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It’s as futile as before.
“Use your illusionist powers,” Valerian mutters at the screen. “He’s alone.”
The guard must realize the same thing. An arc of energy hits the orc on the head, halting him in his tracks.
The orc looks around in confusion. Then, seemingly recovering, he runs right into the nearby wall, bloodying his forehead.
He does this over and over, until he drops to the floor.
I guess that’s the silver lining of the fact that the Overtaken feel no pain. They can clobber themselves like that.
Meanwhile, on the larger section of the screen, another big orc jumps out of the gate. Then another. When there are four of them, they rush the guards.
Two orcs get chopped into pieces with the swords, but two make it through.
Again, they run for the Escapist side of Soma, where the guard who just defeated their big cousin bravely faces them.
Jaw clenched tight, he shoots them with his mojo.
Nothing happens.
“His powers won’t work against the two,” Valerian says despairingly.
Realizing the same thing, the guard flings his useless gun at the nearest orc’s head.
It doesn’t slow his onslaught in the least.
Grabbing the guard by his throat, the orc squeezes his green fingers.
“Fight, Jahi!” Bebe yells, her eyes glued to the small screen.
But Jahi’s kicks make no impact on his bulky attacker, and he slumps into a dead heap at the orcs’ feet.
Jumping over Jahi’s body, the orcs run into the building, and an ashen Bebe turns the controls again, switching the camera view to the inside.
Huge eyes shining like flames, the orcs break into the first apartment.
There’s a family inside—a mother, father, and two children—hooked up to the machines the way my twin was.
I want to look away, but something forces me to keep on watching.
At my side, Asha is weeping quietly, her hand covering her mouth.
One by one, the orcs choke the parents, then the children.
“Put me under,” Asha says frantically, stretching out on the floor. “I need to see what’s taking Kojo so long.”
I move to do it, but Maxwell gets to her first, swiftly sending her into REM sleep.
On the bigger screen, the guards put down two more waves of the Overtaken.
Bebe rounds on Idi. “We need to warn my people. The guards may not be able to contain this.”
He nods tersely as I stare at my grandmother. “Bebe, are you Soma’s leader?”
She gives me a distracted glance. “I’m the Elder. Idi here is my second-in-command.”
Aha. That’s why she was able to override security cameras willy-nilly. But there’s no time to dwell on it because a group of naked Overtaken exit the gate on the screen.
In a flash, they turn into wolves and leap at the guards.
Idi thrusts a microphone-like device into Bebe’s hands.
Her spine turns ramrod straight as she lifts the device to her mouth. “Citizens of Soma.” Her voice booms out of the ceiling in the room—and presumably everywhere. “We are under attack.”
I stop paying attention to her as the fight on the screen escalates.
Though the guns do work on the werewolves, the canine Overtaken are just too fast. In an eyeblink, ten guards are ripped into shreds.
At the sight of the massacre, tears stream down Bebe’s face, but her voice doesn’t waver as she explains the situation to the rest of Soma.
The remaining guards on the screen finally contain the werewolves, but at a cost. Their perimeter is noticeably sparser.
“—Soma shall prevail,” I catch Bebe saying before she hands the microphone back to Idi.
Asha suddenly sits up, cursing—and Kojo jackknifes to his feet, talking over her.
“Speak one at a time,” Bebe orders. “What happened?”
Kojo moderates his tone. “They refused to believe us. They won’t wake up.”
“More like won’t face reality,” Asha says, jumping to her feet. “Even to save their lives.”
Bebe looks like she’s aged another couple of years during that exchange. “So be it. The guards will do the best they can for them.”
As if to illustrate, two guards armed with swords attack the orcs on the smaller screen.
Kojo and Asha stare at the larger screen with despair and fury.
One of the Overtaken that’s not an orc remains standing when a guard shoots him. Two more guards aim at him, but also fail to bring him down.
A female guard dives out of the perimeter, slashing her sword at the stubborn invader. The blade enters the Overtaken’s shoulder—but comes out on the other side as if he were made of vapor.
“A chort,” I say, watching in horror. “They can phase.”
The female guard must realize this too, because she retreats. Only it’s too late. The chort kills her with a single touch, then grabs her sword and tosses it to the next person who steps out of the gate.
I gawk at the newcomer.
Those symmetrical masculine features and strong dark eyebrows are unmistakable.
It’s Rattie—the person who was secretly the Nutcracker, a dreamwalker I vanquished in the dream world and thus made homicidally insane.
