by S. S. Segran
Ambush, the Canadian Sentry responded. They made off with Mariah’s mom and—
I know. Reyor’s people are giving the kids an ultimatum.
Crap. Gareth just took off after them, but he’s on his own.
We’ve already lost Jag, Colback. I won’t lose these four.
Trust me, none of us want to. But it’s not looking good. I… I’m sorry.
Marshall severed their connection viciously but his grip was gentle as he hoisted Kody up. The rest of the group clustered around them. Mariah, her voice still a cracking whisper, said, “They have our families. Look at us. We’re in no shape to fight fifty fully-armed men, and if we try anything, they’ll kill Marshall and Domi. What do we do?”
Marshall met Tegan’s eyes. He could see the gears in her mind spinning. His own thoughts whirlpooled to find a solution but he drew a blank. They still had the submachine gun and the tranquilizers, but those would never subdue the army before them. He saw Tegan reach the conclusion the same time he did. His heart clenched. Stuttered. Screamed.
Tegan rested a hand on Aari’s shoulder, another on Mariah’s. With her chin held high, she said, “We’re not winning this one.”
Her friends didn’t argue, though a part of Marshall wished they would have. But he knew them; they would not risk the lives of their families and the Sentries.
Mariah rushed into Marshall’s arms. He enfolded her tightly, letting his shirt soak up her grief. “I’ll find you guys,” he whispered. “I promise I’ll find you.”
She looked up at him, mouth open as if she wanted to say something, but all that came out was a broken whimper. Going onto her toes, she brushed a kiss on his cheek and slunk to Dominique, who pulled her close.
Aari solemnly extended a hand to Marshall. The Sentry grabbed it and yanked the redhead into his chest. Aari hugged his arms firmly around his abdomen. No words were exchanged, but none were needed. The teenager attempted a smile, then moved aside.
Kody’s silence didn’t fool Marshall. The boy was sick, angry and scared. He refused to be grabbed in an embrace so the Sentry clasped the back of his neck reassuringly, lingering. The only thing that gave him a shred of hope for the boy’s health was that Reyor wanted the teenagers alive. Phoenix had to have Dr. Deol’s cure somewhere.
Marshall turned to Tegan. To her credit, she hadn’t shed a tear, but he saw the sheen brimming, threatening to spill over. She remained unblinking until the glistening dried, then wrapped her arms around the Sentry’s neck.
“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”
“I couldn’t protect the five of you from this. I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Marshall. It was never your job to protect us. You’ve been helping us since we met, guiding and supporting us. Heck, you even put up with us, and that’s saying something.” She gave a sheepish smile. “But protecting was always meant to be our job. The five of us. That’s our duty. And that’s what we’re doing now.”
Marshall pressed his lips against the top of her head. “The Elders would be so proud of you, kiddo. I know I am.”
They shared a secret fist bump. Aari had already grabbed the box of seeds but left Mariah’s backpack with the Sentries. “Reyor’s people don’t have to know that we’ve already planted one,” he said.
Dominique leaned against her walking stick, the fingers of her free hand pressed against her closed eyelids. “The tree will save so many lives. You will save so many lives.”
“No way could we have done this without you,” Mariah said, taking her hand. “You had the missing piece that unlocked everything.”
“We’ll make sure the tree gets to Dema-Ki,” Marshall said. His gaze shifted to the increasingly restless mercenaries. “Probably best not to keep them waiting any longer.”
He placed his right fist over his heart and bowed. Dominique did the same and the teenagers returned the gesture. Then, with one last look at the Sentries, they turned and walked shoulder to shoulder toward the helicopters.
“Gareth! Sitrep!”
Gareth clicked his radio, keeping his other hand firmly on the wheel. “I’m closing in, Vic. Quarter mile between them and me.”
“The kids know about the situation. They gave themselves up.”
Gareth’s radio should have snapped from his death grip. “What?”
“They just got into a chopper. With the seeds. It’s over, Gareth.”
The Welshman flung the radio into the passenger seat. A cyclone of obscenities and pleas spun until they were nothing more than blinding thoughts. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he’d failed Ina Deol and her daughter. It wasn’t fair that he’d failed the Chosen Ones. It wasn’t fair that something always went wrong just when something else started to go right.
Shadowed fields blurred past the windows. Cloud-cover concealed the moon. The speedometer topped out at a hundred-and-twenty miles per hour but the other black SUV, just slightly slower, managed to stay out of Gareth’s reach. The Sentry shuffled through his options. Melting the asphalt to trap the abductors wouldn’t work at his distance, and doing the same to the tires could lead to an accident.
A sharp crack reached his ears as a bullet buried itself in the fender of his SUV. One of the two hostage-takers leaned out of the back right window, firing at the Sentry’s tires. Gareth swung his vehicle to the assailants’ other side, but the gunner followed to the left window. The Welshman kept a hand on the gearshift and maneuvered instinctively, dodging a few projectiles while others skinned the body of his vehicle.
The Sentry assessed the situation; it would either end with his tires shot or the gunner running out of ammunition. There has got to be a way to beat this, he seethed.
He narrowed in on the two tailpipes by the SUV’s rear right tire. A memory flickered amidst his thoughts: He saw himself and his brother, thirteen years old—experimenters, troublemakers. Gareth had a potato in hand and Deverell held the keys to their father’s car. Swapping mischievous grins, Deverell jumped behind the steering wheel, ready to turn the ignition. Gareth shoved the potato into the tailpipe, somersaulted to a safe spot and waited eagerly to hear some kind of boom. To the brothers’ disappointment, the car only stalled.
The memory winked away. Gareth leaned on the gas as he avoided the bullets, knowing it barely brought him closer to the SUV ahead. He focused on the first of the vehicle’s tailpipes. The metal began to glow from red to orange, to bright yellow. Before it hit white-hot, the pipe melted in on itself, closing the opening.
The SUV jerked and sputtered, slowing but stubbornly pushing on. Gareth concentrated on the second tailpipe as he drew closer. As soon as the metal had fused closed, a dull boom reverberated across the empty freeway. Smoke rolled out from under the abductors’ vehicle as it came to a rough stop.
Gareth barely had a second to revel in his success. The two abductors leapt out, growing brighter under the headlights of his SUV, their rifles spitting. Gareth knew he’d lost his front tires when the car started to swerve and kick without his permission. In a split-second decision he grabbed his radio, shoved the door open and threw himself onto the road. His tumble was wild and reckless. He scraped his jeans, hands and head but his leather jacket protected him from more damage. Adrenaline was his friend, keeping him from gaging just how badly he was hurt.
With shaky arms, he pushed himself up and watched his ride skid at an angle before flipping onto its side. The Sentry leapt toward the overturned vehicle for cover. The reek of burned rubber permeated the scene.
Peeking past the vehicle’s hood, he found the leading commando with an eyepatch and an imposing stature coming from the left. Gareth shrank away just as two bullets raced past his ear. He couldn’t hide forever. It needed to end, one way or another.
He took a second to steady his pulse, then launched himself into the ditch beside the road. Keeping low, he zoomed in on the leading commando’s rifle. The weapon heated in moments. The man dropped the gun, hissing, and ripped off his blisterin
g tactical gloves.
Gareth saw the second commando in his peripherals putting the Sentry in his sights. Before he could act, a silhouette appeared behind the abductor and delivered a blow to the back of his head. The commando stumbled and spun to face his attacker but was promptly met with an elbow to the face. He buckled. The silhouette tore the rifle away and slammed it against the fallen man’s head. The commando fell sideways.
Realizing he’d been distracted, Gareth shifted his attention back to the man with the eyepatch but was too slow. The commando had pulled out his pistol, firing rapidly. Three bullets missed and the fourth clipped the side of the Sentry’s abdomen, but Gareth barely felt it. He stretched his hand out, using it to bring his ability to bear.
The commando shuddered involuntarily, skin paling in the darkness. He fell to the road as though his legs were ice blocks smashed by a pickaxe. He shivered, each judder shaking his body. “W-what’s hap… happening?” he gasped.
Gareth straggled over to the man, towering over him. The commando could barely look up at the Sentry.
“What’s happening?” Gareth repeated, kneeling so he was at eye-level. “Instant cold shock response, mate. You’re freezing too fast and your heart is working overtime to pump enough blood to keep your body warm.”
“Make it s-stop,” the commando groaned. “I c-can’t… I can’t f-feel…”
Gareth despised imparting threats, but his emotions did a wondrous job chasing the sentiment away. “If I keep this up,” he said, “you’ll get colder. More confused. Your heart will stop working. So, that being said, if you come after any of us again, I will not hesitate to end you. Don’t test me.”
The silhouette of Gareth’s savior appeared by his side. Samuel Tyler gave the Sentry a hand up. “Thank you,” the former Air Force pilot said. “Thank you for coming for us.”
Gareth couldn’t bring himself to say anything. All he could think was that he’d been too late. The teenagers were already in the chopper that would take them right to Reyor.
64
The friends sat on fold-away canvas seats attached to the side of the chopper’s hot, musty-smelling cargo hold. Mariah, Aari and Tegan were near the cockpit, and Kody was closest to the sealed ramp. Across from them, Ajajdif held the box of seeds, his square face set in a cautious smile. A branded white dress shirt and black slacks covered his mesomorph form, and a handgun glinted in his thigh holster.
Mariah had trouble discerning his age but decided to pin him in his mid-forties. His face, marred by faint scars, carried the intensity of a man who’d seen and experienced his fair share of life’s struggles. His accent proved his Russian heritage, but there was something about his appearance that bespoke another ethnicity as well.
“So, we found our missing men in a lava chute up the mountain,” Ajajdif said, almost conversationally. “Well done overpowering them. It’s a good thing I had a lock on their positions before we lost connection. They’re waiting for our arrival now, with a plane that will take us out of Africa. I’m sure they’d love to see you again.”
He pointed at Mariah. “I remember you. You and that woman. One of you sent me through the roof of my office back in the Canadian mining site. I was in a neck brace for weeks.” He called to one of the four mercenaries riding with them. “Sedate her first.”
“You said if we came quietly—” Tegan started.
“All I said was I’d spare lives. The sedatives are to make the ride smoother for us. I’d let my men shoot you with their darts, but at this range it would hurt. A lot. Still, if you don’t cooperate, I will give them the order to fire. I can be nice, see?”
Three of the mercenaries hefted their pistols at Mariah. The girl worked down the lump in her throat. The fourth mercenary readied a syringe and knelt in front of her. She clenched her hands but Tegan lightly tapped a knee against hers, cautioning her not to act impulsively. The needle had barely touched her skin when Kody stomped his feet and thrashed.
“He’s sick!” Ajajdif glanced at the box of seeds in his hands, then at Kody. “Never mind the girl. Sedate him first!”
Kody’s mouth had adopted a foul vocabulary distressingly unlike him. It alarmed Mariah as she listened to the sickness toying with his mind. He shouted and screeched, fighting against the safety belt around his waist as the mercenaries turned to him.
Tegan, they’re gonna sedate him! Mariah thought. We need to do something!
Stand down, Tegan warned. If we try anything, we’ll be risking our families.
So we just let them put Kody under?!
I think the stress is accelerating the infection. Listen to him. He’s yelling that he’s burning up. The fever’s getting worse. It’s best to let them sedate him. That way he won’t hurt anyone. And more importantly, he won’t hurt himself.
Mariah dug her heels into the floor, forcing herself to listen to Tegan’s wisdom, then twisted to look out the oval window behind her. They were a hundred feet in the air; on either flank at ground level, the other two helicopters were lifting off. Beside her, Aari leaned into her shoulder and she pressed back against him, both searching for some comfort to shore themselves up.
A presence like the sun melting away a cold winter knocked on Mariah’s mind. She recognized Dominique instantly and opened up. Domi, we—
The Sentry didn’t let her finish. Your families are safe! You can fight, Mariah! Fight!
She didn’t need to be told twice. From Tegan’s expression, Mariah knew she’d gotten the news from Marshall. The girls coughed, grabbing Aari’s attention. He noticed the change in their demeanor and nodded. To the man who finally managed to slide the syringe into Kody’s neck, he goaded, “You know he’s contagious, right? We all are. And you’re stuck in here with us.”
The mercenaries backed away from the teenagers as Kody slumped, unconscious. Ajajdif snarled. “What are you doing? Sedate them!”
As the man with the syringe reluctantly prepped another dose for Aari, Mariah looked out the window again and located the large log the friends had sat on. She tunneled her energy toward it and the log took off like a mortar, striking the tail rotor of a chopper below them. The aircraft went into an uncontrollable spin before plummeting to the ground. Mercenaries scrambled out from the back of the broken but still upright chopper, some injured, but Mariah didn’t see any fatalities.
A shout came from the cockpit as the pilot relayed the crash to a dismayed Ajajdif.
Emboldened by her feat, Mariah aimed the remnant of the log at the second helicopter’s tail. Realizing belatedly that the chopper fifty feet in the air had begun to turn, she couldn’t adjust the log’s trajectory. It slammed into the front of the aircraft, embedding half of its ten-foot length in the cockpit. She stifled a horrified shriek. The chopper tilted perilously to its right, its controls most likely jammed. It floundered, scraping the ground before smashing into the thorny foliage of an acacia tree. The collision didn’t result in an explosion but the helicopter landed hard on its underside. Mercenaries lurched out of the aircraft, dazed.
With two choppers down, Ajajdif swore wildly, the four mercenaries taken aback by his oaths. Aari unbuckled himself and charged, throwing one of them down. Mariah disarmed the men with a flick of her fingers and Tegan grabbed a dislodged weapon as Aari grabbed another. Muffled pops preceded two men dropping to the floor.
Outmaneuvered and now outnumbered, Ajajdif grabbed Tegan around her neck and pulled the gun from his holster, pressing it against her temple. “I will end her right here, right now!” he growled. “I think I’ll be forgiven if I return with just three of you alive.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Aari hissed.
“You want to test that theory? You have uncanny talents, yes. But you never should have tried this.”
“You don’t have our families anymore,” Mariah fumed.
“How did you know—” Ajajdif struck out with his leg, kneeing Mariah in her abdomen and throwing her back into her seat. “Forget it. Poshel ty. Screw you kids and your witc
hcraft. We may no longer have your families, but we have you. That was all we needed.”
“You won’t have us,” Tegan leered. “You have my word.”
Ajajdif snapped an order at the remaining Tanzanian. The mercenary picked up a fresh syringe from a compartment under Kody’s seat and loaded the sedative.
“One slight move,” Ajajdif said, “any inkling of your magic, the slightest hint, and my trigger-happy finger will blow a hole in her head.”
Mariah yelled a thought. Teegs!
Don’t do anything, Tegan said. Just wait.
“Mr. Ajajdif,” the Tanzanian pilot called uneasily, his accent slathered on every syllable. “You might want to see this.”
“What is it?” Ajajdif shouted, glaring into the cockpit.
“Please, sir, come here.”
Ajajdif dragged Tegan along as he ducked past the bulkhead. There was a moment of quiet. Then he asked hoarsely, “Is that a swarm?”
“Yes, sir. And it’s coming right for us.”
Mariah pulled against her safety belt to see what the men were talking about. Ajajdif shifted to the side and she felt her mouth drop open. Her reaction caused the remaining mercenary to peer into the cockpit as well. His face mirrored hers.
A black-white-and-red cloud of birds spanning a hundred yards soared toward the helicopter, slightly above the aircraft’s flight path. Ajajdif gestured irascibly at the blockade. “Just go higher!”
“I can’t, Mr. Ajajdif,” the pilot said. “The birds are too close. If I bring us higher, they’ll fly right into us, hit our rotors and get ingested by the engines.”
“Fine. Fine! Wait until they pass, then.” Ajajdif looked at Mariah and Aari suspiciously, pressing the gun against Tegan’s head. They stared back, wearing masks of innocence.
The birds were on top of them in seconds. They all strained to look out the windows, gawking. The chopper hung in the eye of the storm as the creatures trapped them in a tornado of feathers and wings. Mariah reached out to Tegan. This is you, Teegs?
