54
Fortress Breached
Aaron
Cold air brushed Aaron’s face, teasing him out of a wonderful dream of strolling across an empty Frictionless arena with Anna at his side. He moaned, confused by weight on top of him. Hair fluttered in his face with the next gust, making him sputter and open his eyes. The blonde girl who saved his life in Rakshasi’s apartment lay on top of him, warm cheek to his bare chest, drooling. She made no sound as she breathed, soft and slow. Aaron reached up, brushing the hair from her face, and squeezed her shoulder. The girl didn’t react.
“Oi, mite,” he whispered. “Y’awrite?”
I’m on the bloody roof. He forced himself to sit up, cradling the limp child in his arms. Aside from some blood she’d stepped in, she didn’t have a mark on her, yet she wouldn’t stir. All around him lay bodies, soldiers and some of Archon’s security detail. A distant scuffing of boots accompanied a feminine grunting.
“Don’t move,” said a man, sounding on the verge of crying. “Division 0 police.”
“Awright, but I don’t think you’re going to shoot me with ‘er in me lap. An’ I’m on your side, mate.”
“Is she alive?”
A second glove slapped onto the edge of the roof.
“I’m gonna stand up, eh? Don’t panic.” Aaron slid an arm under the girl’s knees, cradling her as he levitated himself upright.
A Middle Eastern-looking man in gloss black psi armor stood near the unconscious body of the red-haired woman. Aaron raised an eyebrow at her one bare breast and arm, but paid more attention to the E-90 pointed at him.
For a second, a camouflage helmet rose up between the gloves but dropped out of sight. A woman panted. Aaron telekinetically latched onto the gloves and hoisted the wounded Marine up and over onto the roof.
“Put it down, mate. I’m not with them. I’ve recently come out of retirement.”
Moans from the right made the man jump. A few of Archon’s people got up and dragged themselves to the door. Aaron looked down at the child in his arms. Screw it, let ‘em run.
“Besides,” said Aaron, holding the girl a little higher. “Would this one ‘ave used me for a bed if I was unsavory?”
“I suppose not. She’s got a sense about people.” He stowed his weapon. “I’m not sensing any duplicity.”
“Ehh.” Aaron grimaced. “Don’t try an’ influence me, it wouldn’t be pretty.”
“You’re Pryce.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“David Ahmed. They said you’d gone rogue.”
Aaron offered a cheesy smile. “Was a bit of a misunderstanding. I suppose the official story will be that the whole thing was an elaborate undercover operation. Truth is a little more dodgy. How’s your girl?”
David blinked.
“Come on, mate. Don’t gotta be an empath to see the tears on your face. Grab a blanket from your Pat-V, her tit’s out. Oh, be careful with her. Archon got into her head. She thinks he’s her damn father now. Might try to hurt you. Did quite a number on… feck, do you know how much this suit cost?”
Aaron whirled at a scuff behind him. Melissa, bound hand and foot with plastic riot ties, crawled like an inchworm out from behind the air handler. Tears oozed from her red-ringed eyes. She coughed and sputtered on snot, bawling like a girl half her age.
“I wanna go home. I’m sorry. You were right.” She struggled. “Help, please…”
Aaron looked down at the scorched necktie hanging over his naked chest. The sight of the sleeping girl in his arms sapped his anger away.
“Sorry, kid,” said David, approaching Melissa. “I can’t say what’ll happen, but you’re probably going to face some charges for shooting Officer Pryce.”
“Lieutenant, apparently.”
Melissa bawled and screamed, unsuccessful in her attempt to writhe away as David put a metal headband on her. “Daddy!”
“Lieutenant?” David shook his head. “That’s going to go over well.”
“Not my idea, mate. Oi, is that necessary? She’s just a kid.”
“She was part of an organized criminal psionic gang. She’s got to answer for that.”
“For what? Being conned by a lunatic? Archon turned her parents against her and fed her a line of shite. We both know the brass has a habit of being forgetful when people sign on that dotted line.”
“I… voices,” Melissa muttered and shook her head. “Stop it. No. I don’t wanna. Shut up. Shut up. Where am I? I don’t care. Stop. Stop. Stop. Mommy! Please! I swear I’ll stay in the school. I promise I won’t run away again! Stop whispering!” She surrendered to bawling.
David cringed.
Light swarmed the roof as a legion of Division 0 patrol craft swooped in and landed. David took the psi inhibitor off Melissa’s head. Her psychotic mumbling ceased to a low, repeating moan of ‘ow.’
“I hate those bloody things.” Aaron shivered. “It’s like having a houseful of tertiary relatives you see once every few years crammed into your brain and chatting about Aunt Mildred’s bunions.”
David cut Melissa’s ankles loose and helped her to her feet, but left her hands secured behind her back. “She’s terrified.”
“Are all telempaths masters of the obvious?” asked Aaron. “She’s a telekinetic, potent too.”
“You could’ve told me that before I took the inhibitor off.”
“I won’t do anything bad. Please, don’t put that fucking thing on me again. I’ll do whatever you want. Please.” She dropped to her knees, crying. “I wanna go home. I want my parents.”
Two tactical officers trotted over. David pulled Melissa upright and handed her to them. “Kidnap victim.” He gave Aaron an accusing look. “Go easy on her. Sounds like the guy in charge here threatened her parents.”
“Mind control,” said Aaron while hefting Althea. “For a scrawny thing, this girl’s getting rather heavy.”
Melissa sniveled, but walked obediently with the officers to a car, though her NetMini did leap from the roof to her pocket. The woman in grey/black camouflage armor, lying on her back where Aaron left her, groaned and sat up. She stuck her finger in a hole where a bullet had pierced her chest plate, looking mystified at the lack of blood gushing out.
“ID checks out,” said one of the Division 0 officers to the others, lowering his weapon. “You ok, Corporal?”
The woman held up her right hand. “Think my fingers are broken, but I’ll live. What happened to me? My body moved on its own… I…”
“Archon took over your mind.” Aaron carried Althea to the car David arrived in and set her down on the back seat.
Thank you. Melissa’s teary voice entered his thoughts. You were right. Mom and Dad want me. I’m, uhh, sorry about the stunrod.
He leaned on the vehicle in front of him as a blast of remembered agony emanated from his crotch. She stared at him, standing by the rear door of a patrol craft. The officer escorting her put a hand on her head and guided her into the back seat.
“If that kid does something,” said David, walking past him. “It’s your ass.”
“She won’t. The only reason she was with Archon at all is he put the gris-gris on her parents.” Aaron wheezed, still in the throes of latent testicular trauma. He clung to the car to keep from falling over as David took a knee by Kate’s side. “Careful. She’s been mind-wanked.”
“I don’t like this Archon guy.” David slipped the psi inhibitor over Kate’s head, locked her wrists behind her, and wrapped her in a blanket. “I really don’t like him.”
Aaron limped around to the other back door, opening it so David could ease Kate inside. “I tried to stop him before he got in too deep. I might be able to break the telepathic overlay. Did it twice in London already. Bit of a ballache, that.” As soon as he said the word, the boys twinged with pain, and he grunted.
“Get in,” said David. “I’ll drive.”
Aaron fell into the passenger seat. “You should talk to Ridge. He’s got a betting
pool on who’d bring me in first.”
David jogged around the hood and got in. “Didn’t you say you’re reinstated?”
Aaron leaned back and closed his eyes. The soft seat felt amazing. “Aye, but Vern doesn’t know that yet.”
55
The Death of Phantoms
Kate
The scent of dirt filled Kate’s nostrils. Her eyes opened. She lay face down on a forest path, nude, underbrush scorching away from wherever her little body touched it. A short distance to her left, the charred carcass of a deer sprawled on the ground. Kate gathered her feet under herself and stood, looking down at her flat, shapeless body. Small clumps of dirt stuck to her chest and thighs, steaming and drying out. The ashen remains of weeds curled up and blew off upon the wind.
I’m dreaming.
Cracking and crunching trampled out from the forest behind her, a sound growing louder as if an army of monsters approached. She faced it, finding herself taking hesitant steps back. Her heart raced. Something sinister rushed toward her in the darkness. The deer carcass moved; its head rose from the ground, pivoted to face her, and its mouth hung open, leaking blood. Kate screamed and ran, arms held up to shield her face from low hanging branches whipping at her.
The rustle coming up behind her intensified to a steady rumble, shaking the ground. Her surroundings seemed familiar and alien all at once: the forest where she’d lived for so long, alone. None of the landmarks she remembered remained. Her passage left a trail of flames across the underbrush. Even the sharpest thorns broke apart to ash before they could pierce her unprotected skin. When she crossed a small creek, water flashed to steam where her feet dared approach. Kate scrambled up the inclined bank on the far side.
This is not real. This is a nightmare. Wake up!
Laughter, watery and distant, drew her to a clearing in the trees, where a tall wooden fence right out of suburbia surrounded a picture-perfect two-story home. The sound of giggling children came from the other side. She sprinted over the manicured lawn, eager to get away from the menace behind her. Kate flung herself with a flying leap onto the fence, her touch burned char marks in the shape of hands and toes in the planks as she climbed up and over the barrier. For a few seconds, she perched at the top like an alley cat, looking back at the undisturbed forest. Fire spread outward along the wood from wherever her skin made contact.
Nothing emerged from the tree line, but the forest seemed frightening still.
She jumped down. As soon as she landed, a frilly pink dress appeared on her. It didn’t burn, nor did the bright green grass upon which she stood. Faceless people stared at her from behind a table so long it stretched to the horizon. Thirty or so generic children with blurry spots for heads clapped and cheered. Two adults, a man and a woman, waved at her to join them.
Kate looked down at herself. The ostentatious dress looked like something a doll would wear. The skirt flared out over white frills beneath. Her dirt-caked bare feet seemed woefully out of place for such a fancy affair. Without even realizing, she swiped them through the damp grass in an effort to clean herself before taking a hesitant step closer, unsure if she should trust the blurry figures. A snarl came from her left, more cute than menacing, like one of those dogs small enough to sit in the palm of your hand. She hopped to the right and spun. A tiny pink cake, the size of a grapefruit, balanced on spindly white legs made from birthday candles. Beady stick-on eyes atop the icing glared at her. The separation between layers opened to reveal a row of gleaming triangular teeth. It growled and flung itself at her leg.
She screamed and kicked it. Icing oozed between her toes as the monstrous confection exploded on impact. The faceless children laughed. Kate looked up at the ‘father’ figure for help. He pointed and laughed, regarding the little creature as harmless. Another appeared in the grass, running at her. She stomped it flat and kicked another one rushing in. Sugary goop splattered everywhere. A fourth mini-cake snuck her from behind, sinking needle-like teeth into her right calf. Her glass-shattering scream made all the faceless children clamp their hands over their ears. Cake smushed between her fingers as she grabbed the snarling critter and crushed it. Teeth, once sharp, smeared to soft icing.
I’m having a nightmare.
“Well, you wanted a nice cake for your big seventh birthday, Katie!” said the ‘mother,’ in a grand voice. She gestured to her left as if presenting a game-show winner with a new car. “It took me all weekend, but I made it.”
The Cake stood between the faceless parents. Six feet tall, nine feet wide, it separated between the second and third layers, exposing a mouth lined with red preserves that seemed more like blood than jam, an endless throat stretching into darkness. Glinting fangs outlined a mouth big enough to swallow five children whole. A blast of hot, sweet air laced with strawberry blew her hair back as it roared. Kate forgot she dreamed.
Piss ran down her leg.
‘Mother’ smiled, proud of her baking. “Now go on, cake, have some birthday girl.”
“Blow out your candles, sweetie,” said a distorted, deep voice.
Seven candles atop the monstrous dessert fumed like inverted rockets spewing flames upward.
The fence shattered to a thousand toothpicks under the weight of an army of red-eyed deer, skinless and cooked. The smoldering horrors smashed their way into the yard and rampaged among the partygoers. Faceless children screamed and ran as the creatures set upon them. Kate darted away from the gargantuan cake, but stopped three strides later in front of a little boy with no arm and a deer chewing on his neck. More trotted over, forming a ring around her
“How many of us did you kill?” asked one deer. “We had feelings too.”
An enormous buck, its chest a hollow cavity, loomed over her. “Saying sorry doesn’t make it all right. I’m still dead.”
“Time for deer to eat people,” said another, snarling.
Kate spun in place, finding nowhere to run. She bawled, surrounded by smoldering, undead deer and one extremely agitated giant cake.
“Daddy!” she screamed as they closed in.
Kate sat up in a plain room, pure white on all sides except for one wall, which consisted of a shimmering blue energy barrier. Sweat covered her, and she trembled for a few seconds until the realization sunk in she’d had a nightmare. The thick plastic of a Comforgel pad formed a bowl around where she sat, holding a puddle of warmth. She blushed at wetting her bed. Daddy would be angry with her. Kate was a big girl now. She’d just turned seven, and big girls shouldn’t wet their beds. She climbed out of the mess, pacing in a circle around the small holding cell, biting her fingers and whining. A thigh-length white smock clung to her, keeping the foulness pressed against her skin.
“Eww!”
Disgusted by the chilly touch of urine-soaked cloth, she pulled it off and used the dry parts to wipe herself before wadding it up and tossing it at the force wall. The garment crackled and sparked for a few seconds as it fluttered to the floor.
After a few more laps, she curled up on the floor, knees to chest, and cried. She rubbed the back of her leg where the cake bit her, but found no wound. The pain in her calf lingered only in her mind.
Daddy, help! I’ve been kidnapped!
She sniffled and whimpered for some time, shivering in the cold chamber. The Comforgel pad would keep her warm, but she’d soiled it. Outside, a stark white hallway, every bit as featureless as her cell, remained silent. What could have been minutes or hours later, a Hispanic woman walked into view in a black, clingy uniform. She looked at Kate with a mixture of worry and disapproval.
“You’re awake.”
Tears streamed out of Kate’s eyes and she slapped her hands on the ground. “Where am I? I wanna go home. Where’s my daddy?” She rocked back and forth. “I’m scared. I wanna go home.”
“Sounds like she’s regressed,” said a male voice. “I wonder if it’s a side effect of the botched implant.”
The female officer moved to the side of the cell. “She’s terr
ified. It’s no act.”
Kate sniffled, cowering away from the scary woman. Her fear weakened and leveled off to an inexplicable calm. Soon, she felt such contentment she didn’t want to move. Gravity took her over sideways, and she smiled.
The officer walked into the cell and, after wiping her down with a flower-scented cleaning pad, pulled a clean smock over her head, dressing her as though she were paralyzed. When the woman let go, she remained where she flopped, lacking the willpower to move.
A few seconds after the thrum of the energy wall resumed, the overwhelming tranquility faded, though she didn’t feel as frightened as before. Kate sat up, looking around at her room as if seeing it for the first time. “You’re bad people! Let me go! Daddy!”
“She’s dressed, sir,” said the female officer.
A pale man in a long, dark coat stepped out from behind the wall. He looked like a reanimated corpse with short, somewhat curly black hair.
“You’re not my daddy,” said Kate. “You’re scary.”
“How old are you, Kate?”
“Seven.” She grabbed her toes, grinned, and rocked. “Today’s my birthday, but the cake tried to eat me.”
The female officer whistled.
“Do you understand what happened?” asked the man. “Do you understand why you are here?”
Kate twirled her hair around a finger. “You kidnapped me?”
“No.”
She looked up. “Am I in a hospital?”
The man didn’t move or change the inflection of his voice. “No. I’m Lieutenant Commander Ashford. You are being held for observation. You’re not a child, Kate.”
She squinted at him, giving him a raspberry. At a tingle in the front of her brain, she went cross-eyed. “That feels icky.”
The nightmare rewound, though to her waking mind, it looked more like a bad cartoon than anything scary. The faceless father became Archon. She looked down at her obvious breasts. A churn of nausea rumbled in her gut at the disconnect between what she believed and what her eyes told her. Feeling lightheaded, she moaned.
Angel Descended (The Awakened Book 6) Page 48
