Ravage

by Jeff Sampson

  I took the opportunity to yank the rifle completely out of my guard’s hands, wield it like a club, and slam the butt against his helmet-covered head. He too fell to the floor, unconscious.

  “I told you I came in peace,” I said. “But if you want to do this the hard way, let’s go!”

  Sixteen guns aimed at me, making a light show of red dots on my chest. A chorus of deafening pops echoed through the halls of the laboratory.

  Ducking, I flung myself to the side, just as Spencer and Tracie did the same. The darts impaled and exploded against the wall behind where I’d just stood, some splattering into the windows and door and cracking the glass. Our parents, trapped on the other side, shouted out in horror.

  And the fight was on.

  Spencer bunched his legs and sprung up, like an enraged ape going in for attack. He slammed against the chest of the nearest guard, wrapping his legs and arms around the man’s arms and neck. Using his momentum, he twisted the guard to the side and brought him down hard against the tiled floor.

  Two other guards ran to capture him, but Spencer placed his hands on the ground on either side of the fallen guard’s head, then kicked up and out with his legs. His sneakered feet hit one of the guards full bore in the gut.

  Reeling backward, the guard slammed into the guard behind him. Both flew into the full-length window on the wall opposite the computer bay. The window shattered, raining down glass shards. The two guards, covered in scratches, collapsed into a pile atop an unfortunate potted plant.

  Tracie, meanwhile, ran forward, used the closest guard like a springboard, and leaped high into the air. She grabbed the nearest hovering robot orb in both of her hands, then shoved it under her arm like a basketball right before she landed.

  This got the other robots’ attention. Their aiming lights focused on her. As if able to sense the lights, Tracie darted past and around as many guards as possible, weaving and ducking to avoid wild swings of guns or grasping arms.

  The hovering robots fired indiscriminately, each one hitting a guard Tracie had just passed. She was forcing them to risk friendly fire to catch her. But there would be no catching her—the girl was a blur.

  My turn.

  I swirled the gun above my head, then swung it down toward any of the guards that tried to aim their rifles at me. I brought the butt down behind one man’s knee, forcing him to the floor, then swung it up to connect with his lower jaw. He went slack, a marionette with his strings cut.

  Another swing, another man down. And another. I was a hurricane of force, ripping a path through the men and women hired to shoot me and lock me up. Inside, I cringed with each slam of the gun against someone’s body, knowing they were just doing their job, hating the pain I was causing them.

  But at least I knew they were alive.

  In less than a minute, I had no one else to hit. All the human guards either lay unconscious, held their hands up in surrender as they crouched down, or had run off.

  All that remained were Tracie’s robots.

  Seeing she had no more targets, Tracie skidded to a stop in the hallway, spun, and lobbed the robot she’d captured at the nearest orb. They collided like two mini Death Stars and exploded into shrapnel.

  Spencer picked up a fallen rifle and held it like a tennis racket. He easily whacked the two orbs nearest him out of the air. They slammed against the wall, leaving scorch marks as they fell to the floor.

  I was farther away from the two remaining orbs than either Spencer or Tracie, but that wasn’t going to stop me. I flung my stolen rifle through the air and it collided with one, bringing it down to crash on the hard floor.

  The final orb darted its laser-sighting light onto me. Before I could duck or leap out of the way, a gunshot sounded, so close and so loud that my ears rang. The last robot went dark and dropped like a stone.

  I looked down to find that one of the guards who’d sat there, surrendering, had pulled a handgun and shot the robot down. Seeing me focusing on him, he dropped the weapon and raised both his hands.

  “I don’t know what you are,” he stammered. “But I know I don’t want to be the guy who let you get shot. This is just a day job, I don’t need to get hurt for it.”

  Smirking, I patted him on his helmet. “Good boy.”

  A muffled roar came from the computer lab. I looked back to see Mr. McKinney still slamming his fists against the glass door, shouting in rage. Raising my hand, I wiggled my fingers in a wave.

  Stepping over unconscious guards, I walked over to Spencer and Tracie. They were both gasping for air with big smiles on their faces.

  A distant alarm wailed.

  A second later, the thud of more feet echoed from down the corridors.

  More guards.

  “As fun as that was,” Tracie said while smoothing out her shirt and pants, “I vote we get out of here while we have a chance.”

  “I second the motion,” Spencer said.

  “Motion passed.” I scowled in the direction of the computer lab. “We’ll take care of this place later.”

  We ran down the hallway, back toward the covered walkway that led to the main building and our exit. I whipped the keycard in front of the pad and the lock opened with a chunk. Twisting the handle, I yanked the door open and ran through.

  The door shut behind us just as we reached the center of the walkway. As we did, the door leading into the main building opened and a swarm of guards burst through.

  The four in the lead crouched down, with the four behind them standing tall. All eight had their rifles trained on us, and there were undoubtedly more guards behind them.

  BioZenith really had hired an army to try and control us.

  Before we could even turn to run back into the labs, those doors opened as well and even more guards came through—including some of the ones that had previously run away.

  Through the glass windows on either side of us I could see even more guards, dozens and dozens of them, standing beneath the walkway. These also had vicious Dobermans on leashes, their teeth bared and saliva dripping from their gums.

  We were completely surrounded.

  12

  BACKUP

  “Don’t shoot!” I shouted, throwing my hands into the air. “We’ll come without a fight!” Forcing my voice to go higher in pitch and tinging it with little-girl desperation, I cried, “I don’t want to get shot. Please don’t hurt me!”

  Just like with the first round of guards, those aiming their rifles waffled at seeing us, their expressions wavering. I mean, I was just a helpless girl, right? What possible reason could a big corporation have for tranqing me?

  Spencer, Tracie, and I stood back-to-back, our arms raised high. None of the guards spoke.

  “Should we go full werewolf?” Tracie asked in a whisper, uncertainty in her voice.

  “No,” I whispered back. “We don’t want to risk killing anyone.”

  “Then what’s the plan?” Spencer asked.

  A commotion came from the doorway that led into the labs. Guards were shoved aside as a bloody, disheveled Mr. McKinney, pressing a stained towel against his face, burst onto the walkway.

  Shaking with rage, he spun around in a circle, glaring at the guards. “We aren’t paying you to stare at them!” he roared. “Shoot them! Shoot them now!”

  Tiny red dots circled our chests, our stomachs.

  “Get ready to duck,” I hissed.

  And with the exception of the one that the three of us stood beside, all the windows facing the parking lot exploded inward.

  The noise was deafening, like twin bombs gone off at once. Slivers of glass sliced through the air, smashing and tinkling against the windows on the opposite side of the hallway. The guards screamed and shouted in surprise, dropping their guns and covering their faces. Mr. McKinney barely missed being sliced by a million little glass pieces as he threw himself onto the pile of men desperately trying to get out of the hallway and back into the buildings.

  Instinctively I’d covered my hea
d too. Gaping at the destruction, I looked out the sole unshattered window facing the street and saw Nikki, Amy, Brittany, and Casey hovering in the air.

  Our backup had arrived.

  Each cheerleader floated in front of where two glass planes had once been, equidistant from one another. They held one hand down with the palm facing toward the crowd of startled guards beneath them, and the other with the palm facing toward the walkway.

  Seeing us finally notice them, Amy raised her eyebrows and smirked at me. “So are you guys going to just stand there or what?”

  “Hurry, jump out,” Nikki called. “We’ll get you down safely.”

  Nodding at Spencer and Tracie, we stood to our full heights and then ran toward the open windows. I went right, back toward the second building, while Spencer and Tracie went left.

  Bunching my legs, I leaped off the windowsill and flew between Nikki and Amy. They aimed their hands at me and, as I started to arc toward the ground, it was though I hit some invisible trampoline. I bounced high into the air, jumping far past the crowd of guards toward the middle of the now-empty parking lot.

  As I neared the ground, I pulled myself into a ball and did a flip in midair. I landed in a practiced, easy crouch, then jumped to my feet. Spencer and Tracie landed easily behind me, followed by the cheerleaders.

  “Perfect timing,” Spencer said, grinning broadly at them.

  Nikki waved the phone at him. “We listened to everything. As soon as we heard fighting go down, we made a plan.”

  Behind us, the guards started shouting. Dogs barked and howled and feet thudded against the asphalt.

  You’d think seeing flying teenagers make a walkway explode would be enough to make you rethink your career choice. Maybe these guys were being paid really well.

  “Thanks!” I said to Nikki. Turning on my heel, I began to run toward the entrance of the other building where the minivan was still parked. “But I think it’s time to get out of here!”

  No one argued. The seven us ran faster than humanly possible—which was surprising to see from the cheerleaders, but telekinetic speed boosts certainly didn’t seem out of the question if they could make themselves, y’know, fly.

  Dozens of pops sounded as rifles went off. I looked back over my shoulder to see Brittany and Casey raising their hands behind them just in time. The tranquilizer darts exploded in midair, as though hitting some invisible wall.

  Veering left, we leaped onto the concrete walkway in front of the main building and hugged the wall. More guns were fired, but the cheerleaders deflected them easily.

  And we were at the minivan.

  The doors were unlocked. I leaped into the front passenger seat just as Spencer got in front of the wheel. Tracie ducked into the backseat. The four cheerleaders waited for us, their hands raised to block any bullets or darts that might be aimed for the tires. As soon as the car engine whirred to life, they leaped in.

  “Open the windows!” Nikki shouted. “Brit, Casey, make sure they don’t take out the tires. Amy and I are going to handle the gate.”

  “Got it!” the triplets responded in unison.

  It was incredible to see the four cheerleaders work together as a team. Though they bickered and were in general their own people, focused like this they were like four parts of the same machine. Brittany and Casey shoved open the windows on either side of the car, then leaned halfway out simultaneously and looked back. Brittany didn’t even complain about the wind messing up her hair, just aiming her hands at the pursuing guards to raise the invisible wall that would keep us driving.

  As soon as space was available, Nikki and Amy shoved their upper bodies through the other half of each window, only they faced front. Their expressions were stone as Spencer whipped across the asphalt, tires screeching as he veered around a roundabout in the center of the parking lot and then went full speed toward the gate.

  Facing forward, I gripped the sides of my seat and clenched my teeth, wide-eyed and pulse racing as the closed gate barreled toward us. Behind me, I could hear Tracie saying, “Oh God, oh my dear God,” under her breath.

  Right before we hit it, the gates exploded open. The force of Amy and Nikki’s psychic blast was so intense that one of the doors snapped free of its hinges and clanged into the street.

  With a squeal of rubber on road, Spencer yanked the van to the left and onto the main road. The cheerleaders pulled themselves back inside the car, gasping for air.

  Remembering what Tracie showed me behind the bleachers at the football game, I took in one long deep breath, then exhaled for just as long, over and over again until I could feel my pulse begin to slow, my muscles lose their tension. Everyone was silent, and all we could hear was the grumble of the car as Spencer slowed it down to normal speeds and wound through as many roads as we could.

  It didn’t appear that any car was chasing us. Yet.

  “Okay, wow,” Brittany said from the back at last. “So that was actually kind of fun. I feel like Zoë Saldana.” Gasping, her hands shot up to her head. “Oh my God, my hair is a tangled mess. I must look like I got put away wet.”

  Next to her, Casey sighed. “You look fine, Brit.” Smiling at me, she said, “We listened to everything that went down in there. You were really impressive. I never liked Mr. McKinney.”

  “Yeah,” Brittany said. “Who knew you were such a badass? Like, were you going for a whole Clark Kent thing?”

  My cheeks warmed. “Uh, well, it’s a recent change,” I said.

  “Good for Emily,” Amy said. “She punched a couple of guys in the face while we deflected bullets. But whatever, all in a day’s work.”

  Slowing to a stop at a stop sign, Spencer looked over at me. “So…where do we go now? What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Let’s just keep driving as far from there as possible. We probably shouldn’t go home yet. Since they got all our parents involved, there may be people waiting for us.”

  “Maybe not at our houses,” Nikki piped up. “They wouldn’t have known we were coming.”

  Crossing her arms and scowling, Amy slouched down in her seat. “Didn’t you hear what Dalton’s dad was going on about?” she asked. “One of them specifically said that the science that made us came from these Ack-things.”

  “Akhakhu,” I corrected.

  She waved a hand. “Whatever. But that means that our parents were part of whatever bigger company this BioZenith place was a part of. Maybe they were in on this the whole time, too.”

  Casey clasped her hands on her lap. “Our parents would never,” she whispered.

  “Hate to break it to you,” Tracie said from her cramped position in the middle of the cheerleaders, “but I never imagined I’d be seeing my mother here today. And yet there she was, eating like it was nothing that she let me go through hell for a month. And my dad was…”

  A tear fell from her eye and she let it fall. I could tell she was trying to regain her composure—who wouldn’t when surrounded by the popular girls—but her lower lip trembled anyway.

  Reaching back, I took her hand. She squeezed it.

  “I should have let you talk to your dad,” I said softly. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “No. I didn’t want to. I don’t know how you were able to talk to your mom knowing what she did to us.”

  “I don’t know either.”

  Spencer was being strangely quiet. Letting go of Tracie’s hand, I looked over at him in the driver’s seat. There was no excitement on his face from our near escape, none of his usual good nature in the face of dire events. In fact, he looked incredibly pissed.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him, placing a hand gently on his thigh.

  He shrugged, his eyes focused on the road. We were deep in a neighborhood I wasn’t familiar with, but from the size of the houses I could tell we were in the affluent part of Skopamish.

  “Spencer?” I asked again.

  “I’m fine,” he said. Meeting my eyes, he softened. “Just,
I’m freaking out a little bit. We can’t go home, can we? Can we ever? I don’t think we have any money, and we’ve got a corporation that went and hired a bunch of mercenaries or something to come after us. Not to mention the Akhakhu and whatever they want.”

  I leaned back into my seat. He was right. In all my righteous fury at Mr. McKinney, Caroline, and BioZenith, I hadn’t really thought beyond that afternoon.

  “Oh,” Tracie moaned in the backseat.

  I turned around to see her clutch her head and close her eyes. Brittany grabbed her arm as the girl slipped down in her seat.

  “Tracie!” I cried. “Tracie, what is it?”

  Blinking her eyes open, she looked up at me. “It was her,” she spat as she climbed back up into her seat. “She kept screaming in my head while you two were talking.”

  “Who’s ‘her’?” Amy asked.

  “Nighttime,” I answered for Tracie. “It’s a sort of…alternate personality we have at night. Or at least we did until we learned how to get it under control.”

  “Oh.” Amy smirked. “So that’s your excuse for slutting it up lately.”

  I ignored her and turned my attention back to Tracie. “What did, um, she say?” I asked.

  “Mostly nonsense,” Tracie said. “As usual. But the general gist of it is that the one place the BioZenith people won’t expect us to go back to is the place we just escaped: BioZenith.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Actually, that’s a really good point.”

  And I realized what had to be done.

  Sitting back in my seat to look forward, I took in a deep breath to calm myself. My pulse had quickened as soon as the idea hit me, because the prospect of it was huge. Unimaginable.

  I’d been delaying the end of life as I knew it for weeks now. The time was coming when I needed to face the only conclusion to this problem. And nothing would be the same after. Not after what we knew. Not after what we were going to have to do.