Sketches

by Teyla Branton

  Dani nodded and a soldier passed the bag to her. Reese began to sketch. Sweat beaded on her brow as the figures appeared on the page. Brogan sat on the ground, slumped against Lyra, who held something over a wound in his gut. Eagle was bleeding from numerous cuts. Hammer held his wrist against his chest, fury stamped on his face. Only Garrett looked untouched and uncuffed, standing by none other than that pus-licking, whore-wrangler Summers.

  The two years he and Garrett had worked together flashed through Jaxon’s mind. Their record number of cases solved, how Jaxon had helped Garrett climb from depression after his wife left him, the nights they spent painting the town. Jaxon trusted Garrett with his life. But now he understood how the Special Forces had received backup at the factory so unexpectedly. Garrett had alerted Summers.

  The captain and the others would pay the price of Jaxon’s misplaced trust.

  Garrett lays in a pool of blood that soaks into the rocky earth beneath him. The gun in Jaxon’s hand feels warm. His hand is shaking.

  He hadn’t connected it before, the possibility of his own gun being the one that might shoot Garrett instead of protecting him, but now the premonition he’d experienced about his partner while being held in the Underground made more sense. Except he still couldn’t believe Garrett would betray him, or put the captain in danger. Garrett was an egotistical control freak, but he was a hardworking man and a loyal partner.

  Also loyal to the CORE, a voice inside him mocked, a voice he recognized as his own. The clues had been there all along in his double premonition. With Garrett by his side, he’d seen only death. Jaxon should have known.

  “Where are they?” he demanded. Because there had to be time to turn this around. Garrett hadn’t been by his side when Dani arrived, so maybe the deaths wouldn’t come true.

  “It’s too late,” Dani said. “They’ll be taking them somewhere in Dallastar and then to Estlantic.”

  “They haven’t left yet,” he said. “Take us there. Or as close as you can.”

  Dani didn’t speak for several seconds as Jaxon’s heart pounded against his chest. “No,” she said finally. “And I’m doing you a favor. You won’t be able to help them without getting caught yourselves.”

  Jaxon’s mind churned with the possibilities. Maybe if he offered Garrett and Summers something big enough to make them stay. “Lyssa, is Lyra here with us?”

  “No, she’s all there now. Occupied.”

  “Well tell Lyra to let Garrett know we’ve captured fringers and a hovercraft. Tell her to try not to let on that we know what’s happened there. They’ll suspect, but they won’t know for sure how much you’ve picked up.”

  Lyssa’s eyes shut and her face became vacant as she traveled to Lyra.

  Dani shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I won’t risk my men. Or my hover.”

  “I’m not asking you to risk your men.” Jaxon’s voice twisted with ugliness. “And you don’t have to stick around. Just take us closer, preferably some place we can set a trap.”

  Lyssa’s eyes came open. “Please!” she added. “I can see everything Lyra can. I can tell when they’re coming and with how many.”

  “As long as Lyra’s alive, you mean,” Dani said.

  The idea of Lyra dying fueled Jaxon’s anger. “You have no idea who Captain Brogan is or what he can do for your movement. We have to save him.”

  “Even if that means risking your lives?”

  “Please, Dani,” Reese said quietly. “It’s Lyra and Eagle. They’re our crew.”

  Dani stared back at her without expression, but she nodded slowly. “You tell me what you meant about who the captain is, then I’ll decide.”

  “Not in front of them.” Jaxon indicated her men.

  Lyssa stepped forward, whispering something in Dani’s ear. She blinked twice, but otherwise didn’t react. Everyone stared at her expectantly.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll take you there. And I’ll help you break them out. It’s a suicide mission, but if we have any chance to succeed, there’s only one place we can go.”

  Chapter 28

  DANI TOOK THEM to an empty zone, an abandoned pre-Breakdown city littered with a maze of ruined buildings and towers of rubble. She flew over piles of wreckage and landed in a clearing next to a medium-sized lake. The area was a good choice because Summers’ shuttle wouldn’t be able to make it through the debris. That meant Garrett and his Special Forces pals would have to come after them on foot. It also meant that any Special Forces remaining in the shuttle with their captives wouldn’t have a line of sight into the clearing, and guns mounted on their vehicle would be useless.

  The adjacent lake must have been created when a bomb hit a stream during Breakdown. The resulting deep oval indentation had continued to fill with water for generations, and would now make a perfect place to park the hover during their confrontation. Aside from the mounds of twisted metal and broken concrete, the area looked oddly peaceful.

  “You sure it’s safe here?” Reese asked. She was feeling better now that she’d had time to record all the sketches in her brain. For now.

  “From the radiation?” Dani nodded. “I wouldn’t want to raise crops here or anything, but we’ll be okay.” Her gaze shifted to her three soldiers. “You take the hover out over the water. Engage the flotation devices to preserve energy. But if something bad happens and they reach you, get out of here. Got it? The last thing we want are those pus bags having this tech.”

  “I’m staying,” one of the men said.

  “Me too,” the others added. They gripped their rifles and stood at attention.

  Dani stared at them, her white brows drawn, a furious expression on her dark face. Yet Reese also saw a hint of pride in her eyes. Just like when they were little and Reese had done something that had taken guts, like standing up to the older boy who’d tried to take her lunch, even if she’d earned a black eye that day.

  “Okay, if that’s the way you want it,” Dani said. “Except you, Nara. You have the expertise to fly the hover back to Newcali, if it becomes necessary. Make sure you record what happens.”

  Nara looked ready to refuse, but Dani stared her down. “I’m counting on you to keep that hover safe,” Dani added.

  “Yes, ma’am!” Nara stamped her foot on the earth and drew it to her other foot with a snap, her arms pointing straight down and ending in tight fists. Dani returned the gesture with a practice that told Reese the salute was customary.

  “We don’t plan on losing here,” Jaxon said, sounding determined.

  Lyssa looked up from the pistol the fringers had returned to her and said, “They’re nearly here. I feel Lyra getting closer.”

  “You and you,” Dani said to the two remaining fringer soldiers. “Get into position. I’ll take the lake. They’ll try to get to the hover, and I’ll be waiting.” With a nod at Reese and Jaxon, she headed to the edge of the lake. Reese expected her to take cover behind the cement block there, but she continued into the water, bit by bit until she was fully under.

  Reese gaped. “What is she doing?”

  “Don’t worry about her,” said one of the fringers. “She’s from Colony 6.”

  “Okay then,” Jaxon muttered. He scooped some dirt from the ground and rubbed it over his face.

  Anticipation rippled through Reese, and she checked her guns for the third time. The plan was for Lyssa and Jaxon to sit close to the water with the hope of luring Summers and Garrett and their enforcers closer. The fringers would hide behind the debris on either side of the area and wait for a signal to use their rifles. Reese would stay hidden as well, first to take out any enforcers sent to comb the debris, and then to help her team surround Summers and Garrett. Trapping their enemies in the clearing wasn’t elegant but would be to their advantage against the full squadron of ten soldiers they expected after Lyssa’s ghostly visit to Lyra. With Summers and Garrett, that was twelve against six. Not great odds, unless some of their friends could get free.

  Reese was glad for her
enforcer training and for the nanobots that had aided her healing. She was ready for this. Fear was relegated to a corner of her mind, where she didn’t have to examine it too closely.

  “They’re here,” breathed Lyssa. “Looking for a place to stop.” She sank down onto the softer dirt near the lake’s edge, holding her jacket to her shoulder as if stemming blood from a wound while in reality masking her gun. No one would believe Reese or Jaxon if they tried it, but Lyssa wasn’t a trained enforcer so maybe she could pull it off.

  Will she remember she can fire right through the material? Reese wondered.

  Lyssa shut her eyes and shuddered. “I can see . . . Hammer’s doing something with his busted hand. He’s nudging Lyra but she doesn’t know what it means.”

  “Knowing Hammer, he’s probably going to try something,” Jaxon said. “He’d better not get them all killed.” He hesitated before adding to Reese, “Use any force necessary. They may wear the same uniform, but they are not on our side. Don’t forget that. This is war.”

  “I know.” She started to walk away, but Jaxon grabbed her arm, almost as though he needed her for balance. A sketch came to her—two ancient, thoroughly rusted cars layered together, topped by a massive concrete block pierced with iron bars. Hammer was kneeling on the ground, bruised and bleeding, his hands behind his head as an enforcer held him at gunpoint.

  Reese stared at Jaxon. “Is there more?”

  “I don’t know how it ends. Or even when it is.” Frustration spilled from his tone. “But I’m betting it’s in this place. Try to find him, if you can.”

  She nodded and hurried toward a twisted chunk of something that might have once been part of a pre-Breakdown vehicle or maybe a building. It was hard to tell.

  “They’ve stopped,” Lyssa said. “Summers is leaving two enforcers there and sending four into the surrounding rubble to scout for a trap.”

  They’d anticipated that, and Jaxon signaled the fringers to watch their backs. Reese disappeared behind the rubble. Her fingers itched to draw Jaxon’s premonition, but there wasn’t time. She clamped down on the need inside her. Focus!

  Reluctantly leaving the fringers to protect Jaxon and Lyra for the moment, Reese circled around the debris as quietly as possible. She had both her stunner and her regular weapon, which didn’t have a silencer. If she had to use it, everyone would hear and the fighting would quickly get out of hand. The fact that Summers seemed to want them alive might not mean anything once the shooting started.

  Scarcely breathing, she edged around a mound of garbage taller than her head that made it appear as if someone had started to clean up the place. Maybe the CORE had planned to build something here and then thought the better of it. Or maybe they were planning another colony.

  Saca! Her hands were shaking. Squatting, still hugging the mound of refuse, she tried to sketch in the dirt. Her fingers wouldn’t make a dent in the dry, packed earth, but a piece of sharp metal did the trick. She felt hotly ashamed as she drew. The others might be facing death and here she was drawing in the dirt like a child.

  A soft clang drew her attention away from her sketch. Someone was coming. Carefully setting down the piece of metal, she picked up both her guns. As in practice when she used both, she kept her stunner in her left hand and her real gun in her right. She was slightly faster with the left, but when carrying them both, she knew that a pull with her right was deadly, and it didn’t pay to change that now. Besides, a kill shot with the right would signal the shooting to begin, and she hoped to use the stunner instead.

  An enforcer stepped from the debris, a rifle on his back and a pistol drawn for the closer quarters. Shooting him with her gun would be easy, but the stunner would be tricky because of his uniform. No time for much debate. If he moved any closer, he’d see her.

  Warthog-faced clipper, she thought, smiling grimly. You could take the girl out of the Coop, but you couldn’t take the Coop out of the girl.

  One, two, three—she launched herself from behind the refuse, chopping down on his pistol arm. The gun clacked satisfyingly off a chunk of concrete as she followed with an attempt to stun him, but he deftly turned, slamming his fist into her jaw. Her stun shot missed, but she had five more chances with the stunner before she had to change cartridges. She rewarded him with a kick to his knee as he fumbled for his rifle. She fired again, but the darted electrodes bounced off his armored uniform.

  She was tempted to shoot him with her handgun, which would knock him back enough for her to get the advantage. But that would put Jaxon and the others at risk. Whatever she did, she couldn’t let the man get his rifle. She fired twice more with the stunner, this time nicking his cheek. He arched away from the pain as she slammed her pistol into his left shoulder. He fell, lashing out at her wildly with his foot. Pain raced through her calf, but she pushed forward, following him to the ground, her stunner now at his neck with the close-contact feature operating beautifully.

  He swore, then moaned. She eased up on the stunner and yanked him over on his back, using his own cuffs to secure his hands together. She looked around, but there was nothing to cuff him to, so she shot him with the stunner again and hoped he’d stay out long enough for them to finish the job.

  When he was limp, she patted him down and removed his weapons. He was just a young guy, probably twenty-five. Hatred grew inside her—hatred for Special Forces, for the CORE, but most of all for Summers, who had taken so much from the people of Colony 6.

  She dragged him behind the pile of refuse and made her way from the area, knowing the other enforcers couldn’t be far behind. One down, three to go—at least from the group of enforcers Lyssa had said were searching the ruins. Some distance away, she dumped the enforcer’s weapons, kicking them under debris, and loaded a new stun cartridge.

  “Doogie, that you?” came a voice.

  Squatting, she picked up a rock and tossed it over the debris. Steps followed the sound. She pursued the enforcer, tossing more rocks into the ruins ahead of them and slowly leading him—where? She wasn’t sure until she found the place—a set of odd-looking metal stairs. They were twisted almost beyond recognition but propped up on a broken concrete slab and perfectly scalable. She crept up the stairs. There, she could see the enforcer only an arm’s length below. She needed to time this right. Aim carefully.

  “Hey!” she called.

  He looked up and she fired, catching him in the neck with the stunner. He shook with the current and then fell and didn’t move. She dropped down from the stairs and went to him, cuffing him to what might have been a car window. Given the rusted state of the metal, he’d probably free himself eventually, but not soon enough to help his comrades.

  Two down, two to go. She was tempted to go back and see what Jaxon and Lyra were doing, but there had been no gun signal, so there was time. She hoped.

  Then she saw it: the layered cars topped by the cement boulder where Hammer might be executed. Or the place that might hold her up while Jaxon and Lyra were killed. She waited several long minutes, debating what to do before finally deciding to circle around and search for more enforcers.

  She’d taken only three steps when she heard the shouting, coming not from the lake but from behind the cars. As silently as possible, she hurried forward.

  Chapter 29

  BY BREAKING HIS right hand, they’d only done him a favor. Hammer turned his smile into a sneer. Slowly, he bent his hand in two, inwardly screaming with anguish as he forced it through the cuff. It didn’t go easily. Bit by bit, he pushed and pulled, stopping only when he couldn’t stand the pain and starting again because it didn’t end.

  He sat with the other three captives on a seat that ran the length of one side in the large, all-terrain shuttle. The vacant seat that faced them had been formerly occupied by five of the ten Special Forces. One enforcer, a woman, had been up in the front with Summers, and the remaining four men and Garrett had followed in the shuttle they’d stolen from their captives. All but two of the enforcers had gone with Su
mmers to meet Jaxon. One of those remaining was seated in the front of the shuttle, while the other was outside, pacing with his rifle. Now might be Hammer’s only chance, and he gritted his teeth against the agony.

  Finally, the hand was free. Useless and broken, but free, along with Hammer’s undamaged left hand that still wore its metal bracelet but was otherwise unfettered.

  Hammer looked and saw Lyra watching him, tears in her eyes. She didn’t speak but leaned forward and caught Eagle’s attention. Eagle followed her gaze. Good. They knew. Time to get out of here.

  He covered his broken hand with the cuffed one. “Please let her help our captain,” he called to the enforcer sitting in the front seat, his gun ready but his attention wandering to the forward window, where the enforcer’s companion paced. Neither of the men were pleased to have been left behind, probably anxious to prove themselves in combat with real fringers.

  “Shut up,” the man barked. He was a veteran, a seasoned professional, but Hammer guessed he still didn’t understand that he’d been left behind because of his experience and the danger El Cerebro represented.

  Brogan cracked an eye, angling his head to look at Hammer, a glimmer of understanding on his face. He began choking.

  “He’s going to die,” Eagle said. “Then what? Just let us use the first aid supplies to stop his bleeding. Summers won’t be happy if he can’t turn El Cerebro over to the CORE alive.” The guard stood and came closer to look, stooping because of the inadequate head room in the shuttle. It was the moment Hammer had been waiting for. He lurched to his feet and smashed out at the enforcer with his left hand. The man staggered back, and Eagle shot out his tied feet, tripping him. The enforcer fell backward, slamming his head against the metal encasement of the front seat with a satisfying thud.

  Hammer took a painfully slow moment to remove the strap securing his feet before launching himself from the shuttle, hoping to either lead the other enforcer away on a chase or possibly overcome him. But the man was waiting for Hammer. He slammed his rifle into Hammer’s face, and it was only Hammer’s size that prevented him from collapsing. He tried to lash out, but the enforcer brought the rifle down on his hurt hand. Hammer curled forward, screaming with the pain.