by Aaron Hodges
“Chris, your wound!” Liz gasped as she saw a trickle of blood running down his arm. Heart in her throat, she stepped towards him.
“I’m fine,” Chris grunted through clenched teeth. “It’s okay, I can do it. It’ll be slow, but I don’t want to hurt her anyway.”
“Don’t be stupid, Chris,” Richard argued. “Let me take her.”
Chris shook his head. “No, she’s our friend, I’ll take her. And you’re uninjured. You should go ahead with Jasmine, make sure the path is clear for us. We’ll follow.”
Richard hesitated, glancing at Jasmine. “She’s our friend too, Chris. I won’t leave her, not again.” He drew himself up. “We’re in this together, all of us.”
Chris smiled. “I know. But we don’t even know the way out. You need to find it for us.” He hesitated, glancing at Liz. “Don’t worry if you get too far ahead, we’ll find you.”
After a long pause, Richard nodded. “Okay,” he whispered.
Looking around the room, he met each of their gazes, and then turned away. Jasmine joined him, casting one last glance over her shoulder before heading for the door.
“Wait!” Chris called, and the two paused in the doorway. “If anything goes wrong, meet us at Daniella’s apartment. It’s the last place they’d expect us to go.”
With a final nod, the others moved off, and Liz turned to look at Chris. The silence stretched out between them as she struggled to find the words. “I’m sorry,” she whispered finally. “Sorry I hurt you.”
He shook his head. “It’s not your fault.”
Yet she could see pain in the tightness of his face, the fear that lurked behind his eyes. A terror rose in her chest, that things might never be the same between them again. But there was no time to linger on the thought.
She nodded. “Let’s go.”
24
“I want to see her, Halt,” Sam growled as he settled into the back of the limousine.
Halt sat in the opposite seat, his grey eyes hardening. Beside Sam, Paul and Francesca shifted nervously, their mouths clenched shut. There was a sickly sweetness in the air, and swallowing, Sam felt the cold metal of his collar press against his throat. But he would not back down, not this time.
“Is that so?” Halt whispered.
“I did what you asked,” Sam replied. “I taught them to use their wings. I’ve shown myself to the public, gotten you your funding.” His shoulders slumped and nausea swirled in his stomach. “Please, Halt. I just want to see her, to know she’s okay.”
Sam was begging now, but he no longer cared. He had to know it had been worth it, that he had not betrayed everything he believed for nothing.
Halt stared out at the passing crowds. His face was impassive, his eyes unreadable. Only his voice betrayed his excitement. “The President is impressed.” A smile warmed his lips. “I will have all the funding I could ever need. You have done well, Samuel. Let it not be said that I do not reward good behavior. I will grant you an hour with the girl.”
“Thank you, Halt,” Sam croaked, bowing his head. He closed his eyes, picturing Ashley, already imagining her in his arms again. She was alive. He would see her soon. It had all been worth it.
Or had it?
His joy curdled at the thought of the countless lives he’d doomed to the horrors of the facility, of the sons and daughters who would now vanish into the Californian mountains, never to return. How many more would die now, because of him?
And what would happen once Halt succeeded? Once he perfected his virus, and turned his enhanced soldiers loose on the world?
The drive back through San Francisco seemed to take an age. The four of them sat in silence for the rest of the journey, Halt in his triumph, Sam and the others lost in their own personal nightmares. When the limo finally pulled to a stop, Sam could hardly wait to escape the stifling compartment. But he sat patiently with the others, waiting for Halt’s command. Like mutts on a leash, they knew the consequences of disobedience.
Once outside, Halt called for them to follow, and they filed out of the limousine one by one. To Sam’s surprise, they were not in the grim underground parking lot where they’d been picked up earlier, but on the sidewalk outside a massive marble courthouse. They stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the building, where a revolving door waited between thick stone pillars.
Sam glanced at Halt. “I thought we were going back to your facility.”
Halt smiled. “We are.”
Without waiting for a response, he started up the staircase, gesturing for them to follow. Sam glanced at the others, but they kept their lips shut tight. There had been no love lost between them since the incident in the training hall.
Clenching his fists, Sam started after Halt. He still didn’t know what had happened that day, what had made him so violent. One second he’d been enjoying the test of his strength and abilities, the next he’d found himself pounding the two teenagers into the ground. He shuddered at the memory, and the nightmares it conjured.
Halt paused at the top of the stairs and waited for them to catch up, before continuing through the revolving door. Within, a tall-ceilinged entrance hall greeted them. Marble pillars lined the walls and the domed ceiling had been painted with a mural showing the story of the American War. Along the length of the hall, brave WAS soldiers were fighting off the villainous forces of the United States. Above the doorway, a mushroom cloud sprouted from the ruins of the once-famous White House.
The hall was mostly open space, but around its edges, wooden benches had been placed between the pillars. There, men and women in expensive suits lounged in silence, their rigid postures and gold-embossed wristwatches conveying their wealth. At the far end, several reception desks stood in front of a row of elevator doors.
Straightening his shoulders, Halt strode down the center of the hall, waving the teenagers after him. Sam scowled as whispers echoed around the chamber, as the men and women on the benches noticed them. His wings shifted uncomfortably—he had pulled them tight against his back, but they were still obvious to anyone who looked. And just a few hours earlier, his face had been plastered across national television. In seconds, every eye in the hall was transfixed on the three of them.
“Is that? It can’t be! It’s them…look at those feathers!” The voices chased after them, growing louder with their every footstep.
His cheeks warming, Sam tried to close his ears to the watchers and stared straight ahead. He knew what Halt was doing. He wore an arrogant smile as he walked, basking in the attention. This was his moment, his victory, and he was making sure everybody knew it. With his white lab coat, he could hardly have stood out in greater contrast to the suits who surrounded them—but there was no mistaking who held the power here.
The woman behind the reception desk stood as they approached, her eyes flicking nervously between Halt and his slaves. “Welcome…Doctor Halt.” She faltered, then smiled. “Congratulations on your announcement.”
Halt nodded. “Thank you, Janet. We’ll be needing the elevator to the subterranean department.”
“Of course, Doctor.”
The receptionist turned to her computer, and a whirring sound came from one of the elevators. The numbers above the door flashed, but Halt had already turned away and was now languishing against the desk, the smug grin still on his lips.
Sam’s eyes widened as the elevator doors slid open and a familiar girl stepped out. Two more familiar faces followed, then froze as they looked around. For a second, they hesitated, but no one else seemed to have noticed them, and silently they crept away from the elevators.
Sam could only stare as Richard, Jasmine and the young girl slid around the far end of the receptionist’s desk, his heart pounding hard in his chest. He glanced at Halt, wondering how the doctor had not noticed them. Breath held, he clenched his fists against the desk, and silently screamed for them to go faster.
They made it another two steps before Halt looked up.
25
“You!” Halt hissed. “What are you doing out of your cages?”
A hushed silence fell over the hall as all eyes turned to look at the group huddled around the far side of the receptionist’s desk. Richard and Jasmine stood frozen in terror, their wings half-spread, staring at Halt and Sam.
Halt brushed past Sam and strode towards them, a scowl darkening his face. “You thought you’d just walk out the front door, did you?” he growled.
The others straightened as he approached. Richard stepped between them. “You can’t stop us,” he snapped. “And I’d rather die than go back to your cages.”
Behind him, Jasmine was struggling with the young girl from the first facility. A shriek echoed through the hall as her wings flapped at Jasmine’s face, but the older girl’s grip did not falter. Anger shone from the young girl’s multicolored eyes as she bared her teeth at Halt.
“I will happily oblige,” Halt growled. Leaping forward, he flicked out his hand to catch Richard by the throat.
Richard gasped as he was hauled into the air. “What?” he gaped, clawing at the doctor’s fingers. His wings flailed wildly behind him, but nothing he did seemed to have any impact on Halt.
Smiling, Halt tossed Richard aside. He crashed into the heavy metal desk with a thud.
“An unfortunate accident,” he said as he started towards the boy. “I thought I’d finally deciphered the Chead’s compatibility issues.” Richard had regained his feet, but a blow from Halt staggered him. Beyond, Jasmine and the young girl had stilled, and were now watching Halt with wide eyes. “Unfortunately, I was wrong.”
“Bastard,” Richard snapped. He threw himself at Halt, but the doctor spun and his elbow caught Richard full in the face, knocking him on his back.
“I lost myself for a while there,” Halt continued conversationally as he drove his boot into Richard’s stomach. The boy crumpled at the blow and tried to roll away. Halt stepped after him. “When my mind finally returned, I knew I had failed, that I had become Chead, and what that meant.”
Richard crawled to his knees and looked up at Halt. “That you turned into a right bastard?” He spat blood on the marble floor. “Hate to tell you this, but you always—”
He broke off as Halt kicked him again. The blow sent him sliding across the floor to where the others stood. Jasmine released the young girl and crouched quickly beside him, helping him up.
“It means I will grow old before my time!” Halt shrieked. “That I will be dead within the decade.”
He advanced, but before he could reach them, the young girl shrieked and threw herself at him. He spun, brushing off her attack and catching her by the wrist. The anger faded from his eyes as he looked down at her, his smile returning.
“But you, my sweet Mira, you are my answer, my salvation!” His voice was exultant now. He looked down at Jasmine and Richard. “Tell me, children, did you know she was Chead?”
Their eyes widened and Halt laughed. “All these weeks, and you never realized the truth?” He let out a long breath. “Thank God for Fallow—her virus worked, better than she could ever have imagined.”
“Let her go,” Richard snarled, climbing to his feet.
Halt ignored him. “If only she was still alive to see it.” His tone was regretful, as though he’d forgotten he had been the one who’d killed her. “Not only did she help me to perfect humanity, she created a virus capable of superseding the Chead.”
“Only the lucky ones,” Jasmine snapped. “Or have you already forgotten all the kids who died because of your experiments?”
“Yes, yes, yes.” Halt waved a hand, as though washing himself of the crime. “But thanks to Samuel here, I have all the funding I need to perfect it.” A bemused smile played across Halt’s lips as he looked at Sam and his companions. “And save myself from the corruption of the Chead.” His face twisted, as though he were disgusted at what he had become.
“What did you do?” Richard whispered, his eyes finding Sam’s across the hall.
Sam quickly looked away, but Halt answered for him. “He showed the world what you’re capable of,” he said, “and proved that I don’t need the two of you.” He clapped his hands. “Now, if you don’t mind, my patience grows thin. Samuel, Paul, Francesca—take care of them.”
“What?” Sam gasped.
Spinning, Halt raised his wrist. Light reflected from his watch as he spoke. “Do it.”
Despair rose in Sam’s throat as he bowed his head, but there was no choice. Paul and Francesca stepped forward reluctantly, their eyes wary. The collar seemed to constrict around Sam’s throat as he swallowed. There was no need for Halt to explain the threat.
He looked again at Jasmine and Richard. There was no love among the three of them, not now, not since they’d faced the final test in the facility. That day had left blood on all their hands, a shared guilt, a common hatred.
Even so, he had no wish to fight them.
Gritting his teeth, Sam stepped up beside Paul and Francesca to square off against the two intruders. Jasmine and Richard shared a glance, their emerald wings stretching wide.
“Give up,” Sam called across to them. “You’re outnumbered. We don’t want to hurt you.”
Richard didn’t try to hide the contempt in his eyes. “Give up?” he asked. “What have they done to you, Sam? How can you stand there and ask us to go back? You know what they’ll do to us.”
Sam ran a hand through his long hair, struggling to keep the pain from his face. He knew Richard was right, but he could not turn back now. He had come too far.
“So be it,” he breathed.
To either side of him, Paul and Francesca started forward. Growling, Sam leapt. His wings beat down, launching himself at Richard. But snarling, Jasmine bounded between them. Her fist slammed into Sam’s ribs and sent him reeling, the fury of her onslaught catching him unawares. On his other side, Richard charged, but Paul and Francesca threw themselves into the fray, driving Richard back. The three of them went down in a rush of flailing limbs and feathers.
Sam swore as Jasmine’s wingtip flashed out and caught him in the face. Lurching back, he raised his fists and gathered himself, narrowing his eyes as she came at him again. He tensed as she stepped close, but before he could attack, she leapt, and her foot flashed out to catch him in the collarbone.
“Traitor!” Jasmine shrieked and attacked again.
Sam finally managed to duck a blow, and then dove forward. Catching Jasmine around the midriff, he hurled her backwards. She spun, her wings beating hard to break her fall. Smiling, she rose into the air. Adrenaline pounding in his skull, Sam stretched his wings and took flight.
Above, Jasmine rose to the ceiling, her emerald wings shining in the fluorescent lights. Without warning, she dropped like a stone towards him. The move caught Sam by surprise. Her boot crunched into his face and he went crashing back to the floor. The impact drove the breath from his lungs, and gasping, he struggled to sit up.
A scream came from overhead, and by sheer instinct Sam rolled to the side. Jasmine struck the ground where he had lain with a harsh crack. Marble chips sliced the air as the tiles shattered beneath her.
Recovering, Sam climbed to his feet as she straightened. Spinning, his wings extended, catching Jasmine square in the face. Taken unawares, she staggered, and he saw his opening.
Sam lunged forward, slamming a fist into Jasmine’s shoulder. His arm shook with the force of the blow, but he felt no sense of satisfaction when the smaller girl stumbled back. Straightening, Jasmine growled and came at him again, but Sam was ready for her this time.
His boot flashed out, catching her in the stomach. Breath hissed between her teeth as the blow connected, and she slumped to her knees. Reluctantly, Sam clasped his hands together, and as Jasmine tried to regain her feet, he brought them down.
She looked up at the last second, but there was no time to avoid his attack. The force of the blow drove her into the tiles. Her wings thrashed, forcing Sam to leap clear. When he looked back, J
asmine was struggling to stand, but the blow to her head had rattled her. Her eyes rolled back in her skull, and she toppled face-first to the ground.
Panting, Sam stood over her. An awful guilt ate at his stomach as her eyes flickered open. A moan came from her throat as she looked up at him, her brown eyes glazed.
“Please, Sam,” she coughed. “Don’t make me go back. Kill me, but don’t make me go back.
Sam shivered, his heart clenched in a vice. The breath caught in his throat, and images rose from his memory. Looking down at Jasmine, listening to her beg, he saw again the padded room, saw the pain in Jake’s eyes as Sam chose his own life over his friend’s.
And he knew he could not do it again.
Letting out a long breath, he shook his head. “I can’t do this.”
He turned away from Jasmine then, closing his ears to her pleas. Looking across the hall, he saw Richard pinned against the far wall, desperately trying to hold off Paul and Francesca. The young girl had crumbled at Halt’s feet, the fight gone from her. His face dark, he reached down to drag her away.
“Halt!” Sam screamed. “Leave her alone.”
26
Chris stumbled as Ashley’s weight shifted in his arms. Pain flared from his bullet wound and he gritted his teeth, but it wasn’t half as bad as the night before. It was clear now that the virus had changed more than just their muscles, had given them more than just wings. It was the only explanation for Ashley’s miraculous recovery. Before they’d left the infirmary, they had checked the wound beneath her bandages—it was almost healed.
A whimper came from Ashley, and Chris slowed his pace. He took the opportunity to catch his breath and glanced ahead at Liz.
She strode down the long corridor, following the faint scent of Richard and Jasmine, her shoulders rigid. Chris swallowed, fighting the need to go to her, to spin her around and tell her everything would be okay. Remembered agony rippled down his back he turned his eyes to the floor.
