by S. Harrison
“It’s very difficult to argue with that little logic bomb,” murmurs Dr. Pierce.
The Professor’s brow is creased with frustrated anger. But after a moment he eventually sighs and grudgingly nods in agreement.
“I know what I did was unforgivable,” says Bit. “But I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me. I need to do this.”
Percy nods solemnly. “She needs to undo whatever she’s done.”
“And I’m going every step of the way, right beside her,” I say determinedly. Bit looks up at me, and her lips twitch into a trembling smile.
“Absolutely not, Finn,” says Jonah. “Your head isn’t clear.”
“She’s my best friend,” I growl. “And this is my fault, too. I’m going.”
“No,” he grunts. “It’s far too dangerous.”
“That’s all the more reason why I should go!” I shout at him.
“You’re not well!” barks Jonah. “What if you black out again? Not only will you endanger your own life, but you’ll jeopardize the plan as well. I won’t allow it.”
“I’m telling you . . . I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not!” Jonah yells. “Do you remember what happened in the other room? You don’t, do you? Well, I’ll tell you what happened. You attacked me!”
The room goes completely silent. Everyone else looks just as dumbfounded by Jonah’s outburst as I do. What he just said is so ridiculous I actually laugh out loud. “Why on earth would I do that?”
A highly flustered, red-faced Jonah almost looks embarrassed as he takes a breath and tries to regain his composure.
“Give me one good reason why I would attack you?” I ask, frowning at him. “The man that raised me since I was two years old?”
Jonah opens his mouth and raises one finger, but he’s obviously stumped for an answer.
“That’s what I thought,” I sigh.
“Look, all I’m saying is . . . you’re not a hundred percent and . . . you could get hurt out there,” Jonah says.
First he tries to keep me down here with a lie about how I attacked him, and now he’s being a patronizing dick. I feel a flicker of anger growing in my belly. This argument is starting to piss me off.
“Any one of us could get injured or even killed up there,” I growl. “You heard what Dr. Pierce said. I can heal instantly without even thinking. And if that can help keep Bit alive, then I’m going with her.”
“The only thing Dr. Pierce has is a theory,” argues Jonah. “So stop being so pigheaded, and leave this to us. You’re staying down here.”
Suddenly a burning fury surges through me. I quickly scan around. I spot a scalpel sitting in a tray on top of a trolley just behind me, and I swear I can hear a voice in my head whisper, “Do it.” It almost feels as if my hand is lunging out on its own, and before Jonah has a chance to make up another ludicrous story or bark another order at me, I quickly pull the sleeve of my top all the way to my bicep, snatch the scalpel up from the trolley, and stab the point hard into my flesh. With one deft stroke, I slash the blade all the way from my wrist to my elbow.
Everyone in the room instantly recoils in shock as my skin splits open in one long, clean gaping incision. The pain hits immediately, but I can hear chiming tones ringing in the back of my mind as well, the sounds and the sensation mixing into a stinging thread that sears along my arm.
“Finn!” screeches Bit.
“Oh my god!” shrieks Margaux.
“She’s gone insane!” shouts Brent.
Panting short, adrenalized breaths, I place the scalpel back onto the trolley and hold my fist out as blood streams in thick rivulets down the sides of my arm. I stare at Jonah’s stunned face, and ribbons of unfettered anger thrash through every inch of my body like tentacles of fire. Suddenly, I don’t know why, but I feel like I want to leap across the space between us and choke Jonah to the floor until his eyes bulge out of his big bald head. In fact, I’m picturing it so clearly I can almost see it.
“Her arm,” Dr. Pierce gasps gleefully. “Look at her arm!”
“I can see it!” screeches Brent. “She’s lost her freaking mind!”
“No!” a grinning Dr. Pierce blurts. “It’s working! Just like I said!”
The bleeding has stopped as quickly as it began, and I watch with my own eyes as the ten-inch gash in my flesh seals closed as if the edges were being drawn together like strips of magnetic tape. My rage begins to fade, and I smear the blood away with the palm of my hand. Everyone in the room is staring at my arm, and it’s plain to see that the cut is completely healed. Not even a scratch remains.
“This conversation is over. I’m going with Bit,” I say, calmly tugging my sleeve back down to my wrist. “And Margaux was right; I won’t be needing any Band-Aids.”
Jonah eyeballs me with a military glower. “Was that reckless little demonstration of yours really necessary?”
“It got my point across, didn’t it?” I reply. “And now we know that Dr. Pierce was right about my healing ability.”
“Hell of a way to test it,” says Jonah. “The Finn I know would never be so foolish.”
Another confusing surge of anger ripples through me. “Yeah, well . . . I guess I’m not the Finn you used to know.”
“Clearly,” Jonah sighs. “Obviously it’s pointless for me to argue with you. I can’t force you to stay behind.”
“If you did try to stop me, one of us would get hurt,” I reply venomously. “And I think you know it sure as hell wouldn’t be me.”
Jonah glances at me disapprovingly, then looks begrudgingly around the rest of the group. “Is everyone else willing to let her participate?”
Bit and Brody nod enthusiastically.
“Like I said,” Percy chips in, “I think we’ve got a better chance of pulling this off with her help.”
Jonah’s indignant expression becomes one of resentful resignation. “Fine then. But if you mess anything up,” he says, pointing at me. “It’s on you.” With one last glare at me, he leans down, grabs the handle straps of a bright-yellow canvas duffel bag sitting at his feet, and hoists it onto the trolleys. The holographic map of Blackstone Technologies flickers and vanishes as he sets the bag directly on top of the slates.
“I was preparing a training simulation inside Dome Three when the power failed and the dome collapsed,” says Jonah. “I stumbled over this rescue kit when I was digging my way out of the grains.” He unzips the bag and begins unpacking the contents on top of the array of slates.
When he’s done, I take a quick inventory. There are nylon ropes, carabiners and harnesses, six walkie-talkies, six heavy-duty metal flashlights, and three sets of binoculars, as well as a bunch of road flares, a first-aid kit, and a loose collection of survival-type objects like waterproof matches, a packet of foil blankets, a snare kit for catching small animals, a compass, glow sticks, and a few other moderately useful knickknacks someone might take on a hiking trip.
“This is some of the equipment my specialized team uses during training exercises,” Jonah says as he arranges the gear.
“The ones that pulled us out of the wreck when our transport crashed into Dome Two?” asks Jennifer.
“Yes,” says Jonah. “Bettina told me they were a big help.”
“We nearly escaped on that transport,” Jennifer says sadly. “We were so close to flying far away from this horrible place.”
“But we didn’t get out, did we,” murmurs Brent. “We’re still here, and thank you very much for reminding me just how screwed we are.”
“The only reason you’re alive to be reminded is because of Major Brogan’s rescue team,” Bit says, eyeballing him disdainfully.
As Bit mentions Jonah’s team, a strangely familiar voice suddenly whispers through my head. “We’re the Saviors,” it says. The words echo in my ears, and a shape begins forming out of the fog in the back of my mind. Wisps of smoke curl and mold into the blurry peaks and curves of human features. The image condenses and solidifies, th
en flushes with color before it sharpens into the pretty face of a teenage girl. She must be fifteen or sixteen years old, with dark pixie-cut hair and kind light-brown eyes. “I’m Caitlin,” she says, smiling down at me. “But everyone calls me—”
“Gazelle!” I gasp.
“Finn? You remember Gazelle?” asks Jonah.
“Yes,” I reply. “I . . . I remember she was carrying me, on her back. The wind was rushing through my hair, and I was holding on as tightly as I could, and . . . and then there was an explosion in the distance. The last time I saw her, she was running faster than I’ve ever seen anyone run before . . . and she was heading straight toward the huge cloud of black smoke and fire.”
“That sounds like her,” says Jonah. “Running toward danger is second nature to the Saviors.”
“The Saviors? Is that what they’re called?” asks Margaux.
“That’s right,” Jonah says, nodding proudly. “They’re some of the most capable young people I’ve ever had the pleasure to work with.”
“What are they exactly?” Brent grumbles. “More freaks like her, I bet?” He looks sideways at me.
“Well, Major?” Professor Francis says, eyeing Jonah suspiciously. “Are those children another one of your experiments? Adolescent spies hiding behind a heroic title perhaps?”
“No, Professor,” Jonah says with polite annoyance. “All the members of the Saviors were once military operatives, but all of them were injured in some way and retired from service. I repurposed them, and now they’re part of a rescue team with very special abilities.”
“Like Finn?” asks Brody.
“No,” replies Jonah. “Finn is one of a kind. The Saviors’ already considerable skills are complemented by their advanced cybernetic implants.”
“What can they do, Major?” Bit asks with a fascinated expression on her face.
“Well, I assume some of you saw Gazelle. Her real name is Caitlin Grant, and her replacement limbs enable her to run at extraordinary speeds. Lila Volkov is code-named Bulldog. She has a reinforced skeleton, and her torso and arm implants give her incredible strength. Jackson Pike, code-named Jackdaw, was a brilliant young technical engineer until his accident, and now his right hand is a sophisticated multitool of his own design. William Solarin is known as Kestrel. He’s the pilot of the group, and his neural implants provide him with lightning-quick reflexes and dexterity. Saloma Lasonde is the fifth member of the group. Her ocular implants can receive and project almost every wavelength in the electromagnetic spectrum, giving her remarkable vision. Her code name is Mantis.”
“Oh, I get it,” says Jennifer. “Like a mantis shrimp. They’ve got the most amazing eyesight in the animal kingdom. We studied them in biology.”
“That’s right,” says Jonah. “She chose her code name for exactly that reason. And the sixth and final member is the leader of the Saviors. A resourceful young man, with a cybernetic arm, whose code name is Zero.”
As Jonah mentions the one called Zero, I notice his eyes flick toward me and linger like he’s expecting some kind of reaction. I glare back, frowning questioningly, and he quickly looks away. What the hell? Yelling at me, accusing me of ridiculous things, trying to order me around, and now weird little looks? Something strange is going on with Jonah. He’s not being the man I know, and it’s starting to creep me out.
“Wow. They all sound so cool,” Bit says goofily.
“Except for Zero,” Brent says snidely. “He’s got a lame code name.”
“He also has a long and complicated history. But if you’re ever in a pinch, trust me, you’d want Zero by your side,” Jonah says, eyeballing me weirdly again.
“Have you been able to contact any of them?” Percy asks Jonah. “I know I’m stating the obvious, but a rescue team is exactly what we need right now.”
“No, I lost contact with them when the power went out,” says Jonah. “The signals to their headsets were relayed through the transport, but of course that went up in flames. There were walkie-talkies on board as well, and I’ve been trying to reach them on the agreed channels, but so far . . . there’s no reply. Hopefully they’ve found somewhere safe to hide, and once we repair Onix, we can access the facility’s loudspeaker system to notify the Saviors and any remaining survivors that help is on the way.”
“And the sooner we do that, the better,” says Dr. Pierce.
Jonah nods in agreement. “One final run-through, just so everything is clear. Bettina, Brody, and Finn, you’ll go with Dr. Pierce to the reservoir hatch. He’ll open it and wait while you three climb to the manhole in the center of Dome Two. With no set program running, the dome will be completely empty, except for the transport wreckage, but it will be dark in there, so you’ll need to take flashlights.
“When you retrieve the slate, Dr. Pierce will take you to the computer core in Sector A, and then, Bettina, the rest is up to you. We’ll all keep in contact with the walkie-talkies, but should anything go wrong, get back to the hatch. If you can’t make it back, find somewhere to hide, and if there’s nowhere to hide . . . run.” Jonah looks around the group of solemn faces. “Are there any questions?”
No one says a word, but all of a sudden the flash of gunfire that ended Ryan’s life bursts into my mind again, lighting up the emotionless stare in the cold eyes of the evil bastard who killed him. “What about Captain Delgado?” I mutter as I try to shake the image from my head. “He’s a slippery snake. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s still alive up there somewhere.”
Jonah’s expression darkens into a look of grim contemplation. “I’ve been told what he did, and while there’s no excusing his actions, I know firsthand how a misguided intent to protect others can drive people to do unspeakable things.”
Jonah glances at me from the corner of his eye for a split second, and for some reason an uneasy shudder ripples through my entire body.
“If you see Captain Delgado or any of his soldiers, my advice is to run the other way,” Jonah says sternly. “When this is over, I will personally see to it that my old friend is brought to justice before a military court of his peers. He’ll pay for what he’s done. I promise you that.”
My hands tighten into fists, and my jaw clenches. If I see the Captain, I sure as hell won’t be running the other way. I’ll dispense my own justice. And I’ll enjoy every sweet second of it.
“Your school satchels will easily hold a flashlight and a walkie-talkie,” continues Jonah. “But it might be a good idea to take a can or two of Dr. Pierce’s spray-on bandages as well. I’m sure you won’t have to use them, but it’s better to have them and not need them than to need them and—”
“Watch as your blood leaks out of your bullet-ridden bodies?” says a twitchy-eyed Brent.
Jonah throws a disapproving sideways glare at Brent. “The Professor clearly made a wise decision to leave you out of this.”
“Hey, that’s fine with me,” Brent says, raising his hands in mock acceptance. “If you guys don’t make it, I’ll be safe and sound down here.”
“Slowly starving to death,” says Bit.
Brent’s silence and sour expression are supremely satisfying to witness.
“I . . . I’d like to help,” squeaks Jennifer. “If there’s anything I can do . . . I’d really like to.”
Jonah smiles at her. “Are you sure?”
She meekly nods her head.
“Brave girl. OK then.” Jonah picks up one of the walkie-talkies and tosses it to Jennifer. With a clumsy finger-dancing fumble, she manages to catch hold of it. “You can come through to the far hatch with us and keep lookout. You’ll stay by the opening, and the moment you feel you’re in any danger, get back underground right away.”
Jennifer nods, and Jonah turns to Percy and Professor Francis. “Gentlemen, are you ready?”
“Absolutely,” Percy replies as he and the Professor walk around the trolleys to join Jonah beside the oxygen tanks. In what I can only assume was part of a previous discussion, both men lay the tanks
down on their sides, take nylon harnesses from the assortment of gear, and begin fixing them securely to the heavy metal canisters in a clever effort to make them easier to carry.
Jonah turns to Bit. “It should take us about twenty minutes to lug these through the tunnel to the other hatch and another ten minutes to get to the rooftop of the building I have picked out. When we get to the hatch, I’ll radio back and you can make your way up to the other exit point. The R.A.M.s will be on the move toward us as soon as we’re out in the open, so be ready to exit your hatch as soon as they’re a good distance away from you.”
Bit is trying to look brave as she listens to Jonah, but her slightly quickened breathing is giving away her apprehension, and Jonah can see it as clear as day. He puts a hand on her shoulder and looks down into her eyes. “Keep your mind on the task. You’ve got Finn and Brody and Dr. Pierce to help you,” he says with a reassuring smile. “And don’t worry about us. The R.A.M.s won’t be able to reach us on the rooftop. I’ll make sure everyone is as safe as they can possibly be.”
“It’ll be a piece of cake,” Percy says, grinning at her with his perfectly straight, flawlessly white teeth.
“OK,” she says nervously, looking down at a small version of the holographic map that’s floating above the slate in her hands.
Jonah helps Percy and the Professor sling the harnesses over their shoulders and position their oxygen tanks as comfortably as possible against their hips. Then he packs some of the flares, two flashlights, two pairs of binoculars, carabiners, and a rope into the yellow duffel bag and zips it closed. He clips one of the walkie-talkies to his belt, hoists the harness of the third tank onto his shoulder, grabs the duffel bag, and looks over at Jennifer. “All set?” he asks, and she nods determinedly. “Alright then. Let’s go.”
Percy gives a serious nod and heads toward the opening to the passageway that leads into the tunnels.
