by Anela Deen
This was all my fault. My parents hadn’t wanted me to do this alone. Here, at the end, I could admit I’d been trying to prove something. To my family and to everyone else. It wasn’t only about ferrying goods between the settlements. I’d wanted them to see I wasn’t just a glitchy brain. I wasn’t defective, no matter how many murmurs and stares said otherwise. Now I would never see home again. I was so stupid. And so dead.
The force of the next bolt blew the access door open so hard it smacked the inner wall and banged shut again. Mostly destroyed, it hung off its hinges. Red beams focused on my huddled form. I squeezed my eyes shut. Nothing noble came to me for my last thought, only a prayer I wouldn’t feel it.
A thunderous explosion shook the plating under me. My eyes snapped open. Beyond the drones, flames erupted, coiling and curling with black smoke. They turned, clacking and trilling, and for a wondrous moment, I thought they’d take off and forget my execution. Two departed to investigate. The third turned back to me.
What admirable delegators.
This time I didn’t try to hide. If this was the moment of my death, I wouldn’t face it cowering in a sad little ball. I sat up and stared right back at the thing.
“Go on then.” I spread my shaking arms, teeth chattering.
Its targeting beam painted my chest. The hum of a charged weapon reached my ears. I realized it hadn’t come from the drone a split second before an amber beam streaked in from the side and ripped through the machine’s body. Circuits blew from its bulk like brain matter and it clunked to the ground. The red eye flickered and went out.
Dazed, I stared at the incomprehensible sight, then lurched back in alarm when a figure sped past the door. Tall. Dark clad. What the—Was that a human being? I didn’t get a better glimpse before the dark shape disappeared in the direction of the explosion.
The explosion. Where the drones went. I wrangled the broken door open, kicked away the remains of the destroyed drone, and crawled out. Smoke hazed the air, acrid in the back of my throat. I edged my way alongside the rail path, a circuit tower at my back. The drones remained airborne, swooping left and right over the pocket of flames, dragging tendrils of smoke with them like snagged curtains. They fired toward the ground, but their targeting systems hadn’t locked on, the beams spread wide searching. The fire must have distorted my rescuer’s heat signature.
An amber beam sliced through the smoky veil and impaled one of the drones. It quivered, electrical bolts sizzling across its length. It split in half and dropped to the ground. The other zeroed in on the point of origin, sending a barrage of focused bolts toward the ground. My shoulders slumped. No one could have evaded those shots. I should get out of here and find another hiding spot in the distraction. That drone would sweep the area in a minute.
Yet…it didn’t seem right to run off. Someone had risked their life for mine. What if they were injured? I had to help somehow. Whoever this person was, they’d come equipped with a powerful weapon. Maybe if I diverted the last drone’s attention, it would give the stranger the opening they needed.
I dug my slingshot out of my pack and readied a bolt in the pocket. As I drew back the cord and fixed the drone between the prongs, I had trouble believing I meant to do this. The slingshot was enough to stand up to a Wraith—an exiled human condemned to death in the network—but not a drone.
“This is really dumb,” I whispered and released the bolt.
It ricocheted off its armored hide with an adorable plinking sound. Instantly, it whirled my direction. And there I stood, completely in the open. My survival instincts were absolute junk today. Nothing stirred between the flames. Of course not. The machines always won.
It glided away from the fire, targeting beam honed in on me. The slingshot fell from my hand. A shape blurred through the swirling smoke and a man catapulted from the ground onto the back of the drone. My jaw dropped open. He held on as the thing swiveled and bucked, thighs clamping on the smooth, metallic surface. His arms rose above his head, a glowing amber blade in his hands. He drove into the machine. It whirred and screamed, careening in a downward spiral. The man slid off and landed nimbly in a crouch, the glowing blade swept out to one side. The drone collided with the ground in a burst of sparks and metal shards.
I stood there, plastered against the tower wall, unable to absorb what had just happened. No one could move like that. Backlit by smoke and flames, my rescuer seemed like a figure out of a mythic tale of heroes from the Time Before. He stood slowly, the amber blade retracting into a black cylinder with a hand grip on one end. He didn’t appear to have another weapon. Did that thing have multiple functions? Dressed all in black, it was the only thing he carried but for items he had strapped, stored, or clipped to his body.
He secured his weapon to his side, turned, and looked right at me. My shoulders stiffened, fear still flush in my adrenaline-soaked system. If he’d wanted to hurt me he could have left me to my fate, right? My heart picked up speed anyway as he strode toward me.
Broad shouldered, lean muscle flexing beneath the dark clothes, he cut an imposing figure. He looked unlike anyone from the settlements, a fact which had me gaping in outright astonishment. With so few humans left, our bloodlines had mixed and remixed over generations, resulting in mostly everyone possessing the same thick brown locks, prominent brown eyes, and copper skin.
Black, tousled hair fluttered over the stranger’s brow, his skin a tawny-beige with deep-set eyes shaped like teardrops. Although his face remained expressionless, intensity burned in the dark green gaze he leveled at me. He called out no greeting as he approached. In other circumstances, I might have thought his angular face handsome but his demeanor intimidated me.
I put my hand over the laser cutter on my tool belt, ready to pull it free and defend myself if necessary. He’d saved me, yes, but that didn’t mean I could trust him. His gaze flicked to the cutter in my white-knuckled grip, then back to me.
“What is our current network location?” The quiet voice had a slight gravel to it as if he didn’t use it often.
I blinked up at him. “Our location? This is block one-thirty.”
“Which sector? Which grid?”
Was he serious? There was only one sector and grid for the human settlements. I rattled it off to him, then fidgeted under his relentless stare before I realized he wasn’t looking at me but through me. Puzzling over the information I’d given him?
His gaze refocused. “I seek grid one, block one, alpha sector.”
“The ICCS? The Interspace Central Command Space?”
“Yes.”
It was my turn to stare. “Are you…asking for directions?”
“Yes.”
My brow furrowed incredulously. “No one knows where that is. Buried someplace deep in the network where no human has ever been since the End War.” He continued to watch me. I shifted uncomfortably. Did he expect me to say more? “Uh, thank you. For saving me. I don’t know why you did it, but I’m grateful to not be a pile of ash right now. I’m Soleil, by the way. Sol for short.”
He didn’t reply or offer his name. Officially weird. Had he been expelled from his settlement? It didn’t happen often and usually only for a capital crime. He seemed a tad too well provisioned to be a Wraith, however, and um—my gaze flitted over his solid form—too healthy as well. If he was out here looking for the flipping ICCS, he’d obviously lost his mind. Did he think he was going to stroll in there and singlehandedly deactivate the system that’d ruthlessly overrun the world countless years ago? Even if he’d bested those three drones, it seemed a good bet anywhere near the central core would be crawling with them. And speaking of drones…
“Hey, it’s probably a good idea to get moving while we can. Only three drones were assigned to sweep this area today but I’m sure they sent off an alert to the ones a few grids over.”
It would take several hours for them to get here and I’d need all that time to cross the remaining distance.
His keen gaze sharpened. �
�How do you know this?”
Oh, right. How would I explain why I knew such oddly specific details about drone locations? Definitely wasn’t about to reveal my network dreams to a stranger.
“Er, just a guess.” Smooth.
“I observed you leave the path before the drones arrived. You knew they were coming. How?”
So someone had been watching.
Slowly, casual-like, I bent to retrieve my slingshot. “I had a gut feeling?”
“A gut feeling.” The hint of a question there.
“Yeah, you know, sixth sense. Instinct. That kind of thing.” I took a step away. He followed.
“Your pulse is elevated and your cortisol levels indicate increased stress. You’re lying.”
Huh?
“Well, I did almost die a couple of times there. Everything’s elevated right now. Just look at my hair.”
Something was off about this guy. His speech held no inflection. Between the impossible physical feats he’d just performed and his now eerie stillness, it didn’t take a genius to see he wasn’t entirely human even if he looked it. The sooner I put distance between us, the better.
Inching away, I said, “It sounds like we’re headed different directions, so I’ll just be on my way. Again, thanks for the help.”
I moved off at a stately trot—no, this didn’t count as running—and slowed as I recalled the supplies I’d abandoned by my bike. Crud. I couldn’t leave those behind. Too many people were counting on them.
A hand clamped around my arm. “Stop.”
Startled, I didn’t think. I whipped around and swung a fist with my free hand as hard as I could. I aimed for the guy’s jaw but he anticipated this and leaned back. My knuckles missed his face entirely and hit his shoulder with a wet smack. Something spattered my cheek. I flinched, then gaped at my blood coated fingers. That wasn’t mine. My gaze found the wound on his shoulder, the bleeding soaked into his dark clothes.
“Oh. Oh no.” Impulsively, I pressed my hand to it. “You’re hit. You were hit.”
Not that one could tell by the way he stood there. No hint of pain creased his face. He tilted his head to look at my hand on him.
“The injury is negligible.”
“Are you crazy? You’ll bleed to death if this isn’t tended.”
“You will tell me how you became aware of the drone maintenance schedule.”
“The what? Are you a robot or something? Doesn’t this hurt?”
His jaw twitched. “I am not a robot.”
“Who are you then?”
“Echo.”
“Is—That’s your name?”
“Yes.”
Totally did not make him seem less robotic.
“Can’t you feel there’s a hole in your shoulder? Where did you come from anyway?”
“Answer my question.”
Okay, a change of tactic was called for here. I had to get myself and the supplies back to my home settlement on the other side of this block before more drones showed up. Somehow, I had to convince this idiot to come with me and be treated for a laser wound. I didn’t know precisely what he was but he couldn’t be a tool of the Interspace if he had no idea how to reach the central core. He hadn’t even known where he was. Besides, he’d saved my life. I owed him.
“I have a better idea. You come with me to my settlement and I’ll tell you how I knew where the drones would be.”
His green eyes cooled. “You will tell me now.”
His grip on my arm was firm but not painful. As much as I didn’t appreciate being grabbed, my instincts said he wouldn’t hurt me.
“A compromise then. I’ll answer one question here on the condition that any others have to wait until we get to safety.” He stared at me blank-faced and didn’t reply. “You know, a non-robot would see the benefit of compromise in this situation.”
Did his eyebrow twitch ever so slightly? He released me.
“Very well. Tell me how—“
“I knew because I saw it. I saw the schematics for this grid and the schedule the drones would follow. I saw the access codes of the other settlements for entry and departure. I can see everything. Every detail.”
And each time I did, I risked my life.
~ End of Excerpt ~
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About the Author
A child of two cultures, this hapa haole Hawaiian girl is currently landlocked in the Midwest. After exploring the world for a chunk of years, she hunkered down in Minnesota and now fills her days with family, fiction, and the occasional snowstorm. With a house full of lovable toddlers, a three-legged cat, and one handsome Dutchman, she prowls the keyboard late at night while the minions sleep. Coffee? Nah, she prefers tea with a generous spoonful of sarcasm.
