Retribution (The Praegressus Project Book 5)

by Aaron Hodges

  Crouching, Chris lowered Liz gently to the ground. He watched as her head rolled loosely to the side. Not long after their escape, he’d felt her go limp in his arms, overwhelmed by the pain of her injuries. Now, he shuddered as he looked at her wing, remembering his own agony when his had been broken. It would take at least a week for them to heal.

  Another shiver went through Chris as he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest. Straightening, he moved away. Coming to a stop on the edge of the escarpment, he looked out over the plains. To his left he could see the bleak buildings of Albuquerque rising from the desert, bleached grey by the unending sun. His eyes were drawn westward, to where the scarlet mountains rose from the plains. He stared at them for a long while, seeking movement, searching out signs of pursuit.

  But there was nothing, and giving up, he returned to Liz’s side. Lying down beside her, he lifted his wings to shield them both from the sun. The stifling heat still radiated up from the ground, but exposed as they were, it was the best he could do. Looking across at her, Chris swallowed, his mind drifting to what Liz would say when she woke.

  After their last encounter, he wasn’t sure she’d be pleased to see him.

  He was glad he’d stayed close though, shadowing the Chead from a distance. He still didn’t know what had happened to Liz, how Talisa had corrupted her so easily. When Liz had chased him from the abandoned settlement, she’d been hardly recognisable, as though she’d lost a part of herself. For an instant, Chris had thought her eyes had flickered grey.

  But Talisa was dead now. They had Susan to thank for that, although from what he’d glimpsed, the girl may yet prove more dangerous than the elder Chead. As Chris had raced into the cavern he’d caught a glimpse of her eyes. They had shifted to a murky white, a colour he had only seen in two other Chead—Talisa and Artemis, the first of the Chead.

  What that meant, Chris wasn’t quite sure. But Susan had reacted far faster than he’d expected. Despite taking her by surprise, Chris had been caught by the speed with which she’d spun towards him. She had almost managed to deflect his blow. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if she’d caught him.

  A soft moan whispered from nearby. Looking across, Chris watched as Liz’s pale blue eyes blinked and opened.

  “Hey there,” he said, sitting up. “Don’t move. Your wing is broken.”

  Liz lay still for a long moment, her eyes unblinking, fixed on Chris’s face. Chris stared back at her, breath held, heart hammering in his chest.

  “Chris…” Liz croaked finally, her voice filled with warmth. A tear streaked her cheek as she blinked. “You came back.”

  Chris swallowed as he opened his mouth, then closed it again, the words dying in his throat. He wanted to tell her he had never left, that he couldn’t bring himself to abandon her, couldn’t stomach the thought of living the rest of his life alone without her. He wanted to say he’d been a coward, that he didn’t deserve to sit there with her after everything he’d done.

  But he was done with the self-loathing, with clinging to his mistakes, with condemning himself to misery.

  Instead, a gentle smile touched his lips. Reaching out, he brushed the tear from her cheek. “I’ll always come back for you, Liz.”

  Liz scrunched her eyes closed as a sob tore from her lips. “What have I done, Chris?” she whispered.

  Chris shifted closer and opened his arms to embrace. She flinched at his touch, but when she nuzzled her face into his shoulder, he realised it was only the pain of her injuries. Taking her gently in his arms, he rocked her against his chest. Hot tears seeped through his shirt, but he said nothing, only held her, only waited. He knew Liz would speak when she was ready.

  Finally, Liz pulled back and wiped the tears from her face. “I’m sorry, Chris,” she said, looking across at him. “I’m sorry for chasing you away.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Liz,” Chris replied. “It wasn’t you. I don’t know what your mother did…”

  “That thing wasn’t my mother,” Liz’s voice cracked. She turned her head away. “I don’t know what that was, but she wasn’t my mother, not anymore.”

  Chris nodded. Reaching down, he squeezed her hand. Only then did he realise Liz’s left arm hung limp at her side. Dark bruises radiated up from her wrist.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, nodding at her arm.

  “I’m okay,” Liz replied.

  Her face tightened as she placed her good arm beneath her and pushed herself up into a sitting position. The colour fled her face as her wings shifted behind her, and a moan grew in her throat. She managed to complete the manoeuvre without complaint, though she kept her injured arm clutched protectively against her stomach.

  “I think its broken,” she said quietly, staring down at her darkening wrist.

  Chris nodded. “What happened down there, Liz?” he asked.

  In the darkness of the cave, he had only caught a glimpse of its occupants. Earlier, he’d watched from a distance as Talisa led Liz into the cave. When Hecate entered sometime later, followed separately by Susan, he’d guessed something important was happening. Only when he’d gotten close did he hear Liz’s screams. The desperation in her voice had sent him barrelling into the cave without a second thought—though even then, he’d almost been too late.

  Liz swallowed, her eyes flickering to the ground. “She wanted Hecate to take me as his mate,” she whispered. “I…I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted…no, I needed him,” her fists tightened into balls, “only my touch saved me.”

  Chris’s fingers tightened in the dirt beneath his palms. A rumble came from his chest and his stomach clenched at the thought of Hecate with Liz, at the image of them naked, bodies pressed against one another, limbs entwined…

  Gritting his teeth, Chris forced the thoughts from his mind. This was no time for jealousy—Liz had been attacked, almost taken by the darkness of the Chead. He remembered Hecate’s laughter as he’d slaughtered the innocent people from the van. Hecate was a vile, soulless creature that deserved only death. At least he’d suffered for trying to force his will on Liz.

  Silently, Chris reached out and gripped Liz by the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered.

  A smile flickered on Liz’s lips. “I’m glad he’s not.” Reaching out, she took Chris’s hand in hers and pressed it to her lips.

  Chris shivered at the gesture. Looking up, he found Liz’s big blue eyes watching him. He stared back at her, a lump swelling in his chest, savouring the touch of her hands around his, her presence so close to him. There, high on the escarpment, in the quiet New Mexican wilderness, they were utterly alone. In that moment, it felt as though their past did not exist, as though everything that had come before was just a figment of their imaginations.

  Slowly Liz leaned towards him, her eyes unblinking. Chris found himself responding. A jolt of electricity rippled through him as their lips met. The kiss was soft, cautious and tender, neither of them quite sure of themselves, of what they were doing.

  Closing his eyes, Chris shivered, fighting back tears. Even as he tasted Liz’s tongue on his own, he could hardly believe he was kissing her, that they had found their way back to one another. Her scent drifted in his nostrils, a rich, almond aroma he would never forget.

  She shivered as he reached out and took her in his arms, but Chris was careful not to touch her injured arm or wings. Lips still locked, they fell gently to the ground, wrapped in each other’s embrace. Chris swallowed as Liz’s good hand drifted through his hair. Reaching up, he trailed his fingers across her neck, and felt her trembling against him.

  For a long time they lay like that, eyes closed, touching and tasting, breathing in the scent of one another. It was as though they had not seen each other for years, as though they were long-lost lovers, finally reunited. They made no effort to remove their clothes—high up on the escarpment, there was no urgency, no need to rush. They could lay like that forever, free from the outside world.

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nbsp; Eventually, the tug of sleep wrapped around Chris. Breathing out, he drifted into a dream. With the warmth of Liz’s body beside him, the nightmares of the last few days fled the darkness of his mind, leaving him at peace. Eyes closed, he slept.

  It was dark when he woke again, though it seemed only minutes had past. Beside him, Liz was sitting up, her face aglow in the light of the moon. She glanced back as he lifted himself from the ground, a flicker of a smile tugging at her lips.

  “Hey there,” she said.

  “Hey there,” Chris replied, wrapping an arm around her waist.

  Some of the colour had returned to her face now, though her arm and wings were still a mess. He would need to carry her closer to the city soon if they were to find food and water. His heart quickened as he remembered the Chead were still out there. The creatures could be creeping up the cliffs towards them at this very instant.

  “They’re not here,” Liz said softly, as though she’d read his mind. “You looked so peaceful, I thought I’d let you sleep. But I’ve been keeping a lookout.”

  Chris leaned his head against her shoulder. “You should have woken me,” he murmured, “but thank you.”

  Liz nodded. Her eyes turned to stare out across the dark plains. In the distance, Chris could just make out the glow of lights from Albuquerque.

  “There’s something I’ve been wondering,” Liz said suddenly. “Something about what Susan said to me at the end.”

  “What do you mean?” Chris asked, frowning.

  “She said she was going to burn humanity from the earth.”

  Chris snorted. “Hecate said the same thing, back at your farmhouse, remember?” He shook his head. “The Chead are dangerous, but even now, they don’t have the numbers to overthrow humanity.”

  “Maybe not,” Liz pursed her lips. “But I don’t think that’s what Susan meant. She said killing the President was Talisa’s plan—so what is she hoping to achieve out here.”

  Chris frowned, distracted by the way the moonlight played over Liz’s body. Her jacket had been torn in the…conflict with Hecate, and he could just make out the curves of her breasts beneath. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on what she’d said.

  “What else could they want, all the way out here?” he asked.

  “What if she knows about the President’s threat? What if she wants to use his nuclear arsenal to wipe humanity from the earth?” Liz replied.

  Ice tingled down Chris’s spine at Liz’s words. Their eyes met in the darkness. Said out loud, the idea didn’t seem so outrageous. No, it seemed certain. After all, as Chris had just said, the Chead did not have the numbers to match humanity.

  Unless something were to level the playing field.

  The two of them came to their feet as one, their eyes turning to face the distant lights. The glow of the Airforce Base remained unchanged, but as they looked, lights began to flash between the buildings.

  Through the darkness came the far-off wail of an alarm.

  Chapter 27

  “You think he’s even here?” Ashley whispered.

  Sam looked up as Ashley’s voice echoed off the narrow walls. Squinting, he could just make out her shadow in the darkness. He sucked in a breath, trying to focus his thoughts in the stifling heat.

  “We’ll soon find out, Ash,” he offered finally.

  Sitting back, he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the suffocating darkness. Every inhalation brought with it the stench of gasoline—an unwelcome reminder of the hour they’d spent latched onto the bottom of the truck. Ashley’s idea of improvising had quickly turned into the most uncomfortable ride of Sam’s life.

  Pelted by rocks flung up by the tyres, Sam’s wings and back had become one giant bruise. Dust had clogged in his lungs, making it difficult to breathe, and by the time the truck finally pulled to a stop, it was all Sam could do to keep himself from groaning out loud.

  Instead, he’d held his breath, listening to the whispers of men over the rumble of the engine. Boots had crunched on gravel as a pair of guards circled the truck. Hingers screeched, followed by laughter as the men inside the truck conversed with the guards. The stench of cigarettes drifted through the crisp night air.

  Then a buzzer had sounded, and the clang of metal announced the opening of the gates. Above, the rumble of the engine picked up pace as the driver put the truck in gear. They were moving again.

  Ten minutes later, the two of them had found themselves alone in the darkness of what Sam assumed was a vehicle hangar. They’d listened to the soft patter of retreating footsteps, the distant clang of a door opening and closing, then silence.

  After a second’s hesitation, they’d both dropped to the concrete. Sam groaned as he struck, the sound loud in the darkness, but in that moment he hadn’t cared. Holding up his hands, he clenched his fists, pins and needles shooting down his arms. Stifling another groan, he’d rolled out from beneath the truck and slowly climbed to his feet.

  He’d half-expected to find himself surrounded by soldiers with rifles, but instead there was only Ashley, still looking all-too-fresh for someone who’d just spent the better part of an hour being dragged along by a truck. Two-hundred-foot-tall iron walls stretched up around them, curving at their apex to meet in a giant ceiling above their heads. The first light of dawn was just beginning to shine through the skylights, revealing all manner of vehicles.

  Their convoy had parked in a line along the side of the hangar, probably to be unloaded in the morning, but the other the vehicles in the hangar were not so mundane. From fighter jets to tanks, the President’s base looked far too well-armed for Sam’s liking.

  With daylight rapidly approaching, there’d been no time to linger on what the madman’s stockpile meant for the rest of humanity. Ashley and Sam had shared a glance, then headed for the nearest hiding place.

  An M3A3 Bradley tank—according to the label on the exterior.

  But after spending eight hours cooped up inside the thing, Sam was sure they’d picked some outdated model, long since retired from service. Even in the shade of the hangar, the air inside the tank had quickly risen to boiling point. Within a few hours they’d stripped down to their underwear, and for once Sam was too uncomfortable to be distracted by the lithe outline of Ashley’s body.

  Now though, silence had finally returned to the hangar outside their iron tomb.

  Sam shared a glance with Ashley. “Think it’s time?”

  Ashley pursed her lips, her shoulders rising and falling as she took a breath. “Let’s go.”

  She went first, pulling on her clothes and clambering up the ladder to crack open the lid. Sam followed her up, his body aching from the long hours spent cramped in the tiny compartment. Fresh air wafted over him as he emerged from their cocoon. Closing his eyes, he took a moment to savour the sudden cool, before Ashley’s whispered call drew him back.

  Jumping down beside her, he raised an eyebrow. “Where’s the exit?” It was almost pitched-black inside the hangar now, although his enhanced vision could still pick out the dull shadows of the other vehicles.

  He started looking around, searching for a door, but Ashley was already moving, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him along with her. Together they threaded their way across the concrete floor, taking care not to disturb anything that might make a noise. Sam kept his ears peeled, listening for the slightest hint of movement, but all was silent.

  The exit Ashley had spotted turned out to be a regular door fashioned into the wall. Beside it, a staircase ran up the side of the building, leading to a catwalk that weaved its way between the larger planes. Ignoring the stairs, Sam moved forward and pressed his ear to the door.

  For a moment all he could hear was the thudding of his own heart. Taking a breath, he tried again. Seconds ticked by and he could feel himself growing more anxious. His fingers curled around the door handle, preparing to hurl it open.

  Then he heard it—the soft crunch of footsteps.

  Taking a step back from the doo
r, he looked at Ashley and mouthed ‘guard’. Her lips tightened and spreading her wings, she readied herself. Moving back into position, Sam gripped the door handle, and with a last glance at Ashley, yanked it open.

  Outside, there was a low gasp as the guard staggered back from the door. He had half a second to fumble for his rifle, before Ashley struck him like a sledgehammer. A blow to the head was all it took. The sound of his body hitting the ground was loud in the night’s quiet.

  Darting out after Ashley, Sam grabbed the unconscious man and dragged him inside the hangar. Then he stepped back into the moonlight and closed the door behind them. Outside, the building they’d been locked inside didn’t seem half as large. The smooth outer wall stretched up behind them, concealing the rest of the building—along with half the airbase.

  Ashley was already scanning their surroundings, searching for the glass tower they’d decided was the most likely location of the President’s headquarters. Joining her, Sam reached out and took her hand. Her skin was like ice, but she flashed him a smile when he squeezed her fingers.

  “No one in sight,” she whispered. “Most of the guards should be stationed on the fences.”

  “Let’s hope,” Sam replied.

  He searched the buildings around them, but there was no sign of the tower. He cursed under his breath as he realised it had to be on the other side of the hangar. They shared a glance, their gaze travelling skywards.

  “Do we risk it?” Sam asked, staring at the distant watch towers.

  Ashley was looking in the same direction. After a moment, she nodded. “They’re focused on things happening outside—I think we’ll be safe.”

  At that, her wings snapped open. Sam cursed under his breath as she leapt into the air, already second guessing himself. Ashley’s white feathers all but glowed in the moonlight; there would be no missing her if those in the watchtowers happened to glance in their direction. But there was no turning back now. Spreading his wings, Sam sprang after her.