Rebels

by Jill Williamson

  Mason had to stop him.

  The helicopter flew to the far end of the runway and made to set down in the cul-de-sac there. Mason needed a plan. He could see a plane waiting about fifty yards from the cul-de-sac, facing away from the helicopter, pointed up the runway like it was ready to take off. The side door was down, making a set of steps up into the airplane. And the helicopter was about to land facing away from the plane. If Mason were quick, he might be able to make it to the plane without being seen.

  He didn’t wait for the helicopter to land fully. The moment the ground was within six feet, Mason let his legs drop. His feet hit the icy asphalt and he let go of the landing skid and skated out of the way. His first few steps were pretty wobbly, but soon he was running.

  He reached the plane and grabbed the rail on the steps. His momentum sent him skidding past the steps, over ice and tiny pebbles, but he held on until he stopped, then ran up the steps. He glanced back at the helicopter as he entered the cabin, just as the helicopter door opened.

  Mason knew little about airplanes. This one was like stepping into an apartment. Against one wall, four beige leather seats sat two on each side of a dark wood table. Across from them were two more seats, one behind the other. Farther down the aisle were six more seats facing the back of the plane and a Wyndo wall screen on one side of a narrow doorway. Mason ran to it. He passed through an area with a kitchen counter on one side and a bathroom on the other.

  A curtain covered the end of the aisle. Mason slipped behind it. His shins struck a full-sized bed that filled in the tail end of the plane. It was covered with a white blanket and cinched across the middle with a long seatbelt. On the wall behind the bed, another Wyndo wall screen hung on a wood panel wall that closed off the rest of the tail.

  He heard voices outside. A crying baby. Hide! Where to hide?

  He squeezed in between the curtain and the partial wall that held the bed in place and pulled some of the excess folds of the curtain around his body.

  The baby’s cry grew louder. It was inside the plane now.

  “Put her in the back seat,” Lawten said, his voice somewhat muted. He was up near the front of the plane. “And make sure you buckle her in.”

  “Yes, sir.” This voice was male, soft and young.

  The plane trembled as people walked around. Mason held his breath. He could hear movement just past the kitchen/bathroom area. Was the “her” Ciddah? If so, why didn’t she speak?

  “The woman is secured, sir,” the young man said.

  “Good,” Lawten said. “Now go ask the captain what I should do with the baby.” Elyot was still crying. “And you, get me some coffee.”

  “But I don’t know how to make coffee, sir.” This voice was deeper and somewhat offended.

  “Then get me some wine, water, whatever you can find, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Footsteps brought someone back toward the bed. Mason could hear him opening cupboards and drawers.

  “The captain said someone needs to hold him or we could strap him down on the bed.” The young voice again. “At least until we’re in the air.”

  “Then put him on the bed. Maybe he’ll go to sleep. Be sure and strap him in, though.”

  “Yes, sir.” Silence followed but for Elyot’s screaming until, “What are you doing?”

  “He wants coffee. Do you know how to make it?”

  “I don’t even drink it. Let me past with this kid, will you?”

  Something pushed against the bed curtain. Mason pinched the fabric around himself so that no one could see him.

  The curtain shifted again, and an enforcer leaned into view and laid baby Elyot on the end of the bed. He reached up and fumbled with the seatbelt. Once he got it apart, he moved the baby to the center of the bed and buckled the belt over Elyot’s middle. The baby continued to scream. Hadn’t they brought any milk for the kid? Ciddah would know what to do, but where was she?

  The enforcer walked back to the kitchen area. “I don’t understand why he’s traveling without his assistant. He always takes his assistant.”

  “He said it was a vacation for him and his lifer.”

  “That woman didn’t sound like she was his lifer,” the younger one said. “And who orders an enforcer to stun their lifer?”

  “She was going to make us crash, trying to get the door open like that.”

  “I’m just saying she wasn’t acting like Mr. Renzor’s lifer. I think he’s taken her against her will.”

  “That ain’t our business, so you just be quiet about it.”

  “Yeah, but what about that tap from Pep? He said — ”

  “What’s taking so long to find me a drink?” Lawten bellowed.

  “Be right there, sir!” Then he lowered his voice. “Pep was messing with you. How could liberation be in the Lowlands? People would know. Now, let’s get out of here.”

  The enforcers’ footsteps faded as they approached the front of the plane. Mason stayed put. Elyot was still crying, fussing, and kicking his legs with great force for one so small.

  They’d stunned Ciddah. She’d been trying to get to Mason. So she must be in the back seat. He wanted to lean out and see, but he didn’t dare. Lawten’s raised voice in the front of the plane caught his attention.

  “Well, one of you is coming with me. I need help on this flight. Decide now.”

  “I’m off at eight,” the deeper voice said. “I have plans with some of my peers. We’re going night skiing.”

  “I have a shift in the City Hall lobby tonight from six to ten,” the younger enforcer said.

  “You’re both coming,” Lawten said. “Grab a seat and buckle up.”

  “But sir — ?”

  “I don’t want to hear another word out of either of you. Buckle up!”

  Silence gripped the plane. Even Elyot’s crying had softened to whimpers.

  “I’ll shut the door and we’ll be on our way.” This from a new voice.

  Mason wanted to look, but he stayed put. The fact that Ciddah had been stunned was a problem. He didn’t think he could incapacitate both guards and Lawten without her assistance. But if he waited until they were airborne, the odds of escaping would shrink drastically.

  The plane rolled forward, ending Mason’s debate on the subject. He held onto the top of the half wall, but as the plane increased speed, he fell back and landed, sitting, on the bed just below Elyot’s feet. He carefully pulled the curtain across the doorway so that it completely hid the bed from view.

  His body slid back on the bed toward the tail. He lay down beside Elyot and grabbed hold of the seatbelt. The boy had started to cry again. Mason stuck his finger in the baby’s mouth, and the little guy clamped on and began to suck.

  The plane lifted off the ground. It wasn’t like the helicopter. The sensation was similar to the feeling of riding to the top of City Hall in the elevator without stopping.

  He had no doubt that they were headed to Wyoming. But how long did it take to get there? From the Old maps he’d seen, Wyoming had been directly north of Colorado. Planes flew at high speeds. Anywhere from sixty to six hundred miles an hour, depending on the type of aircraft. He had a feeling that the flight wouldn’t last long. An hour, maybe?

  Plenty of time for him to be discovered. And what if he was? Would they kill him? Not likely on an airplane. Planes traveled much higher than helicopters and had pressurized cabins. A gunshot might only create a small leak in the hull, but there was also the danger of breaking a window, which could depressurize the cabin in seconds. Or the bullet could hit wiring on the instrument panel in the cockpit, or hit the pilot.

  Or it could hit the fuel tank.

  Surely enforcers knew better than to fire a gun on an airplane. They might not even be carrying those dual action pistols. If he were caught in flight, they’d most likely stun him and deal with him later.

  Maybe he should stay put, wait until they landed in Wyoming, and steal Ciddah away when Lawten let down his guard?

&
nbsp; Elyot had fallen asleep, so Mason got down on the floor and peeked out from the curtain. Ciddah was sitting in the chair closest to him. At first glance, she looked to be unconscious, but her eyes shifted, looking up at the ceiling. Her fingers tapped against her legs. Stunned, but quickly recovering.

  In the front of the plane, the enforcers were sitting across from each other at the table, the younger one facing the back of the plane but deep in conversation with his partner. Lawten was in the front seat across the aisle from the table. Mason could barely see the top of his head over the seat.

  What to do?

  There was nothing to do but wait for Ciddah to recover. Right? He looked back to her and met her eyes. She stared at him, no expression on her face at all, which was weird since he was almost positive she must be glad to see him.

  He smiled at her, then slipped back behind the curtain. Better not press his luck. He would wait for her right here. She wasn’t restrained. Once she could move again, she’d let him know. He felt fairly confident that no one would bother him as long as Elyot was sleeping. As it was, the other men had been letting him cry. Clearly they weren’t all that concerned with his care.

  While Mason waited for Ciddah, he thought through as many scenarios as possible to subdue the men. It would be best to divide them. If he and Ciddah tried to face them all at once, they’d be overpowered. But if they could immobilize them one at a time, they might stand a good chance.

  “Hey, little peer. Mr. Renzor says there are blankets in a drawer under the bed back here. You hogging all the blankets?” The curtain shifted and the younger enforcer appeared. Mason was already moving before their gazes met. He swiped the enforcer’s SimScanner, leaned back on the bed, and fired.

  The enforcer grunted and collapsed on the bed. Mason dropped the SimScanner and pulled the enforcer all the way up, fixing the curtain so that it hid the man’s feet. The movement jostled Elyot awake, who shared his displeasure with a wailing cry.

  Mason stuck his finger in Elyot’s mouth and whispered to the enforcer. “I’m sorry I stunned you. Listen, your friend was right. When people are liberated, they’re sent to the Lowlands to task hard labor. But the people down there fought back, got word to Luella Flynn, and she confronted the Safe Lands Guild this afternoon.

  “That’s why Renzor is running. They want to arrest him, so he’s trying to move to Wyoming. And he kidnapped Ms. Rourke and Baby Promise because Wyoming only accepts family units, like Old families. Bringing a lifer and child is the only way he can be allowed to live there. But I’m here to stop him. He needs to answer for his crimes against the Safe Lands. And he can’t take Ms. Rourke against her will. That’s not right.”

  The young enforcer merely stared at Mason. Hopefully that had been information enough to conflict the guy. Mason took his finger out of Elyot’s mouth and brought out the enforcer’s handcuffs. He secured the man’s right hand to a metal ring on the wall that could be used to pull back the curtain, but he couldn’t find anything to gag him with. He hoped the stun lasted long enough for him to finish his task.

  He examined all the weapons on the enforcer’s belt. There was a stunner, the SimScanner, a dual-action pistol, and an expandable baton. Mason removed them all. He checked the dual-action pistol for ammunition, left the sleeper slugs in the gun, but removed the bullets and flipped the action to sleeper mode.

  First, do no harm. No one was dying, if he could help it.

  Mason tucked the SimScanner into the back of his pants and shoved the bullets and the baton into his pocket. He took the stunner in his right hand and the pistol in his left. That way, he could stun the enforcer, but put Lawten to sleep. He wanted Lawten to be out the longest.

  A deep breath and he was ready.

  He peeked out the curtain. Ciddah was still sitting there, staring out the window. Lawten and the other enforcer were in their seats, facing the front of the plane.

  Might as well move as quickly as possible and get this over with.

  He stepped through the curtain. Two more steps and he pressed up against the counter. He made eye contact with Ciddah, whose eyes widened. But she didn’t move her limbs, so she might still be incapacitated.

  Mason stepped out into the main cabin, walking slowly past the seats.

  “Check on the baby while you’re back there, will you?” Lawten yelled.

  Mason froze, gripped the guns tightly, slid his fingers over each trigger. Heat washed over him. Adrenaline. Mason had never been a very good shot, and pistols were harder to shoot. But the entire cabin couldn’t be more than forty feet in length. He just needed to get a good shot at each of them, which meant he’d need to walk right up to them or they needed to be standing.

  “Go see what’s his problem,” Lawten said.

  “Yes, sir.” And the enforcer stood.

  Mason fired the stunner at the enforcer’s back, but the enforcer had been moving, slipping out into the aisle. The cartridge shot past the man’s side and struck the wall.

  “Hey!” The enforcer reached for his own gun, so Mason aimed the pistol and fired. A hit! The enforcer kept coming, though his eyes went wide with shock. He drew his own pistol and Mason knocked it out of his hand. It dropped beside Mason’s foot, so he kicked it back behind him. The enforcer fell to his knees. Mason glanced over his head at Lawten, who was watching the scene over the top of his chair with an expression of hate.

  The feeling was mutual.

  Once the enforcer had passed out, Mason grabbed each weapon from his belt and tossed them back behind him. Then he stepped over the man, heading toward Lawten.

  “No!” Ciddah screamed.

  Mason glanced behind him. Ciddah was holding the enforcer’s pistol and walking toward him. She was taking slow steps, but he couldn’t tell if that was because she was weak or being cautious.

  Mason also had no way of knowing if she had the gun set on sleeper or kill. “Ciddah, put that down.”

  “No, Mason. This is my fight, not yours. I’m going to do this.”

  He walked toward her. “Ciddah,” he whispered. “You can’t fire a gun in an — ”

  She raised the gun at his face. “Mason, look out!”

  He spun around and ducked. Lawten had been coming his way, but the airy pop of the pistol stopped him. Lawten cried out in pain. Then a second shot. A third. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Ciddah was screaming, firing every bullet in the gun. Lawten moaned now. And a strange whistling sound had filled the cabin.

  Mason had to stop her. He saw the enforcer’s stunner under the nearest chair. He reached for it, rolled onto his back, and shot Ciddah.

  The cartridge struck her against her neck. Mason winced and jumped to his knees to catch her. The sound of cracking plastic made him push Ciddah into a chair by the wall and buckle her in. He sat in the chair beside her and buckled himself.

  Then he looked for the damage.

  He could still hear the whistling sound. He and Ciddah were sitting in the chairs at the very back of the plane, the ones facing the back, so it wasn’t easy to see from his position. He looked over his shoulder and up the aisle. The enforcer lay on the floor one seat away. Up by the table, Lawten lay on the floor. Mason could see no blood. Mason spotted a hole in the wall above the first window beside the door. And another one above the second window. That might be the cause of the whistling. He scanned the rest of that wall. Everything looked okay. Then what had made that cracking s — ?

  Crraaack.

  He twisted around and looked between his and Ciddah’s seats at the other wall. A window above the table was splintered like a spider’s web. The fuselage was breaking open. Mason unbuckled himself and lunged for the sleeping enforcer. He dragged the guy down the aisle, pulled the handcuffs off the man’s belt, and cuffed him to the leg of Mason’s chair. Then he ran for Elyot.

  He was halfway back to his seat carrying the baby when the window shattered.

  Mason leapt into his seat, settled Elyot on his lap and buckled them both, cinching the belt as tightl
y as he could. Elyot was screaming, but Mason ignored him and reached over to tighten Ciddah’s belt.

  Besides the shrieking of the wind and Elyot’s anguished cry, at first nothing seemed wrong. Then a beeping alarm started from above and oxygen masks fell from the ceiling. Only two were within his reach, right above their seats. Mason pulled down Ciddah’s and put it over her head, fixing the mask over her mouth and nose. Then he put on his own. He breathed deeply for two breaths, then put the mask over Elyot’s face and held his breath.

  The plane went into a dive, sending Mason hard against the back of his seat. The guns slid across the floor. Then things started to fly past him. Napkins from the kitchen area, fluttering by like a flock of doves. Cans of soda pitched right over his head.

  Mason tried to remain calm. He continued to share his oxygen mask with the baby, but there was nothing more he could do for the enforcers or Lawten.

  When the plane came to a stop on the runway, Mason left the oxygen mask over Elyot’s face and tried the air. It seemed fine. He let go of his mask and checked on Ciddah. She glared at him, which meant she was fine, so he unbuckled himself and stood up, cradling Elyot in the crook of his arm.

  The enforcer on the floor was unconscious, so Mason handed Elyot to Ciddah and pulled his oxygen mask down and put it over the man’s face. He ran into the bedroom and was surprised to see the enforcer there wearing an oxygen mask and fumbling with a key and his handcuffs.

  Maybe Mason should have thought to find the key from his enforcer belt.

  Mason backed out of the bedroom and scanned the floor for a stunner. There were none. Everything had been sucked out the window when the cabin had depressurized. He walked toward the front of the plane and the cockpit door opened.

  The two pilots stepped out. The first man took a step toward the cabin.

  “What happened back here? Why did we lose pressure?” the second pilot asked. “Is anyone hurt?”

  That’s when Mason realized that Lawten Renzor was not on the plane. He crouched and glanced under the table, but no. His gaze went to the window. He walked toward it. Looked out.