Wonder Woman: Warbringer

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Wonder Woman: Warbringer Page 20

by Leigh Bardugo


  “Ben’s coming,” said Jason. “We need to get to the park.”

  Thank all the gods. They had a chance. But the only way out was the wall of shattered windows to their left, and it was far too exposed. Diana couldn’t be a shield for everyone, and all it would take was a single stray bullet, the right moment, the right angle. She couldn’t let that happen. They needed cover. A lot of it. She touched her hand to the temple stone and wondered if she was strong enough to do what she was imagining.

  “I can give you enough cover to make a break for the glass wall. I’ll meet you below.”

  Alia gripped her arm, her eyes bright with fear. “You’re not coming?”

  “They’re barricading the rest of the guests in. I won’t leave innocent people here to die.”

  “Diana—”

  “Stay with Jason; he’ll keep you safe.”

  “They’re too well armed,” said Theo. “You won’t make it.”

  “Stay low. When I give the signal, you bolt for the closest corner of the window wall.”

  “How will we know—” Alia said.

  “Trust me, you’ll know. This temple is coming down, and you need to be on the other side of it when it does.”

  Jason offered her his gun. “At least take this.”

  She lifted a brow. She was not afraid of these men, only of the harm they might do others, and she would not resort to playing with their ugly toys. “I’m going to choose to ignore this insult, Jason Keralis. Now go.”

  As soon as they were moving, Diana wedged her shoulder against the wall of the temple. She thrust her weight against the ancient stones, her battered muscles straining, feeling every aching spot where a bullet had struck. She dug her feet into the slate floor, reaching for strength that seemed just out of her grasp. What if she’d reached the limits of her might and she couldn’t protect them? No. She refused that thought. She sucked in a breath and doubled her effort, grunting with the strain, the threads of her dress popping.

  “I am never wearing anything without straps again,” she growled.

  Something in the temple creaked. Diana whispered a quick prayer to the goddesses, begging that they would seek Isis’s forgiveness on her behalf, and pushed. The stone beneath her palms shuddered.

  “Now!” she shouted.

  The temple collapsed with a thunderous roar, sending a huge plume of dust into the air. She drove her legs forward, and the wide heap of stone groaned as it slid into place, blocking off the northwest corner of the window wall—the perfect barricade to keep the soldiers at bay as Alia and the others escaped.

  But now the party guests were shouting and running, crowding up against the sealed doorways. She needed a battering ram. Her eyes lit on one of the fallen pillars of the temple. It was huge and unevenly weighted, the stone rough beneath her palms, but she managed to balance the column in her arms. She didn’t know what the soldiers had erected to keep the exit doors shut, but she was going through.

  “Move or be crushed!” she commanded as she launched herself toward the exit, surprised by the authority that rang through her voice. Well, she thought, all those years listening to Tek give orders ought to be good for something.

  It seemed to work because the crowd scrambled to get clear.

  She tightened her grip and drove the pillar into the doors. They gave way with a terrible crash, scattering the wall of sandbags the men had erected behind them. Diana’s momentum carried her into the hallway, past stunned men in body armor. She released the pillar, and it slammed into the wall.

  Partygoers poured toward the confused soldiers as Diana tried to fight the tide back to the temple room. One of the men stepped into her path, gun raised.

  “Who do you fight for?” he demanded. His hair was so blond it was nearly white and cropped close to his head. She grabbed him by the throat and the wrist and shoved him against the wall, knocking the weapon from his hands.

  “Get out of my way.”

  She strode past him, but he seized her arm. “Our cause is just,” he said pleadingly. “Stop her. The Warbringer must die before the reaping moon. You cannot know the horrors that will be unleashed.”

  “She’s a girl, and she deserves a chance,” Diana said, and wondered if she was pleading her own case, too.

  “Not at this price.”

  “Who are you to make such a calculation?”

  “Who are you?” said the soldier.

  Diana gazed into his determined blue eyes. He was right. She was gambling with the future of the world. Under other circumstances, they might have been allies.

  “Whoever your leader is,” she said, “tell him there’s another way. There’s a cure, and we’re going to find it.”

  “You’re mad,” he said. “The Warbringer must be stopped.”

  Maybe she was, but her choice was made. Diana slammed the soldier back against the wall. “Then try and stop us.”

  She ran past him, racing toward the window wall. She heard him shout, “Blow it! If we can’t get the Warbringer, we can get her bodyguard.”

  From somewhere, she heard a tiny click, a button pressed, a fuse catching. She vaulted over the ruins of the temple, launching herself through the window wall. From behind her she heard an earsplitting explosion and felt a wave of heat at her back. It thrust her forward through the air. Her arms pinwheeled at her sides as the force of the bomb carried her too far too fast.

  Alia’s lungs burned as she stumbled across East Drive, dodging the Saturday-night traffic, the screech of brakes and blaring car horns registering in rapid flashes as panic careened through her. She was aware of Nim’s hand in hers, of the painful slap of her soles against the pavement. Then they were on the other side of the road and tumbling into the park. She tripped and fell as her feet struck the softness of green grass.

  A boom sounded behind them, and Alia turned to see a cloud of flame blooming like an angry flower from the museum’s flank before the petals curled in on themselves and the explosion receded.

  Diana.

  Nim was pulling on her arm. Jason was shouting. She told her feet to move, but she couldn’t stop staring at the flaming wreck of the room where they’d just been, still lit by the museum’s outdoor floodlights, as if no one had yet realized what was happening. But already she could hear sirens, see people pulling over to the side of the road. Where was Diana? If she’d made it out, she should be trailing after them, she should be crossing the road right now. But she wasn’t. Maybe she hadn’t made it. Maybe she was lying broken in the ruins of the temple. Maybe she’d been captured.

  “Alia, we have to move. Now.” Jason seized her wrist and pulled her after them.

  Alia cast a last look over her shoulder, and then they were charging through the trees, crashing toward the baseball diamonds. Jason was yelling into his cell phone as the Great Lawn came into view.

  Alia heard a teeth-rattling shriek, and Jason threw his arms out. “Stop!”

  “Holy crap,” said Nim as a jet roared overhead, impossibly close, wheels brushing the tops of the trees.

  They put up their hands as the wind battered them with a hail of dust and tiny pebbles. The jet touched down on the wide, empty expanse of the Great Lawn, sending up a fountain of dirt in its wake as the wheels tore into the earth and the plane bobbled wildly.

  “Is there enough room?” Theo asked.

  “The Great Lawn is fifty-five acres,” Nim said.

  “More trivia?” he yelled. “I just want to know if he has enough runway.”

  “This isn’t my kind of runway,” retorted Nim, but her voice was wobbly.

  The little plane slowed, nearing the tree line.

  “He’s not going to make it,” Jason said.

  Alia clapped her hands over her mouth.

  But the plane skidded to a halt mere feet from the trees.

  Theo whooped as the jet turned in a slow, tight circle.

  “Come on,” said Jason.

  As they bolted across the lawn, Alia cast another look back towa
rd the trees, but the park was silent and dark.

  The jet was painted blue and gold, the Keralis Labs logo—a golden K bracketed by laurel leaves—emblazoned on the side. Alia had been on it a few times before. As they drew closer, she could see the deep furrows the jet had left in the lawn.

  The door on the side of the jet opened, and the stairs descended. A burly man with coppery hair leaned out and raised a hand in greeting.

  “I guess the lines are better here than at JFK?” he said. Ben Barrows. He’d been flying with the family a long time. Alia remembered he was former military.

  Jason herded them up the stairs and inside. “How did you do it, Ben?”

  “Talent, grit, and a shit ton of luck,” he said. “Sorry, kids.”

  “We were just shot at,” said Theo, slumping onto one of the banquettes in the lounge area at the front of the plane. “I think our tender ears will survive.”

  “I’m gonna need you to get into a proper seat and buckle up for takeoff. All of you.”

  “Can you get us off the ground?” asked Jason.

  “Yeah, but getting back on it is going to be trickier. We sustained some damage to the landing gear.”

  “How much trickier?”

  “I can handle it. But we need to get out of here or we’re going to have NORAD up our asses. I told Teterboro I needed to make an emergency landing, but they’re going to notice I didn’t reach LaGuardia. We don’t get airborne pronto, we’re not going to make it off the coast.”

  “Everyone, buckle up,” Jason ordered. “Ben, get us in the air.”

  The others obeyed, strapping themselves into the row of seats facing the lounge.

  Ben reached for the handle beside the door, but Alia grabbed his arm.

  “Don’t,” she said. “We can’t just leave her, Jason.”

  Ben hesitated, eyes moving from Alia to her brother.

  Jason pointed at one of the empty seats. “Alia, get your ass in a seat. You saw that explosion—”

  “We’re not leaving without her.”

  “Ben,” said Jason. “Do it.”

  Alia moved to block Ben, but Jason took her by the shoulders, forcing her away from the door and into a seat. Ben yanked the handle down, and the door began to close.

  Jason’s grip was like steel. “Alia,” he said angrily. “Diana was trying to protect you. We’re all trying to protect you. We need to get out of here now or none of us is making it to the other side of this night.”

  The plane lurched forward, and Alia realized Ben was back in the cockpit.

  A burst of gunfire sounded from outside.

  “Um, guys?” said Nim.

  Alia shoved against Jason, and when he didn’t budge she turned and bit his hand. Hard.

  He yelped, and she pushed away from him, scrambling past Theo and Nim to look through Nim’s window, nearly falling against it as the plane rumbled over the uneven terrain, picking up speed.

  Diana was racing across the Great Lawn, blue dress in shreds, dark hair streaming behind her. A group of soldiers exploded from the woods, close on her heels.

  “Jason, she’s coming!” Alia shouted.

  Jason grabbed her arm again, trying to pull her back as the plane picked up speed and Theo and Nim braced themselves against their seats. “Those men are coming after you, Alia. To kill you.”

  Your cause is mine.

  A voice crackled over the radio. “Learjet N-535T, we have emergency vehicles en route to crash site. Please report your status.”

  “Ben, if you take off, you’re fired!” Alia yelled.

  “She can’t fire you!” Jason retorted.

  “He signs the checks,” Ben called over his shoulder.

  “Alia, we have to go!” said Jason.

  “Diana!” Alia shouted pointlessly, face pressed to the window.

  As if she had heard her, Diana put on a burst of speed.

  “Damn,” said Theo. “That girl can run.”

  She almost seemed to be flying, her strides long. Alia could see that the fabric of her gown was singed, and there were welts on her skin, but she seemed whole and unharmed.

  Alia braced her hand against the side of the jet and faced Jason.

  “Open the door,” she demanded.

  “We can’t stop, Alia. There’s not enough runway.”

  The jet jounced along, faster and faster.

  “We need her help to get to the spring!” she insisted.

  And she saw it then. The doubt that flickered over his face. Jason had agreed to go to the spring because he’d wanted to give her hope, but he’d never really believed.

  “Jason, if you don’t open that door, I will find a way to end my life before the new moon. I swear it on our parents’ lives.”

  The words struck him like a slap. Alia almost regretted them, but if that was what it took to make him listen…

  “Damn it,” Jason swore. He strode to the door and yanked down on the handle. Immediately, an alarm began to sound.

  Ben’s voice crackled over the radio. “Don’t know what you’re doing back there, but this is your captain speaking, and he’d like you to cut it the hell out.”

  “Diana!” Alia screamed again. The door opened wider, spreading like a clamshell, the night air rushing through. Alia could see the brightly lit baseball diamonds and Diana hurtling toward the jet.

  She shouted something, but Alia wasn’t sure what. She was waving her arms frantically.

  “Something’s wrong,” Alia cried, then realized it was a ridiculous understatement.

  “No, you idiot,” said Theo. “She’s saying get out of the way.”

  Theo shoved up from his seat and yanked her away from the door just as Diana took two huge strides and leapt, launching herself through the air like a missile. She dove through the door of the plane, tucking into a somersault and slamming hard against the banquette. Gunfire pelted the side of the jet.

  Jason jammed the handle up, and the door started sliding back into place as Alia’s stomach lurched and the jet lifted off. She stumbled backward into Theo, nearly falling into his lap.

  Jason threw her into a seat, hurling himself down beside her, and then they were in the air, climbing.

  Alia heard a horrible crunching sound as the plane jolted and shook. The wheels, she realized. They’d scraped the tops of the trees. She dared to look down through the window as the plane arced over the park. Craning her neck, she could just make out the baseball diamonds, the men standing on the ruin that had been the Great Lawn.

  She blinked, trying to clear her vision. For just a moment she’d thought— But that was impossible. Had she hit her head again? Were the fear and adrenaline playing tricks on her? She thought she’d seen what looked like a chariot drawn by four massive black horses cutting across the field toward the soldiers, floodlights glinting off the driver’s plumed helmet. Alia gave herself a shake. She needed a good night’s sleep. She needed a month of good night’s sleep.

  “Learjet N-535T, you are not cleared for takeoff,” said the voice over the radio. “Report your status.”

  The crackle of static died as Ben switched off the radio. “My status is most likely looking at a career change,” he said. “Everyone okay back there?”

  “You tell me, Ben,” said Jason.

  “We’re in a wait-and-see situation. If we triggered a scramble out of Barnes, we’re going to know pretty quick when they shoot us down.”

  Alia swallowed hard. She peered through the window as the city lights gave way to the vast, unending black of the Atlantic. Would she see death coming? She tried to breathe, to leash her heart rate. Silence enveloped the cabin, the only sound the thrum of the jet’s engines as they all waited, wondering what might be headed toward them in the dark.

  Beside her, she saw that Jason had somehow managed to split his lip during the fight, and the sleeve of his jacket had become almost completely detached. Across the aisle, Theo had his head tipped back and his eyes shut. Alia didn’t know if he was praying or if h
e’d actually fallen asleep. Past him, Alia could see Nim staring straight ahead. Her eyes were ringed with mascara, and there was blood on her jumpsuit; her chest rose and fell in rapid, panicked hitches. Alia wished she could put her arm around her, tell her it would be all right. But that was a lie. Nothing was all right. Maybe nothing would ever be right again.

  Diana had pulled herself onto the cream-colored banquette and sat rigidly in place, fingers digging into the cushions. Alia realized she’d probably never been on a plane before. Her dress had been reduced to what looked like a bedraggled ice-skating costume. The fabric was charred black near its edges—all but the lasso in a tangle at her waist, still as pristine as it had been when they left for the party. Her skin was pink in places.

  Where the bullets struck, Alia realized. The wounds had already healed.

  Alia had known Diana was strong, that there was some kind of magic at work on her island, but this was different. She’d thrown tables like Frisbees. She’d leapt into a moving plane. She’d survived an explosion and a gunfight with little more than a few bumps and scratches.

  Theo shook his head and laughed, the sound strange in the quiet cabin. “Damn, Jason. You really know how to throw a party.”

  Nim buried her face in her hands. Jason was watching Diana.

  “What is she?” he muttered beneath his breath, low enough that only Alia could hear.

  Amazon. Born of war, destined to be ruled by no one but herself. But that wasn’t Alia’s secret to tell.

  “I don’t really know,” Alia said. “I’m just glad she’s on our side.”

  They sat in silence until Ben’s voice came over the speaker. “You are now free to move about the cabin, fellow lawbreakers. We are clear.”

  Alia released a shuddering sigh of relief, and Jason gave her hand a squeeze.

  Theo unbuckled his seat belt and stumbled over to the jet’s bar by the banquettes. There was no turbulence, but Alia couldn’t blame him for being unsteady on his feet.

  “You’re going to start drinking already?” said Nim, her tear-stained face bleak.

  “No,” said Theo. “I’m going to continue drinking.”

  “Theo,” Jason said warningly.

 

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