11
TWO BLASTS. OUR DELIVERY TRUCK flipped and landed on the pavement with a crash. I felt my bones crushing against metal through my bruised, battered flesh. The sound of boots landing on the roof—no—the floor above us knocked me back into consciousness. I hadn’t even realized I’d lost it in the first place.
“Rhys.” With blood dripping down my eyelids, it was that much harder to pry them apart, but I managed to. Squinting, I felt around for him, my stomach pressed against the van’s ceiling, my hands touching cold metal, until I felt strands of hair beneath my fingertips. “Belle?”
She stirred at the sound of my voice, her lips sputtering something I couldn’t hear. Blood was streaming down the sides of her forehead, matting her hair, tracing a line down her ears. It was dark. Some of the weapons had burst out of their cases, a few phantom bombs rolling past my legs, hitting my twisted left foot. But they were still locked; none of them had gone off.
“Rhys!” Coughing, I looked around, lifting myself off my stomach to survey the inside of the delivery truck until I found him. He was out. Or dead? My heart rate suddenly sped up as I squirmed to him and felt for a pulse. No. He was still alive. Gingerly wiping some of the dirt and blood from his face, I sputtered out a grateful breath before shaking him. “Wake up. Wake up. Rhys!”
The pair of boots on the “roof” of the van stood still above us.
“U-unit Six,” I said, trying to contact the van that had been behind us. No response. “Eveline? Lock?” I shook Rhys again. “All units, all units. Unit Seven is down. I repeat. Unit Seven is down! Help us! Someone. Anyone!”
I smelled the smoke before looking up and seeing the red line of a laser carving itself through the metal.
“Saul,” I whispered. “Oh my god. All units, we’re being attacked. I think it’s Saul.”
But Saul could vanish and appear anywhere he wanted. He didn’t have to cut a hole into the van to get to us. Who was this?
“Hey!” I was yelling now, as much as my voice would allow. “Can’t you hear me?”
“They cut the communications.” Belle just barely managed to find her voice. “The mission is compromised.”
The last thing I wanted to hear.
We were running out of time. I shook Rhys again and finally he began to rouse, but it wouldn’t be fast enough. Whoever it was above us, he’d hopped down from the roof. The back doors of the van were already bent out of shape and half off their hinges, so I could see him approach. He needed only to push the metal doors to the side to find us squirming inside the van.
Or was it a “she”? The fitted bodysuit revealed an average-size feminine form, though her hair and face were sheathed inside a white metal helmet.
Metal helmet . . .
“It’s the same,” I whispered. The same helmet, the same suit. The same as the man we’d found in the Sahara hideout.
Whoever she was, she was blocking our way out and coming toward us. With a wave of her hand, Belle created a thick wall of ice to keep her from reaching us, but I knew the barrier wouldn’t last; the mysterious soldier was already pounding against it. I had to do something. Dragging myself over to the side of the van, I placed my hand on the surface. My mind was still rattled by the impact, but I didn’t have a choice. Summoning my will, I let the power flow into me, breathing it into my lungs. I felt it slide down my arms according to my will, my pulse quickening as it leaked out of my fingers.
Calm down, I told myself when my heart began beating out of whack. I saw my burning house in my mind’s eye, but I banished the image. Don’t think about your family. You’re not there; you’re here. The heat spread down half the length of the wall. Belle was pulling herself over to Rhys as the circle above us neared completion.
“Rhys, get up!” Belle gave him a hard slap just as the laser above us stopped.
One last kick sent the ice barrier crashing down. Belle knocked a block of it away with her arm, yelling out in pain. With a grunt, I let the fire explode out of my hands, closing my eyes from the blast. What was left of the van’s wall soared off and skidded across the ground. Rhys was conscious enough to grab on to Belle as we jumped out after it.
I landed on my back, turning just in time to see the woman’s boots clicking into the van, too late to reach us. She didn’t seem to mind. Instead of coming after us, she stayed inside the van, busying herself as we dragged ourselves to our feet. Busying herself . . .
The ring. That must have been it.
“She’s stealing the ring,” I yelled as Rhys and Belle got to their feet. “We have to—”
The Sect agents by the checkpoint lowered their weapons only to pick up the guns in their holsters.
The bullets hailed. One flew past my head and another tore across my right arm as we ducked for cover behind the van. Effigies healed fast, but right now the stinging pain was hard to bear. Belle was breathing heavily, holding her stomach, still reeling from the explosion. Eveline and Lock, still alive, dragged themselves out of the van’s window to take cover with us. But that woman remained inside the van. It was bulletproof, Sect-grade protection. With us occupied, she had plenty of time to take what she needed.
“This is insane.” Rhys already had his knife in hand; the other held his head in pain. “Unit Six!” He’d yelled it instead, not bothering with his comm. “We need back—”
He couldn’t finish, because he finally saw them through their windshield. They were dead, their heads rolled over at odd angles, blood dripping from the single bullet holes in their foreheads, shot through the window.
“Rachel!” Lock screamed in anguish as his hand dove into his holster.
Their murderer hopped down from the roof of Unit 6 onto the hood, crushing it a little. He had to be at least a foot taller than the woman and a hundred pounds heavier. Maybe more. He was huge, a bodybuilder on steroids. The man was armored from limb to limb, his head covered with the same sleek, robotic white helmet. But Big Guy’s movements were strange, almost alien. His body seemed to convulse with each clunky step. It didn’t stop him from raising his gun at us.
Lock charged past us, gun in hand.
“Wait!” Eveline cried, but Lock’s sleeve slipped out of her grip. She ran after him.
Lock shot a hail of bullets, and every one of them found Big Guy’s chest only to bounce off his armor with a loud clink. But did this thing even need armor? One of Lock’s bullets shot through Big Guy’s gloved hand as he raised it. He didn’t even flinch. No blood oozed out of the hole.
One of the agent’s bullets from the railings caught Lock’s arm, and he cried out in pain. That distracted him long enough for the mysterious enemy to lurch forward and grab his neck. Eveline wasn’t fast enough to reach him before the snap. Her hands weren’t nimble enough to take her gun before Lock’s murderer pointed his at her head. But Belle launched forward, wincing in pain, and with a swing of her hand, froze the gun in his hands before his bullet could leave the barrel. But something told me this guy didn’t need a gun.
First, I had to get rid of the treacherous Sect agents. There was no other way. With a yell, I stretched my arm forward and a wall of a fire exploded from below the walkway, sending the agents into the air, shards of railing with it.
“Get back!” I told Rhys, and I tried the trick again, this time blowing our delivery van toward the wall and hopefully that woman with it. Better no ring than the ring being stolen by a couple of murderous cyborgs.
I was too late. While the van was sailing in the air, the woman jumped out through the busted back doors just as the van hit the wall. I had barely registered the crash when she rushed at me. Belle’s sword was out before I could react, but the woman expertly dodged her swings.
Rhys grabbed his knife.
“Wait!” I said, clutching his shirt instinctively. “Are you okay? You’re still injured.”
“I’ll be okay,” he told me, though he couldn’t hide his sudden wince. A fresh wave of fear shot through me as I watched him.
“But—”
With a gentle hand, Rhys wiped the blood staining my cheek. I fell silent at his touch. “Help Eveline,” Rhys told me before tightening his grip on his knife and joining Belle’s fight.
He was right. With great effort, I tore my eyes from him and followed the order. The other enemy was built like a fridge and moved like one. He didn’t bother to dodge Eveline’s gunshots, even when one bullet cracked his helmet. But that was good. It made him an easier target for me.
You can do this, Maia, I told myself. Well, it was either I did it or I died.
“Move back,” I told Eveline, and, biting my lip, I forced my breath to calm. Fire erupted at my feet, the smooth pole forming in my hands. With the familiar weight balanced across my palms, I ran forward, flipping it around like I’d done so many times in training, bringing my blade down on him.
He didn’t dodge. He didn’t even try. I buried the sickled edge into the crook of his neck.
And yet he was still coming for me. Fear seized me. I let go of the handle and stepped back as he lumbered forward, undisturbed by the blade still in his muscle. With my mouth gaping, I did the only thing I could think of. A wall of fire, tall enough to keep him in place. Eveline jumped back from the flickering flames as it circled him.
“Is this thing human?” Eveline screamed, reaching into her pocket for new rounds, reloading her gun.
It couldn’t have been. But his partner was. I could hear her laughing—a high-pitched voice, joyful and murderous as she dodged Rhys’s and Belle’s attacks. Still struggling against the aftereffects of the attack, neither fought at their full potential, but this girl’s speed and agility would have been hard to guard against regardless. Blocking the swing of Belle’s sword with her armored biceps, she ran for Rhys, dipping to the side to dodge his gunshot.
“What’s wrong, Aidan? Nah, that’s no good. You used to be a better shot, sweetie.”
Rhys froze to the spot at the sound of her Australian voice, and in that one second, she was behind him, grabbing his hand, pointing his gun at Belle.
“Let me help you!”
The shot tore through Belle’s leg, but it was Rhys I ran for, trying to make it before the woman, using Rhys’s own hand to point his gun at his head, could fire the shot. Rhys overcame her himself, stretching his arm up just as the shot rang out into the air. She quickly snapped his wrist before maneuvering out of the way. Rhys doubled backward in pain.
“Rhys!” I said as he tripped on a spare wheel. I caught him before he could fall. “Rhys.”
“Jessie . . . ,” he whispered, his face pale. He couldn’t see her face. But her voice was enough. “It’s Jessie.”
The woman he’d called Jessie was fast. Too fast. She dodged Eveline’s shots until the agent’s gun clicked empty, but she was already on Belle, whose sluggish ice attack couldn’t land its target. As the ice spread across the ground a few feet away from us, Jessie grabbed Belle’s wrist with one gloved hand and slammed her other hand into her neck. I didn’t understand what had happened until I saw the frost forming at Belle’s fingertips fizzle and die.
There must have been some device inside Jessie’s glove. I could see a red spot of blood where Belle’s neck had been pricked. And her powers . . . her powers were gone.
Jessie took advantage of Belle’s shock to knock her out with a well-placed elbow to the temple. Next she came for me. Fast. Smoke sputtered from my hand erratically as I tried to control my equally erratic heartbeat. Calm down. I had to calm down. Jessie had already caught my wrist. A small circular metal device in the palm of her glove seized my attention, the tiny needle in the center of it glinting as she reached for my neck.
We heard the soft clink at the same time. My neck-band. I could almost picture Jessie’s surprised expression behind her helmet as she paused, looking from her glove to my neck.
Taking advantage of her confusion, I kicked her away and summoned my weapon once more, but heavy footsteps behind me forced me around. It was the Big Guy. His armor was still smoking from the fire he’d just charged through.
With clumsy steps, he ran at me. From wild instinct alone, I swung my scythe at him, hoping that this time the blade would slice clean through his neck. But he dodged, catching the handle just underneath the sickle and lifting me off my feet. I swung my feet in the air, too shocked to react when the beast-like man rammed his other hand into Eveline’s face as she made for him, swatting her away like a fly. Rhys was busy avoiding Jessie’s hand-to-hand attacks. As Eveline hit the ground, unconscious, I knew I had to finish this guy off myself.
I grabbed his head and set it on fire, the force of the explosion pushing us back. I ripped his helmet off as I fell, and that’s when I got my first look at him.
Oh, god.
The moment my boots hit the ground, I stumbled and landed on the floor, stunned. My stomach heaved as I saw the maggots—tiny, squirming things in the eye sockets of the rotted flesh where the Big Guy’s head should be. Parts of his skull peeked through. I covered my mouth.
This was impossible.
“Ah, man,” Jessie said. “You ruined the surprise. Still, it’s impressive, right?” Flipping back to create enough space between herself and Rhys, Jessie took off one of her gloves, revealing a sickly pale, slender hand, and snapped her fingers.
The monster started to move. Lumbering. Lurching at her command.
But phantoms were the only monsters that were supposed to exist in this world.
Phantoms and Effigies.
“Take her, Dead Guy,” Jessie commanded her slave. “Take the girl.”
The girl. Me. My arms were lifeless at my sides as I stared at the maggots slipping in and out of his flesh. I couldn’t move.
Suddenly, sirens echoed around us.
Sect vans sped down the tunnel from both ends. Encouraged, I whipped around to face my attackers again, but Jessie didn’t waste any time. Without another word, she cut across the tunnel, grabbed something from her back pocket, and threw it against the wall. The small metal device latched on to the concrete with four metal arms spread out like a lucky clover, each arm lighting up with red bars down its length.
A second passed.
Then, the explosion.
Rhys and I shielded our eyes from the dust. And once it settled, Jessie was gone, her monstrous puppet falling to the ground with a dull thud.
A dead pile of flesh and bones on the pavement.