“Hands up! We’ll shoot!”
The two sentries had heard our fight. I swore under my breath but raised my hands. Next to me, Ember did the same. She caught my eye, and in the dim light I thought I saw her smirk at me.
“Are you Sentinels?” one of the men asked us. The barrel of his M-16 was pressed into the back of my head.
“They’re women,” his partner pointed out.
“Aren’t you observant,” Isabel said.
I heard the two men turn around.
There was a tremendous flash followed by the distinct sound of a fist meeting flesh. The sentries fell to the ground, and I grabbed one of their weapons. I spun it around and slammed the butt of the weapon into the side of the first sentry’s head, and then the second. When they were still, I hastily unloaded the magazine and scattered the bullets inside the ashy ruins of a nearby building.
The four of us ran to the large husk of the main building and found the heavy metal trap door that led to the root cellar. I breathed a silent thanks to the sky that the lock was neither combination nor key, but a simple bolt and nut.
Men shouted in the distance. “They’re in the main building!”
Bullets began to fly around us.
“Stop them!”
“They’re letting the slaves out!”
Ember, Isabel, and Marco laid on the ground while I fumbled with the bolt and nut. I was on my hands and knees, shaking from adrenaline and anticipation.
“Sentinels are coming,” Ember gasped. “I called them.”
A bullet whizzed past my head, ruffling my hair.
I finished unwinding the wing nut and threw it, then grabbed the bolt.
“Stop her!”
I tossed the bolt aside and threw open the trap door.
39
The slaves quickly overwhelmed the remaining Westerners.
As much as I wanted to aid in the fighting, I realized that I would be of little help in the melee. The four of us were pushed to the edges of the compound, where we clambered through the hole in which we’d entered. When we were certain that we weren’t at risk of being ambushed, we peered through the hole and watched the violence.
Years of pent-up anger and oppression poured forth from the dozens of captives.
The Sentinels could not stop the men, women, teenagers, and even a few elderly people as they stormed through the twisted wreckage, trampling and killing their former oppressors.
As we watched, a teenage boy dressed in rags beat a man to death with a rock. Terrified screams and pleas for mercy filled the twilight air, mixing with the shouts from the Sentinels for the Westerners to surrender. There were no more gunshots, only the yells of anger and fear, not unlike the night Benjamin and Isabel had disappeared.
There was little we could do. I did not wish to send any of my team into the compound. Ember and I could not fight, Marco was out of power and tired on top of it, Benjamin was less skilled than Marco and needed elsewhere, and Reid was still guarding Beau and Will.
All we could do was watch as the Westerners reaped the whirlwind.
In the distance, partially concealed behind the shell of a building, a young slave fought tooth and nail with a Westerner. The young man lost his footing and fell, at which point his foe reached down and twisted the young man’s neck, breaking it. I was grateful that I could not hear the snap.
The Westerners, who now numbered only in the teens, surrendered within ten minutes.
One by one they fell to the ground and raised their hands, calling for mercy. The remaining Sentinels swarmed the compound with their weapons up, ordering the few survivors to kneel with their hands on their heads and cross their ankles. A few Sentinels had to order the freed slaves to stand back and not attack.
I put a hand on Ember’s shoulder. “Go find Dean. I need you to listen to the people who surrendered and make sure they’re not planning escape or an attack, and then we’re going to find the women and children.”
Isabel cleared her throat. “I can take you to them.”
“Then lead the way, Chameleon. That’ll be your codename.”
“Oh, hell no,” Marco muttered.
I caught Marco’s eye and gave him a soft smile. “Let her have her moment.”
Marco relaxed and nodded. Isabel let out a nervous giggle, then we all climbed through the hole in the wall once more.
Ember sprinted toward Dean, who was standing at the far end of the main street. Isabel took Marco and me by the hand and led us down a smaller peripheral street that ended in a set of large metal double doors set into the ground.
As we hurried down the street, we passed the glassy-eyed corpse of Jonathan, the Sentinel who’d told us about Graham’s treachery. A few feet from him, Judd’s body lay spread out over a large piece of concrete. I took a moment to close Jonathan’s eyes and move Judd’s body to a more dignified position. As I crossed Judd’s arms, a murmured whisper of forgiveness escaped my lips.
When I was done, Marco, Isabel, and I ran to the shelter where the women and children were hiding.
Marco moved to open the doors, but I held up a hand. “Let me do this.” I lowered my voice. “Isabel, I need you to be invisible behind me.”
He stood back, and I hauled open the doors with a grunt of effort. They opened to reveal an earthen stairwell, at the bottom of which I heard frightened shrieks and cries.
I calmly walked down the stairs into the dim subterranean room, little swirls of dust rising up with every step. I didn’t turn around, but I trusted that Isabel was there. When I reached the bottom, my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Women and children were huddled around the edges of the room, many in their pajamas. A tiny girl clutched a doll to her chest, then burst into terrified sobs.
One of the women, who appeared to be not much older than me, approached me with hard caution. “What happened? Are you a Sentinel?”
I straightened and looked her in the eye. “I’m not a Sentinel,” I said loudly, though I did not take my eyes off the woman. “I’m a superhero. My team is in the compound with the Sentinels. Your men have surrendered to them.”
Several of the women began to weep. The young woman’s face hardened. “And what will happen to us, superhero? We’ve heard about what they do to survivors.”
I put my hands on my hips. “You’ve been lied to. I’m going to make sure you’re treated with dignity and respect. The Sentinels have better things to do than torment you, like go home to their own families and live their lives.” A few women exchanged confused glances. “However, you’re all going to have to cooperate. If you consider fighting back or causing trouble, not only will I know beforehand that you’re planning it,” I said, tapping my temple, “but I will have no qualms when one of the Sentinels actually does shoot you. If you attack me or one of my teammates, I will personally kill you. These are the terms, do you understand? Surrender or face the consequences.”
“We’re not soldiers,” a mother insisted. “We’re women and children. We’re not dangerous.”
I gave her my iciest glare. “I’m not a soldier, either. But I think you’ll find that I’m one of the most dangerous people you’ll ever have the misfortune to meet. I dare you to put that to the test.” I turned around and began walking up the stairs.
“And what’s your name, superhero?” the young woman asked with a sneer. “Who should we say treated us so well?”
I looked over my shoulder. “My name is Battlecry. I’m the woman who pissed everyone off.”
I walked up the stairs into the sunrise.
40
As the women and children climbed out of the shelter and lined up in lines and rows to be counted and identified, I hurried to find Ember, so she could listen in on their thoughts. Marco and Isabel stayed behind to supervise the Sentinels, whose presence made several of the women visibly panicked. Ember was standing next to Dean in another corner of the compound.
As I neared, however, I saw that I’d been wrong—the man was in fact John Carl, one of the
Sentinels who’d loaded Marco into the truck at the sorting station when we’d first met them.
John Carl saw me approach and beckoned me over. “We need your help,” he said, urgently. “Several men are missing.”
“Who?” Cold worry sloshed in my stomach.
“Dean, Judd, Jonathan, Ken, Gabe, and Gregory.”
I covered my mouth, momentarily overcome by emotion. “Judd and Jonathan are dead,” I said finally. “Their bodies are near the storm shelter where the women and children were.”
John Carl’s brown eyes, the only visible part of his face, conveyed his sadness. “Oh. Did you see any of the others?”
“No. Ember and I will find them. Where’s Benjamin?”
“Doc is looking for survivors already, over on the north side.” He pointed with his pen to the far side of the compound.
I thanked John Carl and we began to work our way through the destroyed settlement, keeping an eye out for survivors or corpses.
When we were halfway through the compound, Ember grabbed my hand. “It’s Dean.”
She was staring to her right at a collapsed building. We moved at the same time, grabbing beams and still-hot pieces of wood in unison and shoving them aside. The form of a man took shape in the charcoal and splinters.
Dean was lying on his stomach under a heavy piece of wood, unconscious and horribly still. With strength I didn’t know I had, I lifted the final beam with a yell and let it crash to the side. I gently turned him over and gasped. “I’ll get Benjamin,” Ember said quietly.
Dean’s handsome face had been burned nearly beyond recognition. His once pale, slightly weathered skin was now red, black, and oozing. Much of his thick black hair was gone. The horrible stench of burned flesh emanated from him.
As I looked down at the formerly-handsome man whom I’d once considered a relationship with, tears began to fall. But why was I crying? Benjamin could heal him in an instant. His hair would take a while to grow back, but his face would go back to be the same lovely face as before.
There was a slight puff of air. Benjamin was there.
He kneeled next to me, his forehead wrinkled in deep concern. “There’s no need to cry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’ll heal him.” He pressed his fingertips to Dean’s ruined forehead.
Like always, the splotchy red and black burns melted away to smooth skin. The oozing merely left behind yellowish, flaky residue. Dean inhaled, frowned, and then groaned.
“Hi, Dean,” I said, my high voice breaking.
Benjamin’s eyes flickered up at me, sadness lingering in them.
Dean opened his eyes. “Hi, you,” he croaked. He grinned, but the effect was slightly different from the lack of piercings, which I assumed had been lost when he’d been burned. He turned his head slightly and saw Benjamin, whose face had gone blank. “Thanks, Ben. I really owe you one.”
“No problem,” Benjamin replied in a tight voice.
I helped Dean sit up, then gave him my stocking cap. “You need this more than I do right now. Don’t look in a mirror for a while, okay?”
Dean put on the cap and gave me a wide grin. “Glad to see you still look as great as ever.” He stood up and dusted off his uniform. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go see who’s alive. I assume we won?” He craned his neck and looked around. “We’re not being paraded through the streets, I mean.”
“We won. John Carl is over there. We’re looking for survivors.”
He nodded once at Benjamin and me, then rushed off.
I turned to ask Ember where we should go next, but she’d moved away from Benjamin and me to the other side of the road. She caught my eye and gave a significant look at Benjamin, who was standing with his hands in his pockets. There was a certain hardness to his expression.
“What’s wrong?” I already knew the answer, though.
Benjamin wouldn’t look me in the eye. “You were so upset about Dean.”
I sighed. I didn’t want to have this conversation here, but it seemed like I was going to have to whether or not I liked it. “Yes, I was.”
Benjamin kicked a pebble. “What do you see in him? I know you said there was nothing going on between you, but—”
“Benjamin, please look at me.”
He did.
I took a deep breath. “When I said that there was nothing going on between Dean and me, I meant it. When I said that I only wanted to know the truth about your past, I meant it. You need to start trusting me.” I took one of his hands out of his pocket. “Yes, I was upset that Dean had gotten hurt because...”
My words failed me as a great pain encompassed my chest. I cleared my throat. “Because, for a little while, Dean filled the role in my life that you weren’t. So yes, I feel some affection for him. But I still married you.”
As I spoke, guilt blew through me. Now that the dust had settled, figuratively and literally, it occurred to me that I’d never asked Benjamin whether he’d wanted to marry me.
In the heat of the moment I’d bound our hands and promised myself to him, but what if he’d never wanted that from me? What if he’d been so moved by my grand display that he’d simply gone along with it, relieved that I wasn’t going to call the feds?
On top of all that, we were young. Twenty-one was hardly an unusual marriage age in the camps, but what if Benjamin thought I’d stolen his wild youth from him? I knew the civilian phrase “ball and chain.” Did he now think of himself as imprisoned by, and to, me?
I cleared my throat again. “However, if… if you don’t want to be married to me, I’m willing to, well, pretend that it didn’t happen. There weren’t any witnesses, so I’m not really sure it was a real marriage.”
Benjamin’s face went from morose to shocked. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, I never asked you, and we are pretty young, I guess. And half of the drama of our recent life has been about people coercing us into situations.”
“And the other half was…?”
“Superhero politics and militia crap. But that’s not the point. Do you want to be married or not?” The words came out more annoyed than anything else.
His eyes darted toward Dean in the distance. “There was really nothing between you?”
I couldn’t be angry at him for doubting me, because I had kissed Dean, who was clearly holding a torch for me. “Dean will get over his crush. On my part, I kissed him because I was upset at you and just wanted some comfort. I never encouraged him until that moment. I don’t know what to say beyond that, except that I made a mistake I won’t make again, I’m sorry, and I love you. I want to be married to you, but only if you want to be married to me. And if we’re going to be married, I need you to trust me.”
There was a beat, and then Benjamin swept me into a deep kiss. After he broke away, he said, “Marry me?”
Ember threw a piece of charcoal at our heads from across the road. “Really? Here? Now? Everyone already thinks you’re married anyway. Shut the hell up and start looking for survivors.”
After an amused exchanged glance, we rejoined Ember in the search.
We quickly found Gregory, alive and furious, under more wreckage. Over the next hour, we located and found the rest of the injured Sentinels.
While I cleared away wood and burnt furniture, a fluffy, orange-bottomed songbird fluttered overhead, then landed delicately on a piece of charred wood near me. I paused in my labors, studying the bird as it studied me. It looked familiar.
I finally remembered where I’d seen it: on the wall at Baltimore-Washington International Airport.
A Baltimore oriole in the Rockies? How odd.
I quirked my eyebrow at the pretty little bird. “Aren’t you a little far from home? Though I guess I’m not one to talk, since I’m from Georgia.” I took a swig from my canteen and waved my hand at it. “Go back to Maryland, puffball. You don’t belong with us superheroes.”
The bird didn’t fly away… but it did turn its head and looked at Benjamin, who was working across
the street.
I frowned. “Wh—”
It took flight.
I shrugged and went back to work.
41
One by one we laid the bodies of the fallen Sentinels onto white sheets.
Ken, one of the men who’d escaped slavery with Dean, had been shot in the initial assault on the compound. I’d tripped over his body while I’d rushed to aid Ember. Gabe Spivak and three others had been killed by a collapsing building. Bobby, Judd, and Jonathan, we surmised, had been killed during the main battle while I’d fought the locust woman and Alysia. Antonio had been the slave whose neck had been snapped by the Westerner.
Gregory found his body.
I could only watch as my brother fell to his knees and screamed in despair when he discovered his best friend’s remains. All heads turned and stared as he picked up Antonio’s corpse and wept, unashamed of his emotions. Gregory carried the body to the long line of the dead and placed it, with great tenderness, on a sheet, crying all the while.
I kneeled down opposite him and gazed at Antonio’s face. He looked peaceful in a way he never had in life.
Gregory bowed his face to the ground. “My brother,” he groaned. “He was my brother.”
Marco kneeled next to me. “I’m so sorry, Greg.”
Gregory jerked his head up, his bloodshot eyes full of rage. “I don’t want your ‘sorry’. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”
Marco simply watched Gregory mourn for a minute. “I know how you feel,” he said softly.
Gregory laughed mirthlessly. “How could you possibly know how I feel? Tell me about the time one of your precious superhero teammates died in battle, Helios. Or should it be Apollo? Because what you guys do is just a game. This is the real world.”
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