“Thank you,” she typed.
“Good luck.”
The chat window disappeared, as did the app, just as it did every day.
Selene turned back to the window, and stepped up to the hole, not daring to take another look down. Wind whipping against her face, and half breathless, Selene crawled onto the glass, and without another thought, she leapt.
Wind tore at her clothes and body as she fell. Her stomach flew into her throat and her eyes burned with the cold air.
One…
She counted, her heart racing with the thought of what might happen if she didn’t pull the cord in time.
Two…
She should just pull it now.
Three…
The ground was coming up damn fast.
Four…
She wasn’t waiting for five.
Yanking the red cord as hard as she could, the backpack burst open, and her entire body jerked upward, pulling a surprised yelp from her throat.
Her shoulders ached from the motion, but the parachute expanded wide and caught the air, slowing her descent before she had fallen halfway down the skyscraper.
Grabbing for the other two straps at her shoulders, Selene took the handles, gently tugging on them to manoeuvre her descent. She moved left and right, floating by the neon signs that had always glared at her from Pate’s penthouse.
A grin spread on her face. Holy crap. She was free.
Throwing her head back, Selene laughed as she floated ever closer to the ground. She was free and she had no idea who had helped her, but whoever they were, Selene owed a debt she might never be able to repay.
She squeezed her eyes shut, overcome with gratitude. Thank you.
Her descent slowed as she banked around the other skyscrapers and finally hit ground.
Her legs wobbled beneath her, mostly from sheer excitement. The parachute deflated and fell against the sidewalk, long cords keeping it attached to her back. Selene quickly unclipped herself and assessed the street. It was a barren night in New Manhattan.
Glancing back up at the skyscraper she’d been forced to call home, she realized all the lights in the upper half of the building were shut off. It was almost as dark as the night sky.
Selene turned away. She might be out of there, but she wasn’t out of the woods just yet. The power wouldn’t stay off forever, and when it inevitably came back on, they’d realize she was missing. Selene had no doubt Pate’s security team would be out in full force looking for her.
She shivered as a cold breeze brushed her bare legs. Right. She also needed some proper clothes, and some shoes wouldn’t hurt either.
Instinctively she reached for her hip. A gun would be nice too.
With one last glance back at what had been her own personal hell for the last few weeks, Selene turned back down the street and ran.
Damn it, she needed a plan.
Selene heaved in each breath as she leaned against an alley wall at least twenty blocks from Pate’s penthouse. Her chest burned and her head swam. She wasn’t used to running in her new clone body, and it definitely wasn’t up to par. Though she could work out like any normal person, it’d take time to get her strength and speed up. Time she didn’t have.
Right now she needed a game plan.
Her mind raced with ideas. For one, she needed a ride. A speeder, a cruiser, whatever she could get her hands on. Before she got that though, some clothes and a gun would be nice. If she had those things, she might be able to steal a ride out from under someone. She’d run across a few civilians on her brisk run, so people were still outside. She just needed to find one with a speeder.
Selene leaned her head back against the alley wall. The cold from the cement seeped through her thin clothes, cooling her hot skin.
How was she supposed to get clothes in the middle of the business district? There were shops, but they all had heavy security systems. She couldn’t break the glass without triggering an alarm.
Think Selene.
She gripped her hair.
What did she know about New Manhattan? Where could she go?
Selene froze. Where had she been the last time she was in the city? After the election and the devastating loss of Sarah, she’d run with Rikkard and Sav right to a pub.
Zhao’s sketchy as hell bar. That’s where she could go.
Boy, would he not be excited to see her.
As the streets of New Manhattan grew seedier and seedier, Selene knew she was getting close. Though dirt didn’t cover the streets because of the disk cleaners constantly darting across the surface, the buildings did grow darker, smaller, and less well kept. She’d left behind the glorious metal titans of downtown, and in their place were buildings made of brick, cement, and plaster.
Selene crept through shadows, taking mostly alleys and a few deserted streets when she had no other choice. One with the night, she dodged street urchins, drug dealers, and mobsters prowling the bars and restaurants. Music pumped and vibrated through the walls of one converted warehouse as she passed. Cigarette smoke filled her nose, and she coughed as she turned the corner, covering her mouth until she crossed the street.
A couple streets over, Selene stopped at a corner. Across the street was a familiar dimly lit back alley. Silver trashcans were piled beside a metal door, propped open by a plastic crate of bricks.
She raised an eyebrow and shook her head. The street was empty, but the distant thump of music and bar chatter told her Zhao’s place was still open.
Slipping across the street and through the open back door, Selene straightened her shoulders, and smoothed her wind-whipped hair. She did her best to appear threatening, though she doubted anyone would take her seriously in skimpy white shorts and a tank top.
That’s fine, she told herself. You can still kick ass if you need to.
Selene sighed and continued down the grungy hallway until she reached the back of the bar, where bottles upon bottles of illicit substances were shelved behind a long slab of wood. A pink-haired bartender bustled left and right, grabbing bottles and glasses, filling them and sliding them down the bar with an expertise only someone who’d done the job for a long time would have.
“You again!”
Selene turned to find a plump old clone staring at her from the other end of the hall, a half burned cigarette hanging out of his mouth. His wide, terrified eyes glazed over, his skin going slightly green.
Selene smirked. “Me again.” She moved away from the bar, towards the back room where Zhao held his own personal gambling ring.
“What the hell do you want?” he growled, and reached behind him.
Her gaze darted to his hand, and then back to his face. She narrowed her eyes, and Zhao gulped audibly before splaying his hands at his sides.
“A favor,” she said, stepping closer.
“A favor?” He barked a laugh. “Last time you and your buddies stumbled through my bar you caused an all-out brawl. I had four bodies to take care of. Four! Do you know how hard that is to do on a Friday night when the place is packed?” His cheeks reddened and his eyes bulged.
Selene shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. All I need from you is a gun, and a ride.”
Zhao narrowed his eyes. “Why should I do you any favors?”
Selene paused, cocking her head. She hadn’t thought that over. Why would he do her any favors? She had had a part in trashing his bar, killing a few people, and probably getting city patrol on his ass. What could she offer him that would make him change his mind?
Shifting from foot to foot, Selene smiled as she realized the one thing she could offer him. “I know!” She flashed her teeth. “Help me, and you’ll never have to see me again.”
Zhao froze, and looked everywhere but at her while he mulled this over. Finally, his jaw set and he nodded sternly. “Deal.”
Selene bit her lip to hold back a laugh. She held out her hand, and Zhao finally stepped close enough to shake it.
“Let’s get you the hell out of my bar,” he
said.
“Sounds good to me.”
Zhao turned back the way he’d come, and motioned for her to follow. He trudged into the only other room she’d been in, and Selene followed. This time when she entered, there was no gambling ring, no sketchy bunch of guys seated at a table, howling over some tiny alien creatures forced to entertain them. Instead, a gorgeous woman sat on Zhao’s couch, a cigarette burning between her thick, dark lips, and a mane of tight black curls spilling over her shoulders.
The woman looked up upon their entrance and raised an eyebrow at Selene. Her gaze trailed Selene from head to toe, pausing at her bare feet.
“What’s up, dad?” she asked.
Dad? Selene looked wide-eyed between the two. There was no way this beautiful woman was Zhao’s daughter. But when she looked between them again, they did have a few similarities. Slightly hooded, dark brown eyes—a bit narrower than Selene’s own—small, perky noses, and the same shade of black hair.
She must have gotten all of her other traits from her mother: bronze skin, a wide mouth and curves most women would kill for.
“It’s nothing, Elfie. Don’t worry about it.” Zhao made a dismissive motion as he headed to the back wall, where there was a long dresser propped up by bricks.
“Dad,” the woman complained. “Not in front of strangers.”
Zhao just shook his head while the dark-haired beauty stood and held out her hand for Selene to shake.
“Call me Ambriss.” She glared at Zhao over her shoulder and tucked her hair behind her ear with her other hand.
Selene shook her hand. With her hair tucked behind her ear, Selene suddenly understood why Zhao called his daughter Elfie. Her ears were slightly larger than normal, the tips pointed like some kind of fairy tale creature. Selene hid her smile with her hand. “I’m Selene.”
Ambriss nodded and took her hand back. “Good to meet you.”
Zhao shuffled through the contents of his dresser until he finally pulled a black pistol from within. “Ah ha!” Next he retrieved an old piece of once blue indented plastic from his pocket, a silver keychain dangling on the end. “And here’s the key to my speeder.” He turned back around to hand her both.
Selene sighed in relief. “Thanks, Zhao.”
The barkeep handed her the gun and keys, before pausing to look at her outfit as if he hadn’t noticed it before. “What in Aldar are you wearing?”
Selene looked down. “Don’t ask. Long story.”
“Where do you plan on going dressed like that?” Ambriss asked, again assessing Selene’s wardrobe.
“Uhh.” Selene paused. Where did she plan on searching for the smugglers? “Bakura?”
Ambriss’ eyes widened. “The black market?”
Selene glanced at Zhao, not following Ambriss’ line of questioning. “Yeah?”
“You can’t go to fucking Bakura dressed like that.” The woman motioned at her clothes and shook her head before wandering over to the same dresser her father stood beside. She yanked open the bottom drawer and pulled out a pair of leather pants, a leather jacket, and a black top with fishnet lining the neck to chest area. “Here.” She thrust the clothes toward Selene.
“Uhh…” Selene took them, confusion wrinkling her brow. “Thank you?”
“No problem.” Ambriss grabbed a pair of combat boots from the other side of the dresser. “Take these too.”
“Thanks.” Selene took them. With her arms full, she glanced at the two, waiting for them to turn around so she could change, or point her in the direction of a bathroom she could use.
“Dad, turn around.” Ambriss rolled her eyes.
Zhao cleared his throat. “Right.” He spun around and faced the door, while Selene quickly undressed and redressed in Ambriss’ clothes.
The pants were snug, and the shirt not even close to her style, showing off half of her midriff, but the jacket was comfortable, and did make her look badass.
“How do I look?” Selene grinned.
Ambriss turned back around and smiled. “Like a lowlife. Perfect.”
She’d take it. “Good enough,” Selene said. She tucked the gun into the waistband of her pants before taking the keys to her new speeder.
“One more thing before I go,” Selene began.
Zhao groaned and tipped his head back. “What now?”
“When is the last time you saw Sav and Rikkard?” Her gut twisted. She was afraid of what his answer might be, but she needed to know. Had either of them escaped the Dominion?
Zhao’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “Not since I saw you last, tearing up my back room.”
Selene bit her lip. Her heart sank. “Thanks anyway.”
“I’ll take you to his speeder.” Ambriss motioned at the back door.
“Thanks.”
Selene said goodbye to Zhao, again promising she’d never be back, then followed Ambriss down a grungy hall and out into the back alley. Instead of the trash-strewn alley she expected, it was actually taken care of. A big improvement from last time.
An old speeder leaned against a chain link fence on the other side of the alley, a curved plastic windshield on front, and the rest of it dusty gray metal, curved to be large in front, and smaller in the back. It’d be good enough for the distance she had to travel.
“Here it is,” Ambriss said. “Can I ask why the sudden appearance, weird get up, and need to get to Bakura, of all places?”
Selene laughed. “Honestly, I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.” Leaning the speeder away from the fence, Selene hopped on and stuck the key in the ignition. Blue lines raced throughout the metal, and the machine hummed beneath her thighs. “It’s too long a story for now anyway. I’ve got to go.” She looked up at Ambriss, and the woman nodded.
“All right, but if you do ever come back, this is a story I might like to hear.” Ambriss winked, and stepped back to give her some room to kick off.
Selene smiled. “I’ll buy you a drink some time.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Ambriss matched her grin and waved as Selene put the speeder in drive and took off out of the alley.
She banked left onto the street, heading for the Outskirts. The metal warmed beneath her body heat, the ribbed plastic of the steering handles quickly giving up their cold.
In just a few hours she’d arrive at Bakura, where she was sure to find whatever remained of her crew. Her stomach flipped as she thought of the last time she’d seen Rik.
Selene had been lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood while Dominion soldiers pulled Rik away. Could he have found a way to escape? Did Kayl try to redeem himself and set Rikkard free?
She shook her head, and narrowed her eyes into the wind, lowering herself so her head was just below the curved visor.
If the smuggling crew was anywhere, it was Bakura. Though no one said it, Bakura was like a secondary home base—a spot to meet up when they got separated or in trouble. Though it was one of the most dangerous places in the United Americas, it was the one place Selene had the fondest of memories.
Her fingers tightened on the handles, pushing the speeder faster. Even if Rik hadn’t made it out, Rem, Darius, and the others hadn’t been on the ship. They might have realized the plan went south early enough to avoid the old cargo ship, and if they did, that meant they were out there somewhere, probably thinking the rest of them were dead.
Selene shook her head. It was time for a reunion. She couldn’t wait to see her crew again.
The metal behemoth that was Bakura dipped into the sand dunes many miles passed the Outskirts of New Manhattan. Hours flew by as Selene imagined every worst-case scenario.
What if the entire crew was dead? What if Bakura had been raided and shut down in the last two weeks?
Though both possibilities seemed unlikely, so did her being some kind of genetically altered human—that is until she wound up in a lab where her suspicions were confirmed. Her life wasn’t exactly lacking impossibilities, but all the same, she hoped she could trust B
akura to be the sort-of-safe place she could count on.
Riding up over the dunes as the sun crested behind the old navy ship, Selene pulled up on the handlebars, urging the speeder away from the sand and up into the air. She flipped the switch beside the ignition, and the hoverplates went into overdrive, pushing her up and up until she reached the deck of Bakura where dozens of far nicer, and far shittier speeders were lined up.
Selene flipped off the power and pulled the keys from the ignition. Her heart thudded faster as she glanced at the large iron door carved from the side of the metal heap.
While taming her windswept hair, Selene dismounted the speeder and adjusted her jacket, getting another good look at her strange fishnet top, and tight leather pants. Though she was used to wearing a skin tight, full-body black suit, this was somehow more embarrassing. At least in her suit, her midriff wasn’t showing and her tits weren’t nearly exposed.
She cleared her throat and checked the gun in the back of her pants. It was still held firm by her belt, and not at a bad spot in case she needed to draw it quickly.
All right, Selene. Let’s do this.
Taking a deep breath, Selene walked passed the smokers, getting a lungful of cancer and a few leers along the way. She stepped into the darkness of the black market, the grated catwalk strung above, absent loiterers. It was the perfect way to check out the market below, just in case one of the crew lurked nearby.
Her pulse pounded hard, and she wiped her clammy hands on her pants. Why was she so nervous to see the smugglers again?
Selene shook her head. No, that wasn’t it. She wasn’t nervous to see them; she was scared she wouldn’t find them. She was horrified knowing they might all have died two weeks ago and she’d never been told. What would she do without them? They were her family.
A loud bang broke through her thoughts, and she stepped out onto the catwalk. Calm the fuck down, Selene. She took a deep breath and forced herself to focus. Her gaze roamed the crowd of criminals: slave traders proudly displaying their stock, drug slingers thrusting the ‘next big thing’ into the hands of potential customers, and arms dealers toting their wares.
The Zahkx Alliance: A Sci-Fi Dystopian Adventure (Dominion Rising Book 2) Page 4
