The nearest soldier, startled, didn’t fare much better. He swung at me, but I ducked under the club, shattering his kneecap with a punch and finishing him off with a massive uppercut that knocked him into the far wall.
The crowd screamed in disbelief as I dispatched the final two attackers by slamming their heads together. I knelt down to a barely conscious and bloodied Abby. I tried to free her of the inhibitor band, but it had fused to her.
“Thanks, Tommy.” A small smile played on her lips. “I had them right where I wanted them.”
“You made my job easy.”
“Go get Powell. Kick him once for me.”
“We’re friends, I’ll kick him twice.” I laid her head back gently. I needed to find Dad fast. He’d been one-on-one with Powell the whole time, but something amazing happened. The shield above the arena cut off. The audience shrieked in panic.
Desmond’s voice came over the PA system. “Please keep calm, we’ve had a technical difficulty with the shield. It will be restored momentarily.”
Marcel. He did it. He shut down the Megadrome’s security system. I needed a distraction, so they would have to handle it instead of getting the system back online.
I destroyed the unmanned cameras, targeting each in turn. The explosions turned the crowd into a fleeing mob. Screams of pain floated down as people climbed over each other to get away. I shot out a couple lights, the cascade of sparks adding to the panic until it was a full-out riot.
I barked out an evil-sounding chuckle and ran toward the sound of the last fight. I crossed over a barricade and jumped to the hood of a demolished car that overlooked the battle. Powell had fresh scorch marks on his arm and torso, but the damage appeared minimal. I’d seen corpses in better shape than Dad was. Blood dripped from multiple slashes across his body. Powell’s right arm ended in a nasty, bloody, combat dagger.
Powell charged, swinging the knife in an overhand slice. Dad dodged, barely getting out of the way in time. Powell delivered a vicious kick to Dad’s knee. He fell to the ground, clutching his leg, teeth gritted against the pain. A second kick struck as I ran. Dad’s head jerked back as the boot connected with the side of his head, knocking him cold.
“It ends now!” Powell bellowed as he stabbed downward at his immobile target. I tackled him halfway through his swing, toppling him to the ground. I sprang to my feet, a move Blaze had spent hours drilling it into my head.
Powell smiled. “I’ve been wanting this almost as much as offing your old man.”
“I torched you once, Powell.” I gritted my teeth, biting off every word. “I’m back to finish the job. When I’m done, there won’t be enough left to make into a Nintendo, let alone a cyborg.”
His left arm machine gun fired without warning. A couple of the bullets hit me, but I was ready. I rode the wave of pain and fired a bolt of pure energy back at him. He moved faster than I would have thought; obviously the enhancements had increased his speed.
“I figured after the jumper cables didn’t do the job, you were some sort of absorber.”
I fired a second blast, knocking him down, but barely damaged him. “Carbinium exoskeleton. Gonna have to do better than that, boy.”
He flicked his arm, and a spiraling disc hit just before me. The blast stunned me. I tried to run but stumbled and fell on a piece of debris. My balance failed me as the bullets started. A solid stream hit me in the chest. My suit shredded under the raining shots. The pain flared to an incredible level. I forced myself through it, but I had another problem. I absorbed the energy from the hits, magnifying it. It built up to the point where I thought my head would blow off like a shaken pop bottle. I wanted to fire it at Powell, but Mom hung directly behind him and I couldn’t risk hitting her.
“What’s wrong, Slag, can’t handle a little extra energy?” Powell’s mocking voice came over the noise from the machine gun. “Come on, Slag. Let me have it!”
I screamed as the pain intensified. I could feel the energy growing faster than ever before. I couldn’t hold any more, so I shoved my hands straight up and unleashed every ounce of built up energy. The top of the Megadrome erupted as all the energy hit it, vaporizing about half and throwing the other half in every direction as chunks. The machine gun silenced as it ran out of ammo.
The energy ebbed as it flowed out of me. I laid there completely spent. I couldn’t have powered a lightbulb with the power I had left. Powell knelt down over me. The knife hovered in front of my face. He smiled his sick smile at me.
“Impressive.” Sarcasm dripped off his words. “Now I’m gonna end you, then I’m gonna kill your girl. After that, I’m gonna take your pretty, smart-mouthed mama and give her to my men before I slit her throat like a pig. Then we will be even.”
I spat in his face. “I’m sure your wife and daughter would be so proud of what you’ve become.”
Powell’s smile turned into a snarl. “You shut your mouth, boy, or I’ll make that little girl of yours suffer even worse.”
A glint caught my eye. The seam where Powell’s left arm joined his torso had torn in the fighting. The wires were exposed. I needed one more burst of energy, but I had nothing left.
“Burned yourself out, didn’t ya?” He snickered. “I’ll give ya this, kid, you’re a scrapper. Too bad you bein’ a Slag and all, I could use men like you.”
Then it hit me. The ring. I pushed the ring Mr. Fix-it had given me into the exposed flesh on my leg. The shock zoomed through my depleted body. I grabbed the wires and sent a surge of power through.
Powell’s face distorted in fear. His systems went haywire as the energy overloaded his circuitry. He lurched to his feet and fell over a fallen Reclaimer with a mighty clang. He jerked back and forth as the systems shut down.
“What did you do?” he screamed. “I won! I beat you all!”
I stood over him. I should do what he would have done to me in the same place, but I could see the broken man my dad had spared. I headed to set Mom free and get everyone out before reinforcements could arrive.
“You are gutless, Ward,” Powell screamed, spit flying out of his mouth. “Kill me like a man.”
“You aren’t worth my time.”
“They took my family, so I’ll take yours!” he shrieked as a single gunshot fired.
The whole world slowed. The bullet streaked toward Mom. A blur pushed her aside. Instead, the bullet struck Wendi in the head. Her body had been speeding when the bullet hit; she careened out of control, bouncing down the pile of rubble.
“NO!” I ran to her. The bullet had punched straight through her head. Her suit had torn, and blood flowed, splattering the broken building pieces on the way down. “Oh my God, Wendi!” I pulled her into my lap, rocking back and forth. I should have killed him, and none of this would have happened.
I heard Powell’s insane laughter from where he laid. “What’s wrong, Tommy? Girlfriend lose her head?”
I laid her down. I should have killed him before. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. I leapt onto a car headed to kill Wendi’s murderer. A flash of light hit Powell in the back of the head, exploding it like an overripe watermelon. Dad hobbled into view. He looked tired, but he still lived.
I went back to Wendi, and Mom sat with her, holding her lifeless hand. She rose as I approached, hugging me fiercely. “Tommy, I am so sorry,” she said. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come.
“Tommy,” Dad called. “We’ve got to get everyone out of here. They are bringing in reinforcements.”
I pulled gently away from Mom. I picked up Wendi’s lifeless body and walked to where Dad waited to fly us out of the arena. We had won, but the cost had been far greater than I ever thought.
41
I stood in the middle of the field. The coffin suspended before us held the person I loved more than anything in the world. Her last act saved my mom, a debt I could never repay. Mom stood on one side; on the other stood my dad, still using a cane while his knee healed.
Abby, Gladiator, an
d Alyx sat next to Wendi’s mom, who cried softly in the background. The priest had finished the service. We were the last of the small group of mourners to pay our final respects. Jon couldn’t be found. Her own twin had deserted her, but my inability to kill Powell resulted in her death.
Mom and Dad laid roses on the lid of the coffin. I still held mine. As soon as I placed mine on the lid, she would be truly gone forever, buried in the land where she had been born seventeen short years ago. It wasn’t fair. Mom rubbed my arm on her way by.
“Wendi, I’m sorry. I let you down. I failed. If I had only done what I should have, you would be here. I love you, and I already miss you more than I could ever believe possible. I’m sorry.” Tears filled my eyes, rolling down my cheeks as I spoke. I set the rose on the lid and watched the coffin lower into the ground. Never again would I see her sparkling blue eyes, kiss her tender lips, hold her hand. The hole in my heart grew as I stood there.
Mom moved me away from the gravesite as everyone returned to the house. I headed up the stairs to what had once been her room and closed the door behind me. Her presence was still here, even though nothing in the room was hers. I sat on the bed, eyes closed, soaking in the last of her love. Remembering our time together, how she kissed me, the jokes we shared, our one amazing night together. I had accomplished what I had set out to do but lost the person I loved. I wondered, not for the last time, if it had been worth it.
Two envelopes sat on the bed. One had the word “Tommy” written in Wendi’s hand, and the other was blank. I opened the one from Wendi.
Tommy,
If you are reading this, I am gone. I hope that we saved your mom and dad. I wanted to thank you. You were always there for me when things went bad. I have felt alone since I was sent to Redemption until I met you.
Please don’t blame yourself for me being gone. Things happen for a reason that we can’t always know. The thing to remember is I loved you more than I could ever tell you. Our time together meant everything to me. When you were gone, it was if the color went out of my world. I know we will be together again, that our love will never die.
Love,
Wendi
After I pulled myself together, I opened the second envelope, unfolding the letter.
Ward,
Wendi left letters for us in my things. She asked me to make sure it got to you. I would do anything for her, so I delivered it as she asked.
My sister is dead because of you. If you had taken care of Powell instead of walking away, she would be alive. In Wendi’s memory, I give you this one warning. The next time I see you, I will kill you.
I folded the letters and laid back on her bed, feeling her warmth around me. I fell asleep, knowing I’d have a lot to deal with, but it could wait until tomorrow.
Acknowledgments
The book you are holding is the fruit of many individuals that contributed their time and insight into taking a rough tale and turning it into a polished story. It was a long and winding road to finish this book.
The first person who helped set the foundation was Carol, who pointed out flaws in the structure of the book. Without her I’m not sure I’d have ever got the story down. Next were my Gifted team that beta read the book and offered frank assessments that helped strengthen the story. They are Chuck, Jon, Regis, Catherine, Cheri and Joe. If I’ve missed anyone it is completely unintentional. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Mike M. has listened to book ideas since 9th grade and now it actually is here.
After a long search John Hartness of Falstaff books gave me the opportunity to have Storm Forged published. My Editor Erin Penn is simply amazing, pointing out oversights and places to add depth to the story that has taken it to the next level. Melissa Gilbert hammered it into the final book and Davey Beauchamp provided an amazing cover.
Most of all I’d like to thank my family. My parents always said you could do anything you set your mind to and were right. Emily and Nicholas have been an inspiration every day since they were born. Both have contributions to the story, some intentional, some not. Emily was my first beta reader and Nicholas was my teen age boy coach. Emerson, our dog, kept me company many a late nights. And last but not least is my wife and best friend Hope who has put up with late nights of writing/editing, had to listen to endless prattle over minor issues, deal with the stressful and grumpy days and yet still is amazingly supportive and loving.
About the Author
Patrick Dugan was born in the far north of New York, where the cold winds blow. This meant lots of time for reading over the long winters. His parents didn’t care what he read as long as he did. This started with a steady diet of comics and science fiction novels.
After two degrees and lots of odd jobs ranging from Blockbuster Video manager to Lab Researcher to running a video game arcade, Charlotte, NC beckoned. Packing up his dog sled he headed for warmer climes and a lot less snow. Still a voracious reader, he read all sorts of great books. Rothfuss, Butcher, Duncan, Sanderson, Hobb, Farland and Feist sparked his imagination and he started writing horribly. Bad short stories and worse novels would follow. Thankfully these are nowhere to be found.
A husband and father of two great kids and one opinionated dog, Patrick works as a software engineer by day before his author shifts on nights and weekends. When he’s not writing, Patrick enjoys brewing and drinking craft beers, watching Science Fiction & Fantasy movies/shows and building things out of wood and metal for use around the house.
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