Slate and I returned to the lander, and it was obvious my friend was struggling with this more than ever. “You’re okay doing this today?”
Slate nodded, but he let me take the pilot’s seat. He shifted in his chair as we lifted off, flying from the Academy. The sky was pitch black, not a cloud to be seen, and the lights from Haven city ahead guided my path.
He held the Locator device, and we closed in on the blinking red dot. “Maybe we should wait for tomorrow. When it’s daytime,” I suggested.
“I suppose, or we could scope it out tonight. See what we’re working with,” Slate said, and I agreed.
“Fine. We’ll land, and…” I saw the map as it zoomed in the closer we were to the subject, and noticed we weren’t heading into a residential area. This was the warehouse district of Haven. “That’s odd. What’s someone doing out here in the middle of the night?”
“Good question. Nothing good, I presume.” Slate picked up his pulse rifle as I killed the lander’s exterior lights.
A hovertrain sat outside a giant warehouse, and I settled behind it, using it as a shield. We were two blocks from the target, but it would be advantageous to sneak up rather than land directly at the building’s parking lot.
The streets were filled with various buildings, many exact replicas of the next. Inside, they would each have modifications to streamline their own businesses, but Terrance had been strict for his esthetic rules in every district. Thinking about my old hybrid friend made me miss his presence.
“Boss, take these.” Slate shoved the vest at me, complete with helmet, and I took them, strapping everything in place.
“Don’t you think we’re getting a little old for clandestine midnight raids?” I asked him with a grin.
“Speak for yourself. You’re definitely too old, but I’m in the prime of my life,” he told me, and we were off.
We kept all lights powered down and let the bright moon and stars illuminate the empty streets. Hoverbuses and heavy machinery lined the roads, and we crept between them, hiding in the shadows as we jogged toward the warehouse where the red dot was blinking.
Something shifted to our left, and Slate aimed the rifle at the sound. A cat meowed and darted away, settling under a truck. We’d allowed people to relocate with their pets, and now we had a wild cat surplus around the city.
Slate made an obvious hand gesture to move, and we did, slowing a block from the target. We pressed our backs to a brick wall, staying in the lot next to our destination, and I used my binoculars with night vision. The place was abandoned. There were two vehicles in the lot: one newer truck and a flat-tired semi without a trailer. I could guess which one our red dot drove in. I marked the two entry points but couldn’t see anything through boarded-up windows.
Slate was born for this kind of mission, and I let him lead me to the warehouse. He tested the first door and found it locked. He removed his helmet, pressing his ear to the door, then shook his head, implying there was no sound within.
I peered at the walls, expecting to find surveillance, but didn’t spot any. The next door was locked too, and still no noise.
“Let’s try the bays,” I told him with a whisper, and we kept on, stopping at the first of three rolling bay entrances. I slipped my fingers between the rubber sweep and the concrete, and pulled up. It slid with me.
Slate smiled and crouched low to the ground, aiming his gun inside. I kept the door raised two feet, and he rolled through. I did the same, and we found ourselves lying on the dusty floor of an unused warehouse. Old boxes sat empty on the floor, and most of the pallet racking was devoid of product. A forklift blocked an exit across the space, and Slate slowly moved for it, weapon at ready.
My pistol was aimed ahead, anticipating danger with every breath. I quickly checked the Locator and saw the dot was directly on us. My heart banged in my chest as I peered around, looking toward the rafters, expecting a man to drop from the ceiling. No one was here.
“Basement,” Slate whispered.
He was probably right. We searched for a hatch or hidden door, and finally found one a few minutes later. We had to move the forklift because it was parked directly over the panel. Slate drove it off the hatch, but the noise would have been loud enough to wake anyone in this warehouse.
“Damn it. If they didn’t know we were here already, they do now,” he said, pulling on the metal ring. The door hinged upwards, and we climbed down the stairs, my pulse racing. Slate moved with purpose, using his night goggles in the dark tunnel. I copied him, flipping the visor down from the helmet, and everything glowed green.
The hallway was dank, with water dripping from the ceiling and over the walls. I stepped in a puddle, splashing liquid on my pants, but ignored the wet leg. We’d managed to find one more person like Carolyn and Slate, and so far, all signs were suggesting this target wasn’t going to be an ally.
The hallway ended, and I suspected the room behind this door was where the target had been hiding. I grabbed the Locator, seeing the red dot so close, we could have touched them if there had been no barrier.
I showed Slate, and he nodded his understanding. There was a lock and handle, so Slate didn’t bother trying to test it. He pulled a small sticky cube from his pocket and pressed it into the lock. Then he swept me into the hall and covered me, turning his back to the door. He tapped a button on his wrist, and the tool detonated, forcing the entire slab open.
Slate spun, taking aim as the dust settled. He rushed from me, and I pushed my nerves to the side as I trailed after, gun raised.
“Oooofff.” Slate’s breath shot from his lungs as a club struck him in the chest. He curled over, and I saw the man’s face. His skin was pallid, his eyes hazy and red-lined. Beads of sweat sheathed his bald head, and he sneered at me, swinging the club again. I expected it to strike me, but it hit Slate instead. He crumpled to the ground, his rifle clattering to the floor.
“Freeze,” I shouted, but it did nothing to stop the man from coming at me. He moved like a wild animal, teeth bared, grunting. I managed to duck as the metal club aimed for my face, and it contacted the wall with a reverberating clang. I kicked his knee, hearing a crunch, and rolled over Slate, entering the man’s lair. The smell was overwhelming, and I fought an imminent gag, but my eyes instinctively watered. When I cleared them, I searched for the guy but couldn’t find him.
A candle flickered in the corner of the room, and I flipped the night vision off, trying to gain a better handle on the layout. Figures shifted along the edges of the room, and that was when I saw the victims. The freak had people chained to the wall. Chins lolled forward as the bodies hung by shackled wrists.
“Behind you!” one of the captives shouted with a deep, raspy voice, and I spun with my gun raised as the man dashed into the room, weapon steadily descending toward me. Slate must have come to, because he grabbed the freak’s leg, catching him off guard. I pulled the trigger not once or twice, but five times, each shot striking him in the body. I panted as I stared at the corpse, and finally gathered my wits enough to help Slate to his feet.
“Boss, you okay?”
“Me? You’re asking me? You were the one being treated like a baseball.” My hand shook as I holstered the pistol, and I left Slate to assess the man, checking for a pulse. There wouldn’t be one.
I took stock of the people in his lair, finding seven in total. They were skinny, malnourished, but from a quick survey, they seemed otherwise intact. I could only imagine the psychological ramifications of this captivity, but all that mattered at this moment was their freedom.
I went to the bearded man, seeing he was a Kraski hybrid models. He was the one who’d shouted a warning, and I met his wary gaze. “Is he alone, or was he working with someone?”
“Solo. Is he dead?” the man asked.
I nodded, and tears dripped from his eyes. “Thank you.”
Slate came, holding a key ring, and we set to releasing the shackled prisoners. One by one, we helped them from the wall, and I fou
nd the last victim, a petite woman, was dead, and probably had been for some time. I undid the clasps and set her body on the floor.
Slate called it in, letting Haven’s police force know of our discovery.
Most of the wounded were barely responsive, and because of the poor lighting and abuse, it took me another five minutes to realize something important. They were all hybrids. One looked like Terrance, the next like Leslie and Mae.
The responders came quickly, and soon the room was filled with floodlights and medics. I caught Slate staring at the man on the floor, sticky blood pooling under him, and he glanced up, swallowing.
I could read his mind. Will this happen to me?
____________
“Are you guys okay?” Mary asked as we entered our condo. I’d called ahead to fill her in, and she was frantic with concern.
Slate didn’t speak as she rushed to meet us. Mary wrapped her arms around him, telling him he was going to be fine. “I’m just glad you two are alive. Why didn’t you call for support before running headfirst into a fire?”
“We were caught off-guard. We had no substantiated reason to assume we were dealing with a straight-up lunatic,” I countered. She stared at me before helping me remove the vest. I kicked my shoes off and saw Slate do the same. He moved for the couch and plopped into the seat.
“Is Hugo here?” Slate asked, glancing toward the bedrooms.
“No, he’s at Karo’s.”
“Good.” Slate leaned forward, rubbing his eyes. “Did you see the guy’s face? He was wild.”
I sat across from him, trying to be empathetic. “That doesn’t mean it’ll happen to you.”
He rose, his big chest puffing out. “How do you know?” He paced the living room, and Mary came over, standing beside my chair. “This is messed up.”
“Who were the victims?” Mary asked.
“That’s the weirdest thing. He had hybrids… only hybrids. Seven of them. Six were alive, but I’d guess at least one might be too far gone to recuperate,” I answered.
“I wonder why hybrids?”
“Who knows? He’s gone, so we’ll never learn his motivation, unfortunately. I shouldn’t have killed him.” I pictured the crazed look in the man’s eyes as he ran at me with the club.
“Boss, you did the right thing. He wasn’t going to stop until one of you was dead.” Slate sat again, finally calming enough to have a normal conversation.
“You’re probably right, but I wish we had something to go on. We’ll learn more tomorrow when we can interview the victims and track the guy’s movements. He had no identification, so the lab will find out his name, and we can go from there.” I couldn’t wait to start on this, but I realized just how exhausted I was after such a trying day. We’d covered a lot of ground in a short amount of time.
Mary entered the living room, bringing mugs of steaming tea, and Slate cradled his, staring through the window at the dark sky beyond. “We’re two for two.”
“That doesn’t mean…” Mary started to say, but stopped as a glare from Slate cut her short.
“I can see it now. A switch will flip, and I’ll end up doing something terrible like Lauder and that freak from tonight. Dean, you have to stop this.” Slate was scared, his hands shaking tea over the edge of the mug.
I walked closer, taking the cup, and set it out of his reach. “You have to keep it together. Regnig is working on it, and we don’t have all the information. What has Suma always taught us?”
“To gather information first. So did the Gatekeepers,” he said quietly.
I sat with Slate, turning to face him. “Then that’s what we’re going to do. Gather every detail we can and take it from there. We can’t panic yet.”
“And if I do snap and start a killing spree?” he asked, eyes wide.
“Then I’ll be there to stop you,” I assured him. “We’ll be joined at the hip for the next while.”
This seemed to relax him, and he sank into the couch. “Thanks. Mary, are you okay with this?”
“With Dean helping you in your time of need?” she asked with a grin. “You know you’re family, Slate. You don’t even have to ask.”
“Do you mind if I send Loweck a message and hit the hay? I’m beat and want an early start tomorrow.”
I hoped it wasn’t as early as the past couple days, because I needed more than four hours of sleep.
“Sure. Take Jules’ room. I just changed the sheets,” Mary told him.
Slate sauntered off, holding his tablet.
“How serious is this?” Mary asked me up close. Her breath smelled like lemon tea.
“It’s tough to say. You didn’t see that room, though. The guy wasn’t well. And those hybrids… I feel so terrible for them.” I glanced to Jules’ room, where Slate had the door closed. “If this happens to our Zeke, we’re in for a load of trouble.”
Mary poked me in the chest lightly. “Then you have to prevent it. Take whatever time you need, Dean. I wasn’t kidding about him being our family. He needs you right now.”
“Let’s head to bed, then. If I’m going to be useful, I have to sleep.” I shut the lights off, following Mary to our bedroom.
Once I cleaned up and climbed under the warm comforter, sleep was a struggle to find. I stared at the ceiling, watching shadows dance across my wall as the trees out the window blew in a night breeze. I kept seeing those wretched forms dangling from rusted shackles.
____________
Jules woke from the bottom bunk in Patty’s room as the motion sensor kicked on. Patty continued to snore soundly as Jules threw a bathrobe over her pajamas. She nearly tripped on one of Patty’s medical prep books, and caught herself on the desk. The hinges protested as she slowly opened it, but Patty didn’t budge. Maggie noticed she was away, and shook her entire body before jumping off the bed to follow. The collar rattled too loudly.
She walked down the hallway, the wooden floors squeaking with each step. Dean’s door was propped open, and she peered inside, smiling as she saw him sleeping, arms lifted over his pillow. He was out like a light.
Magnus was on the couch, a dark shape in the shadow-infested living room. Jules paused, hearing him breathing in even inhales and exhales. He was asleep. That only left one person.
She went out the door and found Natalia on the wooden swing Magnus had built her when they’d first moved in. She’d heard the story a dozen times about how he’d put it together backwards and had to disassemble it before starting from scratch. One error, and he’d been forced to begin anew. Papa treated it like a life lesson any time she had to redo something. It used to make her angry, but seeing Natalia on it, swinging in the middle of the night, alone, made her sad.
Charlie was the first one to spot her, and he ran over, abandoning his owner’s feet. Carey lifted his nose, seeing Jules before lowering it to the grass again. He was so old now, kept alive by life-extending drugs. She loved these dogs. Maggie sniffed Charlie, and they both walked to the oldest of the three and plopped to the ground, content to be together.
“Jules,” Auntie said without even turning around.
“I didn’t mean to bug you. I saw the light.”
Natalia patted the swing’s bench, and Jules took a seat. Nat tossed part of her blanket over, and Jules draped it around her legs. The night air held a chill to it.
Natalia had been crying, her eyes red-rimmed and her cheeks damp. “I loved him so much.”
Jules didn’t have to ask who she was talking about. She stayed quiet, not wanting to break the moment.
“We had it all figured out. One or two more missions, and he would retire. We planned to settle in New Spero. He was going to take fishing trips on Earth. We were already talking to Sarlun about a vacation property near his. And the damned Arnap stole it all from us.” Nat watched the dogs instead of Jules.
“I’m sorry.” She had no other response.
“I know, honey. I saw what you did, and I’m eternally grateful you avenged my husband and his crew. I a
lso wish we’d never been there, and that you hadn’t sacrificed your youth with such a violent act. I can’t imagine the toll it’s taken on one so young.” Nat’s hand snaked out, grabbing hers. It was cold to the touch.
Jules moved closer, leaning on her auntie. “I feel like I was two people. The girl who wasn’t allowed to be a kid, and a Deity with the power to snuff a life with a mere thought. But even when I did those atrocious acts, when it was over, I somehow managed to push it down deep inside me.”
Nat turned, her palms finding Jules’ cheeks, her eyes burning wildly. “Never think about anything you did as terrible. You’re a special girl, and you helped in every way possible. The Alliance wouldn’t exist without you. Many of us would be dead if you hadn’t been there to intervene.”
Jules let the intense words sink in. An internal dam broke, and she started crying, her auntie pulling her close. “Those people had to die. I didn’t want to be a monster, but I had no choice.”
Nat stroked her hair, softly cooing at her as only a mother could. “I know, honey. You did nothing wrong. Without you, we were doomed.”
Jules cried, unable to stop, her chest heaving as the tears flowed, an unstoppable force once it started. It seemed like an hour by the time she’d calmed enough to speak again. “Thank you.”
Nat kissed her forehead, still holding her hand. “Sometimes we need someone to listen. I could see the buildup in you.”
Jules already felt better, like an enormous weight had been lifted off her teenage shoulders. “And you?”
“What about me?”
“Where does your story take you?” Jules asked as she wiped the last of her tears.
“My story is done. Now it’s my kids’ time. It’s your time.” Natalia smiled sadly.
Jules frowned, shaking her head. “You’re wrong, Auntie. Just because Patty is going to Shimmal, and Dean and I will be working at the Terran Thirty, doesn’t mean you don’t have a future. You have so much to live for.”
The Survivors | Book 15 | New Beginning Page 6
