by Kevin George
Love and the little girl raced toward the drone and other flying human, who continued to hold on and flap his wings. The drone tried to fight back and wobbled wildly as it plunged, its weapon firing stray bullets, several of which came close to the three chasing after it. Carli pushed her jetpack to full power, streaking toward the ground, catching up to Love and the little girl seconds later. As several stray bullets zipped within feet of them, Love flapped harder—causing more blood to flow from his wing—and passed in front of the little girl to shield her.
“Quinn!” the little girl screamed, the size and strength of her voice not matching the frailty of her body. “Let go!”
But Quinn didn’t listen, even as the ground rushed up. Love looked over to Carli, his eyes narrowed in the rushing wind.
“Don’t let BabyDoll see this!” he yelled to Carli.
With several powerful flaps, he raced ahead, accelerating quicker than Carli thought possible. His words took a moment to sink into her mind, but Carli turned to the little girl and reached out a hand while easing up on the jetpack. Just when Carli was certain BabyDoll would speed past her and continue toward the ground, the little girl arched her back and slowed, reaching out to take Carli’s hand. Together, the two hovered in place, Carli keeping easy pressure on her power button, BabyDoll fluttering her wings lightly, yet quickly enough so they appeared as a blur to Carli.
“Look away!” Carli called out.
But BabyDoll did no such thing, squeezing Carli’s hand tighter as they watched Love’s frantic—and ultimately fruitless—attempt to stop his friend from driving the drone toward the snowy ground. A moment before Quinn and the drone struck, Quinn glanced up and called out three words, strongly and loudly enough for his voice to reach Love, Carli and BabyDoll an instant before watching him inundated in a ball of flame.
“Destroy the Board!”
Love pulled out of his dive, banking away from the explosion, his mournful squawk joined by a high-pitched cry from the tiny girl soaring beside Carli.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Olly pounded his fists against the door. Angry adrenaline flowed through him, causing him to ignore pain shooting down both of his arms. It wasn’t until the door burst open that his blurred vision cleared and his rage eased. A single guard rushed inside. Olly didn’t have time to consider escape before the butt of a weapon was jabbed toward his face. Olly turned just enough for the metal to glance off the side of his skull, not enough to knock him out but enough to knock him down
“Any more noise and you’ll end up like your friend,” said the human guard, though his voice shook nearly as much as the weapon in his hand did.
They both stared down at the ground, where a bloody trail led from the middle of the room to the hallway beyond.
“Where’s my mother?” Olly snapped, his vision causing the room to spin.
“The fewer questions you ask, the better off things might be for you.”
The guard slowly backed out of the room when a loud crackle was followed by a muffled voice.
“Are you there? Over.”
The guard fumbled for his walkie, nearly dropping it before responding.
“Both drones have been destroyed,” the frantic voice reported. “From the footage we received, there are multiple enemies in the sky and they’ve seemed to join forces with Love. We need to know what might be out there. Find out what the prisoners know.”
The guard’s eyes turned on Olly, his gaze slowly hardening. “Copy that,” he said. “I’ll get back to you.”
Despite Olly’s lingering dizziness—and his lingering resentment for Liv—he managed to stumble to his feet and retreat deeper into the room as the guard raised his weapon.
“Who’s attacking us from the sky? Who else did you bring?”
Olly shook his head. “I don’t know anything about that.”
The gun shook in the guard’s hand.
“We came from the ground,” Olly insisted.
After the guard transmitted his answer, the frantic voice returned.
“Footage shows a few more dots of orange on the ground farther in the distance. Moretti needs to close the blast door now!”
“So tell him!” the guard snapped, his weapon lowering as he yelled into the device. “He should be on this frequency!”
The guard’s eyes creased, and he finally looked away from Olly, staring down at his walkie. Even from across the room, Olly saw the man’s knuckles turning whiter by the moment. Olly took a few small steps toward the guard, who remained preoccupied.
“I’m here,” another voice said through the walkie.
Olly tensed his legs to spring at the guard, but something about the new voice made him freeze. He knew the voice, though common sense told him that couldn’t be possible. I’ve heard that voice before. . . a lot of times before. . . but who is it?
Before he could figure it out, he convinced himself it couldn’t be true, that it must’ve sounded like somebody he once knew. But he no sooner took a few more steps than the voice returned, sounding as familiar as before.
“The hangar door is closed,” the voice said. Olly thought he noticed a slight quiver in the person’s tone. “Nobody will, uh, be coming in through there.”
“In that case,” another new voice said, this one female and panicked, yet assertive, “I’m placing an order for all available guards, all guards, to report to the upper level. Lock up whatever prisoners we have and get up here now.”
With his chance to escape slipping away, Olly rushed the door with reckless abandon. But the guard already started putting away his walkie and sensed the flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Olly knew he’d never reach the door in time and for a split second, he had the choice to keep going or stop and beg for mercy. His heartbeat pounding heavy in his ears, Olly kept going, reaching the guard at the same time the guard swung his weapon. Olly tried to block the blow but couldn’t raise his hands in time. The thud of metal against skull echoed in the room. Olly’s vision flashed to black, but he remained conscious long enough to hear a second thud, this one of his body hitting the floor, followed soon thereafter by the slamming of the door.
He barely clung to consciousness, only intense pain in his head stopping him from falling into a deep, dark hole of blackness. Olly fought through the pain, his mind somehow returning to several moments from the past.
Walking in on his father, King Edmond, as he’d beaten a young woman. . . the fact that Olly could’ve helped the young woman but didn’t. . . how he’d once locked up Emma and had beaten her as well. . . how Emma then saved his life from the angry mob of Thirders in the Main Tunnel. . . how they’d married to link The Third and Fifth… how he’d repaid her loyalty by choosing to help Paige when both were in desperate need. . .
But one thought stuck out more than all other memories, one thought that made him want to fade away and never come back. I deserve every punishment I received in the past and every punishment I’ll receive in the future. . .
His eyes started to flutter open, but he squeezed them shut, his face still pressed to the cold, rocky floor. The discomfort in his body was nothing compared to the grief overwhelming his mind and soul. He became so lost in pain and anguish that it wasn’t until he heard a rustling at the door that he wondered how long he’d been down. He opened his eyes, the light dim yet blinding at the same time. He expected to find guards swarming him, or his cruel feathered captors armed with another syringe.
He rolled to his belly, swallowing the bile rising at the back of his throat. He started to shake his head to tell the guards to leave him alone, but even small movements made his vision spin. Taking a deep breath, Olly forced himself to his hands and knees, and then forced himself to his feet, where he wobbled for several seconds, desperately trying to focus his eyes. He expected to see blurred shapes rushing through the door or hear the distant echo of yelling, but all remained quiet and still, at least quiet and still before the door to the room creaked open ever so slightly.
<
br /> Olly blinked hard, his vision finally clearing enough to see Liv standing in the doorway. She hurried inside and closed the door, but not all the way.
“Mom?” he asked, the sound of his own voice reverberating in his skull. Liv peeked out through the cracked door. “How did you—”
She turned and placed a finger to her nose. “I learned some things while living with the Tunnelers,” she whispered. She reached a hand toward his head, but he recoiled. She frowned and turned back to the door. “We need to get out of here while the guards are gone.”
A single swirl in his stomach was all the excitement Olly could muster. He wanted to sit back down and close his eyes but settled on leaning against the wall.
“What’s the point?” Olly asked.
Liv’s head snapped in his direction, her eyes narrowing, her lips taut. Olly apparently found how to make her as upset as he felt.
“Life has lots of difficulties; this is just another obstacle we have to overcome,” she said. “Survival is what’s most important. That’s how it’s always been for us, and that’s how it will always be.”
“Maybe this is happening for a reason; maybe there is a greater force punishing us for past decisions we’ve made,” Olly said.
“A greater force like the Lord and Jonas?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She shook her head. “Regret is a part of life for everyone. You can let it drag you in the past and destroy you, or you can try to do better and move beyond it into the future. I gave up a lot—maybe too much—for a chance to survive, but all of those difficult decisions led me to this moment, with you, so we can face this situation together.”
“Don’t you mean die in this situation together?”
When she reached a hand toward him this time, Olly did not move. Sadness filled Liv’s eyes as she gently stroked the roughened, scarred skin on the side of his face.
“We both survived your father,” she said, her tone soft but firm. “We both survived the volcano eruption and we both survived the White Nothingness. We’ll survive this, too, as long as we’re together and as long as we trust each other.”
She opened the door and peered into the hallway before turning and offering her hand. Olly stared at it.
“You’ll never trust me if you can’t forgive me,” she said. “I didn’t leave you in the Main Tunnel, and I didn’t leave you when I escaped my own cell. I won’t ever leave you again, no matter the circumstances.”
Olly felt something crack inside of him that had nothing to do with being struck by the guard. His breath caught in his throat, and as he stared at his mother’s hand, he realized those were the exact words he’d been dreaming of her saying since the day she’d disappeared. He couldn’t look her in the eye for fear of crying, and he couldn’t speak for fear of his voice cracking. Instead, he stared at her hand until finally taking it, her skin rough and firm, yet somehow more comforting than anything he’d ever felt.
When he finally glanced up, Olly saw his mother’s eyes red and glassy. She nodded and he did the same, a pair of strange gestures that caused them both to smile. Their moment didn’t last long.
“What will we do?” Olly asked.
She pulled him toward the door and into the hallway, where they turned left. Olly didn’t remember the hall being so light and now wished it were darker. He couldn’t see where the hallway ended and expected to hear a commotion at any moment. For the first few seconds, he raced just behind his mother, who kept trying to pull him along. But his adrenaline was wearing off and dizziness returned to his head, not to mention pain.
“We have to hurry,” his mother said. “I don’t know where the guards went, but we won’t stay lucky forever.”
“They were called to the upper level,” Olly said. “All of them. Some kind of attack from the sky.”
Liv stopped so suddenly that Olly bumped into her. “Don’t the Sky People live here?” she asked.
Olly shrugged, glad to catch his breath and clear his vision. It wasn’t long before Liv began to pull him again.
“With any luck, we’ll find our way below and steal one of the vehicles,” she said. Just ahead was the end of the hallway and the door leading to the stairwell. “Hopefully, the guard wearing that mask isn’t down there; if he is, we’ll have the element of surprise on our side to eliminate him. If we get past him, we can get outside and find the rest of our people before they suffer the same fate as—”
The moment Liv opened the door, the hilt of a spear swung toward her head. She barely had time to gasp before wood cracked against her skull. Olly felt his mother’s hand go slack. He stumbled to catch her before she hit the floor. Her eyes remained open, pained and dazed, the blow not enough to knock her out. Still, her weight held Olly down, even as he tried to stand and defend them.
A pair of guards rushed forward, one pointing a spear at the mother and son, the other aiming a gun. Quentin Bowie hobbled behind them and glanced back, nodding. Billy emerged last, syringe in hand. Despite the weapons pointed at him, Olly tried to stand, determined to destroy the syringe and the liquid it held, even if it cost his life. But Liv gripped her son’s arm so tightly he couldn’t move.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” Olly said. “All guards were called to the upper level.”
“Security is dealing with another problem, but we’re here to solve the biggest one,” Quentin said, his eyes widening in anticipation. He glanced at Billy and pointed to Olly. “That one.”
“No,” Liv snapped, struggling to move in front of Olly.
“Right here? Right now?” Billy asked, not bothering to hide his disgust. “This environment is nowhere near sterile enough.”
“It needs to be sterile to jam a needle into him?” Quentin asked, reaching for the syringe.
Billy shook his head, holding onto the syringe. “You’re right. Here is fine.”
Liv struggled to her feet, barely able to stand. Still, she managed to stay in front of Olly, even as he begged her to step aside.
“You can’t do this,” Liv begged. “Not after what happened to Irving.”
Billy stepped forward, holding the syringe up for all to see, flicking the side of the needle while shaking his head.
“I didn’t make that version,” Billy said. “This one should work better; the concentration of Descendant DNA is much stronger.”
“Stronger than what already killed a man?” Liv asked.
Liv slowly backed away, nudging Olly farther down the hallway. The guards were quick to circle behind, trapping them in front of the young scientist holding the newest version of Aviary. One of the guards opened a nearby door. Olly could sense their captors slowly shepherding them toward the empty room.
“From what I heard, the last test subject was an old man, probably too old,” Billy said without a hint of remorse. “This Aviary will require someone younger and stronger to survive the extreme bodily changes.”
Olly nodded and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, extending an arm toward Billy. “It’s what I deserve.”
Without warning, Liv rushed toward the young scientist, flailing her arms wildly, wobbly on her feet and unable to move in a straight line.
“Leave my son alone!”
Quentin squawked, and the two guards surged forward, one of them swinging a spear and cracking Liv’s skull before she reached Billy. She hit the rocky floor with a thud and did not move. The guards grabbed her arms and began to pull her into the room. Though Olly wanted to check on her, a burst of anger exploded out of him and he attacked the nearest guard, tackling him through the empty doorway. They both hit the doorjamb with a breath-sucking “oof,” the spear knocked out of the guard’s hand. The second guard aimed his gun at Olly, but Quentin squawked for the second time in a matter of seconds.
“Don’t!” he shrieked. “We need him!”
Quentin flapped his deformed wings and rushed between Olly and the guards. Olly proceeded to grab him and pull him into the room, creating even more confusion. As the guards struggled to separa
te them, Billy knelt beside Liv in the hallway. She raised her hands in surrender and struggled to sit.
“Please,” she whispered to him. “Inject me.”
Billy looked from the syringe to the chaos. Quentin finally rolled away from the scrum while the guards grabbed Olly’s arms. He continued to thrash and yell and keep all eyes focused on him.
“I can’t watch what would happen to my son,” Liv said.
Billy’s brow furrowed. “The Blast will work this time.”
“Please,” Liv said, tears blinking from the corners of her eyes. She reached for the syringe. “You don’t know if it’s truly safe.”
Billy backed away, his jaw tightening. The boy is a better test subject, common sense told him, but he couldn’t help thinking about his brothers and his sister being held captive, about how he was doing the bidding of these monstrosities to give his family a chance to survive. Guilt was a new feeling for him, one he didn’t like. He suddenly couldn’t bear the idea of torturing a mother in the name of saving his own family. Father would stop at nothing to keep us safe, just as she’s doing for her boy. . .
As the others got Olly under control and dragged him to his feet, they looked through the doorway at Billy, who uncapped the syringe and lunged at Liv. Quentin’s angry squawk and Olly’s panicked scream of ‘no’ were too late to stop Billy from jamming the tip into Liv’s arm and pressing the plunger, shooting the Aviary Blast into her body. Liv released a surprised yelp, but her eyes found Billy’s and she nodded her thanks.
“You damn fool!” Quentin yelled from inside the room.
Billy immediately backed off, dropping the empty syringe to the floor, shattering the glass. He crossed his arms in defiance.
“She’s just as strong as the boy,” he said. “I’ve seen your Board members. Many of them aren’t the picture of youth and strength, but you expect the Blast to transform them. Do you not?”