New World Rising

by Jennifer Wilson

  MOUSE’S EYES BLURRED with tears, but she didn’t let a single one fall. Triven and I had packed for four days. Several of our elected groups were already spread throughout the city, wreaking havoc on the tainted citizens of Tartarus. Our plan was working. Tribes were beginning to attack each other. And with my knowledge of the Ravagers, many of the Tribe wars were effectively blamed on them. It seemed an uprising was indeed brewing and it smelled like revolution. The other members of The Subversive had done their part, now it was our turn.

  Triven and I were to gather information. I had a few allies in the outside world that could prove useful. There was one in particular I needed to speak to, but trust was not something you could earn from him. In my pack I carried three titanium knives, a heat-seeking gun and a motion-sensor bomb. They were most of what the ambushed recon party had stolen from the Ravagers. They seemed heavy in my pack. Their weight was a constant reminder that I had not confided their presence to Triven. Mouse’s drawing was also stuffed in my bag as a reminder to come back. It bothered me that such a sweet drawing was currently pressed against a lethal bomb. That alone was a sick reminder why I was doing this.

  Mouse held my hand as we moved towards one of the escape hatches. She knew we would be gone for a few days and I could see the fear in her eyes that she understood we might not come back. To be honest, that thought scared me too. As I glanced down at the orphaned child holding my hand, it still shocked me how much she had changed my life. When we reached the door I crouched down to her level, taking her hands in mine.

  “We will be back in a few days.”

  She nodded, her eyes welling with tears again. She stuck out her first two fingers on each hand and moved her fists together in a circular motion. She was telling me something in sign language. I felt horrible for not having studied that book harder.

  Triven came to my rescue, squatting down beside us. “We will, you be careful too. Listen to Veyron, okay?”

  “And don’t let Maribel get you into any trouble.” I added, thinking of her boisterous friend.

  Mouse threw her arms around my neck and squeezed tightly. I clutched her in return, my tiny lifeline. I swallowed hard as she hugged Triven and took Veyron’s hand.

  “Take care of her.” I didn’t mean for it to sound like a threat, but it did. Okay, maybe I meant it just a little.

  Mouse’s brave face tore at me more than her tears. She was strong, like me, but I hated it. She should be playing happily with her friends, not worrying that two people she loved might die. I turned and headed for the door before her tears could trigger my own.

  The night air felt stale when we reached the rooftop. I turned my face toward the grey-green sky, willing it to wash away all of the worry and guilt weighing me down. If I wanted to survive the next four days I needed a clear mind. I could feel Triven close behind me, careful as always not to touch me unless I initiated it. I wanted to lean back to feel his chest pressed to my back, warm and sturdy, but I didn’t. Clear head I reminded myself.

  “Where are we going first?” Triven asked.

  “To see The Master.” I turned to face him. “I need you to keep up with me. It’s imperative you don’t ask questions and don’t fall behind. When we get there… he is a little… unorthodox. He will try to kill us, especially you. He is not kind to those he doesn’t know. Protect yourself, I can handle my own. Whatever you do, don’t kill him.”

  If Triven was worried he didn’t show it.

  I turned my back on him and gave him one last warning. “Don’t let him kill you either.”

  I never had to look back to see if Triven was following me or not. His feet were as silent as mine, but I could feel him. Our other counterparts had done their jobs. Unlike most nights, the city wasn’t quiet. Pillars of swirling smoke rose in various sectors and random gunfire could be heard echoing through the streets. Tartarus was at war again and this time it was our hands that fired first. The Subversive was still unseen, but we were no longer hiding.

  My feet slowed as we reached The Master’s hideout. He had taken over a huge old building that had some kind of vault in its basement. I had seen it once when I was younger. The door was nearly a foot thick with three-inch thick bars that protruded out of it when engaged by a wheel on the front. Mostly I remember the sound— it was so final when that door shut. Like it would never open again. This was the room I hoped to see today. Inside was a collection of weapons and gadgets that could rival the Ravagers. I was pretty sure there was also something more valuable there. Maps. Maps of the city before The Devastation, which were supposedly lost. As well as maps of The Sanctuary, which were worth more than my weight in weapons. I vaguely remembered them on the wall, hidden behind plated glass. I only hoped my memory was not playing tricks on me.

  I could see his building three roofs ahead of ours. Surely he knew of our presence already. Now it was just waiting for him to make the first move. I felt the ground beneath us shake as something exploded a few miles away, a new plume of smoke rising. Triven hesitated behind me. I hissed though my teeth to keep him moving.

  My ears registered the sound before my other senses could. I dropped and kicked Triven’s feet out from beneath him. The knife barely nicked his left ear as he went down. No sooner had his back hit the ground, he was rolling onto his feet again. Three more knives pierced the night, one narrowly missing my head and two others imbedding themselves into my backpack as I twisted away. I dropped the bag— its weight making me feel unbalanced— as my hands moved to my weapons.

  I barely had my knife out of its holster before his first blow landed. Something reminiscent of a foot struck my chest forcing the air from me. My body recoiled backwards as my feet flipped upwards. Tucking with the momentum, I rolled back over my shoulder into a crouch. I could hear more collisions of flesh, like meat hitting meat. Triven was now engaging him. A body flew past mine, grunting as it hit the tar, and I sprang back into the fight.

  I had forgotten how fast The Master moved. How hard it was to follow, to predict him, but I held my ground. Blood was trickling down my nose, the coppery taste catching on my lips. There was an opening as his left hand moved for another knife. With a quick thrust I smashed my fist into his exposed nose. It crunched beneath my hand. As I drew back something hard collided with the side of my head causing my left eye to go black. When I blinked again my face was against the rooftop. Feet were dancing in and out of my sightline and it took me a minute to remember who they belonged to. I forced my feet back into submission underneath me and rose unsteadily.

  Triven was on the ground now, a taller and leaner man sitting astride his half-conscious body. The knife pressed into his throat was trailing a thin line of blood as The Master pushed against Triven’s restraining hands. Triven was managing to keep the blade from sinking in deeper, but just barely.

  I pressed my gun to the back of The Master’s unruly, shaggy dark head. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “No fair bringing a gun to a knife fight.” His strange accent was still thick even after all these years.

  “Weren’t you the one who taught me only a fool brings just knives.” I kept the barrel pressed to his skull, my finger on the trigger.

  He laughed as he retracted the blade from Triven’s throat. “Glad to see something got into that thick skull of yours.”

  He rose to his feet, his dark eyes studying me as he stepped back from Triven’s body.

  Keeping my gun on him, I reached out to help pull Triven to his feet.

  “Weapons.” I nodded at the ground.

  With a rye smile the tall man began to unload an impressive amount of weaponry from his body. Once the metallic clanking stopped and his pockets appeared empty he began to walk away. I nodded at Triven to pick up a few of the knives, and with my gun still aimed between his shoulder blades, we followed The Master to his lair.