by Amy Sumida
I eased the door open a few inches and cautiously peered out. Sparks illuminated the darkness intermittently; crackling electricity that arced from broken wires and across the exposed innards of smashed equipment. Emergency lights flickered on; their pathetic glow radiating through protective bars. I slipped out of the cell and into a long, rectangular room with work tables in its center and several doors set into each wall. I saw only one open doorway that led into a hallway. I could still hear screaming and even some sobbing, but there no one was in sight.
Then a horrible blaring went off. I cringed and noted the fire alarm flashing in a corner. There was definitely smoke in the air and the scent was getting stronger. I needed to find my way out and fast. But on the table directly in front of me, I spotted my purse. Beside it was a rectangular, metal box; a safe deposit box from a bank. I hurried over and snatched up my purse and then quickly flipped back the lid on the box. Inside the box were Samuel Devlin's notes, but these weren't the ones for creating a bioweapon against the Triari; they were the original project.
“The Bleiten Killer,” I read the succinct title as I scooped the notes up. “You should have burned these, Malik.”
I shoved the papers in my purse and hurried for the door, but the sound of pounding and panicked voices made me pause once more.
“Is someone out there?” A woman's voice cried. “Please, don't leave us here to die!”
“Where are you?” I called back.
“Here!”
“I'm over here!”
“Hello?”
Several voices called out to me from behind the other steel doors.
“Hold on!” I shouted back to them. “Does anyone know how to open these doors?”
“There are security panels beside each one! Just hit the green button!”
I ran to the nearest door and pushed the button. The steel door swung open, and a woman rushed out into my arms.
“Thank you!” She hugged me and then pulled back to look around us. “Jesus fuck!”
“Help me free the others,” I said urgently.
We rushed around the room; hitting green buttons until we came to the last door. The button wasn't working; its panel must have failed like mine. But unlike mine, its failure hadn't opened the door, it had sealed the woman inside.
“We have to go!” One of the other women said. “Look!”
Our stares followed her pointing finger to a door on the far end of the room. Smoke was pouring in from the cracks around it.
“All of you get out of here,” I said. “I'm going to open this damn door.”
Most of the women ran out, but a few others stayed behind.
“You didn't leave us,” the first woman I had freed said. “We're not leaving you.”
“What do we do?” Another one asked.
“We need something heavy to bash this panel,” I said.
“No, you don't,” another woman hurried over with a few tools she'd scavenged off the work tables. “We need to get the panel open and feed the correct wire some electricity.”
“I got your electricity right here,” the first woman said as she lifted her hand; sparks crackled along her fingertips.
“Excellent,” the woman with the tools said as she opened the panel. She fussed around the wires and finally pulled one loose and cut it. “Here; zap this one.”
“And fucking hurry!” Another woman screeched.
“Please don't leave me,” a female voice whimpered behind the door.
“We aren't leaving you, honey. Don't you worry,” Sparky said as she gave the wires a little zap.
The cell door opened just as the one at the end of the room buckled and creaked. The woman inside the room lurched out; straight into Sparky's arms.
“Let's get the fuck out of here!” Sparky declared.
We all ran for the open door leading to the hallway. I slammed it closed behind us and heard another explosion a few moments afterward. But I didn't look back. There was sunlight at the end of the corridor, and I focused on that instead. We all put on an extra burst of speed as we ran for it; our footsteps echoing off the walls. The cries of the other women filtered down to us; urging us to go even faster. My breath sawed in and out of my throat and adrenaline surged through my veins. I knew I'd survive, but my fear of fire was instinctual, not rational.
Finally, we burst free of the building, and I motioned the waiting women to move even further away. I didn't know what was inside that place or how flammable it was. We needed to get out of the blast zone.
“Keep running!” I shouted.
The women didn't argue, they just turned and ran. We were in an industrial zone on the outskirts of D.C. And the streets were deserted; lit by only a few struggling streetlamps. But a full moon hung overhead, and it illuminated our escape down the stained sidewalk. We ran for two blocks until we were out of breath and strength, and then we dropped into crouches as we panted with fear and exhaustion. As I caught my breath, an enormous explosion drew my attention back the way we'd come.
The night sky erupted into a soaring column of flames and smoke that went higher than the surrounding buildings. More explosions boomed out; rolling across the city like thunder. Within minutes, the sound of firetrucks was heard wailing their way toward danger. I collapsed against a cement wall and tried to calm my racing heart.
“I can't believe we're free,” Sparky said to me. “Thank you.”
“It was nothing.” I shook my head. “My door got blasted open; I was just lucky.”
“But you saved us instead of running,” the last woman we released said. “Thank you; if all of you hadn't stayed to help me, I'd be burning in that right now.” She pointed back at the inferno.
“Well, not all of us stayed.” Sparky sent the other women a hard look, and they quickly looked away.
“Hey, it's not easy to be brave,” I said to Sparky. “Fear is instinctual. Our blood tells us to run, and it's hard to go against your own blood.”
I knew that better than most.
“Denying our instincts is what separates us from animals,” Sparky said angrily.
“It can also get you killed. We nearly didn't make it out of there, and then all of us would have died instead of only one,” I said gently. “But we were lucky as well as brave, and we did make it out; let's focus on that.”
“All right.” She held her hands up. “I'll let it go.”
“How long have you all been there?” I asked as I fished my phone out of my purse.
“Weeks for me,” one said.
“A few days,” Sparky said.
Each of them had a different answer. And then I saw their eyes; purple, every single one.
“Fuck,” I whispered. “You're the missing girls from the Supermarket.”
They all nodded.
“Well, that changes things,” I deleted the 911 I had started to dial and punched in 000 instead.
“What's your emergency?” A woman answered.
“Fire, abduction, and the creation of racially-targeted bioweapons,” I said. “Take your pick.”
There was silence for a second. Then, “What's your location, Ma'am?”
“I don't know where we are,” I said tiredly. “But there's a warehouse on fire straight down the street from us that we just escaped from. I think the flames are high enough for you to follow. If it isn't, you can track my phone.”
“You're outside the Market?”
“Yes; but this is supe business. I have the missing women from the Market with me,” I said. “I think Grundage will want our people here before the human police muscle in. Human firefighters are already on scene.”
“Understood,” she said. “We can find you through them. I'll send a supe ambulance to pick you up.”
“Me and eight others,” I said.
“Do you have all of the missing women?” The operator asked.
“As far as I know,” I said.
“Help is on the way. Would you like me to stay on the line with you until they
arrive?”
“No, thank you,” I said. “I have other calls to make.”
I hung up as she sputtered. Then I dialed Landry.
“Where the fuck are you, kid?” Landry growled.
“I don't really know, Land,” I said. “I just escaped some kind of mad scientist laboratory.”
“You what?!”
“I wanted you to know that I'm okay,” I said calmly. “And I found Davorin's missing ladies. They're okay too.”
“Damn,” Landry whispered. “You've been busy. You gonna be all right?”
“The Market is sending an ambulance,” I said. “We'll be fine.”
“How are they going to find you if you don't know where you are?”
“I think the flames will help them,” I said dryly.
“What?!”
“I'm okay,” I repeated. “Don't worry; I'll be home soon.”
“No, you won't; they're going to take you to the fucking hospital, kid,” Landry growled. “It would be best if you avoided that.”
“Oh,” I murmured. “Yes, of course.”
“Do that Google thing and locate your damn self,” Landry growled. “Then call me back and tell me where you are, and I'll come get you.”
“I'm not leaving these ladies alone,” I protested.
“You can wait for the ambulance, just don't get on it.” Landry hung up.
“Well, duh,” I muttered primly as I opened Google maps and found out where I was. “I did just wake up after being drugged; he could have cut me some slack.”
“Was that your father?” Sparky asked.
“Yes,” I said without thinking. And then I said it again, more firmly, because Landry was my dad. “Yes; that was my father.”
“Can I use your phone to call my parents?” She asked.
“Two more calls and it's all yours,” I promised. “You can pass it around.”
I called Landry back and told him where I was, and then I called Davorin to let him know that I was all right. I cut him off when he tried to get more information out of me and told him to meet me at The Wilds. Then I handed my cell phone to Sparky.
As she spoke to her parents, I asked the others about the Bleiten, but they all said that they mainly dealt with a few men who looked like scientists, not soldiers. The only man they'd seen who they could be certain was a Bleiten, was the one who had abducted them. They couldn't tell if the scientists were Bleiten as well, but the scientists had been savvy about dealing with the supe ladies. Each woman was restrained in a manner that restricted her individual ability before she was brought into the main room and had samples of her blood taken. That sounded like some serious preparation. Those women must have been watched before they were targeted, and that sounded familiar.
The Bleiten had either hired scientists on Earth or had brought some with them, but either way, they knew what they were doing. Although one of the telltale Bleiten traits was their substantial size, there were non-warrior classes who were said to be smaller in stature. So, it was entirely possible that the scientists had been Bleiten. I assumed that despite their reduced size, Bleiten civilians would still possess the sharp features and even sharper canines of a warrior. So, I asked the women if they had noticed such things on the scientists. They all shook their heads; details like facial features tend to blur when you're terrified.
But our conversation served to remind me that not all Bleiten were created equal, and if they had brought scientists with them to Earth, then perhaps they had brought others too. In short; we may have been too hasty in dismissing the bank robbers as non-Bleiten simply due to their size. The men who DHS had been able to follow were definitely not Bleiten; I'd seen their pictures and they didn't display any of the traits. But that didn't rule out the others; even though it was unheard of, it could be a mixed crew.
As I was subtly questioning the ladies, they used my cell phone to call their loved ones, and before they were finished, their ride showed up. It was an average-looking ambulance driven and manned by average looking individuals who were actually supernaturals. Landry arrived a few minutes later, just as an EMT started looking me over. There was nothing wrong with me, of course, but he still wanted me to go with the others to the small hospital in the Supermarket and have some tests done.
“She said no, buddy,” Landry said sternly. “See to the rest of them.”
The EMT gave us both an annoyed look but was obviously reluctant to argue with Landry. He gave up and headed to Sparky.
“Hey,” Sparky called after me as I walked away. “You just going to leave without saying goodbye?”
“Goodbye, Sparky,” I called back. “It was lovely to meet you.”
“My name's not Sparky; it's Alexandra,” she said. “What's yours?”
“Her name's Spectra,” Landry said as he hauled me away.
I looked at him in shock.
“We don't need Grundage and her group knowing that you were here,” he said. “This is going to be a fucking mess, and we're already involved in a homicide.”
“I'm going to have to deal with it eventually,” I said as I slid into the passenger seat of Landry's Jaguar.
Yes; the barman had a thing for luxury cars.
“No, you won't,” Landry said decisively as he turned the engine on. “Let the human and supe leaders figure it out.”
“But I know it was the Bleitens,” I said as we drove away from the women with purple eyes. “And then there's this.”
I pulled out Devlin's notes.
“What's that?”
“This is a recipe for killing Bleiten,” I said cryptically.
Landry just started to smile.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
On the way home, I noticed that—among the droves of messages from Landry and Davorin—I had six text messages from the President. I texted him back; concisely explaining what had happened. It was all of three minutes before my phone was ringing.
“You were abducted?” President Colton asked in a horrified tone. “I'm assuming that it occurred when you tried to trap the Bleiten.”
“I never made it to the park,” I said. “I was drugged on the way; in the back of a cab. I woke up in a cell just as a series of explosions began.”
“You got blown up?!”
“Obviously not,” I said calmly. “I was able to make it out with eight other women. But the important thing is what I snagged on my way out the door, Mr. President.”
“A Bleiten's head on a platter?” He asked dryly.
“Who do you think I am; Salome?” I huffed. “No; I found the notes to make a Bleiten bioweapon; as in a weapon to kill them.”
He went silent.
“Mr. President?”
“Hold onto those notes, Amara, and don't share them with anyone,” he said grimly. “The Triari are being stubborn about leaving. They see it as a cowardly act.”
“But you don't want the notes, Mr. President?”
“Not yet,” he said. “Frankly, I'm loathed to sink to such levels, and if I hand them over to the DOD, we will become a part of this feud between the Bleiten and the Triari, and we will do it in the most despicable way.”
“After all the horrible things they've done, you won't use this to even the score?” I asked in surprise. “They employed the same type of weapon against the Triari. They intend to use it again in this war.”
“And that makes it okay for us to employ evil tactics?”
“No,” I whispered. “It's not okay. The question is; do you think it's a necessary evil?”
“So far, Amara, the Bleiten have only attacked the Triari,” he pointed out. “They haven't hurt any of our people.”
“They just abducted me,” I pointed out. “And we have confirmation that they're coming here to have their war on our planet.”
“But did they hurt you?” He countered. “And is an overheard conversation really confirmation, or is it simply intel that we must analyze cautiously?”
“Gee, thanks,” I huffed. “My hero.”
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The H word made me think of Davorin immediately. He wouldn't hesitate to make a weapon and use it to kill those Bleiten bastards who had abducted me and all those other women. But, did I want him to? Did I really think that we should use such a horrible weapon? Or did I agree with Colton and think that resorting to such measures was evil; a slippery slope that I wanted to avoid?
“You know that I would go to bat for you, Amara,” Colton chided me. “I already have. I threatened war for you. But I wouldn't threaten nuclear war, and this bioweapon is a step away from that. If we use it against the Bleiten, what will stop them from creating one to use against us? Frankly, they wouldn't need to create a weapon; all they would have to do is decide to annihilate us, and humankind would be a memory. We must tread carefully in these alien waters, Amara. But most importantly, we must not lose sight of our morality and our humanity.”
“Do you really think the bioweapon is evil?”
“You didn't see what it did to the Triari. It was quick, but it was far from painless,” he said softly. “And they never stood a chance, Amara. To kill someone in so cowardly a fashion—to not give them the opportunity to defend themselves—that feels evil to me.”
“The U.S. drops bombs on its enemies all the time,” I pointed out.
“Hardly,” he scoffed. “We have done it when we felt it was necessary, but even a bomb can be outmaneuvered. At least, a normal one. Chemical warfare is the stuff of nightmares. I say we leave it to the demons and sleep with a clear conscience.”
“You're a damn good man, Mr. President,” I whispered. “I have never been more proud to be an American. I wish I could replay this conversation for the entire world to hear.”
“Thank you, Amara,” he said softly. “Now, please, keep those notes safe, because, I assure you, the entire world will not share my opinion. I must be the leader they elected me to be and keep them safe from themselves as well as others. If we have no other choice, we can use the bioweapon to defend ourselves, but I intend for that to be our last resort.”
