The Bloom Series Box Set: Bloom & Fade

by A. P. Kensey

  “Huh,” he said, then went into the next room. After a long glance at the distance muzzle-flashes where Roku and Marius fought the guards, Haven followed after him.

  An enormous vat was in the middle of the room; a giant white tank with a huge window in its side that revealed a deep sea of thick, clear liquid. A woman wearing a sealed chemical biohazard suit stood on a small metal platform that reached out over the tank. She held a long wire that dipped down into the vat. After a few moments, she pulled up the wire and read a measurement from a small black box attached to the end.

  Several more workers buzzed around the tank, tweaking machinery connected to the circular wall. Others sat at computer workstations that were shielded by thick sheets of Plexiglas. All of the workers wore full biohazard suits. They stopped what they were doing when Bastian stepped away from the door and walked toward the vat. He was lit up like the Olympic torch.

  “Don’t anybody move,” he said, loud and clear, looking at each of the workers. One of the men turned to run and a stream of yellow plasma licked out from Bastian’s arm and hit him in the leg. The man yelled in pain and lay on the ground, peeling away strips of melting suit before it burned into his skin. “Probably hard of hearing,” said Bastian to the other workers. They didn’t laugh.

  “Everybody up,” said Haven. She walked over to the row of workstations and pulled people out of their seats. Their crinkling body suits made it difficult for them to move quickly, like low-budget astronauts trapped in zero gravity. Quick, scared breaths fogged the insides of their flimsy masks. Haven herded them all next to the tank. She pointed to a cluster of pipes running out of the vat and up to the ceiling. “Which one of these is flammable?”

  Bastian looked at her with confusion, then he realized what she meant to do and smiled wolfishly. “Yeah,” he said, taking a step forward and letting his fire reach out for the workers. They took a frightened step backward and bumped into the vat. “Speak up if you don’t wanna be cooked alive in your suits!”

  The woman on the platform over the tank said, “That one,” and pointed to a fat pipe separate from the others. It ran up to the ceiling as well, but criss-crossed around and through the others on its circuitous route to the wall.

  “Don’t lie to me,” said Haven, putting as much acid into her threat as she could. “I’m already at my limit for the day.”

  The woman shook her head. “I’m not. I know what we’re making.” She looked relieved as she pointed at the pipe again.

  “Run,” said Haven, turning to the workers. “Go on, get out of here!”

  Bastian reached out for them with yellow fire but the workers scrambled out of the exit before his energy touched them. The woman on the platform slid down a metal ladder over the side of the vat and ran past without looking back.

  “What’d you let ‘em go for?” asked Bastian. “They deserve to be in here when this place turns inside out.”

  Haven ignored him. She went to the fat pipe and found the point where it was attached to the vat. She pulled just enough energy from inside of her to shear the pipe from its setting; with one quick explosion of blue plasma, its circular opening hung loose against the vat wall. Clear brown liquid sloshed within.

  “Here,” she said, pulling the pipe as far from the vat as she could. The thick metal tube groaned in protest as she strained to make enough room for Bastian’s hand. “Light it up.”

  “With pleasure,” he said.

  30

  Haven wondered how Bastian drew on his power. For her it was the blue star, burning bright in her mind’s eye. Marius had told her his method was to imagine his hands swelling with orange fire until it became too much to contain.

  Fresh yellow flame shot out from Bastian’s arms—and then vanished. He looked down at his hands, confused.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Haven. “Why did you stop?”

  “I didn’t!” said Bastian. He tried again, and only managed to produced tiny puffs of yellow fire, like an empty lighter being sparked repeatedly.

  Haven saw movement out of the corner of her eye. The thin man stood in the doorway, eyes black as coal, staring right at her.

  “Bastian,” she said as she backed away. “Now would be a good time to fix that problem.”

  “I’m trying! He’s taking everything as soon as I let it go.”

  The thin man approached them slowly. Haven and Bastian backed into the tank.

  “Any bright ideas?” asked Bastian.

  “Yeah,” said Haven. “Burn this place to the ground.”

  “What are you going to—”

  Haven ran away from the tank before he could finish. She headed straight at the thin man, not entirely sure of her own plan. He seemed confused by her approach, and then his confusion turned to amusement as she drew closer. Haven tried to call on her energy and even managed to send out a few blue flames in his direction, but he was absorbing everything with his Conduit ability and stopping the fire before it got close.

  She screamed and threw herself into the air, bringing her knees up at the last second. They sank into his stomach. He let out a woooof of air and buckled in half. All of his focus had been on absorbing Haven’s Source energy and he hadn’t expected an outright physical attack. They crumpled to the ground together in a thrashing heap. Haven grabbed his head and slammed it against the concrete floor.

  “Do it!’ she shouted to Bastian.

  He ran to the broken pipe on the side of the tank and put his arm inside of it up to his elbow, then closed his eyes. Sweat beaded on his face and his body shook as he concentrated. The liquid in the pipe boiled.

  The thin man sat up and reached out for Haven. His hands wrapped around her throat and he squeezed until she could no longer breathe. He grinned as he sucked the life out of her, drawing on her energy until her heart slowed and stopped. Haven’s vision blurred as she looked over at Bastian.

  An enormous yellow fireball erupted from his arm and shot into the pipe. He jumped back and dove for cover as an explosive chain reaction ran from the bottom of the pipe up to the top. The yellow fireball obliterated the pipe as it rushed toward the ceiling, exploding it outward like a cannonball fired into a cardboard tube.

  The thin man released Haven and stood.

  “No!’ he screamed, running toward the tank. “No-no-NO!”

  Haven gasped for air and her vision cleared. Bastian scrambled over and hauled her to her feet.

  “Time to go,” she said. They ran away from the spreading flames. The fireball exploded and the entire ceiling was consumed. Other pipes caught fire and flaming snakes crawled across the ceiling, following the paths of the tubes as they twisted throughout the entire complex.

  The thin man stood by the tank at the base of the broken pipe, gripping it tightly, absorbing as much flame as he could—but there was too much. His skin erupted with yellow fire as he tried to extinguish the chaotic inferno. He looked up at the ceiling hopelessly, then he turned to Haven. His eyes were burning holes of blinding yellow plasma. He opened his mouth to scream but all that came out was a burst of yellow lava. It rolled down his chin and over his chest.

  Haven closed her eyes and turned away. Bastian took her hand and led her back into the packaging room. Marius and Roku ran toward them, breathing heavily from their own battle. Marius had a large scratch down one side of his face and Roku was still holding his injured side, but otherwise they seemed little worse than before.

  “No more guards,” said Marius. “We go now, or no more us.” He pushed the others away from the vat room, toward the door leading to the small storage room through which they had arrived.

  Behind them, the fire broke through the wall, racing along the cluster of pipes overhead and across the ceiling. The machine nearest the wall exploded as fire shot down its feeder pipe from above. Chunks of metal whistled through the air, piercing everything around like shrapnel from a fragmentation grenade.

  Something sharp hit Haven’s shoulder and sank into her skin. She cried out in pain
but did not stop running.

  More machines exploded across the room as fire streaked down the feeder tubes attached to the ceiling. Haven caught a quick glimpse of a cart filled with metal syringes and saw a terrifying image of what would happen if a machine exploded nearby. The syringes would be propelled through the room like bullets and would tear through her skin just as easily.

  She was at the back of the line. Roku was right in front of her, stumbling to keep up with the others. Haven urged him forward as they ducked around burning equipment. Finally they reached the locked door that led to the small storage room.

  Marius let out a bellowing roar and kicked the door in the middle. It flew off its hinges and exploded into the next room. He went through, with Bastian and Roku close behind. Haven turned to look back.

  The ceiling was a patchy blanket of yellow flame. Much of it was already open to the early morning sky—huge chunks of metal sheeting had fallen to the floor, igniting everything they touched. Machines exploded like enormous fireworks across the vast warehouse.

  Haven stood there, transfixed, seeing again the destruction of her own home as it was consumed by insatiable fire.

  A hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her into the next room.

  “We are leaving!” shouted Marius. He jumped into the driver’s seat of the truck they had used to sneak into the building. Roku and Bastian climbed onto the bed and threw off some of the plastic containers. The two of them sat with their backs to the cab and held on tight.

  The truck was already lurching forward when Haven ran around to the passenger’s side and jumped in. She slammed the door just as the remaining ceiling collapsed around them. The truck groaned in protest as Marius grinded the gears and forced it onward, through the wreckage.

  A second later they were clear of the destruction and driving away. The last chunk of flaming debris slid off the hood of the truck. Haven looked back quickly to check on Roku and Bastian. They were still on the bed of the truck, coughing and brushing ash from their clothes and hair. She sat back and a sharp pain stabbed her shoulder. She reached back gently and her fingers brushed a sharp piece of metal. Haven closed her eyes and yanked it out, stifling a scream. The strip of metal was long but very thin, like a slender icicle. Haven threw it out the window and wiped her hand on her pants. Then she used some of her own energy to seal the wound.

  Marius drove to the top of a small dune nearby and swung the truck around to face the building. Firelight danced across the windshield as the building collapsed violently onto itself.

  Roku and Bastian stood up in the back and leaned on the roof of the cab as explosion after explosion leveled the complex. The middle of the packaging room was already extinguished, the fire having burnt its way through every possible fuel source. All that remained was a blackened skeleton, its fingers reaching up toward the dawn sky.

  Workers in white lab coats ran screaming from the chaos and gathered in a small group a short distance away. They sat watching the building burn, huddled together in the desert. Haven wondered what would become of them; if Alistair would take pity and relocate them to a new facility or if he would wipe them all out for their incompetence.

  For most of them—the ones who hadn’t known what they were really making—Haven felt deep pity. For the others, she was simultaneously shocked and relieved to find that she didn’t care either way.

  31

  Dormer rolled up the papers and hid them away in his coat. He and Colton trotted through the Grove toward the exit.

  “What do you think will happen if we don’t take out all of the soldiers?” asked Colton.

  “Let’s hope we don’t find out. First we need to secure the others in one location to minimize the risk of retaliation.”

  “Where?”

  “Marius and Corva’s room. We won’t be able to move the refugees quickly enough to get them anywhere else, so it’s best to bring everyone else to them.”

  “June can help.”

  “The chef?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Lunch was amazing,” said Dormer. “Best meal I’ve had in weeks.”

  They slowed their pace as they left the Grove and walked into the dome room. The soldiers positioned nearby stiffened at their approach.

  “At ease, gentlemen,” said Dormer as he and Colton passed, heading toward the dormitory hallway. The soldiers exchanged a brief glance.

  The kitchen was empty. The aroma of slightly-burnt cake still clung to the air and made Colton’s mouth water as he passed.

  The hallway split in two a little farther down. Colton took the left branch, toward Corva and the medical center refugees. Dormer went right to find Noah and Micah.

  Colton spun the wheel to Marius and Corva’s room and pushed it open. Inside, June knelt next to Corva’s bed. The medical center refugees lay on their cots, thick blankets covering their shivering bodies. One of them turned to look at Colton with dread in his eyes.

  “It’s alright,” said Colton as he entered the room. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  June dabbed Corva’s head with a wet cloth. Colton knelt next to her.

  “June, it’s time.”

  “Finally,” she said.

  Dormer appeared in the doorway. “No sign of the boys.”

  Colton’s stomach sank to think what would happen if Noah and Micah weren’t safe when the shooting started. “They’re probably in the training room, horsing around.”

  “We don’t have time!” said Dormer. “Shift change is in two minutes.”

  “I’ll get them,” said June. “Do what you need to do.”

  Dormer nodded and turned to Colton. “Right. They’re going to be crossing paths in front of the door that leads to the elevator. Two will be stationed there already, and the others will be passing on the way to their next post. We hit them hard and take down as many as we can. But…”

  “But what?!” said Colton eagerly.

  “But two of them won’t be with the others.”

  “Let me guess,” said Colton. “They’re guarding the training room.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll handle them,” said June. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Colton and Dormer looked at her doubtfully.

  “I said don’t worry about it,” she repeated.

  “What about Kamiko?” asked Colton.

  “We can only hope she’s somewhere else. Enough talk, we need to move.”

  Colton and June followed him down the long hallway toward the dome room. As they left the comfortable shadows of the hall and stepped into the bright morning light pouring down through the open hole in the ceiling, Colton never felt more naked in his life. The soldiers who were usually guarding both sides of the dormitory hallway were gone. Across the room, the sound of boots tromping loudly over concrete echoed near the thick door that guarded the elevator hallway.

  “Wish me luck,” said June, and before Colton could do just that, she was off, walking quickly toward the training room. The two soldiers positioned near the door watched her approach.

  “Let’s go,” whispered Dormer.

  He led Colton straight toward the middle of the room, through a long corridor of shelves that made up part of Dormer’s workshop. They crouched low to keep the soldiers across the room from seeing them over the debris of the crushed fire pit. Colton looked around, worried Kamiko would pop into view any second. She was nowhere in sight. They reached the pile of debris near the fire pit and Dormer stopped. Colton’s stomach clenched when he saw the soldiers in front of the door ahead.

  Two stood on either side, talking to each other in low voices. They seemed a lot more relaxed than usual, and Colton wondered if this shift change was the two minutes out of their day where they could have a normal conversation. Two more soldiers came up and joined them while still more walked by on the way to their next post.

  “Do you have enough juice for all of them?” whispered Colton.

  “We’ll find out,” said Dormer. He stepped out from beh
ind the mound of debris and walked toward the soldiers. Colton, unsure about what to do, followed him closely, expecting at any moment to be cut in half by a storm of bullets.

  The training room door opened to his left and June appeared. She had Micah on her hip and held Noah’s hand. The soldiers to either side of her paid little attention. She looked right at Colton and froze. He waved her back into the room and she disappeared. The two soldiers by the training room were finally able to see Dormer and Colton stepping clear of the shelves and approaching the door to the elevator.

  One of the soldiers ran into the training room, after June. The other shouted, “Hey!” and raised his rifle.

  “It’s happening now,” said Dormer. He shoved Colton to the ground as the other soldiers noticed him. They raised their rifles and aimed right at Dormer’s head as he approached with his arms raised.

  When the nearest soldier took a step forward, Dormer brought his hands down and clapped him on the sides of his helmet, just over his temples. The lights over the elevator hallway door flickered and blinked out. The soldier collapsed to the floor. His rifle fell from his hands and Dormer kicked it across the floor to Colton, who picked it up and slung the strap over his shoulder.

  The soldiers rushed Dormer. He stood, fists closed, waiting.

  Colton grabbed the gun and aimed at one of the two soldiers still standing near the elevator hallway door. They hadn’t moved toward Dormer with the rest of their pals. The gun felt too heavy in Colton’s hands, as if it would drag him down if he fired a single round.

  He found the trigger and squeezed. The muzzle-flashes blocked out his vision, and when he lowered his rifle, the two soldiers by the elevator hallway door were out of the fight.

  More gunfire erupted nearby and Colton dove for cover. He flipped over an empty metal table and huddled behind it, inspecting his gun and wishing he knew how to check his ammo count. He looked across the dome at the training room door.

  The second soldier that had been guarding the room went inside after June.