Saving Eden (Original Series book 3)

by Rachel McClellan

  "What about Rafe and the others?" I call.

  "Their attack has already begun. The rest is up to us."

  We meet each other's gazes, a silent promise to succeed.

  Tank runs from the ramp and dives into the night. The other two follow after him. I take a deep breath, then sprint down the ramp lifting my arms like a bird's wings. I jump and let the night swallow me whole. It's an exhilarating moment, feeling this uncontrolled, but it can't last. I need to save Colt.

  I squint my eyes against the air rushing into my face. The lights of the autorail come into view. It's moving fast. I lower my hands to my sides and point my head down. My body follows the motion, sending me shooting through the darkness. Off to my side and just in front of me are the three others. Moonlight shines off the reflector strips on their backs.

  I shift slightly to the left so I can take the lead. At a certain point, I recognize the train is traveling faster than I am. I reach for my wrist and press a button. A small cylinder on my back releases hydrogen peroxide gas, blasting me forward just as fast. I hear the sounds of the others doing the same.

  In no time at all, I'm flying parallel to the train. As soon as I land, I know the Institute will be alerted, but I doubt further help will arrive. They will have their hands full with Rafe's men.

  I push the same button again and maneuver just above the train. I drop on top of the metal roof. My special shoes Tank gave me earlier easily adhere to the shiny surface. We're going so fast, I don't know how I would be able to stay on top otherwise.

  I glance up to the sky to search for the others, but scraping sounds have me dropping into a crouching defensive position. The guards have heard me. Somewhere close by, they are ascending the side of the train via a ladder.

  The head of one appears just in front of me. His dark eyes and three spikes protruding from the top of his head tell me he is a Rhine. He scurries on top of the train, followed by a Dresden whose silver gun is drawn.

  "If you even breathe," the Dresden says, "I'll shoot you dead."

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Tank flying just above him. Tank has his own weapon drawn. He pulls the trigger. The Dresden collapses to the roof and rolls off the top of the train.

  The Rhine withdraws a gun from his hip and shoots into the sky. I leap toward him and tackle him to the roof. Our bodies roll, nearly falling off, but I manage to jam my fingers into a small divot in the metal roof of the train. The Rhine grabs onto me. I reach back with my other hand and smack him on the top of his head, knocking him unconscious. His body slides from the train.

  Free from his grip, I scramble to my feet and hurry to the rear of the car. Tank is right behind me. I look beyond him. Raven and Jet are in the process of landing.

  Tank and I jump to the balcony at the end of the train together. I quickly shed my wing suit. Tank does the same.

  "It's going to get intense in there," Tank says. "They know we’re here."

  "I'm ready." My pulse races. Not because I'm nervous, but because I'm so close to Colt. A closed metal door in front of me is my first obstacle.

  "Stand back," I tell Tank.

  He motions me to get out of the way. "I'll go first."

  "Let the superhero go," a female voice says.

  I glance up. Jet and Raven stand above us.

  Tank rolls his eyes and moves to kick down the door, but I stop him.

  "They made me for this. Now get back."

  I kick down the door. The metal flies into the train, but before I can even take a step forward, I'm shot in the chest. My body jerks into the train's railing behind me, nearly making me fall off, but I manage to catch myself. The pain is excruciating!

  Tank stares at me wide-eyed, too stunned to move. I can feel my own large eyes, and fully expect to see blood pouring down the front of me, but after a few seconds, the pain dulls.

  I sit up and look down at my chest. There's no hole and no blood. The special suit has saved me. I glance up staring into the rear car of the train and into the surprised faces of at least a dozen Primes, most of them Dresdens based on their black and blue hair. They didn't expect me to survive.

  Growling, I sprint into the train, faster than they can blink and grab the nearest soldier. Guns start firing, but I swing his body in front of me and use it as a shield as I take out one guard after another, not thinking about whether my blows are killing them or not. Tank, Raven, and Jet file in after me.

  A tall Dresden punches me in the back. I fly forward, but swing my arms out as I go, managing to take out two more Primes in the process. I drop into a crouch, then turn around to take out the Dresden. I lunge for him, ducking just as he swings at me, then jump and kick backward at his jaw. His head spins so far that there's a cracking sound. He drops to the ground dead.

  I stare down at him, my chest heaving.

  "You snapped his neck," Jet says, a hint of fear in his voice.

  "Come on," Tank says moving toward the closed door connecting our unit to the next. He grabs a security pass off one of the guard's bodies on the floor and slides it through a small box. The door opens. Several gunshots burst from the room. Raven and Jet duck to the same side I'm on, as dozens of bullets fly through the opening.

  "Now what?" Jet yells over the deafening sound. He holds his own gun tightly.

  I search the room until my eyes settle on the metal door I had kicked down earlier. I drop to all fours and scurry up and over bodies until I reach it. It's heavy, but my new body holds it as if it weighs nothing more than a bag of apples.

  "Get behind me," I order and charge into the opening. Bullets bounce off the metal.

  Tank, Raven and Jet fire their weapons around the side of the door as I plow into several Primes who push back into the metal. It quickly becomes a game of who can push harder: them or me. If I don't end this, one of my friends will be shot.

  With as much strength as I can muster, I swing the door so fast and hard I kill at least six men. Blood splatters across the wall of the train, staining it red. I push the sight to the back of my mind and continue to fight, focusing on the ten others who are temporarily stunned by the amount of blood not only on the walls but on them too. It's in that small moment that I finally realize what Rafe had meant by calling me a weapon. I am deadly, created to kill people.

  I grab two people and crush their skulls together, then spin away to the next soldier. They are no longer humans to me, but just things standing between me and Colt. I keep fighting, keep killing, punching and kicking at anything that moves. My vision blurs through sudden tears.

  I shove my elbow into someone's throat, pressing them against the wall. I'm about to smash my hand into his face, but a voice stops me.

  "Sage! Please!"

  I blink, seeing clearly whom I'm about to kill through the tears in my eyes.

  Jet is in my grasp. I stumble back, breathing fast and hard. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see."

  "How can you through all of the blood?" Raven asks, but there's no sarcasm in her voice, only shock.

  "Stay focused," Tank orders and moves on to the next door as if he can't see what's all around him. "Colt has got to be close."

  The next unit is like the two before it, filled with Primes with weapons all trying to kill us, but they don't know that it's me who's doing the killing. I don't think. I just react. Raven and Jet stay back away from me. Tank helps when he can.

  There's screaming all around me, and more cries in the distance. I can hear people in the front of the train scrambling to find a way off. I can't let them leave. They might take Colt.

  I move faster, breaking down two more doors. I use the sleeve of my arm to wipe the blood and sweat from my face. While I tackle a large Dresden, something sharp cuts into the back of my shoulder. I turn around just as Tank shoots a woman in the head. A knife falls from her hand.

  "Are you okay?" he asks me.

  "Fine." I keep moving, stepping over several bodies.

  "Shouldn't we have seen Colt by now?" Jet asks. He's rubbin
g at his throat where I had pinned him. It's already turning purple. Guilt burns my stomach.

  "They must have him at the front of the train." Tank walks to the door. This one is different from the others. There's a narrow window to the section on the other side.

  "They’re slowing the train down," I say, detecting the slightest of movements. "What do you see, Tank?"

  He shakes his head. "It's empty, but there's something different about it. Come see for yourself."

  Tank steps aside, and I take his place. The long compartment is empty, but there's an eerie blue haze filling the air.

  "What's after this unit?" Tank asks me.

  "Sleeping quarters," I answer. "And after that is the dining hall and lounge area."

  "I think we've fought all their soldiers," Jet points out.

  Tank peeks into the window just over my shoulder. "There's probably a few more left to protect the Institute's elite."

  I place my hand on the door handle expecting it to be locked, but it isn't. The door opens wide. A scent, like rubbing alcohol, accosts my nose.

  "What is that?" I ask.

  Raven steps close to me. "Smells like a crematorium."

  "I don't like this," Jet whispers.

  "Move," Tank says. He picks up a body from off the ground. I step out of the way just as he tosses it into the glowing room. The body bursts into flames.

  I jump, as do the others.

  "How are we supposed to get past this?" Jet asks.

  "See that over there?" Tank points to the other end. There's a small gray box hanging on the wall. "It can be turned off inside there. They must've activated it, then retreated to the other units. Soon this train will stop and be evacuated. I bet they have a hovercraft on their way now. We better do something and quick or we're going to lose Colt."

  I search the room, thinking hard. There has to be a way past it. I glance down. My suit.

  "Rafe said this suit is fireproof," I say out loud, more to myself than the others. I press a small button on my shoulder. A thin material, see-through on the face, comes up and over my head. There's only one place that isn't covered—the small hole where I was stabbed. I still feel pain from the wound, but it will have to do.

  I reach my covered arm into the room. My suit grows hot but nothing more happens. "It's hot, but I think I'll be okay."

  "Move fast," Tank orders and hands me the keycard.

  I nod and dart through the room. The train is really starting to slow now. I lift the lid on the box, trying to ignore how hot my suit is getting, especially where my suit is torn. I swipe the card but nothing happens.

  A sudden searing pain scalds my skin, and I cry out. I drop to my knees, my body feeling like it's on fire. The suit is getting too hot.

  "Sage!" Tank calls, looking like he’s about to step inside the room.

  I hold up my hand in a stopping motion and force myself to my feet. Grinding my jaw together, I push past the intense pain of burning flesh and pull my fist back. In one quick motion, I smash my hand into the keypad. It sparks and sputters until the blue hue is gone. I drop to the ground.

  Tank reaches me first. He pushes the button on my shoulder, releasing the hood around my face. I try not to notice the plume of smoke as it escapes from my suit.

  "Smells like burning flesh," Raven whispers.

  "Can you move?" Tank asks me.

  "I think so." It hurts to part my lips.

  He helps me to stand. The movement sends searing pain up and down my body.

  "You'll be okay," he says, "but it's going to hurt for awhile, especially when you take off that suit."

  I glance down at my gloved hand and wiggle my fingers. My skin stings, especially when I move my joints.

  "The next compartment looks empty," Jet says. He's staring through another window on the door.

  "They've probably all pushed to the front of the train," Raven says. "Colt better be there."

  "Open the door," Tank tells Jet.

  Jet pops it open and slowly moves into the sleeping quarters, his weapon drawn. He makes it about half way then turns back around. "It's clear."

  Right as he says it, a smaller soldier steps out from within an open-doored cabin and fires his weapon. I lunge to knock Jet out of the way, but I'm too late. The bullet tears through the right side of his chest. Tank fires back killing the soldier instantly.

  I catch Jet as he falls to the floor, ignoring the sting on my skin.

  "No!" Raven yells and rushes to his side. She rips open the front of his shirt and presses her palm into the wound.

  Jet blinks and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

  I shake him. "Stay awake!"

  He blinks again, his eyes opening. He coughs, then says, "This hurts."

  "Too bad he wasn't special enough to get a fancy suit," Raven mutters.

  I inhale a hitched breath, knowing she's right.

  Tank straightens and takes a few steps away. He presses on his wristpad. "Zip, Jenna, we’ll need an extraction in ten minutes. The train is stopping. An Institute carrier won't be far behind." He pauses. "And we may need an airlift for Jet. He was shot."

  "What about Colt?" Jenna's voice asks.

  "We're still looking." Tank turns around to face us. "Raven, stay with Jet."

  He walks to the next door. This one has no window. I slowly join him, grinding my teeth together as I move. Tank grabs the door handle and pulls, but it won't budge. He tries again, straining hard. He steps back and kicks at it, but the metal barely dents. "This is some door."

  "Let me try," I say. I pull up on the elongated handle, but nothing happens. I close my eyes and concentrate hard. I think of Jet who's hurt and needs medical help as soon as possible. I think of Colt who has probably suffered tremendous torture on Ebony's orders. Anger courses through me, filling me with newfound adrenaline. I jerk the door open, breaking its internal lock and step to the side.

  Instead of bullets, there's a blast of cold energy coming through the door. The soldiers within are using wind blasters to try and stun us. Better than bullets. I glance at Tank. He's already doing what needs to be done. He removes a small, electronic device from his pocket and pushes two buttons on each side. A whining sound comes from within the compartment as the blasters are disabled. It's followed by frightened cries and a chorus of voices.

  I risk a quick glance inside. It's a long and large space filled with plush chairs and shiny black tables. Pressed against the back wall are at least two dozen Primes in fancy clothes and beautiful hair. There are even two waitresses among them, their spilled trays of food lying scattered on the floor. A couple of soldiers stand in front of them as if to protect them, but they looked just as frightened. By the amber color of their eyes, these two men are just regular Prime soldiers. They were probably left here as a last resort. No one probably believed we would make it this far.

  One of the women in the corner bursts into tears. I must make a fearsome sight having just broken through what they thought was an impermeable door, covered in blood.

  Tank steps into the room, a weapon in each hand trained on the group. I risk a glance away from them to search the rest of the space.

  My heart stops, and I press a hand to my mouth when I see him. Colt is here, hanging on the wall like some kind of abstract painting. His body has been tightly wrapped in barbed wire from head to foot, and his bat-like wings have been crumbled and twisted around him. They are torn and full of holes from the barbs. I can barely see his face. It's covered in rivers of blood that run down his body, leaving a bloody puddle a foot below his bare feet.

  A wave of nausea washes over me as I stumble to free him from his barbed cage.

  "Colt?" I reach for the wire, but as soon as I touch it, I'm shocked with electricity with such force I'm thrown several feet. Colt's body jerks, but he remains motionless, his eyes closed.

  "Tank!" I turn around. He is staring at Colt, his face pale. "What do we do?"

  He blows air through his nose several times as if a rag
ing bull. He stomps to the nearest guard. "Turn it off!"

  "I can't," he stutters.

  "Do it!"

  "Only Ebony knows the code," the guard says. "I swear it!"

  Tank lifts his large-fisted hand and thumps hard on the top of the man's skull knocking him unconscious.

  "You will pay for this!" a tall Prime woman with high pink hair yells at him.

  Tank slowly turns toward her, silencing her with just a look. "If anyone says another word, I will kill you all. Understand?"

  I come to my feet, my legs still shaking from the shock, and return to Colt to search for something external we can do to shut off the electricity. "I don't see anything!"

  Tank joins me, no longer worried about the others trying to stop us. "There's got to be something!"

  He looks up and down Colt, and when he gently touches the wires he too is shocked to his knees. He gasps for breath. "We don't have much time."

  The train comes to a stop.

  "Maybe we can wrap him in something." I rush to the nearest couch and rip off the cushions. With one in each hand I press them on each side of Colt and try to lift him, but electricity still flows through and shocks me just as hard. I fall back on my bum, grunting in frustration.

  "What's taking so long?" Raven asks from the doorway, but she squeaks when she sees Colt.

  "We can't touch him," Tank says in a gravely voice. "The wires are electric."

  I stand in front of Colt, my eyes burning. He's right in front of me, and yet I can't save him.

  Tank's wristpad sounds with Jenna's voice. "We're here. Start loading up!"

  We all look at each other, unmoving.

  "I'm not leaving him!" I insist.

  "Maybe we can tie something to him," Tank says as if thinking out loud. "We can drag him out the back by a rope and airlift him."

  "Those barbs will kill him!" Raven says. "You can't move him!"

  I stare at Colt. I have to do something. We're so close!

  I reach for the barbed wire around his chest, my fingers hovering just over them. Every time I get shocked so does Colt, but if we don't free him now, he'll die for sure in the Institute's hands. It's just a matter of time.