Delete: Volume 3 (Shifter Series) (2 page)

I was starting to feel weak again. Pain crept around the edges, trying to get back in.

It’s only pain
, a voice in my head said.
You’ve had worse.

I forced myself to ignore the ache – locking it away as if behind a wall in my mind – and pressed on. I’d lost track of where we were. With no road signs or familiar landmarks to guide me, I might as well have been in a foreign city. The other thing that made this London feel so alien was that it was empty. Not a soul on the streets, save for me, Aubrey, Zac and their two companions. It was eerie. Like something from a zombie movie.

“Wait here,” Aubrey said. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

I didn’t want to let her go, but what choice did I have? I wasn’t exactly in any state to run after her. I felt weaker than I could ever remember. And not just from the blood loss. It felt like I hadn’t slept in days. Looking down at the way the combat trousers hung around my hips, it looked as if I hadn’t eaten much, either. I leant against a wall, and focused on not throwing up.

“How are you doing, sir?”

“I’m fine, Turner,” I said, looking up at the girl. “Just a little, you know, shot.”

“It will be the comedown from your Shift, too,” the boy said in a low voice, crouching next to us. His name tag read “Cooper.” “A sixteen!” He whistled through his teeth.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Turner said.

“Dur! No one has. No one has ever gone higher than a thirteen before, isn’t that right, sir?”

“I… I don’t know,” I said.

“I scored a nine once. Do you remember that, Turner?”

“Remember it? You tell me about it every single day,” the girl replied.

“Yeah,” Cooper said, looking dejected, “well, it was pure epic.”

“It was pure luck.”

Their banter reminded me of how Aubrey and I had been when we first started working together. How she would make fun of me and I would grin dumbly, unable to think of anything remotely witty to say in response.

“Leave the Com alone,” Zac said. I’d never been more grateful to anyone.

Cooper blushed even redder, and he and Turner went back to watching for Aubrey’s return. They didn’t have to wait for long.

“The way is blocked,” she said, jogging towards us. “Looks recent.”

“An ambush?” Zac asked.

“Feels like it.”

“Then we take another route?” Zac looked at me.

“I… I haven’t been plotting,” I said, the heat of shame stinging my cheeks. That was basic stuff. Even a cadet wouldn’t be caught moving through the streets without tracking their route and the alternative paths. But the pain and fog in my head made it hard to focus on what was happening right now, let alone hold on to the alternatives.

“I’ll do it,” Aubrey said. She pulled her helmet off, closed her eyes and lifted her head, as if turning her face to the sun. Her blonde hair was a little longer than before, with no hint of the red streak. Her fringe fell over the dark patch covering her left eye, and there was a faint trail of a scar cutting across her eyebrow. Her good eye was missing the usual dark make-up that my Aubrey had always worn. It made her look younger. But she was as beautiful as ever. Before I had a chance to gaze at her any longer, we were suddenly standing in a completely different street. Aubrey had made her Shift.

“There.” She pointed at an alleyway up ahead. Piles of twisted metal and shattered glass blocked the path between the entrance and us. “That will bring us out onto Prince’s Street. And from there we can join up with the rest of the squad.”

“What about drones?” Cooper said, and I could tell by the slight quiver in his voice that he was scared. “Isn’t this area covered by patrol drones?”

“We should be OK,” Zac said, looking off into the distance. “We took out ten of them last week. They’ll be using the ones they have left to focus on their territory. It’s what I’d do,” he added, as if to excuse his mapping abilities. Zac, or at least the Zac I had known, had been one of ARES’ most promising Mappers – Shifters who worked out the most likely outcomes of any Shifts – before he went rogue. Some in ARES treated Mappers like psychics, but they couldn’t see the future. They were just really good at weighing up the odds.

Aubrey chewed at her lip, scanning the road between us and the alley. “It’s the fastest way through. All right, weapons check.”

It was only then I noticed Zac and Aubrey had sleek, semi-automatic rifles slung across their backs. They tucked the stocks under their arms, ejected the magazines and slapped them back in, and each flicked off the safety. Cooper and Turner pulled handguns out of holsters and pulled the slides back. In my ARES, Shifters hadn’t even been allowed to carry tasers.

“Stay tight,” Aubrey said, bringing the gun up to her shoulder.

“Can’t the Commandant maybe…” Turner fell silent as Aubrey glared at her.

“Consider the Commandant out of action for the moment,” Zac said, not looking at me.

A sense of bitter shame itched in my stomach. I was supposed to be their leader and I was letting them down. They were looking to me for answers and I had none.

I didn’t belong here. I had to Shift and get out. Back to my old reality where I wasn’t running around with a bullet in my leg and didn’t have drones to worry about. But… I looked at Aubrey. She watched me with her one good eye, a curious smile playing about her lips. I smiled back. The Shift could wait. After all, I didn’t want to risk making the situation even worse.

I tried to find some hidden reserves of energy as the group set off again, heading for the fallen building.

Zac and Aubrey helped me crawl over girders and rubble to get through to the alley. The pain was biting hard again, and my vision was blurring around the edges. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep this up. The alley stank of piss and rotting food, like something had died down here. As we stepped over a large brown stain, I realised I wasn’t wrong about that.

When we finally came out the other end, it opened onto a long, wide road.

“They should be up ahead,” Turner said, excitedly.

I heard a low
whoomp, whoomp
. Had the drones Cooper had been worrying about found us?

A blur of metal appeared over the top of the empty shops in front of us. A black helicopter with the Union flag painted on its tail hovered overhead.

“Damn,” Aubrey said. And reached up to her collar again. “Thirteen squad. We are one hundred metres south of your location. Request drop and wait.”

“I regret, no can do,” a female voice crackled in return. I could make out the hint of an accent amid the static.

“Then how the hell do you think we’re going to get to the Hub, Ladoux?” Aubrey shouted down her mic. “Walk?”

“Relax, Jones,” whoever this Ladoux was said. “The Rhino is waiting. Couldn’t leave you out in the cold, could we?” Her voice crackled as the reception weakened. “We’ll light your way.”

“Gee, thanks,” Aubrey said.

“What’s the Rhino?” I asked.

Aubrey looked at me like I’d asked a very stupid question. She was about to answer when she was cut off by a low, grumbling roar and the sound of metal grinding on concrete. “That,” she said jabbing her thumb back over her shoulder, “is the Rhino.”

A huge tank rolled around a corner. Its tracks rolled over the remains of a car, flattening it like a tin can. It was so black it seemed to swallow up any light left on the street. There were no windows I could see. No slots in the armour. The only thing breaking the blackness was the Union flag painted on its side. It looked like something out of one of my old videogames. Like something from the future.

The Rhino ground to a halt, cracking the concrete under its weight. A hatch opened in the top and a helmeted head popped up.

“Well,” said a lilting voice I recognised. “Are you gonna stand there all day, or are we getting the feck out of here?” A tiny girl clambered out of the hatch to stand on top of the tank. She blew her long, brown fringe out of her eyes.

“Thanks, Cleo,” Zac said. “I thought we were going to be walking home tonight.”

“Sure, it was no problem. And I’ve been wanting to get behind the sticks of this baby for a while.”

Without any hesitation, Zac, Turner and Cooper scrambled up the side of the tank and dropped in through the hatch. Aubrey hesitated, looking at me. “Are you coming, sir?”

I couldn’t move. I stared up at the hulking vehicle and my old classmate, CP Finn, standing on top of it.

“Scott!” The sound of my name snapped me out of it. I looked up at Aubrey, now standing next to CP on the top of the tank. “Are you coming?”

I nodded and stumbled forward. The pain was back and then some, making up for its brief vacation with a vengeance. I tried to bend my leg to climb up onto the tank. And that was all I could remember.

CHAPTER TWO

I faded in and out of consciousness. Swimming to the surface before being pulled back into the darkness. I got a sense of movement: fast and bumpy. We were travelling through the streets of London at breakneck speeds. Faces swam in and out of my view. I caught snatches of muttered voices. They sounded worried. More sudden movement, and then everything was bright, blinding white.

“The Com’s been shot!” someone shouted.

The movement stopped, and my boots and trousers were tugged off. A cold hand lay on my leg and the pain was too much to bear. I gave in and sank down into the bliss of sleep.

I dreamt of battles and blood. Tanks and helicopters and fire. I woke to a face inches away from mine. “Aubrey?” I said through cotton-dry lips.

The person laughed. “No. Jones is off being useful somewhere. Whereas I am playing nurse for you.” It was Zac.

I struggled to prop myself up on the bed. “Where am I?”

“In the infirmary. It was a close one, sir. You’d lost a lot of blood. Luckily, the doc was able to pump you full again.”

I looked down at my arm where a tube filled with dark liquid snaked into the crook of my elbow. Below the IV tube, there was a black symbol inked across my upper arm: a stylised letter S with two double-headed arrows cutting across it. I rubbed at it. It wasn’t coming off. It appeared that I had a tattoo. Mum, I thought vaguely, will kill me when she sees this.

I turned my attention to the room.

It was bright white, with plastic sheeting covering rock walls. Wherever we were, we were underground. Why would anyone set up a hospital in a cave? Eight beds were arranged in a circle around the room. Children occupied four of them. Some of the children lay silent, wired up to drips. Others moaned softly in pain, bandages covering various parts of them.

“What happened to them?”

“You can’t remember?” Zac said, keeping his voice low.

I shook my head.

“These are some of your old ARES squadron,” he said slowly, as if trying to explain something to a child. “You led us in an operation last week to take a bomb factory. You were successful.”

“Successful?” I said, looking at the injured kids.

Pain cracked through my head and with it a memory flashed.

I’m running towards a warehouse door ahead, a girl on my left and a boy on my right. I hear a crack and the boy next to me goes down. I keep on running. I think about Shifting, but we have to stick to the plan. It’s more important than one boy. I feel a mild sense of annoyance that someone will have to take his place in the plan. I look around to find where the shot came from and see a man, with a red scarf covering his face, standing on the roof overhead. I shout at the girl to cover the left flank and turn to the armed Shifters behind me, pointing up at the man on the roof. They take aim. A moment later and he’s falling, limbs splayed, holes in his head and chest. He is dead before he hits the ground in front of me. I step over him and push on.

I press the PTT button at my neck and call in covering fire. There’s the sweet sound of rotary guns whirring as the helicopter lays down twin rows of bullets. It cut through the building in front of us. That should sort any remaining snipers.

I’m almost at the door. And I’m smiling. Ready to take on who and whatever is inside. Ready to make them pay.

The pounding in my head faded. That wasn’t my memory. It couldn’t have been. Who could be that cold? That ruthless? I could still smell the blood and cordite. And the rush – the joy of the fight. It couldn’t be me. I blinked the images away, and focused on the room again and the children in it. I recognised one of the faces from the memory: the girl who was running beside me. I realised with a sickening lurch that she was missing an arm.

“Doesn’t look like we were successful,” I said.

Those children who were conscious looked up at me, their tired eyes filled with excitement.

“Commandant!” the girl said, propping herself up with her only good arm.

The word was picked up by the rest of the kids and echoed throughout the room. They stared at me, eyes wide, not in shock but in awe. As if their favourite pop star had come for a ward visit.

I was the Commandant? The head of ARES? How was that even possible? Nothing made sense in this reality. Children dying in a war I’d brought about? The city destroyed, all because I’d forced Frankie Anderson to undo her decisions. In unravelling all the subtle machinations she’d been carrying out for years – manipulating politicians and businessmen through their love for their children – I’d brought about this war. I’d thought I was stopping a monster Instead, I’d become one.

Sometimes, we have to become the very thing we’re fighting against,
a voice in my head said.

I shook it away. I wouldn’t accept it. More than that, I didn’t have to. I was a Shifter, after all.

I lay back down, turning away from Zac and the injured children. I couldn’t bear to look at them any longer. I had to think of a decision I could change. Something that wouldn’t make everything worse – if that was even possible. I picked over the last six months of my life, plucking at memories and then discarding them, like flicking through an old photo album. But everything I thought of led back to that moment at the top of the golden pyramid with Aubrey lying in my arms, dead. I knew that was crazy. There were a hundred different paths I could have taken. I could make sure Aubrey was never at the Pyramid. I could have chosen not to confront Frankie Anderson – let her carry on using children as political assassins. I could have never gone looking for her in the first place – simply closed the file on Project Ganymede and moved on. Not to mention the hundreds of tiny decisions I could undo, each one creating a new ripple, a new version in reality. Aubrey dying wasn’t a fixed moment. It could be avoided. I just needed to find the right pressure point and push. But I couldn’t get a grip on any of my memories. Each moment I thought of dissipated, as if I were trying to hold smoke. All because my mind kept returning to the agony I’d felt when I realised I’d lost Aubrey.