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Annihilation: A YA dystopian adventure (The Mind Breaker Series Book 3)

Page 3

by Marina Epley


  I concentrate harder, refusing to give up. Find me, I project my thoughts, answer me. Can you hear me, Kitty?

  Nothing. It’s just not happening. Either I suck at telepathy or Kitty is dead.

  “Rex, are you asleep?” Chelsey whispers.

  “No.”

  “Are you trying to contact your friends?”

  “Why do you ask, Chelsey? Just go to sleep. Tomorrow is an important day.”

  “Can you really use telekinesis?” she wonders. “They lie about that, don’t they?”

  “I can’t use telekinesis,” I say, getting annoyed. “Now try to get some sleep.”

  Chelsey becomes quiet. She turns a few times in her chair, being too anxious to sleep. I have to admit I’m still wired as well.

  “Rex,” Chelsey whispers again.

  “What?”

  “Are you still awake?”

  I groan and raise my head, looking at the electronic clock on the table.

  “Gosh, Chelsey, it’s 3 AM,” I say. “We need to be well-rested for tomorrow.”

  “If they catch us tomorrow, Guardian might spare your life,” Chelsey says. “You’re a telepath and memory reader. But I’m a weak breaker, about as common as dirt. Guardian says I’m worthless. He’ll kill me if we fail tomorrow.”

  “We won’t fail,” I assure her, although I really don’t know. “And Guardian thinks that everybody is worthless, except himself. We shouldn’t care what he says.”

  “I’d rather be dead anyway, than spend one more day in this prison,” she adds.

  I keep silent for a few minutes, thinking. I feel deeply sorry for Chelsey. She has gone through too much for somebody her age.

  “Becoming dead is the worst thing that can happen to you,” I say. “As long as you’re breathing, you can fight.”

  I hear her sigh sadly.

  “The worst thing is when somebody you love dies,” Chelsey answers. “I haven’t seen my parents since my capture. I don’t know whether or not they’re still alive. But if they’re dead, it’s my fault. Elimination could have killed them because I’m a breaker.”

  Chelsey stops talking, pretending to sleep. I remain awake for a long time. I imagine the aircraft with Kitty, Marian and Rebecca aboard crashing during take-off. No survivors. I get an image of my friend Jessie bleeding in my arms. I remember Holtzmann holding his crippled hand with two missing fingers, blood still spilling onto the floor.

  Chelsey may be right. Losing somebody you love and care about is far worse than your own death. If my Kitty is dead, I’m certainly the one to blame. Her blood would be on my hands, and I would have no reason to continue living.

  I close my eyes and will myself to sleep.

  ***

  “Rex, wake up! I hear them coming!”

  Somebody is shaking me. I wake up in a panic, taking a quick look around. I see Chelsey standing by the bed, wearing only her underwear. Her dress is lying on the floor.

  “What the heck?” I ask.

  “Let me in,” she whispers, hurriedly climbing under the blanket and stretching out beside me. “Hold me. And pretend to be asleep.”

  She places her head on the pillow and closes her eyes. I hear voices in the corridor. I finally get it. I put an arm around Chelsey, pretending to sleep. Chelsey spending a night in the chair might raise unwanted suspicions.

  Hammer along with four guards enter.

  “Time to get ready for the big parade, hero,” he says loudly.

  Chelsey sits up, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

  “Is it morning already?” she mumbles. “I didn’t get enough sleep.”

  Hammer looks at me with unhidden disgust. I grin. I don’t really care what Hammer thinks.

  The guards hold their rifles ready, while Chelsey and I dress.

  “Is all this really necessary?” I ask Hammer, motioning to the barrels pointed my direction. “Are you really so frightened of me?”

  “Shut up,” he growls. “And hurry it up. We’re running late.”

  I finish dressing as slowly as possible. Hammer and I are longtime enemies. He attempted to kill Kitty and I once before, then later helped Guardian capture me.

  Hammer and his guards lead us into a spacious room with several chairs and a large mirror. I see more well-armed recruits around. Guardian stands aside wearing a satisfied grin. We greet each other. Chelsey waves to him, smiling widely. She holds my hand tightly, yet her fingers still tremble. I squeeze her hand back slightly in support.

  The guards present me with a general’s uniform along with a peaked hat and bulletproof vest. They also place an eye patch over my right eye. I take a quick glance at myself in the mirror, feeling like a complete idiot. The bullet tore an optic nerve and subsequently left my right eye permanently blind, but all the damage is internal. The patch isn’t necessary, although Guardian apparently has a different opinion on the matter. I’m wearing this patch and uniform in all the posters containing my image.

  “You look very charismatic,” Guardian comments.

  I don’t answer.

  A chubby middle-aged woman in camo brings a red mini-dress for Chelsey. She has Chelsey change her clothes right in front of everybody. Then the woman braids Chelsey’s hair and covers her face with a thick layer of makeup.

  “You’re very pretty now,” the woman compliments.

  Chelsey doesn’t protest, wearing the same icy smile and now closely resembling a doll. I suddenly remember her lying beneath me, all stiff and putting up no resistance. I become worried. The guards won’t let us slip away without a fight. How can I be sure Chelsey won’t simply freeze up, when faced with danger? Today, we’ll both need to be strong.

  Hammer, along with a few guards, escort us out to a waiting helicopter. Guardian doesn’t follow. He wants to stay in the shadows and won’t participate in a parade.

  Chelsey clutches my hand the entire trip to the capital. I realize that I’ll soon find out the truth concerning Kitty. If nobody shows up to help me escape, then she’s dead. I’m not sure I can face that possibility. I close my eyes and try to relax, fighting a growing anxiety.

  “I hope you won’t try anything stupid during the parade,” Hammer says. “Guardian would be very disappointed. He’d order you to be shot.”

  I can be sure Hammer is asking me to give him a reason. He wants to take my place and lead the Army of Justice. He’s obsessed about leadership.

  The helicopter lands alongside a long black limousine too closely resembling a hearse. We’re ordered to get in. We spend the last part of the trip surrounded by armed guards. They’re obviously not taking any chances. The limo moves incredibly slowly as a crowd of people stand in the way. Two military trucks drive ahead of us to clear the road, and two SUVs follow behind to complete our procession.

  We finally make it to the central square of the city. Hammer leads us inside an old historical building. We walk through a few passageways, climb up a screeching staircase and wind up on the balcony of the third floor. I squint into the blinding sunshine. Yelling and whistling on the street below is deafening. The entire square is filled with shouting people. All breakers. Some wear Retaliation camo and others are dressed in civilian clothing. They all raise their arms, holding posters and shouting out slogans.

  It’s overwhelming.

  A guard shoves a barrel into my back.

  “Wave to them,” he commands.

  Chelsey and I begin waving at the crowd. I anxiously scan the surroundings. Four guards stand directly behind us, holding rifles. The people below shout out my name. I wait for something to happen, although I’m not sure what exactly to expect. I just have a strange feeling that something will happen. Or maybe my imagination is working overtime. Maybe I will never escape Guardian’s hold.

  A few long minutes pass without anything happening. I begin losing hope.

  Chelsey looks over at me, worried.

  Suddenly, a building explodes on the other side of the square.

  Chapter 3

  I f
linch, momentarily startled. I watch as thick black clouds of smoke pour from the building. The people below fall silent for a few seconds, turning their heads in the direction of the explosion.

  What the heck was that? A terrorist attack? Some kind of diversion?

  My confusion lasts only for a moment. I turn just in time to land a hard punch into the guard’s face. He staggers backwards. Two other guards lunge at me, grabbing my arms, and begin dragging me back inside the building. I instinctively project my thoughts, hoping to use hypnosis. It doesn’t work. These guards are far too resistant. Guardian knew whom he should send to escort me.

  A rifle fires and one guard falls dead, a large bloody hole between his eyes. Jessie. That must be Jessie…who else could score such a perfect headshot? Perhaps she’s alive and well after all, and has come to help.

  I punch the remaining guard in the gut. He doubles over, and I bring a knee up straight into his face. As he’s going down, I add a hard kick in the head for good measure, knocking him out cold. Yet another guard approaches, training a rifle on me. Another gunshot and he collapses across the floor.

  I turn to see Chelsey struggling against a big guard. He’s dragging her back inside the building. Chelsey bites and claws at the guy, but he’s far too strong for her. I rush in closer, throwing a heavy punch from way down low, delivering a solid blow into his jaw. His head jerks backward as he releases Chelsey. I grab his face and slam him against the wall. I improve my grip on his head, and begin smashing it repeatedly against the wall until his legs give and he collapses.

  Chelsey screams. Additional guards have entered the balcony. The mystery shooter brings a couple more down, but there are just too many.

  I grab Chelsey’s hand and begin climbing over the balcony’s railing. This may be the only chance we have. I project my thoughts toward the people below us, directing them to catch us. We can’t worry how dangerous it is at the moment or what injures we might sustain. There’s no option left to avoid recapture, but to jump the three floors down.

  We quickly go over the railing and free fall. There’s a momentary sensation of weightlessness and then we crash onto the people below. A quick thud of impact mixed with the crunching sound of bones breaking. Sharp pain shoots throughout my body. I can’t move or even breathe for a few moments, lying across a pile of bodies. I look to my left and see Chelsey outstretched beside me. We stare blankly at each other, both still stunned and disoriented from our fall. She’s first to scramble to her feet.

  “Let’s go!” she yells, pulling me up.

  I shake off my stupor, getting up. The guards on the balcony open fire. I hunker down, believing at first they’re trying to hit us. But they’re firing at the rooftops of the nearby buildings. They must be attempting to take out the sniper. If that shooter actually is Jessie, they will have their hands full.

  I grab Chelsey’s wrist, pushing through the quickly dispersing crowd. I shove and elbow anybody standing in our way. We need to distance ourselves from any pursuit. More guards begin exiting the building onto the street, searching for us. As soon as they get a visual, they fire warning shots above our heads. Chelsey screams, hunkering down lower. I can’t hypnotize these guards, but the people in the crowd are not so immune to my hypnosis. I project my thoughts, directing them to attack the guards. They’re terrorists, I repeat in my mind, and they’re trying to kill you.

  I hear sounds of fighting breaking out behind us. Neither of us bother to look back.

  A second explosion shatters windows nearby. More people begin running in a panic. The crowd pulls us forward. If we don’t go with the flow, we’ll be trampled. Chelsey stumbles several times, but continues moving. Her eyes are frantic and she’s gasping for air. I’m out of breath as well. The unfortunate who fall are being stomped into the concrete. I bump into somebody and almost lose my balance. Chelsey sobs as she runs behind.

  We finally make our way out of the crowd. We sprint across a street only to run smack into three guards.

  “Freeze!” they yell, opening fire above our heads. Chelsey shrieks, pulling her hand away from me and staggering backward. I fling my arms up in surrender, standing motionless and projecting my thoughts toward the guards. I put all my effort into the hypnosis. My head feels ready to explode from the pain.

  The three guards slow their approach, staring at me in confusion. Their eyes are foggy and unfocused. I reach for the rifle of the nearest guard, but another grabs me from behind. The still fully alert guard puts me in a tight bear hug and begins attempting to lift me into the air. I secure his wrist, holding it tightly. I take a quick step forward and roll in a quick somersault, sending the guard flying over me. He lands hard onto his back on the concrete and lies unmoving, his eyes wide open and glazed. I elbow him into the face.

  “Watch out!” Chelsey screams.

  Another guard charges into me from the right. I didn’t see him because of a blind spot on that side. I wind up on my back, with the big guy mounted on top of me. I cover as he begins slamming the butt of his rifle at my head. I can’t knock him off me and can’t even strike back as the attack is too vicious. He’s attempting to smash my skull. The three hypnotized guards are still standing in a daze. I direct my thoughts toward them, hoping to make them shoot down my attacker. They don’t react, I’m too weak.

  As I’m struggling with the guard, Chelsey takes a handgun from a downed soldier, aims it at my attacker and squeezes the trigger. Nothing happens. She probably doesn’t know how to take the safety off. Chelsey stares at the gun, screams in frustration and slams the gun into the guard’s head. He swings his rifle around at Chelsey. I reach for his face with both hands, jabbing my thumbs deeply into his eyes. The guard cries out in pain, jerking backward and firing his rifle. Chelsey drops flat on the concrete, covering her head. I kick the guard off of me, grab up his fallen rifle and fire off a round straight into his face. A circle of blood stains the street as his head bounces off the pavement.

  “Behind you!” Chelsey yells.

  I turn and fire at the approaching guards, grab Chelsey’s hand and we take off running again. She’s still carrying the handgun she took from a downed guard. We move as fast as possible, but can’t shake our pursuers. Chelsey has kicked off her shoes, jogging barefoot ahead of me now.

  A military SUV cuts us off. Tinted windows roll down and a few rifle barrels extend outward in our direction. The gunmen open fire as I tackle Chelsey to the ground, shielding her. I aim my rifle at the SUV, firing a few rounds. I can’t tell if I hit anything because my vision is poor. I project my thoughts toward the driver, but don’t know if that will work.

  Something happens. The SUV abruptly accelerates, driving across the street and passing within a few feet of us. It collides into the nearest building with violent force, smashing into the front and recoiling backward. I get a thought that it’s about to explode, and we’re too close. But it doesn’t explode, just rolls several feet backward and becomes still. Nobody emerges from the vehicle. I scramble to my feet, yanking up Chelsey, and we take off again.

  The guards behind continue their pursuit. I hear a blare of the sirens coming in the distance. I realize that they’ll soon recapture us. We can’t move fast enough as we’re both too beaten up and exhausted to keep running. Chelsey is limping now. My head is swirling and I can’t think straight.

  We turn a corner, running into a new squad of guards blocking the street.

  “Freeze!” they command, training rifles on us. “Drop your weapons!”

  We can’t go back because of the guards still on our tail. And I don’t dare to open fire as our enemies look a little too willing to shoot us down.

  I project my thoughts toward the guards standing in our way. They’re still holding their rifles on us, but their expressions change, becoming meaningless. We jog between them. I hear the footsteps of our pursuers getting closer behind.

  “Fire!” I command.

  The guards execute my request, shooting into the guards still coming. Chelse
y and I run further, leaving the gunfire behind. A large helicopter flies above our heads. I raise my rifle, firing a few rounds. The helicopter ascends.

  Suddenly, a van speeds toward us, then comes to a sudden stop. I prepare to shoot, but as the back door opens I see Kitty. She’s dressed in camo and armed with an assault rifle. She waves her arm, yelling, “Get in!”

  My heart skips a beat. She’s alive. It wasn’t just my imagination.

  I grab Chelsey’s hand, running as fast as possible. Chelsey is gasping, but manages to keep up. Kitty fires at our remaining pursuers. They kneel and return fire. The space around the van quickly fills with loud shouting and flying lead. The last several yards between us and the van seem to last forever, but Chelsey and I somehow manage to avoid being shot. We sprawl inside on the floor in near complete exhaustion.

  “Drive!” Kitty commands.

  The van leaps forward. I sit on the floor with my eyes closed, waiting for my dizziness to fade. Chelsey coughs somewhere nearby. I’m totally drained. My heart pounds heavily in my chest and my head aches. We’re free is the only thought swirling in my mind. We’re free, we have escaped.

  “Rex! Can you hear me? Are you injured?”

  I open my eyes and see a thin girl with short black hair bending over me. She’s holding a sniper rifle. Jessie!

  “I’m all right,” I say, smiling broadly. “I’ve been through worse, I guess.”

  “Welcome back,” she answers, grinning.

  I suppress a strong desire to squeeze her in a big hug. Instead, we quickly shake hands. Jessie picks up her rifle and hurries to assist Kitty. Kitty is busy tossing grenades at our stubborn pursuers through the opened door of the van. We must have a few vehicles on our tail now. I stare at her in shock, hardly recognizing her. I’ve seen Kitty during a gunfight before, but she seems more violent now. I don’t know what to think about that.

 

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