Wings (A Black City Novel)

by Elizabeth Richards

  I toss a chicken leg onto his plate as I sit down. “Thought you might like this. I know how much you love birds,” I tease.

  “Ha-ha, very funny,” he says, rolling his honey-colored eyes.

  Acelot smirks at me, and steals the chicken leg off his brother’s plate. We quickly fill them in on everything we know about the attack on Centrum tomorrow and Wings. Everyone has turned a shade paler by the time we’ve finished.

  “That’s so messed up, bro,” Beetle says, shaking his head.

  Natalie glances at something in the center of the room. “What’s Destiny doing?”

  I turn. Destiny is on top of one of the tables, dressed in white Pilgrim robes. People’s looks of confusion quickly turn to fear as she speaks.

  “His Mighty has looked into your souls, and He has seen your impurity,” she says vehemently. “You will be cleansed from this earth for your sins, to make way for the new order. One faith! One race! One nation, under His Mighty! So sayeth us all!”

  The glasses on everyone’s tables begin to rattle as a low hum reverberates through the compound. Natalie throws me a panicked look. I know that sound.

  Destroyer Ships.

  25.

  ASH

  I PULL NATALIE under the table just as the first bomb drops. Plaster shakes off the ceiling, and metal trays clank to the floor as the bomb hits the compound. The scent of blood hits my nostrils—warm, delicious, intoxicating. Screams tear through the canteen. A second later the lights blink off, replaced by the red emergency lights. Alarms blare throughout the compound wharp-wharp-wharp-wharp. There’s a hiss as the sprinklers turn on, putting out the fires that are already sweeping through the Mess Hall.

  Natalie’s panicked eyes catch mine. The others are under the table with us. Beetle’s holding Day, and Lucinda covers her head with her arms. Lying next to them are Acelot and Elijah. The older Bastet boy is covering Elijah with his body, shielding him. A glistening shard of metal is jutting out of Acelot’s back. Blood pumps out of the wound.

  “Ace!” I cry out, dragging him off Elijah.

  Acelot flops into my arms, his lifeless eyes gazing up at me. A trickle of blood seeps out of his parted lips.

  “Ace, oh God . . . ,” I say, my throat tight.

  Elijah stares at his brother. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “No . . . no . . . no . . . NO!”

  There’s a terrifying screech of bending metal overhead, and I glance up. The beams holding the concrete ceiling won’t last much longer. The whole room is going to cave in.

  “We have to get out of here, bro!” Beetle shouts over the noise.

  I place Acelot’s body on the ground. Elijah blinks and tears stream down his cheeks. I lay a hand on his arm.

  “We have to go,” I say.

  Elijah sniffs and nods. He gives his brother one last pained look, and then we’re scrambling from under the table and leaping over the injured, the dead, not stopping to help. I briefly register Destiny’s twisted, broken body strewn in parts across the floor. I feel nothing. The six of us make it out of the Mess Hall just as the ceiling collapses, sending up a plume of dust. The shock waves knock us off our feet. I skid across the floor, smashing against the wall. Oooph! The air is knocked out of my lungs, but there’s no time to stop; I have to get everyone out of here. I scramble to my feet and help Natalie up.

  All around us there’s a tremendous thud-boom-thud-boom-thud-boom as more bombs rain down on the compound in an endless barrage, making the whole building rattle. I feel like we’re in a snow globe, being tossed about and showered with debris.

  “We need to get to the Transporters,” Day says.

  “I have to get my mom!” Elijah says.

  “My parents,” Natalie replies. “Martha! Oh God, Ash!”

  “Where’s Roach?” Beetle says.

  Roach was in command central with Natalie’s parents and . . . My stomach lurches. Sigur. I can’t lose him and my dad in the same week. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. We race down the sidewalk leading toward command central, which is on the way to the hospital ward. People are running in every direction. Some seem to be following an emergency protocol, but everyone else, us included, is just racing to find their loved ones. Everywhere I turn, walls are crumbling; subway trains have slid off the tracks and their cables drag across the railways, sparking blue with electricity.

  There’s a pop of gunfire as we turn the corner. Slater races down the sidewalk toward us, his gun raised. For a terrifying, heart-twisting second I think he’s going to shoot us, but then he aims his weapon over our shoulders and shoots the people behind us. I whip around. Sentry guards swarm into the compound from the nearby entrance, led by a teenage boy dressed in a gray uniform with a gleaming butterfly medal on his chest. Sebastian. Even from here I can see the metallic glint in his newly silver eyes.

  “Ash, his eyes,” Natalie gasps.

  “I see them,” I reply.

  He spots us and points in our direction. “Over there!”

  Elijah pushes me out of the way as a bullet whizzes past my ear.

  “Thanks!” I say in a rush.

  “Anytime,” he replies.

  Natalie grabs my hand and leads us down a side alley, away from Sebastian. The sidewalk ahead is blocked with rubble. To my left is a subway track, where a road would typically be, and on the opposite side is another pathway. That one is clear. We drop down onto the twisted rails and hurry over to the platform edge. Elijah gracefully leaps onto an empty sidewalk a few feet above us and helps everyone up. We keep on running, our only thoughts on saving our family.

  Thud-boom, thud-boom, thud-boom. More bombs drop on the compound, shaking the walls, making us stumble. A chunk of concrete lands a few inches away from Day, and she screams in fright.

  “There!” Natalie says, pointing toward command central. The glass is still intact—it must be designed to withstand explosions. Garrick and Sasha are positioned outside the doors, shooting at any passing Sentry guards. Natalie’s parents are inside, along with Sigur and Roach. Relief crashes over me. They’re alive.

  We sprint across the bustling street, avoiding flying bullets and cracked pipes pumping out steam. All around us is the deafening wharp-wharp-wharp-wharp of the alarms. Garrick shoves us inside the room, slamming the door behind us. Instantly, there’s silence. Sigur hurries over to me, pulling me into his arms, while Natalie’s parents embrace her.

  “We were just coming to look for you,” General Buchanan says to Natalie.

  “We have to get to the hospital,” I say, pulling away from Sigur. “Yolanda, Martha and Dr. Craven are there.”

  “We can’t,” General Buchanan says, pointing toward the digital screens on the wall, which are streaming live closed-circuit footage of the compound. On one of the monitors I spot Sebastian storming down a sidewalk, his eyes predatory, searching for us. “There are hostiles swarming all over that place. Our priority is getting you kids out of here.”

  “I’m getting my mom,” Elijah says.

  “We can’t leave Martha!” Natalie adds. “I’m not leaving without her.”

  “Fine,” General Buchanan replies, knowing he’s not going to change Natalie’s mind. “Grab a weapon from the locker.”

  He points toward a cupboard I hadn’t noticed earlier, on the opposite side of the room. We race over to it and each grab a handgun. I pass one to Natalie, and Beetle hands one to Day. She checks to make sure it’s loaded, a hard look in her eyes. This isn’t her first firefight. Elijah takes two—one for him, one for his mom, when we find her. General Buchanan and Roach take the semiautomatics, while Emissary Buchanan slings a gun belt around her slim waist and slips a handgun into the holster.

  “Let’s go,” she says.

  The moment we step out of command central, our ears are assaulted by the cacophony of sounds: alarms, bombs, screams, gunfire, crashing concrete, ex
ploding gas pipes. General Buchanan taps Garrick on the shoulder and the Lupine takes the lead, while the pink-haired Lupine, Sasha, brings up the rear. Every few seconds there’s a rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire as we make our way to the hospital ward. I keep Natalie close by me. Beetle raises his gun and squeezes the trigger, pop-pop-pop. Three Sentry guards fall off the sidewalk ahead of us and onto the rails.

  “To your right!” Day shouts as a couple of Sentry guards appear from a side street.

  Beetle swings his gun around. Pop-pop. Two more dead.

  We reach the hospital. The glass doors have shattered, and our boots crunch over the crystal droplets. Lights hang from their fixtures, equipment lies broken on the tiled floor, and beds are covered in dust and plaster. Thankfully the hospital was nearly empty earlier.

  “Martha! Martha!” Natalie shouts.

  She pushes past me and sprints over to Martha’s bed. The old Darkling woman is hunched on the ground, huddled between her bed and the dresser. Natalie helps Martha to her feet, slinging an arm around her waist. The old lady struggles to walk, dragging Natalie down with her. Sasha strides over to them and picks up Martha in one easy movement, like she weighs nothing more than a pillow.

  A door to the laboratory opens, and Dr. Craven and Yolanda emerge. She’s holding a scalpel, and Dr. Craven has his leather medical bag clutched to his chest. It’s stuffed with papers and bottles, which clank when he runs over to us. Elijah quickly hugs his mom.

  “What the blazes is going on?” Dr. Craven asks.

  “Destiny gave up our position,” I reply. “She was working for Rose.”

  “Sebastian’s here; he’s leading the assault,” Natalie adds, and Dr. Craven blanches.

  “We have to get to the hangar,” Emissary Buchanan says. “Come on!”

  Garrick leads the way as we race out of the hospital. We hurry down the sidewalks, dodging the bullets flying in every direction. Thud-boom-thud-boom-thud-boom. Explosions rip through the compound, tearing up the underground city. The sprinklers can’t cope with the fires blazing in every room; it’s out of control. The choking smoke fills the passageways, making us cough and splutter. It’s hard to tell where we are, but the Sentry rebels don’t have any trouble navigating the city. They know the place inside and out. All around us I see flashes of black and red—the Sentry guards are closing in on us, sweeping throughout the compound, taking everyone out.

  Pop-pop-pop.

  A bullet slams into the wall by Beetle’s head. He doesn’t even flinch.

  “This way!” Garrick calls over his shoulder.

  We weave through endless passageways, passing offices and dormitories. We head down a familiar-looking corridor, and I spot the bunker I share with Natalie.

  “Wait!” Natalie cries out. “I need to get something.”

  She sprints away from me and is soon swallowed up by the dust and debris.

  “Natalie!” I shout, chasing after her, ducking as more bullets whizz by my head.

  Natalie emerges from our room. Her pocket is bulging with objects—I’m guessing her medication—and tucked under one of her arms is the glass jar with Theora’s heart in it. She races over to me and we join the others. Garrick pushes open a heavy door, and we head down a flight of steel steps toward the hangar deck, leaping over a dead body—it’s the blond soldier Slater. The back of his head is missing. The walls around us start to crack, the ceilings groan. If we don’t get out soon, we’ll be trapped inside it like a tomb.

  Pop-pop.

  Sasha cries out in pain. She tumbles down the steps with Martha, hitting the landing wall. My head snaps up toward the source of the gunfire. A Sentry guard is on the landing above us. General Buchanan lifts his gun and squeezes the trigger just as the man shoots at him. The guard slams against the wall, his blood splashing across the paintwork. I cover my nose and mouth, trying to block out the tantalizing smell.

  Natalie thrusts the glass jar into Day’s hands and runs down the steps with Garrick toward Sasha and Martha, who are sprawled on the landing below. Garrick checks Sasha’s pulse, although it’s obvious from the unnatural position of her head that her neck has broken. Natalie rolls Martha onto her back. There’s a neat circle of blood on the woman’s chest where the bullet pierced her heart.

  I grab Natalie around her waist, lifting her onto her feet.

  “I can’t leave her!” she wails.

  “She’s dead!” I say, dragging Natalie kicking and screaming down the rest of the stairs. I don’t let go of her until we reach the hangar deck.

  The place is in chaos. Bodies are strewn across the floor, their blood pooling around our feet. Most of the Transporters are on fire. There’s a burst of gunfire as a group of Sentry guards spot us. Roach and General Buchanan take them down with their semiautomatics.

  “That one!” Garrick says, pointing toward a Transporter nearest the exit. It’s one of the few aircrafts that isn’t ablaze yet.

  We sprint across the hangar.

  Pop-pop-pop.

  Garrick grunts and stumbles, nearly falling over. He clutches his stomach. Blood spurts between his fingers. I wheel around. Sebastian is standing in the control room at the end of the hangar.

  “I knew you’d come down here!” Sebastian shouts, pointing his gun at us.

  “Sebastian, son, please don’t do this! Think about what you’re doing!” Dr. Craven says.

  Sebastian’s silver eyes narrow. A snarl crosses over his lips. “I know what I’m doing. Cleansing the world of Impurities, like you.”

  He squeezes the trigger. The bullet grazes Dr. Craven’s arm, ripping his jacket. The doctor is so stunned, he doesn’t move when Sebastian pulls the trigger again. I knock the man out of the way just in time. The bullet brushes past my cheek, scorching my skin.

  General Buchanan and Beetle shoot at Sebastian, covering us, while we race toward the Transporter. Natalie’s mom punches a button on the outside of the aircraft, and the hatch opens. Lucinda and Elijah help Garrick onto the aircraft. He grimaces in pain, clutching his stomach. He’s left a bread-crumb trail of blood in his wake. We all stumble onto the aircraft and quickly close the hatch behind us.

  “Can you fly the ship?” General Buchanan asks Garrick.

  The man grunts, shaking his head. His skin is slick with sweat.

  “Don’t you know how to fly it? You’re in the military,” I say.

  “I’m army, not air force,” General Buchanan replies.

  Bullets hit the outside of the aircraft, thwamp-thwamp-thwamp. Sebastian is returning fire. Without saying anything, Day places the glass jar containing Theora’s heart on one of the metal benches and marches over to the pilot’s seat. She sits down and turns on the engines. They whir into life. She mutters under her breath as she flips a few switches and buttons, running through the commands.

  “Buckle up,” she calls over her shoulder.

  We all take out seats, hurriedly putting on the harnesses as Day takes the controls. Lucinda grabs the glass jar, holding it close against her. There’s a thunk of metal as the clamps are released, then a bone-shuddering jolt as the Transporter jerks forward. We speed through the access tunnel, accelerating at an alarming rate. Natalie grips my hand. Elijah screws his eyes shut. Beetle just grins. The others mutter a prayer under their breath.

  Day yanks on the controls and the aircraft lurches upward so fast, my ears pop. There’s darkness, darkness, darkness, and then brilliant light as we burst out into the blue skies. We’re going so fast, I think we’re going to crash into the Destroyer Ships hovering a few hundred feet above the compound. The airships are easily five hundred feet long and painted white with a red rose on the side: the emblem of Purian Rose. They get closer, closer, closer, filling the windscreen, so close I can see the screws holding the metal sheets together.

  “Day!” Natalie screams.

  Day yanks the controls to the right, a
nd the aircraft tilts. We zoom through a narrow gap between two of the Destroyer Ships, darting between them. The ships drift closer, threatening to crush us. Fragg, fragg, fragg! I clutch on to the bench. Day punches a few buttons and unloads the missiles into the sides of the ships as we pass. Fire blooms across their surfaces, creating enough force to push the airships apart a few meters, giving us space to fly through. She pulls up on the controls again and the aircraft rockets up, up, up, so high that pressure balls behind my eyes, until we’re flying above the Destroyer Ships. We’re soon swallowed by the clouds. Good luck finding us, I think. I suspect this aircraft can’t be easily detected on radar.

  “Nice flying, babe!” Beetle shouts.

  Day doesn’t say anything, but I know she’s grinning.

  General Buchanan unfastens his seat belt and gets up, pressing a hand against the metal wall to brace himself as the Transporter bumps up and down on the rough air.

  “Is everyone all right?” he says.

  Dr. Craven clings to his medical bag, his face pale. I’m not sure if he’s feeling sick from the turbulence or because his son just tried to murder him.

  “His eyes were silver,” Dr. Craven mutters. “Did you see? He’s not my boy anymore, Jonathan, he’s . . . he’s—” The doctor buries his face in his hands.

  Elijah is sitting opposite me, his eyes shut. Tears slide down his bloodstained cheeks. I look away, unable to take any more pain. My heart feels bruised from so many blows. Natalie rests her head against my shoulder. There are soot smudges on her cheeks.

  “I’m such an idiot,” Natalie says. “I trusted Destiny; I thought she was my friend. But she just wanted to retrieve you and the Ora, then get us all back into one place so she could blow us up.” She looks up at me. “Ash, what are we going to do?”

  I stiffen, saying nothing. I have no idea.

  Dr. Craven wipes his red-rimmed eyes, then picks up his bag and tends to Garrick’s wounds.