"I don't know. I can hear them in the trees around us. There's birds and some smaller mammals. I can hear ants and flies, too. But, they're all scared. They know something bad is going on. Sometimes, if they're scared, they won't come. Heavy fear can override my abilities."
"Well, see what you can come up with."
Holly nodded and took a couple steps backward, her eyes becoming milky as she concentrated.
"I'm going to sneak down to the Home. You see over there on the dark side? There's an unmanned vehicle. It's an APC. It'll be big enough to carry all of us. I'm going to steal it. Once I start it up, Sarah, I'll need you back to help me get Andy into the back. Once that happens, we'll need to get Posey and Kenny into the back as fast as possible and we'll need to get out of here fast." John was oozing an aura of command. Sarah didn't know why, but she was willing to do whatever he asked of her.
"The squirrels. The squirrels can help, said Holly, her eyes were completely white. "They're scared, but they also like the adrenaline rush."
"Perfect! How can I use squirrels?" John chewed his lower lip for a moment. Then, he smiled. "Can you get them to chew through the fuel lines of those other vehicles down there?"
"I can try."
"What about me?" Indigo asked. "Let me help."
John glanced into the sky. The helicopter was still hovering overhead, flashing its spotlight and cutting the air with loud rotors. "Can you bring that thing down? I need to kill that spotlight."
Indigo bit her lip. "I don't think so. It's huge."
"Remember David and Goliath," said John. "It's not the size of the rock---it's where you hit the giant."
Indigo smiled. John's stick suddenly ripped out of his hand, and glided easily to Indigo's open palm. Her fingers curled around it. "Got it."
"Once that helicopter is down," said John, "go and get Posey and Kenny. Bring them out of the forest the best you can. Holly, you help her once you can, too."
"Okay," Holly said. She crouched down and held her hands on the side of her head. Her face was wrinkled up in concentration.
"Sarah, go!" John said. He, in turn, spun on his heel and hauled down the hill toward the APC in the shadows of the dark side of the Home.
Sarah locked her eyes on Dr. Sebbins and angled her body to the most direct route. This time, she concentrated and was able to make her hips pop before she started to move. When she took her first step, she was flying. In an instant, she was at Dr. Sebbins' side. Before the doctor could question her, Sarah grabbed her and slung her into a fireman's carry. The doctor was fit and didn't weigh much, but the additional weight seemed to make Sarah's knees compress and her legs felt shorter. "Hang on, Seb!" Sarah grunted. Click! And Sarah was a blur. She was still moving at an intense speed, but the additional weight made it hard to compensate. It made her knees hurt and her ankles felt like they were going to explode with each step. Sarah still couldn't take in a breath while she was running. She looped around to the back of the Home before she had to stop to breathe. When she tried to stop, she had to take several extra steps to keep from sending Dr. Sebbins flying.
She set Dr. Sebbins down and bent over, gasping for breath and trying to rub the soreness out of her knees.
"Sarah! Your powers!"
"Just came," gasped Sarah. "Just happened a few minutes ago."
"How are your ankles and knees?"
"Sore and stiff."
"Your tendons are becoming thicker. Speed like yours will require a lot of ligament changes. Your tendons are going to become like high tensile-strength steel. They need to be strong to keep from blowing out at speed. Your bones are going to change too. Imagine them like the shocks on a car."
"Doc! Science lesson later! If you haven't noticed, there are guys with guns."
"Oh, right! I'm just so proud of you!"
"I need to take you to the rendezvous point."
"The what?"
"John has a plan to get us out of here. We're making our break tonight. He figured out the project. He figured out what those goons were going to do with us. We're leaving, Seb."
"I'll come with you."
"No," said Sarah. "We have to do this on our own."
"Sarah, I know where there's a safe house! I know where we can find the things you're going to need to get you through the changes without excess pain. There's a hyper-womb there. If Posey doesn't get into it, she will die."
Sarah felt cornered. "It'll be John's call," she said. "Now, get back on my shoulder. I think I can make it to the meeting place in one more jaunt."
"You couldn't just run there outright?"
"I can't breathe when I run, Doc."
"That wasn't in the files."
Sarah grabbed Sebbins and ran again. She was able to make it to the spot at the tree line just as her body was screaming for air. She came out of speed and collapsed. Dr. Sebbins flew off her shoulder and bounced on the ground once before sliding to a stop. "Sorry, Doc."
Before Sebbins could reply, Sarah was up again and sprinting back to Andy's side. Her knees and ankles hurt less. She could tell that her speed was much, much greater when she didn't have to carry weight. She made it to Andy's side and was able to stop quickly, coasting out of the burst and coming to a stop in front of Andy. "We're getting you out of here!"
"Good. The ground is cold," said Andy.
Sarah looked around and saw more soldiers coming. She clicked into her powers again and shoulder-charged the nearest soldier.
An old physics adage was running through Sarah's head. It was the one about objects in motion, and how they tended to stay in motion. When Sarah made contact, physics took over. The impact sent her spinning off at speed, tearing through the soil like a plow as her feet tried to regain footing. The solider blasted off his feet through the air, a human projectile fired from a very angry cannon. He careened into several other soldiers, toppling them violently, sending them rolling, a mound of flailing arms and legs.
When Sarah finally found her balance again, she was able to turn a hard, sharp corner and blast back down the line of soldiers, slapping weapon barrels with her left fist, trying not to make bone-on-metal contact or hit her broken finger. The wooden stocks and grips shattered like kindling as the metal was smacked out of place. Her left hand was becoming a mound of black-and-blue flesh.
The APC fired up and rumbled from around the side of the house, black diesel smoke pouring from its pipes. John leapt out and grabbed one of Andy's arms. "Sarah! I need you! Now!"
Andy was already struggling to his feet. "Out of my way, Spaghetti-head." He stepped on the bumper of the APC, and it tore off under his weight and was mashed into the ground beneath his feet. "My bad. Bill my insurance company for that, will you?" Andy jumped up, landing heavily in the back of the APC. It creaked and the flyleaf springs groaned as they struggled to compensate his weight. "That does it. After we get out of here, I'm calling Jenny Craig."
"Sarah! Let's go!" said John. He ran back to the front of the APC and threw it into gear without bothering to close the door. Soldiers were rushing the vehicle as he peeled across the lawn sending chunks of sod and mud flying.
Sarah heard gun shots. A few bullets bounced off the metal sides of the APC.
Bounced?
Sarah realized the soldiers weren't firing live metal rounds; they were shooting immobilizers---rubber bullets meant to injure, but not kill. They were riot control devices, non-lethal ammo. She leapt into speed and realized that the bullets were visible to her as she ran. She could see brilliant black spheres seemingly crawling through the air. She was actually moving faster than they were! She could catch them, slap them with her fist, and knock them off trajectory! She connected with the first bullet, slapping it hard with her palm. A jolt of pain shot through her arm; it felt like a large, nasty insect had sunk two fangs' worth of venom into her hand. The old physics teacher's voice came back to her: For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. The jolt wasn't horrible, though, and Sarah knew that she wasn't really b
eing bitten; she had to suck it up and deal with the pain.
In the distance, Sarah heard the sound of engines coughing and growling into action. She could see headlights through the trees near the end of the long driveway. More vehicles were coming, mobilized from the town down the road. Sarah cursed under her breath. John was right; the town down the road was a secret paramilitary installation. It had to be.
The APC slid to a stop at the tree line. Holly had Posey on her shoulder and Indigo had dragged Kenny through the scrub by his wrists like she was dragging a corpse. Dr. Sebbins was tending to Posey as best she could in the dim light. John bailed out of the cab and rushed everyone into the back of the carrier.
"Stay down! Stay low! I think they're going to be shooting."
"I can help," said Sarah. "Give me a chance."
"Do your thing," John said. "And make it fast. Follow when you can!"
"I will!" Sarah turned and sprinted to the oncoming soldiers. Her speed was so great that the soldiers were like frozen statues. She plowed into them sending them flying. Soldiers farther back from the initial line began firing the riot bullets, full auto. The air became vibrant and buzzing with gun fire. The bullets were all around her; Sarah had to angle her body oddly, spinning like a dervish through the hail of bullets. She could see them approaching, ten bullets in a close line, burped from a single barrel. They were coming faster and faster. More and more soldiers fired. An APC was unloading at the top of the circlet drive by the front of the Home. Soldiers were taking defensive positions around the vehicles, falling to the ground and remaining flat and low, taking aim at the blur that was Sarah, and firing short bursts of ammo in flat pattern, aiming in front of where they thought she would be running, trying to slow her down.
The bullets were coming in too fast for Sarah to dodge now. There were bullets high and bullets low. A soldier in the back of the APC was setting up a strange, silvery apparatus that resembled a cannon straight out of a sci-fi movie, a large silver tuning-fork with wires and pipes all over its sides and a generator at its base. Sarah turned away from the bullets and ran down the driveway. She moved faster than she had when she was trying to control her run in the relatively confined space. It felt more like she was flying than running, each toe barely grazing the ground. She blasted down the road and into the empty field. Her lungs were screaming for oxygen. Thigh-high weeds scratched at her jeans and, at her speed, began to strip the material. Suddenly, Sarah felt a burning sensation from her thighs. She stopped, several hundred yards from the Home. The burning increased. Sarah smelled smoke. Her pants were on fire!
Sarah fell to the ground and quickly stripped off her jeans. The inner thighs and crotch had rubbed together so fast that the friction had caused them to burn. She breathed a silent thanks for choosing underwear that day that made her look semi-sexy, but still offered significant butt coverage.
Her leg muscles had changed. She had always had lean, lithe thighs, but now they rippled with hard strands of muscle. Her knees were more pronounced and her calves were tight and powerful, remarkably chiseled. Even her ankles, especially her Achilles tendons, seemed to be more pronounced, more sculpted.
Sarah stood up and stamped out the remaining embers so the field wouldn't catch fire. In the distance, she could see the APC wheeling away from the gunfire, attempting to roll down the tree line toward the road. Its headlights bounced wildly as it banged its way over the rough terrain. Sarah turned and launched herself toward the APC. As soon as she jumped into speed, she could see the thick wall of bullets heading toward the tires of the truck, attempting to take it down. The bullets glistened silver in the halogen spotlight's glow. The soldiers had switched to live, lead ammo in order to take down the truck.
It felt like it took forever, when it really took only fractions of a second, but Sarah flew toward the line of gunmen. She slapped away the bullets with her other hand and felt the skin on her palm burning. She turned back at the end of the line to take down the guns, slapping them with her right hand, feeling the soft tissues swell and bruise from the impact. She slowed down to turn around for a third pass. The soldier manning the futuristic cannon engaged his weapon. The air suddenly became filled with white noise, a wall of pure sound that hit Sarah like fiery talons. She arched backward in pain, losing her footing, and spinning to the ground, landing hard and sending a roostertail of dirt and debris flying as her body paid the price for stopping while inertia still carried it at insane speed.
Sarah lay still, gasping for breath, feeling like every bone in her body was broken, her eardrums exploded, and her brain was jelly. She could see the searchlight of the helicopter overhead illuminating the yard. She could hear the shouts and commands of soldiers. She could hear the engine of the APC in the distance. John was still going. He was getting the others out of there. She had been successful.
There were several metallic clicks as a half-dozen rifles were suddenly locked, loaded, and pointed at her. She craned her head and saw a cadre of soldiers with guns leveled at her. The sonic cannon on the back of the APC targeted her again. A tall, powerfully built man in gray camouflage and a red beret was sneering at her, his hands behind his back. Half of his face was horribly scarred with burns and he wore an eye patch.
"What...what happened?" Sarah gasped. She tried to sit up, but the soldier in the beret put a foot to her shoulder and smashed her back to the ground. He stepped down hard with his toe, pressing into her collarbone painfully. He drew his sidearm, a particularly lethal looking semi-automatic handgun, and pointed it at her forehead.
"Subject Two. Codename: Blink. Do not attempt to get up. I will be forced to blow out your kneecaps. You were just hit with a prototype Sonic Cannon. If you attempt to flee, I will not hesitate to shoot you with it again. You are under arrest." The soldier nodded at one of the men with a rifle. "Cuff her. Hobble her ankles with the polywire, too."
"What? What are you doing?" Sarah tried to sit up again, but the toe of a combat boot dug hard into her clavicle and she could only choke out grunts of pain. "You're going to break...me."
"You'll heal," the soldier growled. Sarah felt thick cord wind around her ankles. Handcuffs were snapped on her wrists. "Throw her in the truck. One of you keep a hand on her at all times."
One of the soldiers, semi-toothless and sneering, gave Sarah a smile that made her skin crawl. He spoke with an accent that hinted toward Eastern Europe. "With pleasure."
"They got Sarah! They got Sarah!" Indigo watched out the back of the truck with horror as she saw Sarah's body hit the ground and spiral out of control. She shoved her head through the small window into the cab of the truck. "John! Sarah's down! What do we do?"
John didn't take his eyes from the road. "Now we need that distraction, Indigo. Take down the helicopter. Take out the lights. Darkness can help us."
Indigo went to the back of the truck and looked out. She could see the white bricks that surrounded the garden of the Home. One of those would work if she could get it airborne. The pen was a small, light object. The rocks would be a much greater challenge. Indigo could feel the ability within her now, a small spark in the center of her brain, but it was still difficult to control. The past two times, when she had been able to use it, she had been upset. When Cormair had called her a failure, she felt the tears crawling into her eyes, she felt the frustration of not being able to utilize her power and the frustration of feeling trapped and confined. Was her power was tied to emotion?
Gunfire burst around the metal sides of the APC, clanking against the thick body armor of the truck and sending up sparks where they connected. Indigo ducked back inside the truck, and covered her head with her arms. If there was ever a time to be under emotional stress, it was now.
She stuck her face back around the edge of the truck and focused on a single brick. She concentrated and struggled to grasp the brick. She could feel its heft, its solidity. Gritting her teeth, Indigo pulled back and saw the brick give way. She broke out in a cold sweat. The brick was heavier than i
t looked. She could feel the mental stress tearing through her brain; lightning strikes of pain exploded in her head. The pen had been so light, merely a tickle in her head. This was more like cat's claws digging into flesh, razor-sharp slashes of agony. Indigo swung the invisible arm and the brick flew into the air. Indigo took aim at the searchlight on the helicopter and flung the brick at it with her mental fist. The cement missile flew fast and true and smashed into the Plexiglas over the big, concave mirror shattering the searchlight. The yard was plunged into a dim light from the halogen lamps by the Home and the driveway. Two more bricks took those out quickly and efficiently and the yard was lit only by the headlights of trucks.
"Yes! Outstanding work, Indigo! Outstanding!" John called from the front of the truck. "Holly! I need you and a bat to guide us up here! I'm going to kill the lights! Indigo, I need you to take out the helicopter!"
Indigo slumped down. Her head was killing her. Waves of pain, the worst headache she had ever experienced, seethed from the center of her brain outward. She put her hands to her head and squeezed, trying to lessen the sensation of her skull splitting in half. "I don't know if I can!"
"Remember!" John cried. "Placement, not size!"
Dr. Sebbins crawled over to Indigo. "Indigo, I know it hurts. Your brain is doing something no one in the history of the world has ever done before. You are an advanced human, the next step in evolution. Your brain is still primitive compared to the power it now controls. You're going to experience pain! But, think small. Small items are easier for you to lift."
Indigo still had John's sharpened stick. She threw it into the air behind the truck and caught it with her mind. It was light, much lighter than the bricks. The cat scratches in her brain receded slightly. "John! Where's the gas tank on a helicopter?"
"Low! In the back!"
The Seven Page 10
