by Carysa Locke
Her voice began to fade, growing misty and far away. That was nice, because his pain was also growing distant.
Thirteen swore. She stared into the distance. “I guess we have no choice but to rely on Kieran.” She went still suddenly, her head cocked as though listening. She jerked her chin at Sebastian. “Get this cleaned up. We have company incoming.”
That should have been alarming, but Sebastian found he just didn’t care. Company? Beasts or men made no difference to him. Darkness edged his vision, and he welcomed it. Oblivion meant an end to the emptiness.
He let it take him.
Chapter Eighteen
Stepping outside the Enclave, Reaper had to blink against the brightness of the sun. He stood at the tunnel entrance, surprised it was morning. They’d been in the archives all night, researching and pulling down information.
Finally. Treon sounded exasperated. It took you long enough.
Have you found them?
Yes, as you’re about to hear.
Hear? Treon—
The sound of turrets in the distance was unmistakable.
“Those are my guns!” Declan said, sounding outraged. “That’s my ship.”
“I did ask Treon for a distraction.”
“That’s not a terrible plan,” Cannon observed.
So glad you approve, Treon said. We’ve sent them running for cover. Get over here and get Sebastian.
Reaper hesitated. The old plan was in ashes; there was no longer a ship to retreat to, at least not in a safe direction. If anything on this planet could be considered safe.
“Fine, we all go together. Ghost, line them up. Everyone stay alert. Remember, there are more dangers on this planet than those brought by humans.” He scanned the skyline. “I’ll be nearby. Keep moving. Don’t stop until you get to the ship, or unless you hear from me.” His gaze roved over the group, lingering on Mercy and Cannon before switching to Declan. “Ghost is in charge. He has more training for this sort of thing than any of you.”
No one argued.
“Reaper.” Mercy snagged his fingers when he went to step away. “Be careful.”
He gave her hand a squeeze, then jogged across the street. The whole time, his Talent was active. He was searching. The older Killer had to be nearby. If he wasn’t yet, he soon would be. The moment she stepped outside the Enclave, Mercy would have become a beacon for him.
He’d be stalking her. Reaper’s original plan had been to shadow the group going back to the ship. That hadn’t changed.
Is that— Treon’s voice sounded in his head as he was settling into a rhythm. Pacing Mercy, searching the surrounding buildings. Keeping to the shadows and staying hidden while he did it.
He didn’t need the distraction.
It is. Treon’s voice was astonished. Did you know Thirteen was with this group? Did you know I’d be firing on her?
Treon, for all that he wasn’t part Killer, didn’t anger easily. He was too intelligent to let his emotions rule him as often as other people did. But he definitely sounded angry.
I didn’t know you’d be firing at all, remember? Using the ship was your brilliant idea. Stay focused, he told his brother.
You knew.
She’s the enemy, Treon. You know that.
I need to talk to her.
You need to fire those guns.
I can do both, his brother insisted.
Treon.
You don’t understand. She’s important.
Something pulled at Reaper’s awareness. He pushed his brother’s voice aside, focusing intently. Something small with scales and claws raced across the rubble away from him. A predator, but not the one he was looking for.
He needed to get his brother back on task. Treon, you could have any woman in the fleet. You, being difficult, had to obsess about one who follows our enemy.
It’s not like that.
No?
No. His brother’s voice was surprisingly firm on the matter. Thirteen is unlike any Talented person I have ever met. She does something with Talent that is like… Treon hesitated. It’s like she can manipulate the Talent in others. She cured me of burnout. She bolstered the shields of the Alpha Queen’s forces. Are you understanding what I’m telling you?
As Reaper swept his gaze across the others, their shadows moving among the old buildings and fallen walls, Mercy stumbled. He watched as she caught herself and kept going. She just tripped on a rock, he told himself. Nothing to worry about.
Are you listening to me?
Yes, Treon. I understand she’s a mystery you’d like to solve.
No! How can you be some special strategist breed of Talented and not understand me? Think for a moment. We are facing possibly the most powerful Queen who has ever lived. A Queen who has killed others of her kind. We need an advantage. What could we do with Thirteen’s abilities on our side?
Reaper stopped. You want to use her against the Alpha Queen. You want to turn her.
The light dawns. Yes!
Then I suggest you be very careful where you aim those guns. Why don’t I hear them firing?
You are my most infuriating brother.
Reaper vaulted over a broken wall covered in some kind of crawling vine. He was careful not to touch the plant. This planet’s flora seemed just as dangerous as its creatures. Dem will be so disappointed, he told Treon. He likes to be the annoying one.
Instinct had Reaper ducking down an instant before a blade whipped through the space he’d just occupied. It pinged off of stone, skittering into a pile of rubble and disappearing. He rolled as two more blades followed the first, both of them ricocheting and spinning away.
Reaper?
Reaper didn’t answer Treon. He’d sunk deep into his Talent, letting the cold suffuse him. He let it leak across their link, a spread of frost Treon would recognize. Wisely, his brother went silent.
The hunt had begun.
Mercy jerked to a halt.
“What is it?” Cannon asked. He was never far from her side.
She shook her head. “I thought I heard something.” There was nothing but the wind, and the sound of turret fire growing ever closer. “Treon and Titus must have them pinned down.” They could see Heresy easily now, flying above the city and doing regular sweeps, pelting the area with turret fire. Some bolts stopped, sparking against an invisible barrier in midair. A telekinetic shield?
Smart. Thirteen and her crew needed the dropship. They would protect it all costs.
Mercy couldn’t help but think they had limited time before things would get much, much worse. This much noise, this much Talent. She could feel all of the minds around her, she could even feel those up ahead, though she couldn’t pick out individuals she wasn’t expressly bound to. With a hard swallow, she realized that now included Sebastian.
How soon before she sensed the approach of predators, drawn to the sounds of what they would view as prey?
“We need to move quickly.” She had the feeling they didn’t have long.
They continued forward for several minutes, until Ghost signaled for them to stop.
We’re close, Ghost said. I’m going to go in and scout.
Remember, Mercy reminded him, They have another ghost.
Reaper’s dog smiled wryly. Yeah, I know. That doesn’t mean he can see me, though. Stay here, get in cover. Plasma turrets go right through me in my other form. Not so much for you guys.
But as he spoke, the turret fire stopped. They all turned as a group, looking to the spot where Heresy hovered above them.
“Something’s wrong,” Feria said.
Declan stood up. “What the hell is going on with her drive?” He was right. The propulsion lights flickered off, and the sound of the ship’s drive became a high-pitched whine.
“Declan, get down,” Cannon said.
Feria grabbed Declan’s arm to tug him back down, but he jerked it free. “What the hell is wrong with my ship?”
It was clear something more than just the drive was the p
roblem. In the next few moments, everything turned off. The ship went dark. With horror, Mercy watched as it shuddered, and began to fall.
No one spoke. They crouched or stood frozen as they watched their only way off the planet fall through the sky.
Ghost suddenly turned, his face pale, his usual laconic look replaced with one of panic. “Move, move, move!”
With horror, Mercy realized they were within the impact zone of the falling ship. They scattered and ran.
“Good work, Desmon.” Thirteen nodded to him with satisfaction as they watched the ship fall. She hated wasting a vessel they might have taken, but those turrets had to go, and the crash would make an excellent distraction for her people to extract Mercy and go. She could see them from here, four, no five figures running to outpace the imminent crash.
Akyra looked drained. Only half Killer, her telekinesis was powerful enough she’d managed to defend the dropship and shield them all from the plasma bolts, but it had taken a lot out of her. Thirteen frowned, considering. The girl was unpredictable. She could recharge her, so to speak, but if she did that it would also grant a boost of euphoria that could lead to insubordination. Better to leave her as she was.
With a groan of screeching metal and a roar of sound like an earthquake, the ship hit ground.
“Akyra!” Thirteen called.
The girl threw a weary shield up between them and the rush of debris and dirt that came rolling in. She held it for a few minutes, and then it flickered out. Some dust continued toward them, but not as much as there would have been.
Thirteen coughed and covered her face.
“Akyra, with me. Koal, guard him.” She nodded to Sebastian’s prone form. “That should be easy for you, since he’s not going anywhere.”
He flinched, but nodded and said nothing. It had been his job to watch Octavia. The teleporter had used the ship’s attack as the perfect opportunity to ‘port out. Thirteen had miscalculated. When she strengthened Sebastian’s link to Mercy, she must have relaxed her hold on Octavia’s Talent just enough for the girl to escape.
“Desmon, find Mercy.” Kieran was no doubt already on it, but it was always good to have a contingency plan. She tossed a powered rifle to Desmon and took one for herself. The rounds would punch through most armor. Thirteen normally hated weapons, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t willing to use them when the situation called for it. This situation called for it.
Hopefully that crash had taken out a few of them, but if it hadn’t, she and her people were outnumbered.
Heresy fell from the sky and landed with a roar of sound and a tremor that toppled buildings and shook loose rubble. The wall Reaper crouched on slid. In the moment that it did, something slammed into him. He stabbed with one of his soul blades, letting himself fall. It skidded off some kind of armor. Shocked, he hesitated for a second too long.
No armor protected from a soul blade. None that he knew of, anyway.
The hesitation cost him. Instead of rolling as he should have when he landed, which would have carried him away from his opponent, they landed tangled together. The breath left his lungs in a woosh of air. Sharp pain cut through his side. He’d cracked ribs.
A knife cut thrust in. He blocked it and kicked the other man away. He rolled to his feet, but the other Killer might as well have been a ghost. He’d already vanished somewhere among the new configuration of fallen buildings and old streets.
Mercy coughed, trying to breathe through the amount of dust and dirt kicked into the air. How could there be so much when the ground was more than half mud?
She lay curled on her side. She’d been running, Cannon beside her, when a building had decided to fall on them. At least, that’s what it felt like. That was likely the source of the dust, more than the earth itself. The crumbling city. Which meant she was inhaling bits of mechstone and plasteel. Not great.
She did a mental sweep of her body, testing and feeling for any broken bones. Aches and pains, but nothing out of the ordinary for running and sliding across piles of rock, and then having a bunch more fall practically on top of her.
Cautiously she stretched out, moving to her hands and knees. “Cannon?” she called. Dust caught in her throat and she choked. She lifted an arm to her nose and mouth, trying to cover them with her sleeve.
Cannon?
Here.
Are you all right?
I’m still deciding. Give me a moment.
Mercy stood up. A haze of dust was everywhere, obscuring everything. Her head was pounding. She tried to focus her Talent and found everything was fuzzy. Did she have a concussion?
Feria? Ghost? Declan?
No one answered. Her heartbeat quickened. What if everyone was dead? What if they hadn’t moved fast enough, and the ship fell on top of them? What if—?
She forced herself not to reach for Reaper through sheer will. If he was in combat, a distraction at the wrong moment could prove fatal.
Max?
Here.
Relief rushed through that someone had answered. Are you all right?
We’re a little banged up, but just bruises, mostly. The ship’s a mess. Titus and Treon are trying to get power back so they can run a diagnostic. I’m stuck in my quarters. Uh, and Octavia’s here.
She is?
She teleported in a few minutes ago. She’s really upset she couldn’t grab Sebastian. She said he’s hurt, she thinks pretty bad. She didn’t have the strength to teleport with him.
Tell her I’m so glad she’s safe. Well, relatively safe. Don’t worry, we’ll get Sebastian. Your job now is to stay with her and keep her calm. Keep her with you. When Titus and Treon get power back, the two of you can help them work out how we’re getting that ship back into the air.
They had to get back into the air. They didn’t have a choice.
We’re on it.
“Mercy.” Cannon stood beside her. Dust and dirt covered him from head to toe, painting his dark hair a paler color, and smudging his skin. She was sure she didn’t look any better.
“The kids are all right,” she told him. “Octavia made it to Max. Treon and Titus are working on the ship.”
“Good. Are you all right?”
“I’m sure I look worse than I feel right now.” She looked around at the devastation. “Let’s get moving and find the others. That crash might scare away this planet’s predators, or for all we know, it might attract them.”
She started to move and then stopped, wondering why she felt oddly lighter. Then it hit her. Her pack was gone.
Just great. Now they had no supplies, and they didn’t know whether their ship would fly. Could this day get any worse?
No, don’t ask that. Never ask that, she told herself.
Together, she and Cannon made their way in the direction Mercy felt other minds, even if she couldn’t sense how many or who. She kept her sleeve over her mouth, breathing carefully. Despite the mud, the air was filled with dust from the fallen and destroyed buildings.
They came to a piece of wall that had fallen at an angle, blocking their path. It was low enough they could climb over. Mercy went to go first, but her knee didn’t want to cooperate. It throbbed in renewed pain.
“Here, take my hand.” Cannon held out his palm and she took it. He steadied her as she stepped up, crawling on top of the tallest edge. It was an awkward height. She let go of him and let herself slide down its length. She didn’t notice the body until she landed at the bottom, and even then it was so covered in mud and rock she didn’t recognize it at first. But she remembered those pants, that armored shirt. She couldn’t see his face, because it was underneath the wall.
Cannon slid down beside her. “Is that—”
She nodded dully. “Declan. He’s dead,” she said. It was obvious, but she couldn’t help saying the words out loud. She hadn’t particularly liked him, but that didn’t mean she was happy to see him gone.
Cannon put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll see him back home, when this is done.”
/> She nodded. “Let’s hope… let’s hope he’s the only casualty.”
They kept moving.
How long would it take this dust to settle? For all she could see, they could have been walking past a dozen ore dead bodies. She wouldn’t even know, because her Talent only sensed active minds.
The closer they got to the crash site, the closer they were to the dropship and Sebastian, but that meant Thirteen and her crew as well. They were already moving slowly, but caution slowed them even further.
A chill rolled over Mercy and she stopped dead. She touched Cannon’s arm, squeezing in warning. He froze.
She strained her senses, ignoring the way her head pounded. Something…there! The dust parted, and she saw two figures.
It was Reaper. She didn’t dare call out. He moved with a fluid grace and tight precision unlike anything she’d ever seen before. But his opponent was just as fluid. They flowed like a kind of dance, each step leading to another. Reaper’s blades struck with such speed she couldn’t make out individual attacks. The dust obscured too many details. His opponent seemed to anticipate each move, sliding out of the way almost casually. He ducked under Reaper’s arm and kicked out. Reaper stumbled, falling from view.
Mercy stepped forward, unable to stop herself.
The movement drew attention. She could feel it, feel the cold of the other Killer’s eyes on her. She froze, gaze stuck on the figure shrouded by the dust haze, watching her. It started forward and she backed up instinctively. Before the man made it two steps, he was suddenly stopping and turning, evading as a blade swept at him from behind. He and Reaper began their dance again.
Cannon urgently pulled at her arm. We have to go, Mercy. Now.
He was right, of course. This was exactly what Reaper wanted to avoid. But Mercy couldn’t make herself look away. Finally, Cannon grabbed her shoulders and shook her. Mercy! Now.
Nodding, she stumbled after him. She couldn’t resist one last look back as the dust swallowed them.
