I shrug and nod. “I mean, they are your project, right?”
Carden frowns as he places the child in the dome in front of him. “I wouldn’t call them a project. More like the subject to a well thought out experiment.”
I scoff.
He snatches a towel from the shelf beneath the dome. “You see, Kylie. I thought you’d be grateful I brought you here.” He shrugs as he tosses the towel to the counter across the room. “It’s the safest possible place you could’ve been. Not to mention, I saved your life. Where’s my thank you?”
I give him a bitter laugh, pushing myself further into the room.
He takes a step back with every step I gain. “I begged you to stay, convinced you to stay because I knew that plane would blow. You would be dead if it weren’t for me. I convinced you to stay here because I knew what they were making of Creations.”
“You knew they were going to try to use me too, didn’t you?” I ease around the domes, taking a brief second to study each one as I search for ways to discontinue their conception.
Carden covers his mouth then drags his hands over his chin. “This has some truth. But I don’t think you realize the level of importance your existence holds. You don’t realize how valuable you are to us.”
“Alive? As a Breeder? As a robot? A lab rat? Stop me when I’m close.”
His back finally hits the wall, and he looks around him for a way out or a weapon. “Um. Well. All I can say is, you would have been comfortable. I wanted to do this in the right way, care for your humanity. Yes, you would have been alive, and a Breeder, and a robot, and a lab rat,” he says the word with an edge of disgust and gags. “I didn’t lie. You are very important to me. Think of what you can help develop in our future. Have you seen my new design?” he asks cheerfully.
“No. But I’ve heard about them, and the feedback isn’t good, Carden. It’s time you cut the cord.”
He breathes hard and nods, slipping past me to head for the baby domes. I face him and watch as he approaches the first one, squats down, and struggles to turn the knob on the post holding up the dome. “I, um. I can’t get it to budge,” he says.
“Put some muscle into it and hurry up. I don’t have all day.”
He grunts, wheezing as he twists his body in an effort to get the object to budge.
I cross the floor to the dome and lean over to locate the knob. Carden rises, huffing and puffing. I take the small bolt in my hand and give it a few twists to the right. It’s spins off.
“Ah!” Carden yells, charging for me. He throws his shoulder against my chest and tries to knock me to the ground. I shuffle backward, keeping my balance as I ram my elbow against his spine.
My back hits the wall, and the shock catches me off guard for a split second. Long enough from him to throw a punch in my side. I keep him bent over and ram my knee into his chest until he screams for me to stop. But I’m past stopping, boiling over with anger.
I throw my fist into his face, twist around to get him in a head lock, and slam him against the floor. I climb over him and jab my fist in his face. With only one punch, I bust his lips open.
“Please, Kylie. Please stop. I’m sorry. I’m very sorry.” He whimpers, tears clouding his eyes.
I hold back my next blow. “I do have a soft side. I’ve loved, I’ve cried, I’ve felt all sorts of things. And I know better than you that you are not supposed to use people despite what they are or who made them. Treating people like test subjects is wrong.”
He nods rapidly, repeating, “It’s wrong. I realize that now.” But he doesn’t. He’s just saying what he thinks will save his life. It’s what everyone does. Anything to survive.
“Okay, Carden. I believe you, and I’m willing to let you go if you’ll tell me two things.”
“Anything.”
“How do I shut down these domes to stop the torture of these babies? And how do we stop the Fourth-Generation Creation children?”
He sniffs. “You promise you’ll let me go if I tell you?”
“Yes. You have three seconds. Or I’m changing my mind.”
“They’re real babies. Shutting down the domes will kill them, and that will make you as bad as me. But if you must, there’s a breaker inside the cabinet where the towels are. Each breaker switch provides the power for the incubators. Flick them, and the babies will die within the hour. For the Fourth-Generation Creations, they have a dual kill switch that only a member of the Trade can deactivate.”
“The Trade was in on this?”
He quickly shakes his head. “But if the Vojin where to ever come and try to shut them down, they couldn’t.”
Clever. “What’s the code?”
“India, Tango, Tango, Echo, India, X-ray, thirty-eight, fourteen, sixty-two. They’ll need their fingerprint.”
“Are you sure?” I press the tip of my knife against this neck. He gulps. “If I find out you’re lying to me, I will slit your throat. Do you understand?”
“I swear. Please just stop hitting me.”
Nodding, I say, “Thank you,” and ram my fist in his face, knocking him out.
Rising to my feet, I grab every towel I can, knot them and tie up Carden so when he comes to, he can’t come after us. I open the cabinet with the breaker box and align my hand with the five switches. The coos of a baby nearby stall my action. I look over my shoulder. The five little ones didn’t ask for this, and the thought of other options for them rings through my mind.
Backing away from the box, I close the cabinet. I turn around and look into the nearest dome holding a baby with pink hands. At my approach, it opens. “I’ll find another option for you, little one.” I gently nuzzle its nose with my index finger. “And no one will ever harm you all again. Not as long as I’m around.” I back away, and the dome closes.
On my way out of the door, I lock it and pull it shut.
Arletta and Richard will have to wait. I need to make sure the children are okay. And more importantly, I need to tell Marc his mom may be alive. If she’s his mom.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
*Marc*
Sean bumps his fist against my back as I wipe my bloody blade clean on the shoulder of a Creation. The last of them to fall, the toughest to fight. “That was fun, huh?” Sean says.
I nod.
“We’ve not had that much action since fighting off the Zombies back in Chicago.” He stretches his arms over his head and leans from one side to the other. “I could live here and fight these shits every day as my daily exercise. Ahh,” he sighs, looking up at the dark afternoon sky still swirling with gray smoke. “You think this will die out soon? Or is it still consuming the city?”
“Don’t know.” I straighten my spine and look over the Creations Sean and I piled up, soon to be buried under raining ash. They’re bulky, all taller than six-foot-six and equipped with fighting techniques unlike anything I’ve seen. It became a battle of speed to find out how quickly I could avoid their attacks and land mine.
The Guidance’s enforcer Creations ambushed us, coming down a side street where we parted from Kylie, Ellie, Jasmine, and Jesail. They came for us, guns blazing, marching down the street in formation, steps in sync. Sean and I have a strategy when we’re outnumbered: take out their weapons first and then go hand-to-hand in combat. It’s never failed us yet. There were no fatalities on our side, and I’ll be damned if I don’t give myself a pat on the back.
Shadows come up behind me from the left and right. I watch from my periphery as I steady my breaths to calm down from the fight. “We wouldn’t have been able to do that,” Napoleon says, voice low with shock. He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Do you feel anything when you do that?” He waggles his pointed index finger toward the deceased.
I turn down the corners of my mouth and shake my head. “We need to move out. You hear that low rumbling coming from the west?” Thunder rumbles in the distance, bringing on the storm of dead-alive flesh-eating cannibals.
Napoleon throws his hand to his ear
and flicks his gaze to the ground. Soot cakes his silver hair and tops his eyebrows. He freezes and stares, eyes widening as his brows lift high, shaking a bit of ash off his cheek.
“That’s the Zombies. Their steps and their moans. The more ground they cover, attacking Normals or Creations, the more their numbers increase.”
Marshal and Gia come from around the corner of a three-floor building on the corner of on intersection where the traffic lights blink yellow. The Highrum and Desert Hills Creations trail behind them, expressions even. They seem ready for the next thing. Our destination is a block and a half away. A single building takes up the entire block, corner to corner. They’re likely already sending more of their Creations after us. And if the ladies made it in there, past their enforcers, it’s just the matter of getting out, because if they weren’t before, they’re on alert now.
I walk in the middle of the street, tugging my scarf over my nose and mouth. Marshal trails after me. I make it to the intersection, hearing the clicking of the light going on and off. I look down the street to my left; it’s clear of cars and humans. Nothing but rows of skyscrapers and high-rises.
A bridge in the sky connects two of the tallest buildings on both sides of the street. The windows reflect the gray city and flurrying ash. Down the street to my right, the road cuts to the right then left and leads to Superior Landing, the block of the Guidance. Yesterday, just blocks from here, these streets were active with the child Creations and Zombies.
I hear the Zombies in the distance, but it’s concerning the city is so empty now. I look around us, expecting something to jump out at me.
The building is in sight. A block wide, the center goes up six floors, and the sides go up two. Black brick and blacked out windows darken the block where the sun usually beams down, lightening the white front doors.
I don’t know yet why the Guidance wants to kill us, what we did to change their minds about our efficiency, or what role Kylie plays in this thing with them. But if I sit back and do nothing, I may as well put a bullet in my head.
“Marshal,” I look over my shoulder at him, and he hustles to my side. “Sean and I are going in. You all keep watch. Two Creations every ten feet. Circle the Guidance building. There’s a herd coming, so keep your eyes open. If they close in on you, make it inside, barricade the doors, and beware. We’re the enemy here. Do not leave your back open to be snuck up on. They’ll take you out if you give them the opportunity.” We shake hands, and he nods.
“You take care of your business. We got this out here,” he says and turns to the crowd, relaying instructions.
“Let’s get a move on, Sean.” I find him laughing with Gia, disregarding the needed focus for this task. “We need to get a hold of the Trade and alert them to what’s going on.”
Sean drags his feet, passing me. “But it’s more fun to fight out here than to find a connection to the Trade,” he says, whining.
I throw my hands on his inner shoulders, squeezing them as I push him to walk faster. “Suck it up, bro. There’s likely more waiting for us on the inside.”
We pull out our handguns when we make it to the path leading to the stairs.
“You want to go in through the front door? Just knocking mothers out?” Sean asks, walking up the stairs.
“If we don’t have to, let’s not. Only if it calls for it. The twenty Creations we just murdered were enough.” I grab the door handle and pull the door open. “Lower your gun for now. See if we can talk some sense into these people before we put a bullet between their eyes.”
He clears his throat and meets my eyes. “Or knife in their neck.”
I drag my gaze away from him and continue to the second set of doors. We enter, avoiding tripping over a burned body. The smell of smoke is replaced by the scent of burned flesh. Bodies litter the floor, seeming to have been set on fire. It’s jarring seeing so many Creation’s dead, by my hand and not. We shouldn’t be fighting against each other, but standing with each other. But, I guess, as suspected, some Creations are brainwashed. Maybe us Creations built for war actually have it better than the Highrum Creations living directly under the Guidance’s thumb. We had more freedom than I thought.
“Who would’ve killed all these Creations?” Sean nudges his boot against a body turned on its stomach.
I shrug, walking around the gold-plated lobby desk, finding it empty, without any kind of communication device.
“You think they were torched?”
“Don’t know, Sean. Looks like a blast, electric currents are still coursing over a few them.”
“Itteix…”
I nod. “Let’s keep moving. There has to be an office close around here.”
A set of rushing footsteps hasten in our direction. Kylie emerges from a hall to our right. She looks at Sean and me, and relief sobers her wide eyes before it’s replaced by worry. “What?” I ask her, coming around the desk to the center of the lobby.
Sean’s at my side, urging her to tell us what’s caused her distress.
She licks her lips and looks over her right shoulder then the left. “I think we freed all the people they captured.”
“That’s good. Right?” Sean says, cutting in.
She nods, brows high. “Yeah. But I think one of the women we rescued…” she bows her head, rubs the back of her neck, and looks up at us, slowly, “…is your mom.”
I cough against the blow of what she’s just revealed.
“What are you talking about, Kylie?” Sean asks, causing Kylie’s gaze to shift to him.
Kylie swipes the beads of sweat from her forehead. There’s a hint of a glow to her skin, evidence it may be her who’s responsible for killing off the Creations who lie around us. Having never accessed her light, the effects are likely draining her, but she can’t feel it because of the adrenaline. I meet her nervous gaze, and I can’t place what’s causing her discontent. Is our mother hurt? Did something happen?
“Spit it out, Ky.”
“There’s nothing else to say. They’re hiding away in the bunker a couple of floors down. She’s okay.”
Sean whips around and grabs me by my shoulders. “We can put this whole thing on hold right, so we can see her?” he asks, every word rushing from him in huffs as he pants. “The Trade, the Creations, they can wait, can’t they?”
I drag my hand over my chin and look over at Ky. “I know this is all important to you. But we need to see her. We can all use some down time. It’s been a long couple of days.”
Kylie pulls her hands behind her and tilts her head back. She doesn’t agree. It’s late afternoon, and we have time in the day, but Sean and I have been worried about our mother for months. I’d started to think she was dead, but instead, they’ve been studying her, using her…
“Kylie,” I say, “it’s not a stop. Just a pause.”
She nods. “There are some things we need to figure out anyway. Look,” she spins on her toes. “No one is after us. Something suspicious is going on.”
“If they are going to give us the floor, let’s take it. We’ll bring in everyone to where you are and regroup.”
We follow Kylie down six flights of stairs, down a circular cave-like tunnel to a vault door built into the wall.
A line of eighteen Normals or Guidance leaders stand facing the wall. Jesail, Jasmine, and a couple of Creations whom they might’ve recruited have their guns aimed at them.
I scan the open room—crowded with tables and cots—looking for the familiar face of my mother.
“Seanabe. Marcain,” says a dry voice from our right. Our mother is standing in a corner, dressed in a white jumpsuit, color gone from her face, hair tousled and knotted. I grab a water and a bag of freeze-dried fruit from a table I pass and rush over to where she’s standing with arms open wide and her knees trembling.
Sean catches her as she’s crumpling, throwing her arms around him, weeping.
I slow my steps. She’s likely angry with me for not being there for her. Whoever is behind this w
as probably waiting for Sean and me to leave so they could capture her. This entire time, she’s been here.
She pokes her head over Sean’s shoulder, eyes searching and quickly landing on me. She waves me over, and I go to her, handing her the water and food. Her smile widens. Deep, dark circles around her small eyes make them look sunken in, and the words blurt past my lips. “I had no idea you were going through this. We should’ve been there.”
She places her hand to my cheek, rubbing her thumb back and forth. “Get over here.”
I gently wrap my arms around her fragile body. “You’re okay?”
She nods, chin nudging my shoulder. “But I’ll take that bottle of water.”
Chuckling, I draw back and crack open the bottle to hand it to her. “What happened?”
She downs the water in the bottle in three gulps. “Ahh,” she sighs. “We got ten ounces of water and one bowl of soup a day. The day they shipped you two to Arizona, I received a special visit by the Guidance workers who demanded I come with them. Within an hour, I was on a plane to Highrum, and before the sun went down, I was locked in a room.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “They thought I was affiliated with the Trade’s secret mission to disguise aliens as Creation breeders.”
I rub my hand over her straw-like hair. “You’re never going back. You’re okay now.”
“I know,” she says, patting our shoulders. “What are you all up to?”
“Trying to stop the Guidance from killing the Creations. Supposedly, they are trying to make a new Creation, and they are killing us off or capturing Creations they suspect to be implants or Itteix.”
She looks away from me and nods.
“We need to speak with the Trade.” I look over my shoulder, finding Kylie keeping watch near the door, and point. “Kylie is avoiding being captured.”
“That young lady needs to get on some sleeves and pants. You can see the glow on her. And if she is what I think, she’s right to avoid them. They’re looking for a breeder they can use.” She lifts her gaze up to me and adds, “Breeders,” with emphasis as she lifts her brows.
Ominous Order Page 24
