Twenty minutes later, the intercom came on again.
A panicked voice said, “Gifford safe room, respond! Respond, damn it!”
Terry replied briskly, “Rabbit here. Identify, please.”
“We’re being overrun – they’re coming up!” the voice said frantically. “Too damn many! Evacuate now! Get to NH-6!”
“Identify!” Terry said again.
What we heard this time, though, were screams and shouts, and gunfire in the background. Then Mr. Williams’s voice came on. “Get out, Rabbit!” he shouted. “They’re swarming us! Get out now!”
Terry asked, “Is Silver safe?”
The intercom went dead. Terry, Alia and I stared at each other.
In the weeks following the Guardians’ assassination of Queen Larissa Divine, as the tensions between the Guardians and the Angels flared up, we had often discussed the possibility of a major Angel invasion. But the Guardians had prepared for this. Hours ago, after retaking NH-1, the Knights had assured us that they had everything under control.
“Second wave,” breathed Terry. “It’s happening.”
“The Seraphim are in the building, Terry,” I said, “so how are we getting out?”
Terry glanced at Alia for a brief instant and then said, “Over the side.” Terry unlocked the safe-room door. “Parachutes are on the roof.”
I knew that. When the Guardians fitted our windows with bulletproof glass, they had also left a set of emergency parachutes on the roof for just this kind of occasion.
I grabbed Alia’s hand and pulled her with us as we sprinted through the living room and out the front door. As soon as we opened the door to the staircase across from the elevators, I heard echoing shouts from below. How close were they?
Her pistol tucked under her belt, Terry led us up to the roof door and opened it.
“Alia’s too small for the harness so I’ll take her down myself,” said Terry as we stepped out of the door and ran across the roof to where our parachutes were stowed. “Help me put on my harness, Adrian. Then you can fly.”
Ever since losing her left arm, Terry loathed being taken care of, refusing to be treated like a cripple. It was a testament to how desperate our time constraints were that Terry would ask for my help in something as trivial as strapping on a parachute harness.
Coming to a sudden stop, Terry cursed furiously, and I immediately saw why. The large nylon bag containing all of our parachutes was missing.
“That bastard!” screamed Terry. Score one for the dead berserker.
Terry turned to me and asked, “Can you get Alia down?”
I nodded slowly. “Probably.”
Human levitation was one of the toughest things a telekinetic could do, not only because of blood iron, but because of the sheer complexity of the human body. A powerful telekinetic could fly for several minutes or hover quietly for longer, but to lift himself and another person simultaneously was often beyond the capabilities of even the most powerful. When the Angels had abducted Cindy out of our penthouse last year, it took two flight-capable telekinetics carrying Cindy between them to make a controlled descent away from the building.
Soon after the gathering of lesser gods, I discovered that my telekinetic power had grown once again. I could now, for very brief periods of time, levitate both myself and Alia together. Not long enough to carry her up forty floors, but a controlled fall would be easier. All I had to do was keep us from hitting the ground too fast.
“Alright, you jump with Alia,” said Terry, looking back at the door to the stairs. “I’ll find another way down.”
“No!” I said. “We’re all staying together.”
Alia nodded in agreement, but Terry argued, “I can’t protect you two if I’m going to get through the Seraphim!”
Terry wasn’t an easy person to kill, but she had limits too. I shook my head. “You’ll never get through them, Terry. You’re coming with us!”
Even as I said that, I questioned the wisdom of it. Terry was a full head taller than me. How was I going to carry her weight?
“Take Alia down and come back for me, then,” said Terry.
I shook my head again. I doubted I would have enough energy to fly straight back up here after escorting Alia down. The Seraphim could be here any moment. “We’re going together, Terry,” I said firmly. “Together or not at all!”
“You can’t carry both of us!”
“Yeah? Watch me!” I shouted back, trying to sound much more confident than I felt. “No metal, Terry. Lose it now!”
After a moment’s hesitation, Terry tossed her pistol over the side, followed by her hook attachment. Then, looking down at herself, she quickly pulled off her shoes, belt and jeans. Terry’s shoes and belt had metal buckles, and her jeans had a metal button and zipper. Terry wasn’t modest at the best of times, and this was an emergency. Wrapping her jeans around her shoes, she threw the bundle over the edge.
Psionics like Alia and myself never wore metal if we could help it. I looked down at the Braille watch on my right wrist. It had been a present from Mark Parnell. I tore it off and threw it over the side of the building.
Then I lightly climbed over the side railing, carefully standing on the few inches of space between the railing and the ledge. Terry lifted Alia over, passing her to me.
Having accidentally peeked over the ledge, Alia cried into my head, “Addy, I’m scared!”
She wasn’t the only one. “Arms around my neck, Alia,” I said as calmly as I could. “Don’t look down.”
Once my sister was semi-comfortably latched onto me, I said to Terry, “Come on, hurry up!”
But Terry was having second thoughts. “No, Adrian! We’ll never make it!”
“Come on, soldier!” I barked.
Terry reluctantly climbed over the railing and put her arms around Alia and me.
I looked down at the distant darkness below and thought that Terry was probably right. We weren’t going to make it.
Terry shouted, “So what happens if you can’t carry us both? Who gets to die?!”
The roof door burst open.
“I’ll decide on the way down!”
I leaned back over the ledge, and felt my stomach jump into my throat as we fell as one. I saw the windows rushing past, and heard Alia screaming over the howling wind. I felt her arms tighten around me. Terry was still with us too. It felt like I was watching a slow-motion replay from far away. I could almost count the floors.
I knew from the start that carrying both Terry and Alia, there was no way to make even a semi-controlled descent. My telekinetic power would never last long enough for that. Instead, I would have to kick-stop in midair just before we hit the ground. I waited until we were less than one hundred feet from oblivion.
Then I roared. Every ounce of power I ever possessed had to come out now. I felt my telekinesis tear through my body. I felt it slice into Alia and Terry. For a micro-second eternity, inside the deepest part of my consciousness, I could feel every hair on Alia’s head, every scar on her skin. I felt the awkward stump at the end of Terry’s left arm, and the fierce beating of her heart. Here and now, there was nothing else. No wind. No sound. No color. Not even the force of gravity. Just Alia, Terry and myself in motion.
Motion that had to stop. Now!
We smashed into the ground. It was soft, wet earth. I couldn’t feel my own body, my senses completely numbed except for a loud, constant ringing in my ears.
Then I heard Alia crying, and Terry said weakly, “Up, Alia.”
They were alive, but I didn’t even have the strength left to feel relieved. I could hear distant shouts and calls, but couldn’t make them out. Where were we? I was lying on my back, unable to even move my head, but I guessed that we had landed behind NH-1. We were safe for the moment, I hoped.
I saw Terry lean over me and peer into my face.
“Alive?” she asked.
I just managed to say, “Uh,” and Terry disappeared from view.
Terry’
s voice from somewhere to my left said, “What is it, Alia? Oh!”
Then, probably replying to something Alia said telepathically, Terry said, “You’re right, it’s definitely broken. Just don’t heal it yet, okay? I’ve got to straighten your bone first. Here.”
I heard Alia yelp in pain as Terry did whatever she did next.
“Okay, do it now,” said Terry. “At least you’re not bleeding.”
Alia didn’t respond aloud, but continued whimpering in pain. Whatever she had broken, this clearly wasn’t her day either.
Terry came back over to me. “Can you move yet? Come on, Adrian. I need you to get up.”
With Terry’s help, I managed to pull myself into a sitting position. I tried moving my feet a bit.
“Oh, good,” said Terry, “you didn’t break your neck. Knowing your luck, I thought you might be paralyzed or something.”
“I’m okay,” I breathed.
“Can you stand?” she asked impatiently.
“Not sure.”
“Rest a minute, then. But only a minute.”
Terry went to look for the stuff she had tossed from the roof.
I touched Cat’s amethyst pendant around my neck to check that it was still there. The small violet stone was all I had when I first left home after turning psionic. I realized that once again, I had left everything behind. Then I glanced at my sister, who was similarly touching her chest to see if the bloodstone that Cindy had given her was still there. Well, perhaps not quite everything.
“What happened to you, Ali?” I asked. “Are you alright?”
My sister lifted her left arm a bit and said bravely, “It’s a little stiff, but I’m okay.”
“Sorry about the rough landing.”
“It’s okay.”
If it had occurred to me, I might have tried searching for my Braille watch, but it didn’t. Terry was gone less than a minute. When she returned, I noticed that she had recovered her hook attachment, belt, jeans and shoes. No pistol, though.
“Time to go, Adrian. Come on, you can stand,” she said, roughly pulling me to my feet, which still felt quite rubbery.
“Wait,” said Alia, coming up to us. “Don’t pretend like you’re okay, Terry. Addy, you too.”
In addition to healing her broken arm, Alia had already taken care of whatever bruises she had sustained from our crash-landing, and she now spent a few minutes tending to Terry’s and mine.
As Alia worked her healing on us, Terry smirked at me, saying, “Nice landing, Half-head.”
“We’re still alive, aren’t we?” I replied gruffly.
My sister finished running her hands over our bruises. My physical pain was gone, but I was still feeling very lightheaded.
Terry didn’t care. “Come on,” she said, “we need to get going.”
Terry grabbed my left hand and Alia took hold of my right. I somehow managed to stagger along with them as we cut across the block, heading away from NH-1.
“I can walk,” I said, pulling my hands free, and I found that I could, albeit clumsily. “Where are we going? NH-6?”
“NH-4,” replied Terry. “It’s closer, and there’s a Knight command post there, so if the building is still ours, we might find out where they took Cindy.”
“Sounds good.”
Alia stumbled, and Terry stopped to pull her up.
“It’s alright, Alia,” said Terry, crouching down. “Hop on.”
It was only then that I noticed that my sister, still in her nightclothes, wasn’t even wearing shoes or socks.
Alia climbed onto Terry’s back. As we started walking again, I saw that there were many more cars and people on the road than usual for this time of night. How many were Guardians? How many were Knights? How many were Angel Seraphim?
Picking up her pace, Terry looked back at me and said, “Probably no one will attack us in the open, but there’s no way to be certain. This may be much bigger than we thought. Stay sharp, okay?”
We entered the large park that ran between the NH-1 and NH-4 buildings. I followed Terry through a clump of trees and across a grassy field. Looking up, I saw the forty-story New Haven Four towering over us. Most of the lights were off in the windows, but a few near the top were still on.
Suddenly I heard a voice cry out, “Terry! Terry Henderson!”
We stopped and turned toward the frantic figure rushing up to us. It was a teenage boy with short blond hair. He was almost as tall as Terry, and I had a feeling I had seen him before somewhere.
“Terry!” the boy cried. “Oh God, you gotta help us!”
Terry asked sharply, “What’s going on?!”
“We’re over there,” said the boy, pointing to a line of trees in the distance. “Come on! Hurry!”
We followed him toward the trees, but Terry stopped before we came too close. She put Alia down on the grass and said to me, “Stay here. It could be a trap.”
Without waiting for a reply, Terry ran into the trees. A moment later, she called out, “It’s okay, Hansel, come on!”
If the boy was being manipulated by an Angel controller, it was equally possible that Terry was also under psionic control now. I didn’t remember Terry’s security code so I couldn’t ask her to recite it. But I had noticed that she called me Hansel.
I looked at Alia and shrugged. We ran through the line of trees, coming into a small clearing.
Alia was hopping up and down, probably having stepped on some sharp twigs or something, but I ignored her, my attention instead on the many pairs of eyes looking at us.
They were all children.
About fifteen or so in number, some looked old enough to be in high school, but most were younger, some even smaller than Alia. The youngest ones looked quite terrified, and a few were sobbing quietly. I noticed a boy, a little taller than Alia, holding a bundle of cloth in his arms. It was a baby.
The boy who had led us here was saying rapidly to Terry, “They left us in the basement parking lot. The Knights. They gathered us there. They said they’d come back, but they didn’t. I don’t know where they are.”
“You’re all from NH-4?” asked Terry.
“Yeah,” he replied. “The Angels were coming in from the lobby. We couldn’t stay. There were a lot more of us, but the Angels were waiting outside. They started rounding us up. They were putting everyone onto a bus.”
A few of the younger ones started crying louder. One of the older girls tried to hush them, and some others helped, but even the baby woke and started screaming.
“We can’t leave them here, Terry,” I said. “NH-4 is probably lost.”
“I agree,” said Terry, and then added warningly, “But you better start calling me Rabbit, Hansel. This is no different from being on a mission.”
I rolled my eyes. I had always considered Guardian call signs a stupid and unnecessary protocol. It’s not like the Angels didn’t know who we were.
Terry looked around at the crowd and said, “If any of you have psionic combat powers, step forward. Destroyers or controllers, I don’t care.”
One of the older boys slowly raised his hand, saying, “I’m a pyroid.”
“Good,” Terry said crisply. “I’m Terry Henderson. Call me Rabbit.”
“Yeah,” said the boy, “I know who you are. I’m Peter.”
“Okay, Peter-the-Pyroid, you’re with me,” said Terry. “Gretel, you too. We’re going to go get some help. Hansel, you stay.”
My strength was gradually returning, but I still felt a bit faint so I didn’t argue.
Alia said something telepathically to Terry.
“Oh, right,” said Terry, looking at Alia’s bare feet. “On my back, then. I’ll carry you till we’re back on the street. I’m going to need you with us just in case.”
As Alia climbed onto Terry’s back, Terry turned to me and said, “Stay put, stay hidden. And see if you can get those damn kids to quiet down. If we’re not back in ten minutes, Hansel, you get them out of New Haven.”
Peter
walked up to Terry and extended his hand, but Terry didn’t shake it.
“You better be for real, fire boy,” said Terry, poking him in the chest. “Let’s go.”
The three disappeared beyond the trees. The little kids were still crying, but the older ones were doing the best they could to comfort them, so I left them to it and flopped down on the damp grass.
I heard two of the older teen girls whispering loudly.
“Did you see her?”
“Yeah! She had a hook on her arm!”
“That was really Terry Henderson! Oh my God! So that’s Adrian Gifford!”
The two girls approached me, and one asked timidly, “Are you really Adrian?”
I nodded numbly.
The girl looked at me in awe. “Wow… It’s really you!”
Wonderful, I thought savagely. We’re famous.
In our two years living in New Haven, Alia and I had made no friends except for Terry and Laila. We couldn’t even go to a normal school. Because we lived with Cindy, Guardian parents forbade their children from associating with us for fear of being targeted by Angels. I was still bitter about that, and I didn’t appreciate our semi-celebrity status at all. It wasn’t right that we could be famous and friendless at the same time.
“Was that little girl Alia?” the teen girl asked.
I didn’t respond, but her friend said, “Yeah, it must have been. I heard she’s a Knight too.”
“No way! That cutie?”
I glared up at them both, saying irately, “Would you two please go take care of the little ones?”
Looking wounded, they quickly backed off.
The blond-haired boy who had led us here came up to me and said nervously, “Hi, Adrian. Maybe you don’t remember me, but we met once.”
“I remember you,” I said, finally remembering where I had seen him before. “You’re James, the boy who can’t catch Frisbees.”
James gave me a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry about that time. I really am.”
“It’s okay,” I said quietly. “But leave me alone and let me rest a bit, okay? I just fell off a very tall building and I’m dead tired. Go help that boy over there quiet his baby.”
Terry was gone a long time. I had lost my watch, so I couldn’t count off ten minutes, but nor did I care. Now that I was feeling stronger, I regretted letting Alia and Terry go off without me. I wasn’t going to lead these kids out of New Haven without making sure that my sister was alright.
The Quest (Psionic Pentalogy Book 4) Page 3