by Aaron Hodges
Yet even surrounded by the sweet scent of her brethren, a part of her still resisted. A voice deep inside her called out, demanding her to act. Because if she did nothing, Talisa would lead them all to destruction.
“Explain yourself, child,” Talisa said finally, her voice laced with anger.
Susan glanced from Hecate to Talisa. “There’s something I remembered…” she repeated, slowly regathering her confidence. “A final piece to the puzzle of our survival.”
“And what would that be?”
“A way to defeat them,” Susan whispered. “A way to wipe humanity from existence.”
40
“No! Stop! Leave me alone!”
The scream echoed from an alleyway running between two of the rotting mansions. Scanning the shadows, Liz found the silhouettes of two men and a woman advancing on a fourth figure. As the scream came again, she folded her wings and dropped from the sky.
Stones crunched as Liz slammed into the ground, her jet-black wings flaring out to fill the alleyway. The three assailants flung themselves away from her, eyes wide. Shouts echoed off the narrow walls as they tripped and went down in a heap. A low growl rose in Liz’s throat as she stepped towards them.
The three scrambled to their feet, but now that the initial shock of her appearance had worn off, they stood their ground. The tall walls of the alley cut off the last glow of the setting sun, but Liz had no trouble making them out in the gloom. Her eyes swept over the three, taking in their tanned skin and angry eyes. The woman with them held a pistol gripped tightly in one hand, while one of the men cradled a sawed-off shotgun. The last towered over the other two, a crowbar in hand.
“It’s one of them freaks!” the woman with the pistol shouted. “You know, the old President’s lackeys?”
“Yeah, we’re not blind, Sally,” the man with the shotgun replied. His eyes glinted in the darkness as he pointed his weapon at Liz. “What do you want, freak?”
Liz could hear their victim whimpering behind her. Glancing back, she saw a girl on her knees huddled up against the wall. Cursing, she swung back to the assailants. Only a few feet separated them—she could cross that distance in the blink of an eye. Making up her mind, she gave a dark smile and folded her arms.
“Leave now, and I won’t break your legs,” she said, flashing her most menacing grin.
The three shared a glance and edged back a step, eyes wary. The public hadn’t seen what they could do, but these three came from the countryside; they would be all too familiar with the Chead. To her surprise though, they stood their ground, seeming to take confidence from their numbers and weapons. The two in the lead hefted their guns and pointed them at her chest.
“What’s the girl to you, freak?” The man with the shotgun smiled and gestured at the terrified girl. “Pretty urban thing like that needs a lesson on how the world works now.”
Fists clenched, Liz took a slow step forward. Stones crunched as the three took a matching step back, the guns wavering in their hands. Fury lit in Liz’s chest as she watched them, the bitter taste of disgust on her tongue.
“You make me sick,” she spat. “What has she ever done to you? You think just because the government set the Chead on us, it gives you some right to take that injustice out on her? You think this is her fault, just because she’s from the city?”
“What would you know, freak?” the woman with the pistol snapped. Anger seemed to give the woman courage. “Why don’t you go scampering back to your maker? I’m sure you’ve got things all nice and comfy, being his pet guinea pig and all.”
“Is that what you think?” Liz growled. Her wings beat down, sending dust swirling through the alleyway. “You think I’ve had it good, do you?”
The woman’s face paled as Liz approached, the handgun wavering. The man with the shotgun stepped in front of her. “Hey, stay back!”
Liz ignored him. “You think it’s fun, being locked away for months? You want to try it? Maybe we should throw you in a cage and spend a few weeks prodding and poking you, tormenting you like some animal. Maybe then we’ll see who’s the freak!” Her voice rose to a scream as she lunged forward and tore the shotgun from the man’s hands.
He stumbled back as she slammed the gun down on her knee. It snapped in two with a shriek of twisting metal. Hurling the pieces aside, Liz leapt as the woman pointed her pistol. The gunshots roared in the narrow space, but Liz was already airborne, her black wings merging with the night.
Then she was among them, her wings flashing out, sending them reeling. Spinning on her heel, she jumped at the woman with the gun, driving her boot down into the woman’s knee. There was a satisfying crack as it gave way. A high-pitched scream filled the alleyway as she dropped her gun and staggered back.
Recovering from his shock, the first man shouted and lunged at Liz. Pressed against the wall, she had no space to avoid him, but it hardly mattered. His fist flashed for her face, but she only reached up and caught it with a gloved hand. The color drained from the man as she grinned. Before he could pull away, she dragged him forward into a headbutt.
He staggered back as she released him, hands on his head. When he didn’t go down, she leapt, wings beating to add to her momentum, and kicked him square in the chest. The blow hurled him back into the concrete wall. Groaning, he slid to the ground and did not get back up.
Liz nodded with satisfaction and searched for the last man. He was already fleeing down the alleyway, his broad back disappearing into the shadows. Anger lit in her stomach. Baring her teeth she started after him, before a soft sob drew her attention back to the girl. Pausing, Liz sucked in a long breath, and dismissed the fleeing man as a coward.
The woman with the broken knee was still cursing under her breath, trying to drag herself away from Liz. The pistol lay nearby and Liz quickly kicked it out of reach, before aiming a solid blow at the woman’s head for good measure. Only then did she approach the girl.
Her blonde hair was a tangled mess, and when she looked up at Liz, there was naked fear in her eyes. Dirt streaked her pale face and covered her clothes. She couldn’t have been older than Liz’s own seventeen years of age.
Liz offered a friendly smile as she crouched beside the girl. “Hey, it’s okay, they’re gone now.”
Wide-eyed, the girl stared. “Please, no,” she stammered, shaking her head. “Please, just leave me alone.”
Liz blinked, her brow creasing in a frown. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. Here, let me help you up.” She offered a hand.
Screaming, the girl scrambled back. “Stay away from me, freak!”
Liz flinched as the shout echoed through the alleyway. Slowly she straightened, the smile falling from her face. Where the men’s insults had slid from her like oil on water, this one cut straight to her soul. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find the words to reassure the girl.
“I…I’m only trying to help,” she stammered finally.
“I know what you are,” the girl spat as she scrambled to her feet. She jabbed a finger at Liz like a knife. “You’re one of them, one of the Chead!”
“What? No! I’m not Chead.” Liz gave a hesitant smile and nodded at her wings. They lifted gently from her back, though in the darkness her black feathers were almost invisible. “See?”
The girl’s face only paled further at the sight of Liz’s wings. She backed away, her feet stumbling over the garbage littering the ground. “No, you are! I heard on the radio…you and that boy, you’re just the Chead in disguise, come to take us away, to make us all into freaks like you!” She was screaming at the top of her lungs now, gesturing wildly with her hands, her high-pitched voice drilling into Liz’s skull.
Liz fought for calm. “What? That’s ridiculous, I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” She gestured at the unconscious man and woman behind her. Trying to keep her voice light, she continued, “Look, it’s not safe out here. Why don’t you tell me where you live, and I can take y
ou home?”
Smiling, she held out her hand again, but one look at the girl’s face told Liz she wasn’t buying it. Eyes wide and shining, the girl shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Drawing herself up, she spat at Liz’s feet. “I’d rather die than become one of you.”
All Liz could do was stand and stare. Hate and fear warred on the youthful face. Shivering, Liz glanced at the two she’d downed. With the chaos gripping the city, there was a good chance more like them were lurking in the streets. Could this girl really hate her so much? Was she really so afraid she’d rather risk being mugged, or worse, than accept Liz’s help?
Blinking back tears, Liz shook her head. “I only want to help you,” she tried one last time.
“I’m sure that works on rural tramps like you,” the girl sneered, “but us city girls aren’t so gullible.”
The girl glared at Liz, as though waiting for a response, but Liz couldn’t find the words. She stood there in silence, eyes downcast, the wings hanging from her back like lead weights. Finally, the girl snorted and spat again, then spun on her heel and marched off down the alleyway.
Liz watched as the girl disappeared into the shadows, leaving her alone in the alleyway. The rush of the fight had left Liz, and now she felt lost and empty. Loneliness clung to her like a dark shadow. She yearned for someone to hold her, for the warmth of love to fill her. Instead, there was nothing but a vacant hollow in her chest.
She stood there for a long time, listening to the sounds of the night, the distant echoes, the whisper of voices. She tried to pick out the girl’s footsteps, but either she was too far away, or she had already made it home. Despite the pain in her heart, Liz hoped it was the latter.
Finally, as the dim glow of the half-moon lit the alleyway, Liz faced the sky. A sudden yearning filled her, a need to see the man she had once loved, to go to Chris and listen to his story. Every day her hope for the future faded and the hole in her heart grew, the walls hardening. She didn’t want to be that person anymore, that girl who shut out the world.
No, she needed to talk to Chris, to hear him out. She might never love him again, but maybe if she could just understand why he had betrayed them—why he had betrayed her—she could at least move on. Maybe then the jagged hole in her heart would start to heal.
Taking a breath, Liz wiped the unspilt tears from her eyes.
Then she spread her wings and hurled herself into the sky.
41
“So, I understand you want my help?”
Sam sat quietly at the boardroom table, watching as the speaker paced the length of the room. The man wore a dark green military jacket sprinkled with an impressive array of medals and ribbons, which no doubt meant he held a position of some prestige. Not that military rank meant much these days. The thousand loyal troops the man commanded were an entirely different matter.
“That’s right.” Though he spoke softly, Harry’s voice carried easily across the room. The veteran sat in a simple wooden chair at the head of the table, fingers folded in front of him.
Reaching the end of the room, the commander turned and made his way back to the table. He stopped beside Harry and looked down at the old man. “And who are you to request my help?” There was no mistaking the disdain in his voice.
Towering over the table, the man made an imposing sight, but Harry met his steely gaze with a calm smile. “Why, I’m just an old man, Commander. I am no one. I only hope to serve my country one last time. I believe I have earned at least a little trust in the community since the government’s collapse. Perhaps if we work together, your men can help me restore some peace to San Francisco.”
The Commander eyed Harry, then gave a snort. He pulled out the chair beside the old veteran, then sat and looked around the table. Sam shrank in his chair, but the man’s eyes traveled past him without seeming to note his attendance. Most of the others present, Sam didn’t recognize, but he smiled as he met Jocelyn’s gaze. Hers at least was a friendly face—the rest regarded his appearance with either cold indifference or outright hate.
The eight men and women at the table made up the “council” that Harry had brought together to help him restore order. They included a captain from the small group of police who’d fallen in with Harry, the new leader of the Madwomen, a doctor and several former politicians, Jocelyn, and a couple of self-appointed leaders from the rural refugees. It was they who had given Sam the darkest looks as he sat down. No doubt they recognized him from his press conference with the President.
“And I suppose you’d like me and my men to fall under your command, Harry? Can I call you Harry?” The commander laughed and patted the old veteran on the shoulder so hard it almost knocked him from the chair. “I’m not sure that’ll work for me, Harry. You see, you’re just a civilian. My men, they don’t respect civilians, not with the way your lot have let things go to hell. I hear a general up in Portland has declared martial law, taken control of the city himself. Not a bad idea, if you ask me.”
A strained silence fell over the room. The members of Harry’s council shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Harry said nothing, but took a moment to straighten his tie. Finally, a smile spread across his wrinkled cheeks and he nodded at the commander.
“I suppose that’s fair,” he said in his soft voice. “I know how they feel, these men of yours. My comrades and I, we used to talk about the injustice of it all ourselves, back in the war. How we had to take orders that might very well get us killed, while those giving them sat back in the safety of San Francisco.”
The commander’s eyebrows knitted together. “You fought in the war?”
Harry’s smile spread. “Oh, yes. Lieutenant Harry McCrae, Third Division, Artillery, at your service. Well, that was my position for most of the war, anyway.” Placing his hands on the table, Harry pushed himself to his feet. Wandering around the room, he continued, “Not at the end, mind. You see, those politicians back in San Francisco were devious creatures. They came up with a plan, one that would have saved thousands, maybe millions of lives.”
He had circumnavigated the table by now. Stopping behind his chair, he leaned against its back and stared down at the commander. “Only thing was, they needed a few brave soldiers to see it through. They needed a few men to face almost certain death, and light the fuse of the new world.”
Sam’s heart hammered in his chest. All eyes were on the old veteran now. Slowly Harry pulled back his chair, its wooden legs scraping loudly against the tiles, and resumed his seat. Clasping his fingers together, he smiled grimly at the commander.
“My friends and I, we were those men. I was the only one who made it out of DC, the one who drew the short straw. I got to live on, and see the world that my friends died for become corrupted. To watch as the rich and powerful turned it into their plaything.” His eyes drilled into the commander, unblinking. “So when you say your men won’t respect a civilian, after the mess the President and his Director have created, I understand.” Harry leaned forward in his chair, his voice turning hard. “Now you understand this, Commander. I will not let the Western Allied States fall.”
Sam almost smiled as the commander’s throat contracted. The man’s eyes were wide, becoming great globes in his pale face. The silence stretched out as he stared at the old veteran, lost for words. It seemed to take an effort of will for him to finally tear his gaze away.
“Yes, well, with certain conditions, perhaps we could come to an arrangement, sir,” the commander mumbled.
Harry’s face brightened and the tension in the room melted away. “I’m glad to hear it.” He gestured around the table. “I’m sure my friends and I can oblige.”
The commander nodded. After taking a moment, he continued, “I see you have one of them with you.” His eyes flicked to Sam. “Mind explaining to me why?”
“Samuel is here at my invitation,” Harry replied. “He was instrumental in the Director’s fall. We are all in his debt for breaking open Alcatraz. I thought it appropriate he jo
in us.”
The commander said nothing, but a man sitting at the other end of the table had apparently had enough. “Rubbish,” he growled, pulling himself to his feet. Sam tensed as he looked at the refugee leader. “I’ll not sit here and discuss the future of our country while one of them sits listening.”
Anger lit in Sam’s chest as a rumble of agreement carried around the table, but Harry cut across the whispers before he could respond. “We would not be sitting here at all, if not for him, Diego.”
“We only have your word for that,” the woman beside Diego replied.
“And in the brief time we’ve known each other, Margery, has my word ever been false?” Harry replied.
Margery pursed her lips. “No, but these days that’s hardly much reassurance.”
“Then let me reassure you,” Jocelyn cut in. “I can vouch for Samuel as well. He rescued me and my children, when the government would have executed us as traitors. I would, and have, trusted him with my life.”
Still standing, Diego snorted. “You might trust him, but I don’t. Not after what I saw his friend do. His kind, what they can do, they’re not even human.”
“My kind?” Sam asked, climbing to his feet.
The man sneered. “Would you prefer ‘abomination’?”
“Why don’t you come over here and say that,” Sam said dangerously. A tremor ran through his wings, and they rose slightly from his back.
“Enough!” Harry hardly lifted his voice, but his command cut through the tension like a knife.
Blinking, Sam glanced at the veteran, before running his eyes over the rest of the room. He realized with a start that his wings were almost fully extended now, their copper feathers throwing a shadow over the table. The other members of the council stared at him, eyes wide and faces pale. With his teeth bared and fists clenched, he must have looked a demon, ready to tear them all to pieces.
