A Hero Rising

by Aubrie Dionne

  Chapter Three

  Meteor

  James raced through the grimy blackness of the subway, checking his wristband every five seconds and cursing the unforgiving tick of time.

  Just wait until a moonshiner gets in my way now.

  He ran with his laser ready to fire, and knew exactly where to aim. Every step brought back another memory: the first time he saw Mestasis crouched behind machinery, holding a small kitten. Her skin shone so dark she blended in with the shadows. The whites of her eyes had given her away, bright as the moon before the mining began. Bright and hopeful, not like anything else ever gracing the lower levels. He remembered their first kiss in the coffee shop, an electric charge sweeping through him, making everyone else disappear. And he remembered the lights breaking into shards with her powers, scaring away Razornecks so they could escape.

  He’d saved her life, and she’d saved his in return. A bond thicker than anything he could ever imagine. She was special, and he hated how he had to use her abilities to help his people, to further his own cause. It was only when his cause became her own, and he realized she’d be safer on that ship than on Earth, that he allowed destiny to take its course, a course that would ultimately usher her away from him.

  He emerged into the smog of day and peered up to see if the Expedition had taken off, but the pollution was too thick to spot anything in the sky. He jumped into the nearest open window and climbed until the stairs took him to the first working elevator. At this point, he didn’t dare look at the time.

  The elevator couldn’t move quickly enough for him. He pressed her floor and watched as the numbers accumulated and he entered the levels for the New York branch of the Telepathic Institute of New England, or TINE. Usually the doors were heavily guarded, but Mestasis had won seats on the Expedition for everyone at TINE, so the corridor leading to her room was as silent as a city after a nuke attack.

  The door to her room lay open, and he ran in shouting her name. All cabinets, all walls were stripped bare. He ran to the room where he’d woken up that morning. Empty.

  He ran his hands over the silken sheets. A black hole formed in his chest, sucking his breath away. Mestasis was gone. Maybe it was better he’d left when he did, because he wasn’t sure he could have let her go if he had the chance again.

  An explosion pounded in his gut, shaking the walls around him. Was it the assassination attempt, or had the Expedition just take off?

  James ran to the elevator and slammed the roof button over and over until his palm hurt. The panel beeped and the doors parted. A female voice chimed: You’ve reached level seventy-eight.

  TINE’s building wasn’t the tallest skyscraper in New York, but it was high enough to break through the smog. Smoke blackened the sky in the north end, the plumes spreading like a mushroom cloud over the city. The attack must have happened hours ago. Which meant he’d heard the engines of the Expedition. Sure enough, an orange and gray streak stained the sky above the pluming black clouds. James ran along the length of the roof, shouting Mestasis’s name.

  The ship resembled a reverse meteor, rising from the horizon into the russet-stained sky. Meteors destroyed life, but this flaming ball carried life with it. Thousands of people rode to a paradise planet, transporting the hope of a renewed civilization. James watched the arc with steady eyes, reluctant to look away.

  Mestasis.

  He whispered her name like a prayer uttered before sleep. His heart ached and he wondered if it would stop beating altogether as the chord binding their souls stretched farther and farther apart.

  I’ll never see her again.

  The finality of the thought filled him with dread, yet he knew he’d made the best decision for both of them. Of all his concerns, the most prevalent was her safety, and she would live longer and more comfortably on that ship than anyone here on Earth.

  His finger rose to the sky, tracing the arc to touch the Expedition one last time. The ship had grown so small; he could cover it with the tip of his finger, the finger that had trailed circles on her neck only hours ago.

  It’s best this way.

  If Thadious Legacy’s DNA tests had granted James a ticket, he’d never have been able to live with himself, knowing he left everyone “not deemed suitable” behind to die on a planet with a one-way ticket to hell. He shouldn’t have grown so attached to Mestasis, but she’d caught him off guard from the first day he saw her in the lower levels, wearing her pristine uniform of the Telepathic Institute of New England, risking everything to save the life of a kitten.

  If I’d made it on the ship, would we have married?

  Another second passed, and the glinting silver speck winked out. Ignoring the hole aching inside him, James pulled himself up, collected his backpack, and descended to the lower levels. Night—or what was left of it—approached quickly. Thanks to Mestasis, he had secured three hundred of his people a place aboard that ship.

  Now he needed to tend to the rest.

  Chapter Four

  Break In

  Carly shook a box of soycaroni. “I’m hungry.”

  “Go back to your room.” Half hearing her, Skye crouched on the floor of the apartment, hugging her knees with both arms. Footage of the assassination attempt flashed on the wall, replaying over and over like a movie with a bad ending.

  The newscaster, a young man with a crew cut and a perfect dent in his chin, spoke with a careless, monotone voice. “Although Governor Grier survived the attack, her two children and her husband are still missing. Several members of the Razorneck gang are credited with the assassination attempt, and”—he actually smiled—“I’m hearing reports that none, I repeat, none of the gang members survived.”

  Razornecks lay dead from burns or laser wounds. Fire crews struggled to control the blazing heaps of desks and broken wallscreens, and newscasters shouted over the hissing flames. So much death, and no sign of Grease.

  “Don’t worry, Skye. Daddy got away,” Carly said.

  That got her attention.

  Skye tore her gaze from the holoscreen. Carly stood sucking on a large plastic spoon. She sounded so certain. Was it denial?

  Skye sighed, taking the box from her. “Okay, I’ll make dinner.” How could she tell her that if Grease hadn’t come home by now, he must be dead? The government wasn’t taking prisoners.

  But the world had to go on. Dinner needed to be made. It was about time she got up and faced reality. Skye left the screen on and dragged herself into the kitchen. She pressed the panel on the stove and the burner heated up.

  An expiration date six months past was stamped on the back of the box. She opened the cabinets and found a few soy wafers, old rice patties, and a bottle of gelatinous ketchup. Why couldn’t Grease bring home more food and less moonshine?

  Figuring expired soycaroni was better than nothing, Skye filled a pot with water, making sure to use only enough to soften the soycaroni, and watched it rumble to a boil. Soon she’d have to search for food the only way she knew how: pilfering the garbage heaps in the alleys every morning when the higher-ups threw down what they didn’t want. The thought of it made the soycaroni seem like five-star-restaurant fare.

  The holoscreen flickered from the other room, and Skye wondered if it had dimmed forever. She had found it in a recycling chute a year back, so any picture they received was a miracle.

  After stirring the water, she ducked into the living room. A primly dressed reporter with blond bombshell curls and wearing a pink pencil skirt spoke into a microphone in the darkness. A rusty subway train loomed behind her.

  What would a high-rise person be doing in the underground? Skye had never even gone down that far.

  “We interrupt this program to bring you a breaking newscast. Crazed vagrants believed to be moonshiners have broken into the city using the old sewage drainpipes. They’re crawling up to the lower levels and attacking anyone who gets in their way. Recovering after the assassination attempt on her life, Governor Grier has issued an advisory asking everyone
on Levels One through Twenty to stay in their homes and lock their doors.”

  Skye froze, watching as the camera turned to guards with gallium lasers blasting a darting shadow in the distance. It moved too fast to be a normal person, careering off walls like a monkey, and Skye wondered if the stories she’d heard about the moonshiners were true.

  “The water’s boiling!” Carly’s voice startled her, and she whipped around, feeling as though she were stuck in some nightmare and would soon wake up beside Grease’s ruddy face, safe and protected.

  Skye scrambled over to the empty food cabinet. She braced herself against the frame and started to push. The cabinet creaked as it moved, revealing a pile of dust and rat excrement underneath.

  Carly yelled behind her, “What about the soycaroni? What are you doing?”

  “Keeping us safe.” She shoved the cabinet directly against the front door. If Grease came back, he wouldn’t be able to get in, but after seeing that man on TV fly through the sewers, she couldn’t take a chance.

  “Carly, help me find more things to pile against the door.” The couch was too big for her to lift, but the mattresses on the floor would add more weight behind the barricade. She ran into the family room. Pillows fell as she picked up the mattress they all slept on.

  Carly threw everything she could lift against the door, including Jennifer. The doll hit the plastic and slumped down on the floor. “Is that good?”

  “Yes, Carls. Great job. Jennifer can be the lookout.” The heat rose in their tiny apartment. Skye swiped sweat off her forehead, realizing she’d left the water boiling. Returning to the stove, she tore open the box and poured in the soycaroni. The routine of watching the geometric shapes turn in the water made the situation feel normal again, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Maybe she’d overreacted. The newscasters always seemed to make more out of a single incident. Their apartment was on the third floor, levels up from the tunnels.

  “I’m sorry I scared you.” She gestured for the girl to come closer. “You know I get jumpy with your daddy not around.”

  “It’s okay.” Just as Carly came over and wrapped her arms around Skye’s waist, a scream rose up from the lower levels outside their balcony.

  Skye picked up Carly and hurried out the back door, then peered over the balcony railing. A blur of movement scurried down the alley, throwing up trash. A can scuttled against the building, sending a pigeon flapping into the air. Two people dashed from the window underneath them to the adjacent building.

  “Are those the people they were talking about on TV?” Carly’s fingers tightened around Skye’s neck.

  “Probably just scavengers or gang members.” Skye leaned over to get a better look, but the alley rats had disappeared.

  Light, cruel laughter wafted up, the sound reminding Skye of an upper-level heiress teasing her servant. An arm darted out of a lower window and squirmed as if feeling around for a way out. The arm twitched and bent backward, making Skye’s stomach tighten. Dirty fingers grabbed a piece of trash, and then disappeared back inside. A woman shouted from another level, and Skye heard the pulsing sound of lasers echo against the buildings.

  “Come on. Let’s go back inside.” She’d seen enough to know they should lay low. Pulling the balcony door closed, she locked it with the dead bolt.

  The reek of burned soycaroni filled the apartment, and Skye plopped Carly down on the couch and rushed to the stove. The water had evaporated and the soycaroni solidified against the bottom, turning to blackened sludge.

  “Dammit.” Skye had wasted their only box of food.

  That was the least of their problems, though. She stiffened as she realized black smoke was leaking out the crack in the top of the front door.

  “No, no, no.” Skye fanned the smoke and reopened the balcony door. She grabbed the pot handle and burned her fingers, whipping back her hand.

  “Be careful!” Carly stood on the couch watching what Skye was doing.

  “I am being careful.” She slipped her hand into a ripped oven glove and carried the pot to the balcony, throwing it over the ledge to the garbage below.

  “That was our dinner!” Carly wailed.

  She didn’t have time to answer. Something thumped against the front door, rattling the cabinet and knocking the mattress down. Dust plumed from the crack between the door and the floor. Skye froze, fear eating away at her composure. This can’t be happening.

  Another thump. The plastic door cracked under the weight.

  Carly screamed.

  The cabinet wouldn’t hold the door in place for long. Skye dug around the piles of junk, searching for weapons, but Grease had taken them all with him.

  Selfish bastard. Anger spread through her. Not only had Grease taken their only chance to defend themselves, he’d left them utterly alone. Skye trembled as she realized she was the only person she could be truly angry with. She’d let him go.

  I could use those passes now.

  Backing up to the family room, she took Carly’s hand and led her out onto the balcony. The cabinet crashed to the floor as she pulled the balcony’s glass door closed in front of the girl. Carly’s horrified look made Skye’s heart clamp. She mouthed, “Stay there,” and searched for anything she could find to fend off the intruder. As something rattled in the kitchen, Skye dug through the heaps of garbage in the living room. That pot would have come in handy right now. As she pulled up rags and broken plastic containers, she vowed to be cleverer. How else would she ever be a good mother?

  A strange keening noise rose from the other room and an old woman wearing a pale floral skirt and a yellow apron came around the corner. Her hair was neatly tied in a bun, but thick, black veins protruded from her arms and legs like worms. And her eyes didn’t seem right—a little too big and too slanted, almost almond-shaped. Those eyes zeroed in on Skye and a wicked grin showed black, pointed teeth.

  What’s wrong with this lady? Is she a moonshiner?

  The woman moved much too quickly for her age, pushing against the walls as she scrambled toward Skye. Skye backed up against the wallscreen. The pretty reporter hovered over her left shoulder, now talking about a soap ad.

  This is it. Find something to throw or you’re dead.

  Skye whirled around and pulled the wallscreen out of its mount, wires sizzling as they detached. She threw it at the old woman, and the moonshiner flew back against the wall under its weight.

  Only her black veined legs stuck out from under the broken screen, twitching with pumping blood. Skye breathed a sigh of relief, trying not to look. She moved toward the balcony when the screen moved and the woman stood up, teeth gnashing together as her broken bones popped back into place.

  Skye had heard enough about moonshiners to know she wouldn’t win in a hand-to-hand fight. Morpheus made them too fast, and it was hard to kill something already believed to be dead.

  Skye lunged for the balcony, swung the glass door open, and shut it behind her. The old woman pushed up against the glass. Her black tongue left a streak of condensation. Skye pushed Carly back. “Don’t make a sound.”

  Tears ran down Carly’s cheeks, but the little girl had enough sense to remain silent.

  “We’ll wait here and maybe she’ll go away,” Skye whispered in her ear. Although it didn’t look like that old woman would go anywhere with them as a lure.

  Carly nodded, and her bravery impressed Skye. If a little girl can hold up, so can I. They moved to the corner of the balcony and crouched low, holding onto each other.

  “What if she doesn’t go away?” Carly whispered. “What if she finds a way to unlock the door?”

  “Then I’ll fight her off as you run back inside.”

  Carly sniffed and let out a pitiful sob. “But, you’ll die.”

  Skye swallowed, feeling like this was the end of the road. What would Carly do without her? She had no one else. Skye was her guardian now.

  The glass door shattered as the armrest of the couch poked through. A hissing lau
gh wheezed from inside.

  Skye scrambled behind it with Carly. They had nowhere to go. Level Three was too high to jump.

  “Get on my back. Wrap your arms around my neck and hold on. Really tightly.”

  Carly piggybacked on top of her, and Skye climbed over the railing. She lowered them, her legs dangling as she grasped the metal poles in her fingers.

  In one blink, the woman stood on the armrest like a vulture perched on a branch. Her hair had been pulled from her bun, the gray wisps blowing in the wind. Her face turned in their direction as she searched the horizon with impossibly long eyes that reminded Skye of giant black beetles.

  Skye knew if the moonshiner spotted them, she have no choice but to take their chances and let go.

  Chapter Five

  Chosen One

  “You’re going to teach me how to fly a star-liner, a deep space colony ship as big as a city with a video game?” James leaned over Dal’s shoulder as the old man brought up on his miniscreen what looked like a flight simulator program.

  “We’ve tweaked the parameters to correspond to the Destiny’s maneuvering capabilities. You fly hovercrafts all the time, right?”

  “When I can get my hands on one, yes.”

  “Flying is flying.” Dal handed him the screen. “Make sure you take a look at it.”

  James clicked off the monitor to save the energy cell and stuck it in his backpack. They walked to the concrete door, passing by guards on either side. “Right. I’ll play it while I fight off the moonshiners.”

  Dal’s voice hardened. “Flying’s not the hard part.”

  James stopped and turned toward him. “What is the hard part?”

  The old man pursed his lips. “Getting to it.”

  Son of a Razorneck! James realized he’d accepted the mission without even asking about the Destiny’s coordinates. That was typical James—he ignored the odds. That’s why the Radioactive Hand of Justice promoted him in the first place.

  “Where is the Destiny?”