I make out a shimmer of cobalt blue on the grassy mountainside adjacent to the falls. That’s the newly grown Loralite stone, the one our new Garde teleported in with.
And parked around it? The three Skimmers that Lexa spotted.
“You see ’em?” Lexa asks.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Not seeing any movement, though.”
“Hold on; let me enhance the image.”
I hear Lexa tap out a few commands on her console. A moment later, the view from the window blurs and then expands. Now we’re zoomed in on the Loralite stone and the ships surrounding it. The camera, which must be mounted on the underside of our ship, effortlessly tracks the stone as we glide through the air above.
“Whoa,” Daniela says. “Cool.”
Now I can make out more details of the three Skimmers. Only one of them actually looks intact, with its ramp extended and cockpit doors open. The second Skimmer has a ribbon of black smoke curling away from its engine, like something recently exploded there. And the third Skimmer is overturned on its side, half in the rushing river that leads to the falls. The ship shudders even now; any minute the current will take it over the edge.
It looks like the Mogadorians got more than they bargained for. Even so, I don’t see any signs of life below. That makes me nervous.
“How do you want to play it?” Lexa asks.
I think her question over for a second. “Bring us down in the open. Our approach wasn’t exactly subtle. Anyone with eyes probably spotted us already.”
“You’d think the Mogs would be shooting at us by now,” Sam says, frowning at the scene on screen as Lexa brings us around for a landing.
“Could be an ambush,” I say.
“Or they could’ve had more ships. Maybe we’re too late. They could’ve already nabbed these kids and jetted back to their warship,” Daniela suggests grimly.
“Let’s hope not,” I reply.
Lexa sets us down as close to the Loralite stone as possible, near the undamaged Skimmer. Now that we’re on the ground, she returns the windows to normal. Ella stares out at the glowing stone, seemingly mesmerized.
“We need to help the government secure the rest of these places,” she says after a moment. “If the Mogs find them first, the new Garde could end up teleporting right into their hands.”
“Could you make contact with them again?” I ask. “If they’re coming to fight, maybe we could tell them all to teleport here.”
Ella shakes her head. “My range isn’t that strong anymore,” she says.
“We could post it on YouTube,” Sam says dryly.
“No YouTube, ever,” I reply. “We’ll just have to trust Lawson and his people will do right by them.”
“Glad I’m with you guys and not detained,” Daniela says.
Lexa puts us on an angle so that our exit ramp will open towards the falls. That means no threats will be able to come from behind us, and we’ll be able to use the ship for cover if this is an ambush. Any Mogs looking to attack us will be coming from the small patch of evergreen forest to the north. That little forest is half-flooded by the river as it rages its way towards the falls, so we should have an advantage if we keep to the solid ground.
“Ready?” Lexa asks.
I nod, and she deploys the ramp. No one starts shooting. I’m not sure I’d hear blaster fire over the cacophony of the waterfall anyway.
“Adam should be on the comm,” I say to Lexa. “Call in, tell him we’ve arrived and see if he’s picked up any Mog chatter. Otherwise, keep the ship ready to haul ass in case we need to leave in a hurry.”
“You got it,” Lexa replies.
I extend my arm, and Regal immediately lands on my forearm, his talons careful not to clutch too tightly.
“Scout it out,” I tell the Chimæra, and he swoops away, through the exit and into the blue sky. I start towards the ramp after him, motioning to Daniela. “Come on, get up front with me. Anything that seems hostile, go ahead and turn it to stone.”
Daniela smirks, but I can tell that she’s nervous. “Let’s do this.”
With Daniela and me leading the way, we edge our way down the ramp. I glance to the side quickly, sensing motion, but it’s just Sam picking up a jagged rock from the river with his telekinesis.
He shrugs at me. “In case I need to clobber someone,” he says quietly.
Daniela’s gaze darts about as we make our way around the front of our ship and approach the burned-up Skimmer. Bandit trundles alongside us as we move slowly north. The raccoon has gotten bigger since we landed, puffed up, his claws now a vicious length. He scratches at the dirt, ready to charge at the first sight of danger. His claws kick up a chalky gray substance that I immediately recognize.
Mogadorian ash. Pretty fresh, considering it hasn’t all blown away yet. And there, next to the ash, the left-behind weapons of some killed vatborn. There was definitely a fight here, and the Mogs took casualties.
“The newbies did some damage,” I say.
“No kidding,” Sam replies, eyeing the smoking Skimmer. On closer examination, it looks like a grenade went off right in the ship’s cockpit. Something exploded, that’s for sure. I’m just not sure what.
I glance behind us and see Ella drifting away from our tight little group. She’s headed towards the Loralite stone, which would put her right out in the open.
“Ella,” I hiss. “Stay close.”
She waves at me without looking away from the stone. “I’ll be fine, Six.”
Sam and I exchange a look.
“I guess you get pretty daring when you can see the future,” Sam says.
“Or when you’ve already died once,” I reply.
Trusting that Ella can take care of herself, I lead the others cautiously towards the woods. We pass by the Skimmer that landed safely, then edge closer to the river and the Skimmer that’s been flipped into the depths. Daniela puts a hand on my arm.
“You hear that?”
At first, I don’t hear anything except the water. But then I make out a droning buzz, high-pitched and incessant. I squint at the Skimmer in the river. It looks blurry, strange somehow. . . .
Bugs. Even half-submerged in water, the Mogadorian ship is covered by a swarm of bugs. There have to be thousands of them, bees and gnats and flies and who knows what else, darting in and out of the engine vents, crawling over the armored hull. They only break away when the river water laps at them.
“The beekeeper at work,” Sam says.
“Has to be,” I agree, then motion us forward. I’m feeling a lot more confident about this mission. In fact, it doesn’t seem to be a rescue at all.
From above, ringing out over the pounding waves and the buzzing bugs, comes a piercing shriek. A falcon’s cry. Regal sending up a warning.
“The hell is that?” Daniela yelps, pointing into the sky.
From the tree line, a glowing object was just lobbed directly towards us. It floats through the air on an impossible arc—there’s telekinesis guiding it, for sure. If I had to guess, I’d say someone just tossed a pinecone at us. Except I’ve never seen one pulsing red waves of crimson energy like this one.
A vision of the blown-up Skimmer we just walked by suddenly comes to mind.
“Shoot that,” I say to Daniela.
I didn’t have to bother; she’s already on it. A silver-tinged current of energy bursts forth from Daniela’s eyes—the force of it actually looks painful, and Daniela gasps when it happens. Her aim is true, though, and the glowing pinecone is soon just a hunk of stone flying through the sky.
Not wanting to take any chances, I swat the rock down with my telekinesis. It lands about twenty yards in front of us and immediately explodes, the red energy from the charged pinecone shredding Daniela’s stone carapace. We get hit with a few pebbles, but it’s otherwise harmless. I’m not sure what the blast would’ve been like if Daniela hadn’t muffled it.
“There!” Sam yells, pointing at the edge of the woods.
I see her t
oo. The frail-looking Japanese girl from the video. She stands where the trees thin out, close to the river, shin-deep in water. She must’ve been hiding before and popped out of cover as we approached. There’s a cut above her eyebrow, and blood trickles down the side of her face. She’s scuffed up, and, on her arms, I can see the telltale burns from Mogadorian blasters. She stares at us, uncertain.
Then she quickly bends down and grabs a handful of rocks from the river. In her hands, these all start to glow.
“Don’t do that!” I shout as the girl jerks her arms back like she’s going to throw.
“Easy, Ran! Easy!” shouts a second voice. It’s the punk-looking British kid who filmed the video that brought us here. Nigel, I think his name was. He darts out of the trees, splashes through the shallow water, and grabs Ran around the waist.
Ran breaks from her attack trance when Nigel grabs her and lifts her up. The stones slip free from her hands and splash into the water. A few heartbeats later, a half dozen geysers of water explode upwards where the stones detonated.
“She makes grenades,” Sam says. “That should be useful.”
“That’s badass. Why couldn’t I get that one?” Daniela complains, rubbing her head.
Holding Ran with one arm now, Nigel waves at us. The other two—Bertrand and Fleur—cautiously emerge from the trees. They both hold Mogadorian blasters. I get a weird feeling of nostalgia looking at this ragtag group. Is this what we used to look like after surviving those early skirmishes?
“Good afternoon, alien allies!” Nigel yells cheerily, advancing towards us ahead of the others. “Bloody took you long enough.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“MARINA, I NEED YOU TO CALM DOWN.”
Probably a bad choice of words. I realize that immediately.
“Don’t tell me to calm down, John,” she replies hotly. “I wake up. I don’t know where I am. And this—this bastard is the first thing I see?”
The lethally sharpened icicle still hovers an inch from Five’s good eye. I could try to use my powers to bat it down, but it’s fifty-fifty that I could either disarm her or accidentally shove the ice right through Five’s face during the struggle. Five must know this too. He doesn’t move at all, as frozen as Marina’s weapon, his hands splayed at his sides to show he’s unarmed. Unarmed and totally naked, actually.
“You’re safe,” I tell Marina.
“Forgive me, but it does not seem that way,” Marina replies.
I glance over my shoulder. Behind me, farther down the hall, there’s a dozen heavily armed soldiers. Their guns aren’t raised. I don’t think they know what to make of this scene, but they’re still not a very welcoming sight. Nine stands a few feet ahead of them, his arms crossed, his mouth closed. I shouldn’t expect him to stick up for Five. In fact, it’s probably a show of restraint on Nine’s part that he isn’t cheering Marina on.
“We’re in a secret military base outside of Detroit,” I explain to Marina, keeping my tone neutral. “You were hurt in the battle with Setrákus Ra. I healed you, and you’ve been resting.”
“Then Setrákus Ra is still alive.”
“Yes,” I reply. “Six hurt him badly, though. He hasn’t made good on those attacks yet. We’ve got time, not much, but enough to plan our next move. . . .”
“And what about this one?” The icicle bobs in front of Five’s face for emphasis. Five flinches, the icicle dips dangerously close in response and he goes rigid once again.
“We captured Five in New York. He’s our prisoner.”
“He doesn’t look like a prisoner.”
“He was helping me with something. He’s going back to his cell now. Right, Five?”
Five’s eye flicks briefly in my direction. He swallows hard and cautiously leans his head back so that he can nod. “Yes,” he says quietly.
Marina sneers when he speaks. She turns to look at me, and I can see that, mixed with the rage and confusion that came on when seeing Five, she wants to trust me.
“Please, Marina,” I say. “I know what I’m doing.”
Slowly, she starts to lower the icicle. As soon as it’s away from his face, Five darts around it and puts me between himself and Marina. He looks at her, a mixture of fear and shame on his face, then hustles down the hallway towards Nine and the soldiers.
“Of all the horrors of war I’ve seen, this is the worst one,” Nine observes as naked Five approaches him. Some of the soldiers chuckle. I shake my head—that’s exactly the kind of comment that could set Five off.
To my relief, Five squares his shoulders and doesn’t respond. The crowd of soldiers part for him, staring and murmuring. Five ignores them all. For now, he seems content simply to return to his cell of his own volition. That’s a good thing. Maybe he’s learning to pick his battles.
“Show’s over, people!” Nine yells, waving the crowd away. He follows Five around the corner, his voice carrying as he yells at a soldier, “Do your patriotic duty and find this boy some pants!”
It’s just me and Marina now. She floats the icicle over to herself and plucks it out of the air, breaks off the sharpened tip and presses what’s left over against her forehead. She looks up at me with a shaky smile.
“I’m sorry if I reacted . . . poorly. Waking up here and seeing him, I just—I am trying not to be so . . . so vengeful.”
“You reacted like I would’ve,” I tell Marina. I nod to the chunk of ice against her head. “How are you feeling? Head still bothering you?”
“Just a little headache,” she replies. “I remember Setrákus Ra smashing me against the ground and then . . .”
“You were in rough shape,” I say. “I healed you as best I could.”
“You saved my life,” Marina says, touching my arm. “I was close to death. On the precipice. I know this for a fact.”
I raise an eyebrow at that. Marina’s right; she was barely hanging on when Lexa’s ship arrived here. The way she talks about it, though, I can tell there’s something more.
“While I was out, I dreamed about Setrákus Ra. Or, he invaded my dream. He pretended . . .” A look of deep revulsion crosses Marina’s face. She shudders. The ice chunk in her hand cracks and expands, a fresh burst of frost coating her fingers. “He took on Eight’s appearance. Tried to coax me into . . . into letting go.”
I glance over my shoulder in the direction that Five went. He mentioned a dream about Setrákus Ra as well. I guess just because he needs to recover physically doesn’t mean he can’t keep screwing with us telepathically.
“He showed up in Five’s dream too,” I tell Marina. “Asked him to give us up.”
Marina arches an eyebrow. “And did he?”
“He claims he didn’t,” I reply. I believed Five when he said he didn’t betray us, but I know that’s a stretch for Marina. “Anyway, we brought him here blindfolded. He couldn’t give us away if he wanted to.”
“Setrákus Ra must have come to me because I was vulnerable and to Five because . . . well, their history . . .” Marina pauses, thinking out loud. “Did anyone else . . . ?”
“No, I saw everyone this morning; they would’ve said something,” I tell Marina, although something nags at the back of my mind.
“So Five and I are the easy targets,” Marina says, frowning. “That is disheartening.”
“He’s desperate,” I say, although I’m not sure I entirely believe that. “He doesn’t know where we are, but we know he’s hurt, and we know where to find him. As soon as we sort some things out for the military, we’re going to West Virginia, and we’re going to finish this.”
Marina stares blankly at my mention of the military. It occurs to me how much she’s missed in the short time that she’s been unconscious. I walk her back into the medical room. There’s not a lot inside except for some cots partitioned by curtains and monitoring equipment, the place completely empty since Marina was the only patient. Now that we’re alone, I bring her up to speed. I tell her about the battle in New York, the call from the president
, the origin of Patience Creek and the appointment of General Lawson as special commander. I know what I sound like—all business, like a commander bringing a soldier up to speed—but I can’t stop myself.
Marina listens patiently, but I notice her eyes begin to narrow as she studies me closely.
“John,” she interrupts when I pause for breath. “Where are the others? Is everyone all right?”
I look down at the floor. It occurs to me then why I’ve been giving her such a detailed account. Obviously, Marina should know what’s going on with our war, but it’s more than that.
She doesn’t know.
I’m avoiding telling her about Sarah.
I haven’t had to do that yet. Haven’t had to break the news. Haven’t even actually said the words.
Marina watches me expectantly. She knows that something isn’t right.
“Sarah, she . . .” I rub my hands over my face. I can’t look at Marina when I say it, have to stare at the floor. “She didn’t make it.”
Marina covers her mouth with her hand. “No.”
“She was trying to help Six, and Setrákus Ra . . .” I shake my head, not wanting to picture it. “She saved Six, even wounded, but she lost so much blood. . . .”
Marina grabs hold of me. Her one arm goes around my shoulders, her other hand goes behind my head and she squeezes me tightly. It’s only when I feel her arms around me that I realize how tense I’ve been, so rigid that I can barely relax into the hug. This doesn’t stop Marina, though. I let out a deep breath and am surprised to hear myself shudder. It’s been so chaotic—I didn’t realize how badly I needed something like this. For a moment, I rest my forehead against her shoulder, and I feel something inside me break. My vision gets blurry, and I squeeze Marina back, probably harder than I should, although she doesn’t say anything.
I realize my cheeks are wet. Hurriedly, I let go of Marina and wipe off my face.
“God, John, I am so sorry. I am so . . .” Marina pauses and looks down at her hands. “If I hadn’t been . . . I could’ve done something. I could’ve saved her.”
“Don’t,” I reply. “Don’t even think like that. It isn’t true, and it doesn’t lead anywhere good.”