I stomp, hands on my hips. "He…he’s inciting riots. I saw him on the news—”
“What? He said something on TV you didn't like? He pisses a lot of people off. That doesn't make him a lousy commander.”
“It's just…what he's doing—turning people against the hybrids—is wrong.” Flushed despite the cool rain, I continue. “You've known hybrids, Tyren. They've served under you. Tell me what he's doing isn't wrong—”
“Hybrids have died on my watch.” The tendons on his neck flex. “Don't lecture me about the morality of hybrid discrimination. Politics aside, if the hybrids stole Vance Drem’s tech, that amounts to treason against the military. What they stole is a weapon. A very powerful one. We need to get it back. It could protect us against the Heavies, if, and when, they invade here. It’s what’s best for the city, for the lives of everyone here, including the hybrids. We want you to help us.”
I lower my head. Could Gatz really be behind the theft of a weapon? My stomach lurches at the thought of working for Hunter. What if Vance's voice in my head doesn't go away? There’s no telling what I might do or say with him shouting at me.
Tyren checks his biocuff.
I grab his arm. “Hey, my healing power. Hunter knows, right?”
“Paul told him.”
Figures. Since I’d saved his ass twice, nobody could attest to my abilities more than Paul.
I follow Tyren as he starts toward his air cruiser. The reality of the situation sinks in. Once again, a powerful man wants to use me. For his own protection? Is that why Hunter wants me to report to him directly? “What did you tell him?”
“I told him how good of a soldier you were. How you were not only a medic healer, but also a strategist and damn smart.”
We reach his cruiser, a two-seater he can maneuver through the air at fast speeds above the dense city street traffic. Rain sends water trickling down my face. My mind wrestles with the fact that I’ll be Hunter's soldier, not Tyren's.
Out of nowhere, rage engulfs me. Crazed, out of control, I punch through the window of his flyer, shattering the glass and sending shards onto the seats inside.
Raising my chin to the sky, I scream and clench my fists. My entire body tenses. Full of hate, Vance controls me.
Tyren grabs me by the shoulder, shoves me away from his cruiser. “Ida, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Vance feeds off my distress, manipulates my fear into impulses I can't control. I force myself to kneel and shove my hands under my knees as the fury subsides. “I’m so sorry. I don't know what came over me.”
He leans down cautiously. “What happened just now, soldier?”
“I’ve been stressed.”
“Are you fit to report to Hunter? I know you've been a hellion in the past, but he will knock your ass down if you mess with him like this. Do you need more time?”
“Just go, please.” I eye the dome, hoping Lucy and Vera didn't witness my outburst.
Tyren brushes the glass from his seat and climbs into the cruiser. “Take another week to recover, then report to HQ. Get your rest. You'll need it.” Before lifting off, he says, “I have faith in you, Ida. Don't let me down.”
I'm still on the ground, perched on wet gravel. Even though the rain cools my skin, I'm sweating and scared of what Vance might make me do next.
He rises up within me to speak.
I close my eyes and try to push him down.
But he laughs. Push me away, and I’ll come back at you harder.
Seven
Two days later, the last thing I want to do is spar with Lucy, but she won't leave me alone.
"You promised."
"Yeah, I know."
"You don't want to be out of shape much longer, right? You haven’t said much about your visit from Tyren the other day." She stares at me as we hike toward North Pond.
I stiffen. I’ve been trying to avoid her and Vera finding out I’m rejoining the military. That I’ll be reporting to Colonel Hunter of all people.
"You're leaving us, aren't you?" She pulls my arm, halting us, and forcing me to face her. "He was here because you have to go back to the military?"
I nod.
"When?"
"A few days from now."
She peers down at her purple tennis shoes. "Damn, they don't waste time. Is this what you want? To return to the military?”
I start walking. "You ask a lot of questions, you know."
She hustles to catch up. “Well, is it what you really want?”
“It’s complicated, all right? Gatz might be in real trouble, and I can straighten things out for him.”
“In trouble like how?”
“No more questions.”
“But—”
“Or we don’t fight. I mean it.”
She shuts her mouth and quickens her pace.
After a minute, we reach the murky, wide pond. I breathe in the crisp, spring air as I stretch my arms high above my head, locking my fingers together. Lowering my arms, I spin around slowly gazing up at the sun poking out between fleeting rain clouds.
Lucy warms up on a grassy patch while I stretch my hamstrings. Fighting practice gives me something to concentrate on. A chance to test my physical strength.
Earlier, Lucy had explained she didn't stop her training while I was in my coma. Paul took over her coaching until he allied himself with his uncle; they weren’t friends once that happened, she noted with a pained expression. Had the two of them been a couple? If so, it had been short-lived. After the falling out, Gatz hired a martial arts instructor for her.
Lucy hops up and jogs in place, a shine in her eyes.
"Take it easy on me," I say. "After all, I haven't worked out in ages."
"I'll be careful, don't worry.” She grabs her backpack and pulls out two smooth, golden-colored sticks. “Bamboo from China. Gatz gave them to me, and I've been training with them."
"Fighting sticks? I guess the student has grown up and left her teacher behind."
"I doubt it," she says, her arms up in defense as she bounces in place. "I'm not as good as you might think, but I'll get there one day. Take a stick. We’ll each use one.”
We bow, then circle one another. Our shadows glide in and around our feet as if waiting for their chance to enter the fight.
I weave to my right in a defensive posture. My eyes shift quickly to a flock of birds in the shape of a V, flying north now that it's spring. I'm struck by the gravity of all that’s happened—Vance’s death, the coma, and how incredibly lucky I am to be alive.
"Your hair is longer," she says. "Pretty." She swings her head, and her long braid flies up and over her shoulder.
"Shorter is better for serious fighting. Let's go," I say, impatient to get started. Enough talk about hair.
We step closer, narrowing our small orbit. I grip my bamboo stick in my gloved right hand, my left arm raised, poised for defense. I pause, legs wide and coiled like springs.
Lucy mirrors my movements. Her fighting stance has greatly improved. The instructor did a good job helping rid her of bad habits. Now she's more flexible, less rigid than when I first started teaching her.
I edge closer, then lunge forward, attacking Lucy with the stick.
She blocks me with hers, matching each of my strikes, fending off my blows.
I withdraw. We resume our dance.
"You've improved," I say.
My compliment catches her off-guard, and she smiles. I take advantage of the moment to launch another attack. I lunge quickly and whack her on the shoulder.
"Ow." She jumps back, grabbing her shoulder.
I retreat. "Never let your guard down. Especially when your opponent flatters you.”
"I guess you haven't lost your tricky ways."
I toss my stick from one hand to the other. "Never underestimate your opponent. Someone at their weakest may be the most dangerous."
She cocks her head. "Is that so?”
"We'll see, won't we?"
She lau
nches an attack. I deflect her blows with my stick. My footwork surpasses hers, even though I'm rusty. I remember advanced steps that make me quicker.
Then I fend off another onslaught, but as I draw back this time, a wave of dizziness hits me.
You're off balance. Vance’s voice pierces my thoughts as if there's a megaphone between my ears.
I can't help it. I close my eyes and raise a hand to my head. Lucy attacks. Her stick connects with my thigh, and the blow stings.
She hesitates. "Are you okay?"
I try to calm my breath. "Yeah, good shot on me. I just…I have a migraine. They come on quickly."
"We can stop if you want.”
"No, let's keep going." I need my strength back. It's important, but strength won’t help me if I can’t control Vance’s outbursts. "Your footwork is much better but try to lead with your left."
She shifts her stance. Having grown taller in two years, her figure is more elegant. Nimble and fast on her feet, she's more imposing as an adversary.
And now you’ll run from your friends back to your beloved military. How easily Tyren manipulates you.
Damn him. Why can't I get Vance out of my head?
Lucy seizes on my distraction. A blow lands on my shoulder. I recoil, try a counterattack. She blocks, then advances again. This time, I push her off.
"You're good with the stick. Your trainer must have been a good fighter."
"He was okay, but I didn't like him.”
"Why not?"
"He had me do stupid stuff like clean his weapons and polish his shoes."
I stifle a laugh. "Why did he make you do that stuff?"
"I don't know. Gatz said I talked back."
"So he made you do stupid shit because of your attitude?"
Lucy shrugs. "I guess. Anyway, he's gone now. I don't need him anymore. Now I have you. The teacher I should have had all along. My best fr—”
I lunge at her and land three fierce blows. I don't realize I'm doing it. I would never attack her so viciously, hit with such force.
Her eyes grow wide as she falls to her knees, shielding her head. It takes every inch of strength to stop. I loom over her, stick raised.
Finish the bitch off. I flinch at the sudden jolt of Vance’s words. End her now. You’ll kill her eventually anyway.
Confused and dizzy, I stagger back. Lucy blindly jabs with her stick, smashing me in the face. Hard. My ears ring, and I tilt awkwardly to the left. Warmth covers my chin. My knees buckle, and I fall.
"Ida, I'm sorry!" Lucy drops her stick with a clatter and kneels in front of me. "I didn't mean to…You were coming after me really hard and—”
"Enough.” Feeling my nose with caution, I check for any ridges, bumps. "You didn't break it."
"I'm so sorry. Nothing like this has ever happened before."
I pinch the bridge of my nose to stem the flow of blood. "Lucy, this is part of fighting. It'll happen to you someday.” Still dizzy, I force my head between my knees.
Drops of blood splatter onto the dirt. Vance has left his mark. He laughs again but sounds farther away.
He hides somewhere deep in my mind and emerges when I least expect it.
I need to get rid of him, or he's going to cost me a lot more than a bloody nose.
Eight
Since the incident at the pond, my stomach feels like it’s full of rocks. My chest aches with guilt. I attacked Lucy with violent force, but it wasn't me. Vance forced me to act. I can't think of any other explanation.
If he can interfere with my thoughts and control my actions, he's dangerous. I don't want anyone getting hurt, especially not Lucy and Vera.
Or Gatz.
I need help. A way to get him out of my head. Lucy told me where the medicine woman, Alkina, lives. They set her up in Vera and Lucy's old apartment a mile away.
I jog to the building and climb the eight flights of stairs as I did once before to heal Vera when she overdosed. The smell of bleach clings to the walls within the stairwell. Harsh fluorescent lights guide me as I ascend.
As I reach the door, memories of the night two years ago flood me. Vera on the couch, unconscious. My touch didn't work. She was too far gone, but Lucy begged me to try again. Then, in a fury, she ordered me, and I brought Vera back from death.
Knocking softly, I don’t hear a response, so I rap louder. Nothing. I test the doorknob, wondering if something’s wrong. It opens, and I venture inside.
The smell of incense invades my nostrils. A dozen small candles light the room. The furniture is basic—a couch, small dining table with three chairs, and nothing else. No signs of modern technology, no media screen. I doubt Alkina has a biocuff or a matrix-connected device. She probably led a simpler existence in Australia.
My eyes adjust to the dim light. Alkina rests cross-legged on the living room floor with candles forming a circle around her. Before her, ancient-looking stones lie interspersed at odd intervals.
With closed eyes, she seems half asleep though she sits straight. Is she meditating? In a trance? I stuff my hands in my pockets, wondering how long it will take her to notice me.
The room is comfortably warm, and a breeze flows through an open window causing the candles to dance, casting shadows on the walls.
“Sit.” Her voice breaks the quiet atmosphere, and I jump. Lately, I’m on edge all the time, worried when Vance will next penetrate my thoughts.
Eyes still shut, Alkina waves her hand in front of her, an invitation.
“Alkina, I didn't mean to interrupt—”
“Quiet,” she says sharply.
I step into her circle and sit facing the small, round woman.
Her features are blank, peaceful. A white paste covers her forehead, nose, and chin. Three small white dots run across her cheeks, and a mass of curly hair frames the top of her head.
The stone in front of me is the size of my palm. I've never seen a rock with its dark magenta color.
“You came,” Alkina says in a low voice, her eyes now open and trained on me.
“Hi. I know I came unannounced, but Lucy told me I could find you here.”
“Your face hit?”
“Just bruising from sparring with Lucy earlier. It’s nothing.”
She smirks. “The girl did that? She tougher than I thought.” Her eyes brighten. "What you need?" She points to herself. “Help?”
I nod.
“What is problem? Is it the man I saw? The Metal Man?”
“Yes. He's in my head. I hear his voice, and I think I'm going crazy.”
“I see.” She frowns.
“Is there anything you can do to help me stop him?”
“When I try to wake you, I see the man that you speak of. I pull you toward me.” She closes her eyes and grasps a small blue stone in front of her. "You were spinning in a circle, yes?"
Spinning? She must mean the carousel I leaped from. "Yes."
"His name...Vance. I see him in my mind's eye. I almost pulled him away from you." Her eyes fly open. "He is a bad man, very dangerous. Masalai."
"What does that mean?"
“A dark spirit." Alkina stretches out her hands, palms facing up. "My medicine pulls out the dark one.” She clenches her fists. "But in you, he stayed. I pull you out, but I could not pull him. He lives inside you."
"What do you mean lives inside me?"
I am part of you now.
"This metal man, he is dead, no?"
"He died two years ago when I fell into my coma." I gaze down at my lap.
“You kill him?"
“Yes,” I say quietly.
"That explains it. His spirit went into you at death. He stopped you from waking."
"He hates me. He’s dangerous. Alkina, can you pull him out of me? Make his voice stop?"
She clasps her hands, rubbing them together slowly. "Hmm. Very difficult…"
“Why?”
"Let me tell you a story.” She waves fingers through one of the candle flames. “There was a boy named Ir
itu who lived in my village. One day, after traveling through the deep forest, he became very sick. He had gone to a forbidden place—a cave in the forest. A masalai spirit flew into him like a dark shadow." Suddenly the candle in front of her flickers out. "He was possessed by a dream walker.”
"A dream walker?" I fold my arms across my chest and shiver.
"Masalai made the boy sleep like you, and the dream walker haunted the boy as he slept."
The skin on my neck prickles. "Vance chased me through my dreams."
"Yes, he is a dream walker now."
"So how do I stop him? Can you pull him out? Destroy him?"
Her brow furrows. "My husband, he performed a ritual on the boy." She stares at the magenta rock. "He drove the spirit out of Iritu, but the masalai took something from the boy."
I lean forward.
A tear falls, streaking through her white face paint. "The boy, Iritu, he never the same again. Numb. Didn't play or love his family anymore. He journeyed into the forest one day and never came back. I fear same thing will happen to you if I try ritual.”
"I could become numb, emotionless like Iritu did?"
“And you won’t heal anymore. I see the healing energy in you—the machines in your blood. Ritual will destroy them, I think.”
"What should I do?"
She pulls an old-fashioned matchbox from her pocket and lights the candle again. "I must think…meditate.”
She pauses for so long, staring into the candle, that I wonder if she’s gone to another place.
"Running out of time, Ida." She places her warm, frail hands on mine and peers into my eyes.
In a few seconds, my eyelids grow heavy, and close. Then I’m jogging through a Spark City street, away from the river, away from DremCorp. In the distance, Section H appears. Gatz is there with Lucy, Vera, and Paul. I sprint, knowing I must reach them.
Warn them.
An air cruiser descends from the clouds and jettisons a bomb. The district erupts. A blast of white heat hurls me in the air and tosses me onto my back.
Ashes fall all around me. I rise, shake my head. Blood drips into my eyes. Section H is annihilated. Scorched. Like I saw in the big tent.
I scramble up and race down the street, dodging debris. Bodies lay scattered on the road, Gatz and Lucy among them, their arms outstretched, mouths twisted. Their vacant, lifeless eyes stare at me.
The Rogue Spark series Box Set Page 29
