Embattlement: The Undergrounders Series Book Two (A Young Adult Science Fiction Dystopian Novel) (25 page)

41

P
anju’s
motionless body lies sprawled in a bloody swamp in the corridor. Trout kneels at her side, holding his head in his hands, his frame shuddering with grief.

I drop to the floor beside him, tears streaming freely down my face.
Why?
She had already lost so much. And now, just when we gave her another reason to hope, it’s been taken from her forever. “It’s not fair!” I gasp, between sobs. “Not after everything she went through!”

Big Ed places a hand on my shoulder and rubs it gently. “The past isn’t ours to alter. You can’t help her now. The only thing you can change is the future, for all the other Panjus.”

Trout lifts his head, a resolute look on his ashen face. “I’ll find Lyong, wherever he’s hiding, if it’s the last thing I do on this earth.”

I get to my feet wearily and take stock of the army we have amassed. Tattooed Rogues and dirt-encrusted Undergrounders, several dozen military clones busy pulling off the despised black fatigues, a small group of pale-faced scientists that Trout brought with him, and the petrified teenagers from the Intake Sektor.

“It’s time to finish this,” Trout yells over the babble of voices. He pulls out his knife and brandishes it. The blade winks in the yellowish strip lighting, and a hush falls over the crowd. “Tonight, we avenge those who have fallen.”

A rallying cheer goes up, weapons hoisted high.

I turn to Sven. “If Lyong is making his stand in the docking station, it’s because he thinks he can escape in a Hovermedes if he has to. We can’t let that happen. He’ll take Owen with him, and we’ll never see him again.”

“Knowing Lyong, he’ll do everything he can to retain the Craniopolis, and retrieve Sook,” Sven says. “Fleeing will be his last resort.”

“Keep Sook out of sight until we need him,” I say. “If the Schutz Clones overpower us, we’ll use him to strike a deal.”

“How do we get inside the docking station?” The Ghost asks.

“With these,” Trout says, tossing his pack on the floor in front of him. “We didn’t use all the explosives to blow the tunnels.”

Sven nods. “This will work. Let’s gear up and go.”

I look at Trout, the briny tang of tears prickling my nose. “For Panju,” I mouth to him.

He nods, then turns and strides purposefully after Sven into the tunnel that leads to the docking station.

I wipe the tears from my eyes and fall in behind them.

“Are you okay?” Jakob asks, coming up behind me.

I frown. “You’re supposed to be watching Nikki.”

“I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine,” I say, in a disgruntled voice. We march along in silence for a few moments.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Jakob prods.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Why did you really come? You promised you would do what needed to be done, but you didn’t return fire when we were under attack in the Research Sektor.”

“My calling isn’t to kill,” he says, quietly.

“It’s not my calling either,” I retort. “I’m doing what it takes to survive.”

“Maybe surviving isn’t everything.” He turns to me, a somber look on his face. “I have to be true to who I am.”

“It’s all about you, isn’t it?” I say, glaring at him. “
I’m
doing this for the people who can’t do it for themselves, the deviations, the prisoners, the scientists who were conscripted.”

I increase my stride and hurry after Sven. “Best get back to your babysitting,” I call over my shoulder.

Jakob hesitates, as if about to say something more, then turns abruptly and elbows his way back through the crowd. Pain sears my heart. My words were too harsh, even to my own ears. I don’t know if I’ll ever see Jakob again, and this isn’t the last conversation I want to remember having with him.

Halfway down the last tunnel leading to the landing dock, Sven motions to us to halt. He consults briefly with Trout and then walks up to me. “Trout’s offered to set the explosives on the entry doors.”

“Let him do it,” I say. “He needs this right now. Panju’s death hit him hard.”

We watch him until he disappears around the bend. He’s holding it together, at least for now. I’m not sure what will happen if he gets his hands on Lyong. Minutes tick by before we hear the sound of his footsteps returning.

“Cover your ears,” he says, jogging up to us. “The doors will blow in about five minutes.” He makes his way back through the ranks, alerting the others as he goes.

I check my weapon one last time and run my fingers over the extra clip in my jacket pocket, and my just-in-case knife. It’s no Schutzmesser, but it’s saved me before in a couple of dire situations. I glance around at the hollowed-out faces around me. Brows trenched with fear, veins taut with grim determination. I turn from them with a heavy heart, and wait, stiff-backed and soaked with sweat, anticipating the dull boom that will be our beckoning war drum.

I keep my eyes planted forward, but Sven’s muscled shoulders shield me from what lies ahead. It’s a short distance from here to the docking station where, once again, Owen's life hangs in the balance. Only this time, I won’t leave without him. Fear prickles my skin like icy dew. I don’t want to lose anyone else here today, but it’s inevitable. Someone will pay the ultimate price for victory. Panju already has.

A flat, short bang echoes through the Craniopolis. I lurch forward, limbs flailing. A pressure wave ripples through the tunnel and I hear the unmistakeable sound of debris raining down.

“Now we attack!” Sven shouts to us.

Bodies slam into mine, dragging me with them as they charge forward, yelling in my blocked ears. Surging as one chaotic wave, we round the bend toward the docking station. The crackle of gunfire greets us.

My face is warm and pulsing with blood, my lungs filled with a sense of power, my heart with renewed purpose. Juiced with adrenalin, I fire back undaunted at the advancing regiment of black fatigues.

Shells and bullets fly all around me, but I don’t falter, even as my nostrils fill with the scent of smoke and death. I’m propelled by a sense of fatalistic abandon. At my feet the wounded crawl behind whatever they can find for protection. The Rogues attack like wild dogs, savage and undisciplined. The Schutz Clones respond with emotionless accuracy. I’ve never felt so much hope and terror all at once. An intense longing for everything I miss about the world up top comes over me. The smell of canyons soaked in the perfume of wildflowers, Tucker’s hot breath on my neck. I blast my way into the docking station, weaving in and out between Hovermedes, ducking behind parts carts and tool benches, unloading endless rounds into the black wave of fatigues that keeps coming.

When my magazine clicks empty, I dive behind the wheel of a Hovermedes to regroup. Buck stares blankly at me, his rifle limp in his hands, the body of his brother, Elijah, prostrate beside him. I give him a quick shove to jerk him from his stupor and return him to the rhythm of the battle. “Focus!” I say, as I insert a fresh magazine. His eyes lock with mine momentarily, then he turns and resumes firing. Between us we take down an entire line of advancing Schutz Clones.

I roll back behind the wheel and take a quick breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of The Ghost and Blade and several other Rogues perched atop a neighboring Hovermedes brazenly picking off the Schutz Clones. My courage soars. The Rogues will never give up. I flip around and fire at a handful of advancing Schutz Clones, almost jumping out of my skin when Sven rolls in beside me.

“I’ve found Lyong,” he gasps.

“Where?” I throw a frantic glance around the room.

“Retreating to the back of the hangar, concealed inside a squad of Schutz Clones.”

Sven signals up to The Ghost, and he turns and scans the length of the hangar, then gives a thumbs up.

“He’s spotted him,” Sven says. “But he can’t get a clean shot.”

“Where’s Sook?” I ask.

“I hid him behind a parts cart.”

For the next few minutes we focus on picking off the remaining Schutz Clones. “We’re decimating them,” Sven says. “That’s why Lyong retreated.”

“But he hasn’t surrendered yet,” I say, lining up another shot.

A loud creaking echoes through the docking station. My stomach plummets when the roof of the docking station suddenly swings open. “He’s trying to escape!” I yell. “We have to stop him!”

We motion to the Undergrounders and Rogues to press in and advance down the length of the hangar toward the last Hovermedes. We exchange sporadic gunfire with the remaining Schutz Clones, but there aren’t enough of them left to keep up a sustained fight. I race toward the squad of eight Schutz Clones who stand at attention in a perfect square by the last Hovermedes.

“Hold your fire!” I yell to the others, as I come to a halt. I can’t risk Owen being hit by a stray bullet if he’s with Lyong. I walk slowly toward the squad of Schutz Clones, lined up like moulded statues. They part like a wave when I approach. I hesitate, unsure of Lyong’s intent. He stands at the bottom of the steps to the Hovermedes, an unnerving smile painted on his thin lips.

“It’s over, Lyong,” I shout up to him. “Tell your bodyguards to drop their weapons.”

His smile dissipates, but he doesn’t respond. He motions to the Schutz Clones, and I watch, dumbstruck, as they promptly lay their weapons at their feet. My skin tingles with icy apprehension. What is Lyong playing at? The Undergrounders silently collect the Schutz Clones’ weapons and pass them back through the ranks. Lyong lifts a crooked finger and beckons to someone shielded from view by the Schutz Clones. My heart pulses at the back of my throat, choking off my air supply. I let out a gasp when Owen steps into view. He walks up to Lyong, then turns and faces us.

“Owen!” Nikki yells, shoving past me. I grab her by the elbow and yank her back.

“We can still make the trade,” I call up to Lyong. “My brother’s life for your son.”

Lyong smoothes a hand over the few remaining tufts of hair on his head. “Regrettably, that is no longer a possibility.” He clicks his fingers, and a Schutz Clone steps forward, arms held out in front of him. Lyong gestures at him, and he turns and faces me. My hand shoots to my mouth. Sook’s body dangles from his arms.

Lyong clicks his fingers again and the Schutz Clone marches up the steps into the Hovermedes with Sook’s body. A second Schutz Clone follows, escorting Owen by the arm.

“You have sacrificed my son,” Lyong says, and now I am taking your brother as payment.”

42


N
o
!” Nikki screams.

Owen hesitates on the steps, then turns toward her, a stricken look on his face. The Schutz Clone grabs him and pulls him inside the ship. Lyong casts a lingering look of venom our way, then follows them.

My brain fogs over as the door to the Hovermedes closes over Owen for a second time.

I finger the trigger on my gun, but before I can make a move, Nikki blasts the side of the ship with a hail of bullets, then swings her gun around to the remaining Schutz Clones still standing to attention, a half-crazed look on her face.

“No!” Jakob shouts, throwing himself in front of her. “There’s been enough killing. It won’t change anything now.”

The Hovermedes powers up, and hovers several inches off the ground. My heart trips. If Lyong gets away, I’ve failed. Everything I’ve accomplished here will mean nothing if I can’t save Owen. I exchange a desperate look with Trout. There will be no justice for Panju either.

“Lyong won in the end,” Nikki sobs, burying her head in Jakob’s chest.

I watch helplessly as the ship ascends through the roof, desperate to think of some way to stop this nightmare from happening. Then it hits me. I turn to Sven, my heart racing. “Do you still have Won’s remote?”

His eyes widen. He throws his pack down on the ground and thrusts his hand inside. His eyes glitter with a hint of satisfaction as he pulls out a slim black box. “I knew that wretched little man would serve some purpose, even if it is a posthumous gesture.”

“He’s getting away!” I say, glancing anxiously at the ascending Hovermedes.

“I don’t know if this will work,” Sven says. He punches something into the remote, his face creased in concentration.

Moments later, the Hovermedes whirs to a halt. Sven’s fingers fly over the remote again, and then relief breaks out over his face.

I watch in astonishment as the ship gradually sinks back down to the hangar floor. I raise my weapon and take aim, my pulse thudding in my ears. The Schutz Clones exchange uncertain looks and back away.

Sven taps a button on the remote and the pneumatic door on the side of the ship slides open. “And to think Lyong never even knew this existed,” he says in a hushed tone.

I wait for what seems like an eternity before a figure appears in the entry. A sob of relief rips up my throat.
Owen!
A part of me had feared the worst, that Lyong would kill him out of spite.

Owen slowly descends a step, and that’s when I see the muzzle behind him. I breathe slowly in and out, woozy with terror. Lyong has no intention of surrendering.

“I could take that shot,” Nikki whispers in my ear.

“No!” I lay a restraining hand on her. “Not while he has a gun on Owen. It’s too risky.”

“Sven!” Lyong calls out. “You always were one of my finest creations. Superior in so many ways. I know you’re behind this little fiasco somehow.” He takes a long, rasping breath. “Come with me now, and I will give you what you want.”

“What do you know about what I want?” Sven says.

“You want to live.” Lyong takes a step forward, still pressing the gun to the back of Owen’s head. “I have resolved ossification. I can give you the DNA sequence you need to live a normal life.”

A sheen of sweat breaks out on Sven’s forehead.

“He’s lying,” I say, gripping him by the arm. “He’ll say anything. He’s desperate.”

Sven’s fingertips sweep lightly across mine, and then he pulls himself abruptly away. He hands off his gun to Trout, then shoulders his way through the Schutz Clones and stops a few feet from the Hovermedes. “Let Owen go,” he says. “I’ll take his place.”

My knees almost buckle beneath me. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The docking station spins, colors swirl and merge, voices ebb and flow. My brain chokes on chaotic thoughts. Why is Sven doing this? For my sake? Or does he really believe Lyong can help him?

Lyong indicates his acceptance of Sven’s offer with a patronizing tilt of his head. Sven squares his shoulders, eyes forward, and makes his way over to the Hovermedes.

“Excellent choice,” Lyong says, shoving Owen down the stairs.

“Slowly, one step at a time,” he adds, training his gun on Sven. “And toss me the remote.” He catches it and pockets it, without taking his eyes off Sven.

When Sven reaches the last step, two Schutz Clones secure his hands behind his back. They’re obviously not military clones. Lyong must have hand-picked the Schutz Clones he brought with him.

My throat constricts with fear. Lyong will kill him, no question, once they’re airborne. Sven sabotaged the entire facility on our behalf, risked his life for us several times. I can’t let him take the fall for the mission I initiated. I glance over at Nikki and signal with my eyes for her to take the shot.

She inclines her head and takes aim. My breath freeze-dries in my throat. I hope it’s the right decision. There’s a chance she could end up killing Sven. There’s a beat of silence and then a single crack. I jerk upright, my spine electrified.

Lyong collapses on the top step of the Hovermedes. Instantly, the Schutz Clones draw their Schutzmesser and surround him. One of them reaches down and scoops Lyong up in his arms.

Owen stands stock still at the bottom of the stairs, a look of utter incomprehension on his face. Nikki runs toward him and wraps him in her arms, wailing. I propel myself forward, my legs shaking beneath me. When I reach him, Owen clasps my fingers and squeezes them. His hand is rough and warm, so different to the clammy grip of his dying touch the last time I held him.

When he releases me, I turn to the crumpled figure in the Schutz Clone’s arms. Lyong’s glassy eyes latch onto me. He’s twitching, barely alive. He beckons to me, struggling to speak.

The others come alongside me as I edge closer to hear what he’s trying to say.

“I have … a confession,” Lyong rasps. He makes a gargling sound at the back of his throat. I stare in disgust at the wrinkled yellow bag of skin he has become in his dying throes. I don’t care about his confession, or any last requests he might have.

“You lost,” I say, leaning over him. “Every despicable thing you ever did dies here with you today.”

Lyong rakes his eyes over me, splits his lips in a shade of a grin before they clench in pain. “You haven’t … won … the war,” he wheezes. “Only … liberated … an outpost.” He contorts, clutches at air, then flops to one side.

My heart melts inside me.
Outpost
? My eyes seek out Big Ed’s for reassurance.

He furrows his brow, a flicker of fear in his face.

The Schutz Clones close in around Lyong’s body in a tight protective circle, knives glinting. The Undergrounders and Rogues train their weapons on them.

“Give us our master’s body and safe passage,” one of the Schutz Clones says, “and we will release Sven to you.”

My heart thumps in my chest. I can’t sacrifice Sven, no matter what terms we’re forced to agree to. A handful of Schutz Clones making their escape is a small price to pay. And Lyong’s body is not exactly a souvenir I care to keep.

“You have my word,” I say. “Bring Sven down here first.”

A moment later Sven is dragged down the stairs, escorted by the same two Schutz Clones who hauled him up there moments earlier. My heart thuds beneath my ribs. The Schutz Clone carrying Lyong’s shriveled frame disappears inside the ship, and the rest of them sheath their knives and file in after him. One of the Schutz Clones guarding Sven shoves him unceremoniously onto his knees, before following the others inside. I pull out my knife and free Sven’s hands.

The retractable door on the side of the Hovermedes slides shut and we watch in silence as the coffin ship bearing Lyong’s remains ascends into the air and disappears. I can’t help wondering where the Schutz Clones will take him.

I turn around and address the scientists. “What did he mean about this being only an outpost?”

The air fills with unease. A low murmuring builds.

“Someone must know what he was talking about.”

A swarthy scientist with a beaked nose and a prominent mole on his left cheek jerks his head around like a jittery bird, then takes a hesitant step forward. “I intercepted an encrypted transmission to Lyong a year ago.”

“What kind of transmission?”

The man stares straight ahead, bunching up the muscles in his jaw. “It came from a ship.”

I frown. “You mean a Hovermedes?”

He runs a hand nervously over his jaw. “No. A space ship. Big enough to house several hundred thousand people.” He wets his lips. “I tracked its magnetic path. It circles the globe monitoring outposts and clone production.”

I stare at him, my mind exploding. Surely there can’t be more places like this. But why would he lie about it? He has nothing to gain now that he’s at our mercy.

My brain pounds against my skull. If it’s true, the Sweepers’ reach goes beyond what any of us could have imagined. I thought we had saved the world tonight, but what if we only woke the dragon?

“Who was the transmission from?” I ask.

The scientist darts a glance around the transfixed faces, then locks his gaze on me. “The sovereign leader.”

END OF BOOK TWO

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