Shield

by Rachael Craw

  Benjamin whirls towards me. He doesn’t see Knox, eyes wide, changing his mind about the value of my life, scrabbling inside his jacket. A blur of limbs. Benjamin caught off balance. Juno in my way. Knox snarling, his arm unfurling, metal in his hand. I snatch Benjamin’s gun, knocking him out of the way.

  Kill Knox.

  The crack of a gunshot.

  A red hole, the size of a penny, appears above Knox’s right eye and he’s falling before my finger compresses the trigger. I stare at the cold tip of the barrel. I turn the gun and find the safety latch in place. I pant and the room spins like a slow carousel.

  Juno steps forwards, a gun lying in her palm, holding it up for display. I stare, uncomprehending. Benjamin shows me his empty hands. Juno took it from him? She waits, making sure she has everyone’s attention. Her chest rises and falls with quick hard breaths and she lifts her voice for all to hear. “You are witnesses to the execution of Counsellor Robert Knox. In keeping with the Primary Objectives as dictated in the covenants of Reform. Stripped of title, rank and life, he is charged with grievous misconduct unbecoming a member of the Executive Council, attempting to take the life of a recognised Asset whose DNA is the confirmed property of the Affinity Project and therefore protected by its statutes. All orders given by Knox are hereby revoked and all agents submitted to his directives will now report to and take orders from me. The Initiative is out of bounds. All interference with its members or work is forbidden. Is this clear?”

  There is only one remaining agent on her feet. She produces a shaky nod.

  “Benjamin, Helena, escort Miriam to the recovery ward. Evangeline, you will accompany me to the lower barracks.”

  I blink gormlessly at Juno’s impassive face, unable to comprehend what just happened – what I nearly did. I don’t know whether to be grateful, disappointed or relieved that she took the shot before me. Knox lies on his back, saline and Symbiosis lapping the side of his face. I expect him to sneer, sit up and bark orders but his eyes are blank and a red ribbon glistens on his face.

  Benjamin approaches cautiously, giving Knox’s body a wide berth. “You have broken ribs. Your lungs are full of saline. Let me go.”

  My hands curl into fists. “Like hell.”

  “Evie–”

  “Don’t aggravate her,” Juno says. “She has a gun. You’ll go with Helena. I can’t permit anyone else to enter the lower barracks until the situation is contained. Asset protection remains our highest priority.”

  “You called me property.”

  She wets her lips. “It’s the only thing that makes my actions legal.”

  I shut my mouth.

  “Benjamin,” Helena calls.

  “What the hell is going on?” It’s Miriam’s rasping voice and I swivel to see her. She struggles to stay upright next to Helena in the ReProg room. “Evie has broken ribs? What lower barracks? Where’s Ethan?”

  “I’m fine.” The sight of her moving – the sound of her voice – makes me ache. So much love and fear. How can I tell her what she doesn’t yet know. “You need to rest. Helena will take care of you. I’ll explain everything later.”

  Helena catches my meaning and gives me a nod. “You’ll need this.” She digs the final syringe from her pocket and tosses it through the gaping void of the Vault wall. I make no effort to catch it. Benjamin does. He offers it to me. I don’t take it. Juno does. There’s an uncomfortable exchange of looks.

  “Be safe,” Benjamin says before making his way through the slime and gunk to help Helena.

  Juno gives me a hard look. “Shall we?”

  JUNO

  By the time we reach the elevator to the lower barracks, I’m rasping for air and the soles of my feet are bleeding so badly it’s slippery to run. Rivulets of saline still drip from my hair, into my eyes, down the back of my neck. My filthy scrubs cling to the damp bio-film and my sticky legs. Blood seeps through the baby-blue cotton in patches down my right side and there are stains from where I wiped the Symbiosis from my hands. I look like a suspicious shambles, next to Counsellor Thurston, barefoot, gun in my hand.

  Michael Jessop.

  My brain spews ticker tape, reams of questions spliced with panic. Juno killed Knox. To keep me from killing Knox? Knox is dead. I wanted to kill him. We’re going to fry.

  Michael Jessop.

  Juno enters the code for the elevator and I wait beside her, wheezing, rattling. The corridors are eerily quiet. Did she call it in – have them cleared? There was no sign of activity as we passed Ethan’s lab. No sign of Davis, Lane or red-headed Stevens and the team of civs. Did they recover? Have they gone down to the lower barracks? How long has it been? Thirty minutes since I entered the tank? Fifteen minutes since I saw Stephanie take the Spark? Ten minutes since Juno shot Knox in the head?

  Knox is dead.

  Miriam is alive.

  Michael Jessop.

  I need the tether. I need proof of life. My heart slams in my chest. It takes an age for the elevator to rise. So long I begin to imagine too many terrible things – the elevator is filled with lethally armed anti-Initiative agents ready to kill. The lower barracks is a bloodbath. Michael bleeds out on the gurney. Ethan’s shot in the head. Jamie’s coated in the Stray’s blood or dying in his own. Stephanie lines up rows of bodies, Davis, Lane, Stevens, all collateral damage …

  The elevator chimes. I throw myself at the bandwidth but there’s no ETR beyond mine and Juno’s. The doors open and I have to unlock my joints to move. When they close, she stabs the button and my stomach swoops as we descend. If Michael’s dead, I’ll feel nothing and I’ll know I’m too late.

  “Evangeline …” Juno hits the emergency stop.

  I have my gun at her head before she can lift her hand from the button. “No.”

  She holds up her hands. “You need to make a decision.”

  “Get me to Michael, now.”

  “I helped you save your mother and I saved you. If I’d let you kill Knox – the World Council–”

  “I don’t give a shit about the World Council.”

  “Tonight will end one way or another. We will all give an account. If we survive – if we succeed – then we have something to offer. You have something to offer.” She digs the small syringe from her inside pocket.

  I bare my teeth at the blocker.

  “You promised you would do whatever I want.”

  I lower my gun, struggling to think straight.

  “Take the blocker or let the Fixation Effect hit and fight your way through me.”

  “Fight you?” I screw my face up. “How is that a choice?”

  “It’s your only choice.”

  I can’t even feel the tether and my brain is screaming don’t do it, don’t risk it.

  “This is the only chance we have to save your father’s work. To make everything we’ve been fighting for worth something. To make your brother’s sacrifice count.”

  “Don’t use him to manipulate me,” I hiss. “He died because of the Affinity Project, not for it.”

  “If we fail Ethan will be removed from the World Council; his influence will be gone. Eliminating Knox isn’t enough. We need to succeed. We need leverage. Nothing will change without it.”

  I stare at her wild eyes. “Eliminating Knox?”

  A muscle twitches in her lips.

  My brain skids to a halt.

  “Evie–”

  “That was planned?”

  “We don’t have time.”

  “You planned it.”

  “I made a call.”

  “What other calls have you made?”

  “Don’t be so naive. You were going to kill him.”

  “I didn’t plan that; he threatened my Spark.”

  “What difference does it make? It needed to happen.”

  I lunge at her signal full-force. She rocks back, slamming against the wall, her eyes glazing and her mouth falling open. Her arms twitch at her sides. It’s not a seamless entry. She’s resistant. Guarded. Strong. Not
strong enough. I plough my way through the invisible film, a plunge into rushing colour. Nothing tidy in my reach, I cast wide – suspicion my lure, feeling for guilt, culpability, intent.

  An image unfurls, Knox blistering at the centre. I slip inside Juno’s skin, looking through her eyes. I’m standing on the metal walkway overlooking the Nexus. It’s eerily quiet. Late. Knox beside me, stares fixedly at a blinking dot on the screen below him, a schematic of the women’s dormitory. The dot blinks in room six-one-eight. “Spit it out, Juno.” I grip the cold metal rail. “You’re watching her?” He snorts. “I’m curious. Aren’t you curious? Ethan’s so … invested.” I don’t reply straightaway. My pulse races and I bite the inside of my lip. He sneers. “You think he can do no wrong.” My mouth moves with Juno’s breathy whisper, “Evangeline and the boy, that’s who you should watch.” Knox grows still and he turns to eye me. “What are you saying?” I hold his gaze. “Simply that it’s worth investigating.”

  Shock shakes me from the memory but another slides into place. A whirr of limbs, jarring strikes that rattle my skull, vibrating through my bones. Knox again, fierce as he stalks me. I recognise the men’s gym. I’m dripping with sweat, my stomach tight with anticipation, I want to hurt him but I’m holding back. Sparring. We’re sparring. He scowls. “You made me look like a fool.” I shrug. “I gave you an opportunity, Robert. If you’d taken her in the transport bay Ethan would have fought you, the Initiative wouldn’t have gone into the field, they wouldn’t have secured their subject.” He stops stalking me and grips his hips, panting and scowling. “They have a Stray?” I nod, turning to take a towel from the bench. I need to hurry if I’m going to meet Ethan’s team when they return. “He just called for an Extraction team; they have too many injured to bring in the Spark.” Knox narrows his eyes. “You couldn’t have predicted that.” My smile broadens. “You’re missing the point. His team is weakened.” Knox sours his lips. “Are you going to pretend this was your master plan?” I shrug. “This is your opportunity. Seize it.”

  Michael Jessop.

  I can’t take a single second more. I hurl her signal away from me like it’s a contaminated thing. The return to the present is like a crashlanding. I drive the barrel of the gun into her forehead, my hand on her throat, just as her eyes come back into focus and the effect of the Harvest lifts. “It’s not what you think. You don’t understand.”

  “You did this. You set this up for Knox.”

  “No! Not for him!”

  “Michael’s going to die because of you.”

  “No, Jamie’s down there. He’ll protect him.”

  “Jamie could be dead. My father – my father could be dead because of you.”

  “No,” she chokes, face bright-red, eyes streaming. “I did this for him. For the future. Knox is the one who’ll be discredited. Not Ethan. The World Council will see–”

  “You’re a lying piece of–”

  “I needed Knox to act, to show his hand, just a push to throw things into chaos. This will bring change. Everything will change.”

  My mind is a battleground. Which Juno is real? The one from the Harvest, scheming with Knox? The one I glimpsed from the tank, scathing and dismissive? Or the one in my hands right now, raving about the future? “You let me blame Helena. You lied to my father, to all of us.”

  “Lighter fluid, Evangeline. I needed Knox to react, to set him off – that’s all.”

  “To prove what? That he’s a psychopath?”

  “To prove the old ways are toxic, to prove that Knox – his mindset – everything it represents, is what holds us back as an organisation. Your father’s vision is the future. A better way.”

  “But you’ve jeopardised all of it! His life!”

  “Change is bigger than one person. We all have to sacrifice.”

  I shake her roughly and lean in. “Why is it that the people who always say crap like that are the ones with nothing to lose?”

  “Please, Evangeline. You promised …”

  Urgency knifes through me, my grip tightens on the gun, and I grit my teeth against the internal chant of Michael Jessop, Michael Jessop. Stop. Breathe. I think of Ethan in the cell block, his arms around me, his murmured words … This is not the end. “Shit.” I smack the butt of the gun into Juno’s head. Her eyes roll up and she slumps to the floor. I grab the needle from her limp hand, uncap the tip and jam it into the side of my neck.

  I hit the console and reactivate the elevator. We drop and I moan as the blocker diffuses through my bloodstream.

  Then it hits me like whiplash, the tether awash with life. It sends a burst of pins and needles up my spine but the pain is relief and hope. Michael Jessop is alive. Black shadow and vicious static follow, making me gasp and grip the side rail. My pupils dilate and the light grows razor sharp. I groan and rub my face, my stomach, confused by the tether and the sense of threat and the missing element … the kill switch, that primal instinctual need – not gone – but diminished. My head is muddy and my body feels slow. I open and close my hands but there’s a numbing thickness to my joints. I don’t like it.

  The elevator chimes. “Don’t. Kill. Anyone.”

  STRAY

  The doors rattle open on three civilian bodies. Though there is no sign of blood loss, I don’t need to touch them to know they’re dead. They have no static and despite the terrific noise, shouts and gunshots echoing from the barracks, I can tell they have no pulse. My chest aches like I’ve torn ligaments.

  I edge my way past them, sliding along the wall, gun pointed at the floor. Everything is surreal. Everything is dislocated. I’m a simulation inside a simulation. Three men are dead. Juno’s men. Civilian agents. Juno let this happen. Knox ordered it. Stephanie did it – Stephanie. Her team of anti-Initiative agents.

  Michael is alive. He’s alive.

  Ahead of me, as I inch my way forwards, the barracks looks like a mess. The dining table is on its side, Ethan’s equipment is everywhere.

  God. Oh, God. Where’s Ethan? Jamie? Please don’t be dead.

  An edge of overturned bed pokes into the corridor. As I draw closer I see Lane sitting beneath the edge of the kitchen counter, his good hand gripping one of the civilian agent’s guns. The wounds I made on his face gleam with sweat. He watches me approach, nodding, holding up two fingers and pointing towards the opening to the gym. Two agents guarding the viewing platform?

  “Surrender your weapon, agent Thomas,” a woman calls. I freeze. I have a moment of confusion before I remember Thomas is Lane’s last name. I strain to see if Davis is with him, afraid he might be lying blank-eyed in a pool of blood.

  “Like hell,” he says. “The World Council’s coming. They’ll fry you in ReProg for this.” He gestures frantically then holds his hand up and begins to count down on his fingers. Five, four, three … Does he think I have a clue what I’m doing? Does he think I’m a trained agent? I’m a jumble of uncoordinated bones, my ears are hot, I can’t focus. Michael Jessop – the tether is life and power. Lane reaches one and I launch myself out into the common room.

  Lane rises with me, firing at the opening to the viewing platform. I vault the overturned table, charging right at the agents in the doorway. Don’t kill anyone. Two gunshots but I only see the effect of one. The standing agent’s gun spins out of her hand, cartwheeling over the viewing platform and into the void of the gym – Lane’s direct hit. The crouching woman still has her gun, her eyes widening as I come at her, my cheek fiery hot from the graze of her bullet.

  Don’t kill anyone.

  Scooping a metal clipboard from the upturned wreckage, I fling it at her as I charge. She manages to get her arm up to protect her face but it gives me the split second I need to drive my foot into her wrist. I catch the sound of snapping bone and her gun flies after the other lost weapon. She recoils with a scream, wrapping her hand around the break. Then there are arms and knees and teeth bared and my stomach caved in by a fist and skin leaves my neck beneath sharp nails and the bones in my ar
m are tested. Lane shouts and discharges his weapon and the agents stop their attack or their defence and they’re bloody and my mouth is bloody and everyone pants like hell.

  “Go, Evie.” Lane comes limping from the kitchen.

  “You’re too late.” The woman with the broken wrist.

  It’s only then I remember I’m holding a gun. I punch her in the face with it. My knuckles sting and her bloodied nose doesn’t make me feel better.

  I pound my way down the metal stairs, every step sending dizzying pain through my ribs. All I hear is my pulse in my ears and the rough wet intake of my breath. It’s not like the times I went after Aiden – I haven’t had that moment of dropping fear like dead skin, that stepping into the lacquered armour of rage. I’m still afraid. This is what Ethan’s drug costs me, the killer edge. I can feel Michael. I can feel the Stray. Jamie. Ethan. They’re alive but terror stomps my joy. Five other signals. I’m about to enter a war zone.

  Deep voices, shouts, crashes. Cries of pain. A thud. Out through the open slider flies a large body. He lands on his back, already lifting a gun to fire but a crutch comes spinning out after him – straight at his head. He grunts, deflecting it with his elbow before aiming again for the cell block. My gun goes off, bruising the inside of my thumb knuckle with the recoil. His hand erupts in blood and his weapon clatters on the floor. One of Knox’s men – one of Stephanie’s. Davis staggers into the gym propping himself against the door. He’s a mess, bloodied face, struggling on his damaged leg. “Knox,” he says. “This is all Knox.”

  The agent on the ground writhes and swears, cradling his wounded hand to his chest, struggling to get to his feet. Davis gives me a look like, little help? I drive my heel into the agent’s thigh. The snap makes my stomach lurch. His scream echoes off the high ceiling then fades as he passes out.