by P. T. Hylton
“On it,” Owl said as she threw the truck into gear and started moving.
Alex spoke into her radio. “George, you there?”
It took a moment before he responded. “Alex? I’m beyond happy to hear your voice.”
“Get the ship ready to fly. We’ll be there in two minutes.”
“Good timing,” he replied. “I was just about to leave without you, but then I remembered I have no idea how to fly this damn thing.” His voice grew more serious. “Alex, you have to hurry. We don’t have much daylight left. We’re going to be cutting this razor-close.”
“Don’t worry,” Alex answered. “We do this all the time.”
As the transport roared towards the away ship, Alex could hear howls erupting all around them. The Ferals were now very aware of the humans in the city. Between the noise of the battle and the powerful emotions that had to be surging through the Ferals they’d fought in the tunnel, Alex was willing to bet that there were thousands of the creatures waiting to attack. That wasn’t even considering the smell of the blood splattered all over Ed, Alex, and Chuck from Chuck’s gunshot wound.
In the back, Patrick was tending to Chuck, wrapping his shoulder to stop the bleeding, but the Ferals in the buildings on either side of the street went wild as the transport drove past.
Alex looked out her window and toward the western sky. The sun was setting and Ferals were emerging, standing in the shadows next to the buildings.
Her radio chirped to life, and George’s panicked voice came through. “Alex, we’re out of time! The shadows are almost to the ship, and the Ferals will be able to attack in just a minute.”
Alex gritted her teeth as her heart clenched in her chest. Could it really end like this? Just blocks away from their working ship? Would they arrive just in time to see Ferals tearing the ship apart and hauling George from the wreckage?
Then the radio chirped again, but this time it was another voice that spoke. “George, you didn't think that I would let a bunch of Ferals kill my favorite human, did you?”
“Jaden, is that you?” George asked.
“Of course. Is there another vampire who’d call you his favorite? Alex, are you listening?”
“I’m here, Jaden,” she answered.
“I need you to get George airborne as quickly as possible. I’d prefer if you and your team lived as well. I’ll buy you as much time as I can, but it may not be a lot.”
Alex stared out the window at the teeming masses of Ferals waiting in the shadows. “Jaden, I don’t think even you and your team can hold off this many Ferals.”
“Maybe not, but we’re not alone. I just got a new army of nearly two hundred vampires thanks to you, and they’re itching for a fight.”
The transport turned the corner, bringing the away ship into view. Hundreds of Ferals stood in the shadow of the nearest building, huddled shoulder-to-shoulder, some as close as thirty feet from the ship.
The Feral horde stood directly between the transport truck and the away ship.
“Can we go around them?” Alex asked.
Owl shook her head slowly. “By the time we circle around, it’ll be full dark. And we can’t plow through without them piling onto the truck and tearing us to shreds. We need another way.”
Just then, manhole covers all around the street popped up, many flying as high as five feet into the air. Jaden and his team sprang up, followed by the remaining Resettlers.
Jaden held a sword in each hand as he dashed into the horde of Ferals blocking the GMT’s path. The other Agartha vampires followed close behind him and together they cut a wide swath through the crowd.
Firefly and his team fanned out, firing on the Ferals at the edge of the shadows, driving them back, further from the away ship.
The Ferals were so disoriented by the smells of blood and humans that they were slow to respond to the attack. The vampires managed to take out half the group in less than a minute. Jaden continued to slice his way through the Ferals and soon there was a path large enough for the transport.
Owl floored it, and the transport lurched forward, shooting through the Feral-infested shadows and toward the patch of sunlight where the ship sat waiting. As soon as she reached it, the GMT leaped from the truck and dashed onto the ship where George waited with the door open for them.
George stared at the battle raging around them, his face pale. “Oh my God. Are you guys seeing this?”
Owl pushed him aside and sprinted for the cockpit.
“Yep, it’s the end of the world,” Alex replied. “Unless we get airborne. Then it’s just another trip to the surface.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Owl, get us out of here!”
“I’m on it!” Owl shouted back. “Stop bugging me.”
The team strapped into their seats, and Alex and George ran to the cockpit where they joined Owl.
As the startup sequence finished, Owl pulled a lever and the ship lifted off the ground.
They were airborne.
“Oh my God,” George repeated. “We made it. I can’t believe we made it.”
Owl nodded out the cockpit window toward the vampires still battling below. “What about them?”
“They should be okay,” Alex replied. “Now that we’re up, they’ll disengage. The Ferals should lose interest and focus on whatever drops of blood Chuck left in the transport.” She allowed herself a smile. “Thank you. Both of you. If you hadn’t gotten the ship running, we would have been screwed.”
Owl grinned. “Pleasure’s mine. Fixing the ship was the fun part. You guys missed out on the real action. George was a beast with a soldering iron.”
George’s brow furrowed in concern. “I’m glad we’re out of there and all, but what do we do now? It’s going to be pitch dark when we get back to Agartha. We gotta figure out how we’re going to get past all the Ferals and get inside for the night.”
Alex and Owl exchanged a glance, then Alex put a hand on George’s shoulder. “I don’t know how to break this to you, George, but we’re not going back to Agartha. Owl, hand me that radio.”
24
CB, Jessica, and Brian stopped a little way before they reached the entrance to the GMT hangar.
The walk through Sparrow’s Ridge had gone surprisingly well. In their worker’s jumpsuits and hardhats, the badges they’d passed had assumed they were just Ridge residents on their way home from another difficult shift. No one had given them a second look.
Jessica held her arm limply at her side. Dried blood covered much of the arm, but the bleeding had stopped. The shock had started to wear off and she could walk on her own.
Brian stared at the door to the building. “So how do we get in? I’m pretty sure that none of our keycards are going to work.”
Jessica looked at CB. “I don’t suppose you have Alex’s keycard too?”
“Afraid not.” He paused a moment. “I hate it when important things are out of my control, but in this case, we don’t have a choice. We’re going to need a little faith for this one.” With that, he walked over to the building and pushed the comm button. “This is Arnold Brickman. I have Jessica Domhnall with me and she needs some medical attention. I’m asking you to open the door.”
A moment later there was a buzz and a click. CB, Jessica, and Brian exchanged a nervous glance, then entered the GMT hangar.
They walked through the long hallway that led to the hangar itself in silence. As they reached the hangar, four men with automatic weapons stepped into their path, blocking them from entering the large, open room.
Beyond the four armed men, CB saw technicians, medical personnel, and maintenance crew. Apparently, word had gotten out that CB had arrived.
He recognized every face, and he knew every one of their names. Many of these people had worked with him for years.
He looked at the four armed men, waiting for one of them to speak.
Finally, one man said in a weak voice, “Colonel Brickman, please put down your weapons. It’s over.”
CB looked him straight in the eye. “It is over, Carl, as I’m sure you know.” He spoke loud enough that everyone in the area could hear him. “No one understands what’s really happening better than the people in this room. I’m sure every one of you knows that Resettlement was a complete failure. It cost us some of best people New Haven had. All because of Fleming’s ego. And now he’s spitting on their memories by denying their deaths even happened.”
He paused, scanning their faces with his eyes, trying to see if anyone would object. No one did, so he continued.
“Look, I don’t fault any of you for following Fleming. I followed him myself for a time. Too long, really. But I understand. His grand vision pulls you in. It makes you forget about the ugly reality of what he’s doing to achieve his goals. But if you look at the results of his actions rather than listening to his pretty lies, the truth is clear. Every Resettler we sent to the surface was killed in a single night, and Fleming is lying about it.”
The faces watching him wore uncomfortable expressions. Many of them looked racked with indecision. CB understood. There was no easy choice for these people. Betray the leader of the city or betray the leader of the GMT. For these patriots, either option would have been unthinkable not long ago.
Still, he was about to ask them to make that very choice.
“I have given everything to this city and its people. I know you have too. I’ve trusted you with my life on many missions to the surface. I never gave a thought to whether you did the jobs that would help keep me alive, because I knew you did. Today, I need you to support me on one more mission. This one will be to save the city of New Haven from Fleming. I need you to fight for the very survival of the human race. Will you help me?”
The guards looked at each other, lowering their weapons slightly but not putting them down.
Finally, a voice replied from across the room. “I will help you, CB.”
CB blinked hard, trying to place the man. He wore a black outfit, just like those worn by the faceless GMT, but he wasn’t wearing a mask.
“Fleming sent me and my team down to Fort Stearns,” the man continued. “Only two of us survived the trip. Fleming wouldn’t even listen to our report.” He turned to the others around him. “Everything CB said is true. We need to take Fleming down.”
CB nodded slowly. He remembered the man now from when he’d been a badge. “Thank you, Beau. And I’m sorry you went through that.”
A murmur of agreement went through the room, and the four armed men blocking their path lowered their weapons.
“What do you need, CB?” one of them asked.
CB smiled and gestured to Brian and Jessica.
“A terminal in the control room and a working login,” Brian replied.
“The transport ship,” Jessica added. “And someone who knows how to fly it. Also, some pairs of handcuffs.”
A few eyebrows raised at that, but everyone quickly went to work.
A group of technicians led Brian to the control room, practically fighting over whose login he should use.
Jessica followed a bunch more crew members to the ship to explain the plan and what they needed to do to prepare the ship.
CB wished them both luck. He knew if there was any chance of pulling this off, they were going to need all the good fortune they could get.
“What about you, Colonel?” one of the technicians asked. “What are you going to do?”
CB walked to the door that was rarely used and entered a code into the keypad. “I’m going to get an old friend.”
After instructing the crew on the ship preparations, Jessica made her way to the control room to check in with Brian. He was already deep in the control systems he’d previously hacked and was checking to make sure everything was ready to go.
“Brian, the away ship is almost ready to head out. How are things looking on your end?”
Brian kept typing for a moment before he realized that Jessica was standing there. When he looked up, he processed what she’d just said. “Yep, everything is looking good here.” He glanced at her arm. “You sure you’re up for this? Maybe we can get someone else to handle it.”
She shook her head. “You know as well as I do there’s no one else who can do this. I’ve felt better, but I can keep it together long enough to take care of business.” She reached out and ruffled Brian's hair. “To be honest, we’re both a mess right now.”
He let out a laugh. “Let’s finish this and then we can sleep for a week.”
“That sounds like the smartest thing any of us has said for days. I’ll see you soon.” With that, she made her way back into the hangar proper.
Beau, the former faceless GMT leader, stood next to the transport ship, waiting for her.
“Ready to do this?” she asked, climbing aboard.
“Uh, yeah,” he said.
She raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t the most confidence-inspiring answer.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, it’s just… I should probably mention I’ve only flown this ship once before. I’ve only flown anything once before. Most of my flight time was in a simulator.”
Jessica paused, not sure how to respond to that. Then she shrugged. It was too late to come up with a new plan now. If she survived the day, it would be a miracle. Might as well add flying with an inexperienced pilot to the list of foolish tasks she was undertaking.
Beau settled into the pilot’s seat and started the ship as Jessica found her harness and began putting it on.
Two minutes later, the airlock opened and the ship flew into open sky.
Fleming sat in his desk, head in his hands, his weary eyes glued to the monitor on his desk. He had set it to show alternating security footage of whatever five locations the badges and the GMT were currently focusing their efforts. He’d hoped to see his soldiers taking CB, Brian, and Jessica down, but so far all he’d seen was his people fruitlessly searching for the fugitives.
Sarah sat across from him, watching in silence. She’d given up trying to improve his mood. Fleming was losing his mind, and she was beginning to believe it was beyond her powers of persuasion to bring him back. Her only hope was that it was a temporary, stress-induced condition. If they could get through today, take down CB and his friends, and regain control of the increasingly violent protesters, then maybe things would return to normal. Maybe the Fleming she knew would come back to her.
But things seemed to be going from bad to worse. Kurtz had been found bloody and beaten in Sparrow’s Ridge. He’d managed to croak out that he’d been attacked by CB before the doctors hauled him off to medical.
Losing one of his two closest advisors hadn’t done much to improve Fleming’s mood.
“Sir, something is happening in the GMT hangar,” a voice reported on the radio. “The airlock is opening.”
Fleming instantly sat up straight, his eyes alert and his pupils dilated to a degree that didn’t seem normal to Sarah. “CB! He’s trying to leave the city. Probably wants to unite with his vampire allies.” He touched the radio. “Get the defense turrets ready. If anything leaves that airlock, I want it blown out of the sky! In the meantime, I want the whole force of the GMT converging on the hangar. Apparently, the workers there still support their traitorous old boss.”
“Yes, sir,” the voice replied. “Redirecting the GMT to the hangar now.”
For a tense minute, a heavy silence hung over the room. Then the voice spoke again.
“Sir, a ship has left the hangar. We’re tracking them, but we, um, can’t shoot them down.”
Fleming’s face reddened. “What do you mean you can’t shoot them down? Why not?”
There was a pause before the voice responded. “We’re not sure, sir. The defensive turrets aren’t responding. It’s like something overrode our control of the weapons.”
Fleming leaped to his feet and kicked his chair, sending it skidding across the room. “God damnit! Track the ship. Check its trajectory. I want to know where they’re headed,
and I want to know it now.”
“They appear to be flying alongside us, sir. They’re banking wildly, but they’re staying close to New Haven.”
“What? Why would they do that?”
“I don’t know, sir. It appears they’re moving toward the front of the city.”
“The flight deck,” Sarah said, her voice tense. “The front of the ship is where the flight deck is located. They’re trying to get control of New Haven.”
Fleming’s eyes widened, revealing even more of his bloodshot eyes. “Why would they want to get control of the flight deck?”
She thought a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe they want to fly us to Agartha to get help from their friends there.”
Fleming looked horrified at the thought. Then he gritted his teeth. “It doesn’t matter. They can’t get on the flight deck. It’s the most secure spot on the ship. And even if they did somehow manage to take it, there’s no way they could hold it. Making a move for the flight deck would be suicide.”
CB entered the room with the glass walls and strode to the monitor, checking to see if Frank was moving. The vampire appeared to be sleeping, as he usually was when CB arrived.
Since the day Frank had transformed from a Feral to an intelligent vampire, CB had been visiting him daily, bringing him blood bags and at least a few minutes of conversation. It was clear that his century and a half of life as a Feral mixed with the constant daylight surrounding his metal cage this entire time had left him mentally scarred, but surprisingly CB found him to be a kind, soft-spoken man whose main concern was the well-being of New Haven.
During their conversations, CB had begun to wonder if maybe Frank’s new, intelligent life was more horrible than his existence as a Feral. Frank was fully aware now, and the fact that New Haven was constantly in sunlight gave him a permanent case of daysickness, depriving him of the night vampires needed for their well-being. Frank was in constant pain, and he spent most of his time sleeping.
CB deeply regretted returning Frank to his intelligent form just to prove a point to Fleming. Though the fact that Fleming had never once asked about Frank after that initial meeting proved how compartmentalized the leader’s mind was; anything that didn’t fit his specific worldview got pushed to the back, never to be thought of again.
