Warriors

by Sarah Noffke

  Chapter Thirty

  The agriculture section of Austin Valley sits on an eastern facing hill so the crops capture as much morning sunlight as possible. It’s from the edge of the farm that the best views of the Valley can be seen. From the farm’s location, elevated five hundred feet over Austin Valley, one can clearly see most of the town and specifically the tallest building in the heart. Government Center stands like a tower around the squattier buildings in the main plaza. Its white stone contrasts against the bright colors of the marketplace buildings and the green hills behind it. And from my spot on the ridge beside the farm I know without seeing them that troops are spreading out in the town, swarming to the northeast borders where we will enter. And while the distance makes it too difficult to spy the individual soldiers moving into place, I’m certain that Vider sees us from his perch on the top floor of the Government Center building.

  The line of Middlings stretching out on either side of me is probably grabbing the attention of every Reverian in the city. Never before have a thousand people stood on this ridge shoulder to shoulder and looked down on Austin Valley. People have never had a reason to organize this way or the means to communicate to do so.

  I peek my head out of formation and the sight that winks back at me makes something invisible hit the back of my throat. Middlings flank the ridge, farm tools in their hands as weapons. Behind me rows and rows of people stand at the ready. All prepared to protest the abuse they’ve endured. On my right with his broad shoulders held back is Dean, a look of raw determination written on his face. On my left is Zack, a brutal intensity marking his eyes. He spies me looking up at him and leans over.

  “Don’t leave my side,” he whispers.

  “Never again,” I agree.

  “Let’s do this,” he says and then it’s Zack who takes the first step forward. And he starts the chant that everyone joins in on.

  “No more oppressive rule. No more President Vider!”

  The hill is steep and we are down it before my eyes register the line of tan-uniformed soldiers covering the perimeter of the city. Just as I suspected. A man steps out of line. He wears several stripes around his forearm.

  I halt and like a connected machine the Middlings stop with me. I step out of formation, the crisp winter air whipping across my face. The sun is bright overhead, but I feel none of its warmth.

  “We don’t want trouble,” I say to the commander who stands at least a foot over me. “We want Vider out of office and democracy returned to Austin Valley. Let us pass because there are people in this city who need to be rescued and people who need to be stopped.” All I can think about is Nona, but to save her and Ren I have to capture Vider. He’s the key.

  “I’m under strict orders not to allow you and the Middlings into the nation of Austin Valley,” the commander says, his voice deep, cold.

  It isn’t a nation, I seethe to myself. Another illusion of Vider’s. “We will pass,” I say. “I ask that you stand down so no one gets hurt.”

  “People will obviously be hurt,” the man says. “We will not stand down.”

  “You are aware who I am?” I ask. “And what I’m capable of?”

  “Em Fuller, I’m a Middling. You are powerless against me and my army. You are a weak girl and that is all.” The commander holds up his hand and at his command the soldiers all ready their guns, pointing them at us. There’s a line of fifty soldiers that stretches along our length.

  The commander, with a head full of gray hair, looks strengthened by his army’s show of power. But he fails to notice that the Middlings around me, who now have guns pointed at them, don’t look scared.

  “And,” he continues, his voice swimming with arrogance, “your army surrounding you are all Middlings. I know exactly how your gift works and I know you are powerless in the current company.”

  “Against my preference you’ve made your choice,” I say, my voice echoing over the hills.

  The commander laughs and looks truly entertained by my almost threat.

  “And,” I say, drawing out the word, “the people around me aren’t all Middlings. There’s one Dream Traveler.”

  His laughter halts just as his gaze sweeps the crowd, confusion constricting his features. His eyes land on Zack and he must recognize him but it’s too late. Leeching Zack, I telekinetically rip the automatic weapons out of the soldiers’ hands simultaneously just as I did with the books. But I don’t throw them to the ground. I love books. But I hate guns. The rifles gather in the air like a storm cloud overhead. The soldiers’ eyes all raise to spy the cluster of weapons hovering over their heads and then with a firm intention I throw them on the far side of the empty field, roughly five hundred yards away. And immediately the burning starts in my chest, a fast-moving fire meant to burn me alive from the energy I just leeched from Zack. I glance at him briefly and am relieved to see he doesn’t look too depleted, but does look rather impressed. The soldiers have disassembled slightly. Some are backing up, some stepping into a fighting stance, but most are looking to their commander, who has a fierce look on his face.

  “Last chance,” I say, my breath hot from the fire inside me. “Let us pass.”

  “You may have just taken all our weapons within a few seconds, but I’d rather face your punishment than Vider’s wrath,” he says bluntly.

  “You fail to understand we’re here to take him down,” I say.

  “You fail to understand that that’s impossible. Hold formation, men. Fight with your fists,” the commander orders. Some men pull knives from their belts, others just stand ready.

  And I’ve avoided what I have to do for too long; the fire is making my hairline sweat, turning my skin red from the internal burning. I sweep my arm out and across the crowd of soldiers in front of me, the motion starting on the far left and ending on the right where the last soldier in the line stands. Electricity rips out of my hand. It sprays out in a horizontal line across the row of men, assaulting each in the chest and knocking them down like dominos. In one swift movement I exhausted the huge store of energy and my body instantly cools. No soldier stands. And now a clear path to the city has been made.

  “If you don’t mind me saying this, miss,” Dean says at my side, “I’m not sure what you need us for. You just took down fifty men at once.”

  “Dean, what you just witnessed is not something Zack or I can do again. It could kill us both. I got you into the city, now you get me into Government Center.”

  Dean gives a decisive nod. “You got it.”

  I chance a glance at Zack, whose stoic expression gives nothing away. I know without him saying it that he didn’t like to see what I just did but also agreed it was necessary. I reach out and tug on his shirt sleeve and his expression softens.

  “That was incredibly done, Em,” he says, his voice hushed. His eyes dart to the nearest soldier, whose chest rises and falls although he’s completely incapacitated. “Let’s march,” he says, and we move forward into a city that I soon realize is already a mess of chaos. The war had begun before we even arrived.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Austin Valley, with its perfectly manicured shrubbery and streetlights which are never burned out, tells a new story. The Rebels within the borders have started the fight we came here for. The Middlings we led into the city splay out, disarming soldiers, clearing a path for us and fighting alongside Rebels. Stranger than the idea that I just knocked down fifty men with a single bolt of lightning is the sight that’s being revealed before me. A group of Middlings surrounds Zack and me, ensuring we’re protected from an attack by Vider’s soldiers. But around them I still spy the chaos. Bikes lie in the middle of the street, abandoned by scared Dream Travelers. Windows in houses that sit close to the road are busted out. And the street under my feet is riddled with cracks and buckled in places.

  Soldiers stand in plain view, stationed at every corner. It’s the Rebels who I realize are hiding. I watch as a keen soldier takes aim at us from twenty yards away. I’m just abo
ut to tell my entourage to dash for cover when the ground under the young man’s boots shakes and then cracks, like being assaulted by an earthquake. The soldier falls to his backside and then a branch from the tree overhead crashes down, landing on his body, pinning him in place. It’s then that I spy the Rebel responsible for the attack, a stocky boy. He darts out from behind a different tree, picks up the gun dropped by the soldier, and tosses it into a bush where it disappears at once. The boy turns around and winks at us before darting back to his hiding place. No wonder Vider created Defects. These kids have powerful gifts and the courage to match.

  The Middlings huddle close to Zack and me as we move through a neighborhood where high-up Dream Travelers live. This area is eerily quiet compared to the one we just passed through. Far off I hear gunshots and screams and damage being done. My stomach curdles at the idea of all the violence ensuing here. And if there would have been another way I would have done it. But my main goal is to find Nona and that means drastic actions. Thinking of her locked up somewhere and potentially hurting brings a new confidence to my chest. I have to find her.

  We’ve picked up our pace, moving at a jog when Dean throws up his hand, halting us. In unison we freeze.

  “What is it?” I ask in a whisper that sounds too loud in the silent street.

  “I think there’s a trap,” he says, his eyes scanning, searching.

  “Why would they lay a trap here?” says a woman who stands on the other side of Zack. She’s the only woman who accompanied us. “This is not the direct route to Government Center.”

  “Exactly. Don’t you think the President will expect us to take a less traveled route to avoid resistance?” Dean says, his eyes narrowing to dissect the seemingly innocent landscape in front of us.

  It’s a tree-lined road. Pristine oversized lawns stretch out before brick mansions. The street is empty. Curtains drawn in all the houses.

  A Middling man who’s had the front position since the beginning and looked a bit excited by this whole expedition lets out a long laugh. “Oh, Dean, you’re a farmer, not a special ops agent. Quit pretending like you got a special instinct on these things,” he says.

  Dean shakes his head roughly. “I don’t like it. We should double back.”

  “Why, because things are too quiet?” the man argues.

  “Yes,” Dean says with short finality.

  “That’s ridiculous and this is a waste of time,” the man says. He’s built like Dean, with thick muscles and strong hands. And before I realize it, one of his hands is wrapped around my wrist yanking me forward with a tenacity I can’t fight. “Come on, miss,” he says, “I’ll get you to Government Center. I know a shortcut from here.”

  The man is pulling me, almost dragging my body. Under me, my feet can hardly keep up with how fast we’re moving. Behind me Dean calls out. The others scream their pleas too. But the man isn’t discouraged by their shouting. I can feel the adrenaline radiating off him as he sprints forward. “We’ll be there in no time,” the man says, through panting breaths. And because we’re moving so fast I stumble and roll over my ankle. A demanding pain shoots from the joint. It overwhelms my attention on my next step. I stumble again and it’s enough time for me to catch Zack right behind me. He’s close, racing after us. The man pulls me back to my feet and that’s when I realize there’s something incredibly wrong with my ankle. The overly excited man yanks me forward and each attempt to put weight on my ankle sends heart-stopping pain to my mind. “Come on,” the man yells. And then like a rope in tug-of-war I’m being stretched in two different directions. Someone has ahold of my other wrist and is pulling me back. I turn to see a fierce look on Zack’s face.

  “Let her go,” he says to the man.

  “I’m helping her,” the man says, continuing to half drag me through the streets. And then a competing yank stretches me in the opposite direction. I throw my bodyweight back into Zack in an attempt to help his effort. The man’s sweaty fingers lose their hold on me and Zack and I tumble back from the momentum. I land on him, on the rough road. And the man, having his own momentum, continues to sprint forward. It takes him several seconds to realize he’s let me go and then he’s already quite a few yards away. Over his shoulder he gives me a confused look, like he can’t understand why I’m not racing behind him, even though he’s not pulling me. He slows, his legs winding down from their fast sprint. And then I see the trap.

  “No!” I yell. “Stop!”

  The man brakes his pace too late. Just as he’s turning around to face us his leg bumps the trip wire and the scene before us explodes with fire, rock, and dirt.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Zack pulls me down onto him at once, shielding my head with his arms. My back is on his chest, my body protecting him. Dirt and rock rain down on us as the blast of fire makes mention on our skin. Too fast Zack rolls over, putting me under him. My face almost connects with the road, but I hold myself a safe distance from it, although the explosion is still vibrating the earth under me, making every movement unsteady. It feels like we stay crouched for minutes, but I’m sure it’s only seconds. Zack rolls off me just as Dean arrives with the others, his face wrecked with concern. He’s mouthing something at me and I can’t figure out why. And again he opens his mouth and says something but I can’t hear it. And that’s when the piercing ring detonates in my head. I slam my palm into my ear, like I’m hitting the button to an alarm clock. I spin around to look at Zack and his head is clapped between his hands. Again I assault my ears with my palm and this finally works to quiet the ringing, turning it to a dull hum.

  “Are you all right, miss?” Dean says, pulling me upright.

  As soon as my feet are underneath me I howl out in pain. “My ankle,” I say. But it’s just then that I catch the scene in front of me and forget everything. I’ve never seen an explosion before. I didn’t know how it scorched and wrecked and devastated everything in its wake. Lucky for our proximity to the explosion, it appears to have been a small bomb. But small bombs still kill. I whip around as soon as my eyes land on the pieces of the man’s body, sprayed out in different places along the ten-foot radius of the bomb site. Zack wraps his arms around me at once, allowing me to bury my face into his chest. After a few seconds he pulls back, looks me over.

  “Are you okay? Besides your ankle?” he asks.

  There’s a red scratch down one of his cheeks and several cuts on his neck. I graze my hand along his jaw. “Are you?”

  He nods, a relieved smile on his face.

  “We better head out,” Dean says at our sides. I pull back and look at Dean, who’s scanning the surrounding area. “That bomb will have gotten us some attention.”

  I nod, trusting Dean’s instincts more than ever. “Which way?” I say, careful to keep my eyes off the scene that I know lies just twenty yards away.

  “I think we’re safe to keep moving forward. I don’t suspect they’d have other bombs on this path. That one should have been enough to stop us,” Dean says.

  “It almost did,” I say with a chill.

  “My question for you, miss, is how are you going to walk with that ankle?” the Middling woman says.

  “She’s not,” Zack says, coming to stand in front of me. “Hop on, Em.” Zack offers me his hand over his shoulder.

  “Piggyback ride?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Good idea,” Dean says. “Let’s go.”

  Without a way to argue I hop onto Zack’s back, tying my hands around his neck. It’s been almost a decade since we’ve done this, but back in those days the circumstances were playful and not deadly.

  ***

  Zack, for a Dream Traveler, is strong. As a race Vider discourages strenuous exercise. He’s always proclaimed that the gods preferred Middlings to have the muscles and Dream Travelers to have the brains. He used the gods to strengthen all of his notions. I seriously wonder if they really exist. Maybe there’s only one God or maybe there’s none. Or God is dead or maybe God hasn’t even been born
yet. All I know as I scan the destruction around me is that if a God or gods exist then we need their help now.

  Vider’s forces have been pushed back but that only means they’ll have a stronger hold around Government Center. I have no idea how we can fight that many soldiers again. I won’t dare leech Zack like I did before and storing power once more might scorch my already charred insides. Every breath reminds my lungs that recently fire lived in my body.

  We cut over two streets, trying to make a haphazard path to the center of town. Several areas show the tell-tale signs of being abused by one of those bombs. I quickly avert my eyes from those areas, not wishing to see the singed flesh of a human again.

  “This is silly,” I say to Zack when he starts to pant from the effort of carrying me. A layer of sweat now coats his back but I stay wrapped around him, clinging to him tighter every time I almost see something I’ll want to forget. Too many places are marked by a battle which ensued between a Middling or a Rebel and a soldier.

  “What’s silly?” he says through measured breaths.

  “You shouldn’t be carrying me. We’re too big a target. Too sluggish,” I say.

  He nods. “Can you walk?”

  I roll my ankle and a yelp of pain almost sprints from my mouth. Instead my eyes just bulge with instant alarm.

  “No,” I say with a defeated sigh. The way my ankle remains unresponsive to my attempts to move it makes me certain it’s officially broken. I’d be angry at the Middling who dragged me through the streets if he wasn’t dead. And just the thought of him riddles my skin with a prickling guilt and also a hush of gratitude. I was seconds away from being shredded to bits with him. I squeeze my arms around Zack’s shoulders and nuzzle into him. “Thanks for saving my life back there.”

  He claps a hand over my arms around his neck. “Don’t thank me,” he says, a cold edge in his voice. “I only ever save you because I can’t live without you. My reasons are purely selfish.”