-Worlds Apart- Ruination (20 page)

“Kara, you’re the best emergency physician I’ve ever met, you’ll need to tend to Vanessa. You can anticipate fire and smoke related injuries,” Jon says and Kara nods. “And Jake, you’re the best damn pilot our city has. Ty will set the beacons and when he’s ready for the rescue he’ll activate his tracker. It’ll be programmed to the beacons so you’ll have a clear route from home base to their location.” Jake smirks, I can tell he’s one of those adrenaline junkies.

I clear my throat, “How do I do these beacon things? What if I mess up?”

Jon sits down, “You’ve got a lot of land to cover so you need to start tomorrow. You
will
succeed, there’s no other option.”

Chapter 31

Jon shakes me awake. “Ty. Ty,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” I yawn. It’s still dark outside and it feels like it’s been only a couple of hours since I crawled onto the couch.

“We have to get you to the rendezvous point. Mark will be waiting.”

I stumble to the bathroom. The steaming shower blasts me awake. I scour my body with Jon’s sweet-smelling soaps. It might be months before my next shower. I bend forward with the hot spray hitting my back. Jon’s got breakfast wrapped in foil before I’ve even toweled off.

“We need to leave now, daylight’s breaking and we
must
limit your exposure. You never know who could be looking for you,” he says and I nod grabbing my breakfast.

He escorts me outta the loft leading me to the underground. We pass two other people awake at this hour, a couple jogging along the park bordering Jon’s loft. Cutting through the park we take the stairs to the underground shuttle. Jon is all business. His focus travels to me, making me uneasy.

‘Crosstown D approaching the platform’ the overhead system announces.

Jon gives me a nod letting me know this is ours. The shuttle pulls to a halt and the doors lift upward revealing a half empty shuttle. I tug the blue backpack Jon gave me over my shoulders and step onto the shuttle. My eyes are set forward. I sense Jon trying to relax but his fidgeting gives him away.       

‘Mercury center’ the overhead announcement booms as Jon nudges me. The shuttle pulls to a stop and we file out, pressing between the now crowded vessel. I follow Jon from a distance just like he instructed last night. I think he’s paranoid but I keep moving forward telling myself we’re dealing with important matters and I should respect Jon’s choices. He takes the stairs two at a time as we climb the rounding flights exiting into an open landscape.

The outline of the city’s skyline lays behind us. Orange waves of the rising sun push between the buildings. Jon walks straight for a small grey hover at the end of the street. I hear it beep then hum to life as we get in range. Following his lead I climb into the craft. Once the doors are sealed he relaxes.

“We’re safe in here, I have it swept every day.”

“Swept?” I ask.

“You’re not the only person from beyond the divide that cares about our organization. For years Central’s been trying to infiltrate our unit. Nail us for any sort of treason possible. If they caught wind that I’m aiding you, let alone what we plan on doing, there’d be hell to pay.” His unease sort of makes sense now. He shifts the hover forward.

“All the precautions, the paranoia, it will be worth it in the end. Once your people are freed.”

“Why do you care what happens to us?” I ask. I don’t mean to sound rude but I do.

Jon turns, “Why does any man do what he does? For love.” I keep my mouth shut and wait for him to clarify but he doesn’t.

He pulls the hover from its street-side spot. My gut is instantly tossed into my throat. He’s a reckless driver, flooring it on the straight-aways and taking corners half tipped. By the time we reach the open stretch the sun’s risen and the mist that fell last night’s drying against the green grass. Trees fly by as we rocket forward. Without warning he careens the hover to the right throwing me against the door. We fire forward across the open land, grass and plants spiral as the hover skims over their tops. Jon shouts over the hum of the hover.

“We can’t take the main roads the whole way. Mark’s meeting us out here.”

He presses the lever into full throttle and we hurtle forward, weaving treacherously close to trees. My stomach flip-flops with every adjustment of the hover. I watch the gauge rise dangerously high as he throttles the hover faster and faster.

“Are we almost there?” I ask desperately. He smiles jerkin’ the throttle down. I’m slammed forward as he hits the emergency brake. We cut our way in a massive circle skidding to a stop inches from an enormous oak.

I’m a little pissed and questioning his sanity but then I’m laughing too. Mostly because he’s laughing. We carry on for several blinks before he stops.

“Listen Ty, you have to live, you have to test yourself. Make sure you have what it takes to make major moves. We’re about to make some
major
moves here.”

He releases the hatch and fresh air gusts between the open doors. I jump outta the hover as Jon whistles a complicated yellow-marlow call. We immediately hear one answered back from the distance.

“This way,” he says, taking me into the woods.

Occasionally Jon and Mark whistle to each other as a sort of honing system. Step after step we beat our way through the brush until we finally break the trees. There’s a gigantic hover that looks like it was dropped straight outta the sky. The trees shield it perfectly. There’s hardly any room between the hover and the pines.

Standing atop the massive black hover is an outsized man with graying hair. He’s obviously much older than Jon but he looks just as imposing. His whole body’s crammed and sorta awkwardly restricted in his plaid shirt and blue jeans.

“What do we have here!” He shouts as he leaps six feet off the back of the hover, landing gingerly on the ground.

“Mark! You old fool!” Jon barks as they hug each other.

“I must be a fool, agreeing to stick my neck out for you.”

“This is a good plan. It’s the beginning of the end my man, I promise.” Jon says, clasping his hands around Marks shoulders. Jon points to me, “This is Ty.” I step forward and Mark throws his hand out.

“Ty, nice to meet you,” Mark says.

“Same,” I answer as he releases me. Mark smiles, his teeth are white and straight.

“Jon hasn’t told me much about you but I trust him, if he says jump, I jump.”

Jon interrupts, “Well, now that the introductions are done I’ll see myself out of here.”

“Wait, you’re not stayin’?” I ask. Jon never told me the exact plans but I thought he’d stay longer.

“You two go it alone from here.” He says nodding his head. He turns beating his way through the pines.

“Well Ty, let’s get started. Catch.” Mark tosses me a military duffle bag. It almost knocks me off my feet. It slams into my chest racketing as its contents collide.

“What’s in here?” I ask.

“Beacons and supplies. We’re ten miles from the wall. We’re going to start laying the beacons. You’ll learn by doing, it’s the best way to get the skill down.” Mark starts walking my way. “I’ll cover the first eight miles with you. After that you’re on your own.”

I lower the bag to the ground and Mark stoops over pulling it open. I see hundreds of small black orbs with a single circular glass window that splits their round design. I pick one up, it fits nicely in my palm.

“This thing can block a hover detector?” I ask.

“Don’t let the size fool you. Hundreds of scientists dedicated their lives to creating this thing. They have enough energy to hide this craft,” he points to the black monstrosity behind us. “Problem is they’re only good for five hundred feet. This craft here’s nearly six hundred feet long.”      

I admire the scale of the hover. The black vessel has two enormous broad wings protruding from the side. At the base I can spot six reverse-flows facing the ground. Most hovers I’ve seen Central use only have four.

Mark grabs a beacon. “So here’s how it’s going to work. You’ll be wearing this,” he hands me a small grey box. “Every time you lay a beacon you sync it to this,” he taps the grey box to the beacon, its glass screen lets off three blue flashes. “Three blues means it’s connected. No flash means no go.” I nod my head. “Once it’s secured and synched,” he says, driving a stake through the ground and placing the beacon inside its basket. “Once those two things are done you just walk forward until that thing beeps.” He points to my grey box as he hauls off with half the supplies.

After five hundred feet the grey box beeps and I look down seeing the gauge flashing ‘five hundred.’ We beat the path through the woods walking, securing, synching, and repeat. Occasionally we come to ground that’s too solid to break. Mark shows me how to secure the beacons to the trunks of trees or bury them under nearby creek beds. We’re averaging just over thirty minutes a mile which isn’t bad considering the weight we’re carrying and the fact we have to stop so often. By one o’clock we’re at mile eight.

Sweat drips off Mark’s forehead. In fact his entire body’s saturated. “Well Ty, this is where I leave you.” He takes a huge swig from his canteen. “There are enough beacons to get you another eight miles. That’ll put you six miles inside the wall.” He turns my grey box on its side pointing to the two white buttons. “The craft can only come after sundown, it could be spotted during the day. Once you get to the end of your beacons wait until nightfall and hold these buttons down for five seconds.” He takes another swig of water. “It’ll alert us you’re ready for more. Jake’ll be standing by every night waiting. He’ll make the drop at your location and go back.”

“He’s gonna be riskin’ his neck daily? That’s nuts.” I say.

“He knows the risks, we all do. Trust me, we’ve all got our reasons for doing this.”

“If you say so.” I can’t imagine what his reason is; I guess it’s not my problem. Mark clasps my shoulder shoving his half of the supplies into my arms.

“Good luck.”

Chapter 32

It would be quiet if it wasn’t for the bags that clang together. The extra weight of Mark’s supplies slows me down. It takes forty-minutes to cover the swampy lands between miles eight and nine. No doubt this job sucks but I gotta stay focused on the end result. If I pull this off I’ll save her. Everything I’ve done for the last three years has revolved around this. Now that I’m finally here I gotta suck it up and do it.

It’s almost two o’clock and the wall should be coming soon. I keep walking forward till outta nowhere I see the top of the massive wall climbing above the tree line. The disgusting yellowing concrete towers and sits like an oppressive symbol corralling my people in.

I scan the top of the wall with the worn binoculars Mark left. Shit, a Borg. I make out his black boots, sleek helmet, and his gun cradled in his arms. He’s pacing waiting for someone like me.

Screw it I think as I stow the binoculars and keep walking. I pick my way to the point where I can’t risk securing any more beacons. My fingers wrestle with the worn strap until I free the binoculars again to confirm his position.

I lower the binoculars to ground level. I spot the disturbed ground I tunneled out from. It’s hard to believe it was only a week ago I escaped. It feels like a lifetime ago that I broke free and found Jon.

Luckily the Borg’s haven’t found the disturbance yet. According to Jon the wall’s constantly undergoing perimeter checks. His best guess is that they’ll re-check this area in another few days.

The binoculars hang from the strap around my neck as I thud down against a rounded boulder. The minutes grind by painfully slow. My stomach knots and growls until I pull out a protein bar from the side pocket of the duffle bag. Jon packed them for me. The texture reminds me of hay and mud mixed together.

Apparently I only need three a day to survive. At least I’ll have more time to secure the beacons since I won’t have to hunt or fish. Jon figured I needed to cover sixteen miles a day, putting me at roughly twelve-hour days. Each night I have to activate the box signaling Jake to come make the next drop.

Numbness spreads from my back to my feet. I’ve been sitting here for four hours waiting for the Borg to leave. It’s been twenty minutes since he stalked off. I have to make my move now. Jake needs me two miles inside the wall before he can make the drop. That means an hour of my work will be done in the dark tonight.

Thousands of needles jab my stiff legs as I stand. I shake em out and sling the duffle bags over my shoulders. It’s pretty impossible to be unassuming with two military bags and a backpack but I shrink down as low as possible and run forward.

I step onto the open field as my heart squeezes. The wheat grass sways in the breeze. I wish it was much taller. Instead it leaves my torso exposed, my most vital areas open to the Borg. I imagine him returning to his post, I can almost see my blood spraying across the wheat field. I’ve got to push on though. I sprint forward ten steps before my grey box beeps. I drop my bags, my sweaty hands fumble with the stake. I don’t even look to see if the Borg’s back, if he is I’m dead no matter what. I slam the stake with my hammer. It bangs as it drives into the ground and I cringe. I can hardly get a hold of the beacon my hands are so wet. I rub the sweat onto my pants. Shakily, I line the ball into position on the stake. My hands tremor as I place the grey box next to the orb. I wait for it to sync, time seems frozen. I wait for one of two things, either the blue flash or a Borgs flying bullet. At last the screen blinks blue.

Scooping up my bags I sprint forward, my heart beats fast. Two more times my grey box beeps reminding me to secure more beacons. Two times I’m a sitting duck waiting to be exterminated. I shake as I line the third orb to the box and wait. Again it flashes blue and I’m off. One hundred feet between me and the wall. I grab my bags and sprint for the tunnel. My bags slam against each other. I’m closing in. Just five steps and I’ll be there. The Borg’s booming voice echoes from above.