Collide (Entangled Teen) (The Taking Book 3)

by Melissa West

  The man nods quickly.

  “Ari, we can’t just leave him,” Vill says.

  “We can.” And then I start away. “There’s going to be enough blood in this fight. I don’t want to kill one more person than I have to.”

  Vill considers me, and then sighs. “Fine. Let’s get to the road.”

  When we arrive at our designated spot at the road, the others are already there. Jackson races from the truck as soon as he sees me and wraps me in his arms. “Are you all right? What took so long?”

  “We ran into some trouble, but we handled it. We’re good to go.” The sky rumbles above us again, and I peer up to see the Ancients’ craft has disappeared. “Wait, where did it go?” I walk out into the open for a better look, but it’s nowhere in sight. “Jackson, where did it go?”

  He follows my gaze to the sky and then reaches for my hand. “Come on. We need to get to Sydia. Now.”

  Mitch pulls up a map of the area, and Dad races along every broken back road and dirt path to get home as quickly as possible. Zeus’s warning told us to expect a fight in Virginia, which is just outside of Sydia, but it didn’t say when.

  I tap my foot against the bed of the truck, a bundle of nerves that won’t seem to settle. What if this is it? What if everything I know and everyone I love is about to disappear? My hands shake, and Jackson tightens his grip on mine. He opens his mouth to say something, but it closes at the sight before us. We’re just outside the city, on a hilltop, so close I can almost smell Mom’s perfume, and right above it is the Ancient craft.

  There barely enough time to scream before a beam shoots down from the center of the ship. It fires again and again, one blast after the other, followed by a loud BOOM! that shakes the ground, throwing the truck off the road. Dad tries to steady the car on the uneven terrain, but it’s no use. We’re going to crash. Dad whips the truck around to try to bypass a fallen tree, and then we’re flipping and rolling. Jackson, Vill, and I are all tossed from the truck. I have a moment to tell myself to protect my head before slamming into the earth.

  I cough and sputter as I roll onto my back, desperate for a breath, but then the ground shakes again and I’m petrified that I’m about to sink into the dirt, gone before I’ve even made it into the city.

  I scramble to my feet. “Jackson!”

  “Here,” he calls, his voice labored. I climb over a large broken branch and then my eyes round out as I see that he’s trapped under a fallen tree, his torso wedged below the trunk. Vill is beside me, and I wonder if Dad and the others are okay, but I can only handle one worried thought at a time, so I take off for Jackson.

  He’s pale when I reach him, the pain written all over his face, though he refuses to scream or yell. My chest tightens.

  “You’re okay. It’s okay. We’re here,” I say, holding his gaze to make sure he stays with me. Vill and I lift the tree off him, but he’s badly injured, his right leg broken, and likely a few ribs. I press my hands over his ribs, concentrating on correcting each broken bone, desperate to put him back together again, and suddenly, the pain is too much for him and he screams out, the sound so raw it tears me in two.

  “It’s okay,” I say again, my voice thick from the effort to not cry. “It’s okay.”

  Jackson grinds his teeth together, his eyes clenched tight as we continue to work, unsure of whether we should go faster to get it over with or slow down to give him a break. All I know is that I can’t continue on without him. I can’t…just…he has to be okay.

  Vill shifts his attention to Jackson’s leg, speeding up the work of Jackson’s xylem. I run a hand over his face, repeating soothing words, tears streaming down my face now with each cry of pain.

  After what feels like forever, the color returns to Jackson’s face, and I release my pent-up breath. “Can you stand?” I ask.

  “I think so,” Jackson says, always the fighter.

  Vill and I help him stand, and he winces at the pain. The breaks are corrected, but the injury is still very much there. All I can hope is that his xylem continues to heal him before we get into the city.

  With Jackson now mending, I peer around for the truck and find Dad trying to muscle his way out of the driver’s side door. But where are the others? “Can you sit or stand alone while Vill and I go help them?” Jackson nods and leans back against a tree, his breathing still unsteady. I hesitate, not wanting to leave him alone. “We’ll be right back.”

  “I’m fine. Go.”

  The truck is lying on its side, the driver’s side door facing the sky, so when we open it, the door immediately tries to slam shut. Vill climbs onto the truck and holds the door while I try to pull Dad free, only to have him scream out in pain after my third attempt at lifting him. “What is it?” I ask. “Are you hurt?”

  “It’s my shoulder,” he says, holding it close. “I think it’s dislocated.”

  “Okay, let’s just try to work around it, and we can fix it once you’re out.” I reach around to pull him out again, but he drops back into the truck, wincing in pain. I peer back around at Jackson, wishing he were well. He could lift Dad without a problem, but Vill and I are both much smaller, and one of us has to hold open the door.

  Finally, I realize there’s no way of getting him out without fixing the shoulder first—xylem isn’t going to magically put his shoulder back into place. So I climb into the truck, ignoring Vill’s arguments for me to stay outside, that it isn’t safe. I secure myself as far away from Dad as I can manage, and then grip his shoulder and before he can argue, give a swift jerk, Dad grinding his teeth, his eyes watery, and then the joint is back in place.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, trying to hide the emotion in my voice at the sight of him in such pain. First Jackson, then Dad. It’s too much, too soon after losing Gretchen.

  He draws a deep breath, allowing the wound to heal. “No. That was brave. Thank you.”

  “I learned from the best.”

  Dad gives me a small hug before scooting back so I can lift myself out of the truck, when another explosion sends the ground rocking and the truck begins to flip again. I leap out of the truck and reach for Dad’s hand, pulling him with me, before the truck rolls again, caging the others inside.

  I lower myself to the ground and peer in, scared of what I’m going to find. “Cybil, can you hear me? Naomi? Myers? Mitch?”

  A grumble comes as way of an answer, but only one. My heart sinks. “Cybil?”

  “I already answered you once. Now, can you please get me out of here?” I laugh a little and feel my heart swell at the sound of her voice, strong and as agitated as ever. I don’t think I could handle losing someone else close to me so soon after Gretchen.

  “Okay, we’re going to lift the truck so you can slide out. Think you can do that?”

  “Just don’t drop it on me.”

  “Can you see the others?”

  She pauses. “Mitch is here and Myers, but Naomi, she’s…”

  Oh, no. I force myself to inhale, exhale. Breathe. Focus. “Okay,” I say then peer up at Vill and Jackson. “We’re lifting on one-two-three!” We raise the truck just enough to allow Cybil to climb out her window, then Mitch and Myers follow, both badly injured. “Maybe we should pull her out, just to check?”

  Myers looks down. “No. She’s gone. Her head…it’s no longer with her body.”

  I jerk back, bile climbing my throat at the thought, but I push it away, knowing my focus has to be on the others’ injuries.

  We spend the next ten minutes healing injuries and getting everyone packed. The Ancient craft has moved away, out of sight, and though I know that must mean it’s attacking some other city or region, I’m grateful for the break so we can hopefully get to Mom and Emmy.

  Jackson reaches for my hand and we start the descent to Sydia, my nerves wrecked, my heart racing, and then I hear the sound before I see it—a piercing zoom from the sky and then an explosion so loud that I wonder if I’ll ever be able to hear again. Ringing fills my ears, and I don’
t realize that Jackson has pulled us down or that he’s over me, protecting me like always, until I open my eyes, and then I wish I’d kept them firmly shut. I push Jackson’s arms away so I can see, so I can prove that I’m not imagining what’s in front of me.

  That Sydia, once tall and strong, isn’t now a pile of debris and smoke. Gray and gone.

  My eyes burn, the ache to cry so intense I nearly fall to my knees, and then before anyone can tell me I’m crazy or try to stop me, I take off running. Mom and Emmy were in the Underground. They could still be alive, trapped there. We can’t just leave them. I can’t just leave them.

  I hear the others fall into step beside me, and I’m grateful beyond measure that I don’t have to search for Mom and Emmy alone. I can’t imagine Zeus sending ground soldiers into the site, but he could and then I would be quickly outnumbered.

  “Thank you,” I call over to Jackson.

  “I told you before, Alexander. Wherever you go, I go.”

  I nod, fighting the urge to break down. My mind feels too fragile to allow myself to think, to feel what’s happening. Because if I take that moment, if I let it digest, I may never get back up again. And I have to continue—I have to find Mom and Emmy.

  It takes us a surprisingly short amount of time to reach the back entrance to the Underground, but the ground is all crumbled in, the first two levels exposed. I’m not sure how anyone could survive unless they were on a much lower level, and even then, how can we get to them without getting ourselves trapped?

  I put my fear aside and start for the largest opening, hoping I can just drop down, when I see a familiar face burst through the stairway door, carrying someone else. Someone…

  My eyes strain to see who and then my mind snaps into painful focus. No. No!

  “Mom? Mom!”

  I take off toward the opening, toward Law, the traitor, who is carrying my mother’s limp body. I will kill him. I will slit his throat and walk away without a hint of guilt if he hurt her.

  “What did you do?” I scream. Dad jumps into the opening and rushes for Mom, taking her in his arms. I can’t bring myself to drop down, too, because I already know. I can tell by Dad’s shoulders, how they’ve caved in over Mom, as though every muscle in him wants to pull her closer. I drop to my knees, unable to stand any longer, the world around me growing fuzzy and then silent. All I see is Mom’s body, all I hear are Dad’s cries of agony.

  I think back to my first memory of my mom, of her braiding my hair into two long braids. I was three, maybe four, and her touch was like silk, soft and smooth and never pulling. She smiled at me in the mirror and tugged each of the braids. “You’re going to be amazing, little girl. You know that?”

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  She leaned down to kiss my cheek and said, “Because your spirit is too strong to be anything else.”

  Strong.

  Strong.

  Strong.

  My eyes flash back to Law, anger fueled by pain. “You are dead,” I say, but Jackson gets to him first, pinning him to a wall.

  “I won’t let her kill you. I won’t let her have that regret, but trust me when I say that I have nothing in me for you, brother.” Jackson presses his gun to Lawrence’s temple.

  “Wait!” a voice calls from the stairwell, and we all turn to see Emmy hobbling toward us.

  “He saved her. All of us. He saved us.”

  “Emmy?” I can barely say the word.

  “I’m here.” She wraps her arms around my shoulders, and the tiny bit of control I’d held shatters. I slump into her, sobbing as memory after memory of Mom rises to the surface. Her kind voice. Her unwavering love. A fresh sob breaks free, and while a small voice is screaming for me to be the strong girl she knew me to be, I can’t make myself stop. Not yet.

  After several minutes like this, I feel Jackson lift me up and wipe away my tears, cradling me to him. “What happened?” he asks, his eyes on Law.

  “Kelvin,” Law answers. “He’s been working with Zeus all along. He had Ancients breach the Underground. It was a slaughter. I got to her, Commander, and I tried. I promise you I tried. But it was too late. I’m sorry. Ari, I’m sorry.”

  “Shoot him,” I say to Jackson, my throat raw from crying.

  “Ari…”

  My eyes turn to fire, and I pull back to look at him. “He may not have held the gun, but he aided the hand that killed her. He has been in line with Kelvin all along.”

  “No, I’ve been spying on Kelvin at Mom’s request. I told you that. She never trusted him.”

  I study him. Could he be telling the truth? Did President Cartier put him up to this? It would explain why he missed any vital organs when shooting me. Law was never a fighter, but he knows how to shoot to kill.

  “Read his mind, child,” Emmy says, reaching for my hand. “He’s telling you truth.”

  I close my eyes, torn between my desire to avenge Mom’s death and my gut, which tells me that I’ve known Law my entire life. He wouldn’t hurt Mom. He wouldn’t hurt me.

  “Ari, you know me,” he says.

  “I don’t know anything anymore.”

  I turn to face Dad, taking in Mom’s body for the first time. Her skin is gray, shriveled. Her eyes and cheeks sunken in. She’s been Taken to death, the life literally drained out of her. I start toward them, fresh tears rushing down my face. “Daddy…”

  Dad tugs me toward him so Mom’s between us, her aura once so bright, now nothing, a void, and the loss of that light is enough to make me want to give up completely. I cry as I try to take in her smell, recording it to memory, desperate to keep it with me forever. I swallow hard and then nod once to myself. “Dad, we have to go. We have to leave her.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “I won’t leave her.”

  “I need you, too,” I say, and his watery eyes find mine. “I need you, too.”

  For a moment, I worry that I’ve lost them both—Mom to the Taking, Dad to grief—but then he secures his hold on her. “Okay.” He lays her down, and I grit my teeth, steeling myself for the rush of pain at leaving her. I want to bury her body. I want to give her a proper funeral. But I know there isn’t time. Zeus hit Sydia. The war has officially begun.

  I turn to Law. “Tell us everything you know. One hint that you’re lying and I will shoot you myself.”

  Law’s gaze meets mine, full of purpose. “I know where they are, Ari. I can get you to Zeus.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “We need to get some backup,” I say. “Mitch, do you still have your T-screen?”

  He shakes his head. “Negative. It was destroyed in the crash, but I sent a message out before the plane crashed to the other bases. Hopefully someone received it.”

  “We can’t count on hope. Not anymore. Law, how long until the attack begins?”

  He checks his watch. “One hour.”

  “All right,” I say. “Let’s get to Sydia’s base and see what and who we can scour there to help.”

  We make our way through the broken streets of Sydia. The autowalks that haven’t been destroyed are still. There is no one else in sight, no hint of life at all. I hold onto hope that people have survived and are simply hiding.

  The airport comes into view, and I’m relieved to find it undamaged and at least ten hovercrafts waiting to be used.

  “Hold on,” Jackson says, gripping my arm. “Why would this area be untouched?”

  I glance at Law and then scan the area. There’s no sign of a threat, but then the RESs wouldn’t be out in the open. They would—

  And then before I can finish my thought, the trees around us move in unison, their leaves swaying forward then ripping back. The bark of each trunk crumbles and then Ancient upon Ancient emerges from the trees, ten in all, surrounding us. They’re dressed in all black, each with a weapon I don’t recognize strapped to their waists.

  Jackson steps forward, and I can tell by the Ancients’ expressions that they aren’t comfortable fighting him. The
y were raised to respect and fear him, and now, he’s the enemy. I wonder if they feel as unsure about this war as we do, but they are RESs, trained to shield their emotions. “Stand down, soldiers.”

  “We can’t do that,” a male in the center says.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Jackson says. “You could join us. You don’t have to continue this war.”

  “Join you?” the male spits out. “We have seen what humans do to Ancients here. There is no peace, no coexistence. And there is only one dominant species.”

  “There doesn’t have to be,” I say.

  The male’s eyes dart to mine, and then I can tell that he’s done talking. Whatever Zeus has brainwashed them to believe runs too deep to talk them down now.

  The male reaches for his weapon but freezes midmotion. He looks at me, but I’m not controlling him. He starts to back away and the others try to help, when Emmy steps around me, her power too great to be ignored.

  “Healer Emmy,” he gasps. “You’re one of us.”

  “No,” Emmy replies. “I want life. Not death.”

  And then I watch in awe as the Ancient reaches for his weapon and starts toward us.

  “Emmy!” I say, but it’s Vill who answers.

  “Trust her.”

  And then the Ancient reaches out a shaking hand, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?” he asks.

  “Give her your weapon,” Emmy says.

  I reach out, and it drops into my open palm. Immediately, I pass it to Jackson, hoping he knows how to use it.

  “What is it?”

  “It destroys its target on contact.”

  “And they all have them?”

  “Now, so do we,” Vill says, grabbing the weapon from one of the frozen Ancients.

  “What now?”

  “Now,” Dad says, his tone cold, emotionless, empty, “we prepare.”