“What am I supposed to be looking for, Walker?”
“That’s what I said. I missed it the first time, too,” Walker replies, running the footage back again. “Apparently, the thousands of highly trained military personnel didn’t notice this happen in real time either. Watch the river now.”
Sam leans in next to us, squinting at the video. “Something falls off the ship,” he states flatly, pointing at the screen.
He’s right. A round object about the size of Setrákus Ra’s pearl-shaped getaway ship drops from the warship’s belly. It hits the East River with a large splash and immediately sinks out of view.
“Ever seen anything like that before?” Walker asks.
I shake my head. “I’d never even seen one of the warships until the Anubis attacked New York.”
Walkers sighs. “So we’re still in the dark.”
“Are they sending that sub down to look for whatever that was?” Sam asks.
Walker nods. “The river’s only about a hundred feet deep, but they don’t want to risk sending divers down in case it’s some kind of weapon or trap.”
“What else could it possibly be?” I ask Walker, putting my hands on my hips and turning towards the river. Add this mysterious object to the long list of things I’ve got to worry about.
“The higher-ups are hoping it was an accidental drop, that something fell off the warship that we could potentially study or use against the Mogadorians, get a better understanding of what we’re up against.”
“Setrákus Ra doesn’t do anything by accident.”
“So you’re saying we shouldn’t send anyone down there?” Walker asks, one eyebrow raised. “You aren’t curious, John?”
Before I can reply, there’s a screech of tires from the end of the pier. One of the army jeeps comes in fast and has to slam on the brakes when it reaches the knot of soldiers milling around. Two soldiers, a driver and her passenger, jump out of the car. The driver throws off her helmet, revealing a sweaty shock of dark black hair. She yanks open the back door and the other soldier comes around the car to help her lift a third soldier out of the car. He looks wounded, although I can’t tell how badly from this distance. Other military personnel gather around, trying to help these new arrivals.
“Where are they?” shouts the woman. “Where’s the alien? Where’s that FBI bitch?”
A lump forms in my throat. Setrákus Ra put out a bounty on me and the rest of the Garde. Maybe these soldiers have decided it’s time to collect. All the same, I step forward. I’m not going to hide. The soldiers clustered at the end of the pier are pointing in my direction, anyway. There’s nowhere to go. I glance over my shoulder and see the high-ranking old men, the colonels and generals and whatever the hell else, they’ve all turned to watch this scene play out. They don’t seem all that interested in intervening should this turn dangerous.
Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. Maybe sensing that I’ve tensed up, Walker puts a hand on my arm.
“Let me handle this,” she says.
“We don’t even know what this is,” I tell her, striding forward to meet the soldiers.
“He’s all messed up,” Sam says, eyeing the soldier now being carried by the driver and her spooked-looking partner. The front of the injured soldier’s fatigues are soaked through with blood. He’s barely conscious and has to be held up by the others. The male soldier supporting him doesn’t look injured, but still looks almost dead on his feet. Shell-shocked. Only the driver seems at all with it, and she’s glaring daggers at Agent Walker.
“What happened, soldier?” Walker asks as the trio stops a few feet in front of us. I can see the last name embroidered on the driver’s shirt is Schaffer.
“We were doing what you said. Out looking for him and his friends,” Schaffer replies, jerking her chin in my direction. So there were other units in the city besides the one that pulled us out of the subway station. “We thought we’d found a survivor, but we got attacked.”
“Mogadorians did this?” I ask, taking a step towards the injured soldier. The front of his shirt is slashed open and so is the bulletproof vest underneath it. That happened while he was out trying to help me. “Hold him steady. Let me heal him.”
With Schaffer and the other soldier holding their injured partner up, I start to carefully peel off his shredded shirt and bulletproof vest. All the while, Schaffer glares at me.
“You’re not listening,” Schaffer snaps. “We found a kid, looked like he was made of metal. Thought he was one of you Garde freaks, so we told him we’d bring him back here to you. He came at us with a blade. He flew at us. Moved faster than anything should. Took our weapons, and did that to Roosevelt.”
I swallow hard. Only now do I notice that the soldier hasn’t just been slashed up. A message is carved into him.
5
“Where is he?” I ask, my voice like ice.
“He sent us back here to tell you,” Schaffer replies. “He said he’ll be at the Statue of Liberty at sunset. Wants you to meet him.”
“Was there anyone with him?” Sam asks.
“Big, dark-haired guy. Unconscious,” Schaffer says. She turns back to me. “He said to tell you what will happen if you don’t come. I don’t know what this crazy crap’s supposed to mean—he said meet him at sunset or he’ll give you a new scar.”
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
WE STAND AT THE EDGE OF THE GRASS IN FRONT of the Sanctuary, side by side, our backs to the temple. Together, we look out at the horizon, to the north. That’s the direction Setrákus Ra’s warship will be coming from. We’ve got until sunset.
The three of us are the last line of defense.
The day has only gotten hotter. At least that lets me pretend the sweat dampening the back of my shirt is all from the heat.
I point towards the tree line. “The Mogs did us a favor cutting down all that jungle,” I say as I cock my head, trying to gauge the distance. “We should be able to see the ship coming from at least a mile out.”
“They’ll see us, too,” Adam replies, his voice somber. “I don’t know, Six. This seems like madness.”
I’d been waiting for Adam to say something like that. I knew from the look on his face during our conversation with John and Sam that he wasn’t on board with us staying to fight Setrákus Ra and his warship.
“Setrákus Ra cannot be allowed to enter the Sanctuary,” Marina says, before I can reply. “That is a Loric place. A sacred place. He would defile it. Whatever he wants, we must stop him from getting it.”
I glance from Marina to Adam, and shrug at the Mogadorian. “You heard her.”
Adam shakes his head, growing more frustrated. “Look, I understand this place is special to you, but it’s not worth trading our lives for.”
“I disagree,” Marina replies curtly. She’s definitely already made up her mind. There’s no way she’s leaving the Sanctuary now, not after all that’s happened here.
“We accomplished what we needed to here,” Adam argues. “Some of the humans have Legacies now. There’s nothing Setrákus Ra can do to change that. He’s too late.”
“We don’t know that,” I reply, glancing over my shoulder at the Sanctuary. “If he got in there he could . . . I don’t know. Reverse what we’ve done, maybe. Or do something to hurt the Entity.”
Adam frowns. “He’s controlled your home planet for more than a decade and never been able to take away your Legacies. Not permanently, anyway.”
“Because Lorien was here,” Marina replies emphatically. “It’s been hiding here and now he’s found it. We can’t let him touch the Entity. The consequences could be catastrophic.”
Adam throws up his hands. “You’re not listening to reason!”
I glance away from Adam, towards the landing strip cluttered with disabled Skimmers. Of course, my eyes find their way to Phiri Dun-Ra. Still gagged and tied to a wheel strut, she’s made an effort to sit up straighter, probably trying to listen in to our conversation. I can tell by the way that her f
ace crinkles around the duct tape that she’s smiling at me. I remember what she said earlier this morning, when she was trying to convince me that Adam was secretly out to get us.
“You don’t think we can win, so you’re afraid to fight,” I say bluntly, regretting the words almost as soon as they’re out of my mouth.
Adam whips around to look at me, then follows my gaze to Phiri. He must make the connection between my statement and her earlier rant. He disgustedly shakes his head and walks a few steps away from me.
Marina nudges me, whispering, “Six . . .”
“I’m sorry, Adam,” I say quickly. “Seriously. That was a low blow.”
“No, you’re right, Six,” Adam replies dryly, shrugging. “I’m a coward because I don’t want to die today. I’m a coward because, as a boy, I watched from the deck of one of those warships as your home planet was obliterated. I’m a coward because I think we should find a better way. A smarter way.”
“All right, Adam,” I say, feeling a tightness in my chest at his casual mention of Lorien’s destruction. “We hear you.”
“It might not be smart,” Marina adds. “But it’s what’s right.”
Adam rounds on us, his tone acidic. “In that case, which one of you is going to do it?”
“Do what?” I ask.
“Kill Ella,” he replies. “We all heard what John said. Setrákus Ra has her bound with his own version of your old Loric charm. You can’t hurt him without first hurting her. I’ve never even met the girl and I can tell you right now, I’m not going to do it. So tell me, which one of you is going to kill your friend?”
“No one,” I say resolutely, locking eyes with Adam. “We’re going to figure out a way to stop Setrákus Ra without hurting her.”
Adam glances up at the sun, as if trying to figure out how much daylight we’ve got left.
“Great,” Adam says. “Fantastic. Our resources are some broken-down ships and whatever the hell we can find in the jungle. Tell me how the hell you’re going to stop Setrákus Ra in our situation, Six.”
“John said there’d be backup coming, the military—”
“He said he’d try,” Adam practically shouts at me. “Look, I trust John, but he’s thousands of miles away. Help is thousands of miles away. Right here? It’s just us. We’re it.”
“Help is right behind us,” Marina says. Her voice is still calm, but there’s a strain there. What Adam’s been saying has gotten under her skin. “The Sanctuary will give us a way to fight.”
Adam takes this in for a moment before rolling his eyes. “A miracle. That’s what the two of you are hoping for? A miracle! I get that you woke that thing in there up, and I know it let you talk to your . . . your friend one last time. But that’s all it’s going to do, okay? It is done helping us. Don’t believe me? Maybe we could ask some of the Loric how much that Entity helped during the last Mogadorian invasion. If they weren’t all dead.”
The air around me gets cold. At first, it feels pretty good in this overbearing jungle heat, until I realize that it’s Marina fuming in her own special way. She takes a step towards Adam, her fists clenched, the whole serene-sister-of-the-Sanctuary thing dropped in a hurry.
“Don’t talk about what you don’t know, you monster!” she yells, jabbing her finger in the air at him. An icicle shoots from Marina’s index finger and stabs into the dirt at Adam’s feet. Immediately, it begins to melt. Adam takes a surprised step back, staring at Marina.
“Enough,” I say, stepping in between the two of them. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
From the airstrip, Phiri Dun-Ra makes a series of muffled gagging noises. I realize that she’s laughing at us. I tune her out, turn around and take Marina by the shoulders. Her skin is cold to the touch.
“Much as I love the air conditioning right now, you need to walk away for a minute,” I tell her.
Marina gives me a look of disbelief, like she can’t believe I’m siding with Adam against her. I shake my head gently and raise my eyebrows, letting her know that’s not what this is. She sighs, pushes a hand through her hair and walks towards the Sanctuary.
I turn to glare at Adam. At first, he doesn’t look at me. He’s too busy watching the icicle Marina fired at him turn to water.
“Lucky she didn’t take your eye out,” I say, only half joking.
“I know,” he replies, finally looking up at me. “Six, look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought up Lorien. That’s not—that’s not my place.”
“You bet your ass it isn’t,” I say, taking a step closer to him. “It’s all right, you’re freaking out a little, I’m gonna chalk it up to that. But yeah, don’t talk about our dead families and massacred planet again, okay? Because I seriously wanted to punch you in the face.”
Adam nods. “Understood.”
“I’m still not sure you do,” I reply, lowering my voice and getting even closer. “Let me make it perfectly clear for you, Adam. I’ve got no intention of dying out here today. You think I don’t get that the odds are against us? Dude, I don’t need that explained to me. But you didn’t magically fix one of those Skimmers while I wasn’t looking, did you?”
He frowns at me. “You know I didn’t, Six.”
“Then we’re stuck here until reinforcements arrive. And if we’re stuck here, we’re going to fight. You get me?”
“We could run,” Adam replies, pointing to the jungle. “We don’t need a Skimmer to escape.”
“Look at it this way. Booking it into the jungle is never going to stop being an option,” I admit to him. “If the Anubis gets here and things don’t go our way, we’ll run.”
“Will we?” Adam asks, his gaze sliding off me and towards Marina. “All of us?”
I turn my head to subtly watch Marina. Her back is to us as she takes deep breaths, calming herself. She’s staring at the Sanctuary again, like she’s been doing most of the day. Marina’s developed an almost religious devotion to the old temple. I understand why—our experience with the Entity was pretty heavy, maybe more so for a girl who was raised around a bunch of nuns. Not to mention, the guy she loved is buried in there. The Sanctuary’s become both a religious symbol and a gravesite to her.
“I’ll drag her away if I have to,” I tell Adam, meaning it.
Adam seems satisfied with that answer. The frantic look he had when he berated us is gone, replaced by cold Mogadorian calculation. I never thought I’d actually be happy to see those features on someone’s face.
“I can start removing the force field cloaking modules for John and keep trying to repair the Skimmer, but neither of those things is going to help us defend this place or survive an attack by the Anubis.” He looks at me, eyebrows raised. “So, what’s our plan for not dying?”
Good question.
I take a look around. The plan aspect of this whole thing is something I’m still working out. How can we stop Setrákus Ra from doing whatever he wants to the Sanctuary? How can we even hurt him without endangering Ella? Once again, my gaze drifts towards Phiri Dun-Ra. She isn’t laughing at us anymore, instead she’s watching us like a hawk. I think of her hands, currently tied to the wheel strut behind her back, and the way they were bandaged up, the dirt-stained dressings covering electrical burns she suffered from the Sanctuary’s force field. The Mogs spent years out here, trying to force their way into the Sanctuary to earn favor with their Beloved Leader. It’s too bad we didn’t see a fuse box or control panel inside the Sanctuary to turn that force field back on.
“At least we know where he’s going,” I say out loud, still thinking. “Setrákus Ra wants inside the Sanctuary, he’s gotta come down from his big bad warship. That gives us a chance.”
“A chance to do what?” Adam asks.
“We can’t hurt Setrákus Ra without hurting Ella, which means we can’t really stop him from muscling into the Sanctuary. But if he’s got Ella and the Sanctuary, well, maybe we should take something of his.”
Adam catches on quickly. “Are you t
hinking . . . ?”
“You did mention you always wanted to fly one of those warships. Whatever Setrákus Ra wants in the Sanctuary, he won’t be able to take it anywhere,” I say, feeling the beginnings of a plan starting to take shape. “Because we’re going to rescue Ella and steal his ship.”
Our preparations begin mostly in silence, tension still in the air between Marina and Adam. We start by going through the equipment that the Mogadorians left behind. There are crates piled in one of the larger tents, a veritable arsenal of weaponry and tools that the Mogs shipped down here only to have it all break against the Sanctuary’s force field. There’s a whole array of Mogadorian blasters, but the rest of the gear appears to have been manufactured here on Earth. There are crates of weapons stamped as property of the U.S. military, mining equipment shipped from Australia and what Adam tells me are experimental EMPs covered in Chinese lettering. Adam went through this stuff earlier when he was looking for spare Skimmer parts, so he knows how it’s organized.
“We want explosives,” I tell him. “What have they got?”
Carefully, Adam moves some crates around before opening up one packed with blocks of a beige substance that reminds me of clay.
“Plastic explosives,” he says. “C-4, I think.”
“You know how to work with that stuff?”
“A little bit,” Adam replies, and starts gently pushing aside objects in the crate. Besides the C-4, there are also some wires and cylinders that I assume have some role in detonation. After a quick search, Adam smirks and holds up a small paper booklet. “There’s instructions.”
“Perfect,” Marina mutters.
“How many bombs total?” I ask.
Adam does a quick count of the clay bricks. “Twelve. But I can break them up, make them smaller if you want. The smaller the brick, the smaller the explosion, though. And we’ve only got the dozen blasting caps, so the smaller ones would need to be wired together.”
Before replying to Adam, I poke my head out of the tent and do a quick count of Skimmers parked on the landing strip. Sixteen of them, including the one Adam’s been working on and the one Phiri Dun-Ra’s tied to.