The Black Tide

by Keri Arthur

  But blood from my other wounds splattered beyond the boundary of my shield. It didn’t matter—nothing did but getting us both safely into that tunnel.

  Two soldiers ran at me. I shot one, dodged the other, and continued. But they knew where I was now and it would only be a matter of seconds before they took me down.

  I had one chance, and one chance only.

  I reached back, grabbed the remote, and pressed a button. The lab to my right exploded into a ball of fire, heat, and chaos. Such was the force of the explosion that it engulfed the men nearest it and sent others flying. I ran, with every ounce of speed and strength I could muster, at the two men who still blocked my way. They must have sensed my approach because their guns rose as one. Even as their fingers tightened on the triggers, I threw myself down onto my back, firing both guns as I skidded through the small gap between them.

  The light shield disintegrated in the heavy darkness of the tunnel, and I immediately reached for the shadows. As the force of it surged through me, I touched the top of the little girl’s head with a bloody hand and silently said, Don’t be afraid. What happens won’t hurt you, but it is necessary to escape.

  Again, she seemed to understand, because she made no sound even though the switch to particle form was as fast and as brutal as anything I’d ever experienced.

  The change had barely finished when the second of the bombs went off. As smoke and heat billowed into the tunnel and sprinklers dropped from the ceiling and began spraying the entire area with water, I pushed upright and kept going, keeping as high as possible.

  Gunshots pinged around us, but, as I’d hoped, the main barrage was not aimed high. They didn’t know what I was, didn’t know what I was capable of. I could only pray it remained that way, at least until I managed to get out of this place. If anyone thought to contact Dream and tell her what was happening, I was in deep trouble.

  Not only was she well aware just what I was capable of, but she'd also be desperate to stop a repeat of Winter Halo's destruction.

  I continued to speed along the darkened tunnel but slowed as I neared its scanner-packed entrance. There was no movement in the receiving bay beyond, but it was far from empty. There were at least two squadrons within the room; while some were positioned in front of other tunnel entrances, the majority had their weapons aimed at this one. I paused and studied the bay’s roofline. Thankfully, there were still enough shadows to hide within. As the final bombs erupted and a heavy rumble filled the air and shook the walls around me, I slipped past the scanners and moved to the tunnel that led to the main receiving dock.

  The intensity of the ominous rumbling increased until the noise of it overran even the screech of the alarm. Cracks appeared in both the walls and the ceiling, fine lines that seemed intent on racing me through the darkness. Jonas had warned me that the RTXs packed a serious punch, so maybe using so many in a relatively small area had created enough force to compromise the integrity of at least this part of the base.

  I couldn't help but hope so. It would make getting out a whole lot easier.

  The end of this larger tunnel came into sight and, once again, I slowed. There were still guards on either side of the gateway, and both had their weapons raised and ready to use. But they were scanning the walls uneasily, probably wondering—just as I was—how far the destruction would go before those in charge of this place ordered something done.

  I slipped through the gateway and made my way around the shadowed wall. An ominous crack appeared in the center of the loading bay’s ceiling, and dirt and debris began to rain down. People were now bolting for the side tunnels, but I wasn't entirely sure that was wise. Given the noise and the multitude of fissures appearing absolutely everywhere, it really did seem possible the whole base was now in danger.

  I dodged the debris as best I could and continued to make my way toward the elevator. As I drew near, the indicator light flashed on and the doors opened. Light poured out of it, and in an instant, the shadows were torn from me.

  I dropped heavily to the ground and staggered forward several steps, fighting to keep my balance against the rush of people now racing for the elevator. If I went down, I might not get up.

  Someone hit me side-on and threw me against the wall. My head smacked against the stone and stars danced as my legs threatened to buckle. I forced my knees to lock and wrapped my arms around the body armor, giving the little girl an additional layer of protection against the tide of hits and bumps as people continued to rush past.

  Another siren went off, and then a metallic voice grimly gave the evacuation order. People pushed and shove even more fiercely in their desperation to get into the elevator. But, beyond it, a red light flashed and then a section of wall slid aside to reveal a stairwell.

  The elevator doors began to close, even though people were still trying to get in. Others were racing up the stairs. The quake was now so fierce that the floor buckled and large parts of the ceiling started to drop. It surely wouldn’t be too long before the whole lot came down.

  I gathered my strength, and then forced my way into the thick throng of people running for the stairs. No one paid any attention to me, let alone the tightly wrapped bundle I carried. They were all too busy avoiding the debris and trying to escape.

  Just as we reached the stairs, there was a huge crash behind us, and then a fierce blast of dusty air hit, knocking several people over. I stumbled as someone ran into my back, but somehow kept my balance and kept on moving. The screams of those who had fallen were quickly cut off.

  We raced upwards, a human mass of fear and desperation. I could see neither the top end of the stairs nor daylight, but given the length of time the elevator had taken to get down to this level, that wasn't really surprising.

  Though we were tightly packed, no one was pushing. Everyone was too intent on keeping their balance and their position. But those cracks were beginning to chase us upwards, and the stink of fear, of desperation, became so fierce it filled every breath.

  A shudder ran through the metal stairs and then the lights went out. The man next to me hesitated, only to be sworn at and shoved forward by the people behind us. He stumbled, and I instinctively reached out to steady him. He thanked me and kept on going.

  The earth’s rumbling was now fierce. While the walls and stairs in emergency exit tunnels were generally built to withstand great force, they could be destroyed—something I now knew all too well, thanks to the bombs that had all but obliterated the two tunnels I’d used to get in and out of my bunker.

  This place, like the loading bay and the laboratories below us, wasn’t going to last.

  I didn't even think about it. I simply sucked in the shadows and once again became one with them. And then, with every ounce of speed I could muster, I surged upwards.

  I reached the exit in a matter of seconds but the storm still raged on the surface, and it almost tore me apart. Panic surged and I hastily regained human form, hunkering down on one side of the exit and shielding the babe with my body as I tried to see where we were.

  The elevator appeared out of the ground, sand falling like water from its roof as people scrambled out. They all headed to the left and, after a moment, I saw why.

  Transporters were waiting for them.

  I kept as low as I could and ran toward them. There were over a hundred people trying to cram into each of the first five trucks—trucks that had been designed to carry an eighth of that. I ran past them. There were another three trucks parked beyond them, as well as a number of hovers and sand barges. I went to the very last vehicle in line and jumped into the main cabin.

  “Sorry, love,” the pilot said, without even looking at me. “We're not cleared for takeoff as yet. Hop into the back and wait.”

  I didn't bother replying. I simply hit him over the head with the butt of a gun, and then dragged his unconscious body out of the pilot's seat and dumped him into the storm.

  Once I'd closed and locked the door, I stripped off the armor and used it t
o create a rough sort of pouch to hold the little girl secure in the passenger seat, and then slipped into the pilot seat. I’d never been at the controls of a barge before but they didn’t look all that different to the truck I’d recently driven into Winter Halo. After a moment, I located the starter switch and kicked the engine into action, then pulled out the geo-locator and transferred the rift’s coordinates into the GPS.

  As the big machine rolled forward, I leaned back in the seat and finally allowed myself to relax.

  The minute I did, a red tide of pain hit, threatening to overwhelm my senses and sweep me into unconsciousness.

  I fought it with everything I had and, after a few minutes, the threat receded, allowing me to do a quick wound check. There was a large and painful lump on the side of my head, a graze on my cheek, several surface wounds on my left arm, and a deeper one on my right. Blood ran freely down my side and hip, and my left thigh burned. Though my pants were soaked in blood, it didn't feel as if the blood was still running. All in all, despite the pain, I'd been pretty lucky. I took a deep, somewhat quivery breath, and then checked the little girl. No hits at all. There wasn't even a speck of dust on her. Rhea really had been watching over her.

  I secured her once again then glanced at the radar. The storm was a big black blob in the middle of it but there was no indication of pursuit. We'd gotten away, at least for the moment.

  I dropped the backpack onto the floor and then settled into a more comfortable position. While my body might be healing at a far faster rate than was normal, I still had to do something about the wound on my side. I really couldn't afford to lose any more blood.

  I closed my eyes and slipped into the healing trance. I had no idea how much time passed before I woke, but the storm was no longer battering the barge and sunlight now glimmered through the cracks along the edges of the storm shields.

  I hit the release button and, as the shields slowly retracted, the little girl made a sound that was part surprise, part laughter. I quickly glanced down at her. The sunshine pouring in through the thickened glass bathed her entire body, and though her eyes were little more than amber-green slits, there was a look of what could only be sheer joy on her face as she reached upwards with chubby little fingers.

  She was trying to catch the sunbeams.

  I smiled and touched her hand. Her fingers once again wrapped around mine and the link surged to life. What I sensed was belonging. Homecoming.

  I might be comfortable in either daylight or night, but this little girl was very definitely a child born of the sun. Who knew how the drugs she'd been given would affect her in the future, but right now, she was bathing in her element and simply happy to be.

  “Raela,” I said softly. “It’s a shifter word meaning little sunshine, and it’s yours from here on out.”

  A smile touched her lips and found an echo on mine. I had no idea what was going to happen to her once I got back to my bunker, but one thing was certain. Neither Nuri nor Jonas nor anyone else was going to get near her until they could guarantee that she would be safe, that she would not, in any way, be placed into another military installation, to be monitored and watched like some unusual animal. She deserved more than that.

  The barge rolled on, its progress slow and very tedious. After a while, I pulled out the small flask and carefully dribbled some water into Raela's mouth. She was too young for the protein bars I was carrying, and I didn't have anything else. I might not have had—or ever would have—children of my own, but I'd been around enough déchet nurseries both before and during the war to know hydration was the key in a situation such as this.

  After what seemed an eternity, the GPS finally indicated we were approaching our destination. As the barge automatically slowed, I leaned forward and peered out the windows. Dust devils were lazily pulling at the sand, creating gently spinning funnels that clouded the immediate horizon. I couldn't see the rift, but the alarm that stirred was as sluggish as those devils.

  The rift couldn't have gone anywhere, after all. The only person capable of either moving or destroying the things surely wouldn't risk doing either when Winter Halo was filled to the brim with officialdom and security forces, most of whom were intent on figuring out what had been going on in that place as much as who might have been responsible.

  We hit the coords I'd fed in and the barge stopped. There was nothing but sand for as far as the eye could see. That stirring of fear grew stronger, but I clamped down on it. It was no use fearing something until I knew there was something to fear.

  I hit the door release and jumped down onto the sand. The air was warm but the wind that teased the back of my neck hinted at the coolness of the oncoming evening.

  I walked to the front of the barge and then stopped, my hands on my hips. The rift had to be here somewhere. Had to be. But there was absolutely no sign of it. Nor could I feel the caress of its poisonous energy against my skin.

  I pulled the geo-locator out of my pocket and double-checked we were at the right location.

  We were.

  It was the rift that wasn't.

  Chapter Three

  I’d been expecting something to go wrong—things always did whenever I stepped through a false rift—but the possibility of it disappearing hadn’t even occurred to me.

  I walked around the barge, just to be sure I wasn’t being blinded by the bright sunshine, but the result was the same.

  No damn rift.

  I thrust a hand through sweaty, blood-caked hair and squinted up at the sun. It might have begun its journey toward night, but I couldn’t risk waiting for the stars to come out to see if any of them were familiar. Dream knew I could traverse the false rifts, and the minute she was informed of the attack, she’d order a search made of this area.

  I needed to move. Trouble was, I had no idea where home was in relation to our current location. I hadn’t thought to input Central’s coords into the geo-locator when I’d left, and I didn’t have any sort of comms unit with me—a totally stupid move I’d rectify the next time I went through a rift.

  Or anywhere else, for that matter.

  I climbed back into the barge, brought up the GPS, and scrolled through the screens until I found the tracklog. While the two rifts within Winter Halo had been large enough to cater to a barge this size, the sand base surely couldn’t have been getting all of its supplies from them. There were simply too many people working and undoubtedly living at the base for someone in either Winter Halo or Central City not to notice the steady stream of trucks going in and out of the building.

  The list of previous journeys that appeared on the screen was relatively short, which suggested the log was overwritten regularly. I scrolled down but didn’t immediately recognize any of the names—until I got to the last two.

  Longborne and Carleen. The latter had been one of Central’s five satellite cities before the war, and the very last one to be destroyed at its end. These days it was little more than a broken wreck—a place filled not only with shadows, alien moss, and human ghosts, but also rifts, both real and false.

  But it was only an hour’s walk out of Central.

  I’d just found my way home.

  I input the saved route into the GPS and then pressed the start button. Lights flashed across the panel and, as the barge trundled forward once again, I went back into the log and bought up the Longborne record. While it made me none the wiser as to where it was actually located, I nevertheless manually entered its coordinates into the geo-locater.

  After that, with Raela asleep, there was nothing I could do but eat some protein bars and watch the landscape roll by. Somewhere along the line I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, it was not only night but there were red lights flashing across the control board, Raela was crying, and a proximity alarm was going off.

  I muted the alarm, then picked up Raela to comfort her and peered out the front windows. The desert had given away to a thickly treed forest, and the vehicle was barely scraping through an in
creasingly narrow roadway. I glanced across at the GPS and realized we’d somehow gotten off course. I knew some of the more modern vehicles were programmed to detour around potential hazards, but the barge could never be described as modern. Besides, I doubted there’d be a hazard much worse than a forest this vehicle was ill equipped to traverse.

  I hit the kill switch but the barge didn’t stop. It just kept trundling deeper and deeper into the forest. I frowned and hit the switch again.

  Still no response.

  Foreboding stirred. I ran a full system check and soon realized what was going on—an external force had taken control of the vehicle. It didn’t take much effort to guess who that might be.

  I swore and bought up the terrain map. The reason for the proximity alarms immediately became obvious. It wasn’t because we were bashing our way through a forest, but rather because we were drawing ever closer to what looked like a goddamn cliff.

  I immediately swung around and hit the door open switch. Once again, nothing happened. The bastards were remotely controlling everything.

  Another light flashed up on the control screen. This time, it was warning of approaching vehicles. What it didn’t tell me was who the vehicles belonged to. It was always possible that they weren’t from the sand base, but I really couldn’t afford to take that chance.

  Besides, even if they were friendly, they were still a couple of miles behind us, and wouldn’t reach us before we hit the cliff.

  Which was now altogether too close.

  I ignored the thick thrust of fear and looked around for another means of escape. The front windows were too thick to shoot out with any of the weapons I had on hand. There were no side windows in the barge’s cab, but there was a rear-facing window, which I guessed was used to check whatever cargo was being hauled. It was little more than porthole barely bigger than my fist, but that was all my shadowed form needed.