The Praegressus Project: Part One

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The Praegressus Project: Part One Page 44

by Aaron Hodges


  “Who are you to talk of our husbands’ sacrifice?” she asked, her voice firm, “Who are you to ask what they would think of us?”

  For a second, the Directors mask slipped, and Sam saw the fury in her eyes. “I am the Director of Domestic Affairs, second only to-”

  “You are a liar and a murderer,” the woman interrupted the Directors words. She spread her arms to indicate the women behind her. “We are the Western Allied States. We are what our husbands fought for, what they gave their lives for.”

  The Director was shaking her head again. “This cannot continue,” she said, pursing her lips, “Disperse, now. Or you will force me to act.”

  A smile flickered across the old woman’s face as she crossed her arms. “We aren’t going anywhere. Touch us if you dare.”

  “So be it,” the Director snapped, “Men, take these women into custody.”

  “No!” Sam spun as Chris shouted behind him.

  Before anyone could react, Chris charged forward. Sam lunged after him, trying to drag him back, but Chris was already tearing off his jacket. His tawny brown wings snapped open, and in a single bound he was airborne. The crack of his wings echoed across the square as he raced towards the Mad Women.

  “Chris!” Sam swore as Liz leapt past him and raced after Chris.

  “About time,” Jasmine charged past with a wild grin on her face.

  Sam watched, helpless as the two girls followed Chris into the air. His mouth hanging open, Sam turned to look at the others. Jonathan, Ashley and Mira stared back at him, each wearing a mixture of shock, fear and amusement on their faces.

  Eyebrows raised, Sam shook his head and looked at Mira. “Is this just something we do now?”

  Grinning, Mira walked past him, her grey wings already starting to beat the air.

  “Let’s make them hurt.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “Goddammit, Chris!” Liz shrieked as she lifted off from the courtyard.

  But Chris didn’t look back. His wings glinted as they beat down, lifting him out of reach. The thump of feathers striking the air was barely audible over the thud of marching boots. The soldiers spread out across the square below, moving to surround the Mad Women. But as they looked up and saw Chris, they stumbled to a stop again.

  Even from two hundred feet away, Liz could see their confusion. The onlookers gasped and the Mad Women shrank back as Chris’s shadow fell across them. They retreated towards the obelisk, their composure broken by the appearance of the government’s new weapons.

  Liz smiled as her black-feathered wings carried her higher. In their eagerness to unveil the success of the Praegressus Project, the government had unwittingly given them an advantage. Those below only had eyes for their wings – not even the soldiers seemed to have realised who they were. In that moment they weren’t terrorists, they were allies of the government, come to bring peace to the Western Allied States.

  Only the Director knew the truth. She was already retreating through the ranks of soldiers, waving frantically at the sky and screaming as she went. But her orders only added to the confusion of the men around her. The front ranks had already reached the Mad Women, while the rear were caught looking from the Director to Chris in bewilderment.

  Before the woman could restore order, Chris folded his wings, and plummeted towards the soldiers.

  Finally seeing the danger, the men around the Director struggled to bring their rifles to bear. But they had obviously not been expecting the old women to put up a fight, and most still had their weapons slung over their backs. Before they could ready them, Chris slammed through their ranks like a wrecking ball.

  The wind shrieked in Liz’s ears as she beat her wings harder. Half a dozen men had fallen in Chris’s initial attack, felled by flailing wings and fists. But they were only glancing blows, and most were already regaining their feet. Behind Chris, the old women were trying to retreat, but they were hemmed in by the obelisk and the crowd of onlookers, who were pressing closer, eager for a glimpse of the winged teenagers.

  Liz heard the crack of another pair of wings and glanced across as Jasmine drew level with her. Below, Chris was a blur of movement. He seemed to be keeping half the soldiers preoccupied, but beyond him, the men around the Director had dropped to their knees and were lifting their rifles.

  “Dive!” she screamed as the first bullet screeched past.

  As one, the two girls tucked in their wings. Chris and the soldiers were still too far away, but the sky was no longer safe, and Liz shrieked a warning to those below as she shot towards the ground. At the last second she snapped open her wings, lurching painfully in the air, and then slammed down hard into the tiles.

  Cracks spread through the granite as Jasmine landed beside her. The Mad Women scrambled back as Liz and Jasmine straightened. Their eyes were wide with fear, but Liz resisted the urge to reassure them. There was no time.

  Turning, she searched for Chris, but he had disappeared behind the crowd. Cursing under her breath, she pulled her wings tight against her back and started in the direction of the soldiers. The crowd parted before her, all too eager to get out of her way.

  A soldier appeared ahead of her, and heart pounding in her chest, Liz charged. The man was standing over the prone body of an old women, a pair of handcuffs in one hand. He looked up as Liz closed on him, but he had no time to react before her fist slammed into his chest. Pain shot through her knuckles as they connected with the body armour beneath his uniform, but it did little to soften her blow. The man’s face went white as he collapsed.

  “Nice work,” Jasmine grinned as she leapt past, already aiming for another soldier standing nearby.

  They had reached the front of the centre of the conflict now, where the soldiers were clashing with the Mad Women. Liz glimpsed more men standing over prone bodies, and anger flared in her chest. Whatever Chris’s reasons were for charging in so recklessly, he was right about one thing. They couldn’t stand by and let the government crush the helpless women.

  She jumped as a second soldier came at her, twisting to slam the heel of her boot into his face. The man’s head whipped back with a sickening crack and he toppled over without a sound. Liz strode over his body without hesitating, still scanning the ranks of soldiers for Chris.

  Ahead, Jasmine bore down on another soldier. The man saw her coming and wisely tried to flee, but Jasmine caught him by the arm and hauled him back. Screeching like a harpy, she spun, and hurled the soldier face first into one of his comrades. Jasmine didn’t wait to see whether either recovered. Wings still unfurled, she spun in search of another victim.

  In such close quarters, the soldiers were struggling to bring their rifles to bear. Without them, the men were almost helpless against their altered physiology. Liz and Jasmine moved faster than thought, able to see danger and react before the soldiers could even lift their rifles. It also didn’t hurt that some of the enemy still seemed confused about whose side Liz and the others were on.

  A soldier with a steel baton leapt at Liz, but as she turned to meet him he hesitated, his eyes flickering from her wings to her face. Then his eyes widened with recognition, and roaring, he continued his charge.

  Liz batted away his attack with a casual swing of her arm, and then slammed the palm of her hand into his abdomen. He staggered and fell to one knee. As he tried to regain his feet, she drove her elbow down on the back of his head, and sent him crashing to the pavement.

  Spinning, she looked for Chris again, and caught a glimpse of his tawny wings through the press of soldiers. Before she could move towards him, Sam and Mira crashed down beside her. They nodded at her and she pointed in the direction in which she’d seen Chris go.

  Before they could start after him, gunfire erupted from their right. Fire sliced across her arm as something grazed her skin, and swearing she dove to the side. She struck the pavement hard and started to roll as the rifles roared again. Stone chips sliced her face as the bullets thumped into the ground around her, then she was up and
leaping into the air. Her wings beat down, carrying her over a body on the ground. Then the men who had started firing were right in front of her, and she slammed into their midst with uncontrolled fury.

  One man went down, his neck shattered by a swift blow from her boot, and then Jasmine was beside her. Wearing a savage scowl, she tore the gun from the hands of a soldier and swung it like a club at the man’s head. Blood sprayed across Jasmine’s face as it struck, and the man went down screaming.

  Cries came from behind them as Jasmine struck down the last gunman. Glancing back, Liz glimpsed blood on the granite tiles. Her stomach wrenched. The soldiers had fired indiscriminately into the crowd, and several of the Mad Women had been caught in the crossfire. They lay deathly still in the shadow of the obelisk.

  Sam stumbled between the bodies towards them. Mira lay limp in his arms, her grey wings wrapped around her body, and his own face was pale as a ghost. Liz’s eyes travelled down, and saw the blood soaking through his trousers. Her heart lurched and she stepped forward and caught him as his leg gave way.

  “Exciting life you guys live,” he grated as she held him up.

  “Is she okay?” Liz asked, glancing down at Mira. The girl’s eyes were closed, but her wings hid any sign of injury. Then she looked around, her chest constricting in sudden panic. “Where’s Ashley?”

  Sam’s forehead creased as he looked around. “I thought she was right behind us,” he bit his lip and look at Mira, “Mira’s okay, I think. She’s still breathing.”

  Nodding, Liz spun, scanning the crowd for Ashley, but there was no sign of the red-headed girl. Chris had also disappeared into the chaos that had swept across Independence square. The courtyard had turned to pure chaos now. Bystanders stumbled through the throng of Mad Women, some attempting to flee while others sought the supposed safety of the soldiers. The chatter of gunfire echoed off the surrounding trees, sending people diving to the ground.

  The Mad Women themselves were trying to regroup around their fallen members. They stood together, arms locked to protect those who had been injured by the soldier’s bullets. Liz’s heart swelled at the sight, but beyond she could see the soldiers regrouping too. The Director was waving her arms, giving new orders, and already the men were turning in their direction. There were still too many for them to fight - especially with Sam and Mira injured, and Ashley missing.

  “Ah… is that normal?” Sam asked behind her.

  Looking around, Liz followed the direction of Sam’s gaze. A group of soldiers had surrounded Jasmine, but she didn’t seem too bothered about the situation. Her black wings snapped out as the soldiers pointed their rifles, and faster than thought she was among them. A man screamed as she caught him by the throat. The scream ended abruptly as his blood sprayed the air. Another man went down as Jasmine drove her foot into his knee, snapping the bone like plywood.

  Even Liz struggled to track Jasmine’s movements as she tore through the men like butter. They staggered back before her, some even turning to flee, but none escaped. A low growl rumbled from Jasmine’s throat as she felled the last man, and spun in search of her next victim. Her eyes settled on a nearby woman, and she started towards her.

  “Jasmine!” Liz shrieked.

  Jasmine didn’t respond, but she paused midstride and turned towards them. Liz’s heart lurched in her chest as she found herself staring into the hard-grey eyes of the Chead. A deep, guttural growl came from Jasmine’s throat as her lips drew back in a snarl. The hackles on the Liz’s neck stood on end and feathers bristling, she placed herself between Jasmine and Sam.

  “Jasmine, stop!” Liz screamed as the girl stepped towards them. “Don’t do this!”

  CHAPTER 12

  A dull grin spread across Jasmine’s lips as she crooked her head. Liz swallowed a scream as the grey eyes studied her with detached curiosity. Glancing back at Sam, their eyes met. He nodded at her and climbing to his feet, started to move away.

  Liz turned back just in time for Jasmine’s fist to connect with her face. She reeled backwards as stars flashed across her vision, and only the instinctive beat of her wings kept her upright. Snarling, Jasmine came at her again, and Liz groaned as a boot slammed into her chest. Air exploded between her teeth and she bent in two, struggling to breathe.

  Sensing the need to move, she dove to the side as Jasmine attacked again. The girl stumbled past, and Liz’s wing flashed out to catch her in the face. The blow threw Jasmine off balance, giving Liz time to recover. Straightening, she watched as the taller girl began to circle her. A cold fury lit in Liz’s chest, but she pressed it down, fearful of what might happen if she unleashed it. The last thing they needed was two Chead on the loose.

  She leapt as Jasmine came at her again, her boot lashing out for the other girl’s hip. But Jasmine was quicker still, and spinning, she swept up an arm to catch Liz by the leg.

  Liz screamed as Jasmine lifted her up and then hurled her bodily into the crowd. She crashed into the Mad Women and went down in a pile of tangled bodies. Fear prickled Liz’s neck as she struggled to stand while trying not to let her skin touch the civilians. Before she could free herself, a hand reached down and grasped her by the shirt.

  Her stomach lurched as Jasmine jerked her up. Raising her arms in front of her face, Liz managed to block the first punch, before the second caught her square in the forehead. Her head snapped back, her neck jarring from the force of the blow. Before Jasmine could land a third, Liz twisted in her grip, and bunching up her legs, drove them straight into the taller girl’s chest.

  The kick broke Jasmine’s grip and propelled Liz backwards through the air. Beating down hard with her wings, Liz steadied herself in the air and then dropped lightly to the ground.

  She straightened as Jasmine gave a high-pitched screech. The other girl hurtled at her, her fingers clenched like claws, her teeth glinting in the morning sun. Liz leapt to meet her, and they came together in a clash of fists and feathers. For a second, Liz managed to fend her off. But Jasmine was no longer herself. The rage behind her grey eyes fed her strength, and Liz could not match it. A blow caught her in the chest, then the head, and suddenly she found herself on her knees.

  Gasping, Liz rolled to the side as Jasmine slammed her foot into the tiles where she’d been kneeling. A shriek of frustration chased after her, and Liz struggled to regain her feet. But her vision swam and energy fled her tired limbs. She slumped against the cold stone.

  Jasmine stepped towards her, a grin spreading across her face. Liz looked up as the other girl raised her fist, and without thinking she reached up to catch the blow. The force of the punch rocked Liz backwards, but she wrapped her hands around Jasmine’s fist and held on tight.

  Baring her teeth, Jasmine snarled and struggled to free herself from Liz’s grip. Silently, Liz began to count as Jasmine raised her other arm, praying for the Nematocytes to take effect. How long had it taken for Chris to feel their bite?

  Sparks flew across Liz’s vision as Jasmine’s fist slammed into her unprotected face, but still she did not release the other girl. But as the second blow struck, all her strength seemed to fade away, and Jasmine roared as she tore herself free.

  Liz slumped back against the cold stone, darkness swirling at the edges of her vision. Jasmine stood over her. Snarling, she lifted her boot. Then she paused, and a flicker passed across her face. Her eyes widened, and for a second the grey seemed to flicker. And suddenly she was screaming and staggering back, tearing desperately at the arm Liz had held.

  Then Chris stepped up behind Jasmine, and drove his clenched fists down on the back of her head. She collapsed without a sound, and reaching out, Chris caught her beneath one arm. Hauling her onto his shoulder, he looked down at Liz.

  “You okay?” he asked, his brow creased.

  Liz blinked, her vision still swirling, and shook her head. The movement made her stomach wrench, and rolling onto her side, she threw up the measly remains of her breakfast. She sensed Chris beside her and felt his hand on he
r back. Looking up from her knees, she caught a glimpse of the Director. She and the remaining soldiers were marching towards them, pushing their way through the remnants of the crowd.

  Groaning, Liz forced herself to her knees, then her feet. She staggered slightly, and Chris struggled to help her with Jasmine still slumped over his shoulder.

  “Where are the others?” she croaked.

  Chris nodded behind her, and turning she saw Sam standing near the remaining Mad Women. Ashley had reappeared beside him, and now carried the unconscious Mira in her arms. There was no sign of Jonathan, but Liz guessed he had probably fled in the chaos. Together, Liz and Chris stumbled across to join them.

  “That’s everyone,” Sam commented, his voice strained. He nodded in the direction of the approaching Director. “Now what?”

  Looking back, Liz swallowed as she saw the soldiers converging on them. Some were already lifting their rifles, and from this distance they couldn’t miss. They glanced at the Director, awaiting her orders. Liz gritted her teeth and closed her eyes as the woman raised her arm.

  But instead of the roar of gunfire, the patter of soft shoes on stone followed. Opening her eyes, Liz gaped as the Mad Women moved between them and the soldiers. Unbent, undaunted by the burly men and their guns, they stood in the line of fire, and shielded Liz and the others with their bodies.

  A shout carried through the crowd as the Director demanded they stand aside, but the Mad Women didn’t move. A moment later a woman screamed as the soldiers started to force their way through, but to Liz’s relief, no more shots were fired.

  “Come, they can’t hold them for long,” a woman’s voice came from beside them.

  Liz turned as an old woman stepped up to them. She blinked, realising it was the same woman who had defied the Director earlier. How she had evaded the first wave of soldiers, Liz couldn’t guess, but all she could do was nod as the woman sheparded them around the obelisk. Together they sprinted across the square and ducked into the shelter of the trees.

 

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