by J. D. Hale
“No,” said a silky smooth voice from the other side, “you listen, Kairee Rose Dunham, I’m the toughest enemy you’ll ever have, your worst nightmare in the flesh.”
“I believe you’re mistaken. I don’t have nightmares, I cause them. I hope someday I’ll be able to cause yours.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll have the delight of meeting me the day you step foot in the Institute. On that day, you won’t walk back out. Pay attention: there are only two ways this can go; either you live or you die. I’ll see you soon, Dunham.”
The line went dead, her voice still ringing in my ears.
“Get out of here, Adena, and never return to Zenda. I’ll give you money and send you on a ship to another planet. I hope Zenda is still listening right now, because she will never know where you are.” I say, pulling out a wad of cash from my pocket – at least a
few million in dollars, but not much in Saizian money. Handing the money to Adena, I said, “Go and become someone else.”
She got up and left as fast as she could. When she reached the bottom of the building, I listened closely to my surroundings.
Voices.
The voice of Dmitri Ivanov, head of the Intergalactic Police Force, rang through the four stories all the way up to my ears. Dmitri and I have had quite the feud between us for many years. I, as the most dangerous person in the galaxy, meant that he, the toughest policeman I’ve ever met, doesn’t exactly get along with me. He’s been hunting me down since I was ten, attempting on twenty different occasions to capture or murder me – most of the time both. He’s more of a simple, though dangerous, enemy, fleshy and middle-aged, and I could probably take him if he didn’t always have the greatest level of firearms with him at all times. Plus, Dmitri often has at least ten men with him, a necessity when he wanted to get to the Dunham twins.
“We have to get out of here guys. Now!” I yelled as I heard the click of semi-automatic rifles locking for fire, “We’re not invincible and they have guns. Mahar, I’ll have you contacted; you can walk downstairs and they won’t pull you. Salah, Rowan, and I will have to get out of here more…creatively. I have a plan. Go now, Mahar. I’ll send a bug.” I pluck out a piece of his dark hair, so the nanobug could track him down later on, “Boys, follow me!” I commanded loudly, setting off the police. They would probably figure that we’d simply waltz into their fire and fight them off in my normal style of flashy combat.
Instead, we would stealthily escape out the skylight.
“You boys better be quick.” I told them.
I stood directly under the edge of the hole. Knowing I could get onto the roof easily, I reached up and grabbed the stones with my hands, holding on with a killer grip. I began to pull myself up, but instead of relying simply on myself, there were two strong hands on my waist. Thinking only Rowan would have the nerve to support me, I looked down to see Salah’s hands on me. I was shocked, but allowed him to boost me up and out of the hole. Once under the blue sky, I knelt down on the gravel-covered roof.
“Take my hand,” I mouthed to Salah, and he did. I hoisted him up, and Rowan began bringing himself to the roof. He could do it by himself, I knew, so I let him struggle. Once he was up, I began running. There were a few five-to-ten foot gaps between the buildings, I assessed before jumping.
The police quickly noticed we were on the top of the building and the onslaught of bullets was hasty. I’ve been shot two hundred times, and it’s not a pleasant experience. The feeling of your flesh being torn open as the sheer momentum of a bullet rips through layers of skin was something I hoped never to feel that again, but it’s preposterous to believe in such frivolous hopes, as I would probably be shot again in the next ten minutes.
“Run!” I yelled again, following my own command. The scenery rushed around me as I pushed my legs to their limit, jumping a huge span. The moment in the air was terrifying, yet thrilling – a host of burly officers pointing guns at me from a fifty foot drop onto solid concrete wasn’t exactly my cup of teas. Though it was in slow motion for me, for them I passed by in a blur and was gone. I landed with a loud crack on the first building. I kept going, and heard Salah and Rowan following quickly behind me, along with Dmitri.
“You can’t hide forever Kairee!” Ivanov yelled, “I will get you eventually! Sooner or later you will be at the dangerous criminals holding center!”
“In your dreams!” I screamed back, attracting too much attention from the people on the ground. The next jump was shorter, so I landed closer to the middle instead of the edge. The next stretch was even smaller and I overestimated it. Right before landing, I realized something fatal that I had missed – the top of this building was eight glass skylights with only a few feet of stone in between. Instead of stopping safely on the stone, as originally anticipated, I shattered through one of the skylights. A bone-crushing scream escaped my lips as I crashed down into a room full of construction objects. Bricks and pipes and glass panels all made harsh contacts with my body at frightening speed. Slamming down on the concrete floor, I felt as if I had turned to jelly. I landed on my stomach and felt three of my ribs crack – two in the back, and one in the front. Pain shot through my leg, setting my veins on fire wherever it hit, possibly a broken femur and another break on my tibia from hitting bricks. Attempting to haul myself up, the windows around me exploded. Hundreds of flying silver projectiles sped through the room, all splaying above my head but ultimately landing around me in a grandiose display of titanium. The dagger case on my back was digging into my skin, creating a bruise that would probably stay for while. Some of the glass landed on me, slicing open portions of the skin on my exposed and broken leg.
I heard Rowan’s light footsteps above me and Salah’s hard footfalls behind those.
Rowan, realizing I wasn’t in front of him, sounded nervous when he yelled.
“Kairee?!” He screamed, dropping down onto his stomach on the ceiling above me in order to avoid the bullets.
I moaned as loud as I could manage without hurting my winded lungs. The pain was rasping around inside of my chest, trying to escape with every breath. Though my ribs were horrible, my ninth rib was almost poking out of my skin and tearing it open, my leg was the worst. It was flaming pain, searing through ripped flesh.
I had to move, had to get away. This was a bad place to be with five broken bones.
Luckily, my brother heard my cry and jumped down the broken skylight, landing solidly on his feet next to me.
“Get down here Salah!” He yelled up, ducking down next to me.
“Kai? Can you hear me?!” He whispered nervously, seeing my fluttering eyelids as I floated in and out of consciousness for a while. I managed, despite it all, to nod.
He let out a relieved sigh. “Listen, are you okay?”
A nod, a lie. If I made Rowan nervous, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything.
“What’s bad?”
I lifted up my throbbing hand, touched my leg and then my ribs, giving across the message as clearly as possible.
“Alright. Can you walk?” He sounded nervous as he asked this, and Salah plopped down behind us.
“Oh my god.”
“Not helpful!” Rowan snapped.
I shook no to Rowan’s question curtly and attempted to sit up; the effort made me woozy and Rowan was suddenly behind me, holding me up.
“We have to get out of here,” I said, gasping.
“I know, I just don’t know how to get you out of here.” He told me, his eyebrows furrowing in thought and frustration.
“Leave me here,” I said, “I can get out by myself.”
“No!” Salah protested, breaking his silence. He turned to me, “You’re our leader. I’ll carry you out myself before leaving you here. In fact…Rowan, grab her arms, I’ll support one of her legs and be careful with the other. We will get her out if it’s the last thing we ever do.”
“And it may be.” Rowan told him seriously, “But I can carry my little sister by myself, thanks,”
>
“I’m older,” I mumbled with effort.
“Whatever you say,” I heard Rowan reply under his breath.
“And boys,” I whisper, gaining back some of my strength. The pain had ebbed a little, though it still felt as if my leg was being sawed off by a hot blade, “Shut up about carrying me. I’ll walk; I just need to lean on one of you.”
For a moment or two, they glared at each other. It was obvious both of them wanted to be my splint, but they would have to argue it out since I didn’t have the strength anymore.
For another painstaking minute, they stood debating silently with each other, slow in deciding despite the obviously deadly situation.
“I’ll do it,” Salah piped up.
“No, you won’t. She’s my sister, I’ll do it.”
“Shut up!” I said as loudly as I could muster, “Salah will help me, he offered first. Stop acting like four year olds fighting over your mother’s attention!”
A plan was already forming in my head.
Rowan glanced at me, and then nodded curtly. He clenched his jaw and grabbed my arm. He pulled me up and then Salah took my other arm as Rowan let go, somewhat hesitantly.
Thank god Salah’s strong – I leaned on him very heavily as we slowly trudged to the bottom of the building, where the police were waiting.
“Salah,” I whispered, quiet enough so Rowan, even with his impeccable hearing, wouldn’t notice, “There’s a vaporizer strapped to my side, under my shirt, it’ll kill all of those police officers, but you’ll have to get us out of there, and fast, okay?”
“All right.” He said, and I felt his hand slip again to my waist, where he lifted my tank-top and loosened the small cube that would expand and become my Rizer. At his touch, I noticed my heart thudding a bit – irrational response to stimulus, just like before.
“Now,” I instructed, limping forward, “There’s a turquoise button glowing on the top – press it and it’ll expand to about the size of your hand. Good. Now, see that red button? Do not press it, that’ll make it fire. I want you to pretend your holding me captive – they want me alive and will do anything to prevent you from killing me. Take me about thirty feet from them, with the gun pointed at my head. Then, flip it out and point it towards Dmitri Ivanov, the tallest one towards the middle. He’s the only one who’s going to know what it is, and he will run. When the rest try to follow suit, you have to shoot them.” I tell him, swaying.
“Okay.” He gulped, and I knew he was uncomfortable with useless murder.
“You have to prove something by doing this. Whether you shoot them or not is your deal breaker: if you do, you prove your loyalty to me, and if you don’t, I know you’re against me and I will instruct Rowan to kill you on the spot.” I told him sullenly.
After three painful staircases, we were at the bottom, ready to open the door.
“Are you okay?” I asked Salah.
He nodded.
“Put on a good show. Rowan! Play along, all right?”
He nodded.
“Act like you’re trying to get Salah to let me go.”
He nods, and Salah pulls out another knife from my back, holding it level with Rowan’s neck.
“Go outside. Now.”
Salah held me to his chest and dragged me outside, the gun at my head. I allowed real terror to sink into my eyes as I scanned the scene. Looking directly into Dmitri’s cold brown eyes, I saw him assess the situation and realization cross his features.
“C’mon, boy,” he beckoned to Salah, “give her to us. There’s twenty of us and one of you – we will win, and you will die.”
“Never!” Salah yelled, “I’ll kill her first! Now back up or I’ll shoot.”
“Listen Captain,” A man said, addressing Dmitri, “our supervisor told us to bring her back alive. She told me her brother was expendable.”
“Of course.” Dmitri replied, “But I wonder what she’ll think if we bring back yet another Salah to her company,” He chuckled.
“My father? What do you know of my father?” Salah yelled, forgetting himself.
“Your father? I know that he was killed by the very girl you’re holding.” Dmitri replied quietly.
Salah feigned shock expertly. This was, of course, common knowledge to the entire universe.
“You’re lying!” Salah jabbed the gun out in their direction, frightening the men who did not know what it was.
“Boys, stay calm,” Dmitri informed them, “if he knows what’s good for him, he won’t shoot. I assume you know what that is, little boy, and you know what’ll happen if you shoot it.”
“Back the hell off!” Salah commanded, and some of them stammered backwards. “Who are you working for?” Salah yelled again.
“Her identity is a secret even to me.” Ivanov lied flawlessly, but I could tell with him. We had met quite a few times in the past – thirty seven times in the past six years if my memory isn't failing me. And my memory is never wrong.
“Tell me!” I burst suddenly, wavering in Salah’s arms. He pressed the gun to my head, but I saw his finger was nowhere near the trigger, “Is it Zenda?” I spat the word with malice.
They were shocked, and I had my answer.
In the chaos of the police gathering their bearings, Salah sidestepped slowly about thirty feet, until he was parallel with the man at the edge of the force.
“Are we far enough?” He whispered to me.
I nodded and he pointed the gun at them.
Dmitri, more quick-witted than I thought, lunged backwards and pulled out his own Rizer, one about ten times the size of mine.
I heard Rowan curse, then run, as Salah pressed his finger onto the trigger.
“Run!” I screamed, and I did my best to help as he dragged me towards where Rowan was standing fifty feet from us already. I looked back and saw the explosion.
Electric blue light was escaping towards the police force at a mile per second, but it all happened in slow motion. The light cracked and popped, shooting out blinding beams of light. The air was suddenly hot as the ball of blue flame hurtled towards its target, taking out everything. And, at the last millisecond before he should have been vaporized, Dmitri Ivanov vanished into thin air.
“He’s gone,” I breathed to Salah when we had reached Rowan.
“I know, they’re all gone,” He swallowed.
“No!” I told him urgently, “Dmitri! When the ball shot out, he disappeared into thin air. He’s gone. And he’s working for Zenda. She’s got the whole police behind her. Boys – it looks like we’ve found ourselves a formidable enemy.”
“So this Zenda woman…who is she to us?” Rowan asked, taking one of my arms. I lean on him more now, as he’s stronger than Salah. He supports me like I weigh nothing.
“She wants the Xeron, and she knows to get it, she’ll have to get rid of us by whatever means possible. So, basically, we have to get her before she gets to us. Either way, someone’s dying…and soon.” I explained.
“But what about your leg?” Salah asked.
“We’re going to Ireland,” I said, shrugging it off because, if you know anything about the universe, you’ve got to know what Ireland has.
“What’s in Ireland?” Salah asked obliviously.
Rowan snorted out a laugh, and Salah looked genuinely offended.
“Are you kidding?” My brother asked.
“Yeah!” I piqued up, “how do you not know what’s in Ireland? And you call yourself a criminal!” I scoffed.
“So…what is it?” Salah continued on stupidly.
“They have Nucleic Doctors in Ireland, duh.” Rowan explained.
“Nucleic Doctors?” Salah looked utterly puzzled by this relatively well known concept.
“Yes…they’re the only people in this or any other dimension that can RH any person for only a…reasonable fee.” I explained.
“RH someone?” He asked.
“You’re so clueless, aren’t you?” I sighed, shaking my head, “RH as in Relazine Hype
rlative. And this means, in case you don’t know, that they can heal your cells, every one of them, in seconds, so they can heal my broken leg as soon as we can get there – that’s what a Nucleic Doctor does, and that’s why we’re going to Ireland.”
“Oh.”
“And Salah, stay away from my sister. She’ll kill you if you try anything.” He threat-ened maliciously.
I grinned, “He’s right you know. Even though Rowan could easily destroy you, it would be more fun for me to, and I’ve seen more insides than a surgeon,”
“You guys are scary.” Salah chuckled.
“Don’t I know it,” And with that, Rowan was off. He receded into the sky while Salah stood, looking at me.
“Let’s go sit on the porch of that building over there,” I pointed.
He held me up almost fully as I put no pressure on my leg, and I tumbled over. As I tripped down, in the clumsiest moment I’ve had in years, Salah caught me. I landed in his tanned arms and struggled to get out of his grip.
“Oh come on,” He smiled, standing up and holding on to me tighter. He carried me over to the porch and set me down gingerly on the wood floor.
“Congratulations,” I told him quietly.
“For what?” He seemed truly surprised at my notion.
“For earning my trust,” I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. His skin was suddenly flushed russet, making me wonder a little. Of course, he probably didn’t know that on my home planet, a kiss on the cheek is the international sign of friendship, like in many European countries on this silly planet.
“What was that for?” He asked once his face had returned to its normal shade.
“You’re not wearing an earpiece.”
“I know. You’ve got a cut on you ankle,” He informed me, and I checked it out.
He was right – there were a few scrapes on the leg I hadn’t broken from tripping earlier.
“Are they recent?” He wondered.
“I guess they are.”
“What’d you get them from?” He implored.
“I got them falling for you.” Was my nonchalant reply.
