I feel it then. The flicker of warning.
“Luka,” I snarl. “Now.”
I switch my weapon cylinder to my left hand, noting as I do that it melds and conforms to the slightly different shape. With my right hand, I reach back and grab the hilt of the kendo sword. The feel of the grip in my hand is familiar and comforting. This is something I know, something I can control.
I hear the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. Luka doing as I said. They’re getting away. They’re going to be okay. All I have to do is hold off the Drau, kill enough of them that the damned Committee is satisfied and pulls the others out.
Darts of light shoot past me: the Drau trying to get my team. With a kiai shout I surge forward, my blade cutting a clean sweep. The Drau in front of me freezes, then falls in two parts, the right half going to the right, the left half going to the left. I cleaved it clean in half. The sight sickens me. There’s no joy in killing a living thing.
Them or me. I have to remember that.
Panting, I spin and take the next and the next. Shards of light hit me, penetrating with a deep, burning pain. I gasp. I cry out. But I don’t fall. I shoot my weapon cylinder. I slash with my blade.
Pain and rage and all the hurts that are part of me surge to the fore, feeding my skill, making me a killing machine. But there are too many. They come too fast. I hack. I shoot. I step back. My foot slips on the stair and I stumble, terror icing my soul.
Footsteps behind me. Before I can turn, a surge of black pulses forward, taking out a Drau that was almost on me.
Jackson. My heart lightens. But when I toss a glance to my left, I see that it’s Luka beside me, watching my back. He grabs my elbow, steadying me, and I find my footing again. I’m afraid, so afraid, and I can’t tell him that, can’t let him see it.
“I told you to go.”
“We can’t leave the building until the mission’s done.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t. Physically impossible.” One more piece of information I didn’t know. I have so much to learn. I hope I live long enough to find it all out. “The others are watching the front doors, guarding our escape route,” Luka finishes.
There isn’t time to say more. A fresh wave of Drau come at us.
I hack until my arm feels like it will fall off, all my competition kendo finesse dissolving into a wretched, desperate attack. I point and shoot until I’m inured to the cries of those who are swallowed by the dark surge.
Them or me. That’s my mantra. Them or Luka, and it’s my job to keep him safe. My job to get us all out.
I’m dripping sweat as I turn a full circle and find that they’re gone. All of them, gone.
I search for the certainty that we’re about to be pulled. It isn’t there. There’s only silence and the harsh drum of my own heartbeat.
“Do we jump in thirty?” Luka asks between rapid gasps.
I shake my head. “No. There’s something wrong.” I reach back and thrust my sword down into its sheath. I check my con. “Up!”
We run, not aiming for quiet or stealth, our feet pounding on the stairs. We skid around the corner into the dim lobby. The rest of our team looks up from where they’re stationed with weapons trained at the double doors.
One thing I’ve learned about the new girls already. They follow orders and they don’t try to steal points. Neither of them hung back when I told them to go. Good to know. The idea of one of my own team not caring if she knifes the others in the back wouldn’t sit well with me.
“Trouble?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Lien says, shaking her head. “But my gut’s telling me it’s coming.”
I nod in agreement.
Then I hear it. The harsh sounds of a scuffle. A tortured human cry. My head tips back and I look up. All I see is the ceiling, but my certainty is pure and clear. We aren’t the only team in the building. And the Drau we took out weren’t the only enemy.
The place is riddled with Drau, on every level. What we encountered below was just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve been on only two missions before this, but I know that the game has changed. This is different, and it’s anything but good.
Another cry, more chilling than the last.
I look at my team and find them all watching me, waiting for guidance. “We go up,” I say, feeling sick just saying it. Knowing I might be dooming them. “There are other teams up there.”
“We’ve always worked alone,” Tyrone says. He looks at Lien. “You ever worked with another team before?”
Lien shakes her head, her face a pale oval in the dim light.
Tyrone and Luka exchange a look.
“Next stage of the Drau invasion?” I ask. The threat ramping up, just like the Committee said. A shudder shakes my spine from my tailbone to my shoulder blades.
“Not a nice thought,” Kendra whispers.
“Understatement of the century,” Luka says.
“We go up,” I say again. “I want to see everyone’s cons first.”
They hold out their wrists. Kendra’s and Lien’s are green. Tyrone’s is green with just a hint of yellow. Luka’s is yellow-green.
“Yours,” he says, when I’m done.
“What?”
“Let me see yours.” His tone brooks no argument. I hold out my wrist. Mostly yellow with just a touch of green.
He frowns, but he doesn’t say anything.
“The second you go orange, you fall back,” I say, looking at each of them in turn, remembering what Jackson told me about Richelle and what she ought to have done the night the Drau killed her. “We all get pulled together at the end of this. I’m not leaving anyone behind. I don’t know what’s waiting for us up there, and I don’t know if we’ll get separated. But my standing order is that if you go orange, it’s defensive position all the way. You hang back. You stay alive—” A horrific cry carries down from above us, making the little hairs on my forearms stand on end. “You stay alive,” I repeat.
“Luka,” I snarl. “Now.”
I switch my weapon cylinder to my left hand, noting as I do that it melds and conforms to the slightly different shape. With my right hand, I reach back and grab the hilt of the kendo sword. The feel of the grip in my hand is familiar and comforting. This is something I know, something I can control.
I hear the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. Luka doing as I said. They’re getting away. They’re going to be okay. All I have to do is hold off the Drau, kill enough of them that the damned Committee is satisfied and pulls the others out.
Darts of light shoot past me: the Drau trying to get my team. With a kiai shout I surge forward, my blade cutting a clean sweep. The Drau in front of me freezes, then falls in two parts, the right half going to the right, the left half going to the left. I cleaved it clean in half. The sight sickens me. There’s no joy in killing a living thing.
Them or me. I have to remember that.
Panting, I spin and take the next and the next. Shards of light hit me, penetrating with a deep, burning pain. I gasp. I cry out. But I don’t fall. I shoot my weapon cylinder. I slash with my blade.
Pain and rage and all the hurts that are part of me surge to the fore, feeding my skill, making me a killing machine. But there are too many. They come too fast. I hack. I shoot. I step back. My foot slips on the stair and I stumble, terror icing my soul.
Footsteps behind me. Before I can turn, a surge of black pulses forward, taking out a Drau that was almost on me.
Jackson. My heart lightens. But when I toss a glance to my left, I see that it’s Luka beside me, watching my back. He grabs my elbow, steadying me, and I find my footing again. I’m afraid, so afraid, and I can’t tell him that, can’t let him see it.
“I told you to go.”
“We can’t leave the building until the mission’s done.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t. Physically impossible.” One more piece of information I didn’t know. I have so much to learn. I hope I live long enough to find it all out. “The others are watching the front doors, guarding our escape route,” Luka finishes.
There isn’t time to say more. A fresh wave of Drau come at us.
I hack until my arm feels like it will fall off, all my competition kendo finesse dissolving into a wretched, desperate attack. I point and shoot until I’m inured to the cries of those who are swallowed by the dark surge.
Them or me. That’s my mantra. Them or Luka, and it’s my job to keep him safe. My job to get us all out.
I’m dripping sweat as I turn a full circle and find that they’re gone. All of them, gone.
I search for the certainty that we’re about to be pulled. It isn’t there. There’s only silence and the harsh drum of my own heartbeat.
“Do we jump in thirty?” Luka asks between rapid gasps.
I shake my head. “No. There’s something wrong.” I reach back and thrust my sword down into its sheath. I check my con. “Up!”
We run, not aiming for quiet or stealth, our feet pounding on the stairs. We skid around the corner into the dim lobby. The rest of our team looks up from where they’re stationed with weapons trained at the double doors.
One thing I’ve learned about the new girls already. They follow orders and they don’t try to steal points. Neither of them hung back when I told them to go. Good to know. The idea of one of my own team not caring if she knifes the others in the back wouldn’t sit well with me.
“Trouble?” I ask.
“Nothing,” Lien says, shaking her head. “But my gut’s telling me it’s coming.”
I nod in agreement.
Then I hear it. The harsh sounds of a scuffle. A tortured human cry. My head tips back and I look up. All I see is the ceiling, but my certainty is pure and clear. We aren’t the only team in the building. And the Drau we took out weren’t the only enemy.
The place is riddled with Drau, on every level. What we encountered below was just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve been on only two missions before this, but I know that the game has changed. This is different, and it’s anything but good.
Another cry, more chilling than the last.
I look at my team and find them all watching me, waiting for guidance. “We go up,” I say, feeling sick just saying it. Knowing I might be dooming them. “There are other teams up there.”
“We’ve always worked alone,” Tyrone says. He looks at Lien. “You ever worked with another team before?”
Lien shakes her head, her face a pale oval in the dim light.
Tyrone and Luka exchange a look.
“Next stage of the Drau invasion?” I ask. The threat ramping up, just like the Committee said. A shudder shakes my spine from my tailbone to my shoulder blades.
“Not a nice thought,” Kendra whispers.
“Understatement of the century,” Luka says.
“We go up,” I say again. “I want to see everyone’s cons first.”
They hold out their wrists. Kendra’s and Lien’s are green. Tyrone’s is green with just a hint of yellow. Luka’s is yellow-green.
“Yours,” he says, when I’m done.
“What?”
“Let me see yours.” His tone brooks no argument. I hold out my wrist. Mostly yellow with just a touch of green.
He frowns, but he doesn’t say anything.
“The second you go orange, you fall back,” I say, looking at each of them in turn, remembering what Jackson told me about Richelle and what she ought to have done the night the Drau killed her. “We all get pulled together at the end of this. I’m not leaving anyone behind. I don’t know what’s waiting for us up there, and I don’t know if we’ll get separated. But my standing order is that if you go orange, it’s defensive position all the way. You hang back. You stay alive—” A horrific cry carries down from above us, making the little hairs on my forearms stand on end. “You stay alive,” I repeat.
