The Lofties (The Echelon Book 2)

by Ramona Finn

  “Lemme just scan the dial. We can celebrate once we’ve found ‘em.”

  I nodded and stepped back, sniffling in spite of myself. Lock knelt in the dirt and ran up the frequency. The speaker sparked with static into the shortwave bands. I rubbed at my temples, reminded uncomfortably of Lazrad’s lab, that strange, buzzing hum. It had filled my whole head, like I was the radio. But what kind of broadcast—

  “—down the escarpment. We—”

  I yelped. “Was that—?”

  “From the radio.” Lock grabbed the receiver and hit TALK. “Hello? This is—this is, uh, we’re friendly. Can you hear us?”

  A faint voice piped up, then a harsh burst of static. Lock jiggled the dial, held the radio over his head. He barked into the speaker—hello? Hello?—but only white noise came back, hissing over the air.

  “It’s okay,” said Lock. “It’s a weak signal, is all. We just need to get close to the source, keep spiraling outward till we find where it’s coming from.”

  “That could take all day.” I grabbed the receiver, frustrated, and barked into the speaker. “It’s Myla. You know me. Call back if you’re—”

  Lock snatched the receiver back. “Don’t do that. Anyone could hear you.” He glared back toward Echelon. “Anyone at all.”

  “Then—” I dug in my pocket and pulled out my phone. “I’ll text Reyland. He can get them a message, maybe tell us where they are.”

  “No.” Lock lunged for my phone, but this time I was faster. I powered it on, thumbed it open, and it rang in my hand.

  “Don’t answer that!”

  My heart leaped. “It’s from Ona’s phone.”

  “You don’t know that’s her. Anyone could’ve—”

  I shouldered Lock back and hit accept. Ona’s hologram sputtered, too faint to make out. I shoved my face at the lens, wanting her to see me.

  “Ona? Ona? Are you there?”

  Her image blinked and took form, and all the breath fled my lungs in a rush.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Lady Lazrad.” I lurched back, spitting, holding my phone away from me like it had grown fangs. “Where’s Ona? What—”

  “Hang up.” Lock struck at my phone, batted it out of my hand. I lunged for it and we scuffled, on our knees in the dirt. I got my palm under his chin and sent him sprawling. He kicked sand at Lazrad’s hologram, and I snatched up my phone, shielding it with my body.

  “I’m here. Don’t go.”

  “It’s a trick,” groaned Lock. “She’ll just keep you talking till she can trace us.”

  “I don’t care.” I shuffled away from him, phone clutched tight. “Lady Lazrad? We’re listening. Just tell us—”

  “I know what you are.” Her voice lanced straight through me, an icicle to my guts. “You’ve helped yourself, somehow, to the Decemites’ gift. But that gift comes with responsibilities, which you’ve failed to—”

  “Responsibilities!” Lock spat the word in a harsh peal of laughter. Lazrad ignored him, her faint smile unchanged. I knelt still and dumbstruck, gravel digging into my knees. Lazrad stared through me with her strange, fish-pale eyes.

  “Responsibilities, yes. And you’ve failed to discharge any of those duties. Still, I’m not interested in vengeance, or in making an example of you. A Decemite’s worth is beyond measure, which means—well, you’ll see.” She stretched out her arms, as though she meant to embrace me. “Come home, and all will be forgiven. Make yourself useful, and you’ll see I can—”

  “Ona.” I swallowed. “What have you done with my sister?”

  “Haven’t you been listening?” Lazrad’s smile didn’t falter, but her tone turned cold. Colder. “I’ve invested a great deal in your sister,” she said. “She has value to me. As long as that’s true, I’ve no call to harm her. Your companion, on the other hand—”

  “Where is she? Let me see her.”

  “Your companion,” she repeated, and her gaze drifted to Lock. “Well, he’s leftovers, isn’t he? Used up and done.” Her smile widened, grotesque, and I scowled through my bafflement.

  “Leftovers? What does that even—where’s Ona?”

  “She’s just baiting you,” said Lock. “Hang up, and let’s—”

  “A gentle retirement. That’s how Elli puts it. Rocked to sleep in a cradle of flowers. Quite poetic, don’t you think?” Lazrad’s eyes darted to Lock again. “That’s what you could have had, if you’d had the sense to stay put. It’s a shame to flip your kill switch, given your exemplary service. But a Decemite among the rebels... oh, no. Can’t have that.”

  “Kill switch? What’s she talking about?” I rounded on Lock.

  “She’s baiting you. I told you. There’s no kill switch—at least, none she can access from there.” He grabbed for my phone again, but I dodged him easily.

  “Aren’t you getting tired?” Lazrad cocked her head. “It’s only been a few hours, but you should be feeling it in your joints. Don’t you ache? Don’t your lungs burn? Don’t you want to be sick?”

  Lock snorted, but his eyes narrowed. I saw doubt there, and fear, then he blinked them away. “Come on. Hang up. We don’t have time for this.”

  “A few hours from now, your lungs will lose their ability to convert sulfur dioxide to oxygen. You might think that’s plenty of time to make your way to a vent, but a few hours after that, you’ll see early signs of organ failure. Your vision will go, then your hearing, your touch. A few days from now—”

  Lock snatched up a screwdriver and raked it across his palm. Blood welled up, thick and purplish, starved of oxygen. It streamed down his arm and didn’t stop, fat drops pattering at his feet as his skin failed to heal.

  “Come home, and all this can stop. I’ll reactivate your nanobots, and—”

  I hung up on her. Lock stared at me in naked horror.

  “That update,” he croaked. “When we first got to Sky, me and Ona. She must’ve—”

  “Never mind that. We’ve got to go back.”

  “Back?” Lock grabbed hold of me, hot blood smearing my shoulder. “We can’t. You can’t. Whatever happens—if I’m dying, if I pass out—swear you won’t drag me back. Swear you’ll stay out of Echelon, as far as you can get.”

  “You’ll die.”

  “And so will you, if you go back. She’ll kill your bots too, or just shoot you in the head. That’s all she wants, to take out the threat. In her eyes, we’re the enemy. You’ve got to see that.”

  I pushed Lock off. Backed away. It hurt deep inside, like she’d kill-switched me too, guts churning with acid, my head throbbing red. “I can’t watch you die.”

  “I won’t make you.” Lock took my hands again, and his were ice-cold. “I’ll go somewhere—”

  “No.” I closed my eyes and saw Derrick, the moon shining in his eyes. I saw Lock in his place, just the shell of him, his dead hand in mine and no one there at all. My knees buckled and he caught me, and I bunched my fist in his shirt. My head buzzed with anger, a fury so bright I felt my teeth hum with it. It rose louder and louder, filled my ears and my skull—and it wasn’t coming from me. It wasn’t anger at all, but something foreign, intrusive, a trespasser in my head. My ears rang and crackled, and I jumped back with a cry. Lock steadied me, shouting through a mouthful of static, but I could feel it, that compass-tug, jerking me to the west.

  “It’s back, that signal. That feeling from the lab.”

  “What?”

  I spun toward it, and I saw it, a glint from the creek bed. A figure rose, then another, scrambling up the bank—two Decemites hurtling toward us, blasters drawn.

  “Get back.” I struck out at Lock, urging him behind me. He strode forward instead, palms up in supplication.

  “Hey—hey. You’re Jay, right? And that’s Cara with you? It’s us, Lock and Myla.”

  The Decemites exchanged glances. “We’re just the advance team,” called Cara. “The rest of our squad’s on the way.”

  Lock laughed. “To do what? You gonna shoot us?�
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  “If we have to. We know you’re traitors.” The Decemites spread out, moving to outflank us. I ground my teeth as they closed in, shook my head to clear the static. It blared louder instead, blunting all my senses. Lock’s heel bumped mine as we shifted into a defensive position, back to back.

  “Lazrad wants us alive,” I said. “How do you think that’ll play, you bringing back our bodies?”

  “Better than you bringing back ours.” Cara kept coming, but I saw how her shoulders tensed, how her grip tightened on her blaster. I nudged Lock in the elbow, lowered my voice to a murmur.

  “We should take them down now, before their backup shows up.”

  Lock didn’t answer. I realized he was shivering, trembling in the desert heat.

  “Lock?”

  An engine roared and backfired, past the ridge and getting closer. Cara charged and I reacted, elbowing Lock in the kidney. He went down without a sound. A bolt tore through my shoulder, where his heart had been a moment before. I bent almost double and bulled headfirst into Cara, knocking the breath from her body and the blaster from her hand. Jay fired again, missed, and I flung myself flat on my belly.

  “Lock! Get inside.” I scrambled toward him. He wasn’t moving, face down in the sand. My heart stuttered in my chest. “Lock.”

  Behind me, Cara stirred. I whirled on her, snarling. She went for her blaster, but I got there first. The static cleared as I dove for it, and I cried out in triumph. I snatched up my prize, and I smashed her across the jaw with it. The stock cracked, or her jaw did, and Jay roared out loud. I whirled on him, sharp now, in command of my senses. He was aiming again, eyes narrowed in concentration.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” I fired a half-circle at his feet. Jay shrieked, shrill and panicked, and I went for Lock.

  “Come on. Get up.”

  Jay fired again. I fired back and hit him, blood spraying from his knee. He crumpled in the sand.

  “Lock, please. We need to go.”

  Lock twitched. Lifted his head. He’d gone pale as milk, lips blue and mottled. I got my arm around him and dragged him toward the caves. He was wheezing, breath wet, rasping a warning into my chest.

  “Myla. Be... hind—”

  I shoved Lock through the fissure. Jay was up on his knees, groping for his blaster. I aimed straight for it, for the glow of its plasma tube. Jay squealed in agony as it came apart in his hands, shrapnel shredding his palms. He scrambled upright, only to stumble in his haste. He spun, almost gracefully, and his legs went out from under him, spilling him flat on his ass. I followed him, blaster raised.

  “No. Don’t—”

  “Three.” I flexed my finger on the trigger.

  Jay crabwalked backward, boots churning up sand.

  “Two.”

  He screamed. Covered his face. I shot out both his knees, then his feet for good measure. Jay was howling now, blubbing, clutching at his legs. I backed away, teeth bared.

  “Don’t follow me.”

  Jay whimpered. He drew his legs to his chest, and I saw he was young.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Just give it ten minutes. You’ll be okay, promise.”

  I left him sniveling in the sand and ducked through the fissure. Lock had dragged himself to cover and was slumped in an alcove with his head hanging between his knees. I dropped down beside him and reached for his hand. He flinched as I did, and I saw he was still bleeding.

  “Lock? Can you look at me?”

  “Mm.” He raised his head with an effort, eyes heavy and unfocused. “I—I’m okay,” he managed. “Just need a minute. Need to catch my breath.”

  “That’s right. Stay strong.” I put my hand on his shoulder and almost recoiled. He was clammy with sweat and cold to the touch, shivering so violently I thought he might fly apart.

  “I’m okay,” he repeated. “It looks worse than it is. Just shock, mostly. J—just—” He gagged and dry-retched, hunched over in pain.

  “Don’t try to talk.” I stood, sizing him up, gauging his weight. I could carry him, no problem, maybe down to the mine. Jam the elevator behind us—but the Decemites would only have to wait. There was no food down there, no water. Lock would get sicker. He’d need gretha, a doctor—

  “They’re coming,” said Lock. “You should go. Save yourself.”

  “Shut up. Don’t say that.” I edged closer to the fissure. That engine noise was louder now, bearing down on our hideout. Against two Decemites, I’d gotten lucky. A whole squad—

  Brakes squealed, and I heard shouts. Blaster fire flashed, somewhere outside. Lock found my hand and crushed it to his chest.

  “If you—if you get hurt... Because of me.” He gulped in a rattling breath. “Ona still needs you, so don’t you dare.”

  A loud crunch set my teeth on edge, the scrape of metal on stone. I pressed my lips to Lock’s forehead and flinched at how cold he was.

  “Hold on. Just hold on. I’ll be right back.”

  Lock’s head lolled to one side, spit streaking down his chin. I turned and bolted for the fissure, the fight rising in my blood.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I barreled through the fissure into a storm of noise and grit. The fight had started without me. Jay and Cara’s backup had arrived, but they had company. A truck roared by, tires screeching, its flatbed packed with Outsiders. A wave of grass and dirt crashed over me, and I dove behind a rock.

  I crouched there, eyes stinging, and the truck swung by again. It bore down on the Decemites like a game of chicken. I counted five of them now, all crouched behind their buggy. One of them held his ground, strafing the windshield till the last possible moment. He dove under the truck as it closed in on him, hands up to shield his head. The other four scattered and reformed to the rear. They loosed a volley of bolts, and a curl of rubber screamed past my ear. The truck spun wide, rear tire flapping.

  A voice rose, indistinct, as I belly-crawled from my hiding place. I circled behind it, through a curtain of dust, the yellow grass prickling my legs. I could hear them, the Decemites, fixing their bayonets to their blasters. They were moving into position, and I moved with them, elbows in the dirt.

  “The fugitives. You’re sure—”

  “They ran,” said Jay. “They’re gone.”

  “’Cause I don’t need any surprises. No—”

  A gunshot rang out, old-fashioned lead. One of the Decemites yelped in pain. I reached the creek bed and took cover, easing down the bank. I could see the Outsiders crouched behind their damaged truck. Two of them had blasters. The rest, I couldn’t tell. One of them jumped on the flatbed and flung something across the plain, something black and pear-shaped that shattered as it flew. Yellow fog caught on the breeze, and the Decemites coughed and spluttered. I tore a strip off my sleeve and tied it on like a mask. The gas got me anyway, through my eyes, down my nose, setting my whole face on fire. One of the Decemites dropped down, and he turned to the rest.

  “Breathe through it,” he said. “Don’t—”

  “My eyes.”

  I ground my teeth through the burning and scrambled back up the bank. Lead shot whizzed past me, covering me or aiming for me, I couldn’t tell. I streaked past the Decemites, headed straight for their buggy.

  “That’s her! Get her!”

  I turned and fired, loosing a flurry of blaster bolts over the Decemites’ heads. Jay and Cara ducked down. Their backup stormed after me, red-eyed, firing blind. I ran faster, eyes streaming, breath acid in my lungs. Something stung my ankle, and my next step felt wet. I didn’t look down. I kept my eyes on the buggy, on the keys in the ignition. On the stupid smiley keychain, still swinging on its hook.

  “Don’t shoot! She’s not—”

  I flung myself into the driver’s seat, twisted the key in the ignition. The engine roared and sputtered. I heard shouts, running footsteps, and I tramped on the pedal. Nothing happened—wrong one—and I jammed both feet home. Gears ground and shrieked, howling in my head. I let go of the brake, and my head bounced
off the seat. I was flying, engine roaring, headed straight for the mountains. Black filled my vision, sheer stone rising to greet me. I screamed, grabbed the steering wheel, and spun with all my might. I threw my whole body into it, shoulder to the seat. Sand and clumps of grass flew, and I ground my eyes shut. I felt my wheels leave the ground on one side, heard metal grate on stone. Grit stung my leg as the driver’s door tore loose, and then I was clear, speeding back toward the creek bed.

  I screamed again, raw with triumph. The Decemites were running, and I sped after them. Two of them dove over the bank, and I let them go. I swerved for the others, and they scattered. Lead whistled through the air, and one of the Decemites dropped from view. I hit another, sent him flying, and the last one dove under me, firing up through the floorboards. He missed me, and I whooped, swinging around for another pass.

  “—engine. Get her engine!” One of the Decemites was kneeling, drawing a bead on my buggy. I aimed for him, accelerating, hair whipping about my face. In that moment, he was nobody, just an obstacle in my path. Just the enemy, and I’d get him. I’d flatten him, and—

  His head blew apart, plasma flashing, blackening his shirt. He burned for a moment, then my tires bounced over his body. I slammed on the brakes and my chest hurtled into the wheel, the breath fleeing my body in one agonized cough. I slid out of the buggy, and my head struck the ground. I lay there, mouth gaping, the sun scorching my eyes. I rolled away from it, blinking, and curled in on myself. It hurt—hurt all over—and what had I done?

  “Myla? That you?”

  I lifted my head, sluggish—I still couldn’t catch my breath. My ribs had turned to fire, a burning band around my chest.

  “Hey. You okay? I didn’t hit you, did I?”

  I rolled over with an effort. Flopped flat on my back. My eyes swam, and I rubbed them. I could still taste that gas, like mustard and death.

  “You three get after them,” came another voice. “See them safe back to Echelon.” My heart leaped and fluttered, and I forced myself up on one elbow.