by K. L. Lewis
As Fara’s group below bounded over the rubble to the staircase, kept at bay by the gang’s shots, Yue made her way over and waved DeMarcus as she reached the end. “Come on!”
Looking down to the floor below and steeling himself as he looked ahead, DeMarcus stepped on the narrow beam and balanced along the way. The others kept the militants behind their cover as he neared the end, but he flinched from a bullet scratching across his arm, and twisted and wobbled on the beam. He regained his balance, only for his stomach to jump as the beam began to crack. Yue caught him just as the beam broke below his feet, and he held on for dear life as he hung in her grip at the edge.
“Hang…on…!” Yue groaned as her grip tightened and she slowly pulled him up.
A militant rushed the bridge and leapt over the gap, firing down at the gang and hitting Yue in the other shoulder. Her body started to dip, and she and DeMarcus went sliding from the edge and falling onto the slanting debris where they tumbled onto the floor below. Dust plumed from the ground as DeMarcus landed over Yue’s stomach. He rose to his feet, coughing and panting as he examined the small room they landed in. At least they were still alive.
He checked on his sister. “You okay?”
Yue groaned, rubbing her stomach. “I broke your fall. What do you think?”
A militant landed before them, their gun leveled at DeMarcus’s head. DeMarcus pointed his gun back, only for it to click empty at the squeeze of the trigger. He and Yue raised their hands as the militant stepped toward them. “It’s over,” the militant said.
BANG!
The militant dropped to the ground, leaving DeMarcus and Yue confused until they looked up and saw Sarah pointing her pistol at the militant. “Thanks,” DeMarcus said.
“Don’t mention it,” said Sarah.
She ducked back in cover as another shot flew across the gap, followed by two grenades flying from the gang to the other side. An explosion popped, then a cloud of smoke spewed from the side where the militants took cover. In the brief pause, DeMarcus took the fallen militant’s rifle away while Yue looted them for ammo and slid a few clips toward him.
Tyrone peeked down at them. “Think you guys can find a way out?”
DeMarcus looked around the room, seeing the stairs up blocked off, leaving their only path downstairs back toward the militants. “No luck,” he said. “Just go get help. We’ll figure something out.”
“I will,” Ty assured. “Just hang in there!”
Voices of the militants grew nearer, and Yue pulled DeMarcus toward the steps downstairs. “Crap! Hurry!”
Their only path home gone, DeMarcus and Yue sprinted downstairs and through the hall, bursting through a door and tumbling into a wide reception hall as gunshots fired over their heads. DeMarcus lifted Yue to her feet and pulled her into the halls, turning the next corner as Fara Torres and two of her troops stormed after them through a hole in the wall. Yue dropped a grenade, blowing up the walls and ceilings behind them. Rifles snarled at them as they went on, with an Amalgam drone flying over them until a stream of their bullets sent it spiraling to the ground.
Entering a large ballroom, they treaded over the piles of concrete crumbling around and avoided the center where a chandelier barely hung from the glass ceiling. They climbed over the collapsed beams and ran under a fractured balcony, scrambling for an exit clear of the mounds of debris. Then a blinding white flash burst in the room, hammering a painful ring in their ears.
A shot nicked DeMarcus in his arm, and when the flash faded, they backed away, guns raised at Fara and two militants entering the room.
Fara brandished her rifle. “So, mind telling me why you two kids were in my base?”
DeMarcus squeezed his trigger, but his rifle clicked empty—right, he forgot to reload. In that split moment, Fara’s militants fired bursts around him and Yue, forcing the two behind the concrete piles. “You know, I’m certain there were five of you,” said Fara.
“Can it!” DeMarcus barked as he reloaded. “We know who you are, Fara Torres.”
Fara faked a gasp. “Really? Can’t say I care who you are.”
“Well, how about THIS!” Yue blindly shot over their pile, hitting the wall behind Fara.
Fara leaned away from the burst. “Are you done?” she asked, pointing her militants to the left and right. “Because you might as well give up and come quietly. You’ve caused enough trouble already.”
“I’ll pass,” DeMarcus spat. “Nearly died from your red-eyed militants two years ago.”
Fara’s eyes squinted. “Red-eyed…those Themiskyrans? Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t send troops to kill some random kid.”
DeMarcus leaned out from the pile. “What about the one you were speaking to on the roofs?” He ducked as Fara’s shots grazed his cover.
“That was one of my own,” Fara answered, slowly approaching him. “You really think I’d be in league with Themiskyra?”
Well that answered that, as disappointing as it was. Now for the big one. “If that’s the case,” DeMarcus continued, “then what are you doing with Red Phoenix?”
A flash grenade landed beside him. DeMarcus pushed Yue toward a pillar on the other end, dodging Fara’s salvo of bullets as the grenade burst into a blinding white light. “That’s none of your business,” Fara fumed. “I’d like to know how you found out about it, but you kids are too young to know what I’m involved in.”
Yue turned to DeMarcus. “What the heck is Red Phoenix?”
Before he spoke, DeMarcus spotted a militant lining a shot behind Yue, and dove toward his sister. “Look out!” he shouted, pushing her away from the shot flying over them.
They tumbled to the ground, and Yue quickly opened fire at the other militant behind him as they crawled amidst the debris toward the damaged staircase behind them. Peeking through the gaps of large rocks and piles, they kept careful watch of the militants searching through the concrete mounds. Reaching the stairs, Yue shot near a militant’s ear on her way up, taking a hit on her leg in return. DeMarcus pulled her along, helping her limp up the steps and dodging the bursts from Fara’s rifle. Reaching the top, he unpinned a flash grenade and tossed it at the center of the room.
Shielding their eyes and ears from the grenade’s burning white light, they ducked to the floor as the militants’ blind gunfire splintered debris into their cheeks. Separating around the balcony, the teens popped over the rails and fired bursts near a militant’s feet, only for DeMarcus to get tagged in the arm from Fara’s shot. It was like a thousand hot needles pricking his arm and numbing it all the way to his shoulder, making his arm heavy to lift.
Ducking back into cover, he fumbled a grenade, his last one, in his numbed hand. Unpinning it with his teeth, he threw it over the edge, then ducked back and listened to Fara and her team scatter away from its loud crack. The feeling in his arm crept back to normal as he watched Yue take aim through a small hole at an isolated militant near the edge of the room. She squeezed the trigger, and the militant fell to the ground as the shot nail their head. Then she dove over to DeMarcus as Fara and her remaining militant returned a stream of bullets at her position.
The faint hum of jet engines sounded over the building, rays of light beaming through the glass where Iuvian Gentilis cawed above. NAF shuttles hovered and bobbed around the windows. About time they came.
With Fara and her militant still spraying a fury of bullets, DeMarcus and Yue blindly fired back from over their cover. A sharp sting hit DeMarcus’s hand, and he rubbed the swollen bruise as the white-hot pain spread to his wrist. He looked up at the chandelier barely dangling from the glass ceiling. He aimed up, his rifle wobbling in his hands as he emptied his remaining ammo at the glass until it cracked. Glittering shards rained down to the floor as the chandelier fell toward Fara, who leapt toward the militant near the edge of the path in the ballroom.
DeMarcus turned to Yue. “You got anymore ammo?”
“Just two left,” she answered.
The wall behind
them pattered from the militants’ barrage. There was a brief pause, then came a distant, rapid pop of gunshots spraying into the room behind Fara. “Enemy at the rear,” Fara shouted as she and her partner retreated behind a concrete slab.
DeMarcus and Yue peeked over the rails at Tyrone bolting inside and pinning down the militants with another spray of bullets. The two popped out of cover and added another spray at the militants, trapping them in the center.
Fara scoffed at Tyrone. “You? And here I thought you were the military.”
“Don’t worry,” said Tyrone. “I made sure they came.”
Fara growled at the light from a Blue Havoc hitting her face. “Forget these kids,” she grumbled to the militant. “We need to leave!”
The militant pointed at their fallen comrade. “But what about him?”
“We’ll rescue him and anyone else later,” said Fara. “Thermoptics on!”
Rapid, heavy steps from NAF and Iuvian soldiers clapped around the building as DeMarcus and his friends kept Fara in their sights. Then they noticed her escort take out a grenade.
“Look out!” Yue shouted.
The three ducked behind the furniture as the escort slammed the grenade on the ground. A bright blue flash filled the room with a thick swirl of grey smoke choking their throats. DeMarcus fanned the smoke away as he searched for Fara, catching a distant glimpse of her rifle pointing at him, followed by a loud crack in the air.
A sharp spike shot through his chest, then his knees collapsed as his body fell numb. The world was fuzzy, and his lungs squeezed tight as he fought to breathe, with the only sound echoing in his ears being the cries of Yue’s voice. “DeMarcus! DEMARCUS!”
Hot and cold flashes surged through his body, his arms and chest squeezing tight before his body went limp and everything went black. He twitched his fingers to show he was alive, feeling Yue shake him awake.
He thought he was dying again, until he woke to Yue and Tyrone worrying over him. His arms and legs wobbled like noodles as he rose to his feet, sparking a smile from Ty and Yue as they helped him up. He rubbed his sore chest while he scanned around for Fara and her escort. They were long gone, except for the groaning militant Yue shot down earlier.
The three looked at each other and smiled. It was finally over.
CHAPTER 30 - LATER?
Rubbing his chest, feeling a large, dark bruise pulsing at the center, DeMarcus was shocked there was no blood. It hurt like hell, but he was still alive, and their worries over—nothing made DeMarcus happier to still be with his friends safe and sound. “How’d you know where we were?” he asked Tyrone.
“I followed the gunshots and explosions,” said Ty. “Wasn’t hard to miss.”
“Good thing you came,” said Yue. “We were down to our last clips.”
That was the least of their concerns as a Gentili cawed and fluttered down to one of the broken pillars, staring down at them with its bright red eyes. Crashing down from the roofs and pouring through the doors, Iuvian and NAF soldiers raised their guns at the three who dropped their weapons and held their hands up. They tensed as an NAF soldier approached them. “Echo-Four to Crown-One, we’ve found three children inside,” she said on her radio before turning to the stunned Amalgam militant at the edge of the room. “…and one militant down. Over.”
Keith’s voice sounded over her radio. “Roger that, bring the kids to me. They’ve had it rough as it is. Crown-One out.”
The soldier pointed the three towards the door and led them outside where soldiers scouted around. Waiting next to one of the landed shuttles was Keith, smirking at the three’s arrival. “You three look a hot mess! Thank goodness you’re alive.”
“I just wanna go home,” said DeMarcus.
“Grandpa, Mitch and Sarah are still waiting for us out in the city,” said Tyrone.
“Hop on and we’ll go get ‘em,” said Keith.
While Tyrone and Yue entered the shuttle, DeMarcus walked to Keith and handed him the case of the Red Phoenix vials. “I found this in some underground base.”
DeMarcus thought Keith would be happy as he looked inside the case, but his scowl was like a dagger to his chest as he looked back at him. “You nearly risked your life for this?” Keith asked.
“I discovered it by accident,” said DeMarcus.
Keith exhaled and shook his head. “DeMarcus, you didn’t have to do this. You shouldn’t have. That was dangerous!”
DeMarcus shrugged. He was only trying to help. “I couldn’t just leave it there.”
Keith sighed, then a faint smile grew on his face. “Well, thanks. This does mean a lot. But you still have to face your folks back at home, and they’re not too happy.”
DeMarcus gulped and entered the shuttle. He shuttered at the thought of what Shen and Jiao would say. As the shuttle rose into the air, and soared over the ruins towards the city, he wondered how to explain everything that happened. There was no hiding it given the news trucks and airships below gathering around the soldiers blockading the streets to the ruins, so there was no choice other than to tell them the whole truth.
Tyrone’s OmniMorph buzzed, and Sarah’s face appeared on his display. “Hey, where are you guys?” he asked.
“Outside of the crowd near the corner,” Sarah answered. “Where are you?”
“In a shuttle over the city,” Tyrone turned to Keith. “Where do you wanna meet them?”
Keith looked over his shoulder at his OmniMorph. “Head to the Rula, Sarah. We’ll meet by the parking lot and pick you up there.”
“Okay,” said Sarah. “See you soon.”
Soon. Yeah, soon they’ll hear their parents on their asses about today. DeMarcus slumped in his seat and drifted into a nap after Sarah and Mitch got onboard. He wanted this long day to end. But when the shuttle touched down in their neighborhood and Tyrone shook him awake, he knew the night was just beginning as the shuttle doors opened and they stepped out into the streets.
All over their parents were there waiting, the Suns, the Iyrons, the Shoas, and the Tovars. The adults were relieved they were alive, but their attitudes soon shifted to a cold stare. “Where in the world were you all?” Shen scolded.
“In…the ruins?” Yue chuckled.
“And what were you doing there?” Alisha demanded. “You all know better with those Monumans still around.”
“We didn’t go there on purpose!” said Tyrone.
“Then how did you get there?” Jiao asked.
“We were getting snacks from a store and fell into a secret passage that trapped us underground,” DeMarcus explained. “The only other way out was into the ruins, and we had to fight off the Amalgam Concord until…Keith saved us?” He sunk his chin towards his chest as the adults glared at him, unconvinced by the story. And the weird look Keith gave him made him realize how ridiculous he sounded.
“It’s true!” said Mitch.
“That’s enough, Mitch,” barked Mr. Shoa. “You’re all in enough trouble as it is.”
“Well, actually,” Keith interjected.
James sighed. “Dad, don’t tell me you’re covering for them?”
“I know it sounded screwy, but it’s the truth,” said Keith. “Matter of fact, we found the hideout and have several of those militants in custody that these kids took out. Why would I lie about something like this? Why would they? They’ve seen the news. They know better than to walk into a death pit.”
The puzzled adults looked at each other, faces paused over the truth. With Keith vouching for them, DeMarcus was confident they’d believe him. “Okay then,” Jiao relented. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“I wanna see for myself,” said James, getting onboard the shuttle.
“Oh, don’t worry, son. You’ll get your proof,” said Keith.
The parents took the gang home for a long hot shower and dinner. Alisha came to check on each one of their injuries before they slept. There was little blood was spilled, mostly just bruises, and DeMarcus’s injuries were nearly
healed compared to the still fresh ones his friends had—his blood’s nanostrain saved him once again. At school the next morning, the other students stared at their cuts and bruises as they walked through the halls. Jasmine worried as she asked Tyrone what happened. “We all had a terrible night,” he answered dryly.
DeMarcus thought that was an understatement. And when Jasmine asked him, he told her the same thing. “Trust me, you really don’t want to know.”
Then again, he was one to talk. He found out that his attackers were from Themiskyra, just like the ones who saved him back in the British Isles. But he still didn’t know why they attacked him, much less want they wanted with Red Phoenix. And how did Fara Torres get it?
As he pondered over it during lounge hour, he and his friends gave Rafeal and his cronies dead, eerie stares that spooked them away. Or was it Yue’s angry scowl that did that? Either way, the fear on Rafeal’s group made Crystal and her girls look at the gang in wonder before minding their business. And when school ended, and DeMarcus saw Crystal’s coy smile at him yet again, he merely gave her a dull wave as he passed Rafeal like he wasn’t there.
He heard Rafeal mention him to Crystal, “What the hell’s that runt’s problem?”
A terrible night, that’s what. One he was glad to survive in this chaotic new life.
In the ruins, Fara Torres and her militants regrouped inside an old, rusted warehouse near the river as their submersible transports rose from the waters and docked inside. With the NAF and Iuvia having raided their headquarters, they lost a lot of their equipment. But most of it was old HDF junk anyway. She was more concerned with her militants that were captured.
Lucas directed the remaining militants, leaving Fara in private as she saluted the grey projections of her superiors, tensing for their reproach. “My, this is an embarrassing report,” said Cobalt. “So a group of five children stumbled into your base, and held you off until the military rescued them?”
Not a pleasant reminder for Fara either. “Yes, ma’am.”
“How…does that happen?” Copper questioned. “An absent guard is one thing, but kids—
