The Clash (The Permutation Archives Book 5)

by Kindra Sowder

  “I take it you’re still mad about me killing your mom?” he asked in a condescending tone, adjusting his stance.

  When I didn’t reply, he grinned and took a deep breath to speak again.

  “It was necessary. I’m sure you understand.”

  My vision went red as if I were a raging bull, and I stalked to the barrier. I fumed at the thought that I could understand his willingness to kill my mother in front of me. It wasn’t necessary. Anything he had done wasn’t. Had he killed her to get back at me? Or was it a product of Emerson King’s nihilistic reasoning? Either way, there was no way he should have expected me to understand any of what he had done since ratting our escape from the Spartan Compound out to King and his ilk. Slamming my hand on the barrier between us, I cried out like a wild animal. My palm stung with the action, but I ignored it. It only spurred me on.

  “You killed my mother. The woman who made you peanut butter and jelly sandwiches after school. The woman who cared about you as if you were her own child. You and your brother. How could I understand that?” I shouted, drawing the attention of the people behind Nero to us with a snap of their heads.

  He looked back at them, waved, and they disappeared through a doorway filled with blue light, glancing back every few seconds. When he turned back to me, his face was stern.

  “Calm down. Rage like that doesn’t suit you.”

  “You think I care?” I nearly spat. “If I could get out of here, I would kill you where you stand. Do you understand me?”

  His demeanor remained calm. Too calm. I wanted a reaction out of him. I wanted to see the anger that rolled around inside him like a tidal wave. I knew it was there, just under the surface. I had seen it in the Spartan Compound when he punched me after I told him what had happened. He closed the distance to the barrier and placed his palm directly on the other side of mine.

  “You’re so beautiful. If only things had been different,” he admitted.

  Jerking my hand away, I backed away from him and his searching eyes, disgust rising into my throat. My face twisted with it and I had to fight the urge to spit.

  “Don’t you dare cross that line, Nero. It doesn’t change anything.”

  “Don’t say that,” he said angrily through gritted teeth. “Don’t say that.”

  I practically ran back up to the glass and slammed my fist into it, right where his face would have been if it weren’t in the way. Screaming, the menagerie of emotions I felt at the moment boiled over into the words I would speak next.

  “You are a traitor. You are a murderer. Nothing more. And I hate you,” I cried, tears beginning to stream down my cheeks as they flushed red. “I hate you, Nero! Now, with your help, I’m going to die too. Your hands will never be clean again, and I hope that the memory of me will haunt you until your last breath.”

  “Stop,” he fumed.

  “I fucking hate you, Nero.”

  I backed away until my shoulder blades met the far wall, my gaze never leaving his, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Mila…”

  “Stop,” I sobbed, shaking my head. “I’d rather see King than you. At least King is honest about who he is. Please, just go.”

  The muscles in his arms flexed and coiled. If he could have, I was certain he would have lashed out at me just so he could say he could. But even he knew that if he stepped foot in my cage, I could kill him without effort. Much like King, he wasn’t finished with me just yet. When he turned to walk away, I caught a smirk on his lips out of the corner of my eye, causing rage to smolder even hotter inside me.

  As I stood there, he disappeared, and the clear barrier turned back into the metal that blocked out every bit of artificial light in the plane, leaving me to the darkness again.

  Chapter

  FOUR

  The silent dark was a welcome sight after the confrontation with Nero. I meant every word I said. I hated him with everything I had inside me. There was no denying that. If it weren’t for the barrier between us, I would have hit him. When I saw him, I had never been so inclined toward violence in my life, and the reprieve of his absence made all the difference in the moments following.

  Sitting in the middle of the floor, real leg crossed over my prosthetic so it didn’t fall asleep, I rocked back and forth with anxiety. I wasn’t certain what awaited me while I sat there, but a feeling of dread spread over me with Nero’s last lingering look. Like he knew something was coming. My heart raced, and I fought to slow it with deep, steady breaths that did absolutely nothing to stop my racing mind. I had been in this place before. Well, not this place exactly, but similar. In the Spartan Compound, locked in my living quarters and separated from everyone else. Only, this time, there was one big difference. I was long gone from the sterile world of the labs, forced into a box of ultimate darkness that was stuffy and unbearable. There were no windows or doors to see out of, and I only got a dose of light when my captors decided it was necessary. Which was rare. The only light I had been exposed to was during the few times I had been visited by King and Nero, plus once with the artificial light lining the ceiling of my prison.

  As if sensing my thoughts, the blue lights flickered to life. I blinked past them, even the lights made for more sensitive people too much past the absolute pitch black I had grown accustomed to. Jumping to my feet, I stumbled slightly, catching myself quickly with hands out to my sides. The smell of something sweet and burning infiltrated my senses. Looking up toward the lights, small vents had opened up in the ceiling, pumping gas the color of light pink cotton candy into the room. My vision cleared just enough to watch it float down toward me as I backed away from it, knowing full well that there was no way to avoid it. It continued to pour in until it coated the floor. It felt like soft, featherlight gauze against my skin, each nerve in my body slowly going numb with the contact.

  A distinct whine of gears and robotics starting up caused my heart to jump in my chest. My breaths came in short, clipped gasps as I unwillingly breathed in the gas they pumped into the room. I would have held my breath if I thought it would do any good. It seemed that didn’t even matter. It would work its way into my system regardless if the sensations in my body were any indication. My eyelids began to droop, and my entire body began to weaken, one muscle at a time.

  “Stay awake,” I whispered to myself.

  I squinted past the light and fatigue as best I could, but still barely saw the large door open and blurry black shapes file in with what seemed to be massive guns gripped tightly. Blinking one more time, everything came into focus. That was when I saw the gas masks strapped to the soldier’s faces, even more menacing when all I could see were their harsh eyes. My breathing picked up, and adrenaline pushed its way into my veins, causing the effects of the gas to lessen substantially once my back met the wall behind me. The soldiers came closer, and before they filled the room, I spied Nero hanging back with a sinister grin plastered on his face – gray eyes dark.

  “Get away from me.”

  I reached out toward the soldiers, my power swirling into my hand, but nothing more than that. My vision swam, and my body started to go limp, my arm falling just a few inches. I completely lost focus, and the power was gone, deep down in the recesses of wherever inside of me it came from. Pink, the same color as the gas floating around me, swam into my vision around the edges, and my lids fluttered.

  “Get away from me,” I yelled, barely able to see past the pink haze.

  One soldier reached up and pressed a finger into his ear against a small communication device. His breaths inside the mask echoed, but his words were clear.

  “Permission to wand her, sir?”

  A voice came through the speakers in the room. Obviously, King wanted me to hear him. To know he was intent on doing whatever he wanted no matter how hard I fought against his will. He had learned.

  “Permission granted
. You might as well tranq her too. If the gas didn’t work, we obviously need more juice. Do whatever it takes,” King ordered.

  “Roger that,” the soldier replied. He gestured with a finger toward another person in the room behind him. “You heard the man.”

  My muscles were sluggish, and if I could have reacted to avoid anything, I would have. In a matter of seconds, I felt the jab of a tranquilizer dart and the growing numbness spreading out from the prick of burning pain. I knew exactly what this was. Paralisix flooded my veins, black spots forming in my vision just over the pink fog. I felt my body resist the drug, and they must have seen it because each one of them tensed, and then flew toward me with stun wands in hand. I had seen the wands in action plenty of times before. They worked much like a tazer, but I had never been on the receiving end of one in my life.

  Surging forward, one of the men lashed out with the stun wand, striking me in the apex of my belly, stinging with such intensity my vision blacked out for a second and my body convulsed. Even more came down on me, and as I screamed in electric agony, I knew they wouldn’t stop until I stopped moving.

  It didn’t last long. After the fifth jolt, I felt as if I left my body, and nothing existed.

  Chapter

  FIVE

  I felt cold, my flesh broken out into goosebumps as the chilled air rolled over my entire body. My bare back lay still against something hard. My throat and mouth were parched as if I had been wandering in the desert for days without finding a single source of even just a drop of water to save my dying body. There was an odd sensation of tepid warmth where the surfaces met. Every cell in my being felt like it was on fire, lighting up with small spikes of electricity. Certainly an after-effect of the stun wands the cloaked soldiers had used against me along with the Paralisix. Something that hadn’t been used on me long enough ago that I almost didn’t recognize it, but it was different this last time. It worked much quicker than it had in the forest while we were on the run, and my body seemed to be unable to resist it as swiftly.

  The speed of the drug’s effects weren’t nearly as important as one other factor. The sensation that I wasn’t alone caused me to panic. The last time I had been in a room with others, it resulted in Cato’s death, and I could not be responsible for another person’s end. Not like that. I had been sweating as well. My hair stuck to my face and neck as well as any portion of my back that wasn’t plastered to the slab I lay on. Beeping echoed through the room – my heartbeat in surround sound, but still barely audible in my bad ear.

  My eyes shot open, blinding light and white walls assaulting my retinas with their brilliance. They burned with searing pain and fatigue, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut before I could make out any detail. Everything had been white and sterile – that was all I could make out besides the odd shapes of other people in the room. And there was something else. I knew my flesh met the slab directly, but it had taken me much longer to realize I was completely nude, only straps holding me down. The urge to sob uncontrollably almost won out, but I held it back. Whoever had brought me into this place had even removed my prosthetic and sleeve, leaving my remaining leg a naked stump of flesh. It was painful without the compression of the sleeve, but the vulnerability of my nakedness was the most jarring.

  They would not see my terror. I couldn’t let them even though the anxiety was on the verge of strangling me with the cries I fought to swallow.

  “Doctor, she is awake,” a high, unrecognizable feminine voice stated.

  Her voice was cold and clean – crisp just like my surroundings. Dizziness overtook my senses even though my lids were still squeezed shut. It felt as if the table I lay on could fall over with me on it. Deep breath in. Steadier. Another.

  “Thank you,” a deep and resonating male voice sounded.

  Attempting to ignore the pain that radiated through my entire body did no good. I recognized some of the effects as remnants of the stun wands, but some of them were wonderful leftovers from the Paralisix. If I could have moved, I had a feeling each muscle would have been stiff – already achy. My head pounded, the sounds and the lights illuminating through my eyelids making it much worse.

  I knew I wouldn’t get any relief here. Not like at the Spartan Compound where the doctors and scientists at least tried to act like they gave a damn. Not here. They didn’t care about how I felt or what happened to me. I was a tool. I knew it. Everyone knew it.

  The surprise of a warm hand coated in smooth latex caused my eyes to pop open and frantically scan my surroundings. Blue and red computer screens turned the white walls into a kaleidoscope of blinding purples, the white of them shining through and nearly dominating. Men and women stood around me in lab coats and scrubs, masks obscuring their faces as they covered their mouths and noses. The man beside me had kind, brown eyes framed with thick lashes. Black hair swooped across his forehead, and his skin was a lovely color, speaking of his Asian nationality. The small peak was enough to know his genetic background, but I didn’t care to know the man. The faster I could get out of that room, the better.

  “Where am I?” I asked, the panic causing my voice to come out in a miniscule squeak of sound.

  “Somewhere special, Miss Hunter. You’re going to be spending a lot of time in here, and we’re going to get to know each other very well. That’s all you need to know.” He said the last statement with a dismissive wave of a gloved hand.

  Not a true answer, but there was never any such thing in the world we lived in. We only got evasions and half-truths. What the doctor just said to me was a shining example of both.

  I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat, each deep breath only causing my heart to slam into my ribcage instead of the desired effect. My mind raced as I scanned the room. Shuffling feet, the beep of the machines, and hushed whispers were the only sounds. Each person went about their responsibilities, but the man at my side held most of my attention.

  “Mr. President, would you like to begin prep?” he asked, eyes shifting toward a silent observer above my head.

  My gaze shifted upward, neck straining. Sparkling onyx eyes stared down at me. I couldn’t actually see the grin King wore. It creepily reached his eyes past the mask that matched all the others. His hair was neat — slicked back per usual.

  “Yes, Doctor Tee. Full prep must be complete before we reach D.C.,” he responded, flat in affect. “Or all of this would be a waste of our resources and time. If I could guarantee my own body would not reject implantation, I would’ve just taken her ability and taken care of this myself. No,” he paused, “the Fallen Paradigm must take the fall. That is the only way this will work. Which means she needs to die in the blast so it can’t be refuted. This is the only way.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” Doctor Tee stated with a curt nod.

  The doctor moved away from the slab and to the other side of the room where two other people draped in sterile garb stood, working on something I couldn’t see. As soon as he was gone, my head swiveled to the side, resting my cheek on the cool metal. I couldn’t look at King, but when my eyes met those of Nero standing guard just inside the door, I decided looking at him was much worse a fate than at King. A chill of terror swept through me when his cool gaze moved over my entire body, lingering with a mixture of scientific curiosity and interest of another kind I chose to ignore. A tear I didn’t realize had formed wept from the corner of my eye and slid down to the metal surface below me.

  I had not even the smallest inclination of what was in store for me, but what I did know was that having Nero’s eyes roam over me in such a way made me even more uncomfortable than I already had been. What didn’t help matters was that I was frigid and my heart beat wildly within my chest.

  I am a giant!

  The feelings from the Spartan Compound came flooding back — that King could squash me with one shining loafer, ending my determination and my life. I felt the thou
ght waver and my muscles tremble, which both Nero and King observed in interest. Exasperation took over in that instant, overriding the fear for what may happen to me in that room.

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be, Nero?” I quipped.

  Laughter burst forth from King’s covered mouth, and leaning over me, he slapped one gloved hand on the metal beside my head uproariously. The metal shook with each slam, causing me to flinch and pull at my restraints – rubbing my skin raw. Annoyance quickly made way for dread.

  “Oh, you have to love her spirit!” King nearly shouted through the room.

  Shoulders bunched up as each person in the room reacted to his glee, scared and amused all at once. I had to admit that, if I were on their side of the war, I would have probably had the same reaction. The only two that hadn’t were Nero and the man King called Doctor Tee, who was still on the other side of the room moving in repetitious motions as if preparing something. Glass clinked against metal, and that was the only clue as to what was in store.

  Nero sauntered toward me, barely registering anyone else in the room. I had angered him, and he was intent on violence. I could tell by the way he moved that was his intention. The muscles in his arms coiled and flexed. He glided across the room, and as soon as he reached my prone form, his fingers closed into a tight fist and came down with so much force my head bounced and smashed onto the metal slab.

  My head rocked, and I felt as if my entire brain shifted inside my skull, my jaw pounding with a deep and throbbing ache. In an instant, the power I hadn’t felt the entire time I was in my lead prison unfurled and spread through my body with intense warmth, causing my flesh to break out in a cold sweat. A growl escaped from my slightly parted lips, power bursting into my hands and out in an invisible wave that only I could feel as it ricocheted off the walls, the people, and the machines. Every nerve fiber was on fire. Particles began to flake off the walls as metal and paint peeled away, much like what I had done to Famke’s arm. Shouts, gasps, and screams of horror echoed through the room – a few of the nurses and doctors attempted to scramble away. King yelled out, but I couldn’t make out the words.