Strike

by D. J. MacHale

  “Statham,” he replied with no emotion.

  “Situation?”

  “Bad boys are circling. I’m to get you and three packages safely to Mayberry. Priority One.”

  “Good. Go.”

  Statham hit the accelerator, the music grew, and the vehicle launched forward.

  “Packages?” Tori said skeptically. “Mayberry? Isn’t that a little cloak and dagger?’

  “It’s a lot cloak and dagger,” Olivia said. “It’s what’s kept us alive.”

  Statham knew how to drive and it had nothing to do with being safe and obeying traffic laws. We screamed down the narrow street, forcing people to jump out of our way.

  Olivia pulled back a panel in the ceiling to reveal a sunroof. She wasn’t trying to get light. She was looking for the drones.

  “How far?” I asked.

  “The edge of the city,” Olivia answered. “In the industrial sector. Ten minutes away.”

  I realized she must have been talking about the area of the city I saw from the rooftop that was belching colorful smoke from tall stacks.

  Statham took a couple of quick turns, I assume to make it more difficult for us to be followed. I don’t know how he knew where he was going since every building looked exactly the same.

  “We’ve lost them,” Olivia finally said.

  “How did they find you in the first place?” I asked. “Just because they saw you on the roof?”

  “That must be how,” Olivia said. “I’ve never been under suspicion before.”

  We drove past the last of the tall buildings to find ourselves in a section of town that was cluttered with low industrial-looking structures, enormous tanks, and old-fashioned soot-belching smokestacks. I watched as they poured colorful, deadly clouds into the sky that fell back to earth as burning rain.

  “We’re going just beyond the sluice,” Olivia explained.

  “Sluice?” Tori said.

  “It’s a huge gutter for industrial waste. Every last one of the factories dumps its runoff into it. It’s disgusting. I don’t even know where it goes. Somewhere out in the desert. When we drive over it, don’t breathe.”

  “Over?” Kent said, nervously.

  We were headed directly toward a two-lane bridge that spanned the “sluice.” There were similar bridges spaced fifty yards apart, all crossing the wide river of filth. It looked to be a few hundred yards to the far side. We hit the bridge, which ramped up until we were speeding high over the foul-smelling sludge. Looking over the edge we saw it was a long way down to the dreck, which was just as well. It smelled bad enough from where we were. If we were any closer it would have been impossible to breathe.

  “Once we’re over, Mayberry is only another minute—”

  “Communicator,” Statham said, holding out his hand to Olivia.

  “What?” Olivia asked, thrown.

  “Give me your communicator.”

  Olivia wasn’t sure of how to react. Reluctantly, she handed it to the driver.

  He took the black device . . . and smashed it against the dashboard, destroying it.

  “Are you crazy?” Olivia screamed.

  “That’s how they’re tracking you,” Statham said, and pointed up through the sunroof.

  We all looked up to see a black Air Force drone hovering above us.

  “We’re trapped on this bridge,” Kent said.

  The drone started firing, blasting out chunks of the roadbed around us.

  Statham swerved, doing his best to become a difficult target. It seemed futile, considering it was only a two-lane bridge.

  “Faster!” Olivia screamed.

  No sooner did she get the word out than the vehicle was rocked by a shot from the craft that hit the bridge directly in front of us. It was too close for Statham to avoid. He spun the wheel and we slipped into a dangerous skid, hitting the damaged section. The vehicle flipped, doing a complete rollover before skidding closer to the edge.

  The squeal of metal scraping across cement was deafening. Or maybe it was the sound of Kent screaming. We skidded nearer to the edge until we finally came to rest back upright, but with our front wheels dangling over the edge of the bridge.

  It all happened so fast that I didn’t have time to be scared.

  “Get out!” Olivia screamed.

  She didn’t wait to find out if anybody was hurt or knocked out or even dazed. She knew what was at stake. We were totally exposed with an attack plane on the prowl . . . and we were inside a car powered by a nuclear engine that had just been tumbled. The sound of the engine powering up was unmistakable. Those engines were fragile. We saw what happened in Portland when a drone was rammed by a car. You didn’t want to be anywhere near one if it exploded, and this engine sounded as though it was headed in that direction.

  Luckily, Tori and Kent were conscious and still with it. We all yanked off our seatbelts and dove out of the car. Without our weight, the vehicle shuddered and slid further over the edge of the bridge. It was either going to explode, or fall into the polluted abyss. Or both. We all sprinted back to the ramp that led onto the bridge.

  All of us but Statham.

  “Wait, the driver,” Kent screamed and slowed down.

  Statham was still in the doomed vehicle.

  We stopped to look back to see that the man was strapped in the front seat, his head tilted to the side, unconscious . . . as the vehicle slipped closer to the edge.

  Far in the distance, hovering above the bridge was the Retro drone. It remained there as if watching and waiting to see what would happen with the vehicle.

  “We can’t leave him there,” Tori yelled with desperation.

  “Yes we can,” I shouted. “He may be dead already. C’mon.”

  I tried to pull Tori away, but she wouldn’t go.

  I was out of my mind. In those few seconds all I could think about was the Sounders and the one chance we would have to save our world. Millions of people had died. Millions more would follow. I didn’t want to leave Statham there either, but he was just one man. We couldn’t jeopardize the entire future for the fate of one person.

  “We have to get out of here!” I screamed.

  I tried to pull Tori away but she wouldn’t budge.

  “We can’t leave him,” she argued.

  Kent didn’t argue with me.

  He sprinted back to the vehicle.

  “Whoa no!” I shouted.

  Kent had his head down and his legs pumping. He went right to the driver’s door and tried to yank it open. The damage from the rollover must have jammed the lock. Kent pulled like a mad man but it wouldn’t budge.

  Behind him, the attack plane started to make its move. It dipped down low and picked up speed, headed our way.

  “Kent, get out of there!” I yelled.

  Kent hammered on the glass with his fists but it wouldn’t break. He threw his shoulder into it but only bounced back.

  Tori pulled away from me and started back toward him but I grabbed her and stopped her.

  “They’ll be killed,” she screamed.

  “And so will you.” I shouted, “Kent! It’s coming!”

  The attack plane was picking up speed.

  “Kent, run!” Olivia yelled.

  That got through to him. Kent glanced to the sky, saw the plane, and stumbled away from the vehicle. He was breathing hard and crying and could barely keep his balance but he ran back our way.

  “Get down!” Olivia shouted.

  Kent half fell/half dropped to the ground.

  A second later the drone fired. The invisible pulses of energy shot toward the doomed car. When they hit they knocked it onto its side and triggered a fiery explosion that created a wave of intense heat that hit us like a fast-moving truck. The force instantly knocked us all to the ground.

  The burning v
ehicle teetered on the edge of the bridge for an agonizing second, then with the shriek of tearing metal it dropped over the side, fell quickly, and then crashed into the chemical river far below. The instant it hit it ignited the sludge, creating an inferno beneath us.

  The drone continued on, gained altitude, and streaked off.

  “Why is it leaving?” I asked nobody. “Does it think we’re dead?”

  Olivia got to her feet and ran for Kent.

  “I hope to God he’s okay,” I said to Tori.

  Tori was staring at me with such cold eyes it made me gasp to catch my breath.

  “You all right?” I asked.

  I stood, gingerly, and held out my hand to help her up.

  Tori didn’t take it. She stood up on her own and staggered toward Olivia and Kent.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked.

  “You didn’t want to help him,” she said coldly.

  I pulled myself to my feet and followed.

  “He was as good as dead already,” I argued.

  “And what’s one more death, right?” she said angrily.

  She was wrong. Kent was wrong. Statham’s death was tragic, but it was nothing compared to the larger challenge. We were trying to save millions of people. It would have been wrong to risk our lives—and our entire future—to save one individual. I truly believed that.

  When we reached the others, Olivia was on her knees holding Kent’s head. I was relieved to see Kent’s eyes open and focused on her.

  “He was still alive,” he cried, fighting back tears. “He looked at me but he couldn’t move. I tried to open the door but—”

  “I know,” Olivia said, soothingly. “There was nothing you could do.”

  “I’m proud of you, Kent,” Tori said.

  “I’m proud of you all,” came a voice from behind us. “Together again. This is so absolutely awesome.”

  I suddenly knew why the drone had flown off. It didn’t think we were dead. It left because it was no longer needed.

  Standing on the bridge, flanked by two armed Retro soldiers, was Mr. Feit.

  SIXTEEN

  We were done.

  While Feit’s soldiers kept their weapons aimed at our heads, several Retro vehicles showed up behind them. Feit wasn’t taking any chances. Now that he had us, he wasn’t going to risk losing us again. We were each taken by a different armed soldier, loaded into separate vehicles, and driven away from the burning river. It was like being imprisoned in a rolling steel cage. I wanted to scream. Or punch the roof.

  Or better yet, put my fist through Feit’s smug smile.

  We had come so close to learning about the Sounders’ plan to stop the invasion. Olivia said they needed us for it to work. Since Feit had us, did that mean the plan was finished? Was the last hope of stopping the invasion gone? That seemed likely because now that the Sounders had revealed themselves, the Retros were actively hunting them down.

  Everything was unraveling.

  Though it was impossible to tell one city street from the next, I could see where we were headed. They were taking us back toward the dome. When we neared the giant structure, the line of vehicles turned into the open garage door of a tall, plain building. We stopped inside the large, empty garage, where I was pulled out of the car and manhandled into the building. With two Retro soldiers flanking me and holding my arms, I was hurried down a long corridor and pushed into a tiny room that looked like a prison cell. There were two cots with thin mattresses, a steel sink, and a toilet.

  A second later, Tori was shoved in behind me and the heavy steel door was closed and locked with gut-wrenching finality. Nobody had said a word to us since we were on the bridge. We had no idea if we were going to be there for a few minutes, a few hours, or the rest of our lives.

  The two of us stood there awkwardly and more than a little dazed. After a few moments Tori dropped onto one of the cots and curled up with her arms hugging her legs. She wasn’t crying. Tori never cried. She sat there silently, staring at the wall.

  “We don’t know anything about the Sounders’ plan,” I said. “They can ask us whatever they want but there’s nothing we can tell them. Then again, Olivia knows everything. If they make her talk the plan might be—”

  “Stop, all right?” Tori snapped at me. “It’s over. Stop pretending like it isn’t.”

  “We can’t give up hope.”

  “Hope for what? Humanity? Hope that we can change the way these people think? This is a society of animals who will do whatever it takes to survive, even if it means murdering billions of people. There’s no coming back from that. This really is hell, and it has nothing to do with the living conditions.”

  “What about the Sounders?” I asked.

  “What about you?” she shot back.

  “Me?”

  “You didn’t care that the driver was about to die.”

  “He was beyond help, Tori,” I argued. “Kent almost died for nothing.”

  “At least he tried,” she said flatly.

  “Are you serious? You’re angry at me for not risking everything to try to help a guy who was as good as dead already?”

  “I’m not angry,” she said. “I’m confused. We’re condemning the Retros for invading the past to save themselves. We’re amazed that they have such little regard for human life, but we’re just as willing to let people die to get what we want.”

  “It was one guy!” I argued.

  “It wasn’t just one guy,” she said, her voice growing more urgent. “How many died when we sabotaged that Retro fleet? I shot people myself. I think about that all the time. What makes you think we’re any better than the Retros?”

  “This is crazy. We’re talking about the difference between a few people and a few billion. This is war, Tori. People die. We didn’t start it. We’re just protecting ourselves. You should know that. Of all people. You’re the one whose father taught her how to shoot guns to protect herself. Why are you getting squeamish now?”

  “I’m not squeamish. I’m . . . messed up. And I’m bothered by how quickly we’ve accepted the killing, especially if it serves our own purpose.”

  “It was one guy, Tori,” I said.

  “Okay, it was one guy. Tell me the truth. If you could press a button that would end the invasion, protect our time, and save the survivors, would you do it?”

  “Of course,” I replied. “Who wouldn’t?”

  “Even if it meant that by pressing that button you would wipe out the entire population of 2324?”

  The question froze me.

  “That’s not fair,” I said.

  “Why not? I’m giving you the same choice the people of this time had. They’re willing to destroy the population of an entire planet in order to save their own people. Would you do the same thing? To save your father and mother? To protect Pemberwick Island? Would you do it?”

  I didn’t have an answer. I had to examine my own thoughts and conscience in a way I never could have imagined a few weeks before.

  Tori added, “It’s a choice between survival and morality. Which is more important?”

  I spoke slowly because I was forming my thoughts along with the words.

  “Before any of this happened I would have said no,” I answered. “But I see things differently now. If I had to choose between survival and morality, the choice is simple. It’s kill or be killed. Yes. I’d push the button.”

  Tori gave me a sad chuckle. “That’s what I thought.”

  “What about you?” I asked. “Wouldn’t you push it?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “I see things a little differently too. Before any of this happened I probably would have pushed it. But now that I’ve seen how truly ugly people can become, I want to be better than an animal who lashes out when backed into a corner.”

  “So you’d sacrifice your
self, and the people you love, because you think it’s immoral to fight back?”

  “Oh no. I’m more than willing to fight back,” she said with confidence. “You know that. What I won’t sacrifice is my humanity. Without that, we’re just like the animals the Retros think we are.”

  I wasn’t sure how I should feel. Was Tori being ridiculous? The survival instinct is as basic as the need for food and water, and the strong survive. That had been true since the beginning of time. Nobody should have to apologize for protecting themselves. But did that mean anything is justified, no matter how heinous, in the name of survival? Were the Retros justified in wiping out the population of the past? The action, or lack of action through time, to prevent this disaster is what created their nightmare world. The Retros considered that to be an attack that was just as lethal as the drones they sent back to destroy the population. Were they only fighting back?

  “I guess it all depends on your definition of humanity,” I said. “And how badly you want to survive.”

  “I want to survive,” she said. “But I also want to be able to live with myself.”

  The heavy door opened and an armed Retro soldier stepped in.

  “Come with me,” he ordered.

  I thought of refusing but realized there wasn’t any point to it.

  Tori shrugged and got up. The guard led us out of the cell and motioned for us to walk along the corridor. He stayed behind us, ready to shoot if we dared to make an aggressive move. None of the doors we passed had windows so I couldn’t look in to see where Olivia and Kent were being held. At the end of the hallway was a stairway that we climbed for three stories, ending up in another nondescript corridor, this one filled with more activity. Retro soldiers hurried about, moving from room to room.

  The guard directed us to a door toward the end of the corridor and motioned for us to enter. Tori and I stepped in, followed by the guard, who entered and closed the door behind us.

  We were in a sparsely furnished office with a single desk. Unlike the dungeon cells, this room had a window. It looked out onto the silver dome, which was not exactly a pleasant view. The wall to our left was covered with a map of the world. The continents were barely recognizable since they had changed so much from our time.