by Kevin George
“Hope isn’t something that we should lose, but rather it’s a path that we must choose,” BabyDoll said. “Each of us has a story to live, and this moment is one part. But staying calm and thinking straight will give us the best start.”
James laughed, the sound echoing in the radio room.
“I can’t believe you’re handling this so well,” Sally said, looking up from the floor. “We’re going to be stuck here forever.”
“There was always a chance that’d be the case,” James said. “You’d do well to be optimistic like your little friend.”
He waved Sally and BabyDoll over, and spoke loudly enough for the Swarm outside the door to hear.
“Quinn was right, they only left this one machine and it’ll never be used to speak to anyone,” James said.
“We already know that,” Sally said.
James leaned in closer and smiled. “But talking doesn’t matter. As great as it would’ve been to talk to others, this. . .”—he tapped the small machine—“. . . is the only piece of equipment in this room that allows someone out there to find us. It’s a GPS locator, and as long as power is on in the towers—”
“It is,” BabyDoll said with a high-pitched lilt.
“—it can send a signal with our coordinates to whoever radioed us before. . . as long as they have a way to receive the signal.”
“How do we know they’re still looking for us?” Sally asked.
“Guess there’s only one way to find out,” James said.
He glanced to the radio room door before scurrying around to the back of the machine, finding its power cord that he plugged into the wall. The machine whirred to life, a green light flickering on. James exhaled deeply and pointed to a tiny screen that displayed a simple message: LOCATION READY TO BE SENT.
“We’ll have to be careful to keep this out of the wrong hands,” James said.
He looked up to see several more Aviaries filtering back into the room, some looking on with curiosity, others with fear.
“Quinn’s followers might be gone for now, but they will make it back somehow,” BabyDoll said. “But we must stop them, block them, out we’ll lock them.”
Without being told, several Aviaries left the room and formed a barricade in front of the door. James stared at the machine for nearly a minute before scanning the ground nearby, picking up bigger chunks of broken pieces, hoping—yet doubtful—that something else could be salvaged. BabyDoll and other Aviaries began to clean the room, though they did little more than push scattered junk into darkened corners. Sally continued to stare at the GPS hub, reading the message over and over, hopeful at first but soon wondering if the message would ever change.
It won’t as long as you keep staring at it, she told herself.
Sally no sooner turned to help with cleanup when she spotted a flash on the machine’s screen. Sparks shot out of a broken piece of equipment beside the GPS locator.
“Something’s happening,” Sally said, rushing back to it. “The message changed.”
James looked up from an armful of broken parts, dropped them on the floor before rushing over, joined soon after by BabyDoll and the few brave Aviaries remaining in the room. With everyone crowded around the GPS locator, James sighed and slowly shook his head.
“Are you sure? Looks the same to me,” James said.
Sally blinked hard, shaking her head. “I swear, I saw it flicker and switch to a single word. It must’ve changed back.”
“Do you remember what it said?”
Sally nodded. “It was shorter. . . just a single word,” she said. “Transmitting.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Carli dropped ten feet before landing hard in the snow. A jolt of pain shot down her legs, the snow atop the side of the tilted building not nearly as deep as everywhere else. She grunted and dropped to her knees, sliding several feet before stopping. Carli pushed aside a few inches of snow to see that she’d landed on a solid metallic beam. She barely had a moment to contemplate her luck when she heard a cry of fear and turned to see the blur of Wyatt’s falling form a few feet away. He landed roughly, collapsing to all fours as a cracking noise sounded. He froze, though his head raised just enough so his eyes locked with Carli’s. She didn’t remain still.
Despite her pain, she crawled forward, her knees digging through the snow, feeling the metal beneath her. She stopped inches in front of the glass window beneath Wyatt, stretching out her arm until her fingers barely brushed his arm. She crawled a few inches forward, feeling the metal beneath her give way to glass, hearing the spread of splintering glass. She grabbed Wyatt’s arm and yanked, pulling him toward her before letting go to crawl back. Once back on the metal, she reached out again as an explosion of shattered glass echoed over the howling wind.
Wyatt’s eyes widened and he crawled furiously, but his hands and knees slipped on the slick glass that suddenly disappeared beneath him. The snow around him was sucked into the newly created hole and Wyatt’s body began to do the same. Carli grabbed his hand and pulled, dragging him toward the metal beam, which Wyatt grasped with his free hand. He nearly pulled himself to safety when his backpack started to slip from his other shoulder. Rather than let it fall, he let go of the beam and secured the pack, nearly pulling himself and Carli over in the process.
Carli’s knees slid along the snow, inches from the edge when Wyatt grabbed the beam again. His legs hung over the side and he started to look down.
“Don’t look,” Carli gasped. “Just keep pulling.”
Wyatt nodded and did as he was told, trying to swing his dangling legs up and over the edge. Carli didn’t take her own advice though, looking over Wyatt’s shoulder as she tried to drag him to safety. The drop through the hole was deep and would undoubtedly be deadly. Interrupting the darkness inside were dozens of tiny white dots, which Carli recognized as broken windows she’d seen on the underside of the tilted building, holes leading to the snowy street hundreds of feet below. The sight momentarily paralyzed her, until she felt the tugging of Wyatt’s hand and knew she’d be dragged over the side if she didn’t get him to safety. With a final massive pull, Wyatt cleared the beam and scurried away from immediate danger.
“Maybe jumping wasn’t the smartest idea,” Carli said.
Wyatt chuckled and then heaved. Nothing came out, but only because he hadn’t eaten for hours.
“It was almost worth it to hear you admit I was right about something,” he finally said.
“Like walking into the dangerous section of city?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “We couldn’t have stayed in the building anyway.”
Remembering the shadowy figures chasing them, Carli turned and looked up at the empty window. Nobody had shown up yet, but Carli hurried to her feet, not wanting to stay too close.
“We need to get to the other side,” she said, looking down the sloped side of the building in front of them. She shuffled a few feet forward, slipping along the way, her keen sense of balance the only thing stopping her from falling. “We’ll have to be careful.”
Wyatt nodded and rose to his feet, shuffling across the slick surface until he was beside her. Together, they slid their feet a few inches at a time, the incline growing more perilous with every foot they traveled. It was steeper than Carli expected. They carefully circled more sections of broken glass, more holes that Wyatt insisted upon peering into, hoping they might find a safer place to climb down and find an easier path through the tilted building instead of slipping their way atop it.
“Even if we found a way in, I doubt we’d be able to climb out again,” Carli said as she craned her neck to see through another broken window. “Maybe if—”
A spear zipped between them, disappearing into the hole. Carli and Wyatt recoiled so suddenly that both lost their footing and slipped down, their grunts joined soon after by cracking glass. Instinct told them to get up and run, but Carli and Wyatt looked back to see nearly a dozen figures—fully masked and fully armed—leaping down from the empty window, landing perfectly on the
ir feet. The figures ran toward them with far less self-preservation than Carli and Wyatt had shown, a fact proven when one of them slid into the same hole that had nearly taken Wyatt. The man’s—or woman’s, or whatever it was—scream was loud and high-pitched for a split second before fading to nothingness.
The other figures didn’t slow down or acknowledge the loss of one of their own. They ran toward Carli and Wyatt, slipping along the way but never losing balance, sliding across the slick surface in mostly controlled movements. Within seconds, they’d cut the distance in half. Carli dragged Wyatt to his feet as one of the figures launched another spear. Carli pushed Wyatt aside, the weapon splitting the tight space between them.
“Run!” Carli cried.
They shuffled their feet a little faster than before, but a glance back showed the figures gaining on them. Carli eventually lifted her feet off the slick surface and ran, pushing off as hard as she could, barely able to remain upright. She called out for Wyatt to go faster but didn’t dare look back at him, didn’t dare avert her eyes from the path in front of her. Even with that focus—even with a clear view of the sloped surface in front of her—Carli couldn’t slow down or turn quickly enough when she spotted another hole ahead. She tried to turn her body but lost her balance and fell, her fingers grasping at the slick surface as she continued to slide toward certain doom.
She twisted her body sideways and dug her fingers into the thin snow, trying to propel herself on a different course, not worried for the moment that she was pushing herself toward the edge of the entire building. The hole loomed just ahead and her sideways momentum was slow, but Carli thought she might be able to just avoid it. . .
But she didn’t. Her legs disappeared over the side but she managed to grasp the edge of the empty window frame, her fingers digging painfully into the metallic jamb. She barely hung on. Though she refused to give up, Carli was realistic enough to know her grip wouldn’t last longer than a few seconds. It also didn’t help that a spear narrowly zipped past her head, disappearing into the hole beneath her, crashing down dozens of feet through the empty window beneath her.
Carli tried to pull herself up but didn’t have the strength to bend her arms let alone climb to safety. She was already exhausted from the long journey and pulling Wyatt out of danger, but it was the jetpack strapped to her back that ultimately threatened to drag her down. She considered trying to unstrap it from her shoulders but knew she didn’t have the strength to do that. She looked down at the power button, wondering if she’d be able to let go of the window frame, push the power button and fly to safety without crashing into anything on the way down or back up—
A hand clamped onto her wrist and yanked her over the side. Wyatt’s face was twisted in panic, but he took her hand and carefully guided her around the hole. Behind them, the masked figures were getting closer. Before Wyatt and Carli could build up too much speed, they looked at the bottom of the tilted building and saw more figures climbing their way up, so many that they stretched the entire width and blocked any potential path for escape.
“Where do we go?” Wyatt asked.
Carli kept a tight grip on his hand and shuffled to the side of the building, looking over at the far drop, the snowy streets now teeming with figures. Carli looked from one group to the next, her mind drawing a desperate blank about where to go or what to do. When she turned to Wyatt, she saw his gaze wasn’t on any of the murderous figures but instead on a destination much higher and farther into the city. Wyatt released her hand and shrugged the backpack off his shoulder, forcing the straps between Carli’s arms so it was attached to her front.
“What are you doing?” Carli asked.
“Fly!” Wyatt yelled, pointing to the communication building. “One of us needs to survive!”
Carli shook her head, even as she saw the figures sliding closer, most of them still armed. “I already told you, I’m not going anywhere without—”
“Enough!” Wyatt yelled, taking her by the arm, threatening to push her off the side of the building. “We tried together, but now it can only be one of us. Go before I make you have to fly!”
“Fine!” Carli snapped back, yanking her arm free.
She lowered her goggles and took the jetpack controls in her right hand, her thumb hovering above the power button. With a heavy sigh, she turned to Wyatt and leapt, wrapping her legs around his body and hooking her left arm under his right one. Wyatt stumbled, not expecting Carli’s actions, but he managed to keep them upright. Her legs squeezed tightly around him and he knew what she planned to do. He shook his head but wrapped his arms around her torso, tucking them under the jetpack.
“The pack might not have the power to make it all the way up,” he called out to her. “And if it does, it’ll take hours to recharge. We’d be stuck up there with no other—”
“No choice!” Carli yelled and mashed the button.
Nothing happened. She muttered a few curses and pushed the button over and over.
“What’s wrong?” Wyatt yelled, watching the enemies drawing near.
“It’s been doing this recently,” Carli said through clenched teeth.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“You were always busy,” Carli shot back. “And it always worked after a few seconds.”
“Hasn’t it already been a few seconds?” Wyatt asked. “Plenty of things could be wrong with the thruster, or the power source, or the connection between—”
His next words sucked back into his throat when the jetpack fired and shot them skyward. Wyatt squeezed Carli so tightly that she gasped, but his grip remained firm as they sped across the sky. Wyatt glanced down at several figures throwing spears at them, though the jetpack propelled them out of danger within seconds. Wyatt was surprised how quickly the jetpack accelerated while carrying the weight of two people, but it wasn’t long before the pack sputtered and there was a noticeable decrease in speed. Wyatt doubted they’d remain airborne for long; he also doubted they’d reach their destination, especially since they were veering off to the side.
“Left!” Wyatt called out.
Carli nodded. She’d been so focused on escaping that she’d lost sight of the communications building. She dipped her left shoulder to turn in that direction—as she’d done countless times in the past—but her maneuverability was severely compromised with Wyatt in tow and she flew a much wider path than intended. She pressed the power button as far down as it would go, but they continued to lose altitude and speed. They barely soared as high as the comm building’s roof, which appeared so large but didn’t seem to be getting closer soon enough.
“Just a little farther!” Wyatt yelled. “A little farther!”
“I’m trying!” Carli wheezed.
Neither looked down, knowing they were hundreds of feet above the ground, knowing what a sudden loss of jetpack power would mean. The ledge of the building’s roof loomed ahead. Carli remained so focused on it that she didn’t see the twin blurs of movement circling the far side of the building. Wyatt spotted them, and though he had no doubt they were real, his view only lasted a split second, not nearly long enough to see what they actually were.
“We aren’t going to make it!” Carli cried.
“Just push. . . push!”
“I am!”
The roof was so close they could almost reach out and touch it, but neither had the chance before the jetpack sputtered and shook. They dropped, slowly at first, until the power shut off completely. As they plunged toward the ground, Carli pushed the button over and over. When the engine finally engaged and let off a short burst, Carli leaned all the way forward, shooting them toward the side of the building. She aimed for a partially broken window just as the jetpack died again. They crashed through the window, hitting down hard and skidding across the floor inside, glass spraying around them. Carli and Wyatt remained tangled at first but soon separated, rolling to a stop a few feet apart.
Wyatt scurried to his feet, grimacing as he wiped blood away from
his face. Carli had clearly taken the worst of the crash. Her flight goggles were askew across her face and broken bits of glass littered her hair. With the jetpack still on her back and the GPS pack on her front, she struggled to her knees, nearly losing her balance. Wyatt tried to help her up, but she shook her head. When he insisted, her head snapped in his direction.
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed at him.
Wyatt took a step back. As she slowly stood, the anger on Carli’s face eased. Her eyes filled with regret at the sight of Wyatt’s frown. She opened her mouth to apologize but couldn’t get out the words. She winced as she stretched her shoulders and torso.
“I should probably feel worse than I do,” she muttered. “Never thought I’d be glad to feel numbness from the cold.”
She removed the GPS pack and thrust it into Wyatt’s arms before hobbling toward the broken window. Cold wind and snow swirled in from outside. They looked down at the street below and saw dozens of tiny black dots streaming toward the communication building.
“We don’t have much time,” Carli said.
“Hopefully it won’t be easy for them to get up here,” Wyatt said.
He turned away from the window first, scanning the area for electronics, of which he found none. Wyatt led them out of one room and into a darkened hallway, where Carli forced him to slow down to listen for footsteps. The building was creaky and wind howled through countless broken windows, but they heard no signs of intruders. They rushed through the floor, pushing their way from one junk pile to the next, until locating a small sign on the ceiling that read EXIT.
They climbed the stairwell to the top floor, finding more of the same. Carli wanted to point out that they’d risked their lives for nothing, but the anguish on Wyatt’s face was punishment enough. Carli mentioned finding a place to hide or escape the building before it was too late, but Wyatt shook his head, refusing to look at her, his search growing more frantic by the second. They reached a door at the end of the hallway and found the handle locked. Wyatt kicked at the door over and over, but it wouldn’t budge.