by Jessica Gunn
I swallowed hard. “Where Truman died,” I finished for him. “I know. Why’d he send you on missions like that?”
“Because we went after SeaSat5,” Weyland said. “Because of that, the General assumed we could handle the Lemurians on our own, and wouldn’t accept the fact that even as bounty hunters, they’re our allies. That Atlantis is the bad guy.” He coughed, chest shaking with the effort, and he winced. He clutched his left side with one hand.
“What happened?” I wouldn’t get him help without knowing whose side he was on. Not that I’d rather he be dead. I just didn’t want General Allen to have anything more to use against me and SeaSat5.
Trevor caught my gaze over Weyland’s head, pleading. Call 911.
He said no hospitals, I thought back at him. There’s got to be a reason, and I want to know what that is.
“The General…” Weyland trailed off. “He called me into his office about a week ago and demanded information about you that I didn’t have.” Weyland’s eyes found Trevor. “And about you, about your family and the other Lemurians. He wanted to know about the outpost we found two years ago and about what happened on the rescue mission.”
“Rescuing SeaSat5—that mission was deemed classified,” Trevor said. “Because of what we found out about Dave and the war.”
Weyland nodded. “Exactly. So I told him nothing, and he attacked me.”
I frowned and reached out for Weyland’s good arm. Goosebumps rose up my skin at the contact, at someone who used to be my friend. “He hurt me too.”
“I know,” he said. “Josh told us. But Josh also drugged you and all the others seemed to be following along with our new directives. I… I’ve known them for two years, Chelsea. Ever since I left SeaSat5. Who they are now…” His eyes tightened around his emotions, but I knew I would never in a million years see Weyland cry. Not ever. “They’re not the same people anymore. Something’s changed and I don’t know what. And Josh…”
My chest tightened. Plummeted. Bottomed-out. “Josh what?”
Weyland gulped and shook his head, his gaze dropping to the floor. “He didn’t make it, Chelsea. I’m so sorry.”
“What?” The question passed my lips as barely more than a whisper. “How?” No. A cold chill swept up my spine as a dark cloud descended upon me. A cry escaped my lips before I clamped them shut. He’s dead? My chest tightened, I didn’t have time to think about that. Not while Weyland was bleeding all over the couch.
Weyland glanced up at me. “You really want to know right now?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t.”
No one spoke. Weyland’s hand found mine and I let him hold it for a few seconds before pulling back. Josh. God, no. Why? I swallowed the news down and locked it away tight. Not right now. Not right now.
Trevor pointed to the deep cut on Weyland’s head that wouldn’t stop bleeding. “How’d you get that?”
“He attacked you again,” I guessed through my agony. Dammit, why did I care?
“Worse than before.” Weyland’s eyes met mine and I froze at the intensity of his gaze. “I think I have to tell you something now.”
My breathing slowed. I didn’t dare look away for fear of what might happen. I’d never, not once, seen Weyland’s gaze take on this raw seriousness, this mix of guilt and fear and apprehension. What could possibly be worse than him telling me Josh died? “What?”
His eyes dropped a millimeter. “That day on SeaSatellite5 when I found you wandering around, when you were lost…”
My eyes narrowed and my brows scrunched together. “What about that day?” It’d been years since I first stepped foot on SeaSat5.
His voice was a low whisper, barely audible when he said, “I didn’t happen to find you. I felt you. I… Before that, when you first teleported aboard, my anger about the situation stemmed from this feeling”—his fists balled—“you gave me, this awareness of where you were at all times. It scared the living shit out of me.”
And now he was scaring me. Panic seeped into any and all raw nerves I had left. “What are you saying, Weyland?” Although, the more he went on, the more a sour feeling spread through my stomach; I knew exactly what he was about to say. The awareness of my presence, the attack on him by General Allen… it all had only one explanation.
Weyland said, “Before he attacked me, General Allen stuck me with liquid from a vial. It made me weak. Like that crap Thompson pumped into you on the Bridge two years ago.” Weyland’s words turned into a cough that wracked his entire body. Blood crept out between his lips.
I tightened my hold on his arm, hoping to keep him steady if not force healing I knew wouldn’t come. Healing people… that wasn’t a power I had, as much as I’d wished for it. “It slows me down. It’s like an anti-Atlantean serum. But Weyland, we have to get you to SeaSat5. You’re not doing good at all.” I stood, aiming to just teleport him against his will.
He lunged out and grabbed my hand with his. “No. Wait, just wait. Don’t you understand what I’m saying?”
I nodded slowly, though I didn’t want to believe. Didn’t know how what he’d said was true. But there was no other possible explanation for the General’s attacks.
“What?” Trevor asked, his gaze jumping from mine to Weyland’s. “What’s going on?”
Weyland wiped the blood from his mouth before saying, “The General was shutting down the Atlantean super soldier side of me. I’m a super soldier, too.”
10
Trevor
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked.
Chelsea’s face took on a shade of green that set me even further on edge. Weyland, an Atlantean. An Atlantean super soldier. What in the hell was going on?
Weyland glanced my way. “I thought I was strong, you know? But after every mission with TruGates that I made it out of recovery faster than the others, after meeting up with you and Chelsea again, after fitting it all together…” He looked back to Chelsea. “I think I’ve known for a while, but denied it. I didn’t want it to be true; I didn’t know what to make of it. How this is possible. I’m a military brat, a soldier, yeah. But not Atlantean.”
Chelsea looked him over, took her fingers off his arm and wiggled them in the air between she and him. “I’ve never felt you like I can Sophia,” she said. “Not until I grabbed your arm right now. Not once did I think you were one of us.”
“Me either,” he admitted. “I don’t have active powers like you. I can’t control water—at least, I don’t think I can. I’ve never tried. But I heal fast and, apparently, I can teleport. To you, ironically enough.”
“You teleported out of the attack?” Chelsea asked.
Weyland nodded. “Barely in time. God, I can’t believe this.” He rolled his head back onto his shoulders. “Now that I’m gone and Josh… no one’s watching out for Eric or Mara. No one’s going to be there when they come to their senses.”
How was Chelsea taking this, Weyland a super soldier and Josh dead? I looked to her. Chelsea’s expression was unreadable. Emotions warred in her head at such a speed that even our shared bond couldn’t capture them long enough to tell me.
“General Allen has been hunting Atlantean super soldiers,” I said, offering what comfort I could, although I knew it was little. “Valerie told us that, and then Chelsea found the General’s secret lab where he’d been keeping them. That’s why he went after Chelsea, and if you hadn’t gotten out of there when you did, he’d probably have killed you.”
“I know,” Weyland said. “That’s why I don’t want to go to a hospital. I don’t want him to know where I am.”
“I hate to say it, but he probably figured it out,” Chelsea said, frowning. “Process of elimination. There’re only so many places newfound teleportation powers can send you. If you thought you were in danger and you connected the super soldier dots, that’s why you came here. You teleported to where you knew you’d be safe, a place—a person—you have a connection to.”
Weyland’s eyes widened and he stood abrupt
ly. “Erin. Oh god, Erin.”
Chelsea laid a hand on his shoulder. “I can get her. Just tell me where she is.”
Shaking his head quickly, Weyland took a step forward despite Chelsea’s minimal restraints. “No, she’s not safe. I need to go. I need to get her.”
Who was Erin? His wife?
Girlfriend, Chelsea thought. Erin’s his girlfriend. Now help me.
I followed the command and grabbed hold of Weyland’s other shoulder before touching a hand to Chelsea’s. Chills shot up my spine at the contact, but I stomped down any feelings. I couldn’t have that with her anymore. I couldn’t feel that for her anymore. Besides, what Weyland had just told us about Josh…
“Come on, big guy,” Chelsea said through gritted teeth. She wasn’t kidding. Weyland was strong as hell, but equally as hurt. He’d left bloodstains on the couch in the band’s break room and his breaths had turned more toward wheezing. “Hold on tight, everybody.”
And then we were gone.
Weyland went absolutely berserk. He fought against Chelsea’s hold, screaming Erin’s name over and over again. I was less effective. He had no issue flinging me off of him like a fly. I slammed into a wall—nearly identical to the way Chelsea had removed Dave when we’d met in the Franklin’s back alley years ago—and slid down it, wind knocked out of me.
“Sophia!” I called into my radio as soon as we landed. She was probably in the next Infirmary room over, still helping Abby, but I didn’t want to chance anything.
Sophia rushed the room and went straight for Weyland, who kept on fighting. Chelsea had one of Weyland’s arms around him and a foot behind his knee. She shoved him down.
Sophia’s eyes went wide as she gripped Weyland’s bulging arms. “What—?”
“Later,” Chelsea snapped.
Sophia stepped in for Chelsea and slipped an arm around Weyland’s neck, choking him out to put him under. He stopped fighting within seconds. Sophia looked up at the attendants and at Dr. Gordon, who’d entered the room on their heels. “Let’s move him before he wakes up. And make sure to use the strongest restrains we have.”
Sophia went with them as they moved Weyland to a hospital bed, never removing her hand from his chest. Chelsea watched the scene from afar, unmoving, as they cared for Weyland. Her eyes were wide, fists balling.
“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching out for her. But then I remembered I was probably the last person she wanted comfort from.
Her eyes saw past me, watching Weyland be carried out. “I just played the show of a lifetime then discovered my old friend is also an Atlantean super soldier, and is also being hunted by the same General who killed my ex-boyfriend and probably brainwashed my friends. I’m freaking peachy.” She straightened, her body tensing like it did before she was about to teleport.
“Where are you going?”
“To get Erin before General Allen does,” she said. “She probably doesn’t have much time, and I can’t have that on my conscious too.” She nodded to the doorway through which they’d taken Weyland. “Be there when he wakes up, okay?”
“Wait,” I said, reaching out to her as she went to teleport. “Do you even know where—” But Chelsea had already disappeared in a waterfall cascade of lights. “He could have told you exactly where Erin was…”
I joined the group in the next room over as Weyland woke up. Dr. Gordon stood off to the side, needle in-hand in case he went berserk again. It must have been full of something that’d take down an elephant. Normal sedatives didn’t work on Chelsea. Not that I feared Weyland. He wasn’t the first super soldier I’d dealt with.
He awoke slowly at first, then all at once, trying to jump off the bed. “Erin!”
Sophia hovered her hand over his chest. “Calm down, Lieutenant, or I’ll put you under again.”
His gaze shot to Sophia’s. “You did that. You’re like me, aren’t you?”
“And you’re like me,” she echoed. “I don’t know why I didn’t sense it sooner.”
“Me either,” he said, relaxing back into the bed. He looked around the room. “Where’s Chelsea?”
“She went to get your girlfriend,” I answered. “She’s going to bring her here.” Assuming General Allen hadn’t set one awful trap for Chelsea to walk right into. Crap. I should have made her take me with her. Just in case.
Weyland slammed his head against the pillow. “Erin’s going to freak out. And she’s not my girlfriend—we’re engaged.” He looked at the restrains on his hands, feet, and waist. “You can remove these.”
“Not a chance, Lieutenant,” Dr. Gordon said, stepping forward. “It took two super soldiers to take you down. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m not confident in your faculties after that display—which, by the way, you should have told me about. I could have helped you understand.”
Weyland looked down at his chest. “I didn’t put it together until after SeaSat5 had been taken. I’m sorry, Dr. Gordon.”
She placed a hand on his shin, not daring to come closer. She was Atlantean herself, but not a super soldier. “It’s okay, Lieutenant. We’ll remove your restraints in a little bit. Let’s give you time to calm down.”
He didn’t argue.
“There’re more of you.”
Every head in the room turned toward the quiet, strained voice emanating from the doorway.
“So many of you,” Abby continued. She’d poked her head into the room, her fingers wrapped tightly around the doorframe. “So many.” Her voice was so small, so scared, it snapped something inside of me.
I rushed to her side, seeking out her hands. “It’s okay. He’s a friend.”
“You’re friends with them,” she spat, shoving me away. “They’re the enemy, Trevor.” Her glare cut from me to Weyland. “How can you be friends with so many Atlanteans?”
Her venomous words struck me to the core. She wasn’t afraid; she was angry. Vengeful.
Abby stepped out of my embrace and reared back her hand. Fire sparked in her palm and grew into a raging fireball. She lunged forward, throwing the fireball directly at Weyland. Alarms in the room went off instantly, the sprinklers not far behind as the shrill call continued. Weyland’s eyes widened, but Sophia stepped in front of both him and Dr. Gordon, swinging at the air. Water followed her hand and doused Abby’s flame.
“What’s going on?” I heard from the hallway. I spun to find Freddy in the doorway, fire extinguisher in-hand. He must have heard the alarm and been in the area.
“Freddy, no!” I warned him. It wasn’t safe in here, not with Weyland going crazy and Abby attacking people—
Too late.
Abby spun and—not bothering to distinguish friend from foe—launched a second fireball at Freddy.
Sophia gathered another wave and threw it out into the fireball’s path, but she wasn’t fast enough. The fireball slammed into his arm and he cried out, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. My stomach roiled. Abby screamed, terrified at what she’d done, and ran into my arms. I didn’t want to comfort her. I wanted to check on Freddy, to make sure he was okay.
“Let me out!” Weyland shouted. “I can help him. Let me out of these things!”
“Get her out of here,” Dr. Gordon yelled.
Too much was going on. Can’t concentrate. Logically, I knew Dr. Gordon wanted me to remove Abby from the room, but I was frozen, stuck between my terrified cousin and my injured friend.
Sophia pushed past me and slapped a hand onto Abby, teleporting her from the room in a shower of topaz. Would Abby attack her next?
“Please,” Weyland screamed again. “I can help him! Let me out of here.”
Freddy writhed on the floor even as attendants dispersed the fire and put damp towels on him.
Dr. Gordon looked between Weyland and me, thinking fast. “Do it,” she said to me. “Free him.”
I ran to the bed and undid Weyland’s restraints. He jumped off in spite of his injuries and ran over to Freddy, falling on his knees next to him. Weyland held h
is hands over Freddy’s wound, over the bone and burned muscle peeking through. A dark blue hue formed beneath Weyland’s fingers and, over the course of long, agonizing moments, the burn closed up. Healed.
When Freddy’s arm looked like it hadn’t been touched at all, Weyland fell back on his ass onto the floor, winded and pale.
Freddy looked at him. “How? I mean, thank you, man. But how?”
Weyland shook his head, an action that slid into a slow decline of his body to the floor. The exertion of whatever he’d done to heal Freddy, in combination with this own injuries, had taken its toll on him. He fell unconscious, leaving the rest of us to figure out how the hell Weyland had obtained healing abilities.
He’s an Atlantean super soldier. Was healing others a power the soldiers had?
“Get him a gurney,” Dr. Gordon ordered her attendants. She knelt on the floor next to Freddy to examine Weyland’s work. “It’s completely healed.” She looked at us of each in turn. “What is going on with everybody?”
I kept my answers to myself. We already knew the station was the center of the war. The center of everyone’s powers.
Turned out it was the center of magical refugee efforts, too.
11
Chelsea
The apartment I teleported into was empty, save for some furniture and all the memories of people I used to care about. The counter where Josh and I had first kissed, the couch where he’d drugged me. All of it overwhelmed me almost immediately, and yet, I was alone with Erin nowhere in sight.
I paced around the unlit kitchen and living room. I didn’t know Erin that well. We’d hung out a few times over the course of my tenure at TruGates, but I was usually with Josh. There had to be some way to get to her. A connection I could use. What were the odds she’d left a trail to follow? Low. But if she had, it’d probably be in her and Weyland’s room.
