“Max wants me alive, maybe as much as he wants the nuke. If I show up, I might be able to get a few of them to come after me. It’ll give you a chance.”
Ben rubbed his chin. “She has a point, mate.”
John snapped at him. “Don’t you start! We’ll find another way.”
I know you care and its sweet, but you’re not in charge of me.
I pressed my hand under the crease of my back and my armor folded up.
“Lumenara, don’t.”
John’s face was wide eyed and ragged with fear.
I put a hand on his cheek, and he squeezed it. “I can do this.”
“They can run faster than you.”
I smiled. “Maybe, but they need me alive, plus I have another advantage.” I thrust my staff. “And in these trees I can use my agility to outmaneuver them.”
He lowered his head and took a deep breath. “I can’t stop you can I?”
“No.”
“Alright, we’ll give you two minutes, then follow in behind you.”
I lifted his chin and looked deep into his green eyes. “I’ll be fine.”
“You better be.”
~~~
John used a stick to sketch out a rough map of the terrain in the dirt, along with a few areas where I could use my agility to disorient them. He handed me a head lamp, and I stretched out. I took several deep breaths and mentally prepared myself for what I had to do.
I remembered the miles of running inside the slave compound with my father right behind me riding a bike, our hikes up the mountain, the hours of training with my staff.
This is for you, father.
I took my staff and bounded up the hill. At the top, I used the slope to build up my speed. The bunker was a little over five miles away, just a short jog. When the hill flattened out, I slowed to a moderate pace. I needed to save my energy to get back to the mine.
After passing a line of trees, I caught sight of the bunker which looked like a roof of a buried house that was overgrown with vines, bushes, and weeds. A minute later, the cut out wedge of the concrete entrance came into view. Already eight men in Targ armor gathered, one of whom pointed at me. I smiled and skidded to stop, deliberately waiting a few seconds before taking off in the opposite direction.
My plan was simple. Get to the line of trees and use the low lying branches to abruptly change direction and attack them. If I was cornered, I could always head up into the trees and then use the vines or just jump to the tree next to it.
I inhaled deeply as I ran, trying to detect the telltale smell of Targ armor. Soon the air became heavy with a thick earthy cinnamon scent. There had to be several on my tail.
After I cleared the first tree, I grabbed a branch and whipped my body perpendicular to the river. Footsteps pounded behind and a pungent smell enveloped me from the front. They had split up.
The air in front was heaviest with their scent, so I snatched a thick branch and flung my body up and then back while twisting. I landed and ran in the opposite direction. Two men rounded a tree and skidded to a stop in front of me. They grabbed for their tasers. I took my staff and whipped their legs out from under them hearing a soft thud as I passed. I turned into the forest and stayed within sight of the river to keep from getting lost.
Branches whipped at my skin as I passed scratching at my arms. Soon more footsteps thundered. I heard the pings of their tasers, but none stuck. They were close and their scent crawled all over me.
A long thin vine caught my eye, which was perfect for my next move. I slowed my pace just tiny bit. Two sets of feet pounded directly behind. I grabbed at the vine and used my momentum to swing around the tree with both legs raised. My feet smashed into two men sending them spinning to both sides.
I smiled, hearing their bodies crash into the brush and bolted forward. The hill with the mine was to my right. I inhaled, not a trace of their scent.
That should be enough time for this distraction.
I turned to head back to the mine when an icy pain stabbed inside my head. I skidded to a stop and grabbed at my forehead. My skull star was glowing.
Targs! We’re all in danger.
The pain lanced again inside me, an ice pick trying to dig its way out. I fell to my knees and closed my eyes. It had been some time since I had to control a pain like this.
Try to picture a sunrise, my father’s voice echoed. Let it saturate your senses until the pain is a distant memory.
I cleared my mind and opened my eyes. Eight men surrounded me, all with their tasers drawn.
“We have to leave!” I cried. “Targs are coming.”
“No, they’re not,” a voice rasped. The helmet of one of the men folded back and Max’s eyes bored into me. He was holding the rotted remains of a gloved Targ hand. He released a button and the pain subsided. I fell forward on my staff.
“And to think I was going to remove your skull star as act of mercy. Now I’m glad I didn’t, slave.”
He stepped forward and pressed the button. I gasped as the pain surged through me before he released it again. He motioned his head to one of his men and the man stepped forward dangling a pair of handcuffs. The rest of them lowered their tasers.
“I’m no slave,” I said and yanked my skull star out.
“No!” Max cried.
The look on his face was one of shock and disbelief. I didn’t wait for him to recover. I leapt at him, smashing my staff with one motion under his knee, tailbone, and armpit. Blue fluid exploded out and his armor locked up. I drew my blade, holding the edge to his throat.
“Tell your men to drop their weapons, deactivate their armor, and throw them on the ground.”
“You’re insane. You’re going to die.”
“Am I?” My heart pounded and a bead of sweat trickled down my temple. I pulled my blade across his throat making a tiny cut.
“OK!” His breathing grew ragged. “Do as she says.”
His men looked at each other, but kept their tasers trained on us. I gave him another cut.
His eyes bulged. “Now!”
One by one, they complied and tossed their armor into a pile. I drew Max’s sidearm from his holster, raised it to shoulder height, took aim, and pulled the trigger, sending a bolt of plasma into the armor backpacks. I fired again and again and again until ten holes smoldered from them. Then I turned and shot the decayed Targ glove knocking it into the brush.
My teeth bared, hatred coursing through my veins. I pointed the gun to Max’s head. “Do you feel that?” I whispered.
He trembled and I pressed the gun to his temple. “The fear, helplessness, and total lack of control. That’s how each slave feels, every moment, of every day of their lives.”
Max, still trapped in his armor, turned his head to face me. He had a twisted smile, like he was still in charge. “You know you’re going to die if I don’t get you to a doctor?”
I shook my head. “You still don’t get it do you?” I reinserted my skull star, and his eyes widened.
“I’m NOT a slave.”
~~~
I sped away into the trees and headed for the mine. After putting on my armor, I raced back to the bunker. John and Ben had been busy.
The two men guarding the entrance had their armor removed and blood oozed out of some makeshift bandages around their legs. I stepped closer. A fabric gag protruded from their mouths and a ziptie bound their hands. They looked at me with protruding eyes, grunting, and flicking their heads inside the bunker.
John and Ben must still be in there.
I drew Max’s gun and strolled through the entrance.
No harm in being prepared.
Once inside, I pressed my back to a concrete wall. My heart beat faster and I moved forward letting my feet settle soundlessly on the bare floor. I followed this path until I came to a large circular metal opening. The round doorway had to be six inches thick.
Inside was a polished metallic room with two armored men. They were missing their helmets and lying down
, motionless, in a pool of crimson blood.
No!
My heart jumped into my throat, and I crept closer, searching their faces. When I got to the wall, I sighed. Neither were John or Ben, but another man was in armor with his back to me, working on a metal bench. His helmet was off and he had waves of thick curly black hair.
John.
I holstered my gun, deactivated my helmet, and stepped inside. My foot clanked on the metal floor and he whipped around with his gun drawn. A mile long stare of shock surged out of his bloodshot eyes.
A trickle of sweat inched down my face. I raised my hands.
His body shook, but his finger remained pressed on the trigger.
“John, it’s me.”
CHAPTER 10
John’s face looked ragged like he’d been tortured. He gasped, and his gun wavered.
“I—I almost shot you.”
He stared at the gun with disgust, like it was a poisonous snake, and threw it away. His shoulder was oozing blood.
I rushed over to him, and he grabbed me. His breathing came in sporadic gasps.
“I nearly shot you,” he said. “I—I’m so sorry.”
He looked like John, but the brave warrior I knew was gone. His face was scrunched up, full of grief and devoid of any confidence.
What happened to you?
I rubbed his back. “It’s okay.”
He pulled away. “No!” His eyes burned. “No, it’s not okay. I almost killed you.” He trembled. “I should have believed you earlier, then none of this would have happened.”
He stared at one of the bodies. “You should’ve listened to me.” The dead man was young, no more than a boy. His face baby smooth with freshly shorn hair.
He’s in shock.
“You’re injured.” I reached around and deactivated the armor. Blood bubbled from the shoulder wound, but less than I expected. I ripped part of his shirt and tied it over his shoulder.
“It’s not bad,” he said. “Armor took most of it.” He glanced again at the young man. There were two crimson holes in his chest-plate.
“Did you know him?” I asked.
“I trained him. His name was Peter. He used to hang around the barracks and follow me like a lost puppy.” He shook his head. “Always eager to hear about my missions. Itching to get into the fight and kill some Targs.”
He pressed his lips together, and his eyes watered. “I couldn’t talk him down. I—I tried. I tried so hard, but he wouldn’t listen.” His body froze, and he took a deep breath. “So I shot him.” His eyes glazed over.
“John.” I pressed my hands to his cheeks. I had to get his head back in the game.
“My trainer used to tell me that every time you kill a man a part of you dies.” He shrugged. “I never felt that when I killed a Targ. They were just animals. Not like this.” He shook his head. “Not like this.”
“John!” I slapped him. His eyes snapped open. “The nuke.”
He blinked a few times. “Right. This is it right here.”
He placed his hands on a round open metal case no larger than a backpack. There were different colored wires running from a large cone to a touchscreen and some kind of keypad with a clock readout.
“Have you defused it?”
He laughed. “I’m a soldier not a bomb tech. I managed to remove it from the missile. Near as I can tell it’s connected to a switch which is hooked into some kind of fingerprint reader.”
“How do we get rid of it?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “We can’t detonate it. Every Targ within a thousand miles will know we’re here. We need to take it with us. Hide it somewhere.”
“The mine?”
“No, that’s the first place they’ll look, but I have an idea.”
He activated his armor and closed the case. Just before stepping out, he took a long stare back.
I put my hand on his shoulder. “You did the right thing.” I winced. That probably didn’t come out well, but I didn’t know what else to tell him.
John kept his gaze locked on the boy. “Did I? I hope this Gaia thing is worth it.”
We stepped outside, and I followed John south. “Where’s Ben?”
“I sent him ahead to the north ridge to cover us.”
John came to a large circular cover in the middle of what looked like a road and carefully opened it. He jumped down and waved for me to follow.
“These are the old sewage systems.”
He held his hand to a wall and jogged forward, never hesitating or looking around. After taking several turns down different corridors, I tugged him to a stop.
“Do you know where you’re going?”
“Nope.”
I put my hands on my hips. “You’re joking.”
“It’s called the right hand rule. As long as I keep my right hand on a wall, we can find our way out.”
His helmet motioned to a large piece of machinery with several big tubes that exited from a wall. Water leaked out one of the tubes and out several cracks.
“That looks like some kind of pump.” He ran over and ripped off a panel before smashing in a space big enough to put the nuke inside. “The metal in here and the extra concrete should shield it from any scans.” He put the nuke in and disguised it with some sludge and broken parts.
Then he placed his left hand on the wall, took my hand, and in no time we were outside.
~~~
John led me southeast toward a spot I remembered on Cradlo’s map.
“Ben,” John said. “What’s it look like out there?”
“Seen two patrols so far, but you’re clear of them. I take it our nuke is safe?”
“Safe as it can be. I’m going to take her through Umbwe Pass. I’d like you up on the northeast side to keep us covered.”
“I got your back, mate.”
We snaked through the valley for hours, zig zagging as we ran and trying to keep inside the densest part of the forest. The sun was just starting to rise when a shot rang out. John froze then grabbed me and dived to the ground.
“More human patrols?”
He shook his helmet. “Not this close to the volcano.”
Targs.
Another shot echoed.
“You’re clear for the moment,” Ben said. His heavy breathing puffed in the helmet speaker. “I’ll lead the rest of them off. Better hightail it though.”
“Come on,” John said, and he practically dragged me to my feet. We bolted several miles up to a plateau. John dropped to his stomach and crawled to clearing. There at top was a ribbon of striped rock that narrowed to a point. I deactivated my helmet and saw colors of black, white, and orange.
The tiger stone points the way.
We crawled forward to the tiger stone. I oriented myself to it, and stood up. There before me, shaped in the grain of the cliff rock of the distant volcano, was an Egyptian character. One hand folded, the other pointing at a spot on the base of the volcano.
“Mother Gaia,” I said.
John deactivated his helmet. “What?”
“Can’t you see it?” I pointed. “The character right there on the volcano. It’s the Egyptian hieroglyph for mother.”
John pulled out his great grandfather’s notebook and strained his eyes. “I’ll be damned. I must have looked at that spot a dozen times from other locations.” He stared at the tiger stone and then back at the volcano. “It has to be embedded in the rock somehow, so it’s only visible from this spot.”
He activated his helmet, and his head moved in a wide arc. “Shit.” He waved me to him and pointed lower. “Looks like we have company.”
I activated mine and moved forward. There at the base of the volcano just above the valley, Targs were packed in thick as flies, with scanning towers, gun emplacements, even small patrol craft.
“I thought this area was clear?”
“Two days ago, it was.”
I took a deep breath. There had to be thousands of them. It was hopeless, but it didn’t matter, I
had to find a way. I crouched down and crawled forward.
“Lumenara—”
Tears filled my eyes.
I‘m too late. I’m going to die, I’m sorry, father.
“You’ve come far enough,” I said. “You don’t have to come with me any further.”
The truth was, I didn’t want him to come. I cared for him, maybe too much. I thought of Cradlo, my mother, and my father. I couldn’t stand the guilt of having another person I cared for die because of me.
John grabbed my hand. “That’s suicide.”
“I know, but it was what I was born to do. It’s what I have to do.”
“There’s another way.”
I cocked my head. What could he mean?
“I can go back, try to convince Max to help us—”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Listen to me—”
“He’ll kill you or worse.”
“Maybe, but now I have evidence that the Sanctum exists. He might listen.”
I deactivated my helmet. “John, please.” Tears fell. Now I wanted him to come with me, not throw his life away trusting that bastard. At least we’d be together a little longer.
He deactivated his. There was a change in his face. He was confident again, stronger, brighter. He brushed my tears away with his thumb. “If I go with you now, it won’t make any difference.” He took my hands and squeezed. “But if I can convince Max and the others to come, we can draw them away and into the valley. It’ll thin them out and maybe give you a chance.”
“And if you don’t?” More tears fell. After all we’d been through, a part of me wanted to run away with him. Forget the whole thing and start a new life somewhere else.
“Then you’re no worse off.” He caressed my cheek with his fingertips. “I believe in you, Lumenara. Give me twenty-four hours. If I’m not back by then, you go and give them hell.”
I reached out, and touched his cheek. I couldn’t let him go. Not like this. I needed him.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and my lips tingled. He was gentle and sweet, and it was over too soon.
He pulled away and smiled. “I’ve wanted to do that ever since I met you.”
Awaken: A Dystopian Science Fiction Adventure Page 6
