by G. P. Ching
“Don’t be stupid,” Dr. Konrad says.
He sounds defensive. Who is he talking to? Korwin? I’m not strong enough to move my head or open my eyes. I’m not even strong enough to take another breath. Fingers of darkness are pawing me under, luring me back to the depths of unconsciousness with the promise of something more permanent.
The mask is torn from my face and a hand slaps my cheek.
“Breathe, Lydia!” David’s voice. When did he get here? Stabs of pain pepper my arms and legs. He’s ripping the wires out. I take a shallow breath. Everything hurts.
“Even you must know these two are too far gone,” Konrad says. “You’ll never get away with this. Every officer within a thirty-mile radius will be here in seconds.”
“You mean because of the alarm?” Laura’s voice. It’s as soft as the coo of a dove, but somehow deadly. “We disabled it, Emile. No one is coming.”
Feet scuffle. Zap. The smell of ozone and blood. The weighted thud of a body hitting tile. The clank of raining metal objects.
“Save it, Laura,” David says. “We need you to be sparky if we’re to have any chance of making it out of here.”
“The old-fashioned way then. This guy deserves to die,” Laura says.
Laura and David came for me. I try to fight. Try to stay alive to make myself worth their risk. But it’s hard. I can feel myself slipping away.
Sirens in the distance. “No time. We’ve got to hustle.”
“Bullshit. He’s seen me.” There’s a rustle and squeak. “There. He can breathe in the oxygen he seems so fond of.”
“Laura… now!”
A zip and rustle, like an opening duffle bag near my head. “Be careful not to touch her skin to skin. Her body could drain you trying to heal itself.”
“Right. Help me.”
I groan as I’m lifted from the table. When did they remove my restraints? The most I can do is flutter my lids. Every breath is a struggle.
“She’s dying, David. We’ve got to…” I lose what she’s saying in a fog of scrambled words. I’m not exactly asleep. I can still hear David and Laura speak and feel my body bounce in one of their arms, but I can’t make sense of anything. It’s like I have one leg in this world and one in a dark place where no one feels anything at all.
I revive again when I am thrown forcefully into the back of a Green Republic Humvee.
Have I been captured again? My body rolls against a long and hard object before coming to a stop. A duffle bag?
“They’re still coming, David!” Laura yells. “Go, go!”
The Humvee jerks and then turns abruptly, throwing me against the far wall and rolling the duffle bag into me. I open my eyes. Korwin’s face pokes from the black bag, eyes closed and skin almost gray. It’s not a duffle bag. It’s a body bag. I glance down. I’m in one too. Do they think we’re dead? Fighting the urge to sleep, I try to reach for him. One of my arms does not respond at all. The other is pinned under me. I can move it but the hand throbs when I do, clearly broken. As the engine rumbles and bumps beneath me, I work the dead fingers up and out the neck of the bag. I flop the broken hand onto his cheek and close my eyes again.
Pop. Pop-pop.
“They’ve opened fire!” Laura yells. The Humvee swerves, and Korwin rolls away from me, breaking contact.
“We can’t lead them back to the reactor,” David says. “Where should I go?”
“Deadzone. Maybe we can lose them on the backstreets.”
The vehicle swerves. Korwin slams into me, and I position my broken hand again. I can’t feel Korwin’s pulse. I reposition my wrist where his artery should be. Nothing. A hot stroke of anger ignites within me. Korwin cannot die. I was supposed to die. I absolutely refuse to continue in this cruel, hateful world without him. I can’t. My anger wakes the tickle at the back of my skull and I immediately send it into Korwin. His body jolts inside the bag.
I rest my head on the floor and let what little is left in me out, into his body. I am a raw sore. I am nothing but pain. The wounds on the arm between us start to ooze and then bleed. Still no pulse. I refuse to believe he’s dead. I take one last breath and give him everything I have left, until darkness claims me again.
Bam! A door slams. We’ve stopped and I’m still breathing.
“David, to your left!”
Pop. Pop-pop. Pop. Plunk. A bullet pokes a hole in the side of the jeep and pings off the opposite wall before falling at our feet. I look over at Korwin. There’s been no change. I press my cheek against his and feel a featherlight breath brush my face.
“Korwin?” my voice cracks. His skin is too cold, but this thing inside of me, the spark, seems to know he’s alive. I feel it start to flip, feeding him, then me. My arm stops bleeding.
“Laura, NO!” An explosion rocks the vehicle onto two wheels and I snake my arm around Korwin’s shoulders to keep us together. My broken hand throbs from the effort. I manage to squirm out of my body bag, then unzip his and lay across the top of him, my head tucked into the side of his neck. The engine that is us keeps burning. I fall asleep again.
I wake to Korwin’s raspy breath in my ear. He’s whimpering in pain. I shift so that my weight is not on his injured hip. Outside the windows of the Humvee, I see lightning. David and Laura have resorted to using their electrokinesis. They won’t last long.
Korwin and I are wearing white hospital tunics. I shift mine then his so we are skin to skin. The exchange goes faster. I am able to move my dead arm, and I dig out Korwin’s hand and thread my fingers into his. Palm to palm, heart to heart. The sores on my arms have crusted over.
“Lydia?” he says, and his eyes flip open.
“I’m here.”
“I saw my parents.” He looks away from me and his eyes start to tear.
“You were gone.” I look from eye to eye and I know it’s true. He was dead. “I brought you back.”
“What’s happening?”
“David and Laura are fighting to save us, but it doesn’t look good. We need to help.”
“I can hardly move.”
“Kiss me.” I lower my lips onto his and the familiar rush hits me hard. It isn’t about lust or anything physical. In that moment, it’s about connection. Fire pours in and out of me. We charge each other—skin to skin, heart to heart, lip to lip, palm to palm. The smell of burning plastic drives us apart. We’ve singed the interior.
“Better?” I ask. Laura’s screams confirm we’re out of time.
He nods. “Still not a hundred percent, but I think I can move.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t let go of my hand.”
We rise to a squat and straighten our tunics. Korwin unlocks the back gate but holds it closed. “Can you spark? They’re not going to try to take us alive.”
I lift my broken hand. I can move the thumb again but not the fingers. With a wince, I snap it out at the elbow, and the blue glow burns bright around us. As long as I hold his hand, I’m gaining strength, healing.
“I’m ready,” I say. But I’m not ready. I feel like I’ve been run over by stampeding horses.
Korwin nods. He opens the gate and we leap into the war.
30
Hand in hand, we walk straight toward the advancing Greens. There’s no place else to go. I see now why David had to stop and fight. The road beyond the jeep is gone, as if construction ended with the loss of power. There’s an orange-and-white roadblock and then nothing, the asphalt gives way to a deadly drop.
The Greens shower us with bullets, the ammunition melting in our mounting heat. We find Laura and David huddled in a shallow doorway, the telltale signs of electroscurvy spotting their faces. Their blue clothing is stained purple with blood, and working together, they can barely maintain an energy shield strong enough to repel the open fire. Together, Korwin and I cast our energy out, wrapping them in our protection.
“Get in the jeep!” I yell. They don’t hesitate. Leaning on each other, they limp to the vehicle behind us.
S
crambler probes fly as we approach, but the officers can’t get close enough for them to work due to the heat we’re putting off. I turn up the power. My link with Korwin doesn’t fail me; the spark takes on a life of its own.
We’ve done this before—created this engine that is our connection. Like before, the fire within takes over. It fills me and protects me. I do not analyze it or judge its source. I simply trust my instincts.
“They won’t leave on their own,” Korwin says. His voice takes on a resonant embouchure, hollow and tinny.
I roll my shoulder and throw my power forward, blasting one soldier and then another. The men I hit drop, twitching. The others scatter as we step over the fallen and into the street. The road is packed with military vehicles. “Your turn.”
Korwin sends a blast of lightning into the nearest one. It pops into the air and then crumples into the pavement. I have the faintest concern for the driver as he goes tumbling, but the longer we stay like this, the further I feel from human. My remorse is limited. As jeeps fly and people scream, I experience it as a distant observer, even when it is my hand that causes the destruction.
David and Laura follow behind us in the Humvee as we break from the alley into the street. “Right or left?” I yell.
Korwin scans the block. “Nearest entrance to the grid is this way.” He points left.
“They’re coming from both sides!” I direct my shield of energy to protect the Humvee.
“We can’t separate. I’m too weak to do this without you.”
“Can we get hot enough to cover them?”
“We’ll have to try.”
I open up the channel and feel the current race between us. The circle of blue expands. We’re able to contain Laura and David, but the globe of energy only reaches halfway across the backseat. David nods and pulls up closer to us. We advance.
Step by step we battle our way forward, lightning bolts branching to the buildings around us, then breaking apart. We make it through to the back of the formation, partly through brute force but mostly because the men start to cut and run.
“Lydia, behind us,” David yells through the windshield. I glance over my shoulder. Heavy artillery pulls in behind the men.
“There’s a tank,” I say. “We’re not strong enough.”
“We need to get mobile. Come on.”
Tugging my hand, he leads me to the side of the jeep. We prop ourselves on the running board, our hands coupled between us. Korwin slaps the roof, and I hold on with my free hand.
David takes off, just as a blast of fire erupts from the tank’s cannon. The artillery misses us but the impact rocks the Humvee. I lose my grip and windmill my arm to keep from flying off the side of the jeep. Korwin grips my hand tighter and yanks me back up before I lose my footing.
The corner is our savior. After we turn, the tank isn’t fast enough to follow within range. Korwin bangs on the back window. The glass lowers and he pushes my head in. I grunt as I force my body through the opening, then help Korwin inside.
“Get to the grid,” Korwin yells to David.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” David growls. “Everyone pray we make it.”
“We will. The tanks are too slow,” I say hopefully.
“I wish that was our only issue. A bullet punctured the gas tank. We’re running on fumes.”
I chew my lip as David takes the next corner. I can see the ramp through the windshield and Laura starts keying coordinates into the dashboard. “We can’t go there!” David shouts, looking at the numbers. “We won’t have enough fuel to make it home.”
“What would you suggest?” she hisses.
The engine sputters and David’s foot hits the floor. The jeep slows in response. We can see the blinking lights of the grid just a few yards ahead but the jeep won’t move. I glance behind us. “They’re coming!”
Laura and David look at us in exasperation. The Humvee lurches forward, then stops, then lurches again. “We’re on empty,” David says, “but the grid is pulling us. We must be just beyond the range of the electromagnetic field.”
“It’s magnetic?” I ask.
“Sure. That’s how the grid works. It connects with the bottom of the vehicle. Reduces friction and forces the vehicle forward.”
I look at Korwin and he understands without me saying a word. He grabs my hand and forces it onto the floor of the jeep. We produce an electromagnetic field. I concentrate on the grid, my power asking the atoms to connect with us. I throw the spark, then pull it in. Korwin does the same. We lurch forward but barely.
“Oh hell,” David says. “The tanks!”
A tug rips through me as Korwin sends our power out again. This time it works. The jeep gives one mighty lurch and catches on the grid. “Come on. Come on. Come on,” David says as we slowly build speed.
A shell explodes behind us, knocking us forward. It’s meant to hurt but it helps. We snap to the grid, accelerating to maximum speed. The Greens turn into a blur in our wake.
David swivels in his chair. “Neat trick.”
“I wasn’t sure if it would work. We’ve never used our power like that,” Korwin says.
“I’m not talking about the grid, although you did just save our hides. No, I’m talking about the healing each other part. When did you learn to do that?”
Korwin drops my hand for the first time that night and pushes himself off the floor and into one of the seats against the wall of the vehicle. I do the same.
“My dad figured it out. When we’re together, we can charge each other. We can pull the energy from the atoms around us to fuel our bodies in a way we can’t separately.”
Laura shakes her head. “Better together.”
“You could say that.”
“How did you find us?” I ask David.
“Tracker in the helmet. We recovered the bike days ago but didn’t know where you were until the Greens showed up. You want to find Lydia Troyer, just wait for the explosions.” He grins.
“The Greens are probably tracking us by now,” Korwin says. “Shouldn’t we do something to lead them off the trail?”
“We have a blocking device, specifically designed to keep them from tracking us. But even if we didn’t, we don’t have a choice. Jonas is meeting us at the off-ramp with a van. This baby isn’t going to make it any farther than it rolls.”
I feel all the blood rush from my head. “The Greens know where we’re going,” I blurt. “I told Konrad we were hiding in the Outlands.”
“You were being tortured,” Korwin pipes in. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Not my fault? I was the one too weak to stand the pain. You were tortured too, but I was the one who cracked.”
“I don’t care if he extracted it from your brain,” David says. “It doesn’t matter why Konrad knows, only that he does.”
“Konrad is dead,” Laura says. “I killed him myself.”
“We don’t know if he transmitted what Lydia said,” David sputters. “We have to be prepared that when we leave the grid, there will be someone waiting for us.”
I chew my lip at the familiar jerk-and-tilt signal of the jeep leaving the grid. Korwin reaches for my hand. “We’ll handle it,” he says.
The blur outside the window slows to a rush of trees and then gives way to a slow roll into Willow’s Province. David steers the Humvee onto the side of the road. Sure enough, there’s a large white van waiting for us. “It’s ours. Jonas made it,” David says.
“Quickly,” Laura says. “Before the Greens have a chance to figure it out. We’ll send cleaners back to sink the Humvee in the lake.”
No one hesitates. We pile out and sprint for the van. As soon as we’re within striking distance, the side door slides open of its own accord. I lunge inside with the others, moving from daylight into total darkness. It takes my eyes a second to adjust. It’s a second too long. The door slides shut behind me, and I can hear the lock engage. There’s a man, bound and unconscious on the floor. Jonas! My neck cranes towar
d the front seat and my breath catches in my throat. Behind the protective divider, Brady keys coordinates into the dash.
“At last,” he says, rubbing the side of his face as if it still stings from Korwin’s punch. “Dr. Konrad will be pleased.”
31
“Brady, don’t do this,” Korwin says. “You’re better than this.”
“Seems the Greens are willing to make sacrifices to have you back,” he says.
“What kind of sacrifices?” David asks.
“Bringing me back into the fold, for one. Do you know how long I worked to infiltrate Jonas’s inner circle? And in one night, you two ruin everything. After your little stunt with the transformer, I was excommunicated to the deadzone. It’s a small world, the deadzone. Just a matter of time before I found you.”
“The Greens kicked you out once. They’ll do it again. Help us and we’ll show you a better option,” David says.
“What? Camping in the Outlands?” He scoffs. “After landing you two and a bonus for delivering Jonas, the goddamned Liberty Party leader, I’ll be living like an Uppercrust for the rest of my life.”
“How did you know where to find us?” I ask.
“I’ve been doing odd jobs for Konrad since I left the fold. Stuff the Greens can’t get their hands dirty doing. Guy has deep pockets. He called me as soon as you left the laboratory and told me you’d try for the Outlands.”
“Impossible. Konrad’s dead,” Laura blurts.
“No, he’s not. I talked to him minutes ago when I saw you exit the grid. You don’t know anything about the doctor if you think he’s easy to kill. Man has nine lives.”
“You should know. You’ve kissed the ass of every one of them,” David says.
Brady peers at David cynically. “You a-holes always underestimated me. I was the one with the technical know-how to hack into the Stuart Manor compound. I built the damn thing while I was working for the Liberty Party, for God’s sake. I’m not just some kid with big muscles to carry the firehose. That’s why I couldn’t stomach you people. All for one and one for all? People aren’t equal. I deserved more. Always taken for granted. Not this time. You are my key to the lifestyle I deserve.” He points at me with venom in his voice.
