Renegades (The Praegressus Project Book 2)

by Aaron Hodges

  Silence met his words. Liz stared up at the sky, unable to find an answer, to comprehend the guilt and sorrow warring within the boy beside her. Her own fight had been simple – it had been his life, or her own. Richard was right – Joshua had been a stranger to her. It should not have made her decision easier, but it did.

  Finally, she spoke again, “It was the same for Ashley and Sam. You must know that? So why do you hate them?”

  “Hate them?” Richard shook his head. “I don’t hate them. They did what they had to too survive, just like the rest of us. No, I can’t face them, because every time I look at their faces, I see Joshua again, standing there, sacrificing his life for mine. I can’t face them, because all they do is remind me what happened, of what I would have done to save my own life.”

  “But when Ashley fell…”

  A shiver went through him then, and his voice broke as he spoke. “We were dead to each other a long time ago, Liz,” he breathed. “But, in truth, I didn’t have the courage to say goodbye.”

  On an impulse, Liz reached out and wrapped her arms around Richard. The boy crumpled at her touch, his strength failing him. She pulled him tight against her, feeling his sorrow, his silent sobs as he buried his head in her shoulder.

  When Richard finally pulled away, he could not meet her eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered. Slowly, he recovered his composure. “I guess, in the end, it won’t matter. We’ll all end up like her, one way or another.”

  Liz flinched at the bitterness in Richard’s voice. Icy fingers wrapped around her throat, like the ghost of the collar she had once worn. Ashley’s face from the dream appeared in her mind, the accusing eyes, the pallid grey fingers reaching for her. Pushing down against the rock, she stood.

  “No,” Liz breathed, closing her eyes, drawing in a mouthful of fresh air. She concentrated on her wings, felt them lift and stretch, until the black feathers tingled in the soft breeze. Looking down at Richard, she shook her head. “They won’t catch me. They won’t take me back. I’d rather die.”

  Richard only gave a sad smile. “Brave words, but how long will they last? How long will any of us last against them? They’re after us now – Halt, the guards, the government, everyone. They’ll come for us with everything they have. We’ve kept ahead of them in the mountains, but out there,” he waved a hand down the valley, “in the lowlands, in the cities, that’s their territory.”

  “The cities might belong to them, but the countryside is mine,” Liz growled. Clenching her fists, she looked out over the mountains. “Out here, the government is not the power it pretends to be in the cities. The Western Allied States are huge – they cannot be everywhere, see everything. The people in the countryside tolerate them, because they have little choice, but there is no love lost for them. That’s how I avoided them for so long.”

  Richard shrugged. “We’re a little more conspicuous now. You know, with the wings and all.”

  Liz laughed softly. “There is that,” she smiled, “But we can hide our wings. We’ll find jackets or something. We can avoid the hunters, at least until the chase dies down.”

  “They’ll follow us to the ends of the earth, Liz. We’re a dark secret they want buried, especially in an election year. Even our wondrous Electors are bound to ask a few questions of the President if the truth comes out,” Richard paused, “and besides, a life on the run doesn’t sound like much of a life to me.”

  Liz shivered, remembering the long days and nights alone in the wild, the uncertainty, the fear of being caught. She had spent two years living that life, not knowing when the day would finally come that they found her. “No…” she whispered, “it’s not. We need a way to fight back.”

  It was Richard’s turn to chuckle. “Sure, let me know how that works out.”

  Pursuing her lips, Liz shook her head. “We’ll find a way,” she recalled Ashley’s words from so long ago. “They’re only human, Richard. They’ll make a mistake.”

  Richard’s emerald eyes found her in the darkness. “After all they’ve done, do you truly believe that?” he shook his head. “The things they’ve done to us, they’re not possible Liz.”

  Shivering, Liz look away, the wings suddenly heavy on her back. Everything they had become, every extra ounce of strength, of agility they now possessed, was thanks to Halt and Angela and the other doctors. All seemed far beyond the realms of possibility. Liz’s stomach clenched as she realised she had no response.

  Silence fell then, as each drifted into the chaos of their own thoughts. Moving back to the boulder, Liz took her seat again. Together, they sat looking out over the mountains, watching as the glow of the new day slowly appeared over the distant peaks.

  As the warm glow found her on the rock, Liz closed her eyes. Whatever had come before, today was a new day, and she was determined to make the most of it.

  After all, who knew how many they had left?

  4

  Chris sucked in a breath, revelling in the icy air filling his lungs. The wind howled around him, tugging at his lengthening hair and rustling in his feathers. His tawny brown wings stretched out on either side of him, their concave surface catching in the wind, sending him higher and higher, until the treetops were little more than specks far below.

  A mile above the rugged ground, Chris watched the giant redwoods drift by. They stood in groves amongst their smaller relatives, towering above the rest of the forest, striving for glory. But their height meant nothing to Chris and Liz and the others. Their only rivals were the snow-capped mountains behind them. A cloudless sky extended around them, seeming to stretch away to infinity.

  For a while, Chris allowed the others their wonder, savouring in the freedom of the open air. Just a short week ago, heights had been a terror to him, the thought of plummeting helplessly to his death his greatest nightmare. But now he was the master of the sky, his fears caged, vanquished by the power of his wings.

  Sadly, they could not remain in the open for long. Outside the jagged peaks, they were exposed in the empty sky. Though there had been little sign of pursuit in the mountains, they had heard the helicopters in the distance, and there was no doubt the government would be coming for them.

  Folding his wings, Chris pulled into a dive and shot towards the distant trees. The air whistled around his ears and tore at his clothing as he gave a wild scream. Slowly, he eased his wings out a few inches, lifting his body slowly from the dive. As the trees closed, he allowed them to unfurl to their full length, and levelled out just above the canopy.

  The others soon joined him, and together they drifted over the tree tops. Glancing around, Chris noticed even Jasmine wore a wild grin, her eyes alive with exhilaration. Chris allowed himself to glide lower, scanning the dense branches, searching for a way through. His chest burned and pain threaded its way down his back. He desperately needed to rest, and he doubted the others were any better off.

  Spotting a gap, he headed towards it, struggling to retract his wings enough to fit through without going into freefall. Even so, he felt his descent accelerating as he aimed for the opening. Lurching in the air, a branch caught his arm, throwing him off balance. Then he was through, dropping into the open space beneath the canopy.

  Looking down, he found himself still thirty feet above the ground and quickly spread his wings. His descent slowed, but he was still falling too quickly when he struck the ground. The shock of the impact took his feet out from underneath him, and he quickly rolled forward to break his fall.

  Coming to a rest on his back, he picked himself up and brushed off the pine needles, hoping the others had not seen his uninspiring landing. Turning, his cheeks warmed as he found them standing nearby, watching him with amused grins on their faces.

  Shaking his head, Chris flashed his best scowl. “And that, children, is how not to land.”

  Liz laughed. “Who are you calling children. Pretty sure half of us are older than you.”

  Chris shrugged and rolled his shoulders, trying to remove the knot that h
ad collected in the muscles beneath his shoulder blades. His wings seemed to connect in some way to just about every muscle in his back, as well as those in his chest and abdomen. The collective strength of those muscles, along with their increased muscle density, seemed to provide the power they needed for flight.

  Unfortunately, it also meant every inch of his torso burned at the end of each day’s flight.

  “How do we get back up?” Jasmine was looking at the canopy.

  Where they stood on the forest floor, the hole in the trees was invisible. An army of tree trunks surrounded them, their red trunks straight and smooth as they stretched towards the hidden sky. Brown pine needles smothered the ground, and there was no trace of any undergrowth. Distantly, Chris recalled from biology class that chemicals from many redwood species leeched nutrients from the topsoil, preventing other plant species from colonising beneath them.

  “I think we should go on foot for a while,” he said at last. Their progress would be slow, but at least they would be hidden from prying eyes. “I don’t think I can fly much farther without food, and it feels too exposed up there, out of the mountains.”

  “Well, what are we waiting for then?” Richard made a face, then turned and walked off through the trees. Jasmine followed him, the young girl silently shadowing her, leaving Liz and Chris staring after them.

  Rolling his eyes, Chris flashed Liz a half-hearted grin and started after them. In truth, he was glad to relinquish the lead. He still wasn’t quite sure how he’d ended up with the unofficial title of leader, but the weight of responsibility had quickly grown exhausting, and he could use the rest.

  His heart warmed as Liz fell in beside him and reached out to take his hand. She flashed him a smile, her blue eyes shining with some hidden emotion. He found himself smiling back, the gesture genuine now.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  Jasmine, Richard and the girl were pulling ahead of them, picking their way easily over the tree roots. But with Liz’s warm fingers clutched around his hand, Chris felt no rush to catch up with them. Liz’s sudden show of affection had stirred him from his melancholy, and he found himself thinking again of the night in the cell, when he had first fallen asleep in her bed.

  Beside him, Liz shrugged. “I’m okay,” she bit her lip and looked away, “I’m sorry I’ve been… distant.”

  Chris squeezed her hand and pulled her towards him. Sliding his arm around her waist, he held her close. He kissed the top of her head, breathing in the rich scent of her hair. She smiled up at him then, her head nestling in beneath his chin. They walked like that for a while, until it became too awkward to manage while avoiding the twisted roots and spider webs criss-crossing the undergrowth.

  “How are your wings feeling?” he asked eventually.

  At their mention, Liz’s black wings lifted slightly, shivering in the air before settling back against her clothing. “Not too bad,” Liz turned and winked at him. “I’m a bit lighter than you. Less work.”

  Laughing, Chris shook his head and bent himself to the task of keeping up with Richard. He had to admit, the boy set a cracking pace, and he was soon puffing hard in the morning air. The scent of the pine trees brought back memories of Christmas, and he found his thoughts drifting to more pleasant memories, to cold mornings beneath Christmas trees, opening presents with his mother and father.

  Each lost in their own thoughts, they steadily made their way down through the foothills. Signs of life were everywhere now. Deep scars in nearby tree trunks showed where bears had marked their territory, some more than twice Chris’s height. Dry pine needles crunched beneath their feet, warning the forest creatures of their approach. But Chris still caught flickers of movement from the corners of his eyes, as squirrels and mice ducked out of sight. The soft chirp of cicadas marked the end of winter, and silently Chris wondered whether the world had changed during the long months of their imprisonment.

  Towards sunset, the air beneath the trees filled with the buzz of insects. The first chirps of the evening chorus soon followed, as birds flitted through the air, darting between the tree trunks as they chased their prey.

  Without the sun or mountains for guidance, it was difficult to judge their progress. But Chris guessed from the burning in his thighs they’d walked several miles. It was a frustrating pace after their rapid flight through the mountains, but there was little they could do about it.

  At least Liz had helped fill their empty stomachs. As they walked she had collected berries and handfuls of nuts from various trees and plants. At one point, she had even gathered a few fat white grubs from beneath the bark of a tree. Hungry as he was, Chris had wolfed it all down without question, though he had hesitated maybe half a second longer with the grubs.

  As darkness fell beneath the trees, they finally stopped for the night, settling down in a shallow indentation in the earth. It offered little in the way of protection, but it was the best they could find beneath the trees. As they had done every night since their escape, they set a watch, and one by one drifted off to sleep.

  A few hours later, Chris woke to a hand on his shoulder. Blinking in the darkness, he found Liz sitting beside him, a sly smile on her face. Before he could open his mouth, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. Still groggy from sleep, he struggled to think as her fingers twisted in his hair. Then he was kissing her back, hard and fast, his tongue darting out to taste her.

  When she finally pulled away, Chris sucked in a breath. He reached out and pulled her close, his heart beating hard in his chest.

  “Who’s on watch?” he breathed.

  “Richard,” she smiled in the darkness. “He’s over there. Come on,” she stood, tugging at his hand.

  Chris obeyed, staggering to his feet as she pulled him in the opposite direction of where Richard sat. With the thick canopy overhead, the darkness beneath the trees was complete, and even their heightened senses struggled to find a path. Still half-asleep, Chris stumbled along after Liz, barely able to keep up. But each time he slowed, she would look back, her eyes flashing in darkness, her eager smile drawing him onwards.

  They managed maybe a dozen yards before Chris tripped over a tree root. Toppling forwards, he dragged Liz with him, and together they tumbled to the ground. They rolled across the soft bed of pine needles, their wings pulled tight against their backs, their laughter echoing beneath the canopy.

  When they finally came to a stop, Chris found himself lying atop Liz. He stared down at her, wondering at the brightness of her sapphire eyes in the darkness, and found himself smiling again.

  “Hey there,” he smiled at her.

  Giggling, Liz tried to wriggle free, but he refused to move, pinning her to the ground. Instead, he leaned down and kissed her. She stilled as their lips met, her hands no longer pushing him away, but wrapping around him, pulling him closer.

  She let out a long breath when they parted, and laughed again. Then her wings beat suddenly against the ground, and she rolled, sending Chris toppling sideways. Before he could recover she leapt on his chest and straddled him.

  “Gotcha,” she laughed.

  Chris grinned. Reaching up, he gently brushed a pine needle from her jet-black hair. Her eyes closed at his touch and her breath quickened. Silently, she reached up and pressed his hand to her cheek.

  “Chris,” she breathed.

  Then she was leaning down, and her lips were pressing against his, and their hands were fumbling at their clothes. A white-hot fire swept through Chris, stealing away thought and reason, leaving only the burning of desire. Blood pounded in his ears as the buttons of his shirt gave way, and he felt the heat of Liz’s hands on his chest. Need rose within him, and he fumbled at Liz’s shirt. With an awkward, desperate wriggle, she pulled it over her head, leaving it tangled in the black feathers of her wings.

  Chris sucked in a breath, his eyes devouring every inch of her naked body. Her crystal blue eyes shone in the darkness as she pulled him to her. Teeth nipped lightly at Chris’s
neck, and he moaned, wrapping his arms tight around her, feeling her naked flesh pressed against him.

  Together they fell back to soft pine needles, bodies and wings entwined, the scent of the forest all around.

  5

  Darkness hung over the forest like a blanket, turning the pale trees to ghostly spectres. The dense canopy stretched overhead, the thick leaves and branches hiding even the brilliance of the half-moon. Not a breath of wind stirred the air, and only the far-off hoot of an owl broke the heavy silence.

  Through the darkness came the soldiers – one, two, a dozen. They moved with measured steps, each movement taken with painstaking care, every man striving for silence. One wrong step, one twig broken beneath a careless boot, and they would be exposed. But these men were professionals, and they did not make mistakes.

  Captain Scott’s eyes scanned the shadows as he moved, seeking out the first sign of their quarry. Through the green glow of his night-vision goggles, he watched his men fan out around him, rifles held at the ready. In the darkness they were indistinguishable from one another, but all were his brothers. Each was a veteran of a dozen campaigns, with tours in foreign states as far afield as Texas and Spain.

  Earlier in the day they had watched from their vantage point as their quarry emerged from the mountains and entered the dense woods below. With long range infrared sensors, they had tracked the groups slow progress through the trees, unwilling to act until the party stopped for the night and slept.

  It had been a long wait, but ultimately their patience had been rewarded. Maps of the Californian mountains suggested this was one of three valleys the group could travel through. Teams were stationed at the exits to each valley, but Scott had never doubted theirs would be the one. And now it seemed his faith had been rewarded.