Defenders (44 page)

They’re guessing it happened through an intercepted communication.

Oliver nodded. “So they’re not suspicious that some of their own have been altered?”

That would be an impressive leap of logic, don’t you think?

“Don’t underestimate their capacity for paranoia,” Dominique said.

Someone knocked on the door.

Oliver jumped like he’d been goosed. He looked at the Invincible Iron Man alarm clock sitting on a nearly empty bookshelf. “Oh, shit. I invited Vanessa over. I didn’t realize what time it was.”

Dominique surveyed the room. “How were you planning to explain the battle maps?”

“I told her to come for coffee, but the real reason I invited her was to warn her of what’s about to happen, and hopefully convince her to stay here with us.”

Another knock. Oliver went to answer it.

It wasn’t Oliver’s ex, it was Lila, who stormed in, dropped her bag on the couch, and went to the map. “What’s happening?” Her eyes were red, and her nose sounded plugged.

“Didn’t we agree you should go to work, as usual?” Oliver asked.

“I infected myself with rhinovirus yesterday, then played up the symptoms like I had the flu.”

That seemed risky to Dominique, but she kept her mouth shut. Lila liked to be in the middle of things. Dominique could relate.

“
Here we go!
” Forrest shouted. “I got it, I got it.”

Everyone hustled to see the laptop screen. “We can choose country, then city or town, over here.” Forrest pointed at a menu to the right of the screen. “Then scroll through the various feeds.” He toggled through a dozen views of D.C. until he found one that showed a handful of defenders with rifles shooting dozens of Luyten, who’d evidently been hiding in a warehouse. The Luyten were fighting back (in fact, one defender was down and unmoving), but they were cornered and outgunned, and they were dying. There were twitching, bullet-riddled Luyten everywhere.

“It’s time,” Oliver said, staring at the carnage. “Let’s send the call out to the human side of the resistance. They’re being slaughtered.”

Not yet—we have to allow the images of Luyten resistance to spread. It will make it much easier to convince your people to fight at our side.

“Are the images spreading?”

Yes. Quickly. We’ve recruited human allies who are making sure.

“What about the Luyten in the wild, the ones who are armed?” Dominique asked. “Couldn’t they help?”

Lila turned. “What Luyten in the wild?”

“We stumbled on a camp of armed Luyten in Alaska. They looked like they’d been there since the war. If there’s one camp, there must be others.” She was surprised this was news to them; she’d assumed if she knew about them, the others would by now.

“Five?” Lila sounded supremely uneasy. “Are there others?”

There was an uncharacteristically long pause.
Yes. Some of your military strategists are aware of them, and have plans for them.

“
How many?
” Lila asked.

Several million worldwide, Lila. And yes, to what you’re thinking. That was the original plan.

Dominique looked at Lila. “What was the original plan?”

Lila folded her arms. “They were planning their own rebellion. Why else would they have secret camps all over the world? And I’ll bet they were breeding as fast as they could, weren’t they, Five? You were biding your time, waiting to grow an army big enough to wipe out the defenders, and then us.”

Look out your fucking window, Lila. We’re dying by the thousands. If you still can’t see past your own hatred of us, then I give up. We’re monsters, bent on killing. You’re angels, with nothing but noble intentions. Are you satisfied? Now, get the hell out of our way. The rest of us have work to do.

There was no missing Five’s rage. It burned inside Dominique’s head like a blowtorch.

“He’s right, Lila,” Oliver said, speaking gently. “Since we formed this alliance, they’ve done everything they promised, and more.”

“Except tell us about the existence of
millions
of other Luyten.”

“They told others. I’m guessing they withheld the information from us because they knew how you’d react. Can you blame them?”

Lila looked at Oliver, her eyes like razors. Dominique had seen her angry like this a few times before; it had never ended well. She needed to defuse the situation before things got out of hand.

“Well,
you
can’t blame them, that much is clear,” Lila said, her tone acid. “What is it about Five that makes you crave his approval so desperately? Even after he broke up your marriage, you still want his approval more than you want your wife back.”

Oliver’s face trembled, with rage, hurt, or both. “You don’t know anything about what I want.”

Lila opened her mouth to reply just as the doorbell rang.

“That’s Vanessa,” Oliver said. He went to the door.

“Five, tell us the Luyten’s original plan, so we can understand,” Dominique said.

Oliver led Vanessa into the room; Dominique nodded a brief greeting, as Five replied.

Stay out of sight. Multiply. In about thirty years, if we weren’t discovered, we’d have had enough strength to rise up against the defenders. Humanity would be forced to choose a side.

“But you changed your plan when you learned about the defenders’ plan to cull the human population. You couldn’t stand idly by while it happened,” Dominique suggested.

Vanessa looked utterly confused. She was hearing only half the conversation. Oliver whispered something to her.

“Or they saw it as an opportunity,” Lila said. She headed for the door. “I’m going to go. Five is right; I’m only getting in the way.”

No one tried to stop her. Dominique was tempted, but it was probably best for her to be elsewhere; the stress was getting to her. The stress was getting to everyone, even Five. Hell, Dominique wished she could leave, too.

Oliver was still whispering to Vanessa. Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my God.”

Your military strategists are offering a range of opinions, from launching the human side of the uprising immediately, to waiting several days. The consensus seems to be to wait another hour or two. So that’s what we plan to do.

“Explain to me again how you’re going to convince people to pour into the streets, poorly armed, against defenders armed to the teeth?” Dominique asked.

Wake up, John Smith, your people are rising up, and they need your help. Get the ax from your garage and report to your commander on Main Street. I’m hiding under your house. Don’t make me come in there and get you.

The room erupted with laughter, except Vanessa, who looked confused, and scared. Oliver whispered something else, clearly trying to console her.

“That would get
my
ass into the street,” Forrest said.

It won’t take much prodding. Most humans are ready to fight.

Forrest nodded. He looked dead on his feet, his eyes half shut, his hands shaky. It occurred to Dominique that this might be a good time for them to go back to the little apartment they’d commandeered and get a couple of hours’ sleep. Oliver would probably appreciate some time alone with Vanessa, and in this little studio apartment that wasn’t going to happen unless Dominique and Forrest left for a while. When she suggested getting some sleep to Forrest, he didn’t argue.

Kai went to the kitchen, plugged the sink, and turned the water on full-blast. He was so nervous his stomach ached. The water overflowed, spilling across the counter and onto Erik’s tile floor. Erik would turn off the water when he saw this; he wouldn’t be able to resist. He’d better not be able to resist.

Kai left the sliding glass door open and went around to the crawlspace entrance, then contemplated the circuit panel for a long moment before flipping the breaker on. He went back inside to wait for Erik. If Erik stuck to his usual routine, he’d be back for lunch.

“Kai?”

The front door banged open. “Kai?”

From his hiding place in the laundry closet, Kai heard Erik curse. He peered through the crack between the sets of folding doors into the empty kitchen, his heart racing. Something scraped along the wall and clattered to the floor, then Erik stepped into view, cursing a blue streak, glaring at the faucet.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” He reached toward the faucet. “Because you—” As Erik’s fingertips brushed the handle, there was a blinding flash. Erik was blown backward into the wall of cabinets. He landed on his feet, then tipped forward, his face slamming into the counter before he crumpled to the flooded tile floor. It wasn’t what Kai had expected. He’d pictured Erik dancing like a marionette, unable to let go of the handle while the current flowed through him, seeking ground.

Then he noticed the lights had dimmed. He’d thought it was the aftereffects of the bright flash, but it wasn’t—the lights in the kitchen were out, and so were the ones in the hallway. The circuit had blown.

In the kitchen, Erik groaned.

Kai stopped breathing, strained to see Erik in the dim light filtering through the living room windows.

Erik lifted his head. His normally flat, fishlike eyes were lit with astonishment. Kai felt a terrible, sinking dread as Erik pawed feebly at the wet floor. He looked as weak as a puppy, but he wouldn’t stay that way. He’d get up, if Kai didn’t stop him.

Kai burst from the closet, cast about for a weapon. He spotted the row of kitchen knives jutting from the block above the counter. He pulled out the biggest one with his good hand.

His heart was tripping, his breath coming in a wheeze as he splashed through the inch-deep water. Erik muttered something, rolled onto his back, raised an arm as Kai lunged. Kai knocked Erik’s weakened arm away and stabbed him in the chest.

Erik hissed like he was filled with air and Kai had popped him, but it was blood, not air, that spattered Kai’s hands and face. He pulled the knife free and stabbed again, harder this time, horrified by the feel of it sinking into Erik’s chest.

This time Erik screamed in pain and rage; his big fist came down on Kai’s head, knocking him to the floor. Kai struggled to his knees, raised the knife, and stabbed again with all of his might as Erik howled.

Suddenly Kai was on his back. Lila was standing over him, her screams merging with Erik’s.

“What are you doing?”

Kai stared up at her, gasping for breath, feeling like he’d been caught doing something unspeakable.

Lila knelt beside Erik, her knees in pink water.

Kai sat up. He watched Lila, who was sobbing and holding Erik’s face. She looked back at him. “Where is Errol?”

“He’s at Charlie’s. He’s safe.”

“What happened? Did he attack you?”

“He would have,” Kai said. He spotted an assault rifle lying on the floor along the wall. That’s what he’d heard clatter to the floor after Erik barged in. Kai pointed at it. “He brought that with him.”

“Lila,” Erik said, his voice a deep gurgle.

Lila put her face close to Erik’s. “I’m here.”

In that moment Erik looked as human as Kai had ever seen him. His face was twisted in pain, or regret, or something, and spattered with blood. His forehead was a series of ripples. Kai wasn’t sorry he’d done it, wasn’t sorry Erik was dying, but he was sorry Erik was suffering. Kai knew what it felt like.

Outside, he heard the sound of gunfire, then the
boom
of a howitzer, or tank. It was starting.

“Are you sad to see me this way, Lila?” Erik asked.

“Yes, Erik, I am.”

That seemed to console Erik. Kai watched as he shuddered and died in Lila’s arms.

Lila stood, looked around the flooded kitchen, clearly trying to make sense of the scene. She looked at Kai. “What happened?”

Kai gestured toward Erik. “He was going to kill me. I could read it in his face this morning when he left. So I rigged a trap and killed him first.”

Lila frowned. “You rigged a trap? What do you mean?”

“I ran an electrical current through the faucet.”

“You ran…” Lila absorbed this for a moment, as outside, the booming and popping of battle intensified.

“Lila, don’t blame me for being the one who’s not dead.”

Lila covered her eyes with her palm. “But you
stabbed
him. I saw you.”

Kai stood slowly. He looked at his hands, caked with drying blood. The water was still running. He thrust them under the faucet; the chilly water turned light pink. Tendrils of deeper red carried up and out of the sink, over the counter.

Lila left the kitchen as he dried his hands on a towel hanging from the oven door. He could hear her in one of the bedrooms, opening and closing drawers.

Erik’s assault rifle still lay on the floor in the living room. Kai went and picked it up. It weighed at least thirty pounds.

Lila reappeared carrying an oversized beige bedspread. She used it to cover Erik.

“I have to get out there and help,” Kai said.

Lila looked at the rifle in his hands. “What? No. You’re part of the command team. We need you.”

A red stain had bloomed on the bedspread; it grew as Kai watched. “No, you don’t. I’m not CIA, or State Department, or a genetic engineer. I’m a poker player and a war veteran. I’d be more useful out there.” He motioned toward the door with his head.

Lila reached up, grabbed his face with both hands, and turned it toward hers. He hadn’t realized it, but he was avoiding her eyes. “You’ll die out there. Please don’t go.”

Kai didn’t answer.

“You’re going out there to prove you didn’t have anything against Erik personally. Forget what I said; I shouldn’t have said it.” She drew him into a hug. “This is all so fucked-up. Sometimes I’m not even sure whose side I’m on.” She pressed her face into his shoulder.

“It’s not that. Honestly.” He wanted to explain why he felt the need to go out there, but he wasn’t sure himself. He had to go for the same reason as everyone else. To fix their fucked-up world.

“You’re still trying to live down
The Boy Who Betrayed the World
,” Lila said. “You took four bullets. You’ve done your part, okay?”