Defiance Rising

by Amy Miles

FOUR

  I only make it three steps before the roof explodes in front of me. Gravel turns into flying missiles, pelting me and leaving what are sure to be wicked bruises. Sweltering heat blazes around me, an inferno sparking high into the air. The smoke is so thick I can hardly catch my breath let alone see where the black ship is located against the night sky.

  Bastien cries out as his shotgun flies out of his grasp and falls through the hole in the roof as he slams to the ground. He groans and rolls to his side. “We gotta move!”

  His strong hands grip my waist and pull me to my feet as hurricane force winds whip the smoke into a gray cyclone.

  As he pushes me around the gaping hole, I feel heat radiating through the soles of my shoes. Charred roof tiles fall through the gap and clatter to the concrete floor three stories below. My hair thrashes against my face, stinging my eyes as I stumble blindly ahead, hands outstretched to find the door.

  We dive through the opening and into darkness, our panting echoing in the stairwell beyond as Bastien kicks the door closed.

  “How did they find us?” I choke out, my lungs burning in my chest.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He yanks me to my feet, pausing only a brief moment to wipe a stream of blood from my hairline. I wince at his touch, noticing the stinging pain for the first time.

  Crimson light explodes through the lower level, illuminating the stairs. The machines below groan as the laser melts right through them. Bastien’s feet barely touch the steps as he leaps to the landing below. To see the laser’s destructive powers in action is both terrifying and awe-inspiring.

  “Keep up!” Bastien shouts, as he turns to find me staring at the boiling devastation below.

  My heavy breathing sounds hollow in my ears as I land on the second floor. I peek through the metal slats of the stairs and see streaks of flames crisscrossing the concrete floor below, like a trail of oil set alight.

  I can hear the Sky Ship’s engines rotate as it hovers mere feet above the street. It’s swirling crimson glow illuminates the wide expanse of glassless windows running the length of the building. My thoughts slow, horror choking me, as the ship’s cannon rotates, recharging for a second shot.

  “Run!” Bastien’s fingers dig into my arm as a deafening hum echoes throughout the vast room. The mechanic whirring of the charging laser frees my limbs and I let him drag me away from the stairs. There is no partition, no extra floor between us to save us from the blast. My feet slap the concrete floor as we race across the open walkway toward the closest office.

  “Get down!” Shoving us through a doorway, Bastien slams me to the floor as a cloud of heat bursts through the glassless window overhead. I cover my head with my arms and scream as the world turns red. My skin blackens and the scent of burnt hair fills my nose as Bastien throws himself over me as a human shield.

  His weight is suffocating as I struggle to get air into my lungs. What little I manage to snatch burns as it passes my lips, drying out my mouth.

  The roar of the laser below is deafening, drowning out my screams. Bastien’s hand fumbles down my arm until it reaches my hand. I squeeze back, praying for relief from the scorching heat.

  And then it all stops. I lift my head and listen as the Sky Ship’s engines whir to life and the crimson glow vanishes. “Is it gone?”

  Bastien groans as he rolls off me. Tendrils of smoke rise from his sweater and the ends of his raven hair appear to be singed. He struggles to suck in gulps of air into his lungs as wracking coughs double him over.

  “Are you ok?” I push to my knees.

  “I’ll be fine.” His soot blackened arm quivers as he reaches for the door handle. He cries out, tucking his hand in close to his chest. He swears under his breath as I catch a scent of burnt flesh. “Don’t touch anything metal.”

  I crawl forward, one hand outstretched, as I work my way toward the door. I can feel the heat on the other side, as flames lick the wooden doorframe. “We’re trapped!”

  “No.” He shakes his head, coughing. I reach out for him and pull him next to me, holding him against my side until his fit subsides. He looks to the jagged glass protruding from the window at the back of the office, partially tucked behind a row of melting file cabinets. “We can go through there.”

  I rise unsteadily to my feet and peer out the window. There is only a small ledge, about five inches wide, to shimmy along. Beyond that is a sheer drop to the lower floor. “There has to be another way.”

  Bastien clutches his side as he rises. “It’s our only shot.”

  Staring down at the narrow shelf, I try to envision the rock ledge over the waterfall back home, my favorite place to escape. “You can do this, Illyria,” I chant as Bastien smashes a desk chair against the jagged glass, clearing our path.

  He tosses the chair aside. “Get going.”

  I don’t normally like having commands barked at me, but as I turn I notice movement near the front of the building. Three shadows inch close to the front entrance, their hands raised to shield their faces from the blistering heat. With any luck, they’ll be held back by the same force that traps us, but how long will the heat last? I can already feel the air beginning to cool slightly.

  I tear my gaze away from the front office window as Bastien lifts me through the back opening. “Be careful but haul tail.”

  Balancing on my toes, I shuffle along the lip. My calves begin to burn as I press my cheek against the wall, straining to keep my weight shifted forward. Bastien quickly follows, right on my heels. I can hear his grunts of pain as his injured hand cups the wall but I don’t stop to look back.

  I dig the tips of my fingers into the cracks of the concrete block wall, pulling myself along. My heart thunders in my ears, covering the sounds of Squaddies approaching from the street. It’s only a matter of time before we’ll have to fight our way through an entire army.

  Bastien’s hip presses against mine, urging me on. I shuffle faster, inching past three more open window frames toward a waist high concrete banister that wraps around the side of the offices. I breathe a sigh of relief as my fingers grip the ledge and I hoist myself over.

  He quickly follows, pulling me low as three black soldiers slip through the front door, their guns trained before them as they search for us. “Head for the stairs,” he whispers into my ear.

  The heat is less intense now, escaping through a gaping hole that’s been blown out the back of the building. I can almost see the rippling waves in the moonlight as heat escapes through the windows above me.

  I shake my head, frantically motioning to the men below us. The glowing red cores of their guns illuminate their path with a dim light, allowing them to see into the deep shadows of the factory. If we’re quiet we might be able to sneak out of here, but our chances of that happening are dismal. The stairs to my left are only fifteen feet away, but their descent will lead us straight into alien territory.

  “We can make it,” Bastien insists.

  I pull his face toward mine. “They’ll see us!”

  Trust me, he mouths and rushes toward the stairs. I curse silently as I crouch low and follow. Bastien waits for me at the top step, his eyes narrowed with fear. “What’s wrong?” I whisper, surprised that he’s suddenly developed a healthy dose of concern.

  He points to the metal stairs. They descend half a flight and then end in a landing before jutting in a sharp right, back toward the front of the building. Now all that remains is first half of the flight. I peer over the edge and find the lower portion crumpled on the ground below.

  Now what? I mouth to him. He jerks his finger over the ledge and mimes climbing down the stairs. No! I shake my head with a silent scream. There’s no way I’m going down that.

  He grips my arm and pulls me close, so near I can feel the heat of his breath wash over my face. “Trust me,” he whispers.

  I stare at the drop-off, judging it to be about eight-foot high. No
t deadly by any means but certainly high enough to twist an ankle or knee.

  “Don’t drop me,” I warn as I grab his hand and ease down into a crisscross position on the top step.

  He holds up his hand and I pause. Poking his finger through one of the slits in his shirt, he slowly tears the fabric into a long strip. I can hear muttering from below but no rush of footsteps toward our location. He rips another cloth and we hold our breath.

  The Squaddies form a small group just inside the lobby. Why aren’t they searching for us anymore? What are they waiting for?

  Bastien carefully wraps the strips of cloth around my hands to protect them from the heat. I wish I had something to cover my mouth so I don’t feel like I’m breathing acid.

  You can do this, he mouths, placing a hand on my shoulder. I nod and shrug off his touch as I uncurl my legs and lower myself down to the first step. I pause, listening before I climb down three more steps.

  The metal is hot but not unbearable against my palms. I keep my fingers aloft, trying to keep them from blistering. The stairs shudder beneath me with each movement. A loud groan echoes through the factory as the stairs suddenly shift and I duck low to look at the aliens.

  “Go!” Bastien waves at me to hurry as the aliens break out into a sprint.

  I clamber down the final steps with no regard to noise. My stomach lurches as the top of the stairs begins to peel away from the second floor, the metal groaning as it tosses me off balance. Bastien’s eyes are wide with fright as the first hint of red light comes into view.

  He leans over the edge. “Jump!”

  “No!” I readjust my grip on the bottom rung. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Just go. I’ll be fine!” He disappears from the top step, leaving me to dangle eight feet over the floor. Over the shouting below, I hear a crash as Bastien kicks in one of the office doors.

  “Up there!” a Squaddie shouts as he slides to a halt just below the walkway. The walls glow scarlet as the aliens aim high, their lasers charged and ready.

  I hiss as my thumb rests a bit too long on the metal step. I can feel the burn sinking into my flesh, but I hold back my tears. For now, I’m concealed by one of the machines, but one cry will send them racing in my direction.

  With a loud bellow, Bastien rushes from the office and hurls something down at the Caldonians. The three Squaddies leap out of the way as metal drawers from a desk crash to the ground.

  “We’ve got one trapped in the old fabrication warehouse. Send backup.” A small black device on the alien’s shoulder crackles as a response arrives a second later. My heart sinks as moments later I hear boots, pounding up the street at a dead run, over the groaning of metal machines slowly disintegrating.

  Bastien heaves an armful of drawers over the ledge and I close my eyes. One. Two. Three.

  As the aliens take cover from Bastien’s newest office supply assault, I tuck my head and drop. A chair crashing to the floor masks my grunt of pain when I land. The roller wheels pop off and spin in all directions.

  I stagger to my feet in the shadows and back up against the outer wall. The air on the second floor looks thicker, laden with smoke, but the first floor offers a hazy mix of moonlight sifting through thick clouds of smoke. I cup my hand over my mouth, filtering my breaths through the wool cloth.

  Black clad soldiers pour through the front door opening, fanning out in a line. I sink low, crouching behind the remains of a machine as the Squaddies fire random shots to the second floor walkway. Bastien times their fire, waiting until the Caldonians are forced to recharge before attacking again.

  Office supplies rain down from above, pelting the aliens as their reinforcements arrive. A tall alien marches forward to stand beside the three soldiers. His eyes are deep-set and flicker like the flames all around. “What do we have?”

  “One teenage boy on the walkway directly above, sir.”

  The alien nods and steps back as a gray, two-drawer cabinet is flung over the solid railing. “Is he alone?”

  “Yes, sir. As far as we can tell.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief that I’ve gone unnoticed but that relief quickly fades as the tall alien speaks into a black device, identical to the one used only a moment ago. It is clipped to his chest, directly over three vivid red moon emblems. “Land a squadron on the roof. Let’s flush him out.”

  He must be a Gentry, I think as a rhythmic beating of a Sky Ship’s engine approaches. We are running out of time.

  I could escape through the back wall, and I might even make it if I cling to the shadows, but I can’t leave Bastien. Not after he risked his life for me.

  Even if I manage to get off a couple good shots, I know I’ll be taken by the reinforcements at the back of the factory. I’ve only got two blades but maybe I can do enough damage to take that Gentry alive and use him as a bargaining chip.

  No matter how I look at this, I know this isn’t going to end well for me, but I still can’t bring myself to leave Bastien behind. I bend over and crawl on my hands and knees, inching my way past the fallen stairs to get a better view.

  “Get him down, now!” The Gentry growls as he dodges a disfigured metal trashcan. It clatters past and rolls to a stop against one of the machines. I peek out from my hiding place and watch him plant his feet, rigid and motionless apart from a tic under his right eye. His gaunt cheeks pull taut as he leers up at the floor above, a crazed fervor gleaming in his eye. I shudder as he fingers a long curved blade at his hip.

  The way the Gentry caresses the black hilt reminds me of Eamon’s affection for his spear. I reach back and run my finger along my own blades and feel a jolt of realization. He’s a hunter. I have no doubt this man will take pleasure in personally gutting Bastien when they catch him.

  Suddenly, a strange burning sensation in my fingers grabs my attention. The burn climbs through my fingers and reaches my wrists. I gasp as tears sting my eyes.

  Something is wrong.

  I sink back against the wall and clutch my hands to my stomach. Like dipping frozen fingers in water, the burn is nearly unbearable. I fight back a moan, knowing I need to move, to get in a better position, but I’m paralyzed by the pain.

  My pulse quickens as I tug at my arms. An irrational desire to remove the pain from my flesh with my knife makes me bite my lip. I open my mouth in a silent scream as I claw at my forearms.

  Pressing back against the wall, I hardly flinch when the second floor erupts with fire, bubbling the paint off the concrete block wall. I can feel the residual heat but it can’t compete with the internal agony crawling up toward my chest.

  “Cease fire!” The commanding alien holds up his hand. The device at his shoulder comes alive. “Roof structure compromised. Unsafe to land.”

  I lean my head back against the wall to peer through a second floor window. The moon disappears directly overhead as the Sky Ship moves away.

  The Squaddies inch forward, obviously anxious for a fight. I can see it on their faces. There is a wild gleam in their eyes, lit by the crackling fires all around.

  “Commander Drakon? What are your orders, sir?” I bite down on my lip as the pain vines up my arms, twisting around my elbows. I strain to listen to the Gentry’s answer but his words sound jumbled in my mind.

  I watch as Drakon tilts his head to the side and contemplates the walkway. His gaze darts across the wide, silent expanse. It has been nearly a minute since Bastien launched anything over the side. “He’s out of ammo. Attack!”

  Drakon turns on his heel and marches toward the front of the factory as his men rush forward, clumping in two small groups as they hurl some sort of rope and metal claw up over the ledge. I know I should do something to help Bastien but I can’t think past the agony winding its way up toward my shoulders.

  As the first two men begin to climb, I lurch to my feet. I have to do something. Anything. Commander Drakon turns to
watch when he reaches the overturned reception desk as his men scramble up black ropes. More Squaddies arrive at the door, but he holds up his hand and they fall back.

  A tall alien with a wide mustache calls back over his shoulder from the base of the rope, “Shoot to kill?”

  I lean around the machine, desperate to see his commander’s response but I don’t need to. Judging by maniacal grin that stretches across the soldier’s face, he got the answer he was hoping for.

  Anger tears through me, rippling through muscle and bone. I can physically feel it, boiling and visceral in my belly. As the first two aliens slip over the ledge, disappearing from sight, I hear a guttural scream from above.

  I lose control.

  When I step out into the light, I’m shaking from head to foot. The scalding energy bubbling within me is excruciating. Sweat streams down my brow, stinging my eyes but I barely notice it. “Get away from him!”

  An alien plummets head first from the backside of the second floor. I hear his neck snap and he slumps over, unmoving. The sound of fighting on the second floor escalates.

  The cluster of aliens at the bottom of the ropes turns and centers their targets on my heart. “There’s another one!”

  Drakon comes at me in a sprint, but I perceive everything in slow motion. The staircase overhead rattles. Nuts and bolts spring in all directions as it peels away from the second floor. The aliens cast terrified glances over my head but I don’t focus on them. All I can feel is the pain mingling with my rage, seeping from my very pores. I have to save Bastien.

  Another alien falls from the second floor but I hardly take notice this time; I’m blinded by six laser guns as they hum to life, charged and lethal. The screeching of metal muffles my scream as the staircase rips away from the wall. My fingers curl inward like claws as I raise my arms over my head. I feel the weight of the stairs hovering overhead but I don’t stop to consider how this is even possible. I just react.

  My vision darkens as I thrust my arms out toward the aliens. The metal staircase slams into the first group, while the second barely has time to turn before they’re broadsided. Sparks fly as the stairs hurtle across the floor, pinning Squaddies as it goes until it slams into the far wall in a twisted heap and a sickening crunch.

  The heat vanishes from my fingers, suddenly and completely. I slump to the floor, gasping for breath as pain carves into my chest. Sweat clings to my body like a second skin, sticky and oppressive. My anger fades with each labored pant. Weakened, I rise slowly to my feet to face off with Drakon.

  “Who are you?” he asks, eyes wide.

  I can feel the weighted stares of the soldiers as they appear at his back, resigned to follow their commander’s barked order to remain back. I wipe my brow, feeling the sting of sweat in my eyes.

  “Who are you?” he demands again, taking a step closer.

  I raise my hand and he pauses. I know the pain is gone and the anger has fled but he doesn’t. “Stay back.”

  He moves backward three steps, eyeing me with a mixture of awe and something else. Something shrewd and calculating. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “Like I’m going to believe you.” I struggle to keep my voice strong.

  “You have my word.”

  I shift my stance slightly and dart a glance over my shoulder. I find Bastien peering down at me from over the ledge. A wide bloody gash has opened over his right eye and the other looks like it’s going to be swollen shut by morning.

  I glance back at Drakon, noting that he has inched closer. I glare at him. “Will you let my friend and me leave?”

  It’s easy to read the bloodlust in the eyes of the aliens behind him, but the commander has a far more potent expression. The color of his eyes shifts, taking on the appearance of dark molasses. I know I have to be careful. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that. There are…rules against letting humans run free.”

  “Figured you’d say that,” I mutter and take a step back. A Squaddie breaks out of rank behind Drakon and aims his laser directly at my chest. I stare into the core of his gun, at the core that swirls beautiful green instead of crimson. It is mesmerizingly beautiful.

  “Duck!” Bastien screams from overhead.

  Brilliant emerald light slices through the air toward me. I drop to the ground, landing with enough force to bruise my ribs. I clutch my side as I roll and notice the burn mark on the wall where my head had been only seconds before.

  I throw out my hands and shove the nearest machine right at the squadron of soldiers. Drakon grunts and dives to the side just before it hits. The sound of screams and breaking bones fills the room as I scramble to my feet. “Run, Bastien!”

  I spin and sprint for the back of the warehouse, straight for the gaping hole in the back of the factory. I can hear Bastien’s feet pounding on the second floor and catch a brief glimpse of him as he rounds the far stairwell and thunders up to the third floor.

  I pause to search for Drakon. Blood drips down from his temple and his nose is bent at a crooked angle. His hands clench into fists at his side. I’ve never seen such evil before, such unrepentant fury.

  I turn and run for my life.