by Travis Brett
She charged.
Roman fired.
The bullet took her in the cheek, spraying blood. She barely flinched. She slammed into his chest, driving the wind out of his lungs and sending them both tumbling over the edge of the roof. As they fell her hand closed around his neck.
Roman's shoulder hit the ground first. Waves of pain stabbed through him. He tried to roll away. But suddenly he was on his back, pinned, with both her hands crushing his windpipe.
A huge arm wrapped around her chest and pulled her off. Gasping for air, Roman sat up, hastily searching for his gun. How could he have let himself drop it?
“Arrrrgh! You bitch!” Roman looked up to see Caleb retreating, clutching a bloody arm.
The girl advanced on Caleb, blood dripping from her teeth — she had bitten his arm, tearing off a slice of skin. The lines of light extending from her chest now only reached her shoulders. Roman shook his head, confused. Those lines should be growing longer, not shorter.
Tan charged at her from the side, knife flashing as he swung it at her throat. She ducked, darting around Tan. With one punch she sent him flying into the nearest wall.
Roman saw his gun. Right beneath the girl's feet. Just my fucking luck.
He crawled forward. With her back to him, he had a chance to—
She spun around, aiming a kick at Roman's head. He rolled aside, scrambling to his feet. Her knee slammed into his chest and he was thrown backwards, but managed to turn it into a roll and land on one knee. She advanced on him, scowling. Blood poured from her mouth and the hole in her cheek.
Caleb tackled her from behind. Her head hit the ground with a crunch. He pinned her down, a rock in his hand, and slammed it into the back of her head.
Then Caleb was in the air, flying backwards, and the Adrenalite was back on her feet. She paused, slowly looking down to stare down at her chest. Roman followed her gaze.
Her light was rapidly fading.
From behind, Tan caught the girl in a chokehold. He brought his knife around with his other arm and placed its tip against the centre of her chest, which was now completely devoid of light. The girl grunted something indecipherable as she clawed at Tan. But deactivated, she was no match for him.
Roman watched in disbelief as her face slowly turned blue and her struggling got weaker. What the hell had happened? She had been deactivated . . . somehow. After a minute her arms went limp and her eyes closed. Tan released her and she collapsed.
There was a long silence. Tan gently prodded the girl's body with his boot. “Well, she wasn't overly friendly,” he muttered.
“I told you they were anti-social.” Roman flipped the Adrenalite onto her back. She was still breathing, faintly. Roman's gaze moved to the steel needle sticking out of her right shoulder. It pulled out of her flesh cleanly.
Caleb knelt beside Roman. “That wasn't from you?”
Roman shook his head.
Caleb took it from Roman, gave it a quick examination, then tossed it. “It must have been laced with defoxican,” he said. “The militia are more prepared than we thought.”
“How long have they had this?” Roman said, furious. “We've been the ones who've actually been out fighting the Adrenalites, and Juliette kept technology like this a secret from us?”
“Turns out she’s not the charming angel of trust and honesty that we believed she was,” Tan said.
"You’re damn right about that." Roman slapped the Adrenalite across the cheek, then again. The third time, she opened her eyes. She stared at him, terrified, and began to crawl away. Roman pounced on her, using his legs to pin her arms against the ground. The girl hissed and cursed and spat at him.
Roman grabbed her by the hair and yanked. "Where’s Candle?"
"Go screw yourself!"
Roman held out his other hand to Tan, motioning for his knife. He didn't like the idea of hurting a half-naked, beaten girl. But he needed information. Now. He pressed the edge of the knife against her wrist. "Don't make me do this."
A flash of fear showed through her defiant expression, but she kept her mouth shut.
Feeling nauseous, Roman pushed the blade through skin and tendons. It came to a grinding halt against her bone. She screamed. Roman pressed harder. "Where. The. Fuck. Is. Candle?"
"I don't know," she whimpered. "I don't fucking know. We all split up."
"Then where's Ashton Spencer?"
"If I tell you, you'll kill me?"
"No."
"Please. Do it."
Roman blinked. "You want to die?"
She nodded, her breath coming in gulps. "I don't want to be . . . taken."
Roman thought back to Burrstone, taking his life rather than being captured. Was it Candle's influence that made these Adrenalites want to be martyrs? Roman didn't want to kill her, but he supposed he didn't need her alive either. "Fine. I'll do it.”
"Thank you."
Roman glanced at the knife, still half buried in her wrist. He didn't feel like he deserved thanking.
"Spencer's in the control building," the girl said. "In the middle of the station. You'll know it when you see it." She glanced at her bleeding wrist, then quickly shut her eyes. “Now do it, you bastard.”
Roman stabbed her in the heart. She died quickly, at least. He stood and wiped the knife on his trousers. "Let's go," he said, eager to get away from the corpse.
"We're going after Spencer now?" Caleb asked. "Our target is Candle. Gavin won't—"
"I know." Roman strode further into the station, Caleb and Tan falling into step behind him. "But if we capture Spencer, then we have some sort of leverage over Candle when we find him." Roman turned a corner, quickening his pace. "And, at the least, we'll have someone who can identify Candle."
Tan looked skeptical. "I don't imagine he'll feel like helping us."
"I don’t give a damn what he feels like." Roman handed Tan's knife back to him. "And if we pull it off, then we can send Spencer back to Juliette after."
"It's a hell of a long shot," Caleb said.
"You got any better ideas?"
Caleb didn't respond.
"Yeah. Thought so."
29
To Sparks, the station was a maze, but Candle moved through it like he knew each alley by heart. He bolted across the rooftops, not bothering to check if Sparks was following. Watching him, Sparks knew why so many Adrenalites would choose to follow a man like this.
On the ground below, a squad of a dozen militia stood in a cluster. Sparks was about to call out, but Candle was already in the air, dropping into the middle of them.
Sparks’ was a second behind him. He kicked a militia in the face as he came down, then crashed into another. He quickly jabbed his index and middle finger into the man’s eyes, bursting them, and leapt back to his feet.
The militia never stood a chance. Candle spun in a whirlwind of punches and kicks, and the militia crumbled before they even had a chance to react. Sparks bent low, grabbing the nearest militia by his leg. He lifted the man up, carrying him over himself and slamming him to the ground on his other side. Sparks felt the bones in the leg shatter.
Five heartbeats later, it was over. The militia lay scattered on the ground, dead. Sparks took a moment to appreciate their work. With him and Candle together, they were unstoppable. “That was fun,” he said breathlessly. “They didn’t even—”
“We’re not finished.” Candle was already running deeper into the station.
Not that great at conversation, is he? Sparks snatched a knife from a dead militia and followed.
The next three groups of militia couldn’t challenge them any more than the first. Soon Sparks’ entire body was covered in his blue light, his heart hammering a frenzied tempo that drove him on. Candle was damn good. Sparks was the faster fighter, but Candle used his size and strength to his advantage. No militia even got close to striking him.
Sparks wanted to fight Candle; that would be a proper challenge.
They stopped dead when they came a
cross the body of an Adrenalite. He looked even younger than Sparks, and his mouth was stuck in a final grimace of pain. Three crossbow bolts protruded from his chest. Candle crouched beside the corpse.
“Who as he?” Sparks asked.
“His name was Wire,” Candle said, running his hand over the boy’s face and closing his eyelids. “But he wanted us to call him Max. He said he wanted a real name.”
“Was he a good fighter?”
“He was a good person.”
“Oh.” Sparks puzzled over that answer. Why should Candle care what kind of person anyone was? You couldn’t defeat the Ministries by being good. After a long minute Candle stood up again, he didn’t look at Sparks as he asked, “How do you feel about revenge?”
“I consider myself a fan.”
“Then let’s kill more of these fuckers.” Candle led the way onward.
Five dead militia later, they came across a pile of corpses scattered through an alleyway. Sparks curled up his nose at the stench of blood and vomit and shit. In the middle of the bodies, two Adrenalites — a man and a woman — lay beside each other, each bleeding from a dozen bullet wounds. Candle cursed.
The man had a steel spike sticking out of his thigh, just like the one that had hit Sparks. Was that what deactivated me? Is that what happened to this guy?
Sparks imagined the Adrenalite’s horror when he had been deactivated. The girl must have tried to protect him. And now they were both dead. Seeing them made Sparks realize the unpleasant truth: the militia had the advantage in numbers, and, despite Sparks and Candle’s best efforts, they were winning. How long before he and Candle got unlucky and were killed? If one of them got deactivated by one of those strange bolts, it could be all over.
“I think we’re losing,” Sparks said.
“Maybe,” Candle replied. “But we haven’t lost.”
“You sure about that?”
“We’re still alive, aren’t we?” Candle picked up a blood-covered axe and a long, serrated blade from the ground before disappearing around a corner.
This time, Sparks hesitated. The memory of nearly being killed, just minutes ago, held him back. Before this the idea of dying in a fight didn’t seem possible. Now it felt all too real. He wanted to follow Candle, but was he prepared to die in his fight?
It doesn’t matter, he reminded himself. I don’t run from a fight. Or, at least, I never will again. Sparks set off in pursuit of Candle, determined.
He heard a scream ahead, then a gunshot, then more screaming. Following the noise, Sparks leapt over a pile of rusted steel beams. He raced around the next corner just in time to watch Candle crush a militia’s head against a wall. There were already half a dozen corpses on the ground. Sparks stopped mid-step. He noticed one of the bodies belonged to an Adrenalite. Face down, the bullet had passed straight through her skull, leaving the back of her head as a gory mess.
Candle rolled the girl onto her back. Sparks flinched at seeing the damage the bullet had done to her face. “Her name was Hunter,” Candle said. “Remember it, because no one but us is going to.”
Sparks frowned. “And who’s going to remember us if we die?”
“We’re not going to die. . . or, at least, I’m not,” Candle corrected himself with a hint of a grin.
“What makes you so sure?”
“Because I still have a promise to keep.”
Sparks cocked his head, curious. “What promise?”
“Juliette has five of my friends captive. I told them I would come back for them.”
“So that’s what this is about.”
“Did you expect something different?”
Sparks thought about that. What did he expect from Candle? Not this, for sure. In some ways, Candle was just like Sparks had imagined him — strong and determined. But in other ways, he was the opposite. Sparks shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me,” he said. “As long as there’s a decent fight to have, I’m in.”
Candle scowled. “That’s all you care about?”
“It’s what I do.”
“You’re naive, kid. Maybe, if you really are the best fighter in Legacy, you’ll live long enough to fix that.”
“Well I am, so why are we still talking about this? Let’s go.”
Sparks began to move, but Candle held up a hand for him to stop. “If we really are losing,” he said, “then I’ve got to get Ashton out of here. He’ll be their main target. And I won’t let them take him. I owe him that.”
Ashton Spencer was here? Obviously, Candle had succeeded in rescuing him from Gavin. “Fine,” Sparks said. “Let’s go get him.”
“You’re not coming.”
“Why not?” Sparks frowned. “I can help, I . . . wait, you still don’t trust me?”
Candle shook his head. “No.”
“You just saw me kill militia, how is that not enough proof that I’m on your side?”
“Juliette wouldn’t care about their lives, but she does care about Ashton’s. She needs him.”
Sparks sighed, frustrated. “I’m not working for her, okay?”
“Most likely not. But that doesn’t change my decision. I don’t mind risking my life by trusting you, but I won’t risk Ashton’s.”
“Fine. Go.” Sparks waved Candle away. “I’ll kill them all myself. I’ll—” he paused, then grinned. “I’ll find Juliette, and I’ll tear her head off. Will that be enough for you?”
“As long as you don’t let her die too quickly.”
“Of course not.”
Candle turned and jumped onto the nearest building, disappearing from sight. Sparks hesitated, which way should he go now? He closed his eyes and listened — someone was yelling to his right. That seemed as good a direction as any. He dashed forward, taking the next corner that way.
Two corners later he suddenly stopped. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized the three men in front of him.
Caleb, Tan, and Roman.
30
Roman skidded to a halt, stunned. What the hell was Sparks doing here?
They stared at each other for a long moment, neither of them moving. Roman’s mind raced. Sparks hadn’t killed him last time, but seeing Sparks again, activated and covered head to toe in blood, Roman wasn’t sure the boy would be so merciful a second time.
Roman’s gun felt heavy in his hand. He didn’t have time to deal with Sparks, and he still had one bullet left. But he had made a promise to Caleb – and Roman wasn’t one to break his word. He kept his gun aimed at the ground.
Caleb stepped forward, stretching his arms in a neutral gesture. “We don’t want to fight,” he called to Sparks.
Roman snorted. It always comes down to a fight. But Sparks took a step back, his expression unreadable.
Caleb looked back at Roman. “Go. You get Spencer, I’ll deal with the boy.”
“You sure about this?”
“No. But out of the three of us, I reckon I’m the one he’s least likely to kill.”
Roman nodded, then reluctantly turned around and backtracked their path. Tan followed. “You okay with this, Boss?” he asked.
“I wouldn’t use the term okay. But we don’t have time for this right now. Come on.”
They turned a corner, trying to find a new path to led them to the centre of the station. The screams and gunshots were getting less frequent now; the battle was turning into small skirmishes between the few fighters still alive. Roman broke into a sprint, Tan right behind him. Whichever side won, Roman didn’t want to stick around long enough to meet the victors.
They passed the mangled corpses of a trio of militia. Roman felt sick as he dodged around the pools of blood. Tan stopped and picked up a crossbow from beside one of the bodies.
They continued on. Each time the sounds of fighting got too close they would change the route to avoid it. It meant they had to stop and retrace their steps half a dozen times, slowing their progress. Roman hated the delays, his frustration quickly growing, but they were lucky to survive their first fight
with an Adrenalite, their best chance now was to hide as much as possible.
“You think Caleb’s okay?” Tan asked as they ran. “I mean, he’s a big dude. You reckon he has a chance against the kid?”
“You’ve seen the boy fight. If it ends in violence, then Caleb is fucked.”
“Well let’s hope they settle for a relaxing picnic.”
“Here’s to hope, then.” Roman raised an imaginary glass in an imaginary toast. “Because it’s never, ever, let us down before.”
“Did I ever tell you that you’re kind of a dick when you’re sarcastic?”
“That’s why I’m never, ever, sarcastic.”
Tan chuckled. “Fair call, Boss. You win this round.”
“No. I don’t,” Roman said as they headed deeper in the station, the sound of fighting coming from all around them. “Today, I don’t think anybody wins.”
* * *
“Stay away,” Sparks said, fists raised defensively as he slowly retreated. “I don’t want to kill you.”
“Listen, Sparks,” Caleb took a step forward. “I don’t want to hurt you either. I really don’t.”
“So stay away.”
Sparks took another step backwards and he hit the wall behind him. Behind Caleb, Roman and Tan ran out of sight. They’re going to try kill Candle. I can’t let them. But Caleb stood in his way, and despite himself, Spark didn’t want to hurt Caleb. For the last three months, Caleb had been the closest thing to a friend he had.
But Caleb had lied to Sparks, and he worked for Roman. Sparks wasn’t about to forgive those points.
“You’re better than this,” Caleb said. “You don’t have to join Candle. You’re not like him.”
“Don’t tell me who I am. You don’t know—”
“I know you’re not like Candle.”
“I’m a fighter, just like he is. And this is my battle, not yours. Just leave.”
“No.”
Sparks growled in frustration. What was Caleb’s plan? Was he just trying to distract Sparks so that Roman could get away? Whatever it is, there was only one thing that Sparks should do – kill Caleb and then stop Roman. That would be what Candle wanted. But Sparks couldn’t do that.
