by S. Harrison
It’s dark in the transport, but I see an anxious-looking Gazelle staring in our direction. She’s sitting on a fold-out seat that’s attached to the wall, with her shattered legs dangling in front of her. Strapped to a stretcher on the floor beside Gazelle is an armless, glowering Percy, and lying near him is Professor Francis’s silver-blanket-wrapped body. Brent sits in a seat against the wall, clinging to a cargo strap and glaring out a window as Mantis and Margaux come jogging over. They’re wearing headsets and carrying half a dozen more between them. They crouch down beside us and begin handing them out. Everybody takes one. Margaux even slips one onto me and another onto a painfully grimacing Jonah.
Blood is seeping through my fingers, and it isn’t stopping.
“Oh my god!” Margaux’s electronic-tinged voice screeches through my headset. I glower up at her with stern disapproval. “Sorry,” she says with a sheepish look on her face as Commander Zero leans in and gently removes my hands from the blood pooling on the yellow plastic over Jonah’s stomach.
Jack has arranged the medical supplies he needs for a field dressing in a small pile by his boot. I realize he needs room to access the wounds, so I grudgingly shuffle backward out of the way. Jack takes my place, and Commander Zero gets to work cutting the radiation suit open with a scalpel. Zero grabs an injection gun from the kit and jabs it into Jonah’s exposed, blood-smeared stomach as Jack quickly replaces one of his metallic fingers with a pincer attachment.
Jonah looks so pale, but he grabs my arm tightly, and I can hear his distorted voice in my headset as he speaks. “Mariele,” he says through gritted teeth. “Save Mariele.”
My eyes widen, and I nervously scan the cargo hold for Bit. In my panic over Jonah, I had completely forgotten about Mariele.
“Are you talking about your friend’s sister?” Mantis asks. “It’s OK,” she says. “Your friend is up front, directing the pilot to land near her location.”
I lunge at the wall and peer out the window as we fly over the long stairs, the plateau, Dome Two, and the field with the winding path that leads to the promenade. Even though she’s up at the front of the transport and out of my sight, I can hear Bit’s voice through my headset as she guides the pilot. “There,” she says. “Land as close to that alleyway between those two buildings as you can.”
The pilot seems to know exactly what he’s doing as the transport quickly descends, and he skillfully swings it around to touch down on the ground. The ramp begins to lower as Bit emerges from the cockpit door and runs toward Jonah and the rest of us.
“What happened!” she screeches as she looks down at Jonah in horror.
“Dean lost his mind and shot him,” I tell her.
“Oh my god.” Bit holds her hand over her mouth in shock.
Jack has just finished applying a thick layer of spray bandage when he looks up at Jonah. “I’ve removed the bullets, but you’ve got internal bleeding, sir,” he says grimly. “I’ve done all I can. We need to get you to a hospital as soon as possible.”
“Forget about me . . . and save Mariele.” Jonah’s face contorts with pain.
“I need to go,” Bit says desperately. “I need to find her.”
“Go, Finn . . . help your friend,” growls Jonah. “There’s nothing else you can do for me.”
“I’ll stay with him,” says Brody.
“Me, too,” says Margaux.
I nod thanks to both of them and give Jonah the bravest smile I can. Jonah smiles back, then looks around at all the Saviors. “Do your job, help them save Mariele. That’s an order.”
Without hesitation Commander Zero throws him a salute; points at Mantis, Bulldog, and Jackdaw; and juts his hand toward the open cargo door. Commander Zero, the Saviors, and I all quickly spring to our feet, and Bit leads the way as we all rush toward the exit.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
As we emerge from the rear of the transport, I can see that we’ve landed impressively close to the alleyway between the buildings. Bit and I both launch into a sprint, and the others follow in a tight group behind us down the dimly lit, open-top corridor formed by the outer walls of the buildings on either side.
I estimate that we’ve only got about eight minutes until we’re all deep-fried and crispy, and the urgency is palpable as our group barrels into the little courtyard by the pagoda. With little to no time to spare, I skid to a stop and fling open the lid to the hatch, and Bit jumps right in. I follow close behind her and slide down the copper-colored pipe and out onto the metal grating at the bottom. Bit has already taken off. I quickly rush after her without looking back. Behind me, I can hear the Saviors dropping in one by one. Frantic footsteps echo all around as shadows flit across the walls in the grimy yellow light of the low-ceilinged rust-orange tunnel.
Bit leaps down the short flight of metal-grating steps, races down another stretch of grating, and arrives at the door of the rickety elevator only a few seconds before me. She pulls open the cage door, and we both leap inside as heavily breathing bodies soon begin piling in after us.
Zero pulls the cage shut, and I press the bottom button. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we have six and a half minutes to get out of here alive, but it feels like the elevator is moving at a snail’s pace, and Jack is certainly not helping by humming the tune from “Girl from Ipanema” as we descend.
The elevator finally comes to a shuddering stop, Zero pulls open the door, and we all pile out. Bit dashes to the front of the group, and everyone quickly follows her down a short corridor into the main room of Dr. Pierce’s lab.
“All we know is that Mariele is down here somewhere,” I shout between breaths. “Mantis, can you see through walls with those eyes?”
“Pretty much, Commander,” she replies.
“Look for life signs or body heat. We’re searching for a thirty-five-year-old woman who looks a lot like her,” I say, pointing at Bit.
Suddenly yellow, red, green, purple, and blue lights stream out of the array of lenses on Mantis’s face and scatter everywhere in the room. “I’m not picking up any heat, but I can see residual marks on the floor. The most foot traffic is coming to and from that way,” she says, pointing down a corridor to the left. “And there are also signs of wheel trails; I’m guessing a wheelchair or gurney.”
“Then that’s our best bet,” I say.
Mantis nods and takes off down the corridor with beams shining from her eyes all the way. All of us run right after her. Past the shower room we go, with Mantis leading the way, and she soon ducks into a room on her left. It’s a medium-size room with a gray concrete floor, and rows of bright lamps positioned over long tables of potted flowers and seedlings cover the low ceiling. It’s where I woke up after the monorail fell on my head.
Mantis scans her beams over all of it. “Far wall,” she says as she skirts around the tables and dashes across the room. She comes to a stop at a blank concrete wall. “There’s a switch here.” Mantis’s beams cut off as she crouches down and presses a screw on an ordinary-looking electrical outlet. Suddenly there’s a whirring noise, and the entire wall begins sliding aside. It’s a secret room.
Blue lights in the ceiling blink on. The chamber is about twenty feet deep and fifteen feet wide; it’s tiny. An empty gurney with wheels is pushed up against one wall, but lining another is a row of large cylindrical glass and stainless-steel containers. And in those containers are people. Dead, preserved people.
Bettina pushes past all of us and hurriedly goes from one container to the next, scanning over the remains. Even though none of the corpses are Mariele, there’s no sign of relief on Bit’s face as she runs toward a large stainless-steel door set into the far wall. Commander Zero, Jack, Mantis, Bulldog, and I stride after her.
“No, no, no,” Bit says over and over as she reaches the door, and her hands hover over an electronic keypad set into it.
I look at Bulldog. “Lila, can you open that door?”
“I will try, Commander,” she says as she steps forward.
We all give her room as she rears back, flexing both her cybernetic arms at her sides and balling her metal hands into tight fists. There’s a humming sound, then a high-pitched whine as the seams between her silver muscles glow orange, then red, then bright white. Suddenly her arms piston forward and slam into the door, punching two large holes right through it. Lila grunts with effort, and there’s the squeal of twisting metal as she pulls the door and tears it completely off its hinges. Lila slides the door aside as Bit dashes past her through the doorway into a dark room, and I run in right behind her. As soon as we enter, bright lights flicker on all over the ceiling.
This new room is large. The walls and floor are white and sterile looking, but there’s a rug on the floor, a television on one wall, a desk against another, and a bookshelf filled with books. There’s an exercise bike in one corner, beside a toilet and a small sink, and on a bed against the far wall of the room, under the covers, squinting, blinking, and just waking up, is a woman with long dark, frizzy hair and big brown eyes.
“Mariele,” whimpers Bit. “It’s me, Bettina.”
Mariele’s forehead furrows, and tears well in her eyes as she throws the covers off, leaps out of bed, and strides toward Bit. She’s wearing a white t-shirt and shorts, and apart from looking older than she did in her photograph, she seems relatively healthy and strong for someone who has been imprisoned in this room for almost nine whole years. Bit lunges at Mariele, and they wrap their arms tightly around each other as Mariele sobs with joy.
As heartwarming as this reunion is, if we don’t leave in a hurry, we’re all as good as dead. “We’ve got four minutes!” I shout.
Mariele looks over at me. “Finn?” she asks, staring in disbelief.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I say with a quick smile and a nod. “It’s great to see you, but we have to go, now.”
Bit pulls away from Mariele and looks her in the eyes. “Can you run?”
Mariele grins at her. “The way I feel right now, I could fly.”
“Then let’s get out of here,” Jack shouts. No one needs to be told again. Bit grabs Mariele by the hand, as we all turn and storm out of the room, past the dead bodies in their containers, past the tables of potted plants, out the door, down the hallway, through the lab, and along the corridor that leads to the elevator.
Zero pulls open the cage door so hard he actually rips it clean off its hinges. Even without the door, it’s a squeeze for all of us to fit inside the elevator with Mariele along for the ride. Somehow we manage it, and I push the second of the three buttons on the control panel.
The elevator slowly starts to rise, and the tension is palpable. “Three minutes,” I whisper.
“Oh, bugger this for a laugh,” says Jack, and he rips open the Velcro flap on his leg. He quickly detaches one of his metal fingers and replaces it with another much wider one with a flat tip. “Gimme a shoulder, Commander,” he says as he climbs out the open cage door.
Half hanging out over the twenty-foot drop, Zero crouches down, and Jackdaw stands on his metal shoulder with one boot. Zero stands, boosting Jack up, and Jack flops his torso on top of the elevator. Through the metal grating of the roof, I see Jackdaw push his cybernetic finger into the center of the cable wheel.
He shouts, “Hang on!” There’s a loud, whirring, squealing sound, and all of us stumble as the elevator suddenly lurches upward and begins climbing at four times the speed it was going before.
Smoke pours out of the elevator motor above us, but we reach our stop in five seconds flat. Jack pulls his finger free, jumps down onto the grating, and leads the group as quickly as he can back the way we came, up the metal steps and through the dimly lit tunnel to the hatch. Zero is just ahead of me, and I glance back along the line. Lila and Mantis are behind me, and bringing up the rear are Bit and Mariele, who seems to be having no trouble at all keeping up.
We reach the pipe that leads to the surface. One after another, we climb up it. Jack gets out first. Zero exits ahead of me, and he reaches down as I approach the top. I grab his metal hand, and with his cybernetic strength, I’m pulled right out of the pipe and airborne for half a second before landing softly on the ground beside the hatch. He does the same for Bulldog, Mantis, Bit, and Mariele, and soon we’re all sprinting as fast as our legs will carry us across the small courtyard by the pagoda, down the alleyway between the buildings and toward the open ramp of the transport.
“One minute!” I shout.
We’re so close. But that’s the moment when I see it, and my stomach twists into knots of absolute horror. Everyone running for their lives around me sees it. How could they not? It looks just like a shooting star, but it’s the biggest, brightest shooting star we’ll ever see. It’s so high it must still have miles to go until it hits, but the light coming from it is illuminating the whole night sky and touching everything around us with a soft orange glow. The looks of abject terror on the faces all around me are looks I’ll never forget.
We run.
That’s all any of us can do, and in this one singular moment, all of our lives have been boiled down to two simple elements. Run and hope. Up ahead, I can see Brody’s deathly anxious face staring at us as he stands on the ramp of the transport.
Panting for breath, all of us stumble up the ramp as the gentle orange glow from the falling Sword gets brighter and brighter through the row of small windows lining the walls of the cargo bay.
“Go! Let’s go!” Brody’s voice screams through the headset, and the pilot clearly hears it as the transport slams into full throttle and the turbines rage with furious blue flames. Every one of us crumples to the floor, and I can hear yells and screams through my earphones as the fifteen-ton vehicle catapults up through the air.
Using any handhold I can find, I manage to scramble across the floor and make it to the wall of the transport. We are still ascending quickly and must be a couple hundred feet off the ground by now. I look into the sky, and now I see that there are two shooting stars. I’m still watching, with my heart thudding in my chest, when in the far distance, the first Sword of Damocles strikes the ground on the other side of Dome One. I wince and shield my eyes as an intense white light suddenly bursts through the porthole. The entire dome is nothing but a vivid black silhouette for a fraction of a second before it’s completely gone altogether.
As quickly as the flash came, it vanishes, and in its place I can see a colossal mushroom cloud reaching into the night sky, the base of its burning charcoal-colored stem growing out of the ground where Dome One used to be. The unfathomably enormous explosion somehow doesn’t seem real; how could it be? It’s too terrifying, too overwhelming, and too destructive to exist. But I’m quickly reminded just how real it is as the sound and the shock wave hit us like a runaway freight train.
BOOOOOOOOM!
Without warning the whole transport flips upside down and rolls over in midair. Screams wail through my headset as people are thrown against the walls and roof and floor all around me. I hold on for dear life to anything that I can as the open ramp at the back of the aircraft rips away and spins into the day-bright night. Bodies are sliding and flailing, mouths are twisted, and faces are frozen in agonized masks of pure fear. Professor Francis’s corpse and the still-bound, armless Percy both tumble violently across the floor, thud against a wall, and skitter out the torn-open cargo door.
All around me people are grabbing and holding on to any kind of strap or belt or person or seat that they can. The entire aircraft is tilting and swerving, rising, dropping, and shuddering. The violent pitching left and right seems to carry on for an eternity, and I don’t know how, but at long last the frightening turbulence begins to wane, and the pilot manages to stabilize the transport. Incredibly, we’re still flying, and the light from the explosion quickly fades back into darkness. Soon the only sound is the roar of the turbines. They seemed so loud before, but now they might as well be a whisper compared to what we just went through. I’m grateful for their noise, because it means that we’re not fall
ing out of the sky in a metal tomb of fiery wreckage.
The transport levels out, and I slowly feel like I can breathe again.
We’re high in the sky and a safe distance away when the second, third, and fourth Swords hit. There’s groaning in my headset, and I look around the cabin. Everyone left seems to be alive and moving, albeit very slowly and painfully, as some get to their feet, check themselves for injuries, and reposition dislodged headsets. Gazelle is strapped into her seat nearby. I give her a concerned look and a hopeful thumbs-up. She returns it with a halfhearted smile and rubs a sore spot on her forehead. Brent looks rattled over there on his seat in the corner, but he seems otherwise OK. Bit and Mariele have crawled to each other and are sitting in the middle of the floor, smiling and staring at one another. Dean lies on the floor, awake, laughing as he glares at the roof of the cargo bay. There’s a sudden commotion, and my heart jumps into my throat as Mantis, Bulldog, Jack, Zero, and Margaux all scramble toward the only one of us who isn’t moving at all.
Jonah.
He’s in a crumpled heap on the other side of the transport. I quickly untangle my hand from the strap I was clinging to and hurriedly stumble across the floor toward him. I reach him just as Commander Zero is turning him over onto his back and straightening the headset on Jonah’s shiny bald head. Jonah lets out a pained and gurgling cough and opens his eyes. He’s alive. He looks up at all of us gathered around him, and his eyes fall on me.
“Finn,” he croaks as his lips curl into a feeble smile. “I need . . . to tell you . . .” His trembling fingers find my hand and gently squeeze it. “I need to say . . . that I’m so very sorry. I didn’t mean . . . to hurt you, Finn.”
“I know,” I reply as I wipe my nose on the back of my hand with a wet snuffle.
