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Authors: Sophie Davis

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BOOK: Created (Talented Saga)
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“Talia, Talia, Talia,” he moaned my name over and over again.

“I’m right here,”
I promised him. Fresh tears poured down my face and dripped from my chin.
“I love you.”

“Go, Talia,” Frederick ordered.
I didn’t want to leave Erik. He needed me. Frederick must’ve seen the hesitancy on my face. “We won’t make it out of here if you don’t cover us,” he said gently. I knew he was right, but I almost didn’t care. I just wanted to touch Erik, be close to him.

I kissed Erik’s forehead, tasting the blood from his cut.
Then I turned and went to check the main room. Marcel, Janelle, and Jared were attempting to break down the other cell doors.

“Stand back,” I ordered and concentrated my energy.
Four doors burst apart in unison, just as Erik’s had done. Prisoners stumbled out of the rooms in varying states of disarray. Some were just dirty and frail, but others sported bruises and cuts of various ages. All looked dazed and disoriented.

Jared offered one of his spare weapons to a man clad in a dingy gray jumpsuit with a number stamped on the front, who he addressed as Tad.
Janelle began unsheathing knives from her belt and handing them out like party favors to all of our new recruits. I wasn’t sure whether any of them were Coalition soldiers, but she didn’t discriminate.

My earpiece crackled to life around my neck, and I expected to hear Brand screaming angry nothings at me.
“Alpha team, I need an ETA,” came a woman’s distant voice. “I’m in position above Echo tower. Enemy is launching a counter airstrike. I can’t hold the position long. Repeat, I can’t hold the position long.”

I looked to Janelle, Marcel, and Jared for guidance.
Janelle touched her earpiece. “Donna, we’re on our way now. Five minutes. Can you hold for that long?”

“Affirmative.
Five minutes,” Donna responded.

Janelle turned to Jared.
“You and Marcel take the prisoners and head to the roof. I’ll stay behind with Talia in case there’s company. Get everyone on the hover.”

Jared and Marcel both nodded and headed for the stairwell.
I watched the group of vagabond soldiers go. None of them appeared to be in shape for a fight, but they were determined; I felt that radiating off of all of them. Hopefully, they wouldn’t encounter any trouble between here and the roof.

Frederick and Crane emerged from the cell with Erik still between them.

“Let’s head for the roof.” Crane looked at me. “Talia, you take lead. Janelle, cover us from behind.”

I nodded.
This arrangement was not ideal. With Frederick and Crane indisposed, Janelle and I would be the only defense. Unfortunately, this was our only option.

The five of us moved as quickly as we could manage up the stairs.
I expanded my senses again so I’d be alerted at the first sign of company. Faint screams were coming from somewhere deep within the walls. I stopped at the first landing and closed my eyes to better focus my energy and locate the source.

“What is it?” Crane asked from somewhere below me.

“I hear someone,” I replied, without opening my eyes. “Not guards,” I added quickly. “I … I think it’s another prisoner.”

“There are a lot of other prisoners. We don’t have time to get them all,” Frederick grunted.

I nodded. He was right. The deal had been for Erik and Crane’s people, nothing more. I started climbing to the next level. The screams grew louder, the words more distinct. I wanted to block them. Guilt at leaving this person behind was eating away at my gut. He, and I knew it was a “he” by the timbre of his voice, didn’t deserve to spend the rest of his life in prison. He chanted his name over and over again, and there was no longer a choice for me. I had to free him. I owed his sister that much.

“Janelle, switch places with me,” I called over my shoulder.

“Talia, we don’t have time for this,” Frederick said.

I glanced to where Erik’s head was lolling against Crane’s shoulder.
No, we didn’t have time for this. But Cadence had helped Erik rescue his family. There was no way I’d be able to live with myself if I gave up the opportunity to repay the favor.

Janelle was already brushing past Frederick, Crane, and Erik to assume the lead.

“Go. I’ll be right behind you,” I told them.

Crane was reluctant at first, but I’d put enough force behind my words that he soon complied.
I waited until all four of them had reached the next landing. Then, I placed my hand on the cold stone wall and opened my mind. I felt a strong buzzing deep within. The prisoner was calling for help. “My name is Randy Choi. Please don’t leave me here,” he screamed over and over again.

His cell was not close to the stairwell the way Erik’s had been.
Rather, it was deep within the maze of hallways. As much as I wanted to free him, navigating through the prison would take too much time, and I was unwilling to leave Frederick, Erik, and Crane without backup.

I made a snap decision.
One that I wasn’t even sure was possible. I would try, though. Concentrating every ounce of energy I possessed on my telekinetic powers, I closed my eyes, envisioned blowing a hole from where I stood, through tons of stone, concrete, steel, and whatever else, to Randy’s cell. Power, hot and electrifying, traveled from my mind, down my shoulder, until it reached my hand. It burst forth from my fingertips and into the wall with a sharp crackle and pop. The air seemed to still for just a second before a terrific explosion of stone and concrete erupted beneath my touch.

I stared down at my hand, shocked and relieved that the gamble had paid off.

“Talia?”
Crane screamed in my head.
“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Fine, Ian,”
I sent back.
“I’m on my way up now.”

The rubble and dust settled, and a gaping hole now stood where my hand had been moments earlier.
Slowly, a dark form materialized in the blackened depths of the opening. The closer it came, the larger it got. I didn’t move, even though I knew I was wasting time. Finally, the person was close enough that the stairwell’s dim light illuminated his Asian features. I swallowed hard.

“Randy Choi?” I asked, knowing full well he was.
I’d have recognized him from his personnel file even if he hadn’t been chanting his name along with his plea for rescue. He had a dark, scraggly beard that covered gaunt, sunken-in cheeks. His gray jumpsuit hung loosely on his too thin frame.

“I’m a friend of your sister,” I added for good measure.
Not that I truly thought he cared who rescued him as long as someone did, but I hoped the news would light a fire under his butt and he’d move a little faster.

“Cadence.”
His voice was hoarse, most likely from the combination of screaming for the last however long and disuse.

I nodded and offered him a small smile.
“Yeah, Cadence,” I said. Then, I turned and headed for the roof, calling over my shoulder, “We need to hurry.”

Randy fell in step with me halfway to the next landing.
His legs were much longer than mine, but I was still surprised he was able to move so fast. I doubted a four by four cell allowed for any type of exercise and judging by Randy’s pallor, he hadn’t seen the sun in quite some time. I refrained from comment. I didn’t want to waste any breath talking.

Two flights later we reached an open door leading out onto the roof.
It was propped open with cinderblock, and warm air was blowing in from outside. Absently, I noticed that this door, too, was devoid of a handle. I considered that, and filed it away under things to worry about later.

I stepped through the doorway first, followed closely by Randy.
Frederick had Erik strapped to him, and Crane and Janelle were busy securing the two of them into a harness so that they could be hauled back into the transport plane hovering overhead. Crane looked up when he heard us exit. When he saw Randy, he nodded to him. Whether the two men actually knew each other, I had no idea.

Randy stumbled forward, panting from the run up the stairs, and grabbed a dangling harness, deftly working his way into it.

“Hurry, Talia. The others are already aboard,”
Crane sent.

“I want to wait until Erik goes up,”
I replied tightly. No way was I risking a last minute attack. I’d stand guard until he was safely on the plane.

Crane didn’t fight me.
He seemed to share my concern and waited with me.

Once Frederick had both himself and Erik in the harness, he tugged three times on the rope giving the command to bring them up.
Randy followed a moment later. All three of them shooting into the night sky like missiles. As soon as they were gone, a weight seemed to lift from my chest. He was safe. I’d done it. No, I corrected myself,
we’d
done it. Without Crane, this wouldn’t have been possible. I owed him.

Crane and I started securing ourselves into the remaining harnesses when a figure burst onto the roof.
His gun was drawn and aimed directly at me. I froze. This time, not out of fear.

“Talia, go!”
Crane yelled.

I ignored the order and stared into the clear blue eyes of Donavon McDonough.
He wouldn’t hurt me, I knew that without a doubt. The gun he held was for show. His finger wasn’t even on the trigger. I reached out to him mentally, and scanned his thoughts.

Indecision warred in his mind, but the choice he was trying to make wasn’t whether to shoot or not.
He wanted to come with us, wanted to run away from the life he’d been born into. But obligation and duty to TOXIC and his father had been hammered into him since birth, and leaving this life behind was not a step he was ready to take.

“Donavon, please come with us,”
I urged him. I considered using my will to force him into submission, but that felt wrong. Going against his father was a decision he needed to make for himself. He certainly wouldn’t thank me for taking the choice from him.

“Get out of here, Tal.
Get out of the country, if you can. They’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth if need be.”

“Donavon,”
I pleaded again.

He shook his head and pursed his lips.
“Go, Natalia.”

I felt Crane’s gaze on me, silently questioning what he should do.
Instead of verbally responding, I tugged my rope and began zipping upward. I kept my eyes locked with Donavon’s as long as possible, and then continued to stare down at his shrinking form once eye contact was no longer possible. He stood on the roof of Tramblewood, watching me walk out of his life for yet another time. There was a finality that hadn’t been there before. He’d made his choice, and I’d made mine. We would fight on opposite sides in this war. I hoped when it was over we’d both be able to live with our decisions.

 

Chapter Three

 

The metal doors clanged shut and the plane was darting forward before I had a chance to untangle myself from the harness. My fingers felt too thick, were too clumsy, and the process took longer than it should have. Cursing, I tripped over the jumble of ropes before finally freeing myself. I raced to the back of the plane, shoving past Janelle and Jared in my haste to reach Erik.

Thin, yet shockingly strong arms circled my waist from behind.

“Get off of me,” I growled.

“Let them do their job,” Frederick replied calmly, his mouth so close to my ear his breath tickled my neck. I struggled against his hold, kicking and clawing like a wild animal. “You’ll just be in the way,” he muttered.

Part of me knew he was right. But I could ease Erik’s suffering, dull his pain, like he’d done for me on so many occasions. No, I decided, the best place for me was by his side.

While Frederick was stronger than I’d given him credit for, he was no match for either my strength or my manic need to touch Erik. A well-placed boot heel to the side of Frederick’s knee and I was able to break free. The medical team was crowded around Erik’s stretcher, one young woman barking orders with the authority of a drill sargent. Machines and contraptions were produced as if by magic as the team assessed the situation.

An explosion rocked the plane, and I stumbled sideways, my shoulder slamming into the wall of the aircraft. My brain barely registered the pain, my nerve-endings unreceptive to any sensation that interfered with my need to reach Erik. The medics blocking my view shifted with the plane, and I caught my first glimpse of Erik in the harsh neon glow of the overhead lights.

I gasped at the sight of his naked torso. Erik’s chest looked like a black and red checkerboard, complete with misshapen lumps for playing pieces. Bands of shiny, raw skin ringed his biceps and wrists from where he’d been restrained with ropes or too-tight metal cuffs. Track marks covered both of his hands, his wrists, forearms, and even the side of his neck, creating a giant constellation of red stars across his ashen skin.

A second eruption – from below this time – sent me pitching forward several paces, and into the back of a short, squat medic readying a syringe. He grunted as the female medic who appeared to be in charge grabbed my arm to steady me. Any other time I would have thanked her, at least acknowledged her. Not then, not when my eyes were glued to Erik.

“Oh god, no!” I cried, reaching past the medic with the needle to take Erik’s limp hand.

“You need to stay back, miss,” the woman in charge told me. She wasn’t unkind, but the tone of her voice suggested that disobedience wouldn’t be tolerated.

Ignoring her subtle warning, I curled my gloved fingers around Erik’s. Through the thin suit material, his skin felt normal, but the easy way our hands slid apart when the woman drew me backwards told me it was clammy with sweat.

Daring to pull my gaze from Erik, I looked up at the female medic and snarled. We were nearly the same height, my boots bringing me almost level with her hazel eyes. I gave her a withering glare, anticipating she would wilt like the delicate flower she
appeared to be. Only, like me, her size was misleading. Despite being a waif of a woman, when she straightened her spine and said, “Do you want him to die?” I was the one who wilted. Her tone wasn’t cold or impersonal, just matter-of-fact.

“Then go sit up front,” she continued when I didn’t answer her rhetorical question.

With one last glance at the love of my life, I turned to go, praying that this no-nonsense woman was as capable a doctor as her confident demeanor suggested.

“Tals?” His low, raspy whisper was music to my ears.

I spun to see Erik, eyelids fluttering spastically as he made a feeble attempt to sit up. Alarmed by the sudden movement, the medic that I’d crashed into aimed his needle towards the crook of Erik’s elbow. In response, Erik’s hand shot upwards, and his fingers clamped around the man’s windpipe. I watched in horror as the same fingers that were always so gentle when they touched me, so soft when held me, squeezed until the short man’s face turned beet red and his dark eyes bulged like a frog’s.

“Erik, no,” I breathed, even as he lifted the medic off of the ground far enough that the man’s feet dangled in empty air.

The female doctor and I reacted in unison. She went for her colleague and I went for Erik’s mind. Frantic, terrified thoughts raced through his head: fight, protect, kill. All around him, Erik saw danger. Each of the medics in their scrubs reminded him of the doctors at Tramblewood. My presence wasn’t having the calming effect I’d hoped for. Instead, it thrust Erik’s protective instinct into high gear.

There was no time to be gentle. I took complete control of Erik, mind, body, and will. Being so weak, the fragile resistance he put forth was easier to squash than a bug. Different factions of his brain played tug of war with one another, with no one faction being strong enough to fight the intrusion. I forced him to release his grip on the medic’s throat. The man dropped to his knees, gulping air by the lungful. Erik’s adrenaline was pumping so fast that
my
hands started to shake as a result. His heart pummeled his ribs from the inside, as if demanding to be set free. I began siphoning his panic, drawing more and more of it into me until I felt his emotions start to go numb. My own pulse spiked. I allowed my canines to lengthen until their tips pierced my bottom lip. The sharp burst of pain, mingled with the iron tang of my blood, helped me to remain focused.

Meanwhile, the female doctor had freed the needle from the medic’s hand and was fixing to stab Erik with it. Trembling from nerves, she tried to maneuver the syringe into position over a vein in his arm. She met my gaze over the stretcher, silently asking whether he was going to attack her too. I shook my head and moved closer to the stretcher and Erik’s side. His turquoise eyes were cloudy with confusion, and when he repeated my name, it came out as a question.

“I’m right here,” I assured him, my voice choked with emotion.

His eyes darted frantically from left to right and back again, never lingering on any one thing for more than a nanosecond. Strong-willed and prideful as Erik was, he began to fight me for control of his mind. Agitation and anger over being stripped of his free will caused him to emit a guttural growl that sent the female doctor scurrying backwards. While I was fairly confident that Erik was no match for me mentally, I didn’t want to test that theory.

“Do it,” I hissed at the female doctor, nodding towards the needle she had clutched in her fist.

Mustering a smile for Erik’s benefit, I leaned down and smoothed back the dark hair clinging to his forehead. “It’s okay,” I soothed. “You’re
gonna be okay.” With my touch, I willed him to relax further.

“You came,” Erik murmured, the two words slurring together to become one. “He said you would.”

I had a good idea of who “he” was. And I hoped “he” was kicking himself now. Despite Mac’s best efforts, I’d still rescued Erik. The smug satisfaction I felt was lessened when I recalled the lack of security surrounding Erik’s cell. I had a bad feeling that I might be the one kicking myself soon.

“I’ll always come for you,”
I sent Erik.

I held his gaze, wanting my face to be the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness. Erik’s eyelids began to droop and like a child fighting bedtime, he tried to hold them up. The doctor inched forward and with a practiced hand, and finally, inserted the needle. Erik winced slightly as she depressed the plunger, injecting a strong sedative into his bloodstream. The drug took effect instantaneously. I’d become so immersed in Erik that warmth seemed to spread through my veins, followed by a leaden sensation that made my limbs feel heavy and my mind sluggish. Erik and I both welcomed the chemical haze and the brief moment of drug-induced euphoria that occurred just before his eyes closed and the connection severed.

My knees buckled, and I had to grip the stretcher with my free hand to stay upright. My brain ricocheted off the sides of my skull like a ping pong ball. I clenched my teeth as a powerful wave of dizziness crashed over me. The mental energy it had taken to control Erik was more than I’d realized. Being strong-willed, Erik’s barriers had been harder to break down than most. All I wanted was to sit and make the room stop spinning.

“Talia! Are you okay?” Crane exclaimed, coming to my aid. He looped his arm around my waist to support me.

“We’ve got it from here,” the female doctor added, nodding encouragingly.

I let Crane drag me back from the stretcher, but I refused to turn my gaze from Erik’s bruised face. Pain caused my stomach muscles to spasm uncontrollably. I doubled over, crying out. Crane’s grip on me tightened, and I leaned against him.

I watched as the medics began peeling away Erik’s remaining clothes – if you could call the tattered scraps of material clothes. His body had gone limp, his muscles unresponsive. It was for the best, subconsciously I knew that. Still, seeing him so helpless made my chest ache.

“Come on, let’s go sit down,” Crane said gently.

I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with Erik, but knew I’d only be in the way. For the time being, I’d done all I could do to help him. Now, he was in the medics’ hands. Their ministrations and Erik’s will to live would have to be enough.

Crane led me past the metal benches, now lined with Coalition soldiers and refugees from Tramblewood. A Coalition man I didn’t know was bent over Frederick, applying something that smelled like disinfectant to the gashes on his face. He gave me a small half-smile as I passed. Next to him, Janelle winced as Jared spread burn cream over the right side of her neck. Others had first aid kits out tending to injuries that, while not life threatening, needed medical attention.

Instead of placing me in a seat in the main bay of the plane, Crane led me to the cockpit and gestured to the sitting area to the left of the entrance. I settled into a cushy armchair, letting my head fall against the headrest. I closed my eyes, now heavy with exhaustion, and silently prayed to anyone listening to save Erik’s life.

I felt Crane’s presence as he eased himself down beside me. I was no longer on an adrenaline high, and I’d used so much mental energy that I couldn’t have erected my mental walls had my life depended on it. However, I also found that I really didn’t care if Crane knew my thoughts. My display beside Erik’s sickbed had clearly shown everyone watching where my head was.

In the cockpit, the soldiers’ voices were muted, and most of the sound came in the form of beeps and buzzes from the navigation system. It was hard to concentrate on any one conversation, and more than anything I needed a distraction. I’d have liked to lose myself into the sweet oblivion of sleep, but my mind was humming too loudly for that to be a viable option. So, I decided to talk.

“Have you heard from Brand? Was his team able to get all your people out? Did they encounter a lot of trouble?” I peppered Crane with questions. My eyelids felt too heavy to hold open, so I let them droop as I spoke.

Crane sighed, measured his words. “Things could’ve gone worse,” he said finally.

When the Coalition President failed to elaborate, I pressed. “How much worse?”

“A lot. Brand’s team landed in the main courtyard just fine. It took them longer than anticipated to reach the cell block with our people. The route they took had more obstacles.”

I cringed. The cell block with the Coalition hostages was in the rear of the main building, close to the bridge – the bridge I’d destroyed. That was why both teams had planned to land there originally.

“There were causalities,” Crane was saying gravely.

“Who?” I asked, the pain in my stomach intensifying under the heavy guilt weighing it down.

At least now Brand had a legitimate reason to hate me, I thought dryly.

“Pat
Asure and Link Mahoney,” Crane said.

Neither name sounded familiar. I tied to recall the faces of the soldiers who’d gathered in the command center for our strategy meetings. Regret mingled with the guilt when I realized that I hadn’t bothered to pay enough attention then to conjure up a single image now.

“Good men,” Crane added.

“Ian, I’m –”

“You don’t have any reason to be sorry, Talia. They knew the risks. Mahoney even volunteered for this mission. Besides, at least five of my people are going home to families who thought they’d never see their loved ones again.” He paused, and I felt his eyes burning holes through my suit. “But it’s not just about the people we rescued from Tramblewood, Talia. This mission has far-reaching implications. Tonight, we showed TOXIC we are serious, that we won’t let them bully us any longer. And, we’re one step closer to proving to the world that TOXIC has been using the creation drug, which means we’re one step closer to stopping them.”

His sentiments eased my lingering guilt. Crane was right. With Erik, Penny, and I, the Coalition had irrefutable proof that TOXIC was creating Talents.

Proof was the second reason Crane had agreed to the rescue mission.

After Penny recounted her appalling tale of torture and testing while in TOXIC’s custody, Crane had given me a history lesson on the creation drug.

The United Nations International Talent Education Division – UNITED – had banned the use of the drug over a decade ago, after their own research had hit a brick wall. Unlike Mac, their primary concern hadn’t been over the short period in which most recipients exhibited talent, but rather the long-term side-effects.

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