Authors: Jennifer Wilson
I dropped from the pipes, a grin passing my lips. My fingers were tingling. As I gasped for air, my lungs seemed to fill for the first time in nearly a month. My temporary euphoria was short-lived however.
Ryker was moving again. He rolled onto his side. I barely saw the crisp white of a gun’s muzzle before he fired. The sound was oddly muted in the convex room, but the searing bite in my arm was plenty real. I dove to the right, throwing myself at the nearest pile of weapons. Careful of where my body landed, I rolled twice, my fingers closing over two knife hilts as I moved. I could hear Ryker’s bullets spinning past me. The smell of singed hair burned my nostrils as one skimmed too close to my head. Ryker was getting to his feet as he continued to fire. I flung one knife as I flipped upright. He deflected it with the gun. Metal clanging against metal. But it was enough of a distraction to let me get to my feet. I hurled the second knife as I dodged sideways behind another rack of weapons and counted. One shot. Two more shots and…
Click.
He was out. I flung myself on top of the rack tipping it toward him. I clung to the falling partition until the trajectory was right and threw myself at Ryker with all of my force. We fell in a heap of punching fists and kicking legs. Something inside of me snapped and I let it go.
Everything I had suppressed when fighting those kids, all of the hate I felt for The Minister, all of the rage and distrust I was harboring for Ryker came flying loose. Suddenly he was everyone and no one. A blur of faces flashed in place of Ryker’s as we fought—The Minister, Gage, Maddox, Arstid, Ravagers, every soldier I had seen, even my own hollowed face… I wanted to kill them all. To stop the pain they had caused.
I fought blindly, striking to kill every one of them before they killed me. Our bodies collided over and over again. I could hear small bones cracking, see blood pooling but it couldn’t be stopped. My body was alive again. It was on fire and I relished in the power of it. Slowly the world seemed to be clearing and I could think again. I countered every move Ryker threw at me. Taking his blows in stride until I saw my opening.
Ryker lunged, bringing up his knee for a final blow and I parried. Using his own knee as a launching point, I vaulted myself into the air. I grabbed a fist full of his raven hair and slammed my knee into his face. His body quaked with the force and he plummeted to the floor.
I went in for the kill.
With acrobatic grace, I flipped myself behind him and pulled his arm back at an impossible angle, stopping just before the bones reached their breaking point. Anger was coursing in my veins. I pressed my lips to his ear and whispered. “I take back what I said earlier,” I pulled, feeling the bones in his arm snap. “
Now
we’re even.”
Impressively, Ryker didn’t scream but only slumped forward with a groan. I slipped my arm around his neck like an anaconda and squeezed as we slid to the floor. I could feel the racing pulse of his heart beneath my fingers and I pulled harder. His good hand clawed at my arm, but I held tight. Slowly his struggling eased. Finally, his bloody bruised hand stopped clawing and began to tap my arm.
He was conceding.
Tap, tap. I give up. Tap, tap.
A wicked grin spread across my lips and I squeezed harder until his body went limp in my arms. My mind was alive again and my instincts were flaring, whispering to me.
Kill or be killed…
I WAS STILL
feeling smug when Ryker finally began to stir. Triven was right. Fighting, surviving, feeling in control was like a drug for me. My mind was racing again. My body was tingling with excitement. For nearly a month my physical skills and my brain were withering away day by day. But in this instant, I felt like myself again. It was as if my toxic blood had been purified by the adrenaline.
Ryker coughed, rolling onto his side as he clutched his arm in pain. He glared at me. “Did you conveniently forget what conceding in a fight means?”
I tossed an ice pack and a green syringe I found in a first aid kit to him and slid down the opposite wall, careful to keep a safe ten feet between us. “No. I just wanted to prove a point.”
He sat up. With one hand, he strategically pressed the needle into his arm near the break, wincing. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth as the serum worked its magic. His foot twitched with pain for a moment before calming. Once his breathing regulated he spoke. “And your point would be…?”
“That I’m still better than you.” I dabbed my knuckles, blowing on the raw flesh when it stung. “I could feel the pulse on your neck the entire time. You were fine. But it was nice to see that smug smile wiped off your face for a change.”
He gave a low chuckle before succumbing to a coughing fit. Tossing the needle aside, he flexed his fingers gingerly, testing his newly healed arm. Once satisfied, he picked up the compress and pressed it to his bruised neck. I watched him with a cautious eye. Ryker had so many faces, so many sides that I had already witnessed. The loyal soldier. The rebel. The lost best friend. The passionate leader. The ruthless fighter. As he looked at me now, I could see every one of those personalities and yet, none of them. I couldn’t read him and it bothered me.
His piercing eyes were watching me carefully as I contemplated him. “You feel better, don’t you?”
I swallowed before answering him. “Triven was right. He understands me.”
Ryker’s face hardened infinitesimally, but I noticed.
“You know I should have killed you for the way you came after me.” Even though I felt alive again thanks to Ryker’s advances, being attacked repeatedly hadn’t endeared him to me in any way. If anything, it made me warier. For the first time since we met, neither of us had held anything back. We were well matched and equally lethal. I may have won this round, but not by much.
Ryker rolled his eyes. “Please… It’s a few bumps and bruises.”
I bristled, speaking through my teeth. “You shot at me.”
Ryker tipped sideways, scraping the nearest gun off the floor. He ignored me as I slipped a handgun from my own belt and poised to shoot him. I stayed tense as his hands quickly slid over his gun, pulling it apart. It wasn’t until the weapon was completely dismantled that I reholstered my own. He tossed something to me and I caught it. The small cylinder was cool in my skin. Uncurling my fingers, I inspected the object in my palm.
The shape was that of a bullet, but the resemblance stopped there. The casing was clear like glass, but felt like cool metal to the touch. A translucent liquid swirled in place of an ignition powder while the bullet itself was a vibrant red that shimmered slightly. I rolled it in my palm to feel the weight. It was lighter that a regular bullet too.
Ryker spoke as I inspected it. “Training ammunition. They burn like real bullets but the pain is only temporary, creating the illusion of being shot. They’ll leave a welt and singe the skin a little, but never actually break the surface. They simply incinerate on contact.”
“It wouldn’t have hurt to tell me that sooner.” I threw the bullet back to him with a little more force than necessary. He easily caught it and set it aside.
“You wouldn’t have fought as hard if you didn’t think your life was in danger.” He went back to icing his neck.
“Oh, what? Let me guess, now you’re going to tell me the knives you threw at me were merely fluffy bunnies.” I pressed my ice pack to my swelling lower lip.
“Oh no, those are real. I figured if you couldn’t dodge a few knives, then you weren’t very useful to me.”
“Ever the gentleman.” I muttered.
“Please, I didn’t try
that
hard to kill you. Or this conversation wouldn’t be happening right now.” He pulled himself up a little higher.
“What’s the matter Ryker? Upset that you still can’t beat me?” I crooned in a mocking tone. He shook his head, but I could see a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. I watched him as he inventoried his own wounds. Maybe he hadn’t fought as hard as he could have—though I doubted it—but I had. Before I regained full control of myself, I
was
aiming to kill. It was in my nature.
I glanced at the room around us. It looked like a bomb had gone off. Nearly all of the weapon stands had been knocked over, splaying artillery all over the floor. Singe marks scarred the floor and walls where Ryker had missed. My hair had come loose in a crazed array of gold and we were both nursing some rather serious wounds. I had already pulled two of my fingers back into their sockets and I was pretty sure we both had bruised, if not broken, ribs. This had not simply been a sparring match.
“How did you know that I wouldn’t kill you?”
“I didn’t.” He shrugged. “I guess I just figured you didn’t when we were kids so you wouldn’t this time either.”
“I’m not
that girl
anymore, Ryker. It would do you well to remember that.”
He merely shrugged in response, but I didn’t push it.
I glanced around the room again, as it filled with our awkward silence. Ryker got up, wincing and began to rummage in the first aid box before returning to his seat. I poked a discarded knife with the toe of my shoe. “What the hell is this place any way?”
“It was one of the city’s many safe bunkers. They were built when The Wall was still under construction. A safe place for the citizens to hide if the city was breached. Most people don’t even know they exist anymore.” Ryker leaned back against the curved wall, dabbing a towel at a deep cut on his forearm.
“I somehow doubt these have escaped The Minister’s attention.” I pressed my shirtsleeve to my lip. Still bleeding. “And I can’t really see him volunteering the space for the rebels to better hone their skills.”
He chuckled darkly, then—satisfyingly—had to clutch his ribs. “Far from it. There are fifteen of the bunkers in total. Each one is usually stocked with food and nonperishable supplies. If the city was ever breached and our blockhouses are compromised they are meant to house the most genetically prosperous people to help with re-population. Each of these people has been tagged by our system and preservation soldiers are trained to escort those chosen civilians to safety before defending the rest of our populous. Funny though… in the past ten years all of our most genetically prosperous people happen to be in The Minister’s pocket.”
“So how does he not know about this bunker?” I glanced at the door, waiting for a soldier to come crashing through.
“The Minister is overconfident about his control over the city. His doesn’t think anyone could ever breach The Wall. There are codes—like the ones on our blockhouse—that if breeched send out an alarm. Zeek has hacked this one too. The man is so good it’s a little scary. The only other security measure The Minister takes is to assign two preservation soldiers to perform basic rounds of duty. They walk the bunkers, take inventory and report back to him every other week.” He raised his eyes to meet mine. They glittered with pleasurable malice. “What he doesn’t know is that those two soldiers turned rebel over five years ago.”
“And you trust them?” I glared at him. I still didn’t trust most of the people from the Subversive, much less Ryker—who was still just a stranger from my past.
“With my life.” Ryker’s voice cooled. “We are stronger together. If we start turning on one another, he wins. I won’t let that happen. I won’t live the rest of my life under the rule of a delusional masochist.”
“Why not leave? Why don’t you just cut your losses and leave the city?” I asked.
“Why did you come back here?” He countered, his left eyebrow raised as he tilted his head. “Leaving won’t solve any problems. You can’t trade one hell for another and expect not to still burn in its fires.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Despite my desire to contradict him, I couldn’t.
“You came here to change things. To save your people, to find answers—”
I cut him off. “I don’t have people.”
Ryker appraised me. “
Everyone
has people.”
I thought of Mouse and Triven. They were my only people. But even as I thought that, the faces of Arden, Doc Porters, Maribel and Archer flashed in my mind. I shook my head, not wanting to think about the people we had left behind.
“Why do you want to save
your
people so badly?” I dropped my cold pack to better look at him. “They have sent their kids to become soldiers. They do nothing to defend themselves. It’s almost as if they don’t care. The Tribes are not the most honorable groups, but at least they are willing to fight for something.”
Ryker shook his head, as if something I had said disappointed him. “You never were much of a team player.”
He stared at me, making me squirm under his sharp gaze. A look of sincere regret touched his usually cold eyes. “I am sorry about the children recruits… It was not my idea to use them to break you. Gage compulsively watched what little video they had of the five of you when you breached The Wall. Your affection for Mouse was visible in them. It was his idea to use the children recruits to get to you.”
I pressed the icepack to my knuckles, unable to look at him. There had been something nagging at the back of mind. Something I had intuitively known but was afraid to say out loud. “He’s her brother, isn’t he?”
Ryker’s heavy sigh answered my question before his words did. “Yes. Gage is Mouse’s brother.”
I closed my eyes wishing I had never asked. But the lid was already off Pandora’s box. So I pressed further. “Their parents?”
“We don’t know,” Ryker said quietly. “Mouse and Gage were brought in from your world. They didn’t even have names. We just called them Boy and Girl. Fandrin thought if he could save and rehabilitate some abandoned children from the outside—show some compassion—it might make his people love him more. Really it was his way of hand-selecting and molding an heir from an impressionable, parentless child. Eleven other Tartarus orphans died from his so-called rehabilitation trials before he found Gage and Mouse.”
My breath felt short. My soul ached. Mouse was more of a kindred spirit than I could have ever imagined.
“Mouse never took to Fandrin. She refused to train and fought against him in every way possible. Her brother, on the other hand, did. They were both incredibly intelligent for their ages, but that’s where their similarities stopped. Gage desired only to please The Minister. He was violent, smart, and had a lust for power that rivals even Fandrin’s.” Ryker paused. “He chose his name after he passed his test of loyalty. Gage–it means pledge. Every time his name is said, it is a reminder to Fandrin that he is his loyal progeny.”
“Loyalty test?” A cold darkness crept into the back of my skull.
“I was your test. Mouse was his.” Ryker hesitated. “Unlike you, he didn’t hesitate.”
My vision went red. I had thought my hatred for that repulsive boy could not deepen, but I was wrong.
“How did she survive?” I thought of Mouse’s deep scar on her throat, her lack of voice.
“It was another rebel who checked her pulse. He lied, under my instruction. Proclaimed her dead when there was still a faint heartbeat. I had watched so many other Tartarus orphans die at The Minister’s hand and I never raised a hand to stop him. What he did was terrible, but it did distract him, and allowed the rebels more freedom. Fandrin was so busy with his progenies he failed to see the second mutiny developing under his nose. Most of the children were feral and malnourished, one foot already across death’s threshold. It was easy to tell myself death was a kinder end than sending them back to Tartarus. It was a lie though. I hated myself everyday for believing it. But with Mouse… She was so different. She…”
“She gets inside your heart.” I muttered, understanding. I loved her too.
“She does.” Ryker agreed. “I couldn’t lie to myself anymore, not with her. But I wasn’t fast enough. Our serums are not as advanced as yours. When Doc Porters left us, he took his research with him and, from what Triven tells me, he has been improving on it. Ours work in a generalized fashion, they can heal but only to a limited extent. I managed to save Mouse’s life, but Gage silenced her permanently.”
“And you expected her to survive outside? Alone?!” My temper flared again.
Ryker interjected, and he sounded equally infuriated about my accusation. “Of course we didn’t send her out there alone! What do you think we are!?”
“Monsters.” My reply didn’t miss a beat.
He snorted arrogantly.
“I sent Mouse out with two of our best soldiers. They were to protect her and search for possible reinforcements on the other side.” Ryker’s eyes darkened. “But Fandrin discovered The Wall breach. He sent the Ravagers after them. Boxer and Gains didn’t even last two days after that. If it weren’t for you, Mouse wouldn’t have lived either. Once Fandrin knew the girl was still alive he obsessed over getting her back so Gage could finish what he started. Plus, it didn’t help that the girl is extremely intelligent and knew how to get in and out of a city that was supposed to be impenetrable. That and I suppose it reminded him of losing you. Needless to say, my soldiers’ mission was a complete failure.”