The Cure

by Teyla Branton

  “I’ve lost them,” I shouted to Ritter. We’d reached the parking lot near the entrance to the ruins, brought to a standstill by several busses and a streaming crowd of people. No way to pass with all the cars and pedestrians.

  I looked toward the flow of people heading to the park’s entrance, sensing a shuttered mind. I found the owner easily, a blond mortal who studied each passerby intently. His bulky overcoat despite the heat warned me he was armed. Another fainter signature was closer to the entrance. “Keene’s right. They’re watching,” I told Ritter. “Not the ones we were following, but at least two others. Should we grab one of them instead?”

  “Too many people around.” Ritter guided the bike into the slight opening between a bus and a taxi. He turned before the parking lot on a small dirt path, heading off road. Deep into the jungle we went, the foliage growing thicker with every passing minute. I held on tightly, pressing my cheek against the hardness of Ritter’s back to avoid being slapped in the face by stray branches.

  Finally, we could go no further, and he killed the engine. We wasted a few precious moments covering the bike with branches, though it was unlikely we’d ever go back for it. “We should be in range now.” Ritter pulled an earbud from his pocket, attached to a thin cord that also held a tiny microphone. Ingenious in that it could pass as an earbud for any musical device or cell phone. “Dimitri, Jace, Mari, can you all hear me? We’re here and preparing to enter the park now. Any sign of them?”

  I put in my own earbud in time to hear Dimitri’s response. “Nothing. They’ve roped off one of the monuments. Apparently, they’re going to use it for the celebration as a sort of stage. They’ve got a group of about two dozen children here, all dressed in native gear. We’ve got to find Benito in time.” Worry filled Dimitri’s voice, a rare occurrence in the two months I’d known him.

  I turned on my mic to speak. “I can’t sense him.” In fact, I couldn’t sense anyone at the moment, only Ritter, whose thoughts were as dark as they came. Not even Jace or Mari appeared on my radar. “Any eyes on Keene?”

  “He doesn’t seem to be in the park yet,” Jace said. “So he’s probably not in radio range.”

  “The senator isn’t around either,” added Mari.

  Ritter frowned. “Well, it’s a big park, and if I were Justine and her cronies, I’d stay out of sight until the celebration began. Keep searching—and keep your radios on.” He switched off his mic and added to me, “Let’s go.”

  Ritter and I fought our way through the jungle, finally managing to reach the part of the ruins that had been uncovered and reclaimed from the jungle. It seemed ludicrous to me to check people at the entrance when anyone who was seriously intent on attacking the senator and his sister would have done enough research to find another way inside.

  We stayed in the trees, moving in a circuit around the open area. I pushed outward, trying to sense what I could, but the only thing coming through was the occasional burst of an unshielded mind. So much confusion and excitement radiated in those bursts that I felt nauseated.

  I checked the clock on the GPS Ritter had distributed to each of us. “We’re nearly out of time.”

  Ritter held up his tiny microphone to his mouth. “Dimitri, we’re coming up empty. Which structures still need checking?”

  “We’ve gone to all those inside the reclaimed area, but there are at least a thousand structures in the jungle that haven’t been uncovered yet. She could be in any of those. The locations are on your GPS, but there’s no way we can search them all in time.”

  “It can’t be too far away,” I put in. “Justine will make sure she’s not in danger, but she won’t want to miss all the fun.”

  “She’ll also have to be close enough to keep her shooter hidden until the last moment.”

  “Uh, excuse me,” Keene’s voice crackled. “Just to let you all know that I’ve arrived with the senator. He’s enlisted the local authorities, but they won’t be much use against a mad man with an assault weapon.”

  “Stay with him,” Ritter said.

  “Yes, sir.” There was a slight mockery in the words.

  “We’ll have to separate,” I told Ritter.

  “Keep your mic on, then.” He hesitated, and for a moment the thing between us was there, alive and eager. “Be careful.”

  “You, too.”

  He turned and ran into the trees.

  I followed my GPS to the structure nearest us, sending out my thoughts to see if I could feel any life forces. Nothing. Still, I ran up the stairs to check for signs of their equipment, but there were only ruins inside a collapsed center. Nothing we needed, so I marked it off on the list of places and continued on. The next building was similar, and I pushed deeper into the jungle, probing with my mind. A dull throb filled the base of my skull.

  At the third ruin, I hit pay dirt. One life force. Dark, so the person was shielding. My pulse picked up. It was a smallish structure, covered completely by vines and brush, but the roof was intact and the tall, thick columns holding it managed to let in light despite the thick foliage. It reminded me of a huge gazebo made of crumbling stone.

  “Got something,” I said. “One person at my current location. Not in view yet. Checking it out now.”

  No one was inside, and that puzzled me because I could feel the life force close. I scanned the area carefully, wondering if they’d managed to breed back the gift of invisibility, or if they’d managed to create a material that rendered the wearer invisible. Cort had been working on such a thing for years, and while he was sure he’d eventually succeed, so far he could make only small, stationary objects invisible—or at least appear invisible as the surrounding light bent around them.

  Then I spied the stone staircase. Great. This gazebo had a second floor, or had at one time. Maybe it had been some sort of ancient restaurant with open-air seating on the roof. Either way, I didn’t want to climb those stairs. But I had to. Before I could change my mind, I started up, taking two stairs at a time, slowing as debris from the eroding stone became thicker at the halfway point. I didn’t want to alert whoever was up there.

  A stone archway marked the top of the stairs, and I slowed further, pressing my body against the wall. From what I could see the second floor had once been walled in, but those walls now lay in ruins, which was why I hadn’t noticed the second floor from below. Clenching my jaw, I edged closer to the arch and peered around.

  There she was. Only feet away from the steep drop to the jungle floor, Justine knelt on a tarp next to a laptop, two rifles, and Tom’s black bag from the hotel. My stolen machete stuck into an opening between the huge floor stones. Next to it was a bottle of red wine, and a half-eaten loaf of bread lay nearby on a folded tablecloth.

  I stepped out into the open, my gun sighting her. “Hello, Justine.” My stomach flip-flopped as my acrophobia crashed down on me. The weight stole my breath and threatened to crush my chest.

  Her hand stilled, poised over the computer. I didn’t see the thumb drive that had held the research, but I’d seen them transfer it to the laptop earlier, and Stella could use it to retrieve the cure information.

  “Don’t move,” I ordered.

  “You’re too late, Erin. The celebration is beginning. Though if you hurry now, you might be able to save a few children.”

  “Where’s Benito?”

  “With Edgel. There’s no way you can stop it now. The drug is in his system.” Her hand dropped to the computer keyboard.

  I staggered forward, and the weight of the sky felt like a thousand tons. Each step was like pushing through heavy mud. My stomach lurched sickeningly. I wanted sink to the rock and throw my hands over my head. One foot in front of the other. Keep going. After what seemed an eternity, I reached Justine and kicked the laptop away from her.

  She laughed. “Always too late, Erin. You’ll never get that research back.”

  The screen now showed a list of rapidly vanishing files. I pointed the gun at Justine. “Stop it now!” I hated the
desperation in my voice. I didn’t want to need anything from her.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’ll shoot.” I wanted to pull the trigger so badly, I was shaking. I’d have done it already if I didn’t want to save Bronson. Or maybe I was waiting until I could see again. And breathe.

  Justine laughed again. “Poor, poor Erin. It’s the height thing, isn’t it? Why do you think I chose this place? I was worried that you might find me—you’ve become quite resourceful lately. But so much for that, eh?”

  I pushed back my fear into a corner of my mind, locking it into a little black box I imagined there. I can do this. I’ve prepared for this. Making my expression hard, I took three solid steps toward her, my stomach barely quivering. “Listen closely, Justine. Give me the research now, or I will shoot you. And then I’ll kill you for good.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  I turned at the new voice. Tom. He’d appeared at the top of the stairs behind me, breathing hard, a pistol in his hand. He wore an expensive black suit as if he were about to leave for the office.

  “Put down the gun, Erin.”

  I’D BEEN SO INTENT ON fighting my fear of heights that I had forgotten to stay on the lookout for more life forces. Justine had probably signaled Tom the minute she’d seen me, and our brief chitchat had given him time to return. Worse, the laptop screen had gone completely blank. Did that mean everything was erased? Knowing Justine, the answer was yes.

  None of it mattered. I could get off at least one shot at Justine before Tom pulled his own trigger. I’d have that much at least. She wouldn’t win completely.

  I glanced at Tom and back to Justine. Catching sight of the blue sky and the tops of the jungle trees made me dizzy, and my fear peeked out from the black box. “Walk away, Tom,” I said, holding my aim at Justine.

  He strode toward me. I fired. Once. Twice. Justine screamed and fell backward, but the holes in her blouse didn’t turn red. Too late, I realized that like me she was protected with a vest. She coughed, a hand going to her ribs.

  Tom’s gun jabbed into my neck. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he growled. “She’ll just be that much angrier.” His hand reached for my earbud, dropping it to the stone floor and crushing the tiny mic under the heel of his black dress shoes. My guns and knives were next to go, tossed over the edge into the jungle.

  “Shoot her!” Justine ordered. When Tom hesitated, she arose unsteadily. “Oh, you’re useless. She doesn’t love you. Don’t you understand that? She never will. I don’t blame her either, not with that Renegade in the picture. He’s so much more than you’ll ever be. You’ve always been a disappointment.”

  “Shut up!” Tom’s fingers bit painfully into the flesh of my upper arm.

  I knew Tom would eventually cave in, and I would be in a world of pain, not to mention on my way to the Emporium as a wounded prisoner. Maybe even temporarily dead. But I still had a card to play. “Why don’t you tell him the whole truth, Justine?”

  Justine reached for my gun. “I’ll do it myself.”

  Tom’s hand moved, and he fired into the floor in front of Justine. The bullet ricocheted and hit the arch above the stairs, sending a small shower of stone to the ground. “Tell me what, Justine? What does she mean?” His gun was back at my throat, but his eyes riveted on her.

  “Nothing, dear.” Justine’s voice was soft and she’d begun exuding pheromones. I choked back the need to go to her, to help her any way I could. Unable to hold it in longer, my fear burst from the black box. It was all I could do not to sag against Tom.

  “She’s your mother,” I said, clinging to sanity. Gritting my teeth, I took a deep breath. “She’s been lying to you all your life. Now you have to let me go. I need to save the senator and those kids.”

  Tom stepped away from me, his gun lowering slightly, his eyes fixed on Justine. “Is that true?”

  She tossed her head. “What difference does it make?”

  “You lied. Again.”

  “Oh, Tom, don’t be like that.” She slid toward him. “Honey, everything I’ve ever done has been for you.”

  His head swung back and forth. “No, it’s for you. I’ve always known that. I’m just a means to an end. Don’t think I haven’t seen the pattern in the way things are and what you’ve planned. That is my ability, after all. I should have known it was you who put me in that foster home all those years ago. It’s so clear now. You came to visit me only twice in eighteen years. You said our mother died and that you had no choice.”

  “I didn’t have a choice. What would I do with a baby?” Her hand went up to caress his neck. He didn’t lean into her touch, but he didn’t move away, either.

  Not a good sign. I’d have to make a break for it. Not easy when the sky weighed a million tons. Calm. Just focus. Push it back. I could do it. I had to do it. I slid one foot over the stone, going slowly until I was sure I could make a final leap for the cover offered by the stairwell.

  “Tom, darling,” Justine purred. “I came back. Isn’t that the important thing?”

  “Not really.” Another voice, sounding rough and out of breath. Ritter. Relief flooded me. I knew he and the others had been listening until the instant Tom destroyed my mic, but I had no way of knowing if any of them would make it to me in time.

  Tom turned slowly. “You.” An odd note had entered his voice, one I recognized as belonging to the unbalanced side of him.

  “Put it down,” Ritter said, edging forward. “I can shoot you before you start to aim that gun, but there’s no need for this to get violent. Just call off the attack.”

  “Don’t listen!” Justine stepped to Tom’s side. “He’ll tell you anything. They kidnap our people and brainwash them into hurting the Emporium. You can’t believe anything they say. The only way we’ll leave here is in three pieces.”

  “I said call it off.” Ritter’s eyes glittered as he took moved closer to the pair, the barrel of his rifle pointed at Tom.

  Tom didn’t put down his gun. “It’s too late. But before we shoot it out, there’s something you should know, something Erin’s been keeping from you all this time. Justine was there with our agents that day when your family was killed.”

  “Shut up, you idiot! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Justine launched herself at Tom, but he pushed her away.

  Tom laughed at Ritter’s hardened expression. “She told me all about it in detail—your poor little sister, your parents, the girl you were going to marry.”

  Ritter’s nostrils flared and his white-knuckled grip on his rifle was so tight, I was surprised the metal didn’t shatter. He leapt at Justine, knocking her to the ground, pushing the length of the rifle against her throat. “Is it true?” he grated. “Did you kill my family?” Justine tried to shake her head, but his hold didn’t budge.

  I had to stop this. If he killed her, the rage might swallow him whole. “Stop, Ritter! Don’t do it like this.”

  “Why not?” I didn’t recognize his voice. “She did it to my family.” His eyes left Justine for an instant, finding mine. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why are you protecting her?” Without waiting for an answer, he looked back down at Justine. He leaned into the gun, and she whimpered. “Did my little sister cry?” he asked softly. “Did you laugh when you cut her apart?”

  Tom brought up his pistol, the barrel pointing at Ritter. I started to lunge for it, but a flash from Justine’s mind stopped me. A woman crying out. Not Ritter’s little sister, but the mortal fiancée who had sat by Ritter’s bedside during his recovery. I saw Justine’s sword slice into her. She’d been helpless, confused, weak—and Justine had happily taken her life. My stomach churned acid.

  Tom fired and the force of the bullet rammed into Ritter, knocking him off Justine. The image from Justine’s mind vanished, freeing me. I jumped at Tom before he could fire again. He’d hit Ritter in the back, the brunt of the bullet absorbed by his vest, but I didn’t want to risk another shot. We tumbled to the hard floor, knocking over the half-full bottl
e of wine. Red leaked over the pale gray stones.

  Justine was reaching for one of the rifles, but she didn’t fire at me or Ritter. She aimed at Tom. Ritter was already rising, murder on his face. Swooping up the machete, I launched myself between them, swinging with all my force. At the woman who’d killed my sister-in-law and who would have used me in her attempt to take control of the Emporium. At the woman who had caused a man I was beginning to love so much pain. A woman who’d murdered so, so many. But also at the woman who’d given me a reason to live after my failure in law school. A woman who’d been my friend. Who’d helped me find Tom and what I’d thought was love.

  The machete hit its target and Justine crumpled, her head half severed from her body. More red, deeper this time, gushed over the thirsty stones. Her blank eyes and horrified expression stared up at me.

  “Do you want to finish it?” I yelled, thrusting the machete under Ritter’s nose. He’d drawn his sword and was already lifting it. “Is that what you want? You’d finally have your revenge. Your whole life has been about this moment, hasn’t it? That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you about Justine. You can’t live for revenge. That’s no kind of a life. So, tough. I’m not going to let you kill her. I’ll do it myself.” The rest of her head would be easy to detach, but I had no idea how I’d make the machete go through her body in order to sever the final focus points. I only knew that Ritter had suffered enough. If I didn’t do it, he would, and maybe I would lose him forever.

  “No.” Ritter’s hand whipped out and caught mine. We stared at each other, both of us clutching our weapons and each other. I didn’t know if I was right to ask him to choose me over revenge. Maybe I’d never know. It didn’t matter. I cared about him too much to make a permanent mistake.

  The fury drained from his face, and his sword clattered to the stone. I let go of the machete, sagging against him. I hated Justine for what she’d done, but I didn’t want this to be personal. I didn’t want her death to come between me and Ritter. I wanted her taken to the prison compound where she could stand trial for her murders—and I didn’t want to be anywhere nearby when that happened.