by Jo Schneider
“We’re not leaving you,” Jeff said.
“Speak for yourself,” Dennis said.
Jeff shot him a withering scowl. Dennis didn’t look the least bit abashed.
“We’re running out of time,” Wendy said. She did something she never did. She reached out and touched Jeff’s knee. “I can do this. Let me do this.”
Jeff’s expression hardened. “If you go down there, you won’t come back.”
Wendy swallowed. “If I get the chance to kill him, I will.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Wendy said, shaking her head. “We’re looking at the bigger picture, and those meds need to get back. Matt got out, we need to give him a chance to get through the shield. You guys can follow him. With any luck, the others can free themselves. If not, I’ll try to find them.”
Dennis rolled his eyes. “I can look for them. Jeff can take the meds out. Besides, I’m the only one who knows what the shield part looks like.”
“No,” Jeff said. “You’re injured, and we need you here to drop the charges. I’ll look for the others. You stay here until it’s clear. Then get out.”
Dennis ground his teeth, but didn’t argue.
Jeff turned on Wendy. “How do you plan to get down?”
Wendy pointed to the corner. “There’s a pole over there and a hole in the floor. I can get through. It’s dark down there, and no one will see me. Even if they do, I’m looking for the attention.”
“This is a stupid plan,” Dennis said. He shot to his feet and walked away, muttering under his breath.
Jeff watched him go. “He’s right.”
“Do you have a better idea?” Wendy met his gaze and saw concern there.
“No.”
“Too bad.” Wendy rose and followed Dennis. “Give me a couple of minutes. I’ll have a bunch of Skinnies for you to squash.”
“Wendy,” Jeff said.
Wendy turned to look at him.
The concern in his eyes shot through Wendy. It took Jeff a few seconds to form his thoughts into words. “Come back.”
Wendy blinked once, turned away and walked to the pole. Dennis eyed her from the inside of the transport where he was looking for more explosives. Neither of them spoke.
A half circle of metal lay a few feet away. Wendy could see where it used to cover the opening in the floor, but the bolt holes had been ripped through. Rust covered the pole along with a sort of sludge that looked like a mixture of oil and dirt. The hole, easily big enough for her to fit through, led into darkness. Wendy shrugged off her pack and set it down. She would only need her knives.
She heard Jeff walking toward her from behind. Before he got too close, Wendy grabbed the pole with both hands and pulled herself forward. Her legs wrapped around the metal and she lowered herself down. The grit kept her from sliding.
The air below felt colder than the hangar. The darkness swallowed her. About fifteen feet down, she stopped and waited for her eyes to adjust.
The pole did not go into the repair bay. She would have seen some light by now. Instead, inky black surrounded her. She gripped the pole tight with one hand and switched her headlamp on low.
A small room, about the size of her cell back in Shelter, lay ten feet below. Clutter and machine parts covered the floor. The pole continued on down through the floor. She swiveled her light and found a door that must lead out into the repair bay. It was closed.
“Great,” Wendy muttered. She shimmied down the rest of the way and gingerly dismounted, careful not to upset anything. The light from her lamp found the corner, and Wendy jumped back, drawing her knives and almost tripping over a pile of junk.
Two small skeletons, clothed in gray shirts and pants, sat huddled together, facing the door.
Wendy swallowed. What had happened here?
She heard a tiny click, then a scuttling. Wendy’s knives followed the sound and she caught a glimpse of a rat skittering out through a hole in another corner.
The walls of the tiny room started to close in around her. Wendy shook the feeling off and turned to the door. A metal pipe had been wedged through the handle, ensuring that no one could get in from the outside. Hopefully it wasn’t locked from out there.
The floor proved to be a worthy obstacle course. Wendy tip toed through the junk and garbage and put her knives away. A closer look at the pipe and Wendy could make out dents from someone trying to break the door down. The kids were lucky it had held.
Or were they?
A quick jiggle told Wendy that it would come loose, but it might take some effort. She had neither time to delay nor the luxury of making noise—she didn’t want to get caught before she could see where Riggs and the others were—so she grabbed each end and began to wiggle the pipe back and forth.
Tiny, high-pitched squeaks accompanied the gesture. Wendy ignored them, reminding herself that getting caught was fine. She just had to get close to Pelton.
But that didn’t keep the hair in the back of her neck from standing on end.
Slowly, a bit at a time, the pipe began to move. More screeching, more effort and finally, after an irritated grunt, the pipe came free. Wendy set it on the floor. She wiggled her fingers and wrapped them around the handle of the door. All she had to do was pull. All she had to do was pull and she would have her revenge on Pelton.
Jeff knew she wasn’t planning on coming back, not if her death meant Pelton’s death too. No, she’d die here to make that happen.
With renewed conviction, Wendy gently pulled the door open. It responded with a low moan. Wendy switched off her lamp and saw the light from the repair bay. It cast eerie shadows on the scene behind her, so Wendy turned her back and moved into the bigger room.
Too much equipment lay between her and the rest of the room to see where Pelton was keeping the others. Like the kids in Shelter playing hide and seek, Wendy moved from a stack of parts to a broken vehicle to crates. A light murmur of voices came from her right, so she turned that direction. When she finally got close enough, she took a moment to peer through the skeletal corpse of a machine.
Pelton stood a dozen yards away. His entourage had grown by two Skinnies, who were nodding as he talked and gestured toward the ceiling. One turn of Pelton’s head and Wendy saw the socket where an ear should be.
A small swell of satisfaction bolstered her resolve. If she could take one chunk out of him, then she could do it again. And again. Until nothing was left.
She moved closer, dodging and ducking, until she scampered across an open space ten feet wide and ducked behind a crate.
The texture of wood under her hands, combined with the dim light and the stench of the room, caused her to shiver. Instead of shoving the monster back, she welcomed it. Rage fueled her muscles and her mind. Wendy took a deep breath, then rose and jumped on the crate.
“Hey, Pelton.” Her voice echoed through the room, bouncing back and forth. What little noise there had been disappeared as all eyes turned toward her.
Wendy watched as Pelton stopped talking and swiveled to face her. She ignored the sound of guns cocking.
Pelton drew his own gun and trained it on her. When his eyes took her in, he smiled. “It’s about time you got here.”
Chapter 21
Pelton’s green eyes gleamed in the dim lights, as did the barrel of his gun. Wendy stood still, no weapons in her hands.
Their eyes met. Wendy counted it a triumph that his lips pressed into a tight line. He was mad. But he didn’t let it last. Instead, he un-cocked his gun and put it back in his belt.
“Wendy,” he said, opening his arms as if they were old friends. “Long time, no see.”
“Too long,” she said, smiling. Her whole body tensed as he started to walk forward, ready to pounce. She kept breathing and willed her muscles to relax. For now.
“How did you find this place?”
“Let’s just say I used the map.”
As she had fantasized a thousand times,
the muscles in his cheeks flexed when she mentioned the map. It was still a sore spot for him.
“Why are you here?” Pelton looked around as he kept coming for her. Slowly, but without falter. “Are these people from your new home?” He pointed behind him.
Wendy followed his gesture with her eyes and could barely make out Riggs, Cal and Janice hanging from the ceiling by their feet. A few Skinnies prowled around below them, the fighters just out of reach. Wendy turned her attention back to Pelton. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Why?” Pelton stopped twenty feet away.
“Because, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re here for a rematch?”
“I’m here for your head.”
Pelton laughed. “Still upset about the Den?”
A wave of anger blossomed and made the monster roar. Her dad. Her sister. The crate. The kids. She let it show on her face. “I’ll get over it just as soon as you’re dead. And if I thought you loved anyone, I would go after them as well.” She put a finger to her lips. “Maybe I’ll find this Primate of yours and kill him. Just for fun.”
That drew a gasp from those in the room. Wendy heard people shuffling toward her. She could still feel the barrel of a gun aimed at her head. She kept her eyes on Pelton’s as she jumped down and started to move under the unstable ceiling.
He took a deep, steadying breath before he spoke. “Too bad you won’t live that long.”
“You going to have one of your guys shoot me? After all of those lessons you taught me about honor and power?” Wendy raised her hands above her head. She kept walking. “Because I’m pretty sure you taught me better than that.” The Primate seemed to be a sore spot, so she went with it. “Or does this Primate believe in killing people in their sleep and leaving them to rot? All horror and no honor?”
Pelton kept his face impassive. “Stop moving, or I will shoot you myself.”
“I’m just looking for a good place to stop.”
“Why?”
Wendy smiled and stopped in the middle of a clear-ish section of the floor. “So I can kill you.” She kept her arms and hands up, away from her knives. “What will it be? Shooting me in the back, or do you have enough honor left to fight me?”
Pelton studied her. His eyes took her in from head to foot and back up again. He held up a hand. “Hold your fire.” His eyes continued to bore into Wendy’s. “You want a rematch? Fine, but don’t think I won’t hurt you before I kill you.”
“I’m counting on it.” Wendy kicked a board out of her way and drew her knives.
Pelton sauntered into the circle. “I think you’ve grown.”
“I’m smarter than I was.”
“That’s what they all say.” Pelton drew his long, curved knife. “Shall we?”
The knives in Wendy’s hands felt like extensions of her own arms. She had spent hours of each day in hand-to-hand combat with whomever she could coerce into sparring with her. She’d soaked up every new technique she could find. All for this moment.
The two of them circled, slowly shifting their feet, never crossing them.
Pelton watched her every move, searching for her normal patterns and digesting new ones.
Wendy made the first move. Pelton’s eyes traveled to her hands, so she darted in and slashed at him.
Of course, he’d been waiting for it. He easily blocked, parried and the two jumped apart, with no injuries to show for their efforts. Pelton didn’t give her any time to recover. He moved in immediately, slashing for her face, her abdomen and then up at her armpit. Wendy dodged out of the way and blocked the last move, following up with her other hand going for his throat.
Pelton didn’t get out of the way fast enough. A thin line of blood welled on his neck. He gingerly placed a finger there and drew it back to look at it. He smiled. “Nicely done.”
Then he really came for her. Pelton had the fastest hands she’d ever seen. His knife became a blur, and his other hand reached out to grab her. She didn’t bother to dodge, but moved in past his knife range, and grabbed his knife wrist.
His other hand came around barreling toward the side of her head. Wendy turned so he hit her in the shoulder. It hurt, but it wasn’t going to knock her out.
And now she had his hand. Which wasn’t a good place to stay for long. Wendy took the pommel of her knife and crashed it against the back of his palm.
Pelton grunted in pain but somehow kept his grip long enough to twist her wrist. Wendy let go of him and twirled under his arm.
She was ready for the shot to the ribs, but she felt her shoulder cry out under the strain. That wasn’t good. Wendy kicked out to sweep him. Pelton got out of the way in time, which gave Wendy a moment to glance around. A handful more Skinnies had joined them.
About time.
Wendy used the breathing room to jump back and up onto a crate. She ran and leaped to another one. Toward the killing zone, but not obviously. Her knee wailed in protest, and she almost stumbled.
Dust rose with her every step. Pelton stalked her, kicking up a cloud of sparkling particles. He didn’t waste time trying to get her down. Instead, he jumped up on a crate and came after her.
They’d fought on rocks before. The combat rooms in Shelter had offered her any sort of terrain she could think up, so she was ready.
The fight quickly turned into a series of attacks and retreats. Pelton got her on the upper arm, and she kicked his knee hard enough that he started to limp. The monster licked its lips, and Wendy charged in.
Wendy wasn’t the only one who had been learning new tricks. Pelton started a combination Wendy didn’t recognize, and she had to retreat before he finished. The last move would have thrown her on the floor, where Pelton could have come down on her and pinned her with his knife through her heart.
More Skinnies gathered. She heard some of them jeering. She thought she heard a voice yell her name, but ignored it. Pelton required all of her attention.
Wendy slowly gave ground. She knew she was headed straight for the big X support. A place that Pelton should see as a good place to finish her. Little did he know it would be his end.
“You’re getting slower,” Pelton said.
“You’re limping,” Wendy said as she backed up some more. Almost there, and most of the crowd was in the killing zone. Perfect.
Wendy went in with one last assault. The monster roared in triumph as she slashed at Pelton from all sides. Her foot struck out and he stumbled back and went down. Springing forward, she crossed her knives under his chin. Pelton lay on the ground, his knife in his hand, but not raised.
Instead of flinching or trying to get away, he smiled.
Which caused Wendy to hesitate. Just long enough for her to feel the barrel of a gun at her temple.
The monster told her to do it anyway. She didn’t care about dying. The others would get away. Kill him. Die with honor and avenge your family.
But Jeff’s smooth voice caused her to hesitate. “Come back.”
Her eyes flickered up, to where Dennis was supposed to be waiting.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Pelton said heedless of her knives biting into his neck. “Your friends are safe. The two from upstairs are right over there.” He flickered his eyes.
“You’re lying,” Wendy said through gritted teeth.
“Oh no, not this time.”
A voice cried out in pain. Jeff.
“Back off or I will kill them, then the ones hanging from the ceiling.” His green eyes danced. “How does it feel to have the fate of so many people on your shoulders?”
The marching of feet sounded before Jeff and Dennis appeared behind Pelton, both held by three Skinnies, their hands tied in front of them. Both had new injuries. Both looked as if they wanted to tear Pelton apart as badly as she did. Neither of them had her pack.
“Hey, Wendy,” Dennis said, in a very Kev fashion.
She furrowed her brow.
He swiveled his eyes to his right. Wendy didn’t have to look. There
was a piece of machinery over there about the size of a car engine.
Dennis met her eyes and mouthed, “shield.”
Wendy’s heart sank. She moved her knives and stepped away from Pelton. The monster screamed at her to stop. She told it to be patient.
“Drop your weapons,” Pelton said.
Wendy’s fingers reluctantly unclenched themselves, and her knives slipped free, hitting the floor with a muted clatter.
“Step back,” Pelton said.
Wendy held his triumphant gaze with a fierce promise that this wasn’t over. Two Skinnies grabbed her and pulled her arms behind her back. The shoulder Pelton had strained complained, but Wendy kept her face impassive.
“Oh, I found your other friends too,” Pelton said. He got to his feet and motioned with a hand. A second later Kev, Sven, Hound and Matt got tossed on the ground. All of them were bloody. The Skinnies surrounding them held their packs.
Wendy’s mouth went dry. The monster told her she should have killed Pelton, because now it didn’t matter.
Pelton went to the packs and dumped the contents on the ground. “Smash everything,” he told the Skinnies. Three of them complied with sickening thoroughness.
The meds. Gone. Everyone caught. Pelton had them.
Wendy’s mind started to spiral down into the tunnels. Once again she was trapped and betrayed by the man she had respected the most. He was going to win.
Jeff met her desperate eyes, half of his face already swelling from the beating the Skinnies had given him. He tried to reassure her, but Wendy could tell he didn’t have anything more than she did.
Pelton’s comment about having so many lives dependant on her had been cruel. He might not have known how it would affect her, but then again maybe he did. She’d been in charge of the kids in the Den. She’d tried to get them out, but failed. They were as dead as her dad and sister were. As dead as everyone here was about to be.
