Illusionary

by LeAnn Mason

  You scared me, he said as he gently brushed his knuckles across my unblemished cheek. Everything about Holden had me entranced. His face was so earnest, his brows pinched in remembrance, seeing me unconscious on the floor. His full lips were pursed and strong, angular jaw clenched, making the muscle in his cheek jump. He had felt so helpless, not able to voice any assistance to the team. We couldn’t do this now, we had to focus elsewhere.

  "It's not your fault, Holden," I assured him. "I knew the risks of this job, remember?" I gave a little shrug. "This was a good experience to serve as a reminder that even Sages can pack a punch." I rubbed my cheek again and noticed the gash was smaller. I held my hand over the wound and darted my eyes back to Holden, then Jade hovering nearby, wondering if they had noticed.

  Holden wrapped strong fingers around my wrist, gently pulling the hand away from my face, all while keeping his silver orbs locked on my blue-greens. My eyebrows scrunched upward, and my breathing quickened. Please don't notice.

  It's smaller, cleaner…Now his brows furrowed, his eyes jumping from my cheek to my eyes and back. How?

  "Don't say anything, please!" I whispered vehemently. I was becoming frantic, my heart hammering in my chest. I scanned for an escape through the now organized chaos where I could avoid the scrutiny, the questions.

  Holden's warm hand once again cradled my cheek, stilling me. I won't ask now. It is not the time, but I hope you'll tell me when things calm down. He tried conveying his sincerity, his understanding, through his depthless eyes. I stared back and nodded mutely, worry still rampant in my thoughts, and I'm sure, across my face. And just like that Holden dropped it.

  We moved quickly to the squad's mass transport vehicle, Jade ahead of us, continually looking over her shoulder as we hurried along. The van contained the rest of the team who were waiting impatiently for us to get in. Jade beat us and scrambled into the seat farthest to the rear. Holden stepped into the van and ducked inside, never once seeming uncomfortable with my weight as he set me gently on the far side of the bench seat. I blushed at the realization that I hadn't even struggled or protested the infirm treatment.

  The moment Holden closed the door Devlin spun the tires in his haste to get moving. It was about this time that I realized the vehicle was equipped with flashing lights and wailing siren, thus marking it as an enforcement vehicle. How had I not known that before now?

  We blew through traffic lights and stop signs like they didn't apply to us, making a few other cars swerve out of our way or lay on their horn. It didn't matter to some that we were chasing a dangerous man, we were just enforcers and thus inferior to them. I would bet all kinds of money that those folks were all Sages.

  "Where are we going?" I asked dumbly as I finally registered that we were heading out of town. The van's jostling becoming more pronounced, more frequent. Every few moments, Devlin would slow and Dane would stick his head out the window and inhale deeply, much like a dog, then nod and we would continue onward. At one such slowing, I realized there was another vehicle trailing us, the uniformed enforcers made it out of the restaurant, and apparently they didn’t want to be left out.

  Dane's tracking him. His trail is leading toward the checkpoint. Holden nodded his chin to the windshield of the van; beyond, I could see the razor-wire topped wall looming in the distance.

  "Well, that can't be good."

  CHAPTER 24

  WE CREPT UP TO another vehicle that appeared to have been stopped just before the gates. The older truck Holden and I had been driving earlier in the day, in fact, was idling about thirty feet from the gated checkpoint like a suicide bomber biding its time for destruction. If he was still in the vehicle and the patrol hadn't fired on him, he hadn't done anything threatening. Yet.

  I had witnessed what happened when he had time to formulate an illusion, and when he panicked. Did he have enough time to pull one together? We were about to find out. Devlin brought the van to a halt, turning it sideways across the road, with the nose facing left, putting Dane and Holden closest to the target. But I was right behind them.

  We were more than twenty feet from the vehicle, so I couldn't read anything from it, the patrolling soldiers along the wall, even further away, were a definite no go. The sound of screeching tires drew attention to the fact that the uniformed Enforcers had caught up and were now another unknown to deal with.

  "What's the plan guys?" Jade asked, taking the words from my mouth. She seemed calmer now, more determined. Feeding off our seasoned enforcers’ adrenaline, maybe?

  All the Primals were completely zeroed in on the vehicle ahead of us, sweeping their focus across all our potential foes, there were many. Devlin, being our stealth and tactics guy was not happy about our being out in the open with so much uncertainty. He was scanning for the best places to hole up, places we should get to before things went bad, lower our risks.

  "Stay sharp, keep your wits." It didn't take a genius to know that Devlin was only addressing the Sages in the vehicle, though now was not the time to spark an argument.

  Of course, Steve had to give him one anyway, smarting off about how we Sages have the brains to think, unlike Primals. Devlin turned an absolutely lethal gaze to him, letting a deep and utterly terrifying sound rumble from his chest. If I hadn't been staring directly at him, I would have sworn the sound had come from some sort of wild animal, the kind we didn't actually have in Minefield. Luckily the effect was enough to shut Steve up, though his mental obnoxiousness continued.

  I reached back and popped him upside the head. I was on the receiving end of a decent death glare for it but didn't care. I wasn't in the mood for his superiority complex to bear its ugly face. The van fell silent as we all surveyed the area as well as the situation.

  "I would say that our best bet is to rush him before he has time to implement an illusion against us involving those weapons," Devlin jerked his chin toward the guards who each had large semi-automatic weapons within their grasp, "but we've seen what he does when panicked. Imagine what those guards will do when they are."

  I scanned the area as Devlin talked out his thought process. There wasn't much around, save for the guard shack, the guards themselves. Their vehicles, a whole lot of reinforcements and an accompanying military base all sprawled in the distance on the far side, even our illusionist wasn’t dense enough to attempt to actually get through the gates. The Enforcers behind us were getting antsy. They would be a liability; apparently, patrol units weren’t nearly as well trained as the Primals on our team.

  This area was all farmland, the space we termed "the fields." It was where most of our staples were grown and harvested. It also employed a large number of Primals. On the other side of the wall, the railroad tracks were the only sign of human life within the immediate area. The train rumbled through once a week and only delivered goods to Minefield once a month.

  The shack was out of the question as it was too far to reach, much closer to the target as well as the patrol, which could turn on us in a split second without warning. The surrounding fields were dense with corn stalks, it would make good cover if nothing else, but we still needed to formulate a plan to neutralize the threat of the illusionary.

  Between us, we could read his mind, change our appearance, read and possibly change his mood, track him, stop him from moving and sneak up on him. Except we couldn't. Because we were in plain view at this point and he had to know we were here. There would be no getting close to him.

  The town enforcers tagging along on the chase suddenly pushed open the doors of their vehicle, attention tunneled in on the truck stalled in front of the gates, weapons out. The action was apparently a go signal for the illusionist who yelled, "We want out! We're willing to go through you to do it!" He exited the truck making a beeline for the tall concealing plants lining the roadway.

  Well crap, I don’t know what the illusionist was making them see but it didn’t take a genius to know that it put us in the line of fire. Not sure why the bad guy said “we.” The border p
atrol could forcibly stop anyone from leaving Minefield if they did not have the approval to do so, which we didn't, so our being here in itself would make the soldiers… twitchy. We needed to keep the uniformed officers from seeming to rush the exit.

  The man hadn't run toward the gate, instead choosing the dense cornfield lining the road. He could blank the stationed guards’ vision in a pinch but what good would that do him? Even if he made it past the barrier, there was nowhere to go. Nowhere without putting significant risk to his life, having no access to food, water, or shelter for over a hundred miles in any direction, save for the military installment.

  The armed base’s sole purpose was keeping us contained. The only way one might squeak by was if it was timed perfectly with the supply train’s stop, which it hadn’t. The fact that the soldiers didn’t track his mad dash, but kept their attention–and guns– trained on all the enforcers, made it clear he was pushing an illusion.

  The guards were now on the defensive.

  Devlin swore and rolled down his window a few inches, only enough so that he could be heard without completely losing the extra barrier. “Officers, get back to your vehicle and head back to town. You’re not prepared for this fight.”

  The uniformed enforcers had emerged, tracking our suspect with raised weapons and cautious steps. They moved forward, coming up the side of the van, at least they were aware enough to use our vehicle for cover. Devlin’s warning went unheeded. There wasn’t much more we could do without inviting hostilities.

  We may need to let him go for today, Holden intoned. His thought was valid. There were too many variables. The target was out of my mental range as were the soldiers at the crossover, so I didn't know to what end the soldiers were being manipulated, and if they perceived us as a threat.

  "Our best course may just be to concede and regroup. Like I advised our arrogant comrades out there," Devlin mused and tilted his head to indicate the two men still glued to the van’s hull. “If they stay there, I can use the van to give them cover to get back to their unit.”

  That was apparently not in the cards because no sooner had he finished speaking than the uniforms made their move. And all hell broke loose. The rapid pop, pop, pop was instantly followed by the shriek of glass shattering as a rear window of our van blew in from gunfire. “Everyone down!” Dane boomed as he launched himself toward Jade and the back of the van, pushing on Holden and myself in his haste.

  Devlin tried to get us out of there, but the van sat sideways in the middle of the road, perpendicular to the guards and they had a perfect target. The patrol officers who had been rushing the suspect’s vehicle now had nowhere to go. I watched in dawning horror as first one and then the other jerked from impact, more than once, and fell to the road.

  Red puddles amassed on the pavement where they lay, their eyes pleading, limbs twitching. My throat closed as I realized we couldn’t get to them without risking more of us. Their only hope would be for us to draw fire, and end this quickly. If we called for backup, there would be more of a threat. No one could come to our aid, but maybe we could get a cease-fire called if we could contact Commander James.

  We all ducked toward the floor as the van continued to be pelted with bullets, the sound near deafening as the small metal projectiles bit into the steel hide of our enclosure and windows shattered, littering the floor. Our prone bodies sparkled like make-believe creatures I'd read about, not one of us without glass fragments covering our backs.

  “Can we get the commander to call the soldiers? Let them know the situation?” I screeched shakily, my face buried in the floor, arms shielding my head and ears. Holden seemed to be doing his best to mimic a human shield, laying most of his large, muscled body atop me. Much as Dane had attempted for Jade. Poor Steve was left to fend for himself.

  The van listed heavily to the right, both tires punctured on that side. Devlin floored the now crippled van straight toward the cornfield now directly in front of our vehicle and lurched us into its green depths, the only place that would give us any chance at all to flee the vehicle without bullet holes adorning our bodies. The van was too destroyed to get far, so Devlin guided it as best he could while directing us as well. I vaguely heard Dane relaying info to whom I assumed to be Commander James.

  "We need to stay together, these stalks are thick and we could easily get separated. Dane, you need to be point. I need you to track the asshole so we can stop this. Holden, can you bring up the rear?" Holden nodded his agreement, which was apparently the bailout signal. Devlin, Dane and Holden all thrust open doors and jumped out with weapons raised. Where did Holden get his gun?

  There probably was a small arsenal in the back of the van. No telling what the commander had thrown in. We trainees weren't given weapons yet, we hadn't even touched them, so I was glad someone would possibly be able to counter the aggressiveness of the checkpoint soldiers.

  We moved to meet on the left side of the van, furthest from our assailants, and allowed for the van to act as a barrier. I never thought I would be so happy to have an older clunker of a vehicle surround me. The only reason we weren’t hurt by the bullets was that the van's hide was steel. The only reason it was steel? It was ancient, built before the advent and use of carbon fiber and plastics' extensive use in modern vehicles, and thank God for that. But not having bullet holes didn’t mean we had escaped completely unscathed. Each of us now sported a new and wide variety of tiny cuts, thanks to all the window glass we maneuvered over to depart the vehicle.

  As I had the thought, I felt the tiny fissures begin to knit themselves together, making my skin the unblemished canvas I’d come to know. My only saving grace was that no-one’s attention was on me and that the blood remained, staining my flesh, or I’d be hiding from more people than the soldiers who currently dogged our steps.

  The cornstalks squeezed in on us as we stood in silence attempting to read the situation by sound alone. We needed to move. They would come to investigate the van soon, at least some of them. They wouldn't leave the gate unguarded, especially with the perceived threat. And I’d bet money that reinforcements had been called. Damned ninnies. Shoot first and ask questions later seemed to be an acceptable practice here at the gate. Heaven forbid the screwed-up people make it out into the actual world.

  Dane's voice snapped my attention to the very real situation in which I currently found myself. "There are two walking toward us," he closed his eyes and after a moment took a deep inhale. "The subject is trying to make it back to the truck. His scent is fearful but moving."

  The mental planning that the experienced Enforcers ran through was dizzying. Their minds buzzed with so many things I had never considered, the consensus being to move forward without detection. If we could angle toward the illusionist in a direct line and surprise him, we could likely end this fairly quickly, but the dense vegetation that surrounded us, nearly to the point of claustrophobia, would make that difficult.

  "Surrender!" a voice commanded. Way closer than any had before, the border guards now nearly upon the van. We needed to move. Now.

  "I'll maneuver us into his line, hopefully," Dane intoned.

  "Hopefully?" I asked, disbelieving.

  He flung an arm out, waving his hand about to indicate the encroaching green stalks, "These have a pretty intense scent of their own," he explained. “I can tell if his scent gets stronger and the general location…" he shrugged helplessly, "it probably won't be perfect."

  The silk of the corn heads tickled my exposed skin and tangled in my hair like grasping fingers, as leaves brushed against me from another angle, the sensations nearly overloading my already adrenaline-ridden system. My head screamed from the mental intensity I was amid. If only I could hear anyone else, we would know the state of things. But no, we were isolated in a cornfield amidst acres and acres of the imposing plants. Jade, Steve, and I were nearly swallowed by the tall stalks. We would be lost easily if we were separated. I was now able to read the two soldiers who approached us: shoot to kill. A
pparently, they weren't interested in capture.

  We were out of time.

  CHAPTER 25

  I COULDN’T LET US sit around while we were stalked and the offender worked his way to a viable escape. We needed to end this, one way or another.

  "The two mobile guards are almost on us. We need to move. Now," I whispered harshly.

  Everyone nodded once, almost like it was choreographed, and we slowly but steadily moved in the direction we assumed the wall to be. All the while, trying to employ the stealth Dane and Devlin had drilled into us for weeks.

  Dane took point, Devlin behind him, then Jade, Steve, and me. Holden pressed to my back, bringing up the rear. We stayed in a bit of a crouch, which was nearly doubled over for the Primals in the caravan. Luckily, the state of the field, namely in full growth, kept us from making too much noise as we moved forward. The soil was free of leaves, stalks, and general debris which would crunch and snap and expose our position. My heart continued to pound in my ears, my pulse racing, uncaring of our progress. Jade and Steve were both in the same physical and mental position I was.

  Our first real situation. A deadly situation.

  The staccato pop, pop, pop, of automatic gunfire punctuated my mental point from behind us, the soldier firing randomly, or in our perceived direction. Either way, it kept my pulse beating like a jackhammer.

  Slowly, we continued our trek toward where Dane believed our guy to be moving. I had no idea how any of them could utilize their senses in this silk forest. My senses were saturated with the sight and scent of dirt, and the sweet and starchy smell of fresh corn. I normally loved the emanation, but today it seemed cloying, like it was thickening in my throat, keeping me from swallowing effectively. I wasn't sure I'd ever view corn the same way again.

  Holden clamped the hem of my shirt, halting me when it tightened and pulled in his hand. In turn, I did the same to Steve in front of me, the action repeating up the chain until all of us were still and crouching, like animals hunting in the swaying stalks.