Renegade: The Ten Sigma Series Book 2

by A W Wang

  I meet the dead stare of Flying Eagle’s good eye before dropping my gaze to the long slashes covering his bloodied, naked torso. I drop my load and holler, “Javier, Manuel, Alberto! Come out.”

  The door of a nearby building creaks open, and the three teenagers emerge with hunched postures. More scars cover their armor than when I saw them last, but they aren’t any worse for the night of battle.

  Happy and more than a little amazed to see them still alive, I indicate the macabre sight. “Did you have to torture him like that?”

  “He did that to many,” Javier protests. The other two add vigorous nods.

  I hold my rebuke as images of the dead hanging from the trees near the main Liberation Front camp pour through my mind.

  Exactly what Flying Eagle did to those poor souls.

  “He deserved a lot more,” Javier says to my silence.

  I frown, agreeing with the assessment, but hating how this brutal world even corrupts the young.

  Flowery words about the merits of deserved and not deserved having little bearing on punishments flitter through my thoughts.

  I sigh.

  With the sentences I’ve meted out during the fighting, I’m no better.

  I killed Samantha when I could have run.

  Did she deserve that?

  I shake my head, hoping I’m wrong. If anything, ten sigmas are resilient, and she might have survived the terrible wound.

  Too big a part of me hopes that’s true.

  My attention turns to the more practical. “How did you know where to find me?”

  Javier gives a nervous rub to his birthmark, glancing at the other two.

  “Well?”

  “The same way we found Flying Eagle. We put a tracker on your speeder…”

  When I raise an eyebrow, he hurriedly finishes, “We only activated it after we finished with him.”

  “Come with me,” I say in a no-nonsense tone as I grab my boxes.

  They sheepishly follow down the driveway. Nobody spares the hanging corpse a second glance as we enter the garage.

  The silence stretches while we walk through beams of sunlight, courtesy of fresh holes in the walls and ceiling.

  When we reach the garbage pile hiding the speeder, Alberto runs past and places his fingers under the front wheel’s expandable cowling. A moment later, his hand pops out, holding a thumb-sized film.

  I set down my load and take an annoyed breath of the fetid air. Then I glare at them until their expressions become suitably contrite. “Is there anything else I should know?”

  Their heads whip from side to side.

  I nab the device and toss it onto the trash heap. Without giving them another look, I pick up my metal boxes.

  As I strap them onto the back of the speeder, Javier asks, “What’s in those?”

  “A few goodies are in the first box,” I reply. “The second has things I’ll need to fix this”—I tap the black scars covering the battle-mesh—“and a few others to make weapons.”

  “We…,” Javier says, looking to his companions.

  Drips from a busted water pipe fill the quiet as the teens summon their courage to ask some question I’m sure I don’t want to answer.

  “I don’t have all day. Out with it,” I say impatiently.

  Javier blurts, “We’d like to come with you.”

  A moment passes while I stare with disbelief. “Absolutely not,” I reply, shaking my head.

  Manuel steps forward. “Why?”

  “Everywhere I go, there’s going to be trouble. A lot of people have died around me.” I sigh. “A lot of people will die around me. I don’t want any of you to be any of them.”

  “It’s dangerous everywhere,” Alberto says.

  “Most of all, around me.”

  “You can’t do what you’re going to do alone,” Javier says.

  “Oh? Do you know what I’m going to do?”

  He shakes his head. “But I know you can’t do it alone.”

  “What can you do that I can’t?”

  The teen pulls a round device from his pocket. “This is a hologram emitter to cover our exit.”

  “There aren’t any drones left,” I reply. “And if there were, that wouldn’t be strong enough.”

  “You still need to avoid the satellites.”

  I purse my lips. He’s right.

  “We’re good spies,” Manuel adds. “Nobody can be in two places at once.”

  He’s right too.

  “And we know the land and the people,” Alberto chimes in.

  My thoughts whirl as I rub my forehead, searching for reasons to turn them away. “I don’t want to be responsible for getting you killed.”

  “This is our decision,” Javier replies as the other two voice their agreement.

  When I don’t answer, he adds, “Perhaps, it’s not dying but doing your best when you’re alive?”

  My lips tighten. Even though in 2065 there are no good guys, not everyone is bad either. And by extension, while these three aren’t the greatest allies I could have, I could do a lot worse.

  “If I let you go with me, you have to do exactly as I say at all times, or I’m leaving you. Understood?”

  They reply with eager nods.

  “Okay,” I say in a tired voice, “you can come along.”

  Genuine smiles pop across their young faces, and I inwardly frown.

  Javier says, “Where to?”

  I pause, unprepared for the question. “What’s the worst place you know of?”

  “The badlands by the ocean south of Los Angeles.”

  “Then that’s where we’re heading.”

  After they retrieve their speeders from the opposite corner of the garage, we rev up our engines and engage the holograms.

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re stealthily roaring westward on a long highway.

  As the smoky ruins of New Austin fade in the rear-view mirror, I glance at my three companions.

  Although barely more than boys, Javier, Manuel, and Alberto are a start for the allies I’ll need in this war.

  And everybody, even a ten sigma, needs friends.

  Sixty-Four

  A damp breeze chills the crumbling room.

  I frown.

  The drop in temperature and increased humidity herald the sliding of autumn into winter. Weeks have passed since the great battle in New Austin without even a peep from the powers in New Washington, D.C.

  Until now…

  My gaze roams past the broad gap in the front wall and into the formerly quaint neighborhood of two and three-story structures. Ugly scars and ragged holes cover any facades that haven’t been devoured by blast craters. Like the rest of this forsaken territory, these gutted shells stand as mute witnesses to the many clashes fought to dominate the area. Combatants pulverized the place with the entire spectrum of weapons—from simple guns to more exotic EM rifles and rockets.

  None of the winners are still around.

  I listen for anything out of the ordinary.

  Besides soft winds blowing from the ocean, only stillness blankets the desolate streets.

  Javier slides next to me. I know the answer before he says in huffy breaths, “He’s alone and unarmed.”

  I stride to the blasted front of the apartment and lean past a water-stained column.

  Bright sunlight angles over the broad avenue below. Past the weeds growing from cracks in the faded pavement sits a lone figure at the end of the street.

  Silvery battle-mesh glitters over his fit body.

  I place my configurable carbine on a worn throw rug and start pulling blades and throwing stars off my battle-mesh.

  Javier touches my shoulder. “You’re not going out there, are you?”

  “He’s here to deliver a message. This is a truce.”

  After I set my last weapon on the pile, the teenager tries again. “I’ve never seen anyone move that quickly, except for you.” His hand slides over his throat in a slicing motion. “He could have killed me a
s easily as sending the invitation.”

  Another breeze blows, colder than the last.

  I brush hair from my cheek and wait, fighting the urge to shiver.

  My nape stays quiet.

  “I can’t explain why, except to say I know him, and I trust him. He’s here to do what he says—deliver a message. Stay here with Alberto and Manuel and watch my stuff.” I jab my finger at him. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

  He glares but doesn’t offer any further objection.

  I drop onto the sidewalk and hop past a fallen hunk of concrete. As I cross to the center of the street, Peter rises and sends a casual wave. “Hello, Mary.”

  “Hello, Peter.”

  The perpetual smile forms across his face.

  Although relieved by the welcoming expression, I slowly walk toward him, keeping my guard up.

  The ten sigma is the weapon.

  As I approach, Peter stays still, radiant and godlike, his battle-mesh gleaming in the sunlight.

  Resisting an impulse to wipe dust from my outfit, I cover the final distance and stop a few steps from him.

  “You’re a hard person to find,” he says. “I’ve been searching for three weeks.”

  “Not hard enough.”

  “Please, give me some credit. I am a ten sigma.”

  I nod.

  That he is.

  He holds out a hologram tablet. “This is from Victoria.”

  I stare at the device, narrowing my eyes with suspicion.

  “It’s clean. No traps. No trackers. She only wants to talk.”

  When I reach out, he steps forward and extends his arm.

  “Victoria will call soon.”

  When my fingers close around the edge, he doesn’t let go. Instead, his lips quiver.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Samantha died.”

  A tired breath leaves my mouth, and my thoughts turn bleak at the truth I was avoiding.

  I killed her.

  “Peter, I’m sorry.”

  His eyes grow moist. “Why did you do that?”

  “She was trying to kill me. I had no choice.”

  “You could have surrendered.”

  I shake my head, thinking of the consequences. “That was never going to happen.”

  He releases the tablet, and his hands ball. “She’s dead. Ten sigmas are never supposed to die.”

  “Peter—”

  Hatred settles into his eyes. “I shouldn’t have let you pass on that staircase.”

  Still holding the device, I step backward, surprised by the rage.

  “I was wrong to help you. Samantha would be alive if I had stopped you from leaving the city.”

  In a calm tone, I reply, “You helped a friend, and we’re still friends, right?”

  He holds his hands near his head. “She was my first, the person who welcomed me into the real world. And you murdered her.”

  I face my free hand toward him, trying to defuse the situation. “I can’t live the way you do. Not under those rules.”

  Tension rolls across his body, and he takes a step forward. “If I had done my duty…”

  I tense, ready to protect myself.

  Shuffles come from behind.

  “Hold,” I scream, shoving my arm out to the side. Still looking at Peter, I say, “Javier, Manuel, Alberto, don’t make another move.”

  When the motions stop and only soft breathing comes from the teens, I return my attention to my former ten sigma friend.

  “What’s your mission, Peter?”

  He blinks. “What?”

  “Your mission? What are your orders?”

  “Deliver the device to Mary.”

  “And then?”

  His gaze lowers. “Go home.”

  “And you can’t fight unless you’re defending yourself.”

  He nods.

  Quietly, I say, “Complete your mission. Go home.”

  “I loved Samantha,” he whispers. “One day, I’ll have different orders, and I won’t stop until you’re dead.”

  Even though there won’t be a better time to kill him, I inwardly sigh.

  What would be the cost?

  In a battle between two ten sigmas, the whole area would be lethal. Although Peter’s unarmed, there are fifty objects in the street he could use as a weapon. And he’s wearing battle-mesh.

  The teens have moved to where they think they can help me, but in reality, they’ve only brought themselves into range of a wrathful Peter.

  Not to mention that I don’t want to kill him. I might need to one day, but not now.

  Peter doesn’t move, only anticipating my next action.

  I sigh. “I’m not fighting you.”

  “You have every advantage,” he says, pleading.

  “Carry out your orders.”

  After an indignant breath, he swivels. As he marches away, he twists his head, saying, “You’re not the butterfly I thought you’d be when I let you out of that cage. You’re not one of us. You’re some kind of demon.”

  Finally accepting the chasm between me and the ten sigmas, I reply, “You’re right about one thing, Peter. I’m not a ten sigma, and I’m happy about it. I’m going to make my own decisions.”

  “We’re the gods of this world.”

  I chuckle. “No, you aren’t. You’re a slave to people who you think are inferior.”

  His steps slow.

  Tingles rush over my skin, and part of me hopes he turns and disobeys his mission directive. In a louder voice, I say, “Welcome to the real world. This is a harsh place, and it’s more than just proper welcomes and killing people on missions.”

  The silvery form hesitates, but before my excitement rises too high, he continues onward and disappears around a corner.

  I blow out a breath of disappointment.

  Javier edges to my side. “El Diablo.”

  A moment passes before I realize he isn’t talking about me. With slow shakes of my head, I reply, “No, not a devil, just a little boy who’s lost.”

  He purses his lips, seeking the meaning in my words. “Will he be back?”

  “I hope not.”

  Manuel steps near. “Why did he come?”

  I glance at the glass tablet, unsure of what Victoria could possibly want to speak about, and more unsure if I want to hear it.

  As the last slivers of sunlight glint against the ragged skyscrapers of the dead city, deepening shadows engulf the industrial park.

  The neverending scenario continues…

  After the coming night darkens the patchy clouds, I turn and head toward the reds of dusk. The area has been abandoned for some time, and I gingerly wend through an array of rusty structures with corrugated walls and broken windows. When I reach the warehouse, I march around the faded exterior, inspecting the triggers of our early warning system.

  Everything is as it should be.

  Satisfied, I step inside the temporary abode and yank the heavy sliding door closed.

  I wrinkle my nose.

  The stagnant air is musty from trickles of rainwater and laced with the stench of decay.

  Brittle pieces of a path formed from drywall crumble under my boots as I walk over puddles of sludge and past long-dormant factory equipment.

  After inspecting the speeders and our detection dampeners, I wave goodnight to my exhausted charges and clomp upstairs to an overhead office. As I reach the doorway, gunfire barks from beyond the boundary fence.

  Even though nothing in this area should trouble me, I wait, watching shadows creep over the grimy floor.

  My nape remains silent, and soon, all is quiet.

  I turn from the darkness below and step inside the office.

  When I flick on a capsule light, the thin cone of illumination crawls up a cracked wall and past a bank of frosted windows. Soft hums come from the corner where the shiny machines I took from New Austin slowly churn out new weapons. Everything else is discolored from an age of neglect, except for—

  Lights
flash and a chirp comes from the worn desk. The glass tablet Victoria sent has been hawking for attention the entire afternoon.

  Instead of responding, I wander to a spider web spread near the back corner. I lean and gently pinch my fingers around the eight-legged creature. After a moment’s thought, I march to the doorway and toss it outside.

  Although the hollow gesture feels like something I should do, the trite action does little to absolve me of my other deeds.

  With a huff, I shut the door and walk to the corner where I pull out a tube of blue liquid from a box. I down the syrupy mixture in a gulp.

  The surge of energy feels too comfortable and right.

  Another chirp arrives from the insistent device.

  Frowning, I head to the desk.

  A speckled pattern bounces across the screen, highlighting a commlink request.

  I sigh in exasperation. What’s the upside to answering?

  Nothing, only bad can come from this…

  I should destroy the damn thing out of spite.

  Yet…

  Whatever Victoria wants, she was willing to risk a ten sigma as the messenger.

  The choices war in my mind before curiosity emerges as the victor over common sense.

  I pick up the tablet and touch the activation button.

  Victoria’s pleasant face appears in vivid hologram form. A moment passes before her gray eyes focus, and her lips curl into a smirk.

  “Mary, I’m so happy you activated the channel.”

  “What do you want, Victoria?”

  The holo-emitter perfectly conveys the smugness underlying her expression as she sympathetically says, “I want you to understand, I meant what I said. I didn’t want things to turn out this way.”

  “Is that you or the jacket talking?”

  “Me.”

  “I guess that makes everything okay then.”

  A group of high-ranking officials shuffles nearby, chattering happily. Victoria acknowledges their greetings with a polite wave. After they wander off, she returns to the conversation.

  Her eyes quiver. “You’ve left quite the mess in New Austin, but I suppose that’s what an unsupervised ten sigma would do.”

  “I’m sorry to have ruined your plans.”

  “While I appreciate your sarcasm, your unexpected victory helped me more than I could have imagined.”