full sight of the Metz. And their guns.

  I activate the device and an image of the surrounding area appears in the air above it. It extends almost to the boundaries of the square. Dots flash everywhere, mostly green with a few red ones sprinkled among them.

  The captains. I’ll take them out first.

  But it’s easier said than done. The dots are so closely packed that I have to zoom into an area to separate them out and select individual ones. It’s painstaking. And I can’t tell if stopping the captains has any effect on the officers they control.

  I’m dimly aware of Samson on one side of me, firing across the heads of the Outsiders ringing the foot of the statue. On the other side, Jay and Jonas hold makeshift shields up to protect me.

  I change my tactics. Take out the immediate threats to us first, then get the rest. Zooming in on the area around the statue, I select ten of the closest flashing dots and activate the command box.

  “Stop fighting.”

  I move to another area, select another ten and repeat the command.

  There’s a shout of surprise from someone on the other side of the statue.

  Is it working?

  A bullet whizzes past my ear. I look up, trying to spot where the shots are coming from. More black figures seem to be converging on us. They must be able to see the holo. Do they know what I’m doing?

  I search for the red dots. They’re spread out, but I go through them one at a time, each time repeating the command to stop fighting.

  There’s a puff of dust as a bullet ricochets off the stone step beside me. I try to focus on the display but it’s hard. My heart hammers in my head, mingling with the sounds of screams, gunfire and clashes of metal.

  Samson ducks down beside me. “Can you get them to go away?” he gasps. “They may not be fighting but they’re stopping us getting to the others behind.”

  He stands and shouts something to the people on the other side of the statue. Looking up, I see he’s right. The Metz officers immediately surrounding the statue look as if they’re made of stone themselves. A couple of the Snakes attempt to push them back but it’s like trying to move buildings.

  A yell of pain makes me look up. Jonas is bent over, shielding his shoulder. His face is twisted in pain. Jay shouts at him and he turns toward me. For a second our eyes meet.

  “Jonas, y—”

  “Just stop them.” He manages to smile through his pain and there’s an odd look in his eyes that I don’t recognize. “Please.” He pushes his shoulders back and raises the thick, battered piece of metal he’s using as a shield. At least one bullet has passed straight through it.

  I swallow and turn my attention back to the display. I’m the only one who can stop them. I just need to work faster. I select the flashing dots immediately in front of us.

  “Line up in the south part of the square.”

  The black figures turn and begin to push back through their companions. Adrenaline courses through me as I pull together the next group of officers. “Stop f—”

  A heavy weight lands on top of me, knocking me over. The edge of a step digs painfully into my ribs. The box lands with an ominous crack on the step below. “Command not understood. Please repeat,” it intones.

  Stars jump in front of my eyes as I push myself up, twisting to throw the weight off my back. I stare in horror as Jonas’s body flops limply down in front of me. Blood spills from gunshot wounds to his shoulder, chest and leg. But the one that killed him is right in the centre of his forehead.

  The shield he’d been using to protect me – leaving him exposed – is still clutched in one hand.

  “Aleesha!”

  Jay’s shout jolts me out of my shock. He rests the bulletproof window shutter he’s using as a shield on the step beside me. It looks heavy. His body trembles with exhaustion and blood runs down his arm and over the gun in his hand. He jerks his head out over the crowd. “Stop them!”

  I nod dumbly and pick up the box with shaking hands. The display flickers and then goes steady. It’s too time-consuming to match individuals on the ground to the shapes on the display, so I just zoom in on the general area where the shots are coming from and select as many of the flashing dots as possible. “Stop fighting and line up in the south part of Rose Square.”

  Almost immediately, the dots begin to move off. I repeat the procedure.

  “Can you not just turn them off?” Jay yells.

  I shake my head but the nagging voice in my head chides me.

  If you deactivate them, they’d be disorientated and lost. Easy to take down.

  And my friends are dying.

  But I promised Giles.

  My fingers fly over the display, selecting officers and sending them over to the south part of the square. It’s almost like the VR games some of the Snakes play. At least it would be if the consequences weren’t so real.

  The sound of fighting eases and I take the opportunity to stand up and look around.

  Rows of officers are lined up in the south part of the square as if awaiting inspection. Some Outsiders are prodding them, but most people are still embroiled in fighting the officers I haven’t managed to stop yet.

  There are still so many of them.

  “Abby!”

  The cry rings out over the sounds of clashes and gunshots. I know that voice. Bryn! I whirl around, scanning the square for him.

  I see Trey first, stumbling across a pile of bloody bodies, and my breath catches in my throat. The Metz guarding the area have raised their weapons. He’ll be caught in a crossfire. My hand shakes as I find the officers on the display unit and tell them to turn around.

  Then I spot Abby, standing with her medic bag, her hands warding off the black figure looming over her, gun raised. Bryn’s trying to get to her, somehow barrelling through the officers like a one-person tornado.

  “Aleesha, the next lot are coming!” Samson shouts from the other side of the statue.

  I follow his gaze. The officers surrounding the lined-up Outsiders are filtering off and coming toward us.

  I glance back to Abby and hesitate.

  Which to do first?

  “Aleesha, now!”

  A barrage of shots rains overhead. Samson lets out a yell of pain. There’s a sharp prickling sensation on my shoulder.

  I select a load of the marching dots at random and tell them to turn around. That should slow the rest of them down.

  A shot rings out from the other side of the square and my heart stops.

  No!

  Abby is motionless on the floor. Bryn’s beside her, clinging to the officer’s arm as it tries to shake him off. Trey’s still moving but a couple of officers have spotted him and are raising their guns.

  I have to stop them.

  My fingers are already on it, picking the officers just as they begin to fire. “Stop fighting.” No time for anything else and I seem to have lost the ability to string words together anyway.

  Bryn is thrown to one side and Trey’s standing in front of the black figure. Just … standing.

  I zoom in
on them and stab my finger at the green flashing dot. But my hand’s shaking so much that I miss.

  Damn.

  The barrel of his gun is pointing at Trey’s head. Move, you idiot!

  I try again. This time my finger connects and the command box pops up.

  “Stop fighting!”

  A shot fires.

  I stare at the display, then up across the square. The officer is motionless, the hand holding the gun hanging by his side. In front of him kneels Trey, swaying slightly, his eyes wide in shock. Bryn writhes on the ground, clutching his shoulder.

  I reach a hand to my own shoulder, mirroring his action. It burns, a steady, throbbing pain that radiates out. Blood leaks from my torn top. The bullet must have skimmed the surface.

  Later. Think about it later.

  I push the pain away and focus on the display in front of me. I work more methodically now, trying to block out the noises around me and focus on selecting groups of officers and sending them down to the south part of the square. I lose track of time and what’s happening around me.

  Samson slumps down beside me. “Nearly there.” He pulls a dressing from his pocket and tears it open with his teeth. “Good work.” He presses the dressing over his arm and winces. “Damn Metz guns don’t work for us. Must be configured to the user, like your box.”

  “Guess so.” I find the last few fighting officers and order them to join their silent, still companions. I lean back and scrub the sweat from my forehead. My throat is so dry I can barely swallow and my eyes sting. I close them, but Abby’s motionless body appears in my mind, and I can’t deal with that right now.

  “We’ve still got to get the ones outside the square.”

  Samson nods. “But this has to be most of them, around this area at least.”

  Jay stumbles over to us. His clothes are dark with blood and he’s swaying unsteadily on his feet. “Is it over?”

  “Not yet,” Samson replies. “But soon. Here, eat this.” He pulls a small bar from his pocket and hands it over.

  Jay looks at it uncertainly, then rips it open and takes a bite. Samson pulls some more dressings from another pocket and holds them out. I take them from him and start to patch Jay up.

  “What’s that pod doin’?”

  “Pod?” Samson turns sharply to follow Jay’s gaze. “Damn.”

  “What is it?” I press the final dressing into place and turn to look.

  A pod is flying in, so low it’s almost skimming the rooftops. It’s black with the distinctive yellow stripes of a Metz vehicle but much smaller than the usual troop carriers. And all in a rush, the adrenaline leaves my body and my legs collapse under me.

  The Commander.

  What saliva is left in my mouth takes on a bitter taste that coats the back of my throat. This is it then.

  Samson looks to Jay. “Any bullets left? I’m out.”

  Jay pulls a gun from his belt and promptly drops it. It clatters down the steps. Samson reaches forward to retrieve it. I pull Jay down to sit on the step beside me. “Just eat the bar.” He nods obediently. I wonder how much blood he’s lost.

  Defending you.

  The pod swoops lower, coming in over the square. For a moment, I wonder if it’s going to land but it’s coming in too fast for that. Samson opens fire, but the bullets bounce off the pod as if they’re nothing but pebbles. Something drops from its belly.

  Then the world explodes.

  There’s a dull ringing in my ears and it feels as if time slows. My throat constricts as I wheeze, trying to draw in air. It’s thick with dust, coating my mouth and throat and choking my lungs. I’m suffocating. My muscles spasm as I panic, my whole body fighting for oxygen. Spots dance in front of my eyes and a growing blackness threatens to overwhelm me.

  I try to take a breath. A normal breath. And air finally makes it down to my lungs. The humming in my ears fades and running footsteps approach.

  A hand pats me on the back. “Relax.”

  I manage to breathe in a bit more air. The choking dust and smoke have gone and the coughs wracking my body subside. Tentatively, I take a deeper breath.

  “Drink.” A water bottle is shoved into my hand and I gulp at it greedily.

  Wiping my eyes, I look around. Katya is standing in front of me. Dirt is smeared across her face and a rough bandage is wrapped around her left arm, but somehow she still manages to look beautiful.

  Murdoch is behind her. And behind him, looking down at his feet, is Trey.

  I look away. “What happened?”

  “They dropped explosives,” Murdoch said. “We’ve been running around the streets for the past half hour trying to take the pod down, but the damn thing stays just out of range.”

  There’s a small crater in the ground not five metres away. The top half of a man hangs out of it. The bottom half is missing. My stomach does a huge flip-flop and I tear my eyes away. But that wasn’t the only bomb. The second hit the group of Metz officers neatly stood in rows, knocking them to the ground like toy soldiers.

  “They hit their own people?” Samson frowns. His dark skin is grey with dust.

  Katya shrugs. “Better lose them than hand over control to us.” Her voice is hard. She glances at the box around my neck. “That’s not Jameson’s device. Where did you get it?”

  I open my mouth to reply but Trey interrupts me. “It’s coming back!”

  Katya pulls something from her belt and glances at Murdoch, who nods. “If it comes that low again … Clear this space,” she orders.

  I stare at the object in her hand. It’s coil of silver cable with a looped padded handle at one end and what looks like a metal claw at the other. “What are y—”

  “Don’t argue, just get down!” Murdoch shouts.

  I stumble backward down the steps. The pod has circled around and is coming back down from the north. Katya hands one end of the cable to Murdoch and crouches on top of the steps, her eyes never leaving the pod.

  It drops low, clearly planning to make another run. Katya murmurs something under her breath to Murdoch, who nods.

  The pod swoops toward us. Katya stretches her arm back and launches the metal hook into the air. The cable reels out behind it. The belly of the pod opens just as the hook curls around one of its landing rails.

  “Now!” Katya yells.

  Murdoch darts to the statue, the silver cable trailing from his hand.

  The world explodes. But this time we’re expecting it. My hands clamp down on my ears and I hold my breath, waiting for the dust to settle.

  The cable begins to tighten. Murdoch’s wrapped it twice around the base of the statue and is pulling back on the handle.

  “It’s slipping,” he gasps, his feet skidding forward.

  “Let me.” Samson appears behind him and grasps the handle. He braces his feet against the base of the statue and heaves back.

  From somewhere in the cloud of dust comes a sickening crash.

  The cable goes slack.

  For a moment, we all just stand there. Slowly, I make my way down the steps, my sleeve pressed to my mouth. I cross the square, past the first crater and the body of the man who lost his legs. Past more still forms of men, women and Metz officers.

  I follow the silver cable into the dust until the outline of the pod appears. It lies on the ground, half crumpled like a broken egg. I stop in front of it, wondering if whoever is inside can look out.

  Katya comes to stand beside me. Samson moves to my other side.

  I wonder how we can open it. If there’s any way of getting in.

  I’m not left wondering for long.

  There’s a hiss from the pod and the door begins to open.

  30

  Trey

  The pod is half crushed into the ground. If anyone inside has survived, it would be a miracle. I peer over Aleesha’s shoulder as the door slides open. I’m not sure what I’m expecting to see. A Metz officer?

  The huge man with the long dreadlocks raises his gun and points it at the op
ening. The door sticks for a moment, and through the gap I see a thin man collapsed over a dashboard. He’s dressed in one of those skin-tight suits and is clearly dead.

  The opening widens, revealing a second man who’s hunched in a half-crushed seat. Katya inhales sharply as the man turns his face slowly to us.

  He’s in a bad way. Blood pours down one side of his face, and the right side of his body appears to be trapped in the twisted metal of the pod. But I recognize his scarred face and those dark, malevolent eyes.

  Recognition flickers in his eyes and his face twists into a snarl of rage. “You …”

  “Yes, me.” Katya’s voice is hard and cold.

  The Commander tries to speak again but all that emerges from his mouth is a dribble of bloody saliva. His chest heaves with a shuddering breath and his head rolls back against the side of the pod.

  “Wait!” Katya holds out an arm to stop Murdoch moving forward. She holds out her hand to the man with the dreadlocks. “Can I have that?”

  “No way.” He scowls at her. “But I’ll check for you.”

  He steps forward and gingerly pokes the man in the chest, then the cheek, with his gun. He presses his fingers against the Commander’s neck. “He’s gone.”

  My breath comes out in a rush. I close my eyes and feel my body sway.

  It’s over.

  We stand there in silence for a minute. Me, Aleesha, Katya, Murdoch, Jay and the black man. A gust of wind blows away the final traces of smoke and dust, and around us, people begin to stir. A ragged cheer breaks out from somewhere behind us, but the voices are quickly hushed.

  It doesn’t feel like a victory. Just an end.

  A muffled crash comes from one of the streets leading off the square. “I should go and fetch the rest of them in,” Aleesha says to no one in particular. Her voice is tired. She looks a wreck.

  I look over at the Metz officers standing in file. There must be a hundred of them. Maybe more. Most Outsiders stay away, but some are prodding and poking them. Waiting to see if they’ll fight back.