Dream Sky (34 page)

“That would be great,” Nyla said.

With a nudge from his friend, the driver helped Nyla guide Pax to the vehicle.

“Best if we put your backpacks in the trunk,” the nicer man said. “It’ll be a tight squeeze otherwise.”

“Oh, um, sure.” Nyla peeled off her pack. “Here, Mr. Paxton, let me help you with yours.”

After the bags were loaded up and Nyla and Pax were sitting in the backseat, the two men climbed in.

“You two know each other from before?” the nicer man asked as the driver started the car.

He never received his answer. Before the driver could drop the car in gear, Pax and Nyla placed guns—previously strapped to their legs—against the backs of the two chairs and pulled the triggers. They had chosen smaller-caliber pistols so the sound would be minimal. The choice also meant the Project Eden men had a higher chance of survival, but with the guns pressed against their backs, neither had a chance.

As soon as Pax and Nyla were sure the men were out of commission, they reached up front and hauled the driver into the back. Nyla slipped behind the wheel, while Pax ran his hand across the top of the backseat until he found the latch that allowed him access to the trunk.

Seat lowered, he pulled their bags through, dug out his radio, and clicked the talk button.

“Go!”

__________

B
EN TIPTOED THROUGH
the building, checking the other bunks. On his last pass, two of the others had been awake, but now they too had drifted off. When he reached the girls and Preston, he nodded, put a finger to his lips, and headed over to the door.

As soon as they’d joined him, he pointed at each of them in the order they would follow him, starting with Jilly. He slipped out the door and along the building to the shadow by the fence. He was already on his way toward the gate when he heard the faint sound of the door opening again as Jilly came out, followed immediately by Preston.

At the gate, he crawled into the short ditch and began scraping away at the dirt on the other side, temporarily leaving the grass above it. He only had to clear away enough so they could scoot under and up, maybe two feet out at most.

Every third or fourth time he pulled the dirt under the gate, he glanced up to check on the others. Like they had discussed earlier, they were lining up in the shadow along the fence, waiting until the hole was done.

The farther he went, the more the layer of grass drooped. Once he felt he’d gone far enough, he moved back inside the enclosure and whispered, “Get ready.”

Going under the gate on his back this time, he worked his fingers up through the grass and began pulling it down until the playing field tore loose at the edges. He ripped most of it out in a single large section and cleared away the rest, then pushed all the grass under the gate, knocking it out of the hole with a flick of his feet.

He stared up at the night sky. Things had gone well so far, but from this point forward everything would be improvisation. He lifted his head above the level of the grass and looked both ways. No one in sight.

He could feel his heart thumping, knowing the next step would put his life in serious danger.

It’s better than staying here
, he told himself.
You stay and you
will
die.

He counted to three and pulled himself the rest of the way under the gate and out of the hole. He got up into a crouch and took another look around. No sign of any movement.

Something scraped below him, then the chain link on the gate rattled momentarily. He shot a look down. Ruby was part of the way through, her hand holding the gate in an attempt to stop it from moving.

“Quiet,” he mouthed.

Her eyes were wide and scared, but she nodded. Slowly she let go of the fence, and relaxed when there was no more rattle.

Ben held out his hand, telling her to wait in the hole. He crept over to the outfield wall, which was covered by large blue sections of padding. Between the two mats at the very center was a crack through which he could see beyond the wall. He’d been right. It did open.

The problem was, how?

He ran his finger along the crack but found no release. He would have to go over, which meant he’d be in sight of every guard in the place. Maybe if he went quickly, he could—

A double
pop
.

He dropped to the ground.

The sound hadn’t been loud, but it had been unusual. He looked back toward the stands and realized he had just enough of an angle to see part of one guard. The man was leaning against a pole as if nothing had happened.

Had he not heard the noise? Or was it a normal sound around here that Ben hadn’t noticed before?

“What’s going on?” Jilly whispered, her voice barely drifting out of the hole.

He crawled over. “Did you hear that noise?”

“I heard something. Thought you made it.”

“Uh-uh.”

“What was it?”

“Don’t know.”

He looked back at the fence.

“Are we going to go or not?” she asked.

“Hold on. Let me—”

The sound of running steps stopped him. Not on the field, but farther away in the stands, and…receding.

He cautiously rose back to his feet and inched out until he could see the guard he’d noticed before, but no one was there. He inched out a little farther, checking to see if the guy had repositioned. He found that not only was the guard missing, but the next guard down was gone, too.

Emboldened, he continued pushing the boundaries until he was standing free of the holding area’s cover.

All the guards in the stands were gone.

For a full two seconds, he didn’t move.

Then he turned toward the center-field wall and ran.

__________

M
ARTINA WAS NOT
happy.

Gabriel had decided she would be on lookout, meaning she had to stay on the hill and report what was going on instead of being with everyone else headed to the stadium.

“You promised you would do what we told you,” he reminded her when she protested the assignment.

She hated him in that moment for reminding her, but she had taken the binoculars and remained behind.

From her vantage point, she was able to watch while Pax and Nyla were stopped in the parking lot and put in the car. Moments later, there was a bright flash from the interior, followed by the soft echo of the bullets.

Then Pax’s voice came over the radio. “Go!”

Martina moved the lenses from the car to the trees where group one was gathered. Seconds after Pax’s command, the group moved into the parking lot in a loose line. Though she couldn’t see them from here, she knew the other two groups were also making their way toward the stadium.

She switched her view to the interior of the stadium, focusing on the detention area she was sure her friends were in. Her brow furrowed.

What the…?

Someone was outside the gate, kneeling next to…a hole in the ground? Not only that, apparently someone was
in
the hole.

Oh, my God
, she thought.
They’re breaking out
.

The person who’d been kneeling suddenly shot up and looked inward at the stadium. She raised her glasses, trying to see what had drawn his attention. For a moment she couldn’t figure out what it was, then she realized the guards were gone.

She trained the glasses back on the guy on the field. He had moved away from the hole and was stepping slowly from the shadows into the lit open area to the right of the fence.

It wasn’t very long before he seemed to realized what she’d already discovered, because he turned and started running toward the back of the field.

Martina gasped.

As the man turned, his face had come into view.

Ben.

He was
alive!

Without another thought, she jumped up and began running down the hill.

__________

B
LEEP-BLEEP
.

Bleep-bleep.

Dr. Lawrence looked up from her desk, unsure where the noise was coming from.

Bleep-bleep.

Bleep-bleep.

Dr. Rivera grabbed the radio off the central table. He twisted a dial on top and the sound decreased.

The general alarm, Lawrence realized. It had been tested once when they first arrived but hadn’t been used since.

Suddenly the
bleeping
was replaced by the voice of Brooks, station director. “All security personnel report to entrances one, two, and four. Multiple individuals approaching.”

“Multiple?” Lawrence said.

“I repeat,” Brooks said. “All security personnel report to entrances one, two, and four. Multiple individuals approaching. Intake officers report to your stations.”

“That’s us,” Lawrence said, standing.

Rivera looked annoyed. “The others can handle this.”

“I’ll let you explain that to the director when she comes asking where you were.”

“Fine.” He pushed up.

On the way to the door, Lawrence swung by the observation room. The subject was stretched out on the cot, staring at the ceiling. Lawrence activated the intercom. “Ruby, how’s your headache?”

“Gone.”

“Excellent news.”

“I take it you are still feeling no other symptoms?”

“You take it right,” the girl said, not hiding her displeasure.

“Don’t worry. In the morning this will all be over,” Lawrence said with a smile before heading for the door where Rivera was waiting.

“Still no sign of infection?” he asked.

“None.”

__________

W
HILE THE TEAMS
drew the attention of the security personnel, Pax and Nyla drove over to the back of the stadium and hopped out of the car.

“Martina,” Pax said into his radio. “Have they pulled the guards from inside the stadium?”

No answer.

“Martina? Do you read me?”

He turned and looked toward the hill where she was supposed to be stationed.

“Martina?”

He saw someone enter the parking area from the base of the hill, running.

“Who the hell is that?” he said.

Nyla followed his gaze. “I’m not sure.”

“Is it Martina?”

“Could be.”

Two armed men ran out from the east side of the stadium, on an intercept course for the person Pax had spotted.

“Son of a bitch,” Pax said.

If it was Martina, there was no one around to help her.

“Come on,” he told Nyla as he headed back out into the parking lot.

__________

“S
TEADY,” GABRIEL SAID
just loudly enough for the others in his group to hear.

They were walking at a normal pace, hopefully projecting a sense they were not a threat. Their weapons, though, were all close at hand.

Ahead, five Project Eden soldiers were approaching. They, of course, were not even attempting to conceal their firepower. Each carried a rifle, the barrels angled at the sky.

When there were only about fifty feet between the guards and Gabriel’s group, one of the guards shouted, “Please hold right there.”

“Are we in the wrong place?” Gabriel said. “Isn’t this the survival station?”

“Yes, sir, it is, but we need you and the others to stop so we can talk with you.”

“Oh, sure. Everyone, it’s okay.”

The group came to a staggered halt, while the guards continued forward until they were only a few yards away.

The guard who’d spoken said something softly into a mic attached to his jacket. When he looked back at Gabriel, he said, “You’re a pretty big group.”

“Picked up people here and there on the way,” Gabriel said.

“What about the others?”

“What others?” Gabriel asked, feigning confusion.

“Got a couple other groups about the same size as yours coming in on the other side of the stadium.”

Gabriel made a big show of sighing in relief. “I’m so glad to hear that. I thought we’d lost them.”

“They’re with you?”

“Yes. We got separated once we reached the city. I’m glad to hear they’re okay.” Gabriel stuck his hand out and stepped forward. “I’m Gabriel.”

The move took the man off guard. He hesitated, then removed his hand from the stock of his rifle and shook Gabriel’s.

Gabriel had the man’s rifle before the guy had a chance to react. The main guard grabbed for his radio, but Gabriel smashed the butt of the gun into his hand, batting it away and breaking bones in the process. He looked over and saw the rest of his team, led by Resistance security members, had disarmed the other guards.

“Ramon,” he said. “Please take possession of this man’s radio.”

As Ramon removed the device, the guard said, “What the fuck? This is not the way to get our help.”

“That’s funny,” Gabriel told him. “I hadn’t realized Project Eden was in the business of helping.”

The guard stiffened. “Who are you?”

As tempted as Gabriel was to answer with another thrust of the rifle butt, he motioned to the others that it was time to move. Keeping the guards between them, they hurried the rest of the way to the stadium.

Gabriel took a quick look around, and then pointed at a metal pipe railing meant to protect the public from a sunken drainage intake. “That should do nicely,” he said.

They secured the guards to the railing with zip ties.

“Whatever you’re planning,” the main guard said, “do you really think you’re going to get away with it?”

Gabriel plucked his own radio off his belt and clicked the
SEND
button. “Team B?”

The delay was barely a second. “Team B secure.”

“Team C?”

Again, a brief pause. “Team C secure.”

“Anyone have any problems?”

“Negative.”

“None here.”

“Stand by,” Gabriel said. He looked at the guard. “Actually, I think we’ve already gotten away with it.”

Hypodermics were produced, and before the guards realized what was going on, they were each injected with enough sedative to knock them out for at least twelve hours.