Aron looks up at me and darts over, and though I can't hear him, his mouth moves as if he's yelling for me to get him out. I wave for him to back up, but he stands frozen until I hold up the stunner and mouth, Get back.
This time he listens, and I shoot at the door latch three times. Finally, it slides away with a whoosh. A second alarm blares, alternating in time with the first. Aron dashes from his cell.
"What's happening?" he yells over the alarm.
"We're under attack by Elore. Stay in back of me."
I grasp Aron's arm and lead him through the partially destroyed hallway. Ready for whoever might find us, I keep my weapon extended in the deserted building. Outside, multiple buildings are damaged and burning, and crafts fly above in a shooting war.
My handheld buzzes on my wrist and a message flashes into my vision. I grab Aron and yank him down beside me along the opening we came from.
You are ordered to continue to bunker 210.
"Ms. Lark," says Waters in my comm, making me flinch.
"Yes?"
"You have a direct order to continue to bunker two-ten. I know your escort went down a few minutes ago. Is your EP malfunctioning? Are you injured?"
My stomach tumbles. "No, sir."
"Then what's the problem? Do you require a new escort?"
"Sir, I have Barton. Can I take him to two-ten with me?" I glance toward Aron, who appears about as terrified as when I threatened him in Elore.
"Ms. Lark, Barton is still considered an enemy. I'm sending a new escort team to retrieve you. They will take Barton into custody."
"He will be safe?"
"Haven't you noticed we're in the middle of a war? No, I can't guarantee his safety."
"And Ruiz agrees with this?" I shout.
The comm is silent.
"Waters?"
"Ruiz will do as I say," he says. "We don't have a choice at this point."
I tap the comm below my ear and disengage it. I scan the grounds and see no one coming for us yet. Without hesitation, I slam the stunner into Aron's hands.
"Okay … try not to kill anyone unnecessarily, but I need to do something."
"What are you doing?"
"We have to get you out of the city, and I can't do it if they're tracking me."
Aron's eyes grow wide, but he nods and grips the weapon.
I sink onto my heels and take in a gulp of air, trying to imagine the chaos isn't there. As I breathe, the surroundings disappear and everything goes white. I'm back in the doorless prison they built to contain me. I press my hand to the smooth wall.
They won't control me, I think over and over. I close my eyes and focus on the sensation of the wall. This thing needs to be destroyed. I open my lids to see the wall remaining in place. A stinging sensation starts at the tips of my fingers as I lightly press my hands into it, working its way through my limbs and forcing me to push harder on the slick surface. Cracks spread out in a spider web from under my hands, glowing red. The red grows and fills the surface. Popping noises ring out from the wall and it shatters, falling over my body, pricking against my skin.
When I look up, the wall is gone.
"Disengage the EP tracking function."
My surroundings go black, then gray, and then the space around me returns. The solid walls are replaced with iridescent, partially transparent code. The code churns to form geometric shape patterns.
Tracking Disengaged shows in my vision.
The tension releases and I concentrate on determining my next step.
"Show me a schematic of the compound."
An overhead layout of the New Philly compound displays. Our current position glows green, and I search the names of the buildings closest to us to get a better view of the grounds' layout. I tap a spot on the schematic.
"Destination."
The spot illuminates and directions appear in my vision. I touch my hand to the schematic again.
"Download directions."
The schematic glows brighter, vibrates, and, as if sucked into my hand, the whole thing disappears. I shake my head at the tingling sensation the download process caused.
"Information on Aron Barton. Currently held prisoner."
The code swarms once more to form the shape of Aron's ID image and words scroll up the space in front of me.
Name: Aron Barton
Age: 17
Sex: Male
Current Status: Prisoner of war from the city of Elore. Held in custody.
Status: Risk of continued containment high. Scheduled for possible elimination.
Elimination? My stomach lurches and I drop to my knees. Ben was right. I bring up the message that came in from him earlier. The words read in my vision.
Where are you? I'm being called to duty.
I need him here. This is our one chance. I formulate code in my mind and set it loose.
I'm embedding a temporary tracking program in my Flexx. Only your handheld can access it. Use it to find me. Now. It's time to go. If you can, get Meyer, I message back.
My heart surges at the thought of leaving Meyer behind. But he can take care of himself so it's a risk I'm willing to take. I'll contact him when I get to where I'm going. Not waiting for Ben's answer, I blink twice to resume to the real world.
Aron points the stunner ahead of us, hands shaking. Sweat beads over his pale face. I nab his hand and pull the stunner from it.
"Come on," I say.
"What were you doing?" His voice quivers.
No way will I fill him in on everything I saw, he might panic. I need Aron focused. "Waters informed me on the comm he won't guarantee your safety."
"Can you help?" he yelps.
"Do you want to be locked up for who knows how long?"
Aron gives me a perplexed expression and shakes his head no.
"Then follow me."
I tear through the compound, adhering to the directions in my EP, Aron in tow. A troupe of soldiers with the red stripes on their shoulders move past and ignore us, moving onto their duties.
As we run, I tap my comm and page Ruiz.
"Avlyn, you need to return to your assigned bunker," Ruiz's voice rings in my ear.
"No. Not before I have more answers. You know about Aron, don't you?"
"Avlyn, return to the bunker, and we will try to get this sorted out," Ruiz instructs firmly.
"You know I can't do that." I reach to tap off the comm.
The bombings have slowed, and I haven't heard an attack or seen any ships in the air since Aron and I escaped the detainment center. The directions in my EP lead us past the facility I was held in for the first three days here and its adjoining courtyard. We cut through the yard and head north. The storage buildings come into view. I increase our pace until we arrive at the roll-up door, placing my hand on the security pad.
I close my eyes and visualize releasing the door. In my mind, the door vanishes and I open my eyes to the actual one retracting.
"Did they provide you with access?" Aron asks, eyes wide.
"I have it covered. Get in."
We slip inside, and I palm the interior security panel to shut the door again. I check my Flexx. No message yet from Ben.
What if they have him?
"Avlyn, what are you doing?"
I take a deep breath. "I don't know yet. I need a few minutes to think. As of now, I have no idea who to trust—"
"And you trust me?"
"You were trying to do the right thing in Elore. You had no concept what you did would have hurt me. I know you're a good person, but Waters and Ruiz won't listen. We have to get out of here."
Panic washes over his face as he realizes what we're doing. "At this point, I'd rather risk returning and take my chances with imprisonment. Please take me where you're supposed to go and let them arrest me. I tried to save you in Elore, and you freed me from the cell before they bombed it more. We're even."
He turns to palm the security pad, but the door remains closed.
Aron swings a
round to me. "How's this door function?"
"Aron, you don't get it."
"What am I supposed to get? You'll get me killed!"
"If I take you back there, I can't guarantee they'll just lock you up."
"What do you mean? If they intended to kill me, wouldn't they have done it by now?"
"I'm not sure. But I do know you're … you could be locked up forever." Telling him they have him scheduled for potential elimination might be too much right now.
"Forever? How do you know?"
"It doesn't matter. I know, and Waters is sending me away, so I won't be able to protect you."
Aron's shoulders tense. "What are we going to do, take those?" He motions to the two scooters.
"I hope—" My eyes swivel to the metallic four-seater hover pods in the corner and I race for one of them, ripping off the fabric tarpaulin half-covering it. "This."
It looks worse than the first time I saw it; old and as if it wouldn't make it ten feet. I hate the idea of flying, but we'll both fit inside, and it will get us farther than the scooters.
"That's a piece of junk."
"If I get it running, it will get us out of here faster." I palm the security pad on the right of the door. "Release both sides," I command.
The doors on each side of the pod slide up. I stuff the fabric behind the pilot's seat and slide in. The interior is tight, but it will do. Aron still stands outside the pod, and I duck to see out the open door on his side.
"Get in!" I yell.
He huffs and climbs in. "This pile of junk won't operate. You're crazy."
"Meyer said the operating system was shot. I'll fix it."
"Now?"
"Yes, now. It should only take a second." I ignore the incredulous stare digging into the side of my head and place my hands on the touch-screen control panel. Bright white bursts in my vision, and in an instant my consciousness makes the damaged connections link again. The pod whirs to attention.
I blink and the front panel lights up. Aron jolts in his seat.
"How'd you do that so fast?"
"I'll tell you later. Right now, I need you to listen. You can't go back into custody." I search for something reassuring to tell him. "If you come now, I'll try to negotiate getting you released."
"Get me released? Can you do that?" He squints at me slightly, doubt filling his face.
"You've seen the kinds of things I can do. I'm valuable to them."
"Avlyn, this won't work. Take me back." He reaches to free the door and I slam my hand to the console, ordering the pod's operating system to lock it. Aron twists toward me, eyes wide. Eyeing the closed rolling door, my heart sinks. Still no Ben. No Meyer.
"Listen, you're not getting it."
"Obviously not!" he yells.
"Aron, if you stay …" I pause, but the words must be said, "they're planning to kill you."
Chapter
Nine
Aron drops back into his seat, breathing shallowly, not saying a word.
Inhaling deeply, pushing my fear of flying as far into the back of my mind as possible, I place my hands on the panel again. The craft lifts, my stomach dropping at the same time. Directions to fly it display in my vision. A bead of sweat runs down the side of my face. How will I do this?
Don't overthink.
I swipe my hands over the control panel, following the EP's lead, and activate the rolling door of the storage unit. The pod hovers over the scooters. The EP displays the best possible route, interrupted as a new alert scrolls across the bottom of my vision.
Missing Person Alert:
Name: Avlyn Lark
Age: 17
Sex: Female
Description: 5'6". Straight, Dark Brown, Chin-Length Hair. Light Skin. Hazel Eyes.
They'll be looking for us elsewhere now, too.
Map of New Philadelphia, I think. The image appears and lights the screen of the hover pod.
I rack my brain for the word I need. "Salon? Where is the salon located?"
Five potential locations illuminate on the screen.
67th Avenue … Orange ... Broadway …
Broadway. That's the one.
Hovering toward the open doors of the storage unit, I peer out for a visual of our immediate surroundings. The sky is clear of warships, and I dart the pod forward to our new destination. According to my EP, most of the activity has moved south, away from our current location.
"Where are we going?" Aron asks.
"Out of the city. But if I don't make a stop first, we won't get far."
I weave unfamiliar, deserted streets, trusting the EP's directions, until I spot the salon. A back entrance illuminates in my vision, so I lower the pod near it, hidden from the sight of the main street. As we kiss the ground, the vehicle groans.
Aron asks, looking around, "Why are we here?"
"Just get out."
"Avlyn?" Aron's voice is laced with frustration, but I ignore him.
The pod doors slide up and I grab for the tarp behind my seat. As I pull it out, Aron's shoulders droop, but he does as I say. A disembodied voice from a speaker orders people to return to their homes. It's the same evacuation message from my EP message earlier.
Once out, I use the tarp to cover the pod and gesture to Aron toward the back entrance of the salon. A small electronic security device is located on the door, keeping it shut. I place my hand over it and concentrate.
Disarm lock and security devices.
The door unlatches and slides away. I poke my head in through the opening and slowly step into the salon.
"Hello?" I call.
No sounds come from inside. Lucky for us, the owners must have obeyed the emergency alert continually playing outside. I motion for Aron to follow and head straight to the front of the shop to search for the tools I saw used the other day. A viewing screen sits to the left of a table.
Aron runs his hands over the back of a chair positioned in front of a mirror. "What is this place?"
"I'm not sure exactly. Yesterday I went into the city. In here, they were doing all sorts of ... well, ridiculous things. Turning people's hair strange colors and such. It seemed silly at the time, but if we're going to hide on the outside, we can't appear as ourselves."
Aron gazes at a digital image of a man with a green streak on the side of his head. The green-haired man's eyes are a shade brighter than his hair. Beneath the image scrolls the words Hair and Eye Color Alterations. A few minutes will transform your whole image. Latest CosmoNano Technology.
"Well, if you make me look like that, we won't stand out at all," he scoffs, nodding to the green-haired man.
"Yeah ... I'm not doing that."
"Do you know how to operate it?"
"Not yet, but I'll figure it out."
"Very reassuring." Aron cracks a nervous smile, forming the dimple on his cheek. "I might end up with green hair after all."
"I'll explain to you later, but stop worrying. No green hair. Give me a few seconds."
Next to the viewer sits a handheld marked CosmoNano. I pick it up and touch the information port on the viewing screen.
"Um ... CosmoNano instructions?"
Shimmering code flies directly in front of me and forms a female head with shoulder-length hair. At the crown, the neutral strands change to chestnut brown. I reach and touch the hair, sending a tingling sensation up my arms.
"Blonde."
From the crown, the hair color shifts, running the length of the strands, changing from dark to light. I shake my head. It's too light, almost white-blonde, and would stand out too much.
"Darker ... three shades."
The hair darkens as if wet, root to tips. I place my hand on the top of the false virtual head.
"Download instructions."
I blink twice and return to the salon. Aron's staring at me, confused.
"Okay. I've got it."
"What are you talking about?" he asks. "You didn't do anything. You just tapped the viewer."
"I told you
I'll explain it later—trust me."
Frustrated, Aron crosses his arms and paces across the room.
"I'll change my hair first, and you can watch." I hold the scanner to my head and activate it. The device vibrates in my hand and emits a soft, yellow light. I watch my reflection as I move the scanner along my brown hair. Aron stares, holding his breath, waiting for something to happen. Probably for my hair to turn green. The new color travels down the hair shaft until my entire head is a caramel-blonde color, similar to the color Aron's is now.
Eyes, I think.
The front of the device flips up, and I scan my eye and blink, opening my lids to sky-blue irises in the mirror. Aron steps back and inhales sharply.
I gesture with the scanner to the chair and few feet away. "Purple, right?"
Aron lets out a half-hearted laugh as he perches on the edge of the chair. I roll my eyes and run the scanner over his hair, changing it to a dark brown, similar to my natural color. When the process completes, I adjust the setting for his eyes and morph them to amber.
Aron releases a breath and hops up from the chair. "Well, this is new." He takes a last peek at himself in the mirror, then heads for the door.
With his newly brunette hair and eyes he reminds me a bit of Meyer.
I deactivate the device and place it back where I found it, following Aron's lead. Once we're through the rear of the salon, I secure the door, reset the security alarm, and run to the hover pod. I glance at my handheld another time for a message from Ben. Nothing. Emptiness fills me at the thought of leaving Meyer and him behind, but I can't wait any longer. I'll have to try to get in contact with him later.
At the vehicle, Aron helps me throw off the tarp, and I free the doors by touching the security lock and visualizing it. We swing into our seats and the doors shut us in. I stuff the fabric into the back of the pod.
"Ready?" I ask.
"Not really." Aron's lips quirk into a small smile and he motions to the console. "But I have to admit this is pretty exciting. When do I ever act so … irrational?"
"Hold on," I say, placing my hands on the console and willing the craft to start.
Immersed Page 8
