Influence (Influence Series Book 1)

by David R. Bernstein

  “Farren, my team will follow you and Caiden in once the room is clear,” says Miya. “If they’re following protocol, the brothers should be locked in the safe room at the end of the wing. Hopefully, were not too late.”

  Farren nods, retraining his rifle on the metal door. Miya and the two gunmen in her unit stand behind Caiden and Farren with their rifles butted against their shoulders.

  Mavis’s limp arm is raised from the wall he’s propped against. Caiden positions his hand over the glowing red sensor just left of the door. A green pulse swipes across his palm, which engages a short beep. ACCESS GRANTED flashes atop the display as it brightens the area for a moment. Some sort of internal mechanism triggers a metal thud that comes from inside the door. Thank God. I don’t know if I could handle Caiden’s reaction if that didn’t work. Caiden whips Mavis’s arm back like a worthless piece of trash. It slams against the wall. Mavis groans, but remains out.

  Farren’s face flickers into sight as sparks fall down from above before they fade on the ground. He catches Caiden’s glance and they signal to each other. With Jax constantly in front of me, I find it hard to maintain this vantage point. That, combined with the darkness of this corridor, leaves my mind to imagine more than it should.

  “Alright, let’s move,” Farren says as he and Caiden lean on the heavy doors.

  A thunder-like sound rolls from the entrance as it gains momentum. With one hand resting on Jax’ shoulder, I pull myself up to my tiptoes. The others raise their weapons and crouch through the opening. With the door breached, Miya and her team move next.

  Cracks blare from inside the room just after Farren makes it through. I realize then that Magnus guards were just waiting for us to open that door. Forced back by the barrage of shots, one of our gunmen slams into Miya as his body collapses. Pinned down, she cries out in pain. Bullets continue to slam against the wall across from the entrance, rapid like a heavy hailstorm pelting a metal roof. A deeper moan filters through the madness. The wounded fighter from Miya’s group retreats just outside the door next to Mavis’s unconscious body. Unable to sit still, he clutches his calf with both hands. The bullets won’t stop. Farren is all I can think of now. Are they pinned down? Why have they not pulled back into the corridor? Jax slams into my chest and forces me back.

  “No, we can’t leave without them,” I yell.

  The resistance fighter who was held back nods at Jax as he rushes to the entrance to give whatever support he can. The endless bullets send him to the wall just outside the room. The dust and paint flecked from the bullet holes filters back to us, making my eyes water. I can’t take much more of this. Please stop firing.

  A dark figure emerges from outside the entrance. I squint, but it doesn’t help. The battle is kicking everything up into this narrow space. The blasts continue to pulsate in my ears. Covering them muffles the constant buzz a bit, but not enough. I recognize the person just beyond the haze. It’s Mavis. He’s confused and teetering from side to side. The full effects of the shock weapon haven’t worn off. He stumbles into the opening. Ripping through every inch of him, bullets exit his body as blood splatters against the wall. His shoulder dips back while his knees buckle. Each new blast distorts his gradual fall to the ground. A crippled pile is all that remains of Mavis Edgeley.

  An explosion booms as the shockwave vibrates past our feet. Heat rushes from the opening. I collapse and cover my head. Jax tackles me and shields me from the exhaust. The cool air returns and we notice the bullets have stopped. I nearly push Jax off of me while rushing to the entrance. My arm is snapped back as Jax grabs my wrist. “Please, I have to find him.”

  “Just wait a second, Kaylin,” he insists.

  With his free hand, he pulls out his pistol and holds it to his side. Moving in front of me, he releases my arm, but keeps his hand raised to prevent me from darting forward. He leans in and spots movement from a pile of bodies ahead. Miya wrestles her arm free from the charred resistance fighter that toppled on top of her. His body saved her from the explosion. Jax grabs her arm, keeping his gun pointed into the smoke-blurred entrance. He pulls her a few feet into the hallway. She coughs several times, which loosens the soot from her matted hair. Pops from the exposed wires continue to give temporary bursts of light. Kneeling beside her, I rip a piece of my shirt. Placing the cloth on a small, bloody wound on the back of her head, I’m able to control the bleeding. She winces before gathering herself. Turning, I find Jax has moved on to the support gunmen in our group. It doesn’t take long to realize both of them were killed by the blast. Burned and unrecognizable, the men had no chance to avoid the extreme energy of the explosion. My breath stutters as I inhale. Three more lives lost. Our group, nearly cut in half now, is broken, scattered, and lost. I’m afraid to think of Farren and Caiden, not ready to add them to the list.

  “Kaylin… Jax,” is shouted from inside.

  “Farren!” I respond, stumbling through the devastation.

  Yet again Jax restrains me before I blindly run into the murky unknown. His arm stretches across my shoulders, dragging me to the side just past one of the fallen men, his weapon drawn as his back slams against the wall. The smoke cloud that entrapped the opening flushes into disarray as Farren races through. He’s alive. Jax releases me and I jump into Farren’s arms, not giving him a moment to search for me. He stumbles back a bit before he realizes it’s me.

  He returns a tight embrace and asks, “Are you alright?”

  “Yes, are you?”

  Exchanging smiles, we look each other over for wounds. His grit-filled hands clasp my cheeks, pulling me up to meet our foreheads. “I’m fine.”

  Coughing, Caiden emerges from the thinning smoke to witness the losses to our team. He wasn’t close to them, but his military mindset leads to a deep bond with fellow soldiers. It doesn’t take long before his somber mood changes to satisfaction as he notices Mavis’s nearly unrecognizable body lying at his feet. Even with the burns and bullet holes, that smug face shines through as if he’s giving us one last jab from the grave.

  Miya joins our decimated group as we reconnect in the hall. The bleeding at the back of her head has stopped and she’s regained her strength. Trying to figure it out, I ask Farren, “What happened in there?”

  “There were five or six heavily armed Magnus fighters concealed all throughout the first room,” Farren explains, giving Miya a puzzled look.

  Her intel was wrong—she of all people should have known every possible scenario when it came to the Magnus Order’s leadership.

  Caiden interrupts him. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, the safe room was empty.”

  “I don’t understand, Percy and Harold have to be here,” Miya says, rubbing the back of her head.

  “They were here when I left,” Jax says. “And no place in the Magnus sector is safer than Talas. They rarely leave this place.”

  “What was that explosion?” Jax asks.

  “Oh, that little thing,” Caiden says, wiping the soot from his face. “Well, I peppered one of the snipers in the back and as she fell, her gun kept blasting away. She tagged a few propane tanks in the back. If it wasn’t for that concrete wall, we’d be dust right now.”

  “So what were they protecting if the safe room was empty?” Miya asks.

  Farren shifts his focus back to the entrance. “Those guards were protecting a staircase near the back.”

  “The helipad,” insists Miya. “Let’s move.”

  “Are you sure?” Jax asks, examining her wounds. “We can lead you back to the others before we move on.”

  “It will be too late by then, and I’m not missing this. I’m fine.”

  A quick check on ammo and the team is ready. Jax and I scan the area for anything abnormal, including our evil Influencer friend. No gloomy pushes, no signs of incoming civilians—nothing.

  Led by Farren, we enter the executive wing. The dust and smoke have settled, but the smell of charred bodies is intense. Miya almost loses it at the stench. Her shir
t collar is enough to get her through it.

  This operations room is big and, even with that explosion knocking out everything, some lights in the high ceilings remain functional. It reminds me of a shelter mess hall: expansive and cold. The lack of color or comfort is obvious. This room is all about function over style. Melted comm stations sit below a wall of glass monitors that stretch across one of the far corners. Darkened by the blasts, this tech that connects the Talas hub to the rest of the Magnus network is now severed.

  I stiffen my neck and keep my eyes forward to avoid the disfigured remains that litter the floor. I’ve seen enough death for one day—for a lifetime, actually. We pick up the pace to the stairs, passing several hallways that lead deeper into this wing. Every corner of this place has been cleared by our team. Farren and Caiden are the first to the bottom of the spiral metal staircase. Their weapons point up and we remain focused. We want to avoid another ambush. Miya pushes her way to the front. She’s eager to once again come face to face with the Magnus brothers. That taste of doing their dirty work must be tough to forget. Or maybe she just wants to be out of this deathtrap once and for all. I don’t blame her.

  Our steps echo as we file to the top. I’m the second-to-last to reach the end of the stairwell. A short ladder at the edge of the landing leads up to a large square hatch. This will take us to the roof level. Jax grabs Miya’s arm, preventing her from climbing up. “Hey, just wait a second,” he insists.

  “They have to be up there. We need to move,” she says, shrugging her arm free.

  Farren notices her irrational behavior and steps in front of her. “I understand this has been a long time coming for you, but blindly popping your head out a gopher hole is not your best move.”

  She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, which seems to settle her. “Okay, so what’s our move?”

  Farren defers to Caiden for the safest approach. Scratching his overgrown red sideburns, Caiden tries to stir up ideas. “There’s no pretty way to do this. I’ll open while the rest of you keep your weapons trained on whatever fun comes next.”

  “We don’t really have a lot of choices here,” I say.

  Without another word said, we all adjust our positions and prepare for whatever is on the other side of this hatch. Farren guides me a few steps down and hands me a small pistol. “This is a G-Pulse firearm. It’s simple to use, light, and deadly.”

  His eyes have an unfamiliar intensity as they burn into mine. He gives me a quick lesson on how to fire the weapon. He’s all business right now. He’s scared for me; I don’t need to be in his mind to know that. With my free arm, I caress his forearm, petting it with my thumb. I smirk and say, “Don’t worry, I had twenty minutes of weapons training at the Walton hub.”

  I’m unable to get a smile from him this time. I can’t overthink this now. We’re about to crack this lid. Moving a few steps down, our group fans out around Caiden with guns locked on the hatch. Caiden silently counts down on his raised fingers.

  Three…

  Two…

  One.

  The latch is forced open as light floods in, blinding us for a moment before our eyes adjust. To our surprise, there’s nothing. No explosion, no gunfire, nothing.

  Jax waves his hand up and down in a calming motion as he moves to the front. He sneaks a glance through the opening before turning to Farren and Caiden. With a nod, he signals them to move up the ladder. Miya grabs Farren’s shoulder just before he reaches the bottom rung and nods toward me. “Stay with her and keep her secure. I’ve got this.”

  She’s still eager to be front and center. Miya is always following procedures, so this impulse for revenge is out of place. I do feel comfortable with Farren by my side, though, but I’m nervous for her as well. Farren agrees with her as he falls back to my side just off the landing.

  Gripping her weapon in one hand, she uses the other to climb the short ladder. Caiden is practically bouncing in place behind her. She’s up and out of sight now. Jax keeps Caiden from flying up until we hear the all-clear. The wait isn’t very long as her faded voice lets us know we’re good to move.

  One by one, we breach the crisp air and find ourselves standing in the open space on the top of this hub. We fan out, circling a red marked symbol painted beneath our feet. “It’s the helipad for their FlexViper,” Miya says to me.

  “They’re gone, we’re too late,” Caiden says, flailing his arms to the sky. His disappointment pours out and anger takes over.

  Farren turns to Miya. “Did you clear the whole roof?”

  Other than a few antenna arrays, floodlights, and solar panels, there is not much up here.

  “Of course I did.”

  “Wait, what does this mean for the mission?” I ask, though I already have a pretty good idea.

  “The Magnus brothers will just set up headquarters at one of the other hubs,” says Miya. “They will rebound from this as long as those two are alive.”

  Our group’s emotions are starting to escape as the unfinished ending is starting is sink in. Caiden moves to the outer wall and dangles his feet off the edge as his head drops low in an almost- comical pout. As poised as ever, Jax is reevaluating the mission, looking for new solutions as he paces back and forth. Disappointment hasn’t eluded Farren either, hunched over the opposite wall, scouring the hub’s surroundings as he lets off steam. Miya has stormed off toward the far side of the roof. For me, I remain in the center of the helipad hoping for a new outcome to magically appear.

  I decide sitting is a better use of my time than pacing or pouting. My hands support my head as I let my mind remember Maddux. I only knew him for a few days, but his warmth and spirit gained a special place in my heart. Awareness is about emotions and connections, not about the length of time. My thoughts move from Maddux to Ava. A tear runs down my cheek and splashes on my forearm. Playing with the cool trails of moisture that stream down my arm, I search for connected emotion that is tangible. Breaking me from my state, a shadow crosses over my legs. I don’t even have a second to lift my head before an unfamiliar voice in the distance says, “Hello, everyone.”

  Scuttling back along the rough ground, I gather my balance before pulling myself up. Turning to the voice, I see two older men walking toward us with their hands raised. They must be the Magnus brothers. Next to them, another man holds a gun to Miya’s head. She’s still and her face is pale. Several rushed footsteps scuffle behind me. The taller of the older men steps forward, keeping his hands out to show he is unarmed. He surveys our group and in a deep voice says, “I must say, I’ve never seen a more well-organized bunch of kids. Most of these silly resistances are more like children running away from home—soon they realize there’s just no point and they crawl back.”

  “You need to let her go, Harold,” Jax says.

  “Oh, Mr. Riley, you have disappointed me. We’ve given you so much, and this is how you repay our generosity.”

  His well-groomed, whitened beard and weathered face stir up a primal sense of respect, although my mind knows better. Their tailored suits reignite that raw emotion Mavis stirred up. They walk differently too, like the fancy clothes straighten them up and force them to puff out their chests. It’s disgusting. If he’s Harold, the other one crossing his arms must be Percy.

  “It’s okay, Harold,” says Percy. “Mr. Riley’s services are no longer needed. Not now that we have Mr. Stratton here.”

  My breathing quickens at the realization that the guy restraining Miya must be the evil Influencer. Glancing over, I find his dark eyes trained on me. I thought he was just Magnus personnel but, like most Influencers, he is young. If it wasn’t for the emotional weight lying behind his eyes, he could be younger than me. His black hair matches the dark outfit he wears. The high, chunky boots and well-fitted button-up shirt look like something Caiden would wear.

  “Why don’t you lower your weapon and we’ll do the same,” pleads Jax.

  “That’s just silly,” Harold says, grinning at Percy. “If we drop our
weapon, you could overtake us with your numbers.”

  “You’re damn right,” says Caiden.

  Jax turns to Caiden, lips pursed in frustration. He doesn’t need anyone else escalating things.

  Harold retrains his green eyes on Jax. “This is what’s going to happen. When our FlexViper arrives, Ms. Hurley will come along for a quick ride. Once we are clear, you have my word we will let her go.”

  Almost as if on cue, a soft wind-driven hum emerges in the distance. The hum becomes a loud whoosh as the craft approaches the hub. It’s above us within seconds, forcing us to step to the outer edges of the pad. Our group tightens its formation. We shield our eyes from the dust kicked up from the two lift blades. This FlexViper is fancier than anything I have ever seen. Its smooth edges and black, shiny body gives it the look of speed. Squinting to avoid debris, I notice that there is no one in the cockpit. The brothers must have activated the fully automated craft to approach Talas. The wind weakens as the engines shut down. The blades stop as it becomes silent. There’s a pop on each side as doors rise open, giving the look of wings.

  “Well, it’s time to clean up the mess you’ve made,” Percy says to us as he approaches the opening on the opposite side from where we stand.

  “I take your silence as acceptance of our terms,” suggests Harold.

  Agitated, Farren is having a hard time standing still. I can see in his face that he wants to do something. Jax stands in front of our team, his arms outstretched, keeping us from charging.

  “This is not over,” Jax says to the brothers.

  “You might’ve shut down Talas, but the Order will remain strong,” says Harold as he climbs into the cockpit next to Percy.

  Pushed to the craft by Stratton, Miya avoids eye contact with our group. My stomach seizes as I feel for her. A few feet before the Viper, Stratton stops and looks at the brothers.

  “What’s the holdup?” asks Percy.

  “There’s going to be a slight change of plans,” says Stratton as he pulls Miya’s Block Disrupter from his side. He points the device at the brothers. They recognize what he has and grasp at their safety belts trying to get loose to take cover. The device pulses a wave out that passes through the brothers in their seats. He turns to me with the slight shake of his head and taps his pistol at Miya’s temple. He knows I would counter his push if it wasn’t for Miya’s safety. Like the rest of us, the events have locked me in confusion. We have no choice but to watch this play out.