by R. E. Rowe
“Let’s go, Rush, Pellegrini. Over here, double time!” Timms shouts over the loud rush of incoming wind. “Put on these belts and grab hold of the ropes. We expect resistance, so stay tight and light.”
I adjust my backpack and tighten the straps, and fumble with the rope. Bree helps me as if she’s an expert.
“Alpha Team, Rush, Pellegrini, go, go, go...” the sergeant yells. “Bravo Team, five seconds...”
Alpha team grabs onto ropes and glides out of the open door of the helicopter before we do.
My grip tightens on the rope. For some reason, I hold my breath, and then I jump out of the helicopter into pouring rain and wind. Crap. The waves alongside the Alaric I are massive, with towering white caps that any professional surfer would love to ride. It’s a long way down the rope to Alaric I's deck.
Bree descends smoothly and sticks the landing on the deck, then moves out of the way as if she’d practiced it a million times. I descend like a dirt clod and land on the ship’s deck in a heap. Not a good start. I gasp for breath and stagger back to my feet.
Bree is ten feet away and waving at me to move faster.
Thirty-feet overhead, the helicopter’s two large guns fire like a buzz saw, clearing a path for us.
Bullets fire back at the helicopter, whizzing above my head. Flashes of white light and thundering explosions ring out, sending me hard to the deck.
Bree doubles back and helps me to my feet while Alpha Team continues on ahead of us.
I glance back to see Bravo Team just starting to repel down the ropes with the Black Hawk helicopter struggling to stay steady in the driving rain. Suddenly, two flashes originating from the far end of cargo ship, streak towards the helicopter and hit it straight on. The explosion sends the helicopter lurching to the right. A second explosion hits the helicopter, sending Bree and I face down on the deck.
When I glance up, I see the helicopter explode into a huge fireball and descending out of control, dropping some of Bravo Team thirty feet onto the deck, while others are tossed out into the fierce ocean waves.
Fifty feet ahead of us, the Alpha Team reaches the ship’s entrance near a tower of cargo containers. Bree and I get to our feet and run towards them. Before we can get there, another explosion destroys the tower of containers and the entire Alpha Team.
Oh hell, they’re gone!
Bree and I are now completely exposed with no support. Bree points to another entrance. “Follow me.”
“Can’t we use our mind control tricks?” I shout.
“Won’t work,” Bree says. “These are Carmina’s clones. Dennis manipulates them. Mind control doesn’t work on clones. Trust me.”
Bree takes off in a sprint and I follow behind her. Before we can get to the other entrance, machine gun fire rings out toward us. We both fall on our stomachs.
“More clones are moving up the stairs from decks below,” Honesti says in my head. “They’re closing in on you. Hold your position.”
“No shit,” I grumble as I stay put on my stomach.
“What?” Bree asks.
“One of my voices is telling me we should stay put.”
More bullets and explosions go off around us. Bree crawls to her knees and throws energy blasts from two open palms. All I can think about is Zeke holding my mom somewhere below on this ridiculous ship. “Screw this!”
I take up a squatting position and focus on forming the biggest ball of energy I can make. Once the ball has formed in my hands, I heave it at the door. It accelerates toward the target as if it has a rocket pushing it. When the energy ball impacts, a bright white flash and explosion tears apart the door.
Silence.
“Nice going,” says Bree. “Let's move.”
We hustle to the entrance and walk over rubble to get inside.
“Boss man,” Bouncer says. “Time to show us what you’re really made of.”
“Path is clear,” Honesti says.
I take off running down a dimly lit metal stairway. This time Bree follows me.
The stairs go down ten feet, level off at a platform, then turn back around, and go down another ten feet to another platform. I move as fast as I can while looking for a door. Bree sends off well-placed energy bursts behind us.
I see the clones and freeze. They all look identical: tall and slender teenage girls with black hair and petite faces.
Bree notices my hesitation and shoves me. “Keep moving. They're made to resemble Carmina. Don't worry, they're not actually alive like you and me. Think of them as high-tech robots controlled by Dennis.”
I nod and immediately send blasts at them to clear a path.
The ship is huge, most of it apparently under the waterline. I reach a door and open it. Inside is a massive hangar with jets, helicopters, and larger planes on both sides of a runway that runs the length of the cargo ship. I can make out an opening at the far end of the ship. It’s a long rectangle opening in the hull, probably for planes to fly in and out like an aircraft carrier, only below deck.
Before I step inside, Honesti shouts, “Mack’s location has been identified! Not in there. Four more levels down to the bottom in the cargo hold.”
I slam the door.
“What’s wrong?” Bree asks.
“Mack is four levels down from here.”
More gunfire. Bright flashes. Two clones in black appear on the stairs above us. I hesitate again. They look harmless, but they're not.
Bree hits them with a burst of energy that they absorb somehow. Before they fire at us, I quickly send two energy blasts that explode violently, sending the clones tumbling down the stairs.
“Ask your reckoners where the control center is located!” Bree shouts. “I’ll go after Dennis.”
“Through the hangar to the right is another door,” Bouncer says.
“Inside are more stairs. Go down two levels,” added Honesti. “The control center is located inside the production facility.”
I relay the information to Bree.
“I’ll take out the control center,” she says. “You go get Mack and find your mom. I’ll meet you in the production facility after I kick Dennis’s dumb ass.”
More clones appear. Bree and I both send energy bursts at them to hold them off.
I give Bree a thumbs-up. “Good luck.”
“See you soon.” Bree leans in and kisses me smack on the lips then bolts through the door and into the hangar.
It takes a second before I continue down four levels. Then I send energy blasts behind me and in front of me until I find an open door.
Through the door, a huge room is full of stacked cargo containers, running the entire length of the ship. “Hell. Now what?”
“To your right. On the far side,” Honesti says. “Run.”
Two guns shoot at me from overhead. I quickly wrap myself in an energy shield and heave energy back at them. The blasts send clones flailing off the containers to the metal floor.
“Now where?” I ask.
“One hundred feet. Take a left,” Honesti says. “Mack should be in a blue cargo container.”
I sprint to the right, take a left, and find the blue shipping container. It’s completely square, about ten-feet-by-ten-feet, and made of steel. I notice a large door on the front and try to open it. It won’t budge.
I pound on the container and yell. “Mom? Mack?”
Nothing.
I pound harder.
I hear a faint sound. “In here. Reiz.”
Damn it! It’s not Mom’s voice.
“Reiz?”
Mack.
“Stand back!” I scream at the container and reverse five steps. I quickly form an energy ball and launch it with everything I have at the door. A white burst explodes on impact.
The door crashes backwards in a cloud of dust.
Mack is tied in a standing position. His arms are outstretched and held by restraints that are attached to the back wall of the empty container. He appears more bruised and beat up than he was before.
But he’s conscious.
I remove the folding knife from my backpack, cut him down, and help him stand. “Have you seen my mom?”
“No, sorry, kid.” Mack groans, hardly able to hold himself upright.
“Took you long enough,” says a vaguely familiar voice.
I look behind me and see a familiar skinny guy with short black hair wearing a long sleeved t-shirt and black-framed glasses. Zeke Sarov. He’s holding onto Mom and pointing a gun at her head.
Zeke waves the gun at me. “Both hands on your head. I guess you finally figured out you’re an enforcer. I hear you’re getting pretty good at it too. Turn around and back up towards me.” Zeke raises his voice. “Sit where you are, Mack! Doesn’t look like you’ll be running anytime soon.”
My pulse races and it’s difficult to breathe. Mom shakes her long hair as if to warn me to stay calm. Oh God. Mom.
At first there’s no way I can stay calm; I want to blast his ass, but I realize Mom would get hurt in the process. I decide the only way to save her is to force myself to chill, breathe, and wait for an opportunity.
“Kick his butt, Reiz,” Bouncer says.
I try the mind control stuff that Bree taught me. Relax. Calm. Put the gun down and give up.
“Nice try,” Zeke says. “Your mind control bullshit won’t work on me. Now turn around slowly.”
I turn around. I’m about ten feet away from Zeke and Mom. “Oh God, Mom. I’m so sorry! Are you—?”
“Fine, dear,” she interrupts, calmly, obviously trying not to antagonize Zeke. “Just do what the young man says. He promises to let me go if you do.”
Zeke pushes up his sleeve, exposing a gold bracelet with illuminating jewels. “I heard they haven’t fused your bracelet to your arm yet. Makes my job a hell of a lot easier. Take it off and toss it here.”
Good. He thinks I have a bracelet on.
“What is he talking about, dear?” Mom asks. “Bracelet?”
I hold up a hand. “I’ll show you after we get out of here.”
“Here we go,” Bouncer says. “Don’t let him see that your arm doesn’t have a bracelet.”
No kidding.
“Let him have it, Reiz,” Honesti says.
Slowly.
“Hands on your head!” Zeke screams. He points his gun at me.
Slowly.
Then I make my move and lunge toward him.
He pulls the trigger.
Time slows down. Damn. No time to form a shield around me.
What was it that Bree told me on Malta when she was training me? Redirect? Yeah, redirect the energy. I focus on the bullets speeding toward me and imagine their trajectory changing upward to the ceiling. I close my eyes and focus hard.
Time speeds up again.
The bullets change course and explode into the ceiling.
“How—?” Before Zeke can react, I form an energy ball in both hands and aim for Zeke’s face.
Sit on the ground, Mom.
I fling both chucks of energy just as Mom sits on the ground. “Bastard!”
Instead of exploding, a white point of energy appears in the middle of Zeke’s forehead. It turns into hole and makes the same disgusting sucking sound. Zeke screams, grabbing his forehead as his face melts into the hole. The white spot triples in size. Zeke grabs desperately at his face, falling onto the floor and howling. The vacuum sound only grows more intense.
“Going...” Bouncer says.
My intensity continues. No one messes with my mom! I focus on the single point.
“Going...” Bouncer repeats.
The sound grows, until Zeke is sucked inside out into the hole, just like Curtis was. An instant later, Zeke is gone and only the white spot floats in the air like a familiar cigar smoke ring.
Suddenly, an incredible burst of air rushes to the spot. A thunderclap knocks all of us to the ground.
“Gone,” Bouncer says.
“You did it,” Honesti says. “You better hurry.”
I struggle to get to my feet and help Mom. We embrace.
Mom cries. “I love you, Reizo.”
“I love you too, Mom. I’m so sorry.”
“Reizo!” Bouncer shouts.
“Have Mack get to the hangar,” Honesti says. “The runway is open. He can fly the King Air C90 out of there.”
“Oh, son, I was so scared,” Mom stammers.
“I have a lot to tell you, but you’re not safe yet,” I say. “I need to get you and Mack out of here. Do you understand?”
Mom wipes her face and nods.
I point to Mack who limps over to us. “Mom, this is Mack. Our cousin. Mack, this is my mom.”
“Nice to meet you.” Mack turns to me. “Nice going, Reizo. They told me you had something special going on. Don’t even need a bracelet, do you—?”
“What’s all this about a bracelet?” Mom asks. “Have I seen it?”
“Please” I say. “You both need to listen. A few levels up is an airplane hangar. A runway runs through the center of it and the exit is open. Mack, do you think you have the strength to get my mom there and fly an aircraft out of this ship? There’s an aircraft carrier an hour away with a Captain Tex on it.”
“T. Rex? Well, I’ll be damned. He’s bailed me out of more than one situation. What kind of aircraft?”
“C90,” Honesti says.
“C90,” I say. “Can you make it?”
“You bet your ass. I can fly a King Air with my eyes closed.” He touches his swollen and nearly closed right eye. “Good thing too. I’ll send out a distress call and get T. Rex’s coordinates once we’re in the sky. But you’ll have to keep these turds off my ass or we’re as good as dead. Can you do that?”
I embrace Mom. “I’ll find a way.”
“No, Reizo,” she replies. “You need to come with us, son. You can’t stay here.”
“It’s a long story, Mom,” I say. “Trust me. This is the only way we’ll all survive, okay?”
She objects for a second, but then agrees.
“There are another set of stairs at the far end of the aisle to your left,” Honesti says. “You can take those stairs to the production level.”
“Get going,” I tell Mom, and then turn to Mack. “I’ll meet you onboard the aircraft carrier.”
Tears stream down Mom's face. “Be careful, son.”
“Is the path still clear for them?” I ask Honesti.
“What, dear?” Mom asks.
“Yes. All clear,” Honesti replies.
I hug Mom. “I’ll be careful. Now please go.”
“I love you,” she says.
I feel tears welling up. Not now. “I love you too.” I wipe my eyes and push Mack. “You need to hurry.”
Mack limps off toward the door I’d come through. He’s holding onto Mom with one arm.
“Bad news, boss man,” Bouncer says.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“All remaining clones have been commanded to protect the production level,” Honesti says.
“You better hurry,” Bouncer says. “Bree is in deep shit.”
chapter thirty-four
I stop in front of two large doors with “Production Level” painted above them on the wall. “Where are all the clones?” I ask.
“Hold your position,” Honesti says. “We’ll find out.”
I need to make sure Mack and Mom get safely away from this ship. I’m not about to wait for permission. I burst through the doors into a massive area with thousands of person-sized glass tubes connected to refrigerator-sized equipment above them, each one connected by large cables that disappear into the ceiling fifty-feet overhead.
In the distance, I make out large video monitors like those that you might see at a football game hanging down from the ceiling.
“This is the place,” Honesti says.
For a moment, I feel relief, but that changes when Bree screams. My veins instantly run cold as I bolt towards the sound.
“Show time, boss man,” Bouncer
says.
“Straight ahead,” Honesti says. “Near the video monitors.”
I sprint down an aisle between two rows of tubes. Still, there are no clones, anywhere. My gut says, “Slow down.” As usual, I don’t listen.
I see an opening, finally. Thirty identical clones look like the other clones we've been fighting stand near a platform in the center of the room, which in turn is surrounded by the hanging video monitors. More clones sit in front of computer panels, flipping switches and typing on computers.
Before I can dive to the ground to keep out of sight, my entire body clenches like a prizefighter’s fist. The wind is knocked out of me as if I’d been punched in the gut. I fall face first to the ground.
“Get up and move, Reiz!” Bouncer says.
I try to speak, but I can’t. I try to move, but can’t. Every muscle in my body is tight.
“Clone energy hit him. They’re still firing at him!” shouts Honesti. “Do something.”
“Like what?” Bouncer asks. “Wish him luck?”
Two clones stand over me. Both are pushed aside as JT walks past them and looks down at me, grinning. “Shoot his punk ass,” he tells the clones. “Now!”
Wait JT died! How can he be alive? How can he be here?
Before the clones can move, I imagine being inside an energy shield. I try to close my eyes, but I still can’t move. My body seizes again. I can’t even scream.
My panic is replaced by a swell of molten anger, rising fast as if my internal volcano is about to erupt. I imagine a spark igniting between my thumb and forefinger and will it to come to life. It does. Growing. Surrounding me. Strengthening. It absorbs the beams of energy coming from the clones and grows stronger.
JT’s eyes narrow. “I said kill him!”
The invisible shield around me rapidly expands, forcing JT and the two clones back with flashes of light and high voltage sparks, allowing me to catch my breath. The bubble of energy glistens and hisses as it continues to strengthen.
“Well, I’ll be,” Bouncer says. “He’s better than either of us thought.”
“Wow,” Honesti says.
I manage to look at the video monitors. One is zoomed-in on an aircraft flying outside of the cargo ship. The C90.
