by T. C. Edge
It sounds, too, like they’re used to this sort of work: escorting hybrids to the REEF. I wonder if one or the other was part of the team to snatch Amelia away from Adryan several years ago.
The thought has me closing my eyes and turning to my memories. I feel a swell of purpose and power at the clarity with which they appear. I glide back a couple of weeks, to when I entered Adryan’s mind and saw that awful event play out. And reviewing it again, I quickly examine the faces of the little force of guards sent up to their apartment to take her.
Then, opening my eyes once more, I can’t help but look up to them in a flash as they continue their discussion. With my returning powers, I see through my peripheral vision that they’re no longer looking at me, but each other. I take my chance and get a better look, and see one face that does ring a bell.
The Hawk on the right, with narrow, intense brown eyes and a thin and prickly jaw. He was there that day. It must be a specialism of these men to extract such people as me.
Before they look back down at me, I turn my eyes away again, and remove the hatred from within them, replacing it with fear and sadness once more. My appearance seems to give them some pleasure. They laugh at me, tossing a few insults my way.
Insults that bounce straight off my hard skin.
But ones that I’ll remember…for when the time comes.
Turning my eyes back down, I begin to take closer account of the motion of the vehicle, still maintaining a fairly constant speed to suggest we’re still in Inner Haven. Only when it begins to slow, and then stop entirely for a moment, do I realise that we’ve arrived at the western gate linking the two parts of the city.
Moments later we’re across the wall. Back in Outer Haven.
And now, I have to think of a plan…
In the darkness, my mind begins speeding through my options. The men ahead of me will present no challenge. They’re merely Hawks, and while they’re heavily armed, the antidote that’s now surging through my veins has made me more than a match for both of them.
The two Stalkers in the front, however, will present far more of a problem. They will no doubt be stronger and faster than me, bred for the specific purpose of war and death. I will have little to no chance against either of them in a one-on-one fight, and no chance whatsoever against them both.
I have to be smart. I have to use what I have, use my knowledge of the streets of the western quarter. As soon as we reach the outer districts, near the western gate to the outerlands, I’ll have to take my chance. It will be my only shot before we pass through the outer gate.
The van now begins to slow occasionally, even stopping as the morning traffic begins to grow heavier. We’ll be closer to the academy now, so close I can almost smell its unique scent of stale smoke and unwashed clothes, moving directly through district 5 just south of Brick Lane.
Outside, I know it will be busy, the streets too populated to try anything here. I can’t risk causing a firefight with so many innocent people around. Only when we get to the less populous outer districts can I consider making my move.
My restraints will need to go first. I can’t do anything with my wrists bound together as they are. Turning my eyes up, I search for some key in the possession of either of the Hawks.
Was it them, or the Stalkers, who set the cuffs to my wrists?
I can barely remember, everything happening in a rush. If the Stalkers have the keys, my burgeoning plan might just fail. I look again, but see no key, and then spend a moment inspecting my restraints a little more closely.
And in doing so, I realise that they’re not unlocked by a key at all, but by a thumb-print, set to the locking mechanism between my wrists. The question is: do these City Guards have the authority to unlock them?
I guess we’ll find out soon…
The van continues to grind through the busiest section in the city, before I feel it turning again, working its way down quieter streets and off the main roads.
Its speed begins to pick up, signalling our growing proximity to the outer wall, the bright lights of the central and inner districts of the western quarter being left behind.
And in the pitch dark of my mobile cell, a blackness that my Hawk-eyes are now able to fully penetrate, I begin to put my plot into action.
With my eyes still low, I take a breath, and then quickly dart my gaze straight up to the Hawk sitting ahead of me on the left.
The two men are still in conversation, their own gaze now less strictly stuck to their little captive sitting on the uncomfortable metal floor.
But now I need to catch their eyes. First one, and then the other, needs to stare straight at me.
And first, it’s the man on the left.
My eyes lift, the movement of my gaze towards where he sits doing the job I hoped it would. His own peripheral vision catches it in a bare millisecond, and before the other Hawk can turn his eyes to me too, I make eye contact with my first target.
I dive straight into his feeble mind without hesitation, and before he can even realise that my powers are returning, I have him under my spell.
But I don’t force him to attack his partner. I don’t order him to raise his weapon and shoot the man in the heart or the head. I don’t do that, because it would only be my undoing.
Within seconds, I know, the van would stop, the Stalkers would march around to the back, and quickly disable the man I took under my control. They’d know of my plot immediately, and would simply take the necessary steps to ensure that my Mind-Manipulator powers could not be used against them.
In short, it would be game over.
So, I take the smarter route instead, and I simply call out into the Hawk’s mind…
You will adhere to all my verbal commands. You will do everything I ask without hesitation or question.
I issue the command with clarity and conviction, and see it quickly wash away into the vacant recesses of his mind. He’s no Savant, but merely a dim-witted Hawk, and has absolutely no protection against the sort of powers I possess.
And as the order takes hold, I turn my eyes straight to the Hawk on the right, the one who was present that day when poor Amelia was dragged from her home. He’s only just realising what’s going on, and just before he can call out a warning to the Stalkers, or even turn his eyes away from my gaze in defence, I fill his head with the same exact order.
And within seconds only, both members of the City Guard are now completely under my command.
Once more, my considerable abilities have grown powerful under stress, the life or death nature of my predicament forcing me to operate at a higher level of efficiency. Looking upon my two new slaves, one after another, I find them both staring at me once more.
But this time, there’s no malice in their eyes, no contempt for who or what I am. Now there’s just a wrinkle of confusion, of helplessness, that lifts that smile back onto my lips.
They’re mine.
To ensure that I’m right, I test my theory, whispering into the quiet cell: “Both of you, turn your eyes to your feet.”
Without hesitation, both of their sets of glowing eyes fall to the floor, refusing to move.
I nod to myself, and whisper again: “You, to my left, come here and remove my restraints.”
The Hawk on my left lifts his eyes to mine. The other one stays as he is, his face staring straight at the floor.
Quietly, the Hawk moves towards me. I hold up my wrists, reaching them out to him. With a note of puzzlement, his own hands creep forward and fumble about for a moment. He doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing.
“Are you able to remove these cuffs?” I ask him. “Answer me quietly.”
He shakes his head.
“I do not have security clearance.”
Damn it.
“And you?” I whisper, turning to the other Hawk. “Look at me and answer me.”
He does as ordered, and shakes his head.
“I do not have security clearance either,” he tells me.
&n
bsp; My fingers ball and squeeze. I need these restraints off. Right now.
“Is there any other way to remove them?” I ask, looking again to the Hawk to my left.
“The only way would be to shoot the locking mechanism,” he answers.
He turns the barrel of his weapon to my handcuffs.
“No,” I say harshly. “Don’t do that. Sit back down where you were.”
He does so.
I know I can’t have him shoot the mechanism out. Doing so will alert the Stalkers, and I need to keep them in the dark for as long as I can.
So how? How do I get away without them knowing…
My mind ticks along furiously as the van rumbles with a more consistent motion. I know we must be nearing the perimeter wall now, moving away from the main population and towards the outer districts. As soon as we reach the gate, I’m done for. If this van gets to the outerlands, I’ll have nowhere to go…
As far as I see it, I have only one choice – a diversion.
If I can use the two Hawks to cover my retreat, I might just be able to use my Dasher powers to escape. When the van next slows, turning a corner, I can make them open up the back door. And I will run.
The Stalkers will stop the vehicle immediately. They will turn their attention straight to me, but if I can use the Hawks to delay them, it might just give me the time I need to make good my getaway.
But how much time will I need? A few seconds won’t be enough. They’ll be quicker than me, and will hunt me down with these chains still locked to my wrists.
Will half a minute be enough? Maybe. But then, will the Hawks be able to give me that? How long will it take the Stalkers to realise that they’re under my control? If they do so quickly, they will dispatch them without a moment’s hesitation, and will set their eyes on me right after.
It’s risky…but do I have a choice?
I’m not sure I do. I’m just not sure…
But I do know I have little time to act. And I need to know just where we are.
So once more, I recruit my new men, whispering an order to them once more.
“Where are we, exactly?” I ask.
Again, it’s the Hawk to my left who I order.
Using his forearm interface, the man draws up a map showing our location.
“District 8,” he tells me. “We’re about 10 blocks from the perimeter wall.”
“And how long until we reach it?” I question.
“At this speed, 3 minutes.”
OK, 3 minutes…it’s really now or never.
“Both of you,” I whisper. “Move right next to the rear door. Prepare to open it upon my command. When you do so, I want you to step out, either side of the van, and distract the Stalkers.”
“How?” asks the Hawk on the right.
“Get as close as you can to them, and then shoot them,” I say bluntly.
His eyes wrinkle and do a little dance of doubt. It’s a far more aggressive order to give, and while they remain under my command, it’s completely against their nature to go and shoot one of their own men.
I look to the other Hawk and realise that he’s having the same trouble agreeing to the order. More mental surgery will need to be done, manually inside their minds.
So without delay, I look to the Hawk on my right and whisper: “Look directly at me.”
Then, with our eyes locked, I slip straight into his head with the simple intention of ingraining the order to attack the Stalkers deeper into his consciousness.
However, as I walk through the murky emptiness of this man’s mind, I feel his thoughts centred around a person whose life he helped to destroy. A man I now care about deeply, and wish to see safe and free.
I see his memories of the day Adryan’s wife was taken. I see them fresh before him, the day that put Adryan on another path, awoke his emotions to the point where he betrayed the very people who ruled him, who still rule us all.
A path that, now, has him facing terrible torture and death. A path that has seen him do so much good, put his life on the line, and get so little in return.
Forgotten by Lady Orlando and the Nameless.
Left to die when they could have negotiated his return in exchange for Agent Woolf.
The thought sets a new grimace to my lips, and as I see the memory, I quickly decipher something far different in the man’s mind: a thought of pleasure. Pleasure at Adryan’s current predicament, at imagining my husband being shackled and cut and put through such pain, before having his life taken from him in brutal fashion.
This man enjoys the thought. Enjoys the idea. And as he thinks of it, I see it all too, see what will befall the man I’m falling for, the man I appear to have forgotten about during this escape.
But no longer. Now, I can think of nothing else. Because right there, within the man’s thoughts, I discover the precise time of Adryan’s execution.
This afternoon at 3PM, in only a few hours’ time, my man will be put to death, a mercy after what he must be going through. Alone and desperate, with no hope of escape, he will have accepted that fate.
But not me. I will never accept it.
And right there, as I withdraw from the Hawk’s mind, I know that my plan cannot go ahead. I cannot escape, only to leave Adryan to such a terrible destiny. He has no time to spare, and I have none to waste.
I’m not leaving this van.
I have to try to save him…or die in the attempt.
123
I sit back in the darkest corner of the van as it rumbles on through district 8. The perimeter wall, right at the edge of the city between districts 8 and 9, must only be a few blocks away now, rushing up fast as the van makes a final turn onto the main road leading towards it.
As the van slows to turn the corner, I know it’s my final chance to enact my original plan. The thought comes and goes in a flash, quickly doused by my determination to set my husband free.
As far as I see it, with his execution so near, I don’t have a choice now.
If I left him there, I could never live with myself. His fate is now fully entwined with my own.
With my City Guard slaves now back in their original positions, I have to think of something new. Within moments, I’ll be beyond the boundary of the city, and heading into unknown territory. All I know is that the REEF is about ten miles outside the city, built somewhere in a large clearing among the toxic woodlands and creepy marshes.
It was built there to ensure that anyone who attempted to escape would be locked within a dark and dangerous world. One populated with the mutated and deformed beasts that roam the wild, and the mutant species of human much rumoured among the streets of Outer Haven: the Shadows.
Still, so little is truly known of such things among the general population. Yet when I was down in the underlands with my brother, it surprised me to discover that the Nameless have teams of hybrids who go out beyond the wall to hunt for meat.
For men and women like that, perhaps the outerlands aren’t quite so perilous. For regular folk, however, who make up the vast majority of those taken to the REEF, the surrounding forests and swamps would mean almost certain death should they be lucky enough to escape the facility.
Although, it probably wouldn’t be so lucky. And the location of the facility, outside of the city rather than within it, was most likely chosen for that very purpose – if someone escapes by some miracle, they won’t be able to contend with the wilds beyond.
Out there, there are a hundred ways to die, each as terrible as what one might go through in the REEF itself.
Truly, once you’re beyond the city walls, you’re as good as dead whatever way you look at it.
I, of course, have some minor experience of such things from my experience outside the southern quarter after my tumble down the underground river. Without my gas mask, I would have died. Without Titus being the one to find me, I would have been executed, or reconditioned. Were I a little further from the wall, I’d have been unlikely to make it back without encountering som
e terrible beast who’d see me as either a threat to their territory or, more likely, a nice tasty lunch.
I was only a mile or so from the wall then. Now, I’m voluntarily going ten miles beyond it, far deeper into the treacherous world beyond our so-called haven of a city. And even if I can find Adryan and escape with him, we’ll still have the wildlands to navigate and evade.
With my powers, perhaps I’d have a chance. But Adryan? Aside from his powerful intellect, he’s just a normal man. Maybe he’s dead either way you look at it.
No, Brie, shut up! You’re going there, you’re going to extract him, and you’re going to get him back to safety!
My attempt to motivate myself has only a minor effect on the growing feeling of doubt at whether this plan will work. Because even if everything goes well, and I’m able to get Adryan out of there alive, and manage to trek through ten miles of jungle to reach the wall, I’ll still have to find a way back across it.
Last time, Titus was nice enough to stow me away in the trunk of his car and deposit me happily into the southern quarter. This time, I doubt I’ll stumble across him again…
Really, I have no plan at all. In fact, all I’ve probably just done is sentence myself to death, and betray the help that Commander Burns gave me.
Bravo, Brie. Good damn choice…
As my thoughts start their inexorable turn to negativity and scepticism, I feel the van beginning to slow. Then, it stops completely, and I hear a couple of voices from the front, only just audible through the thick hull of the vehicle.
Seconds later, the van kicks into gear once more, and the feel of the ground beneath the wheels changes. From the mostly flat and well kept roads of Outer Haven, the track suddenly grows more bumpy, the vehicle rocking and rolling a little more as we rumble off down the path.
Once again, I’m outside the city…
In my head, the countdown begins. I have ten miles to think up a plan, perhaps 15 minutes worth of plotting time before we reach the facility and I’m immediately sent for reconditioning.
That, I assume, is what will happen. They won’t waste time with me. I’ll be straight out of the truck and taken to have my head emptied out and refilled with the single directive to obey whatever orders I’m given.
