Master: Arrow's Flight #3

by Casey Hays

  “Okay. The plan.” Evan lowers his rifle until the butt hits the ground. He rests it against his leg. “We’ll wait until the bulk of their men call it a night. I’m sure they have a pretty efficient night watch, but with a majority of them sleeping, we’ll gain an advantage. Our goal is two-fold. First, some of us need to get inside.” He nods toward me. “Ian’s speed will come into play. He’s been briefed on how to gain access to the tunnel hatches. At midnight, everything resets, and the first rotation begins. If Central hasn’t made any changes, Hatch 8 on the east side will be accessible without detection exactly twenty-eight minutes later. It looks to be the least populated on that side of the city. That’s our entry point—the tunnels beneath the library. Ian, you’ll need to be in position.”

  I nod, swallow once.

  “And if he misses it?” Jace Williams asks.

  “Then he gets the hell out of there. And we wait for the next rotation.”

  Evan pauses for more questions. When none come, he continues.

  “Our scouts reported in last night before everything went to hell. It’s been confirmed that bombs are being assembled in a tent on the south side. I’m sure all of you can take an educated guess as to the second goal of this mission.”

  “Bingo,” Kyle says. I look at him. He toys with an unlit flashlight, tossing it from one hand to the other.

  “What’s their plan?” Arthur Benton chimes in. He rubs a thoughtful hand across his full, black beard. “To blow out the wall?”

  “That looks to be the case,” Evan concedes. “Clearly, we can’t let that happen for several reasons. One, those bombs are more than likely loaded with that obnoxious white liquid that is bent on killing us. Secondly, if the wall is made vulnerable, these soldiers may gain access to the Serum. And then, we have a whole new problem on our hands.”

  I look at Justin, barely making out the whites of his eyes in the dark. He keeps them trained on Evan.

  “I’ll be dividing us into three teams of eight. Kyle, you’re with team one, headed by Jace. He’ll be going with Ian. Team two is with me. I’ll brief you on everything we got from the scouts. We’ll head to the south side in the next couple of hours.” He nods toward the surly Rover with a tattoo of three bullets grazing his left cheek. “Lance, team three is yours. You’re on surveillance. It’s your job to be our ears and eyes while we’re down there.”

  He tosses him a radio and raises up two others in each hand at shoulder level.

  “Radio silence unless there’s an emergency.”

  Lance nods once and tucks the device into his belt. Evan tosses a second radio to Jace.

  “Okay boys, let’s get organized and hunker down for a bit longer. Eat something, rest up if you want to. It may be a long night. Benton, pick three guys to take watch.”

  The Rovers scatter, settling among the darkness under the trees to chomp on jerky or nap. Arthur Benton makes his choices, and they set up watch. Max and Jesse take off to find out which team they’ve been assigned to. I slump down next to Justin. We both ease back against a large tree to wait. I lay my bow beside me and slink out of the quiver.

  “Are you ready for this?” I ask.

  “I have to be.” He stares at the ground in front of him, his hands hanging over his knees, fingers wrapped around the piece of wood still covered in bark. “You know, I’m more afraid of confronting my dad than I am of dying.” He looks at me. “How am I going to tell him that everything he’s ever worked for has led to a war—if he doesn’t already know. Maybe he does.” He sighs. “What’s he going to do?”

  I shrug. “Your dad’s a good man. Don’t you think he’ll do the right thing?”

  “And what is the right thing, Ian?” He pins me with a hard look. “Injecting us with Serum and then exposing us to dangerous toxins to activate it? Turning your sister into a seven year old soldier? Taking babies from Gaza and using them as test subjects for his latest compounds?”

  I lift my brows. “He did that?”

  “I wasn’t sure at first.” He shuffles his fingers through some loose dirt. “Not until you told me about us. About what the Serum really is. About what he’d done to Ava, and who knows who else. And about the nano-virus.” His fingers tense; the wood cracks in his grip. “I talked to my aunt about it last night, and it suddenly all makes sense. All those babies injected with Serum at different stages. Dad spending so much time in the lab, working himself to the bone, watching his experiments fail in one baby after another. And for what?”

  “Well, he did cause Ava to shift. I don’t like it, but I guess that’s progress.”

  “Progress.” His voice is a raspy whisper. “You think?”

  I’m not sure if he’s looking for me to answer, so I don’t. He sighs.

  “On my way to Jordan with Liza, I killed three soldiers. Ripped their throats out one by one. I’m not saying they didn’t deserve it.” He faces me. “But why did I do it?” he whispers. “I’ve always wanted to help people. That wasn’t me.”

  “It was the Serum,” I nod. “It did the same to me.”

  “Yeah. And now, your seven-year old little sister is just like us. So tell me, what is the right thing?”

  I swallow, absorbing everything he’s said. This time, he wants an answer. I hear it in the longing of the question, and I don’t have one. What is the right thing? What the people of Eden can do is nothing short of amazing, and I’m not sure I’d want to change what I am. Even after everything Penelope told me, I wouldn’t go back. Not now. Not after I know the feel of the wind on my face and the surge of a healing racing through my flesh.

  Ironically, all of these things that make us so invincible also make us vulnerable. I look out at the army that spreads across the field just outside our gate, and I know it. The Serum is our greatest weakness. It’s why the Code was written. It’s why Outsiders were banned from the city. We decided that we were the only ones capable of keeping all the secrets of the world, and look at us now.

  We had no right, and we can’t go back.

  But we can change things.

  “I can teach Ava,” I say quietly.

  Justin looks at me. “This has something to do with you being able to stop your healing, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah. I understand a lot of things I didn’t before. The Serum feels different.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. The last few days I’ve felt a different kind of connection with it. And then earlier today, I guess, I finally understood it. It’s like . . . we can talk to each other.”

  Justin sighs and lays his head back against the tree. “Why didn’t they just tell us from the beginning that we were full of microscopic machines?”

  For some reason, the visual connected to his statement makes me laugh. He smiles as the image catches him, too.

  “I’ve thought about that. But would it have mattered?” I ask. “Does knowing make it any different for you?”

  “No.” He thinks a minute. “But what about you? You’re different. You really are different.”

  I shake my head. “That has nothing to do with knowing about nanotech.”

  “Right.” He pauses. “It’s Penelope’s god, isn’t it?”

  I meet his eyes. “Yes. And mine . . . now.”

  He nods, looks off into the darkness.

  “I stayed up all night reading the Scriptures the day before I was shot,” I explain. “And the whole time I was out, those verses kept coming at me. Almost like they were screaming, you know? Screaming for me to wake up. And I don’t mean wake up literally. I mean they wanted me to wake up and pay attention to what they were saying.”

  I run a hand up the length of my bow once before I continue.

  “I’ve never have really felt peace before. That’s always been my problem. I’m restless. Anxious. Wanting to be on the move, be ahead of the trouble, prevent disaster. Stuff like that. I was never just . . . still. And self-control?” I shake my head. “Not a chance.”

  “And God changed you? Just
like that?”

  “No. I have a long way to go. But knowing that no matter what happens—good or bad—he’s with me? That’s peace. And for me, I had to know what peace was first before I could ever grasp this idea of self-control. That’s been the problem all along.”

  He toys with his bottom lip a minute, thinking. “Maybe that’s what they should teach us first in our classes, then.”

  “They can’t,” I answer. “It can’t be taught. Neither can self-control, really. It just has to be granted.”

  He stares at me. “Look at you. Talking like this. You sound just like Penelope.”

  I laugh. “That’s not such a bad thing.” The laughter fades, and I face him, serious. “Did you ever listen to her? About the sound of the anvil?”

  He smiles. “Oh yeah, she told me. My whole life, it’s been Yeshua, Yahweh, Adonai.” He shakes his head. “Father, Son, Holy Spirit.”

  “You still don’t believe?”

  He shrugs, crossing his arms. “It’s probably time to give it some more thought. Maybe when we’re done here.”

  “Or maybe you should think about it now,” I offer. “Before we even get started.”

  “Maybe,” he shrugs.

  He falls into silence, and I don’t push. It wouldn’t make a difference if I did. If I learned one thing through all of this, it’s that we all have to come to the edge of the cliff alone.

  I close my eyes and listen to the sounds of the low conversations around us. A few snores mix in with the noise. Jesse’s voice floats toward me from somewhere to my left. Arthur and his watchmen stand guard at intermittent intervals, hunched silhouettes at the edge of the trees. Slowly, one campfire after another begins to fade in the distance, and Eden falls under the spell of the shadows. I perk up, lifting my shoulders, my fingertips grazing my bow.

  The time draws near.

  Midnight.

  I lie flat on my stomach at the edge of the trees with the rest of my team, staring at the face of the stopwatch Evan handed me half an hour ago. The glowing green digital numbers race faster than I like, and my heart beats in tune with the countdown. I take a deep breath to slow the pace.

  A few campfires glow in the distance, but most of the area surrounding Eden has gone dark as the troops settle in for the night. The night watch surrounds the entire wall of the city at intervals of about twenty feet, fully alert and armed. Twenty feet apart. Not much room for the average person to sneak in unnoticed. For me? Cake.

  I hope.

  Beside me, Justin holds still, watching the movement of the troops. We can hear the low rumble of voices from a few men still awake. Someone laughs—a bellowing sound that rings on the breeze. It seems out of place. Justin’s hands tighten around two clumps of grass; my fingers clutch the grip on my bow. And we wait.

  Eden itself is locked down tight, the dome covering still intact behind large broken pieces of the Plexiglass. Just as Kyle described, no one’s coming in or going out, and we are fully aware of one primary issue: If we don’t put a stop to this siege soon, Eden will run out of supplies. The city has six months, possibly a year of stockpiles, but that’s it. Regardless of our abilities, we need food, and we need water. I’ve never asked myself what might happen to us if we didn’t have those things. It’s never been a consideration. Maybe that’s why the Vortex hasn’t been more aggressive against the wall. Maybe they’re biding their time.

  No one has ever tried to starve us to death.

  “Twenty-three minutes,” I announce in a low whisper. The men in my group grunt in acknowledgment.

  “Let’s run through the procedure one more time.” Jace lies so close to me his breath mixes with mine in the muggy heat. “How do you open the hatch?”

  “Pop the control cover with this.” I hold up the tool every Rover carries. A type of hooked screwdriver. “Twist the key a quarter turn and raise the lever to loosen the gaskets. Spin the handle to the left to open the hatch door.”

  “And where is the control cover located?” he drills.

  “Lower left side of the door. A small square section flush with the wall and almost invisible unless you know it’s there.”

  “Good,” Jace acknowledges. “As long as everything runs smoothly, we’ll be on track.” He slaps at a bug that lands in his close-cropped beard and flicks it away. “Once you’ve got the hatch open, you signal two long and three short blinks with your flashlight. We’ll be right behind you.”

  I nod, scanning the area around Hatch 8. Evan chose this hatch because it’s big enough for all eight of us to fit inside it enclosed before we open the inner hatch. It’ll be a tight fit, but this way, we’ll be able to climb into the tunnels all at once and seal the inner hatch to keep from being detected by Central. And the chamber will have plenty of time to equalize before the next scan.

  “If they think the enemy is invading, they’ll gas the tunnels.” Evan explained earlier. “It won’t kill us, but it’ll knock us out for a while. An enemy wouldn’t know to enter the tunnels between scans. They wouldn’t know to reset the chamber. They don’t know procedure. We do. So we will follow it, and Central will be grateful for it.”

  His words run through my head as I mentally prepare myself for the task. Now, the men are antsy, ready to be on the move, and whether or not this pans out depends on me. The stopwatch reads fifteen minutes and thirty-two seconds. I squint in the dark, trying to decipher how many men and tents and fires are camped around our chosen hatch. From here, they’re no more than large clumps of black shadows.

  “You ready for this, Ian Roberts?” Kyle’s raspy whisper reaches me from a couple men down the line. I turn my head.

  “Do I have a choice?” I ask.

  He laughs softly. “You got what you asked for. Don’t let us down.”

  Great. No pressure.

  The stopwatch clicks over. Fourteen minutes. I glance at my best friend lying so close our shoulders touch, and I can feel his pulse beating with mine.

  When we were kids, we played games like this. Hiding in the park, using sticks as guns and swords. Dropping down in the dirt to play dead. Tonight, this is no game. Tonight, one of us could very well lose his life for real, and the thought of it hurts me in a place deep in my heart. A place that I thought was unreachable once. I have a sudden urge to say something to him. I lean slightly until my mouth is close to his ear.

  “Hey. Run fast, okay?”

  It’s all I can think to say that won’t sound soft and mushy. He connects with me, his usually calm eyes glinting in the little bit of moonlight with just a hint of apprehension.

  “Are you scared?” he whispers.

  “Yeah,” I nod. “And I’d better be. Too much confidence, and I’ll screw this up. It’s kind of what I do.”

  I toss him a half-smile. He swallows, and I sense an anxiousness in him—something I’m not used to seeing in Justin.

  “We’re gonna be fine,” he insists. And he’s nodding rapidly, trying to convince himself of his own words. I take a firm hold on his hand. We’re silent a long moment, drawing courage from that small connection.

  “Did you pray?” he asks. I nod. He looks away. “Throw one up for me, okay?”

  I squeeze his hand. “Already done.”

  The stopwatch clicks. Six minutes.

  Evan’s team should be in position near the tent with the bombs. I raise my head and twist to look over my shoulder. The surveillance team waits a few yards behind us, Jesse and Max included. Jesse was pretty disappointed he wasn’t assigned to the bomb squad, but we all knew there was no way Evan would take him. And frankly, we should just be grateful he chose to bring us at all. I face the city again. Next to me, Jace grips the radio. For now, all is silent.

  Thirty seconds.

  “All right, Ian.” Jace nods. “You’re up.”

  I slip up to a crouching position, ready to spring forward. Jace raises the radio to his lips.

  “Blackbird is a go.” The radio chirps with static, goes silent again.

  Ten
seconds, I take a deep breath, slip my bow into place across my chest.

  “Good luck, Ian Roberts,” Kyle whispers.

  My blood rises; clicks rattle through my veins.

  I’m off.

  The grass flies up to spin out of control in my wake.

  Chapter 36

  M

  y heart beats in my head like a ticking time bomb. But I don’t allow myself to think. I just act.

  I whiz past the soldier on watch and snake through the tents. My movements are undetectably quick and rote: locate the control cover, pop it, release the gaskets, pull the lever, spin the handle. The hatch whooshes open. The whole ordeal takes six seconds . . . and the soldier turns at the sound.

  He spots me, opens his mouth to alert the others, and he’s out like a light when my elbow cracks into his skull. I catch his falling body before it crashes, and I lay him gently in the grass, his rifle in my hand. Flashlight in the other, I signal two long, three short blinks. Seven shadows rise up and storm silently toward me.

  I toss a glance at the other two watchmen, twenty feet away on either side of me. It’s time for a nap. And one, then the other, joins his friend on the ground. The rest of the soldiers in this section are sound asleep inside their tents.

  The Rovers advance, slowing to creep in among the sleeping men. Justin reaches my side, and we slip into the hatch first. The others pile in behind, Jace last. He closes and seals the hatch, resetting the spring lever. Kyle releases the gaskets on the inner door. Another Rover, Cliff Petroski, spins the handle, and we drop into the tunnel one after the other. Justin straightens to his full height, flashlight in hand, and takes in the winding slope that will take us into the secret underground network of Eden.

  “Whoa,” he whispers. He looks at me, clearly amazed. “I never would have guessed.”

  Jace closes the hatch, spins the handle into its locked position. The gaskets suction into place. He punches buttons on the panel to reset the equalization of the chamber and faces me.

  “I’ve got to give it to you . . . I’ve never seen anyone move like that. You did good, kid.”