by Aaron Hodges
Neighbourhoods like Jocelyn’s.
Sam advanced across the room, fists clenched as she backed away. “You’ve…what have you done?”
The woman shook her head, eyes wide. “No, we never, please I swear, he told you the truth.”
“How do you know what he told us?” Sam growled.
All of a sudden the strength seemed to flee the woman, and she sagged against the bed with a heavy exhalation. “I lied,” she offered, her voice barely a whisper, “He came by yesterday, told me what he was going to do, about the Mad Women. He told me to stay put, in case things went wrong, but he said someone would come and collect us.”
Sam shook his head, the tension slowly going from him. Watching her, he didn’t think she was lying this time. He let out a long breath, his mind going over the new information, considering the implications. It might not be so bad. Obviously the apartment hadn’t been under surveillance then, or they would have arrested the doctor immediately. They couldn’t have a traitor running around the city, blabbing to whoever would listen…
“Oh no,” Sam breathed.
Turning on his heel, he started towards the door, before reconsidering. Moving back, he grabbed Jocelyn and hauled her out with him. The other men looked up as he emerged, the doctor’s wife limp in his grip.
“Get the kids,” Sam ordered, already moving towards the door.
But the two boys had just emerged from the bedroom, little backpacks hung over their shoulders, blonde hair dangling in their faces. They looked around and saw Sam’s face, his wings half extended, and darted into their mother’s arms.
“What’s the rush?” James asked, his voice raised, “The van should be just pulling in.”
Ignoring him, Sam pushed Jocelyn towards the door. “Come on, get moving! Do you want your family to live? It’s only a matter of time before they come back!”
“Come back?” James called from behind them. “Sam, what’s going on?”
Sam shoved the terrified family into the elevator and faced the men, his arm holding the door open. He shook his head. “Get them to the van, there’s no time to explain,” he took his radio from his belt and waved it in their faces, “I’ll keep in touch. Keep them safe, James. Especially the kids.”
Then he was running back into the apartment, past the perfect white sofa and sleek tiled floors, to the sliding door leading out onto the balcony. It was only a little thing, big enough for a hammock and little else. Tall railings made sure the children couldn’t climb over, but they were no barrier to Sam. Without hesitating, he leapt over the side, his copper wings snapping open to catch the air.
The muscles along his back strained and his wings beat down, carrying him higher. Below, treetops flashed past as he raced through the suburbs. Condos dotted the neighbourhood, towering alongside vast mansion and individual houses. Trees lined the roads below, their fresh green leaves providing shelter against anyone who might be breaking curfew. Not that Sam was concerned about being spotted.
It had taken him fifteen minutes to fly from the safehouse to the condominium.
He made it back in ten, but he was still too late.
Chapter 11
Liz wandered along the corridor after Maria, still wondering what the old woman wanted. She peered into the rooms as they moved past, taking in the safehouse’s occupants as they prepared for the coming fight. Half of them were members of the Mad Women, driven from their homes by the threat of government persecution. Yet despite their advanced years, they did not seem daunted. They worked alongside the rural refugees and other disillusioned citizens—young and old working in concert, united by their desire for change.
The whole house was a hive of activity. In one room, Liz glimpsed a frightening array of weapons being readied. Men and women were busy taking rifles from a heavy case that had been brought with them from Mike’s safehouse. They were handed around to those preparing the ammunition, and then placed on a rack, ready for use. There were also several handguns on a table, and to Liz’s horror, what looked like a belt of grenades.
In other rooms, people were busy packing clothing and supplies. Those who weren’t coming with them were to be moved to a new location. There they would be safe if the mission failed, or if any of them were captured.
Finally, Maria led Liz into the dining room and waved for her to take a seat at the table. Liz eyed Maria for a moment before taking her place, still uncomfortable in the woman’s presence. Putting her hands in her pockets, Liz watched as Chris’s grandmother sat down across the table from her.
“You loved him,” Maria said abruptly.
Liz jumped at the announcement, her mouth falling open, before snapping closed it again. She shivered, seeing the sadness in the crinkles around the old woman’s face, the downward turn of her lips.
Slowly, Liz nodded. “I did.”
“I’m glad he had someone, before...” Maria’s voice cracked.
Liz licked her lips, lost for words, but the old woman only smiled and shook her head. Her eyes shimmered, but no tears fell.
“It seems my family is destined for heartbreak,” Maria murmured. “First my husband, then Chris’s father, now Chris. Anyone would think we were cursed.”
Liz smiled. “I don’t think that, Maria,” she looked down, before continuing, “if Chris…dying…is anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”
“No,” Liz looked up at the sharpness in Maria’s tone. The old woman stared back at her, the tears gone, eyes hard now. “You cannot blame yourself, Liz. It was that spiteful woman who took my grandson from me, not you. Your only crime was loving him.”
Despite herself, Liz smiled at the old woman’s fierceness. “Crime?”
Maria waved a hand. “An old expression, my dear,” she sighed, “I just mean, I can see the truth—that you feel you need to be punished for losing him. It’s not true. You’re a brave girl, but that’s not your burden to bare, Liz.”
Liz looked away, her own vision blurring. “We should never have gone there,” she murmured, staring at the striped grain of the wooden table.
“Nonsense.” Maria shot back, “You were right, we had to act. We couldn’t keep standing around with our hands in our pockets. The longer this fight goes on, the more time they have to crush us. You might not have gotten the knockout blow you wanted, but we got the bullet that will end them. Now we just need the gun to fire it.”
Silently, Liz toyed with the pendrive in her pocket. Gritting her teeth, she looked up at Maria. “Then why are we delaying now? Why not force this Doctor Jones to tell us where she’s hiding?”
Maria leaned back in her chair and stared at her. “If that’s what you truly want to do, Liz, I won’t stop you,” she said.
Liz quickly looked away, unable to meet Maria’s gaze. She remembered the soldier in the alleyway, the one who had died screaming in her hands, and bit her lip. “What I want doesn’t matter,” she answered softly, “It’s what’s necessary.”
Maria sighed. “And what about Chris?” she countered, “Would he want you to do this?”
“Doesn’t really matter now, does it?” Liz said, standing suddenly, lips pulled back in a snarl, “He’s gone.”
“Maybe, but…”
Maria trailed off as Liz suddenly raised her hand and turned towards the window. Staring out into the darkness, Liz held her breath, waiting. Her ears twitched as she heard something; the soft whisper of something strangely out of place. Slowly she shook her head. Was Sam back already?
“What is it?” Maria asked.
Outside, a sudden flash lit up the front yard. Liz was already spinning on her heel as the first bullet shattered the window and went shrieking through the room. A second followed as Liz tackled Maria from her chair. It slammed into the kitchen table, splintering the wood like paper as the two of them crashed to the linoleum floor.
Then the whole world turned to thunder.
The outside wall exploded into pieces as a barrage of bullets sliced their way through, hammering into the table
and chairs. The shriek of their passage was deafening, amplified by the crash of breaking glass and splintering wood. On the other side of the room, the high calibre rounds made short work of the drywall, tearing their way through into the hallway beyond.
From the ground, Liz caught a glimpse of a man standing in the entrance to the hall. His body jerked as blood blossomed from his chest. Eyes wide, he coughed blood and began to lift a hand to the wound, before two more bullets sent him tumbling back.
Clenching her eyes shut, Liz pressed Maria flat against the floorboards, her wings spread to shield them from the flying splinters and glass. There was nothing she could do about the bullets, but so far, they seemed to be aiming at chest height. Silently she waited for a break in the fire.
When it came, she leapt to her feet, dragging Maria with her. Together they stumbled across the room, Liz cursing as broken glass cut her bare feet.
Half-carrying Maria down the hallway, she staggered towards the backdoor. They stumbled over a bullet-ridden body, then another. Dust drifted in the air as the sole remaining lightbulb dangled from its cord, sending light scattering across the hallway. Liz counted five bodies by the time they reached the corner in the corridor. She had seen no sign of Mira or Jasmine, and silently she prayed they had gone into the treehouse to sleep.
As they reached the corner, Liz glanced back, her ears picking up the sound of movement. She squinted through the dust towards the dining room, wondering if someone had survived. But as another crunch followed, she recognised the familiar thump of combat boots. Cursing, she gathered Maria over her shoulder.
“Wait!” Maria gasped desperately, struggling in her grasp, “The doctor!”
Liz paused with sudden indecision. Just around the corner, the back door waited, their only way out now. Although what was waiting on the other side, she couldn’t say. Glancing back the way they’d come, she listened for the sound of the approaching boots. They had a few seconds yet, but she’d passed the doctor’s room.
Cursing, she gathered herself and bounded back down the hallway. Dodging into the doctor’s room, she hunched her shoulders, expecting the roar of gunfire, but the strained silence continued.
Unfortunately, the doctor’s room had not been spared. The walls were riddled with holes, the dust thick in the air, the windows shattered. Outside, Liz could see flashlight beams as men approached the building.
Ducking low, she set Maria down. Her keen eyes swept the gloom, and found the body lying propped up against a set of bunks. His chest had been torn open, although a streak on the floor showed where he had dragged himself from the middle of the room. He wasn’t moving now, though.
“He’s dead, let’s go,” Liz said quickly, but Maria was already up and moving towards the ruined man.
As she knelt beside the body, the doctor coughed. Blood gushed from his chest as something rattled at the back of his throat.
Leaning over, Maria gripped him by the shirt. “Listen to me, Jones.” To Liz’s surprise, her voice was devoid of compassion. “Tell me where she’s hiding.”
The doctor coughed again, his head lolling on his shoulders as Maria shook him. Liz watched, lips pursed. She was shocked the man was still alive, but with that hole in his chest it wouldn’t be long now. Maria dragged him up, and a half-muffled shriek tore from the man’s throat.
“Where is she?” Maria growled.
The doctor groaned, a long, drawn out hiss whistling from his throat. For a moment it seemed as though he had spoken, but the exhalation went on and on, until it died away to nothing. As the last whisper of his breath faded, the doctor’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped sideways in Maria’s hands.
Releasing him, Maria made her way back to Liz in a half-crouch. Liz raised an eyebrow at the old woman, but Maria only shook her head and continued to the doorway. She moved confidently now, seeming to have recovered from the initial shock of the attack, although she kept her eyes carefully averted from the bodies in the corridor. But before they could reach the corner, she diverted into another room.
“Maria,” Liz hissed, glancing back towards the dining room, where the crunch of boots on glass was growing closer. There was no doubt now—the soldiers were in the house. They had just seconds before the soldiers reached the doorway at the end of the hallway and saw them. In the narrow corridor, they couldn’t miss the two escaping women.
A moment later, Maria re-emerged, carrying a handgun in one hand and a spare clip in the other. More shocking still, she had slung the belt of grenades over her shoulder.
Liz raised an eyebrow. “Ah…” but her words deserted her as Maria strode past, the hint of a smile on her lips.
“Let’s go, Liz,” the old woman whispered back.
Moving quickly, they turned the corner in the corridor, taking them out of view from the dining room. The back door loomed ahead, but as Liz stepped towards it and reached for the handle, Maria pulled her back.
“Wait,” she said. Reaching up, she took a grenade from the belt and studied it for a moment before handing it to Liz.
Liz stared at it for half a second before accepting it with cautious hands. She swallowed, looking from the grenade to Maria. It looked different from the ones she’d seen in the movies; more like a steel cylinder than the typical ball-shaped grenades. The pin at the top was familiar though.
“If memory serves, that’s a flash grenade,” Maria murmured, casting a nervous glance behind them, “If there’s anyone out there watching, they’re probably using night vision goggles. That should blind them long enough for us to get away.”
Nodding, Liz took a breath. “How do we get you away?” If it came to it, she thought she might be able to fly with the old woman, but it would take a long time to get airborne. They would make easy targets.
“There’s a getaway car, one block over,” Maria replied, “We just have to get through the back fence and across the neighbouring property. The keys are in the sun visor.”
“Okay.” Liz gripped the grenade tightly in her hand. Swallowing, she nodded to the door. “You open the door, I’ll throw.”
“Don’t forget the pin,” Maria whispered as she grasped of the door handle.
Liz tore the pin from the grenade as Maria hauled the door open. A shout came from outside, but Liz had already hurled the grenade. Maria dropped to the ground beside Liz as gunshots rang out.
Then a brilliant flash of light erupted through the backyard.
Fortunately, Liz had already looked away and closed her eyes, but even so, she could feel the brilliant light through her eyelids. Stars danced across her vision as she opened her eyes, but they quickly faded to shadows as she looked around.
Outside, someone was screaming, and she grinned at their small victory. But there was no time to enjoy it, and picking Maria up, she slung the old woman over her shoulder. Breath held, half-expecting a dozen bullets to riddle her body, Liz leapt outside.
Silence greeted her. Struggling to contain her relief, Liz raced across the dewy grass. Maria barely weighed a hundred-twenty-pounds—nothing for her enhanced strength, and she crossed the backyard in two heartbeats. The tall wooden fence loomed, but she didn’t even bother stretching her wings. Bounding forward, she tensed her legs, and sprang, her powerful quads sending her soaring over the seven-foot fence.
Her feet crashed down on the other side with a squelching thud, sinking slightly into the soft earth, but she pulled herself out and ran on, hardly breaking stride. She felt Maria begin to struggle on her back and heard a half-muffled curse—something about putting her down—but they weren’t clear yet. Liz could carry Maria far faster than the old woman could run.
The lights were off in the neighbour’s house, but Liz recalled from earlier flights it was occupied. She kept her head low as she raced past the windows, though she doubted anyone would be venturing outside. They could not have missed the gunshots. They’d probably switched off the lights and were huddling somewhere inside, praying whoever was shooting left them alone.
Too bad they had us for neighbours, Liz thought wryly.
Ducking beneath a low-lying tree, she moved into the front yard. A bricked courtyard stretched out around her, free of weeds and moss. The owners obviously took great care to maintain their property. On the other side of the courtyard, a row of tall oaks marked the boundary with the road. She moved quickly towards them, glimpsing the dim sheen of a car beyond their wide trunks.
As she moved into the middle of the courtyard, two of the trees seemed to shift, as two soldiers stepped from the shadows. Liz froze, praying they hadn’t seen her, but the click of safeties being released shattered her thin hope. The two raised their rifles, though neither said a word. Weighed down by Maria, exposed in the middle of the courtyard, Liz was too far away to reach them. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes, and thought of Chris.
A soft thud and hard thwack followed. Her eyes snapped open, and she gaped as Jasmine and Mira strode towards her. The soldiers now lay slumped on the ground behind them. Grinning, Jasmine raised an eyebrow.
“You really are getting slack, Liz,” she smirked.
Liz let out a long sigh, relief flooding her as she smiled back. “Thank you, Jasmin–”
Bang.
The words died in her throat as a gunshot rang out. Jasmine’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open. She swayed, looking down at the blood blossoming from her chest. Her green wings, still extended, trembled as she looked back at Liz, fear in her eyes.
With a scream, Mira threw herself at the man on the ground. Barely conscious, he had somehow managed to swing his rifle around and point it at Jasmine’s back. Before he could fire again, Mira tore it from his hands and embedded it in his face.
