Soul Finder (The Immortal Gene Book 2)

by Jacinta Maree

  I didn’t look down. I didn’t search the tunnel for the yellow-tagged girl, who I knew must still be in here. I kept my attention on the drifter, steering him back onto the correct path.

  Riki moved slowly past the balls of wire and deeper into the tunnel. Eventually, we approached a red door on the side that opened into a stairway. We climbed upward into a damp and deserted substation, stepping carefully through the broken ticketing machines and up toward the open surface.

  Warm sunlight kissed my skin. Between the smear of grey clouds, yellow light skimmed over the buildings in golden waves. Birds took flight. The smell of fresh dirt reminded me of home. Surrounding the exit stood structures I had never seen before. Tracks on stilts lined the perimeter in twists and turns, dips and sharp inclines. It appeared as though the entire yard was filled with these oddly shaped contraptions. Among them was a thing made up of six giant tea cups on a metal platform, there was a carousel of partially destroyed plastic horses with poles drilled through their midriffs and rows of stores that had been barricaded. Age chipped the paint, eating away the enormous smile on one of the clown paintings arched over the entry. Beyond the decay and smudges of filth, brightness once filled this place. Red stripes. Yellow dots. Blue tents. Happiness coloured the walls from times where happiness was easy to find.

  “What is this place?” I pivoted slowly, craning my head back at an enormous wheel with interconnected pipes woven into a centre point. Enclosed carriages dangled around the wheel’s rim with cardboard boxes cut out for windows and blinds. Strong winds rocked them gently. This place felt like it was once alive.

  “Just an old amusement park. I swear, every time I’m here, I can still hear the music. Dudu-dodidodi- du-du-dodo.” He started singing.

  “What do these machines do?”

  “They are rides.”

  “Rides for what?”

  “For fun. Duh!”

  I looked back at the giant wheel again, unable to imagine what fun could be had from it. Do the carriages shoot off into the air? Does the wheel unhitch from its pegs and roll down the hill? I cringed at the imagery. Sounds horrifying.

  We kept walking beyond the old amusement park and into what remained of a thinning suburb. People took residence among the broken shelves of the apartment blocks, homemade tents concealing the missing walls destroyed by air strikes. We walked toward a flattened, barren field beyond the houses. Train tracks crisscrossed over the block into four lanes where old metal carriages anchored the tracks where they had been abandoned.

  Gunshots rang over the sound of children’s laughter. Among the maze of abandoned carts a group of children played, ducking in between the carriages for coverage. Standing on one of the tin roofs a small gunman aimed downward, trying to shoot them. Screams of excitement bounced off the metal walls. I found myself in a trance watching them. They reminded me a lot of home. Death was just a game. A game we could cheat over and over again. Even the drifter laughed.

  “Come on, we’re nearly there,” Riki beckoned. Just beyond the trains was a gated community surrounding a large industrial plantation. Watch towers bookended the armoured entrance with missile launchers watching the sky. We turned off the dirt road and toward a large warehouse off centre to the field. Inside the warehouse were more empty carriages and old train parts.

  Miranda was waiting. Leaning forward, her palms against a table, she read a map sprawled out in front. As we entered, Booza cut across to us, gun raised. I turned away as it scanned Riki.

  “Identification approved.” The machine stepped back.

  Riki took the drifter from me and tied him to the door handle. We walked over. It smelt weird. Dirty but not a smell I am used to. Yellow wheat layered the floor. Miranda barely looked up. She was busy on her phone, punching in codes and coordinates. She snapped her fingers impatiently at Riki.

  “Riki, come!” Riki huddled in. I stuck to the outer circle, unsure if I was meant to be listening. Miranda spoke loudly, not caring that I was there. “These areas are where I want you to go. They have launchers here and here, but if you cut the power it should disable them long enough for our getaway. We’ll be in and out within thirty minutes.”

  “I’ll need to get to their power outlet.”

  “Already covered. Patricia and Callous have planted the transmitter in this area. Here’s zone red, centre building. Booza will be our first infiltrator, Callous and Patricia will take these wings and, Riki, you are to burn the roads. Keep the power off.”

  I blinked dumbly at her instructions. Miranda’s hand snapped up to her earpiece. “What is it? What? Are you sure? Shit!” She disconnected the call.

  “Something wrong?”

  “That was Callous. She just confirmed the men who moved in belong to the Blue Dons.”

  My ears warmed.

  “Should we retreat?” Riki asked gently.

  “No. No, this is too big of a hit.”

  “I’ll call in Le’Ron and Brien.”

  “No. We can handle it on our own.”

  Riki fidgeted. “If they capture one of us—”

  “If you get caught the chips will take care of you. Just bite down.”

  Vance and Frankie’s words leapt to the front of my mind. The plan to include the Dons felt as distant as the cure its self. I had nothing to offer them, and if I stayed with FRIM, I doubt they’ll want to cooperate with an organisation that’s set on blowing up their base.

  “New girl?”

  I looked up at Miranda’s bark. “Yes?”

  “This is a snatch and ditch operation. Have you ever done something like this before?”

  My eyes widened. “Yes, of course,” I automatically lied.

  “You will drop off the Greenie. Direct the focus to this point over here.” She circled an area far left on the map. “This will also help aid our getaway, so it’s really important that you set it off correctly. When you are within range of the transmitter, the countdown will start. Green must be in this circle for detonation. You’ll have a twenty-second countdown before it explodes. It should be enough time to get under cover. Report back here immediately. Be ready, ladies. We’ll hit this off in one hour.”

  I sat on the edge of the metal carriage, letting my legs swing beneath me. Miranda and Riki remained at the back of the warehouse, going over coordinates and timing. Miranda must trust me more than she trusted the other leaders at FRIM. That said something about their relationship.

  The drifter sat on the ground and ran his fingers through the dirt. He was writing numbers and complicated equations. Maybe he thought he was at the office.

  “So…” I tensed as Riki rounded me. He crossed his arms and leaned against the carriage next to where I sat. “What are you going to do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you going to run?”

  The question felt heavy. He didn’t trust me, and I didn’t blame him. Honestly, I didn’t trust him either. The knife I had taken rested against me, hiding behind my body.

  “Will you chase me down?” I asked. Riki smiled. I glanced back at Miranda as she worked on Booza. “Why am I here? She can’t possibly trust me enough for something like this.”

  “She doesn’t. She doesn’t trust anyone.”

  “She trusts you.”

  “Only because she can blow me up if she needs to. You’re here because of Krane.”

  I glanced back. “What about him?”

  “She knows there’s more to you than he pretends. It’s in his behaviour. In the way he watches you, in the way he avoids your routine.”

  “There’s nothing between me and Diesel.”

  The joking tone in Riki’s voice dropped. “We both know that’s a lie. What do you think happens to someone who has survived purely on brutality and cruelty, to suddenly be shown compassion? Your manipulation becomes a drug to them. One that will crack his sanity faster than any illness. People like Krane are not loved. They do not feel trust and kindness. They are hollow, only capable of taking what’s good
and twisting it in their deluded, paranoid minds until it’s as broken and bleak as they are. We will all become like that. Sooner or later we will become strays like him. And you don’t feed the strays, Nadia.”

  The word manipulation hit a sore spot in my chest. Anger flared up. I was more. I wanted to be more. I wanted more from others. But it wasn’t a thing people were willing to give. Diesel wasn’t a stray. I know it because I have seen his insecurities and have felt the warmth of his concern. I had felt it in the way he loved me, in the way he kissed and scratched and breathed heavily into my neck. He wasn’t hollow, he wasn’t incapable of love or kindness. Riki, like so many people in this world, were wrong about him.

  “So, she brought me along to make sure Diesel can’t sneak me away?”

  “She brought you along as a show.”

  “A show of what?”

  Miranda approached. “Enough chatting. Riki, it’s time.”

  Riki nodded and took off. I stepped off the carriage and wringed my hands nervously. Miranda watched me. Her eyes became tight with suspicion. Or doubt. Or was it confusion? I couldn’t tell. After a few moments she walked over and reached for my pocket. I quickly grabbed for the knife but she caught my wrist and held it back.

  She revealed the weapon and dangled it inches from my face. “This belongs to me.” She let my wrist go and I took a step back. The drifter started clapping behind us. She soothed her finger along the edge. “The more I watch you, the more I can’t figure out what you are.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “For instance, how is it that I haven’t given you an ounce of D400 yet you are completely fine?”

  I sucked my breath in. I had been clumsy. “Diesel has been sneaking me doses,” I quickly answered.

  “We’re not giving any to him either.”

  “Someone is sneaking it to him. I don’t know who.”

  My answer made her smile. “You’re not a very good liar. Now, you have one chance to tell me the truth. Why are you here?”

  I licked my lips nervously. “To steal the D400 formula.”

  “From the Elite?” she guessed.

  “Yes. Diesel is helping me—”

  “Krane is a liar. He is not here to help you.”

  “Diesel isn’t Krane,” I objected.

  Miranda’s smile widened. “You truly believe so, don’t you? How tragic. We cannot change who we are. We are the stripes on a tiger, always the same pattern underneath each coat. Has Krane explained to you what he wants?”

  “He wants the formula too.”

  “And you believe him?” She tossed the knife back. “I hope you’re ready for the truth when it is revealed.”

  She turned and pulled the drifter to his feet. She took the leash from the door handle, lifted the Green’s top up and stuck a bulky device onto his hip.

  As she handed me the leash, I couldn’t help but ask, “Why am I here, Miranda? Why did you bring me to the surface?”

  “To show me what makes you worth dying for.”

  Chapter Nine:

  Miranda’s words taunted me. I shoved them away. They were wrong. I retraced my memory of Diesel’s kiss, of Diesel’s touch and groan, but now the memory felt more like a dream. It belonged in a different world far away from me now. For now, I waited at my post. The young drifter remained calm as I led him up the steep incline. A thick wall provided cover, but we were still too far from the perimeter to cause any damage.

  “It’s nice out here.” The boy craned his head back, enjoying the lowering sunlight. Beneath the dirt and tangled brown hair I could see dimples squeeze his cheeks when he smiled. He turned and looked at me. “Do you think we can get a coffee later?”

  I crossed my arms and looked away. It was so quiet. My ears strained for Riki’s signal. Nature settled within the small remains of the fertile earth. There were no birds or insects here, just green weeds and tall barren trees. The leash pulled in my hands as the drifter lifted and dropped his arms.

  “Coffee Cakes make the best lattes,” he added cheerfully.

  I glanced back. He was calm. Gentle even. I indulged his conversation. “Do you go there often?”

  “Oh, yes. Banana bread with melted butter. I will be late, but I’m sure Karen won’t mind.” He winked at me, smiling. Yellow teeth lined bruised gums. His lips were cracked from dehydration. He must be so thirsty. “It’s her birthday today. I’ve got a surprise waiting.”

  The bomb sticking out from his side bugled like a tumour. The flash of red was a sharp reminder of why I was here. Why he was here.

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Do you think they’ll mind if I bring my dog?” He locked eyes with me as he spoke. It felt intrusive. Too human. I looked away.

  “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

  “Thank you. I’ve had him for nearly fifteen years.”

  “Hmm, didn’t know dogs could live that long.” Do dogs also reincarnate? I wondered. “What’s your dog’s name?”

  He cocked his head to the left, digging into his brain for an answer. When nothing formed, he curled his knuckles and frustration tightened his shoulders up to his neck. “His name? Name? Name tags. I know I put it somewhere. Shit! He’s going to fire me.”

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

  He slapped himself. “They know. I know they know. Don’t eat the pizza. It’s poisoned.”

  I quickly changed the topic. “Do you like coffee? I hear Coffee Cakes makes the best lattes.”

  “They are going to get me. No, no coffee. It’s poisoned.”

  Suddenly, a siren blasted. I leapt away from the wall and looked up. Across the buildings the lights flickered and turned black. Riki must have cut the power.

  “Okay, showtime.” I pulled the drifter toward me. Beneath our feet was an opening into the old sewers. Thankfully, they were now out of use and only rainwater dampened the pipe. I pulled the lid up and wheeled it open. Miranda had quickly explained that within the pipe’s lining the under city was a line of bombs Patricia and Callous had set up earlier. I was to walk the drifter toward the signal, setting the bombs off. I had to walk him there and let him explode.

  I pulled the drifter close to the rim and descended the stairs into the tunnel. It was dark below and water stuck to the brick walls. The leash felt heavy in my palms.

  He pulled back. “No, no please.” His boyish voice dropped into a whimper. “It’s scary.”

  “It’s okay.” I tried to sooth him. Guilt gripped my throat. “You won’t feel a thing.”

  “Scary. Scary. Dino, it’s scary.”

  I slowed. “Dino?”

  “My dog’s name. Dino, my dog. My best friend. Not Simon. Simon. Peter, no I’m Peter. My wife. My beautiful wife. I miss her so much. I miss her. I miss her so much.”

  My heart twanged. “Ah, fuck it.” I climbed back up. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t knowingly walk him to his death. I growled at myself. So freaking weak, Nadia. I lifted his top up. The bomb blinked silently as I carefully peeled the tape back from around his stomach.

  “Listen, Peter, I want you to go home to your wife okay? She’s just down the hill in the town over there. She’s waiting for you. So is Dino.” Once the bomb was off I urged him forward.

  “It’s Karen’s birthday. I have a surprise for her.” He turned away and wondered into the line of trees. His survival was impossible. It may have been kinder to let him explode than sending him out to starve to death. I couldn’t think about it now.

  I went back down the stairs. It was fine, I thought. I can still complete the objective. But as I walked further into the pipe, bomb very carefully balanced in one hand and a flash light in the other, I came to understand why the drifter was necessary.

  The tunnel had narrowed into a very small crawl space. I was forced onto my stomach where I commando crawled through the slush collected at the bottom of the channel. I knew I was close to the signal, but even if I threw the bomb ahead, there was no way I could scramble back to
safety in twenty seconds.

  “Shit!” I stalled, contemplating my situation. I was so close to reaching the red zone, but still too far away to make it back safely. In the end, I decided it wasn’t worth it. I placed the bomb down and started to wiggle back the way I came. After backpedalling about five meters, I heard a gentle tap up ahead. It sounded like something dripping. The noise got louder, faster and formed a high, pitched ring. I stopped. “No fucking way!”

  The sharp beep reached me from where the bomb started its count down. Desperately, I dropped the torch and thrust myself backwards with both arms. My knees dropped at the wider opening, and scrambling, I squeezed out and spun into a sprint. Darkness enveloped the walls as I dashed toward the spotlight from outside. But I was too slow.

  An explosion cut through the silence as a strong vibration ricocheted up the pipe and threw me forward. Loud pops went off in in a cohesion pattern. Noise slammed into my head. The pipe above me cracked. Hot air took out my knees, throwing me to the ground. As the metal splintered, the ground beneath me collapsed and the roof slammed down. Pain surged where the metal hit my crown from the sudden drop.

  It felt like a giant waking up as the ground tipped sideways into a landslide. My exit forward was blocked, forcing me to crawl down the other side of the pipe down the slope. Thankfully, being in the pipe had saved me from being crushed.

  I slid down the wet tunnel and tumbled out into a partially collapsed garage. Tanks, cars and trucks shifted in the drop and squashed beneath pieces of broken roof. I grabbed my head. The high pitch ring drilled into my eardrums. When it finally settled, I carefully sat up. A large warehouse stretched out in front. On the other side of the room I could see a small gap in between two wooden beams scaling toward the surface. I should be able to fit through that. I pushed myself into a stand when my eyes caught sight of a picture on the ground. It had tipped out of a box along with others stored in a filing cabinet. I walked over and picked up the paper. It was a picture of me and on the top corner Soulless was written with a question mark.

  “What the hell?”