by Sarah Noffke
I hike myself up on his back and lean into his ear. “Is that why you’ve been rescuing me all my life?”
“Bingo,” he says, careful as he rounds a corner. An explosion just detonated a block over.
I tighten my arms around his neck. “Now what am I going to do with a broken ankle? Am I going to hop into Vider’s office and throw down my wrath?” I say, feeling helpless as we clear another block. “It feels all wrong.”
“It’s fine, Em,” Zack says, readjusting me on his back. “Just a little farther now.”
And he’s right. We’re a block off the main square. Various Middlings and Rebels dart through the streets ahead of us, making me confident that no bombs lie waiting. And then the assaulting sound of gunshots clears my head of any reason. In front of us a Middling drops. Then a Rebel. They were halfway down the block when bullets ripped through them. Zack and our group freeze. I lean in close to Zack, realizing how vulnerable we are. How deadly our mission is. And my own voice in my head grabs my attention. Owns it. I don’t want to die. Please no. Not yet. Let me free Nona. Please. I don’t want to die. The voice screams and I’m the only one who hears it repeating itself over and over.
Dean turns and looks at us with a sturdy gaze. “So, not that way,” he says, redirecting us down another side street.
“Each path to Government Center is going to be heavily guarded,” I say.
“Especially the one in front of the main entrance,” Zack says. “But what if we sneak in through the basement?”
“There’s a basement?” I say.
“It’s where the cleaning crew enters,” the Middling woman says. “There’s less of a chance of being spotted than if we try and sneak through the open lobby. It’s my vote.”
“But it’s on the opposite side of the bank of elevators,” Zack says.
“My vote is for the stairs anyway. Gives us options,” Dean says.
“And Zack, you’re going to carry me up twenty flights of stairs?” I ask with doubt.
“Or I will,” Dean says with a determined look.
“Fine, let’s go that direction,” I say. We backtrack until we enter a narrow alleyway. From here I can see the large white building, surrounded by angry soldiers. I gulp, allowing real fear to finally enter my brain.
“Pssst…” I hear at my back.
There’s so many noises going off around us that it’s strange that this tiny one echoes over the rest. Beating footsteps. Property being assaulted. Screams. They’re the cacophony of what should possess my attention.
“Pssst…” I hear again. I turn a little in the direction of the sound and Zack makes note of my action at once, wheeling us both around. There huddled in a similarly cramped alleyway across the street, is a group of Rebels. Most of them have bright fierce eyes but one girl looks dreamy, like she’s off in a daze during this battle.
“Will you please take me to them?” I ask, instinctively drawn to the little gang of kids. Zack checks to ensure the street is clear before rushing across the open space.
He pauses in front of the inquisitive girl. Her cheeks are dirty, but her eyes are clear. From my place on Zack’s back I look down at her, but she’s the first to speak. “Are you hurt?” the dazed girl asks, her voice airy and hoarse like that of an old gypsy fortune teller.
“Yes,” I say. “I broke my ankle.”
The girl of around fifteen smiles, looking pleased by my bad fortune. Her teeth are small, her gums wide. She rubs her hands together, pulls up my jeans, and sticks her freezing cold palms on my ankle. I make to jerk my leg back when a refreshing warmth radiates from her hands and through my once throbbing ankle. It isn’t throbbing anymore. A calm serenity suddenly slithers through my body starting at my ankle. The girl’s eyes close and then her head falls forward, her stringy brown hair falling over her face. I’m just about to reach out for her when a deep gargling laugh spills out of her mouth. She draws her face up and seems to look through me.
“What are you laughing at?” Zack asks.
“Because all my life I thought I was a Defect, a mistake,” the girl says. “And now I’ve just healed the person who set me straight. I almost committed suicide the day I was supposed to be converted. But I’m too much of a coward. And then you, Em, told me the truth, gave me a choice, and I’ve never felt more like living. I love how life comes around, intertwines us all.”
I nudge Zack and he lets me slide to the ground. My ankle is firm under my weight. More importantly my lungs feel brand new, my heart no longer palpitating.
“Thank you,” I say to the willowy girl who stands before me.
She bows a bit dramatically. “Now that my job is done I think my friends want to do a job for you.”
She steps to the side and the four bright-eyed kids I saw before stand tall behind her.
“What job do you want to do for me?” I ask, my eyes making contact with each of their faces.
A boy with wiry hair steps forward. “From reading your thoughts, I think you need a diversion,” he says. “We think we can help.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“They’re brilliant little masterminds,” Zack says as we dart between buildings.
“They’re Rebels,” I say, like that explains everything. “How much longer until we’re across from the basement entrance?”
“Not far,” he says, moving on his own in front of me.
“Good, the timing should be perfect,” I say, flipping my head over my shoulder to catch the five kids scaling the back of the sundry shop. They’re using the drainage pipes and the side of a chimney. At least if one of them falls the healer can help them, I think to myself, worried for their safety. Zack and the Middling woman navigate us down another alleyway and toward Government Center. We come to a stop a few yards from where the alleyway ends. We’re across the street from the large white building. We huddle behind a pile of boxes and crates. I squat down low and survey the scene around the main square.
“You were right,” I say to Zack, “the security is light on this side.” Only half a dozen soldiers stand in various areas in the grassy lawn that stretches between the road and back entrance.
“Do you think you have enough stored power?” Zack says, looking back at me, a rebellious look now covering every aspect of his features.
“It’s hard to tell.” I leeched the abilities out of the telepathic boy to build up my reserves. With my body healed I should be able to afford to store and unleash power.
In the main square, two blocks over, I expect to hear mayhem at any second. I expect to hear soldiers screaming. I expect to see the ones in front of us running to help their comrades. I don’t. Instead the overwhelming sound of an engine batters my ears. It’s the loudest noise I would have ever heard before the bomb today. I stand from my squatted position and my confused eyes find Zack’s. His arm hugs around my shoulder, his body pressing me into him with worried tension.
“What is that?” I mouth.
And then we both turn our heads to the trees and bushes and soldiers being swept in a giant wind. It’s radiating from the main square. Did one of the Rebels creating the diversion have the gift to control the wind? We didn’t have a chance to discuss their gifts. They just said that from high up on the roof three of them would create a major diversion using their gifts. But the wind that whips across my face and tangles my hair is too big to be produced by a person. The wind grows in intensity along with a strange beating sound. Unable to stop my curiosity and wanting to be forewarned to the attack I peek my head out. Dean and Zack follow suit.
“What is that?” Zack says, looking as dumbfounded as I feel. A strange pod-like thing with sleigh-like feet and a propeller on top is flying in the air, about to land. Inside it are men. A dozen or more uniformed men. And behind them is another strange flying thing.
More soldiers. Oh shit.
“That…” Dean says, pointing at the machine hovering in the sky, “…is something I haven’t seen in a long time, since Austin Valley appears to b
e a no-fly zone.”
I suddenly remember that Dean had lived outside this Valley for twenty years. He knows a lot about things Zack and I are ignorant of. “What is it?” I say, panic rising in my voice.
“That is a helicopter,” Dean says. “And it’s also the perfect diversion.” He points out and I follow his hand. All the soldiers flanking the back entrance are gone. They’ve hunched over and are running toward their buddies in the helicopter.
“Let’s move,” I say.
We duck from the wind produced by the angry helicopters and sprint for the door. I’ve never been so happy to enter this building, which houses the laws that have scarred this town I love.
***
The stairs to the building’s back entrance lead down into a dark hallway. The Middling woman promptly explains it’s where the custodial crew keep supplies and have breaks and wash various things.
Right, because allowing Middlings to work on a windowed floor would give them ambitious thoughts probably. Can’t have that.
She stops by a set of metal doors. “You can take the stairs,” she says, “but I think the service elevator is a whole lot safer.” She slams her hand over a button to the right of what I realize now are elevator doors.
“Elevators are traps,” Dean says. He and the woman are the only Middlings who accompanied us the rest of the way. We thought it would be safer to move in a smaller group. And I can defend myself now, unlike after my siege on the army.
“Stairwells are traps too,” the woman says, holding her shoulders back and looking straight into Dean’s eyes. She has a spirit which I admire. This is a woman who has seen her fair share of pain and yet hasn’t let it color her practical nature.
“Oh, Patsy, why you have to be so stubborn?” Dean says, a hint of familiarity springing to his tone.
“And why do you have to fail to listen to flawless logic?” she says, tying her arms across her strong chest.
Dean gives her an endearing smile.
“Wait,” I say, my brain piecing everything together. “You’re Patsy? You’re Dean’s wife, aren’t you?”
The woman turns her gaze on me. Nods.
“Why didn’t you say so?” I say to Dean.
“I didn’t want him to,” she answers for him. “I thought that if you knew we were both with you, escorting you to Government Center, that you’d make one of us stay behind.”
“You’re right,” I say, suddenly angry. “You have three kids.”
“And the most dangerous mission is getting you into Government Center. I get that,” Patsy says. “But this is something I can’t miss. After I learned what they did to our baby, stole her life from us, I need to be on this mission. If the President goes down then I want to be here to see it. I want to see the look on that egotistical son of a bitch face when his world is ripped away.”
I consent with a nod. “Well, let’s do this. We can’t waste any more time.”
I step onto the elevator and press the button for the twentieth floor.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The doors of the elevator bounce open when we arrive on the twentieth floor. I brace myself for the attack. The rush of soldiers. The gunfire. Zack and I are flush against one wall, huddled in the corner next to the elevator buttons. Dean and Patsy are doing the same on the other side. We stay hidden and wait for what we all suspect will be a swift attack upon arrival.
Nothing happens. No one invades our elevator with guns. I fear they’re trying to draw us out, away from the metal compartment protecting us now. The doors are just about to close when I make the decision and tuck my hand out to stop them. Then I dare to peek my head out and around the side.
Instantly, a rush of gratitude washes over me. I’m grateful we took the service elevator instead of the main ones. They’ve delivered us to a back hallway, which in all my years visiting this building I never walked through. Even better is that these elevators don’t make the loud “ding” sound when they arrive. The cleaning crew is supposed to be silent and invisible.
“Come on,” I mouth to the group, waving them out of the elevator. The hallway in front of us is unlit, but the corner up ahead has sconces ablaze with warm yellow light. Why light the hallways the Middlings use?
Up until this point we’ve had a plan. We meticulously crafted the strategy for confronting the army, for moving through Austin Valley, and even for getting into Government Center. Maybe we didn’t think we’d make it this far, but for whatever reason we didn’t strategize for what we’d do once we got here. My father always said that those who don’t have the foresight to think through a whole plan will never reach their goals. Most of his adages are wrong. I’m hoping this one is too.
With a vibrating chest I turn the corner. My vision tunnels with anxiety, but I recognize where we are now. The end of this hallway leads to the main foyer of the Presidential wing. I take the lead since I can more easily defend the group with the power I have stored. It’s isn’t much, but that’s a good thing, because it’s also not boiling my insides.
A cursory glance around the corner informs me that two armed guards flank the President’s office. More could be stationed by the elevator at the far end of the hallway. And a quick sweep of the Dream Traveler energies in the area gives me even more information. I sense Zack’s energy, which I know intimately. And I also feel Vider’s energy, so I know he in fact is here. But what I didn’t suspect is that there’s another energy. It’s so familiar, but also not. The harder I try to pinpoint whose it is, the more confused I am by this mystery energy. This leads me to only one assumption. My father must also be here. I gulp, knowing soon I will have to confront the man who scarred me emotionally and whom I scarred physically.
I turn to Zack and hold up two fingers. He nods, knowing I’m referring to the number of guards. Then I step out from my hiding spot and whip my hands in front of me. The guards turn in my direction, hold up their weapons, and as one of them releases a bullet I shoot electricity out of both of my hands. Both bolts connect with their target, just as the bullet connects with the wall behind me. It grazed my arm, ripping through the fabric of my jacket and searing the flesh of my bicep. My hand slaps over the wound immediately, but I keep the scream of pain tucked in my mouth. Zack darts out from his place behind the wall.
“Are you all right?” he asks, pulling my hand off my arm.
I pivot and point at the bullet hole in the wall behind me. “It missed me. Just grazed.”
He’s inspecting my wound when Dean urges him to the side. “Excuse me, sir,” Dean says, all politeness in his voice. And he takes a bandana and ties it around my arm. “That should take the bite out of that injury.”
“Thanks, Dean,” I say, focusing my attention around him. “I think we better get moving. Those two may not be out long.” I indicate the sprawled out soldiers. “Patsy, would you please grab their guns and hide them?” Guns aren’t going to help us and everyone on the team has agreed that disposing of them is the best option.
I’m relieved to see no other soldiers darting from the elevator bank. Maybe those were the only two on this floor.
We’re halfway to the fallen soldiers when on the opposite side of the hallway the silver elevator, much larger than the service ones we used, dings loudly. Dean and Patsy protectively take the spot in front of me. And Zack stands at my side. The doors slide back to reveal a short bald man surrounded by soldiers. It takes my mind a second to register the man’s face. It’s familiar and yet out of place. And then the sight of the soldiers around him in green uniforms, not tan, makes it all click in my mind. I press around Dean and race down the hall. Smith meets me at the entrance of Vider’s office.
“You’re here,” I say, excitement smothering my words. John must have gotten ahold of the right amount of evidence and sent it to Smith.
“Is this your doing?” he says, toeing one of the passed out soldier’s body.
“Yes, but they aren’t dead,” I say in a defensive rush.
“Well, you’v
e saved me the job of disarming them, so thank you,” he says but there’s no gratitude in his voice. I eye the soldiers behind him. Their uniforms match the ones of the men in the helicopter.
“These are your soldiers?” I ask.
“Yes. They are U.S. military,” he says.
“So those were your helicopters?”
Smith gives me an irritated look, but doesn’t answer. “Is Victor in there?”
Again, I sweep the energy of the Dream Travelers in the area and confirm there’s two, Vider’s and the mysterious one, although that one feels farther away now. Vider is definitely in his office.
“Yes,” I say, “but I think my father, Damien Fuller, is on this floor.”
“You think?” he says, looking annoyed.
“One of my gifts is that I sense the energy of Dream Travelers around me.”
He eyes me skeptically. “Very well, I have orders pertaining to both Victor and Damien.”
My father will be arrested… Now that it’s happening I can’t believe it.
“Can I leave you to secure the capture of Victor?” Smith says. “I fear that if I go in there then…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence and he doesn’t need to. I see the fear in his eyes although he’s working to hide it. Smith has seen the aftermath of Vider’s brainwashing on his colleagues and politicians. I’m sure he fears if he goes in there then he will forget why he is here and take his army away without a single question. And he very well might.
“Yes. As we planned and discussed, I have this under control. I’ll take Vider into custody, if you’ll take my father,” I say, feeling confident that I can do what needs to be done. “Be careful when you find my father. His gift is telepathy and he’ll use it to make you irrational. Turn you against your men or even make you doubt your own sanity.”
Smith gives a false smile. “What a childhood you must have had.” He turns at once and the soldiers part, making a path for him. He stalks in the opposite direction. I swivel to face the door, building the confidence I need to confront Vider. I need to take immediate control. I need to do everything necessary to intimidate Vider. I need to make him tell me where Nona is.