by Aaron Hodges
Finally, Maria led Liz into the dining room and waved towards the table. Liz eyed Maria before taking her place, still uncomfortable in the woman’s presence. Putting her hands in the pockets of her jacket, she waited as Chris’s grandmother sat across from her.
“You loved him,” Maria said abruptly.
Liz jumped at the pronouncement, her mouth falling open, then snapping closed again. She shivered, seeing the sadness in the crinkles around the old woman’s face, the downward turn of her lips.
Slowly, Liz nodded. “I did.”
“I’m glad he had someone, before…” Maria’s voice cracked.
Liz licked her lips, lost for words, but the old woman only smiled. Her eyes shimmered, but no tears fell.
“It seems my family is destined for heartbreak,” Maria murmured. “First my husband, then Chris’s father, now Chris. Anyone would think we were cursed.”
“I don’t think that, Maria,” Liz murmured. “If Chris…dying…is anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
“No.” Liz looked up at the sharpness to Maria’s tone. The old woman’s tears had vanished and her eyes were hard now. “You cannot blame yourself, Liz. It was that spiteful woman who took my grandson from us, not you. Your only crime was loving him.”
Despite herself, Liz grinned at the old woman’s fierceness. “Crime?”
Maria waved a hand. “An old expression, my dear.” She sighed. “I just mean, I can see the truth. You feel you need to be punished for losing him. It’s not true. You’re a brave girl, but that’s not your burden to bear, Liz.”
Liz’s own vision blurred. “We should never have gone there,” she murmured, staring at the striped grain of the wooden table.
“I am as much to blame for that as anyone,” Maria replied. “I was afraid of what Chris had become, of what you all had become. I should have accepted you, rather than set off, searching for a cure.”
“I wanted it as much as you,” Liz whispered. “I goaded Chris to act…”
“And you were right. We couldn’t just keep standing around with our hands in our pockets. Someone had to shock us out of our reverie. The longer this fight goes on, the more time they have to crush us.”
Liz toyed with the thumb drive in her pocket before looking up at Maria. “Then why are we delaying now? Why not force the doctor to tell us where she’s hiding?”
Maria leaned back in her chair. “If that’s what you truly want to do, Liz, I won’t stop you.”
Liz looked away, unable to meet Maria’s gaze. She remembered the soldier in the alleyway, the one who had died screaming in her hands, and bit her lip. “What I want doesn’t matter,” she answered. “It’s what’s necessary.”
“And what about Chris?” Maria countered. “Would he want you to do this?”
“Doesn’t really matter now, does it?” Liz said, standing suddenly, her lips pulled back in a snarl. “He’s gone.”
“Maybe, but…”
Liz raised a hand before Maria could finish, her eyes drawn to something outside the window. The old woman trailed off as Liz stared out into the darkness. The girl held her breath, waiting. Her ears twitched at an unfamiliar sound. She frowned. Was Sam back already?
“What is it?” Maria asked.
Outside, a sudden flash lit the front yard. Liz spun on her heel as the first bullet shattered the window and went shrieking through the room. Diving, she tackled Maria from her chair and they slammed into the kitchen table. It splintered like paper and they went crashing to the linoleum floor.
Then the whole world turned to thunder.
The outside wall exploded into pieces as bullets sliced their way through, hammering into the kitchen furniture. The hiss of their passage was deafening, amplified by the crash of breaking glass and splintering wood. On the other side of the room, the high caliber rounds made short work of the drywall, tearing their way into the hallway beyond.
Liz caught a glimpse of a man standing in the entrance to the hall. His body jerked as blood blossomed from his chest. Eyes wide, he lifted a hand to the wound, before two more bullets sent him tumbling back.
Clenching her eyes shut, Liz pressed Maria flat against the floorboards and spread her wings to shield them from the flying splinters and glass. There was nothing she could do about the bullets, but most seemed to be aimed at chest height. Helpless, she waited for a break in the fire.
When it came, Liz leapt to her feet, dragging Maria with her. They stumbled across the room, Liz cursing as broken glass cut her bare feet.
Half-carrying Maria down the hallway, she staggered towards the back door. They stumbled over a bullet-ridden body, then another. Dust drifted in the air as the only remaining lightbulb dangled from its cord, sending light scattering across the hallway. Liz had counted five bodies by the time they reached the corner of the corridor. There was no sign of Mira or Jasmine. She prayed they were in the treehouse.
Reaching the corner, Liz glanced back, her ears picking up the slightest rustle of clothing. She squinted through the dust, wondering if someone had survived. The crunch of breaking glass followed. This time she recognized the familiar tread of combat boots. Cursing, she gathered Maria over her shoulder.
“Wait!” Maria gasped, struggling in her grasp. “The doctor!”
Liz paused with sudden indecision. The back door was just around the corner. It was their only way out now, although what was waiting on the other side, she couldn’t say. Glancing back the way they’d come, she listened for the approaching boots. They had a few seconds yet, but she’d already passed the doctor’s room.
She swore and bounded back down the corridor. Ducking into the doctor’s room, she hunched her shoulders, expecting to be met with gunfire, but the strained silence continued.
Unfortunately, the doctor’s room hadn’t been spared. Holes riddled the walls and dust choked her lungs. Through the broken window, Liz could see flashlights in the garden.
Ducking low, she set Maria down. Her keen eyes swept the gloom and found the body propped up against a set of bunks. His chest had been torn open, but a streak on the floor showed where he had dragged himself from the middle of the room. He wasn’t moving now, though.
“He’s dead, let’s go,” Liz said quickly, but Maria was already up and moving towards the ruined man.
As she knelt beside his body, the doctor coughed. Blood gushed from his chest as something rattled at the back of his throat.
Leaning over, Maria gripped him by the shirt. “Listen to me, Reid.” To Liz’s surprise, her voice was devoid of compassion. “Tell me where she’s hiding.”
The doctor coughed again, his head lolling on his shoulders as Maria shook him. Liz watched, lips pursed, shocked the man was alive at all. With the hole in his chest, that wouldn’t be the case for long. Maria dragged him up, and a half-muffled shriek tore from the man’s throat.
“Where is she?” Maria growled.
The doctor groaned, a long, drawn-out hiss whistling from his throat. For a moment Liz thought he had spoken, but the exhalation went on and on, until it died away to nothing. As the last whisper of breath faded, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped sideways in Maria’s hands.
Maria released him and made her way back to Liz in a half-crouch. Liz raised an eyebrow at the old woman, but Maria shook her head and continued into the hall. She moved confidently now, recovered from the initial shock of the attack, although she kept her eyes carefully averted from the bodies of her friends. Before they reached the corner, she diverted into another room.
“Maria,” Liz hissed, glancing back at the dining room, where the crunch of breaking glass was growing nearer. There was no doubt now—the soldiers were in the house. In seconds they would reach the doorway at the end of the hallway and see them.
A moment later, Maria re-emerged, a handgun in one hand and a spare clip in the other. More shocking still, she had slung the belt of grenades over her shoulder.
Liz raised an eyebrow. “Ah…” Her words deserted her as Maria strode past,
the hint of a smile on her lips.
“Let’s go, Liz,” the old woman whispered.
Moving quickly, they turned the corner in the corridor, taking them out of view from the dining room. The back door loomed, but as Liz reached for the handle, Maria pulled her back.
“Wait,” she said. She took a grenade from the belt and studied it, before handing it to Liz.
Liz hesitated for half a second before accepting the weapon with cautious hands. She swallowed, looking from the grenade to Maria. It looked different from the ones she’d seen in the movies—more like a steel cylinder than the typical ball-shaped grenades. The pin at the top was familiar, though.
“If memory serves, that’s a flash grenade,” Maria said, casting a nervous glance behind them. “If there’s anyone out there watching, they’re probably using night vision goggles. That should blind them long enough for us to get away.”
“And how do we get you away?” Liz asked. If it came to it, she thought she could fly with the old woman, but it would take a long time to get airborne. They would be easy targets.
“There’s a getaway car, one block over,” Maria replied. “We just have to get through the back fence and across the neighboring property. The keys are in the sun visor.”
“Okay.” Liz gripped the grenade tightly in her hand, before nodding to the door. “You open it, I’ll throw.”
“Don’t forget the pin,” Maria whispered as she grasped the door handle.
Liz tore the pin from the grenade as Maria hauled the door open. A shout came from outside, but Liz had already hurled the grenade. Maria dropped to the ground beside Liz as gunshots rang out.
Then a flash of light erupted through the backyard.
Liz had already covered her eyes, but even so, the light burned through her eyelids. Stars danced across her vision when she looked up again, but they quickly faded to shadows.
Outside, someone was screaming, and she grinned at their small victory. There was no time to enjoy it, though. She picked up Maria and slung the old woman over her shoulder. Breath held, half-expecting a dozen bullets to riddle her body, Liz leapt outside.
Silence greeted her.
Struggling to contain her relief, Liz raced across the dewy grass. Maria barely weighed a hundred and twenty pounds—nothing for her enhanced strength, and she was across the backyard in a heartbeat. The tall wooden fence loomed, but Liz didn’t even bother stretching her wings. She bounded forward and sprang, her powerful quads sending her soaring over the seven-foot barrier.
They crashed down on the other side with a squelching thud. Her feet sank slightly into the soft earth, but she pulled herself out and ran on, hardly breaking stride. She felt Maria struggling on her back and heard a half-muffled curse—something about putting her down—but they weren’t clear yet. Liz could carry Maria far faster than the old woman could run.
The lights were off in the neighbor’s house, but Liz recalled from earlier flights that it was occupied. She kept her head low as she raced past the windows, though she doubted anyone would be venturing outside. They could not have missed the gunshots. They’d probably switched off the lights and were huddling somewhere inside, praying that whoever was shooting left them alone.
Too bad they had us for neighbors, Liz thought wryly.
Ducking beneath a low-lying tree, she moved into the bricked courtyard that was the front yard. Free of weeds and moss, the owners obviously took great care to maintain their property. A row of tall oaks trees marked their boundary with the road. Liz rushed towards them, glimpsing the dim sheen of a car beyond their wide trunks.
As she reached the center of the courtyard, the trees seemed to shift, and two soldiers stepped from the shadows. Liz froze, praying they hadn’t seen her. The click of their safeties being released shattered her thin hope. Neither said a word, but both raised their rifles. Weighed down by Maria, trapped out in the open, Liz was too far away to reach them. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes and thought of Chris.
A thud and a thwack followed. Liz’s eyes snapped back open, and she stood gaping as Jasmine and Mira strode towards her, the soldiers now lying slumped on the cobbles. Jasmine grinned and raised an eyebrow.
“You really are getting slack, Liz,” she smirked.
Liz let out a long sigh and smiled back. “Thank you, Jasmin—”
Boom.
The words died in her throat as the gunshot rang through the night. Jasmine’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open. She swayed, her gaze dropping to the blood that blossomed from her chest. Her emerald wings, still extended, trembled as she looked back up at Liz with fear on her face.
Screaming, Mira threw herself at the man on the ground. Barely conscious, he had somehow managed to swing his rifle around and aim it at Jasmine’s back. Mira tore it from his hands before he could fire again and embedded it in his face.
Then Jasmine’s legs gave way, and she was falling, her eyes rolling up into the back of her head.
And Liz was stepping forward to catch her, a single word screaming on repeat in her mind.
No, no, no!
12
Chris shivered as the frigid blast of the air conditioner struck his naked body. Extending his wings, he wrapped himself in their soft embrace. On the other side of the room, Ashley was already doing the same. The white feathers hid her nudity, though he noticed now there were patches on her wings where she had begun to molt. It had been weeks since they’d seen sunlight, since they’d been able to stretch their wings and soar. Their captivity was beginning to take its toll.
The whine of the air conditioner changed, and Chris braced himself for the return of the icy blast. The chain attached to his collar rattled as he moved. Ashley sported an identical chain, a steel leash that ran from her collar to a solid bolt in the floor.
This was how they had slept for weeks—stripped naked and chained like dogs at the foot of the Director’s bed. He could hear the shower now, could see the steam billowing from the ensuite bathroom. It drifted across the room, forming a light fog over the massive king-sized bed. At the sight of the cotton sheets and silk duvet, Chris’s stomach twisted with yearning. He longed for a hot shower and a proper bed, to escape the hard tiles and freezing air conditioner—if only for a night.
The two walls against which he and Ashley leaned were plain white concrete, their surfaces unadorned, but the far wall was taken up by a massive LED screen. There was not a single window in the facility, but the screen almost made up for it. At the moment, it showed the towering trunks and tangled branches of a forest. Brilliant green leaves swayed in the breeze, so detailed that even Chris’s hypersensitive vision could barely tell the difference from reality. As he watched, a brown squirrel darted across the leaf-strewn ground and raced up a tree trunk.
He quickly looked away, wishing he could join the furry forest creature. His gaze settled on Ashley, and he swallowed as her eyes found his. She shifted position and her wings fell away a moment, giving Chris a clear view of her body. The weeks of sparse food and sleepless nights had lessened her, but there was still no denying Ashley’s beauty.
“How could you do it, Chris?” Ashley asked softly.
“I didn’t mean to—” Chris began.
“Not the girl,” Ashley interrupted. “If anything, you did her a favor.”
Chris pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned his head against them. He knew what Ashley was asking. “What else could I have done, Ash?”
“You could have not helped them,” she hissed.
Chris spread his hands. “They were doomed either way.”
Ashley clenched her fists into little balls. “But you know what happens next. How many kids did you just sentence to death, Chris?”
Swallowing, Chris tried to keep the pain from his face. He managed to suck in a breath, trying to stall, but when he looked up, Ashley was still waiting.
“What else could I have done, Ash?” he repeated. “She’s broken me. I can’t fight her anymore. I don’t know w
here you get the courage.”
Ashley turned away at that, and for a minute there was silence. Chris leaned back, listening to the roar of the shower, wondering how much time they had left. Five minutes? Ten? He dreaded what would come next—though he wasn’t the one who would suffer tonight.
“When they caught us, when they had us cornered in that lecture hall, I’d never been so frightened.” Ashley’s whisper carried across the room. “It was Independence Square all over again. I froze on that stage, Chris. All I could think was that my worst fear had come true, that I was going to be caught and thrown back in a cage.” She drew in a breath before continuing: “Then you screamed for my help, and I saw you all fighting for your lives, and I realized it didn’t matter. That I’d already faced the worst they could throw at me and survived.”
“But why did you stay, Ash?” Chris asked, eyes fixed to the floor. His voice broke. “Why didn’t you run? You could have saved yourself.”
“I know,” Ashley replied, “but I couldn’t let him kill you, Chris. As foolish, as hopeless as it was, I couldn’t leave you to fight him alone.”
“And now you’re trapped here with me, suffering your worst nightmare, and somehow you’re the one with the courage to resist her.” Chris’s voice was bitter, filled with self-loathing.
“It’s not courage if you’re not afraid,” Ashley replied. Chris’s brow creased at that but she continued, “I realized something else in that lecture hall. As awful and cruel and tormented as Halt was, it wasn’t those things that terrified me. It was that feeling of being powerless, of being used. So she can torture me all she likes, it won’t make a difference. I will never let them use me like that again, Chris. Never.”
Staring into Ashley’s eyes, Chris frowned. Despite the dim light, they seemed to glow with a light of their own. For a moment, she seemed something else, someone else. Then she blinked, and it was just Ashley again.
“Well, well, well.” The lights brightened as the Director stepped out from the bathroom. “Do I hear my pets talking?”
Pressing his lips firmly closed, Chris shook his head.