by Jessica Gunn
Fog and mist so thick it left water beading on my face filled the air around us. Wind swept through my uniform straight to my bones. I exhaled, watching my breath spiral before me.
Everywhere my gaze traveled, it found rolling hills of green and pasture for miles and miles, except to one side. There, one end held a forest that seemed to part down the middle. A road? Where had General Allen sent us? Or more importantly, when?
“Let’s move out,” said Eric as he surveyed the area. Did he at least know where we were headed now that the Atlantean super soldier had proven too uncooperative?
Uncooperative. A pretty word to mask what we’d done.
A feeling of unease, a pit that slid from the back of my throat to my stomach, settled there and blackened. We’d done a lot of horrible things the past few weeks, but we’d carried out each and every mission without dissent. I wasn’t sure why because, like now, we didn’t think it felt right. But we’d done it anyway.
“Anyone happen to catch our time and location from the super soldier before…?” I couldn’t stomach finishing the sentence. It was by no means the first time I’d watched someone die, or killed someone, but for some reason this time was worse than normal. Maybe because Chelsea was a super soldier, maybe because I still—
No. She’d ended things loud and clear. When I’d told her about the General’s misgivings regarding her band’s popularity, she’d freaked and stated that she wouldn’t choose. She’d said TAO would force her hand, for sure, but I guessed they’d offered a more flexible arrangement.
I’d been glad to know early on where her feelings regarding me lay. But my heart still hadn’t recovered.
Mara shifted her pack as we took off toward the forest. “About five miles east. You’ll know what we’re looking for when we see it.”
I wasn’t convinced following a road was the best idea, but whatever got us to our goal and home fastest was fine by me. “Don’t think you could have been any vaguer if you’d tried,” I said to her.
My cousin had had more meetings with the General than all of us had since SeaSat5’s rescue. She’d said it was because she understood the time-travel stuff the most after Weyland, who’d been summoned back by the Navy. That same sense of unease, of dread, filled me every time she mentioned those meetings, but, like after arriving here, there wasn’t much I could do.
My jaw worked as we walked, my boots sloshing through grass and mud. It wasn’t exactly a full road. The forest enveloped us quickly, eclipsing all thoughts of what Mara knew and what life I might have had if Chelsea had chosen us instead of TAO. But I couldn’t blame her for that. TAO been everything for her and, for whatever it meant, I knew Trevor was part of that everything.
The sun moved overhead, the sunlight peeking through the trees until the forest ended and it beat down onto my head and neck. I dug out the cap in my backpack and straightened it over my eyes. Despite the sun’s appearance, brief as it was there one moment and gone the next, the air never warmed and the fog never lifted. Like something out of a horror movie, the cold and relative lack of civilization rose goose bumps on my arms beneath my jacket. Where were we?
I looked around again. The trees stood tall in the forest, and moss covered both the ground there and on the field where we now walked. Europe? North America?
We crested the top of a rolling hill and I saw it, the landmark Mara had promised we’d recognize immediately.
Wait a second… “Are you serious?” I asked Mara.
“Yeah. Weird to see it fully built, right?”
“Weird” didn’t begin to cover it, and the only other thought that came to mind was that Chelsea would love this. If she’d known we’d eventually come here, I bet she would have chosen differently.
“It’s incredible,” Eric let out, a rare expression of emotion from him. Awe choked his voice. He hid it well, but the history buff side of him had clearly won this battle.
In the distance stood a circular structure, half made of wood and half constructed out of stone pillars dispersed throughout. The wood had thrown me off for a moment, but those stone pillars were one hundred percent recognizable.
Stonehenge. One of the most impressive henges in all of England and certainly the most mysterious. Looked like we’d discovered the answer to the most perplexing question I’d heard about the stone circle. No, it wasn’t made entirely of stone, and no, the pillars weren’t the only part of the structure. The rest we’d have to figure out once we got closer—something that’d probably happen sooner than planned if Eric’s sudden increase in pace was any indication.
I held a hand out to slow him down. “Hey, remember why we’re here.”
His eyes turned down to mine. “I haven’t forgotten.
“Really? You’re rushing off like Indiana Jones.”
Eric sighed and in an instant, the mask of seriousness returned.
We walked in relative silence until only a half mile or so of open fields separated us from Stonehenge. Hopefully, our small numbers would outweigh the fact we hadn’t dressed for the time period at all— whatever this time period was. I wracked my brain for any knowledge I had on Stonehenge, but none contained dates or anything useful.
“Eric, when do you think we are?” If he wanted to freak out about actually going there, he could do so while giving Mara and me some information to go off for this mission.
“Sometime before 1600 B.C.,” Eric said. “That’s when Stonehenge was supposed to have been completed, but everything I’ve ever read said that the original construction was mostly made of stone, so... We’d need an archaeologist or something to be more accurate.”
Which we didn’t have, thanks to the Navy. Thanks to Chelsea ditching us.
My fists clenched over everything left unsaid. Something twisted inside of me. No, she wasn’t not here because of the Navy. It was because she was Atlantean, and Atlanteans couldn’t be trusted, much less cared for. They were the scourge of the world.
My fingernails dug into my palms. I forced them to open and hang at my sides. It was beyond time to let go.
The closer we got to Stonehenge, the slower we moved. The relatively flat plain provided no cover, and without period dress there was no way we’d blend in. Instead, we tucked inside one of the deeper trenches outside the stone circle until nightfall.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the area began to busy with people and their horses and other cattle. Fires were lit in fireplaces outside the wood-covered megalith, preceding songs and other chants. A celebration?
“Oh,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. An Army buddy of mine had once made a big deal about getting back home for some big event in June. He said it was a big hippie thing, but I’d learned later that he’d meant the summer solstice celebration in England. At Stonehenge.
This wasn’t some random celebration; this was a huge event. The crowd grew by the minute and before we knew it, the whole plain was nearly full.
One lone tent had been erected on the outskirts of the crowd, adorned with simple wooden poles and blue flags. The blue flags bore symbols on them that seemed vaguely familiar, as if I’d seen them before but hadn’t paid too close attention.
“We need to be careful,” I told Eric and my cousin. What worried me more was the number of Atlanteans that might be hiding within that tent. Even if just three or four were inside, that’d mean four super soldiers. We’d have to attack them from afar to be sure to dispose of them without arousing too much suspicion.
The case on my back suddenly weighed a thousand pounds.
Buck up. This was not the first time I’d killed in the line of duty—probably wouldn’t be the last time, either.
“Everyone set up,” Eric said. “Clean and quick. Let’s deal with these guys and get out of here. We can’t allow this many Atlanteans to roam free, not with the abilities they have. Or with their access to the Waterstar map.”
Yeah, like the thing we needed to get home. Maybe Mara’s plan for that involved capturing a super soldier
alive?
But as we approached the camp and drew back the flap to the Atlanteans’ tent, guns drawn and trigger fingers ready, I realized it wasn’t just one tent filled with super soldiers.
It was all the tents. Every single person here celebrating the summer solstice was Atlantean.
And they weren’t soldiers. These Atlanteans were refugees, straight from Atlantis itself. Like all those people with powers that Dr. Gordon had studied.
Even as the realization hit, Mara and Eric started firing.
I couldn’t stop my first bullet from striking the child in my sights.
Only blood remained when we were finished.
Blood of Atlanteans who couldn’t interfere with Lemuria or TruGates or the White City ever again.
General Allen would be proud.
The Present
I screamed and screamed, crying out as the boy tortured my mind. As he made me relive that god-awful night. Bile drowned my throat, coursed up through my mouth and past my lips. I dry-heaved as my stomach muscles seized.
“Stop, please,” I pleaded, crying. “Make it stop. Please make it end.”
“Hold,” Charon told her boy.
“Did you get what you wanted?” I asked. “What could you possibly need from me about that night?”
Charon edged closer to the light cage and peered in at me. “You committed those atrocities?”
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the light wall, tolerating the pain the action produced, but only because it somehow provided clarity with which to think. “Yes. I didn’t have a choice. We were all under General Allen’s control. I—I’d never do that. Ever. For any reason, under no one’s orders.” Especially to children.
I’d killed that child.
My fist tightened and I slammed it against my lips. God. I’d killed children!
I was a monster, and if that was what Charon had set out to prove, she’d succeeded.
“He was trying to eliminate the super soldiers in that group, to disrupt their lineage,” Charon said as she stepped away from the cage.
“I guess,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know.” I didn’t care. I’d never forgive myself, brainwashing or no. Not ever.
Charon’s mouth formed a thin, disgusted-looking line. “The monster must be stopped.”
My words were barely loud enough to be heard. “I think we can agree on that.”
But even if General Allen died, I’d never erase that bloody, gruesome memory from my mind.
Chapter Twenty-One
CHELSEA
“The only problem with this plan is that we don’t have a Return Piece,” Valerie said. We’d confirmed the path to the prison they’d imprisoned Josh and Major Pike in. But even if we got there, we couldn’t get back home right now. “Which is why you’ve all been stuck here to begin with.”
“If you’re able to get into the monastery, that might not be a problem,” Ezra said, leaning over the fire and rubbing his hands together. I’d been cold for so long, I thought it was normal. Guess the jungle didn’t often get this cool, even in caves.
“What’s there?” Sophia asked before I could. Not like I’d be able to work a time-travel anyway, or see the Link Piece for what it was. Sadness washed over me at the thought. I’d spent so long wishing I’d never had powers, only to be confronted with a future without them—and it sucked.
“Plenty of artifacts,” said Kara. “But these people have the ability to manufacture Link Pieces, like Atlantis had tried doing without much success.”
Dr. Hill, who’d been relatively quiet this entire time, leaned into the conversation. “Yes, we’ve seen that before. Both in the ruins of the city, resulting in Trevor’s bout with the plague, and again in that warehouse where Chelsea found a red-hued Link Piece.”
A shudder scuttled down my spine. It’d been incredibly unsettling. I’d gotten so used to only seeing Link Pieces in that cobalt mirage that seeing one surrounded in red like a huge, neon warning sign had scared me half to death. “What about Germay, remember her? That mission where we ended up way in the future?”
Sophia nodded. “She was trying to use you and Trevor to make a Link Piece.” Her eyes lit up. “She’s from the city. That might have actually been the White City’s future.”
The weight of that strangled the cave’s atmosphere.
“So we find something that can be a Link Piece.” I tugged at my vest and pulled out my field journal and a pen. “Either of these will do. I’ll draw a picture if I have to. Then all we need to do is find one of those manufacturing machines, pick a memory, maybe give some of our blood like when we saved SeaSat5, and bing-bang-boom, we’re home.”
Weyland reached over and took the journal and pen from me, slowly easing back. I narrowed my eyes at him. His own expression softened. “I’ve got this one, Chelsea.”
Also read as: You’re not a super soldier anymore, remember?
I frowned but let him have the journal anyway. He wasn’t wrong, and it stung like hell.
As the others talked over the finer details of our plan, which seemed way too easy if you asked me, I watched Weyland start sketching. I had no idea he could draw. I guessed I didn’t really know him that well at all. His art was simple, an etching of home, of SeaSat5 from the outside—a view we so rarely had for the amount of time spent inside the station. It was beautiful.
We waited until the sun set the next day before moving on our plan. Twilight brought with it a sense that we’d only get one shot at this. If Kara was wrong, and anyone was in the throne room, she’d be unable to tell Ezra not to come. We’d be caught and that’d be the end. If we didn’t move fast enough, the guards and soldiers would catch up. And even if we made it to the monastery unchallenged, we’d still have to fight the priests guarding the Lifestone.
Regardless of the hindered path ahead, if we didn’t have a Return Piece, if either Sophia or Weyland somehow died before we could use it, the rest of us didn’t have a shot of getting home.
Kara had left her son in another woman’s care when she’d left for the White City’s palace. I’d held him before we’d left, watching him for her. He reminded me of my younger cousins. I’d babysat them a lot when they were kids, and the youngest when she was a toddler. I didn’t realize the power I’d had at that point, how much responsibility I’d been given. I felt the same way now as we made our way out of the cave and into the forest. If we failed, Kara and Ezra’s son would never know the future; even a future hiding here was better than having none at all.
I swallowed down every emotion that didn’t drive this promise to get that child back to our place-time. Fear, guilt, worry about what Trevor was doing and where he was—none of it mattered right now. That boy was the only thing that did.
The jungle air chilled without the sun’s rays filtering through the canopy of the rainforest. I hugged my uniform jacket tighter around my body, tapping my ribcage to assure myself that my backup pistol was still there. Three days ago I’d spent more time than not searching for my powers, that pull of teleportation or connection to water. I tried less often now, and had gone most of the day without even thinking about it. But as my nerves built and my hands completed a jittery air-guitar dance of my solo from “Lied Again”, I searched again. Nothing. Not even the super soldier part of me rose up in greeting. Was she gone for good?
I steeled myself against the inevitable: I’d have to fight like everybody else without powers, and I could do this. I didn’t have a choice.
Ezra checked the watch on his wrist. “Only another few minutes now.”
“What if Kara’s not in the throne room?” Valerie asked. “What if she got caught or is still on the way?”
Ezra unsheathed his own pistol and unloaded it, checked the weapon over, and reloaded it. “Well, we were going to probably end up fighting anyway, right?” He smirked and for the quickest of moments I saw Trevor in Ezra. In the way his smile crooked to one side, a grin against the odds stacked against us that was so bright,
it outshone every other facial feature.
My eyes watered and I blinked, looking away from them. No time for tears, Danning. You’ve got a job to do.
“Then fight we will,” said Weyland, who bounced on his heels. At least he was ready for action. He had a reason to get home, too. In a few months, he’d be a married man. “Let’s do this.”
Once more, Ezra checked the time and nodded. He held out his hand for us, and one by one we took it, forming a twisted version of a team huddle. I pulled in a deep breath, readying myself, and closed my eyes. When I opened them a few seconds later, we were in the throne room of the White City Palace. My skin crawled the moment my brain registered our location, followed by a slow burn.
“Ah, shit.” Weyland rolled the sleeves of his uniform jacket over his elbows. “I feel like I’m on fire.”
“It’s the throne room,” Sophia said. “Like the mission to the future, with Germay. They’ve got one of those power-blocking systems set up. We do not want to get into a fight here.” Even Valerie scratched at her arms.
Kara stood before us in her servant outfit, her jaw clenched. “Hurry,” she said. “We haven’t much time. They moved me in here earlier than usual, at the start of my shift, and they’ll suspect something if I take much longer.” She gestured to the royal’s thrones and rushed us behind them. There, beneath the King’s throne, Kara flicked a switch and whispered a word in another language. A tile fell away from the floor, three feet by three feet, and just below the lip sat a ladder. Kara pointed to the rungs. “It’s supposedly a far drop down, then the tunnel is only one-way. If there’s any sort of resistance, you will hit it.”
“We will,” Ezra corrected, his gaze jumping to his wife’s with a flash of worry and dark realization. “All of us.”
Kara shed a small smile. “No. You go on ahead, and I’ll hold them off for as long as I can.”
“You’ll die,” Valerie pointed out. “I can’t let that happen, not to you.”