by E. R. Arroyo
I squeeze my eyes closed, tilting my head back and away, and pull the trigger. The bot splits in two and I could swear I feel prongs scraping bones. With the mine broken, I maneuver the claws out of my chest. But I already feel woozy.
I retrieve the fallen transmitter and send the signal again. I finally see my father with Max, and Dylan, all looking on with horror from the other side, helpless only a few yards away. I wave to them, and they test the space between us before rushing through.
My father scoops me onto my feet, assessing me. He catches Jason by the sleeve. “Get her out of here.”
“No,” I shout, steadying myself on Dad’s arm. “I’m fine.” Then I let go to convince him. I’m not sitting out of this mission. One moment he’s struggling to decide, and the next we’re jogging toward Antius’s fences.
Soldiers flood in, and there’s more than before so the other groups must have caught up while they were waiting for me. I lead the men to the hole I made, then two men step up with saws and cut giant openings in mere seconds. They move over to create more openings while the rest of us pour into Antius.
Moments later, I stand by the back door of Underage and look around until I see Dylan running. Reaching me, he pulls a different mechanism from his bag. Without a second glance my way, he scans it in front of the chip scanner, and it grants him access. Once he pulls the door open, we charge the building.
Half the group follows me upstairs to the girls’ floor and the others follow Dylan to the boys’ wing. At the top of the stairs, with Max and my father on my heels, I turn a corner and come face-to-face with a startled young guard who fumbles for his gun.
Max puts a bullet in his head, and the rest of us fan out, pulling girls from their beds. They scream in panic, and I realize how impossible it’ll be to convince them we’re not trying to hurt them. I dip out into the hall and try to reach as many of them as I can. When they lock eyes with me, they quiet down. When I tell them everything’s okay, they nod and stop fighting. But there are too many to reach one-by-one--we don’t have enough time. My heart aches for their confusion and fear, and I’m desperate to put them at ease.
I grab the two closest soldiers I can find. “Lift me up.” They look confused but each grab a leg and hoist me up between them. “Girls!” Most of them stop and look at me. “We’re here to help you, to take you somewhere safe. These men won’t hurt you.” It finally occurs to me that most of these kids haven’t encountered men on any sort of regular basis, and certainly not up close since all of their caretakers and teachers are women. The only men they’ve known are guards. Armed ones.
Crying girls and teenagers follow the soldiers to the stairwell. Hearing gunshots from that direction, I run, ducking around men and girls alike. Max shoots down the stairwell as screaming girls back away from the gunshots.
In a split second, I remember the way the men in The City surrounded the women and children to protect them. “Surround the girls. Everybody spread out. You guys bring up the rear, you guys follow me. Keep them encircled.”
Max’s men spread out and take up the borders of the terrified girls.
“Move forward!” I take the lead and peek down the stairwell, a soldier at the bottom shoots. I duck and fire a shot of my own, hitting him somewhere around the shoulder. As he goes down, I run to disarm him.
I check the hall at the base of the stairs--where I first fought Sean and Billy--and the coast is clear. “Bring them down!”
When we get the girls out the back door, the boys are already headed for the fence while Commanders Emilio and Michelle guide them through, forcing them to fan out and not all exit the same hole.
Dad, Max, and Dylan regroup with several commanders. I jog to them, looking over my shoulder as the kids are led to safety. Before they make the trek back to the perimeter, Michelle and Emilio form a line of soldiers in front with their weapons drawn, hopefully prepared to trip mines like I did.
“The women’s building?” I ask, somewhat desperately. All the kids under five are there. I’ve never felt so alive and motivated, and I don’t want it to stop. From here out, I only ever want good to come of my actions. If we can save more, I want to. I have to.
“Yes, we’re going there next, but we’ve given them half of our troops to guarding the children. How do we proceed?” Max looks to me. I blink, trying to process how I became in charge of this raid.
“If Dylan can get us in, we can infiltrate the same way we did Underage. But it’ll be more heavily guarded. Dylan?”
He wipes the pooling sweat of his forehead. “I think we should go in the front entrance, it will give us easier access to all three floors.”
A gunshot rings out and we all aim in its direction. The Lakeview commander, John, goes down with blood on his chest. The rest of us fan out, trying to confuse the shooter and locate him. Other Antius soldiers fire, while Emilio leads a small squad that fires back as Antius’s sirens blare.
Jason ducks around a corner and rolls out into the open. He fires his gun and the Antius sniper goes down, but strikes Jason, too. I run to him and someone helps me drag him around the building. Two of his comrades wrap his arms over their shoulders and carry him after the escaping children.
“Split up,” Max calls as more enemy guards show up and more gunshots ring out. We all fire back and take turns reloading.
I catch up to Dylan and grab onto his shirt to get his attention. His hand shakes, and the gun looks awkward in his grip. I can tell by his expression that he had to use it.
“Let’s go,” I encourage, gently.
Still in a bit of a trance, he nods and leads the way while I cover us. Once we reach the door, he goes to work on the access while I keep my back to him and my gun on the battle. No one seems to have noticed us, but I see a spotlight flare up and know the other snipers will be out soon.
The access pad beeps and then the door opens. I back inside after Dylan as a handful of our soldiers catch up, including Max. We take out two guards at the entrance. I aim for the knees, Max aims for the heart. Neither of us misses.
“The third floor is where they keep the small children and infants. We should start there.” Dylan heads for the stairs and several follow.
As more soldiers enter the front door, I stay on the first floor to look for women while I hope someone addresses the middle floor. We head down the hall and take out a couple more guards. Max covers me while I enter a room to rouse a woman. She’s young, and her eyes look almost empty.
“I’m here to help.” She stares at me. “We have to go now.”
“Go where?” She wipes her tired eyes. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Please, just come with me. We’re getting the babies out, too. You can see them again.” I try to appeal to her maternal instincts, hoping they’re still in there somewhere.
She seems reluctant but follows. When we reach the hallway, other women are already out there, and several stand in their doorways watching, unwilling to move. I search every face hoping to find Ginny, but don’t.
“Please, if you want out, come with us.” My eyes burn as I plead with the women, knowing they won’t be as easy to convince as the kids were--the kids aren’t drugged. It takes much longer to gather the women, and once we’ve gotten as many to follow us as we can, Max tells me we have to go.
I follow him back to the entrance, but gunshots riddle that side of the building. From how hard they’re hitting, I’d say it includes sniper fire. Dylan runs down the stairs. “Back door!”
A Mercy soldier who must not have heard Dylan tugs open the front door and takes a bullet to the chest, then three women behind him are struck as well. We rush the entrance, Dylan slamming the door closed while I try to get the wounded women to their feet. Only one of the three gets up. The terror in her eyes strikes cold to my core, and for a second I’m frozen looking at her, aching for her. Then a bullet flies into her chest, and I fall to my knees, catching her and easing her down.
“Leave her!” Max calls, and I shak
e myself out of my trance. He stands over the guard I shot in the knee, having just put a bullet in his head. I silently kick myself for not shooting him in the chest to begin with.
I follow Max to the back side of the building, where caretakers are carrying babies and small children down the staircase behind Dylan. Dylan breaks through the back door, not bothering with the access pad.
Bullets zip through the doorway and Dylan slams it closed.
We’re trapped, I think. Panicking, I realize maybe we should have taken the kids and gone. But how could we have done that?
“What now?” I shout to Dylan, tired of calling the shots.
Dylan and Max corral the women away from the entrance, forcing them into a hallway with no windows, where they hunker down, terrified.
A guard pushes through the back door and Max takes him out just as quickly, pushing the body back outside and closing the door again.
“How many are out there?” I ask, desperately, hoping he saw.
Before Max can answer, one of his guys yanks a rifle off the body of an Antius guard and rushes up the stairs, and I follow after him, realizing what he’s going to do. Without a word to one another, we bust out glass panes and find the guards shooting up the back of Women’s. In the time it takes me to locate and shoot one guard, my comrade shoots two, and there’s no one else to fire on.
Back downstairs, I nod for Dylan to try the back door again, this time making the women take cover away from the doorway.
“It’s clear!” Everyone we’ve rounded up pours out the back.
Two men guard the door in case any soldiers come through the front while I creep around to see what’s happening in the center of the compound. I see mostly Refuge soldiers still standing. The sniper from the center tower is still firing, and two of Emilio’s troops go down.
“Max, get them out of here.” I toss my pack at him and take off for the tower. On my way, I duck and weave, wondering why only this tower is firing. I hear Dylan calling after me, but can’t make out what he says. Don’t follow me, I think as I realize I’m running into open battle toward a highly skilled sniper.
I go straight for the ladder, thankful I don’t have to scale the post. Next, I slip onto the deck and duck below the open windows, crawling around to the side with the sniper. As I sit below the window, I calculate one bullet left in my clip, but there’s no time to change it. He fires another shot, and one of the blonde lady-soldiers goes down. After the next shot, I’m going to stand and fire. And I can’t miss.
The next shot doesn’t come, but boots do. The sniper comes out onto the deck to take better aim, and he stands right in front of me. I vaguely recognize him, making what I’m about to do even harder. I aim for his heart and fire into his back. He drops his rifle, falling to his knees. There’s no blood on his chest, but he clutches it, turning to face me. The bullet must still be in there.
Another guard I recognize--Red from the perimeter tower-- comes out of the hut and takes in his fallen comrade, then takes in the sight of me. I jump on the handrail and leap onto the roof like I did an eternity ago when this was just a game. He fires but misses me. I run across the roof and swing over the edge, throwing myself inside the room, feet first, through the open window.
I stab Red in the back and pull the blade out but he turns to me, seeming unfazed. He comes for me, swinging his gun my direction. Without a better idea, I slice at his wrist. He drops the weapon and scrambles for it while blood spills from his wrist and back. As he kneels to retrieve the gun, I stab him again, the feel of my blade tearing into human flesh sickening me.
I aim the spotlight at the other towers, and it looks like they’ve all been taken out. We can do this.
I head back toward the women’s center, knowing we can’t risk the men’s center. We should get out while we’re ahead. We need to get out now. I search everywhere for Max and don’t find him, so I assume he got the women and babies to safety.
Movement catches my eye and I whip toward the underground building. Dylan’s on his knees with Nathan standing over him. He jams a needle into Dylan’s neck and Dylan tenses, gritting his teeth to keep from yelling. Pulling his gun, Nathan drags Dylan to his feet and into the elevator. Blood oozes down Dylan’s face from a wound near his eye and my heart lurches in my chest.
“No!” I release a guttural scream and run toward the elevator. Nathan smiles as the doors close between us. The elevator disappears before I reach it. I fall to the ground and pound on the top of the closed elevator shaft, screaming. Why wasn’t Dylan fighting back?
I’m lifted to my feet and swing a punch, blushing when I make contact with my father’s chin. “Corinne, we have to go. We’re running out of ammo. We got what we came for.”
“Nathan has him. He has Dylan!” The burning in my eyes intensifies with my desperation to get to Dylan. We can’t leave him behind. I won’t.
He ponders for a second, looking over his shoulder. “How do we get inside?”
I drop to my knees and punch in the code I used to call up Vance when I visited Cornelius. I haven’t seen him since the day Cornelius died. While I wait, I switch my clip. The elevator arrives and Vance stands inside it, looking frantic. He pulls me into his arms, “Thank God.” As he releases me a bullet hits him in the chest, right where my head just was.
“Vance!”
He groans, “Get out of here.”
“Vance, Nathan took Dylan. We have to find him.” We pile into the elevator with him and I help him put pressure on the wound. My dad fires shots out the elevator until the doors close.
“Which floor?” He’s pale, and weak. I don’t know how much longer he can hang on, and there’s nothing I can do. Which floor? Where would Nathan take Dylan? He looked me right in the eye, like he wanted me to follow. So where would he want me to go?
“Eleventh floor. Labs.” He punches the button and wipes the blood from his finger before scanning his print and his chip. When the elevator gets to eleven, Dad helps Vance into a safe corner.
We hear soldiers shouting and running, and we duck in the dark corner with Vance until they pass.
“To the stairwell. All hands topside,” one shouts and they head the opposite direction. When they’re gone, my father follows me down the hall.
I hear Dylan yelling and run toward the sound. I turn a corner and then another and no longer hear my father’s steps behind me. I stand for a moment not sure if I should run back for my dad or keep going for Dylan. My dad is armed, Dylan’s hurt. So I choose Dylan.
I push through a door and into a large, white lab where Dylan is strapped to a table with Sean guarding him. When he fires a shot, I move to the side and slam into a metal cabinet with glass doors. As the back of my head slams into it, the glass shatters and I drop my gun from the impact. It takes a moment for me to get my orientation, and Sean’s sardonic laughter is pure evil and it fills the room.
I’m too dizzy to attack, and even though I’ve been fighting this whole time, this feels different. I suddenly realize I’m terrified of Sean--he’s not a dumb kid anymore, and we’re no longer the same size. It seems impossible, but my heart beats even faster, and I fight to clear my head of the fear taking over. When Sean advances, I snap out of it and pull a metal rack down between us then jump on top of it, leaping at Sean.
Wrapping my legs around him, I throw my elbow at his face two times before he gets a fistful of my hair and yanks me to the floor. I scream on the way down, grabbing onto his gun hand. I bite his wrist while twisting his arm the wrong direction. He yelps and drops the gun and the clump of hair he pulled from my scalp. He attacks me on the ground, and slams a heavy fist into my face, rocking me. He slams another fist into my side, knocking the breath out of me. I punch his jaw, but he keeps hitting me. I’m outmatched in every way and getting desperate. I have every reason to believe I’m defeated where I lie, and fight hard not to cry in front of him. I picture Dylan lying on the table nearby, bleeding, bound, and drugged, and I have to do something. Think!
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I think back to training, trying to remember anything that could help me. He’s stronger than me. He’s bigger than me. I close my eyes as another punch rocks me and I taste blood.
I toss my hips to the side, trying to knock him off balance, but he’s too big. As more blows to my ribcage rock me, I find a hole and slip my hand through it, landing a hard punch right on his throat. He pauses for a moment, trying to cough, and I wiggle onto my side and slam my right elbow into his ribcage, right where Titus showed me.
He reels back, but comes at me again before I can get to my feet. From the ground, I drive my heel into the same spot I elbowed and wish to God I could hear the bone breaking so I’d know I was doing it right.
I balance on my left leg and drive my shinbone into his face. He reaches for his fallen gun while catching my leg with one hand, pulling me with him. With my hands now free, I go for the knife on my hip and pull it out. It’s still bloody from Red. When he wraps his fingers around the handle of his gun, I jam my knife into his neck and blood pours down his chest, and his grip on my leg slackens.
Struggling to catch my breath, I scrounge to my feet, my mouth gaping as I watch Sean slump over. When I’m sure he’s down, I kick his gun away, then rush to Dylan’s side and undo the straps. His eyes are glazed over, and his head bobs to the side when I try to get him up.
“Dylan, let’s go.” I force him to hold his head up, trying to make eye contact with him. “I need you. We’re in this together. You and me.” He can’t keep his eyes open. “C’mon, Dylan.”
I slap his cheek and find a cold piece of metal to hold against his face. His eyes pop open, and they’re dilated from whatever Nathan drugged him with. He flops onto his side and his legs fall over the table.
“I’ve got you.” That’s a joke, he’s twice my weight. But I’m trying.
I pull his arm over my shoulder and I groan when he puts his weight on me. Of everything I’ve been through tonight, this should be easy. I help him shuffle to the door until I realize I still don’t have my gun. I lean him against the wall while I try to find it. I end up with Sean’s instead, but I don’t look at the knife in his neck.
