by R. D. Brady
He rubbed his chin, his gaze staying on the map of New City. “It’s dangerous. We’ll need to nail down some of the details, especially about the Fringe cooperators, but once we have that, I think we’re in a good place. We’ll need to get a list of volunteers.”
“I don’t think you’ll lack for volunteers,” Montel said.
“No, I don’t think we will,” Lyla said, “but this is a dangerous mission. No one should volunteer without fully embracing that.”
“When is this going to happen?” Arthur asked.
Lyla scanned the faces at the table. She’d gone into battle with each and every one of them. She trusted each and every one of them. And now she was trusting them with her son’s life. “The day after tomorrow.”
22
The next twenty-four hours were a blur as they’d rushed to get everyone and everything in place for this moment. But they’d managed it. They had traveled during the night to arrive at the edge of New City before dawn.
Now Lyla stood on the hill overlooking the Fringe. Below her, houses were lined up in rows and blocks like they had been in the Before. The sun was just breaking along the horizon over New City in the distance. No one was out on the streets in the Fringe.
In fact, the Fringe looked like an abandoned town. There were no signs of life. No colors dotted windows, no flowers lined windows or pathways. There were no kids playing or dogs barking. The people in the Fringe might not have had to struggle for food or for shelter the way people outside of it did, but they were just existing. They were not living.
Six residents of the Fringe had already joined them at the Gatsby. They had handed over their cards, their uniforms, and the keys to their homes. Lyla had not told them what they were doing. She could not trust them, not yet. But without them, this plan would have been so much harder. Jane and Max had chosen the people of the Fringe they thought would be on their side very carefully. Everyone they had approached had agreed.
It was strange. When she’d first learned of the Fringe, she’d thought that they’d turned on humans. Truth was, humans had turned on them first. Most were older or without families. They’d been unable to find any camps to take them in. The Fringe had not been their first choice—it had been their last.
Arthur gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Everyone’s in place.”
“Thor?”
“He’s at the gate. I saw him this morning.”
Below, the first humans stepped out of their house in their tan uniforms. Without looking around, they headed for New City. Down the street, more people stirred, stepping into the street and heading toward the city gates.
Lyla took a breath. “Then it’s time.”
23
New City towered in front of Lyla. In the early-morning light, it was peaceful. Ahead of her, Arthur reached the gate. Pxedlin had just walked in before him. If Lyla hadn’t been looking closely, she would have missed the subtle gesture between Arthur and Thor.
A few other humans dressed in beige uniforms were lined up at the gate, awaiting entrance. They moved out of the way as Arthur approached. He slipped into the city without any issues. The rest of the humans retook their place in lines, showing Thor their badge as they passed through.
Lyla got into the end of the line with Montel right behind her, the rest of the volunteers lining up with her as well. As she reached Thor, she went through the motions of indicating a badge even though she did not hold one. He raised no alarm, and she slipped through, her heart racing.
Others were going through the same process at other entrances. They had replaced the guards at the gates in three locations. A group would be snuck in, and then they would rendezvous at the landing bay. It would be too conspicuous for all of them to go through one entrance.
Lyla kept her face expressionless as she made her way down the avenue. It wasn’t her first time here, but each time she was shocked at how modern, how clean everything looked. It was as if the Before had never happened. Meanwhile, only a few miles away, people struggled to survive. Here people walked around with a little extra meat on their bones. No one had that gaunt look that she had seen in way too many children’s faces from hunger.
Try as she might, she couldn’t quite tamp down the anger and annoyance she felt for these people who had traded in the lives of children to secure their own safety. She understood how difficult this world was, but that was no excuse for what these people had done. The people at the Fringe at least would not take that last step. They were at the end of their rope, much like Jane had been, but that did not erase their humanity. The people who’d taken up residence in New City, however, had sacrificed their humanity as the cost of admission.
Lyla followed Arthur and Pxedlin as they veered down a street to the right. Montel stayed on Lyla’s left, scanning the area. Lyla spoke quietly. “Less wariness, Montel. We’re supposed to work here. Blend in. You look like you’re ready for a fight.”
He grinned down at her. “I am ready for a fight. But message received.”
In her mind, Lyla followed the map that Jane had given them of New City. They made two more turns, heading toward the outskirts of New City. She’d been here before. The landing bay was right next to the dispensary.
New City, however, was different from the last time she had been here. She noted more and more of the yellow-robed McGoverns. She wasn’t sure what to make of that. But being that they didn’t appear to have any weapons, that was a worry for another day. Although she couldn’t help but wonder what the McGoverns would think if they knew she was the one who had killed one of their own just a few months ago.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Riley turn onto the same street she was on. She met his gaze for a moment but otherwise gave no indication that she saw him. Behind Riley’s group were another three Unwelcome. With the helmets on, it was difficult to make out who they were, but due to Riley’s lack of concern, she assumed they were with them.
A veerfinah flew overhead, its shadow casting across the street. It made no sound, but as it reduced its altitude, she felt the slightest disturbance in the air. The landing bay was just around the corner up ahead. They would get changed in the dispensary. And then the Unwelcome within their group would lead them onto the veerfinah.
Anticipation rolled through Lyla. She wanted to get this started. She needed to see that Miles was okay. A smile crossed her lips as she saw Arthur turn the corner. Just a few more minutes and they would hopefully be on the veerfinah and on their way.
Lyla rounded the corner, Montel at her side, and came to an abrupt stop. Arthur and Pxedlin had stopped as well.
In front of them was a sea of yellow-robed individuals, blocking the road and surrounding the landing bay.
24
Lyla’s mind raced. What was going on? Where had they all come from? Did they somehow know what was going on?
“What do we do?” Montel whispered.
“We keep going.” She continued forward to emphasize her point.
At almost the same time, Pxedlin started forward as well. She must have made the same decision. The yellow robes immediately moved out of the way for Arthur and Pxedlin to pass. Lyla felt a small amount of relief. Perhaps this would not be a problem.
Lyla and Montel reached the group. When they were three feet away, not one of the yellow robes moved out of the way. Lyla frowned, coming to another abrupt halt. She scanned the group. “What is the meaning of this?”
Movement from the back of the group caught her eye as yellow robes shifted to allow someone through. A tall muscular man with a shaved head took position in front of her. “There has been a threat to the Naku. We are making sure that everyone in New City is supposed to be here.”
“Well, we need to get to work, so if you’ll excuse us.” Montel attempted to walk past the man.
The man put out an arm, pushing Montel back. “I need to see your badge.”
“I don’t need to show you anything,” Montel said.
Lyla cringed inwardly as the man smiled.
<
br /> “Take them.”
Three of the yellow robes grabbed for Montel while another moved forward to grab Lyla.
Dammit. Lyla shot out her foot at one of the men trying to grab her, catching him in the hip. He doubled over. Another latched on to her arm, but she shifted, throwing an elbow in his face. Blood burst from his nose.
The muscular man’s smile dropped, replaced by a look of rage. He grabbed for Lyla. She shifted her shoulders back and brought her foot up, landing a soccer kick to his groin. With a cry, he cupped himself and dropped to his knees, tears running down his cheeks. The other yellow robes converged on them. But that wasn’t what concerned Lyla. It was the siren that went off as soon as she made contact with the muscular yellow-robed man.
Yellow robes seemed to appear out of nowhere, sprinting down the street toward them. And they were not alone. Other residents of New City ran toward them, makeshift weapons in their hands.
Lyla knew the mission was officially over. Even if they fought their way to the veerfinah, the likelihood of them actually reaching the ship without being blown out of the sky was nonexistent.
“Abort!” Lyla yelled as her fist made contact with the jaw of an oncoming yellow robe. Lyla fought her way through the yellow robes. There were dozens of them, but they weren’t trained. She missed one man coming in low and took a jab to the ribs. But she reached out and punched him in the throat. His eyes bulged as he crashed to the ground, grabbing his throat.
Person after person appeared, reaching for her. She evaded, diverted, and took down each of them. But the more she fought, the more they seemed to appear. She had to get her people out of here. They were in the middle of some crazed mob at this point.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur and Thor muscling their way through the crowd. Thor grabbed one guy by the front of the shirt and threw him. He landed on five other yellow robes in a heap of legs and arms.
Arthur shoved aside yellow robe after yellow robe, looking like a boat cutting through the surf. He reached Lyla’s side. “What do you want to do?”
For a split second, Lyla contemplated just risking it all and heading for the veerfinah. But she couldn’t take that risk with all these people’s lives. This mission had been a long shot to begin with, but surprise was supposed to be the thing that helped them increase their odds. That was long gone now. “We need to get back to the entrance.”
Arthur nodded, kicking a rushing yellow robe in the chest.
“On me!” Lyla ordered her people as Arthur started creating an escape route through the crowd, with Thor bringing up the rear along with Pxedlin.
Even as they retreated, the yellow robes and the other residents of New City stayed on them. Lyla couldn’t understand it. Each one that came up to any of her people ended up lying in a pool of blood on the ground or crouched over in pain. Yet they all still kept running at them. She’d known the McGoverns were true believers, but seeing that belief in action was beyond disturbing.
They raced down the streets, finally breaking free of the bulk of the crowd. It didn’t take long for her people to put some distance between themselves and the mob. The mob obviously hadn’t been regularly exercising. Ahead, Dax held open the exit gate. He yelled at the other workers waiting there to get out of the way, and they immediately jumped to the side.
Lyla reached the entrance and stepped to the side, waving everyone else through with Arthur leading the way. When the last of her people was through, she sprinted through the opening.
“Close it!” she yelled at Dax.
He slammed the door shut, turning his romag and blasting the lock. Sparks flew, and the workers scattered with cries of fright.
A veerfinah took off from New City. Lyla watched its progress as she sprinted for the trees, knowing it was looking for them. As soon as she slipped into the trees, she stripped off the tan uniform. The rest of her people were doing the same. They left them where they fell and continued to run. They ran for thirty minutes without stopping, hidden by the trees until they reached their fallback position: the bank of a ravine.
As soon as Lyla reached it, she did a head count. She took a deep breath. Everyone was here at least.
Riley stormed over to her. “What the heck was that? How did they know we were coming?”
“I don’t think they did, not specifically, at least. With the Unwelcome on lockdown, I think they took it upon themselves to increase security. I should’ve thought of that.”
Lyla was kicking herself and had been for the last thirty minutes. She should have had someone in New City making sure the way was clear. But they’d thought their main problem would be the Unwelcome, not some ragtag militia group.
Petra pushed her way through the crowd toward Lyla. “What does this mean? Are we still getting Miles?”
Lyla looked up at Arthur, who had removed his helmet. His face held the resignation that she felt within her.
She shook her head. “No. They’ll be waiting for us now. We need to find another way.”
We need to find another way. The words reverberated through Lyla’s mind on the long trip back to the Gatsby. Today had been a complete and utter failure. Lyla couldn’t believe how badly they had botched it. No, how badly she had botched it. In her rush to get to Miles, she hadn’t considered all the variables. In her rush to save him, she had placed all the other people under her command in danger.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Petra wipe at her eyes. Her heart broke a little bit more. She hadn’t been the only one who needed this win. Miles was important to all of them. The more distance they put between themselves and New City, the worse Lyla felt. This was supposed to be her chance to get Miles back. Despair threatened to overwhelm her. This had been their only chance.
Now the Naku would be on the lookout for them. It was possible they would just think that it was some sort of rebellion, but they would still increase security. And although they hadn’t actually been at the landing bay, it wouldn’t take much of a stretch for someone to make the connection.
How am I going to get him back now? She struggled to figure out some other way, but once again her fears for Miles were drowning out any ability to think logically. By the time the Gatsby gates appeared, she was struggling to hide the tremor that had worked its way through her bones.
I’m never going to get him back. I’ve lost him.
25
Cold. That was the first sensation that broke through the dark. Miles shivered, his eyes still closed. He opened them. Smooth glass walls on four sides greeted him. He sat up, not sure what was going on. The last time he’d awoken in one of these chambers it was filled with that strange fluid, tubes attached to his nose for oxygen and tape covering his mouth.
But there was nothing attached to him this time.
And the cylinder was not in the medical suite. It was in the training room. He glanced up at the observation window, but there was no one there. A chill, unrelated to the cold, crawled across his skin. A long tube connected to the bottom of the cylinder and ran to a connection at the wall. He frowned. What was going on?
A small hiss sounded from the bottom of the cylinder. His nerves ratcheted up. That can’t be good.
He jolted back, hitting the side of the cylinder as a liquid began to bubble up from the vent in the floor. He winced as it neared his feet. Then it was touching him. It didn’t burn. There was no chemical smell. He squatted down, touching it. Water, actual water.
He frowned and then stood up quickly as the volume of the water coming through the vent increased. The water level quickly rose past his ankles and then halfway up his calves.
His head jolted up. The top of the cylinder was covered in the same glass as the sides. And if the water level kept rising …
Miles pressed against the sides, but there was no give. He’d read somewhere that glass created in space was stronger than glass created on the planet due to the lack of air bubbles within it.
He prayed this glass had been created on Earth. He slammed
his shoulder into the side but only managed to hurt himself. Kicking out at the other side, he prayed.
No, no, no. It can’t end like this.
The water was now above his waist. Fear, colder than the water surrounding him, rolled down his back. He was going to die.
He glared up at the observation window, but still no one appeared. He frantically scanned each of the large doors to the room, but they remained closed. No one was coming to help him.
And his abilities were nowhere to be seen.
The water was now at the top of his chest. He was going to drown. He stood on his toes as the water reached his mouth and took a breath. Then the water was over his mouth. He treaded water, shifting from side to side, looking for something, anything that would allow him to break free.
There was nothing.
He floated closer to the top of the cylinder. There were only three inches between him and the top of the cylinder. He titled his head back, taking in as much air as he could.
The water reached the top of the cylinder.
Miles floated in the cylinder, his mouth closed tight. Bubbles drifted up from his nose. It was quiet, so very, very quiet, and at the same time, he was screaming in his mind. Let me out! Let me out!
But there was no one to hear him yell, even if he could. His chest began to burn. He bit his lip, trying to keep himself from opening his mouth. He had never wanted to take a breath so much in his life. His whole body felt like it was on fire.
Unbidden, his mouth burst open. Water rushed into his mouth and down his throat. He choked and gasped, but that only made the pain increase. The water burned its way down his throat and into his chest.
Pressure built in his chest and in his head. He felt like he was going to explode. Spots appeared around the edges of his vision, growing larger and larger as the pressure increased.
Lyla, they’re killing me.