Alternity (28 page)

“Wait,” I say. “We’d better close the door.”

He agrees, shuffling over and slamming it shut. He presses his thumb against the sensor to lock it up from the inside. “There,” he says. “Now no one can disturb us.”

“Excellent,” I say, though not for the reason he assumes. I smile coyly and beckon him back to me. He complies eagerly, putty in my hands.

I pull his pants down to his ankles, leaving him fully exposed. Then I rise to my feet and kiss him again, trying not to gag. As he leans forward to deepen the kiss, I bring up my knee and slam it as hard as I can into his groin. He doubles over in a mixture of shock and pain. I follow with an uppercut to his jaw and his head flails backward. He trips over his pants and crashes to the floor. I slam my heel into his stomach, and he bellows in rage. Luckily, as he so proudly told me during my first visit here, the walls are soundproof.

I grab a vase off the dresser, ready to slam it over his head and render him unconscious. He’s too quick, rolling to one side to avoid the blow. He grabs my ankle and pulls it out from under me, knocking me onto my backside. Before I can scramble to my feet, he’s whipped out his knife. My element of surprise is gone. He’s ready now. It’ll be a fair fight from here on out. I hope the preliminary injuries slow him a bit; otherwise I’m outmatched.

“I knew this had to be a trick,” he growls, waving the knife at me. “I’m going to gut you, bitch,” he says. “And crucify your body for every Dark Sider to witness before I kill them all.”

I jump to my feet, assuming a battle stance, hands in front of my face. “Go ahead,” I challenge. “I’d like to see you try.”

Luckily, he appears more interested in personal revenge than calling for backup. He’s sure he can best me; after all, he has the weapon. I wait for him to charge, which he does, bellowing in rage, then roundhouse kick with my back leg, making contact with his hand. The knife he holds slices the side of my foot, but the impact causes it to go flying. Now he’s unarmed.

At first I think he’ll dive for the weapon, but instead he comes after me—throws his entire weight into it. I lose my balance and crash to the floor. He pins me there, clamping my neck between his hands and squeezing down on my carotid. I can’t breathe. I grab his wrists, desperately trying to pull his hands away, but I’m not strong enough, especially with my breath cut off. My vision starts to grow spotty; I’m going to pass out. I struggle to stay focused, to remain in control—to black out will be to sign my death warrant.

It’s then that I remember Thom’s gift. I drop my hands, grab the razor from my pocket, and use it. I manage to slice into my attacker’s stomach. He bellows in surprise and pain, staggering backward and thankfully letting go of my neck. I pull my knees out from under him and kick my feet forward, slamming them into his chest and knocking him back. I leap forward, on top of him now, straddling him, my razor inches from his face.

“Don’t move,” I tell him. “Or I will stab this blade right into your eye.”

“Killing me will do no good,” he growls, but he drops his hands to his side.

“I’m not going to kill you,” I say. “I’m going to take your thumbprint.”

His eyes widen as he realizes the meaning of my words. I grab his thumb and take a deep breath. I remind myself that, gruesome as this is, the bastard will live and the skin will heal. He likely deserves much worse.

I swallow hard and ready the blade. Then I slice. Blood covers the razor, pooling, making it difficult to make my cut. I have to be accurate, the Eclipsers warned, or the function will be cancelled. Duske’s writhing body increases the difficulty.

“Stop squirming,” I command. “Or I’ll kill you and take this anyway.”

He stops his movements, his face white. I take the opportunity, before he changes his mind, and I slice fast, hard. A moment later I have the invaluable flap of skin separated from his body. I take the other thumbprint too, rendering him unable to leave the locked room. Then I crawl off him. He sits up, looking dizzy, trying to stop the bleeding by pressing his bloody thumbs into his shirt.

“It’ll heal,” I say. “You’re lucky I’m so merciful.”

“You won’t get away with this,” he growls.

“You keep saying that,” I note. “But I don’t really see how you’re going to stop me.” I scramble to my feet, grabbing his knife off the floor. “I’m leaving now,” I inform him. “Perhaps at some point you’ll be rescued. Though it’s a shame this house is so big and no one knows where you are. It may take them a while to find you.”

Duske spits at me. I shake my head.

“Such manners,” I tsk at him. “And here you’re supposed to be the politician.” I press his bloody skin against the sensor. It beeps and the door slides open. I throw Duske a grin. “Thank you so much for loaning me your keys,” I say as I exit the room. “I’ll be sure to put them to good use.”

NINETEEN

Back at the Eclipsers’ underground headquarters back on Stratum Two, I triumphantly present my souvenirs to the rebels. I’m the big hero, as you can imagine. But no one’s more excited than Dawn. Though I get the feeling that it’s nothing to do with Duske’s thumb.

He scoops me up in his strong arms and twirls me around, then sets me down and plants an enthusiastic kiss on my lips. “I didn’t breathe the whole time you were gone,” he whispers fervently.

“Trying to conserve air?” I tease. “That’s very noble of you, Brother Dawn.”

He laughs. “You know what I mean.”

I do. And it warms me inside to realize how much he cares. We’re a team now, fighting for a cause bigger than us. It’s exhilarating.

“I still can’t believe I pulled it off,” I comment as we join the rest of the Eclipsers at the conference room table. I’d handed off the thumb to one of the Dark Sider technicians who was now working to upload the print data into the computer and craft a less bloody simulation.

“But you did. And now we can fight back. Get the clean air flowing again,” Ruth says, her voice bursting with pride.

“We’ll show the Circle they can’t mess with the Eclipsers,” Hiro chimes in. Everyone applauds.

“So, what’s the next step?” I ask, after the cheering fades. “Once the simulation is done?”

“Long ago, one of our spies managed to steal blueprints of the bunker,” Ruth says, pulling a set of prints from a metal tube and rolling them out on the table. “We’ve had them on file forever, with no way to make use of them.” She looks up at me. “But thanks to you, that’s all changed.”

I study the prints. The place is huge, bigger than I’d imagined. Full of twisty passageways, seemingly without rhyme or reason. Ruth points out the physical plant, where the mechanisms needed to restore the fans are located. “That’s where you need to go,” she says.

“Got it,” Dawn says after a few moments of study. “I’ll head out as soon as the technicians are finished with the key.”

I look at him in surprise. “You’re going?” I ask, suddenly realizing I’d never thought about who would actually do the rest of the dirty work.

He nods. “It only makes sense. I’m an nT, just like the guards inside. I’m the only one with the strength to overpower them, if need be. Plus, I have the skills to reprogram the ventilation system and recode it.”

“But …” I stammer. “But I don’t want you to—”

“Risk my life for the cause like you did?” Dawn finishes my sentence with a pointed look. “Sorry, but there’s no other way.”

“Well, then, I’m going with you,” I say, determined. No way am I letting him risk his life alone.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s too risky.”

“Tough luck. I’m not letting you out of my sight again, Dawn Grey,” I say. “And besides, I can be useful. You need someone as a lookout while you do your reprogramming thing.”

Dawn scrubs his face with his hands. “You’ve been in enough danger already—”

“And look at me! I’m completely unscathed. Don’t be pigheaded. You know we have a better chance doing this together.”

“She’s right, Brother,” Ruth interrupts. “And you should know better than to let your personal attachments interfere with the cause.”

“Besides, with her sword skills, she’ll be very useful to have,” adds Hiro. “After all, back in her school days she was a legend. No one could touch her.”

Dawn releases a sigh and holds up his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine,” he says. “I can see I’m not going to win. As usual.” He turns to me. “It’s not that I don’t admire your bravery, you understand,” he says. “I just can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

I lean over to kiss him on the cheek. “I’ll be with you,” I remind him. “You can keep me safe.”

He smiles and kisses me softly on the mouth. “That’s true. And I promise to protect every little hair on your head.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Ruth clears her throat. We jerk apart, red-faced. I giggle, for once not at all embarrassed by the PDA.

“Brother Thom was able to obtain a couple of uniforms,” Kayce adds. “Like what the nT workers wear inside. So as long as you keep a low profile, you should be able to fit in.”

A knock sounds on the door and a technician steps inside. He presents the thumb simulation to us. “All done,” he says proudly. “You’re now in possession of the most powerful key in all of Terra.”

“Great,” I say, grabbing the simulation and affixing it to my thumb. “Let’s go save the world.”

*

I swallow hard as the bunker door slides shut behind us, sealing us in with a loud, echoing clang. We’re in. I grab for Dawn’s hand, needing to draw from his strength, to hold on to something steady and solid and unwavering for at least a moment before we begin our quest.

But I realize even Dawn is shaking.

It’d been easy to enter the place. Almost too easy, in fact. Using the thumb imprint, we were able to deactivate the sensors to get up to Stratum One and to the bunker itself. Once there, we neutralized the guards at the back entrance with injections Kayce had cooked up. Once they were rendered unconscious, we dragged them back behind a nearby trash bin and then used the thumb simulation to activate the lock. Security seemed almost lax, especially for a building of this importance. But I guess when you only have a few thumbs in the whole world keyed to enter, you don’t need an army to guard the door.

Dawn points to security cameras slowly panning back and forth every few yards down the long hallway. Thank goodness we have uniforms. I’ve also drawn a rough rendition of the blueprints on my palm. Last thing we need is to get caught whipping out a map.

I study my hand for a moment, then point down the hallway. “This way,” I whisper to Dawn. “We’ll take our third left.”

Dawn nods and follows me down the hall. We walk slowly, our faces turned downward, to minimize risk of recognition by whoever’s monitoring the cameras. Of course, according to Ruth, everyone in here is an nT, born and raised on the inside. They’ve never seen a news feed and thus would never be able to recognize Terra’s most notorious rebel and her boyfriend. But you can never be too careful.

We turn left, into an identical featureless hallway stretching off into infinity. A few uniformed workers pass us, nodding a slight greeting and mumbling “Brother, Sister,” as they walk by. I exhale. Our costumes and demeanor are evidently passable to the worker drones.

“These are newer models—much less human than I,” Dawn observes. “I’d heard this was happening. The government’s replaced the reasoning center in their brains with a superior work ethic. They can’t think for themselves. They only have time for their work.”

“How sad,” I whisper back. “Though, I guess they aren’t thinking enough to feel sadness. Maybe they’re completely content. But still …”

“I guess it makes sense that the government wants to replace the Dark Siders with these models,” he says. “They’ll produce more and never demand fair treatment. Never fight back, never rebel. They’re dream employees.”

“But to massacre people and replace them with drones?” I say, cringing at the idea of it. “It’s just not right. We can’t let that happen.”

“We won’t,” Dawn says, stealing a glance at me. “That’s why we’re here.”

I throw him a small smile, hoping he’s right. It all seems so big, so elaborate. How can a ragged band of rebels stop a government as cruel and powerful as this?

I shake my head. No time to think of the big picture. Not now. Win the battle before taking on the war. If we pull this off, it’ll be a major coup—a victory for the Dark Siders and a way for them to regain some independence. We must stay focused, accomplish our mission, and arrive home safe. Then we can worry about the rest.

We trudge farther down the passageway, following my hand-drawn maps, making various twists and turns until we finally come to the room we’ve been searching for. The place is filled with high-tech machinery, and monitors everywhere are blinking with red, green, and yellow lights. I’m glad Dawn’s here with me; I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“Go for it,” I whisper, poking him in the side. “Work your magic.”

Dawn nods, keeping his head down, so as to not alert the drones inside the room. Luckily, as the others had, they barely acknowledge our presence as we head to the back of the room. Dawn locates an unattended computer and takes a seat in front of it. His face is tense, anxious, as his fingers swiftly dance across the keyboard. His brow furrows.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s just a little more complicated than I thought it would be.” He types a few more command lines. I scan the room. We haven’t been noticed yet. That’s good. Though, odd, really. Eerie. I mean, I know there’s a skeleton crew on because it’s nighttime, and I know that the crew is made up of nearly mindless bioworkers, but still. There’s just something strange about two people being able to waltz into a high-security government facility and mess with whatever we want with little interruption.

“Hurry,” I hiss at Dawn as he slips a small flash drive into a terminal. A horrifying thought occurs to me. What if they know we’re here? What if they’re watching us as we speak, lulling us into a false sense of security before they pounce? I glance up at one of the cameras that silently scans the room. Who is on the other side of the lens watching?