AllFreeNovel
Share Us
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.”
