by Mark Lingane
The door creaked open and Brad limped over to him. They stood together, looking out over the dam.
“Good job, Sebastian,” Brad said. “Tyler and Will have told me all the things you did.” He gave him a pat on the back. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Sebastian bent his head and smiled. “Don’t worry. No one’s ever been happy to see me turn up.”
“So, what can you do with all this power?”
“Watch this.”
A steel beam, which had once been part of a walkway across the dam, had broken free and was resting across the top of the dam, impeding the flow of water. Sebastian felt its weight in his mind, the molecules bonding it together, and he lifted it. The massive beam rose into the air and pirouetted in front of them. There were several loud pings and groans as the bent edges straightened out, and the beam returned to its original shape. He lifted the walkway and moved the beam back into position, then fused it into place.
“I can do more, but I need a lot more power. I can also do it without a power source, but then it hurts me physically.”
“Can you do it with anything?”
“No, mainly iron-based things. Although, when I get enough clean power, I can start affecting any matter at the molecular level. But I need more than this,” he said, indicating the water flowing over the dam.
Sounds of merriment continued out of the control room.
“Check this out.” Sebastian picked up a small, jagged piece of metal. He took Brad’s arm and poked the corner into his arm. “Feel that?”
Brad nodded.
He handed the piece of metal to Brad to hold. He held out his own hand, palm up. He sensed the molecular structure in his mind, felt the electrical pattern, then transferred it to the air molecules in his hand. He gauged the weight. In his hand was a duplicate of the metal piece, invisible. He felt the edges, picked up the replicated piece, and poked it into Brad’s arm.
“Ouch,” Brad said, rubbing his arm. “How are you doing that?”
“I’ve transferred the molecular structure to the atoms in the air. I’ve duplicated the piece of metal.”
“Out of air?”
“Yes, out of air.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Obviously,” Sebastian said. He smiled. He released the structure from his mind, and the piece of metal in Brad’s grip crumbled to rust. “Back home, I could do that with swords, guns, shields, anything metal.”
“And here?”
He sighed. “A bit. But I haven’t found the big, clean energy power sources we have at home. It’s also far more painful here, and it makes me bleed. I’m not sure why.”
“If I were you, I’d keep that information quiet. There are a lot of bad people who—”
There was a loud explosion inside the building, followed by machine-gun fire. They ran back inside. Sebastian slid quickly down the handrails, and Brad limped down behind him a step at a time, pain continually stabbing into him. He ran down the narrow passageway and burst out into a firefight. Everyone had taken refuge behind a collapsed wall, and they were firing at a group of heavyset men who were returning their fire.
“Outlaws,” Memphis shouted. She indicated for him to hide behind the fallen wall, next to her.
“No,” Sebastian cried.
He blinked and the bullets froze in the air. There was silence. He blinked again and the outlaw’s weapons crumpled. The pain blasted into his mind, knocking him back against the wall. He fought against unconsciousness, forcing himself to breathe slowly. Through blurred vision, he saw the soldiers charge the outlaws. They fell quickly, but more outlaws poured in behind them, their weapons intact. It was clear that the combined Chargers and 49th soldiers were outnumbered.
Tyler was outflanked by four outlaws. Sebastian shook the pain from his mind and charged in to help him. He drove his sword into one of the outlaws, whose mouth was foaming green.
Another outlaw charged at Sebastian with a dagger. He caught the man’s thrust, twisted it around and brought the dagger back into the man’s neck. He twisted it and ripped out the blade. Green blood poured from the man’s neck.
He looked at the blade. A large piece had broken off and fallen to the floor. He picked it up and handed it to Tyler. “A souvenir of your time here.”
Tyler smiled. He slipped it through the buttons on his shirt and into the breast pocket on his undershirt. “I’ll treasure it—duck!”
A semi-deranged outlaw flew at Tyler and tackled him to the ground. Sebastian grabbed the crazed man and ripped him off the prone tackle. He swung the man around and flung him into another outlaw.
Tyler struggled to his feet. “You’re a deceptively strong young man.” He eyed Sebastian suspiciously. “You’re not turning into one of those infected freaks, are you?”
The battle was brief. Thomas and Brad coordinated a pincer attack and quickly brought the outlaw attack to a brief and sticky halt. There was a cheer from the soldiers. The two centers grasped each other’s hands and shook firmly.
Brad smiled. “We did it, comrade,” he said.
Thomas smiled back. “Unbelievable. Who’d have thought the Forty-niners would be our friends.”
“War makes fools of us all,” Brad said.
Before anyone knew what was happening, Clint shouldered his rifle and shot Thomas.
31
THOMAS CLUTCHED AT his arm, slammed back against the wall, and was knocked unconscious. Everyone else jumped for cover.
Clint rounded on Sebastian and snarled at him. “And I’ve had enough of you, you freak. Types like you are the spawn of the devil, destined to do nothing but destroy us.” He pulled the trigger, and shot after shot pounded into Sebastian’s chest, driving him backward.
Sebastian toppled down the stairway into the chamber below. Memphis cried out as he disappeared from view.
A manic giggle slipped from Clint’s lips and he looked at Thomas, slumped against the wall. “I’ve listened to this fool of a leader for too long. He’s lost his mind.”
Everyone was in shock from the sudden outburst and remain paralyzed in their positions.
“Men, believers, it’s time to start phase two of the plan.”
A handful of Chargers moved to stand at Clint’s side. Grinning, they aimed their weapons at the remaining soldiers, who laid down their weapons and raised their hands.
“Tyler, and all you men of the Forty-ninth, I’m your new leader,” Clint said, with a noticeable twitch when he said the word leader. “And the rest of you spineless Chargers, you all need to do as I say now.”
Tyler glared at him. “No. This was not the plan. Stay where you are, men.”
“It never was the plan. You fool. It was never your plan,” Clint spat.
“What are you saying?”
“There are other things going on here. Bigger things.” Clint twitched again. “There’s a new power coming. New agreements.”
“Surely you’re not fool enough to be in league with the outlaws. You don’t make a deal with fire,” Tyler said.
“Fire purifies. The Church tells us to be pure.”
“You’re making a very bad jump in logic.”
“We’ll see who comes out on top. You come with us and revel in the glory of our victory, or you die and the Forty-ninth army drowns in the blood of their despicable deeds.”
“I don’t follow men who use the words ‘glory’ and ‘blood’ in the same sentence,” Tyler said.
“Then you’ve chosen your destiny. You will not prevail. Take off your uniform.”
Tyler gave him a look of confusion. “I don’t understand you.”
“Do it now,” Clint screamed. He twitched again and waved his weapon menacingly.
Tyler slowly started to unclip his armor and unbutton his uniform. His eyes roamed around the landing as his fingers fumbled with the various attachments. Fingers. There was something about that word …
Fingers were gripping the edge of the landing.
He glanced at Clint; h
e hadn’t seen. Tyler shifted position, forcing Clint to follow his movement to keep his rifle aimed at Tyler. This will take a miracle, Tyler thought, but Sebastian seems to be made of them.
“You,” Clint said, as he swung the rifle toward a 49th soldier, “give him your uniform.”
“I’d rather die than give up my badge for vermin like you,” the young 49th soldier replied.
“Easily done,” Clint said, and prepared to fire.
“Just do it, soldier,” Brad said. “It’s just a uniform.”
The soldier glared at Clint, but did as he was told.
“The rest of you Forty-ninth monsters, do the same,” Clint said, waving the rifle barrel.
“Why do you want our uniforms?” one of the men asked.
“Just shut up and do it,” Clint screamed. Sweat stood out on his brow.
The men stripped down, and Clint’s newly formed team suited up in the 49th uniforms. They danced around in the clothing, pretending to be an effeminate version of the 49th army.
The 49th soldiers stood in nothing but their underwear. Clint smiled at them and emptied a magazine above the defenseless men. They cowered, huddling together. The noise of the bullets roared around the chamber.
Thomas stirred and sat up. He winced at the pain in his arm. Luckily it was just a flesh wound. “What’s going on?” he said.
“He had a plan, too,” Brad muttered.
“Center, what are you doing? You’re a traitor,” Clint shouted, his manic energy bubbling over.
“Clint,” Thomas said calmly, “I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. The Forty-ninth men are not monsters. We were sold a lie. Surely the last few days we’ve been with them have proven that.”
“The Church doesn’t lie,” Clint replied, his voice amplified by his manic energy.
“I’m beginning to believe the Church has done nothing but lie,” Tyler murmured.
A dozen heavily armed outlaws filed into the room. Their pale faces looked hungry and distant, their leather uniforms beaten and torn. They all showed signs of having been in a heavy battle they’d won by the narrowest of margins.
“Final chance. Those who aren’t with us, surrender now,” Clint said.
The 49th men stood up and raised their hands. Thomas and Tyler joined them.
“Do we kill the hydropower?” one of the outlaws asked Clint.
“No,” Clint replied. “I was told that if the power went off, the Forty-ninth would know something was wrong. We’ll shoot whoever we don’t take with us.”
“Clint, one of the rules of the Church,” Thomas said, “is that we don’t shoot our own soldiers. You know this.”
“You’re not on our side anymore.”
“I wear a Charger’s uniform, Clint. You can’t deny the uniform.”
A twitch hit Clint hard; his face was conflicted. “Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll kill you in front of the others in the city, a sacrifice to the glory of the Church of Truth. Now, in the name of the Church, you’re all prisoners of war, traitors to the truth.”
The prisoners were marched out through the facility into the compound. The water continued its eternal cascade over the dam, and spray washed across them. Several trucks were lined up on the flat ground in front of the building. Two-thirds of the outlaws jumped into the first two. A large black box took up most of the space in the third truck; Memphis was pushed into the back and handcuffed beside the ominous box. Several outlaws climbed in with her. Some of the prisoners were loaded into another truck, and the rest were held near the door of the facility.
“Head down to the gate,” Clint shouted to the drivers of the first two trucks. “Make sure it stays open to welcome in our allies.”
“Can I go to the gate?” shouted one Charger.
“No,” Clint said, “you’re coming to the capital with me.”
The two trucks coughed into life and rumbled toward the gate.
Brad was standing on the tarmac with the remaining prisoners. “You can’t beat a whole fortified city with only a handful of men,” he said.
“Really? I’m going to take down the whole seaboard. It’ll be a blast. And you’re going to help us.”
“No,” Brad shouted. He struggled, managing to break the grip of the man holding him, and charged at Clint.
Clint slammed the butt of his rifle down onto Brad’s shoulder, reopening his wound. Brad dropped to the ground, doubled up with pain. He clutched his shoulder and blood flowed between his fingers.
A Charger ran up to Clint and whispered in his ear. They both looked over at Tyler and Thomas.
“No, no,” Clint said. “They’ve got to wear …”
The Charger whispered again, and the two became locked in conversation. The Charger gave a final nod and Clint marched over to the men.
“Swap uniforms,” he commanded.
“No,” Thomas said. “You can’t deny the uniform of the leader.”
“You’re not a leader. You’re not a Charger. Get out of them or I’ll shoot.”
“You won’t shoot,” Thomas said.
Clint fired. The ground beneath their feet erupted in a spray of sand. “I will.”
They changed reluctantly, and Clint forced Thomas, Brad, and Tyler into the fourth truck with the other prisoners. The tick on Clint’s face grew more pronounced as he fought against his inner demons. Tyler slowly lowered Brad down onto the floor of the truck. There was little he could do with no medical supplies. He clamped down on the injury, trying to stop the flow, but all that happened was a cry of pain from Brad.
Clint stood in front of the remaining Chargers and a handful of outlaws, briefing them on the plan, and organizing them into groups.
Sebastian’s fingers were numb. As he heard the last outlaw stomp out, he swung up and rolled onto the landing. His hands and arms were throbbing. He released his memory and the flattened bullets fell away from his tunic. He wiped his hand across his nose. It was bleeding, but the hydropower was helping him.
He stumbled to his feet and ran for the exit. He peered out into the compound. Two trucks had just driven away on the northern road. Two remained. He saw Memphis handcuffed inside one of them. Thomas, Tyler, and others were chained in the second, which was parked near some bushes. Several outlaws climbed into the truck with Memphis, leaving the other temporarily unattended.
Keeping low, he crept around the side of the compound, making his way behind the vegetation until he came up against the side of the truck. He hissed, and threw a small rock at Thomas.
Thomas turned; he was surprised to see the young man. “I thought you were a goner,” he whispered.
Sebastian smiled.
“What should I do?” Thomas whispered. He leaned over the side of the truck.
“Two trucks are heading for the east and southern gates of the capital. Stop them if you can. I think we can handle these ones.”
“Should I get help?”
“Most of the outlaws are gone. I reckon we can have a good chance of overpowering these ones. We just need to pick our moment.”
Tyler saw the back of Sebastian’s head as he crept back into the bushes. “Where’s he going?” he asked Thomas.
“He’s gone to get help.”
Brad looked up at Tyler. “We should’ve reminded Sebastian that our truck’s on the other side of the forest. They don’t know about it. It should still be there.”
Sebastian ran up the narrow passageway and out onto the observation deck. He climbed up onto the railing and leaped out into the great void above the dam. He fell, and as he fell he held out his arms and let the hydroelectric power flow through him. He felt the current in the air reverse the polarity, forcing the wind to thrust up against him, slowing his descent. He landed on a cushion of air and ran off down the road.
Sitting at the back of the truck, Tyler and Brad had a clear view out over the dam. They watched Sebastian soar in the air and land.
“How did he do that?” Tyler said, shaking his head.
; “He’s a teenager,” Brad said. “He thinks he’s invincible.”
“From what I’ve seen, he is.”
The two trucks that had left earlier appeared on Sebastian’s left, making their way down into the valley. The first was being driven erratically, barely making the corners as it careened down the dangerous road, already several dozen yards in front of the second.
In single-minded pursuit, Sebastian ran off the end of a concealed cliff. He dropped halfway down the scarp before he could react and gust the wind underneath him. He landed with a heavy thud, rolling onto his shoulder before leaping up onto his feet. The second truck was directly in front of him, but heading away. He shouted in frustration at the near miss.
He ran through the woods, listening to the rumbling sound of the trucks through the vegetation. His feet pounded over the uneven ground, causing him to leap from log to mound, skipping over the treacherous terrain. He misjudged a peak and tripped, tumbling down the hillside. He landed in the center of the muddy road. The tire imprints left by the trucks showed they were still ahead of him.
The road curved down and away. He jumped up and continued on the shortcut through the forest. He could see flashes of the second truck through the trees as it passed on the road below. He crashed out through the trees, narrowly missing the vehicle. It rolled onto a flat, straight stretch and accelerated away. There was no way he was going to catch it now.
The smell of petrol fumes lay heavy in the air.
Fumes.
He stopped and concentrated. He sensed that the truck had a small battery. It was old and weak. It had cables carrying the power to the engine. He focused and reversed the magnetic charge on the battery. The terminals shorted and sparked. There was a moment of silence as the engine misfired then exploded, launching the truck into the air.
He cleared his mind and focused on the first truck, but it was out of range. He looked down at the rest of the hill, but he couldn’t see if the trail continued to follow the road. There was no way he could give chase.
