The Rogue Spark series Box Set

Home > Other > The Rogue Spark series Box Set > Page 56
The Rogue Spark series Box Set Page 56

by Cameron Coral


  He stares back, frozen. He recognizes me. I know he does.

  In that moment, I try to speak with my eyes. I want to tell him, It’s okay. You are not a monster or a killer. Neither am I. Even though they try to make us kill.

  Peterson glances down, but it’s too late. Fury surges and slams the club into Peterson side, knocking the beast off kilter. Staggering, he edges away. Fury rises into the air, then dives and swings the club against Peterson’s spine. Peterson falls forward onto his knees. They’re practically in front of us. Peterson blinks, staring at me. And in that moment, I witness his pain. His fear.

  Desert night. Peterson lies on the ground. Shot. I lean over him and gaze into eyes the color of a burnt sunrise. He pleads with me to help. And I do. I touch his chest. I use my power to jump inside him and fuse the damage from the bullet.

  And I want to do that now. I should intervene. I’m so close I could run over and stop this.

  One more blow to the head could kill Peterson. And I can’t fix him this time.

  Every inch of me screams to move my feet. But I stay frozen.

  Peterson crawls on all fours, struggling to distance himself from his opponent. Fury dances for the crowd, and I want to heave. People rise to their feet, stomping, shouting. “Finish him.”

  Cassie stares at me, then back at the spectacle unfolding below us, no longer cheering.

  A chill washes over me. I don’t want Peterson to die. It’s not fair. He didn’t ask to be this way.

  Fury leaps into the air and circles above. He dips down, kicking Peterson, who falls over onto his side.

  The crowd screams. More.

  I dig my fingernails into my palm, drawing blood. Every nerve in my body feels like it’s on fire. Even though Kenmore is in prison, I know he’s behind this outrage. He’s still the one torturing Peterson.

  I can’t help myself. I scramble out of my seat and descend the steps to the barricade, then lean against it. “Stop,” I shout. “Don’t hurt him.”

  Amid the fervor of the crowd, Fury doesn’t even notice. Peterson’s ears twitch at my voice. He lifts his gaze, finds my eyes.

  In half a second, Peterson’s on his feet, crouched. Fury circles just above and dips down again. But this time Peterson is ready. He leaps five feet into the air, grabbing Fury around the legs and midsection. He brings the flying man down. They land together in a heap, wrestling and grappling.

  Fury thrashes against his beastly opponent. They roll. It’s hard to tell what’s happening. The crowd explodes at this surprising turn of events. Fury clutches the club against him, trying to wield it. But Peterson wrenches it away easily and tosses it across the arena floor.

  After more grappling, they separate, and Fury lies on the ground, bloody and wincing. He lacks the strength to fly.

  Peterson kneels, staring down at the broken man before him. The crowd is on their feet; the shouting reaches a fever pitch.

  Peterson’s gaze finds me. He blinks deeply once, then twice. Then he punches his powerful claws into Fury’s throat. Everyone in the audience cries out at once. Screams, cheers, and applause fill the arena.

  Fury’s body trembles, and his feet twitch as life abandons him.

  I can’t breathe. Can’t comprehend what just happened. There was no reason to kill him. Peterson could’ve walked away, refused.

  Instead, Peterson lowers his head and treks through the gate, taking leave of the arena. After the raucous crowd settles, people file out of aisles and up stairwells to exit.

  I lean against the barricade, weak and shaking. I don’t even turn around to see if Cassie and Joe are waiting. I don’t care.

  After several minutes, the arena empties. Finally, I glance back and Cassie waits alone.

  “Hey,” she says, her tone gentle.

  I say nothing but I turn to face her.

  “I thought you would like this. I was wrong. Sorry.” She edges closer.

  I lock my gaze on her. “That man died.”

  “Those who fight in the arena take their lives in their own hands. Dave knew the risk.”

  “And even with enhanced abilities, he still couldn’t win?”

  “Nobody has…yet,” she says and studies her feet.

  “He’s not a monster.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I knew him once. He’s not who people think he is. He wasn’t like this. Something or someone changed him into a killer.”

  She stares quietly.

  “Is Kenmore behind this?” I search her face. “Did he create fight night?”

  “Yes, before he went to prison.”

  I knew it.

  Twenty-Five

  That night, I stare at Cassie’s shadowy ceiling. Unable to sleep, I toss and turn as images of the fight flash through my mind. I try to meditate. Try to stop seeing Peterson slash a man’s throat.

  But I can’t block out the cheers from the bloodthirsty audience. The people of Terranus have unique abilities that could be used for good. They could change the world, but instead they’re content to watch each other die.

  I give up on sleep, sit up, and push away my thin blanket. Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes, wanting to clear my mind, but it’s hopeless. My pulse spikes as I flashback to the fight, hearing “Kill, kill, kill” ring in my ears.

  On the way to Cassie’s apartment earlier, I questioned her about why Peterson’s caged. “He’s always been there,” she said. She went on to say the matches usually pit prisoners against The Beast, but occasionally a challenger volunteers. The contests have been happening weekly for years.

  “He’s a dangerous creature,” she had said, “why would he be anywhere else?”

  “Has anyone ever asked him what he wants?”

  She didn’t have an answer. “It’s wrong,” I said, and she didn’t say much after that. What they’re doing to Peterson is wrong, and I want to do something about it.

  Not caring that it’s the middle of the night, I dress and pull my boots on, letting myself out of Cassie’s apartment quietly. Tiptoeing down the hallway, I make my way to the elevator pod, then out onto the main pedway.

  This time of night, the public pathways are practically deserted. One or two people pass me; they appear to be on their way to night jobs and offer only a passing glance as I tread toward the arena, compelled to see Peterson again. Something tells me I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help it.

  Posters still advertise The Beast versus Fierce Fury. Someone has torn down several of them, leaving only tattered edges. The corners serve as a gruesome reminder.

  Another poster catches my eye, and I stop for a closer look. A Wanted sign depicts the photo of a young woman with golden-brown skin, her face long and framed by her wild mane. Joanie. The fine print says there’s a reward for information leading to her capture.

  My heart sinks. Why would she be wanted? The thought nags at me as I make my way through the empty vine tunnel and emerge into the causeway leading to the arena entrance. Peterson’s cage appears deserted. It looks eerie without crowds nearby. No line of people waiting to glimpse The Beast.

  A clattering sound makes me jump. Three teenagers appear in front of the cage. Two of them drag sticks across the bars, banging them against the steel. The sound echoes through the cavernous hallway and assaults my ears. My body temperature rises and my annoyance reaches its peak.

  I jog over. “Hey,” I yell.

  The teens swivel their heads and stare at me, wide-eyed. One of them drops their stick and yells, “Let’s get out of here.”

  I rush toward them. “Don’t mess with him, you little shits. Don’t come back here!”

  They run off, shrieking and whooping.

  Resting my palms on my knees, I glance at the cage and see only darkness. If Peterson’s in there, he’s hiding. No way could he sleep after the noise from the young hoodlums.

  I suck in a deep breath and edge toward the cage, stepping quietly, not wanting to frighten him. Maybe he won’t even know I’m he
re.

  This time I don’t get too close to the cage; instead halting where I think his arms can’t reach me. But why? Am I afraid of him? When he tried to swat me, maybe he didn’t recognize me.

  “Peterson?” I say in a hushed voice. “Peterson, are you in there?”

  Silence greets me.

  “It’s me, Ida Sarek. I was at Frontier lab. I met you there. Many years ago.”

  Nothing.

  I shift my feet. “Peterson, if you’re in there, I just…I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted to check if you were okay.”

  A minute passes before I hear a soft rustling from inside.

  “Peterson, is that you?” I squint my eyes, trying to make out the mysterious shadows in the cage. But it’s impossible. I can’t see a thing in the murky darkness.

  “Do you remember me? You recognized me earlier. I distracted you during the battle, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you hurt.”

  I lower my chin and fold my arms across my chest. Despite my jacket, it’s chilly in here. I’m about to give up when a shadow stirs, and footsteps sound inside the cage.

  Then Peterson leans against the bars of the cage. The hair on is arms is thick and coiled. His deep ochre eyes shine in the darkness.

  “Ida,” he whispers.

  My heart does jumping jacks in my chest. I step closer. “Peterson, do you remember me?”

  He gazes at me and taps the left side of his chest, then points at me.

  The gunshot wound had entered him there. He remembers.

  “Yes,” I can’t help but smile. “It’s me, Ida. How on earth did you survive the lab and Kenmore?”

  His eyes narrow at the mention of Kenmore. He edges away.

  “No, wait. Please don’t leave.”

  He pauses.

  “Kenmore put you here, didn’t he? He locked you in this cage. Made you fight. It’s wrong.”

  He stares, waiting.

  I swallow. Every part of me screams against it, but I step up to the cage and wrap my gloved fingers around two cold, steel bars. My eyes water and tears stain my cheeks.

  “Peterson, look at me.”

  He lurches closer but keeps his distance.

  Any feeling of getting hurt disappears. He won’t harm me.

  “I know you’re not a monster. These people call you one. The way they keep you trapped and make you fight…It’s not right.”

  He lowers his gaze.

  “Do you want to be free? I live in Spark City. There are others like you. They’re called hybrids. Half human and half animal like you. And they have rights. They are citizens of Spark City.”

  He cocks his head, listening.

  “I can take you there. You could live as a free hybrid. You’d have a life among others like you. You wouldn’t be…alone.”

  His breath is heavy. He reaches out in the darkness.

  I hold my breath.

  He gently cups his palms against mine. My hands are dwarfed by his, but it’s warm and comforting.

  “Peterson,” I say. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

  Twenty-Six

  I use my borrowed access card to open the door to Cassie’s apartment. The lights are on. Did I wake her up when I left? I hope she’s not worried. I creep inside. After the narrow entranceway, I round the corner and see Cassie on the couch. But I blink, not believing my eyes.

  Ogre is here. The boy from Joanie’s group, Colin, rests beside him.

  “Ida,” says Ogre, rising.

  I rush forward. “I don’t know how you got here, but I’m so happy to see your android ass!” I wrap my arms around its waist. My cheek grazes its chest, and I’m grateful to be able to touch someone, even an android.

  Ogre clutches me and pats me on the back. “I missed you too.”

  Wiping away a tear, I pull away. “How are you even here?”

  Ogre glances at Colin. “He helped me escape.”

  The teenager blushes.

  “Well then. I have a lot to thank you for,” I say to Colin.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says in a soft voice. “I didn’t think it was right that Joanie took him like that.”

  “How did you manage to get in here? Past security?”

  Cassie folds her arms. “Yeah. Why don’t you fill Ida in on that?”

  Colin flinches at her words. There’s a familiarity between them. “Do you two know each other?”

  “This,” she punches him in the arm, “is my younger cousin. He ran away six months ago. He got in because he’s able to interrupt a person’s thoughts temporarily, so he convinced the guards they were to be let through.”

  “He did the right thing. Joanie has changed. I knew her a long time ago, but she had no right to take Ogre against its will.”

  I scan the room. “Where’s Joe?”

  “He had to work the night shift,” she says. “He left before they got here, thank God. He’d be pretty pissed about how they got past security.”

  I stare at Colin. “Nobody saw you and a seven-foot android walk by?”

  “If they did,” Colin says proudly, “I convinced them to forget about it.”

  “Wow, I wish I’d gotten that gift instead of mine,” I say.

  “Well, I wish I could be invisible like some people,” says Colin, rolling his eyes.

  “Shut up,” says Cassie.

  “Wait, what?” I say. “You can become invisible?”

  Her face reddens. “I was going to tell you. I just…was looking for the right time.” She glances away.

  “I’d love to hear about it later,” I say, “but right now, I have more important things on my mind. Ogre, I’m very glad to see you and know that you’re okay. But you being here complicates things. Take a seat. All of you. I have something to say.”

  Ogre settles onto the couch, and Colin and Cassie squeeze in next to it.

  I draw a deep breath. “There’s someone here I knew many years ago. He was a victim of Kenmore’s deranged experiments. Now, he’s kept here like a prisoner and forced to fight for entertainment.” I glare at Cassie and she bites her lower lip.

  “I don’t think it’s right,” I continue. “And I want to get him out of here. He has a name, actually—it’s Peterson. He belongs in Spark City. He can travel with Ogre and I. He’ll be safe and accepted there.”

  “But he’s dangerous,” Cassie blurts out. “He’s too dangerous to be free. You have no idea what he’s turned into after all this time. Do you know how many men—and women—he’s killed in the arena?”

  I meet her defiant gaze. “What choice does he have? It’s an arena, and he’s forced to fight. If he doesn’t, he’ll die.” I pace the floor in front of the couch.

  “How will we transport Peterson?” asks Ogre. “We only have two motorcycles.”

  “I’ll figure it out. First, we need to get him out of here without causing an uproar.”

  Cassie fidgets and bites her nails.

  “Something on your mind?” I ask her.

  “You don’t know.” She pauses. “You don’t know if this is the right thing to do. What if he likes it here? What if this is home for him?”

  “I just got back from seeing him.”

  Her eyes grow wide. “You went alone? But that was dangerous and stupid!”

  “He’s not happy here. Would you be?”

  She starts to speak but then leans against the couch, biting back her words.

  “Do you think this place is some kind of utopia?” I level my gaze on her. “Well, you’re wrong. And the stuff you think about the outside, about how dangerous it is…well, yes, there are dangerous parts, I admit. But I’d rather be free above ground instead of locked down here. Welcome to Terranus, where a good night’s entertainment is watching people kill each other. Do you understand how screwed up that is?”

  Cassie’s mouth twists, and she looks away.

  “You want to know about life above? About what it’s really like? Sure, Spark City has rough edges. Any city does. But you know what els
e it has? People who care about you. People who risk everything, including their lives, to fight for what’s right. To fight for what they believe in.”

  I stop pacing, and they all stare at me. My pulse races, and I realize my voice is louder than I intended.

  “I’m in,” says Ogre. “What is the plan, boss?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I need to think and maybe get some sleep. Cassie, when is the next arena fight?”

  “There shouldn’t be one for a week at least,” she says quietly.

  “Good. That buys us some time. Ogre, I want you to access maps—any blueprints of this place. Start charting out escape routes, passageways, and security flaws.”

  “Cassie, can you put these two up? Ogre can recharge sitting in a chair.”

  “Yeah, I got it,” she says, getting up. “Colin, you get the couch. Grab a blanket from the closet. You know where they are. Ogre, take that chair.”

  As Colin hunts for bedding, Cassie approaches. “Can I talk to you?” She raises her eyebrows. “Alone?”

  The two of us step into her small kitchen alcove.

  “What is it?”

  Her frown lines suggest trouble. “It’s just…”

  “You’re really bothered by me helping Peterson? He’s trapped like—”

  “No,” she says. “There’s something else. Something I need to tell you.” She has difficulty meeting my eyes.

  “Go ahead.”

  “You had asked to visit Kenmore in prison. I got approval for you to go meet him.”

  I’d nearly forgotten about the jail visit given the shock of encountering Peterson. Confronting Kenmore is the real reason I’m here. This may be my only chance to get revenge. To see him behind bars.

  I bite back my surprise. “Cassie, that’s…perfect. I can meet Kenmore before we get Peterson out of here.”

  “That’s the thing,” she says. “If you visit the prison, you’ll raise suspicions. Security will keep a tighter watch on you. It’s risky.”

  “So visiting Kenmore means escaping with Peterson will be tougher?”

  She nods, frowning. “Sorry.” Then she heads into her bedroom and closes the door.

 

‹ Prev