Embattlement: The Undergrounders Series Book Two (A Young Adult Science Fiction Dystopian Novel) (23 page)

I
throw
a frantic glance down the tunnel, but the last Rogue has disappeared from sight. I’m all alone with this madman.

The Ghost presses the flat side of the blade against my windpipe.

Fear prickles my skin like icy dew. “It had nothing to do with you!” I say. “It was a trade to save my brother.”

“Let the girl go!” a voice booms.

The Ghost jumps back from me and spins around, knife poised.

I shine my flashlight behind us.

Big Ed’s familiar frame fills the tunnel, his silver stag rifle pointed at The Ghost’s chest.

My fingers fly to my throat. “Big Ed,” I cry out, hoarse with equal measures of shock and relief.

He gestures with the muzzle of his gun at the knife in The Ghost’s hand. “Sheath it.”

The Ghost slowly replaces the knife in his belt without taking his eyes off Big Ed. “Who are you, old man?”

“I’m your worst mountain-man nightmare. Now turn around and move before I make you into jerky!”

The Ghost wets his lips. He throws me a dark look as he squeezes by me. When he’s disappeared into the darkness up ahead, I turn and throw myself into Big Ed’s arms. “How did you find us?” I ask.

His face crinkles into a smile. “There’s no way to move this many people through the forest without a mountain man knowing about it. I picked up your trail on my way to the city. Didn’t realize them other Rogues weren’t with you until they took off after the fire.”

I frown. “Any sign of anyone else following us? Nikki is out there somewhere on her own. She left without us.”

Big Ed rubs his chin thoughtfully. “So Jakob said. I haven’t seen her.”

“You saw Jakob outside?”

Big Ed purses his lips. “I had a few thousand words with him for taking off after you all without telling me. But, we’ve made our peace.”

I nod, blinking back tears. I’m overjoyed to see Big Ed, but I can’t help wishing Jakob was on board too. I don’t have a good feeling about leaving him behind.

“We should catch up with the others,” I say.

Big Ed adjusts the brim of his cowboy hat and holsters his gun. We venture forward into the semi-darkness, the wan beams of our flashlights lending a ghoulish tint to the tunnel walls.

“I see you managed to recruit the Rogues,” Big Ed says. “Although judging by what I seen so far, the relationship’s a little prickly.”

I grimace. “That’s their infamous leader
The Ghost
. We have major trust issues. Not a good way to go into battle.”

Big Ed furrows his brow. “The battle will unite you. It’s afterward you need to watch your back.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

“First things first. What’s the plan once we reach the Craniopolis?” Big Ed asks.

“We’ve agreed to evacuate the deviations first. Our plan is to lay explosives in some of the tunnels to block the Sweepers’ access and provide an escape route for the deviations to the Biotik Sektor. Then we launch the attack on the rest of the Craniopolis. Jakob thinks if we could capture Lyong, we could force the Sweepers to surrender without bloodshed. We’re holding Lyong’s son, Sook, hostage, so we might be able to lure Lyong out of hiding if we set up a deal to trade Sook for Owen.” I hesitate. “Sook confirmed that Owen's alive.”

Big Ed’s bushy brows shoot up. “So Rummy wasn’t jerking your chain after all. I like the idea of a hostage exchange to trap Lyong.”

“I just don’t know if I can talk the Rogues into anything short of butchering the Sweepers,” I add.

He scratches at his forehead. Maybe not. There’s some that love darkness more than light. But you’ve aligned yourself with them now.”

“Not all the Rogues are a lost cause,” I say. “One of them helped a couple of kids escape the raids.”

“So there’s one good hide worth saving among them,” Big Ed muses.

I frown. “But how can I do that if I don’t even know who it is?”

“You save them all. Set up the deal.” He fixes a rheumy-eyed gaze on me. “War is always an obstacle to be avoided in the path to freedom, as far as it depends on you.”

“Now you sound like Jakob,” I grumble.

He pushes his glasses up his nose and sets his lips.

I have the sense he’s done talking so I focus on navigating my way through the rest of the tunnel. I can at least run the idea by the others. If there’s a way to avoid turning the Craniopolis into a kill zone, I need to make a good faith effort to find it. And I have no qualms about deceiving Lyong in the process. The lure of a trade may give us an opportunity to capture him.

A shaft of light comes into view as we round a bend in the tunnel. “We’re here!” I call over my shoulder to Big Ed.

I hustle over to the rope ladder dangling down into the tunnel and begin climbing. Sven reaches down and yanks me up the last few feet. “Welcome to the Biotik Sektor’s mechanical room,” he says, with a hesitant smile.

“We were starting to get worried about you,” Trout says, slapping me awkwardly on the shoulder.

“With good reason, as it turns out,” I say, sliding a glance through an open door at The Ghost. “I got stuck with that psychopath. He pulled a knife on me. Thankfully my guardian angel showed up just in time.”

I turn my head in time to see Big Ed clamber out of the tunnel after me. He nods, throws a curious glance around and then slips through the door leading to the Biotik Sektor.

Trout’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “How did he find us?”

I give a wry grin. “Mountain man powers. He tracked us to the city, and then followed our trail here.”

I brush myself off and accompany Sven and Trout into a gleaming communal seating area. The space is furnished with white pod chairs on flexible stems that look like they can be adjusted to various heights and to tilt in any direction. Oval-shaped tables on stems float at various heights among the chairs. I throw myself into one of the chairs and lean back. The armrests are outfitted with control panels similar to the ones in a Hovermedes. I restrain myself from playing with the options, and look around the room. Rogues and Undergrounders wander around, warily examining the sparse furnishings. Big Ed has already made himself comfortable in another pod chair, his cowboy hat nestled in his lap.

The Ghost ventures over to us, his expression strained. “Is it safe here?”

Sven nods. “The Sweepers never come into our living quarters.”

“Not even after they discovered the tunnel?”

“The Sweepers have no idea the tunnel the deviations worked on was ever completed, or that we built a connector tunnel from the Biotik Sektor,” Sven says. “Neither do the clones who live here. Mason and I weren’t sure we could trust them to keep it a secret until it was finished.”

“Thought you said your contacts would help us.” The Ghost says. “Where are all the clones?”

“Work duty,” Sven replies, glancing up at a hologram display on the back wall. “They won’t be released back to the Biotik Sektor until five-thirty this evening.”

“So who answered the radio?” Trout asks.

Sven hesitates. “I can’t say for sure. The clones monitor it as often as they’re able.”

Trout frowns. “We still don’t know why the radio went down.”

“Probably just lost the signal,” Sven says.

A flicker of suspicion crosses The Ghost’s face. “So we hide out in here until nightfall,” he says. “Then what?”

“Get Jerome over here and we’ll go over the plan together,” Sven says. “I need to grab some blueprints of the Craniopolis.”

I signal to Jerome to join us, and then pull a nearby table over to our seating area. The Ghost slumps down in a chair opposite me, shooting daggers my way. Big Ed lumbers over and hefts himself into the chair next to me. The Ghost scowls at him too, but keeps his mouth shut; maybe the jerky threat unsettled him. Jerome pulls over another pod chair on an adjustable stem. The mood is tense, and not just because of what lies ahead of us. The unwelcome alliance between us is shaky at best, and everyone seated around the table can feel it.

A few minutes later, Sven reappears with several large rolls under his arm.

Trout raises his brows. “Those look archaic.”

“All hand drawn,” Sven says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Pieced together by the deviations who clean and maintain every inch of this facility.”

He spreads out a page in front of us and jabs his forefinger at it. “This is the tunnel we need to set the explosives in. That will give the deviations an opportunity to make their way unhampered to the Biotik Sektor.”

The Ghost leans forward in his chair and stares intently at Sven. “We’re not a charity. We can’t waste time on evacuations. The deviations fight for their freedom like everyone else.”

“That’s not an option,” Jerome replies. “They aren’t capable of fighting.”

“You seem pretty capable,” The Ghost retorts.

Jerome clenches his jaw. “Maybe it’s time you saw exactly who you’re talking about.” He turns to the control panel in his pod chair and keys in a sequence of numbers. Above us, a fuzzy hologram displays some kind of living facility within the Craniopolis. Not altogether dissimilar from the Biotik Sektor.

“What is that place?” I ask, shrinking back as the hologram comes into focus. A handful of misshapen figures lope around in aimless circles, others sit hunched over, staring at the ground in front of them. A few engage in sporadic conversation.

“This is the Terminus Sektor, where the deviations live,” Jerome explains. “These are the ones who can’t hold down even a menial job, due to extreme physical deformities, or mental incapacity. Their sole reason for existence is genetic research.” Jerome eyes The Ghost coldly. “Still want the deviations to fight?”

“Fight? They don’t even look like they can walk straight!” The Ghost gives a twisted smile. “So how exactly are you planning to move this bunch of retards through the forest, if you can get them out of here in the first place?”

I glare at him. “They’re human beings with hearts. One of them saved my life, which is more than you’d do.” I take a quick steadying breath. “We may not have to move them. There’s another option we haven’t fully explored.”

Jerome frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“If we can capture Lyong, the Schutz Clones will have to surrender the Craniopolis to us.”

“It’s impossible,” Jerome says.

“Difficult, but not impossible. We could lure Lyong outside the Craniopolis by setting up a trade. Sook for Owen.”

I turn to The Ghost. “If we need to sweeten the pot to make him bite, we’ll throw Rummy in too.”

An amused flicker crosses The Ghost’s face. “That’s a nice touch.”

I’m thankful he can’t hear the pounding of my heart. The only reason I’d be taking Rummy with me would be to keep my word and give him a chance to escape from The Ghost.

Sven nods and folds his arms over his chest. “Lyong doesn’t need to know we’ve already infiltrated the Craniopolis. We could send him a hologram message, detailing when and where to meet us for the exchange, somewhere on the edge of the forest. We can split into two groups, one to handle the exchange, and one to take control of the Craniopolis while Lyong is occupied with retrieving his son.”

Trout rubs a hand over his brow. “What about Schutz Clones? He won’t come alone.”

A hint of a smile spreads across Sven’s face. “I can hack into the rotation and replace the Schutz Clones on duty with clones I trust. Lyong won’t know who’s beneath the helmets.”

“Once Lyong makes the trade, and Owen is safe,” I continue, “Sven can give the order and have the clones take Lyong hostage.”

“We’ll still need to have everything in place for plan B in case we can’t pull this off,” Jerome says. “If something goes wrong, our only option then will be to evacuate the deviations and fight.”

“Is there any way to help the scientists who want out too?” I ask.

“There’s a scientist in the Research Sektor I trust,” Sven says. “If she can get whoever wants out to the Biotik Sektor before we blow the tunnels, they can leave with the deviations.”

“Do you have any way to contact her?” I ask. “We need to give her a deadline.”

“It’s got to be five o’clock,” Jerome says. “Everyone has to be here in the Biotik Sektor before the clones return from work duty.”

“I can send her an encrypted message,” Sven says. “I have a dark network set up, but we can’t access it from the control panels on these chairs. Come with me.”

We get up and follow Sven into a long, rectangular room that houses a conference table of sorts. He opens a closet door, reaches inside, and removes the panel at the back of the closet. He fumbles inside and pulls out a flexible transparent screen and keyboard. We gather around the conference table, eying each other warily as he begins tapping away on the keyboard. It’s the only sound I hear above our shallow breathing until a loud crash renders Sven’s fingers motionless.

S
ven puts
a finger to his lips, then reaches for his gun and treads silently across the room toward the large cabinet at the back. He hesitates for a moment, lines up his weapon and then yanks open the door.

“Don’t shoot!”

A small figure tumbles out and scrambles to his feet, his freckled face taut with fear.

Brock!

My jaw drops. I look over at Trout’s dumbfounded face, and then my feet kick into action. I dash across the room and squeeze Brock in a crushing hug. My eyes well up with tears of relief. “How did you get here?” I ask, releasing him.

“A Sweeper in the Intake Sektor smuggled me down here.”

I stare at him, still scarcely able to fathom it’s him and that he’s unharmed. “Why would a Sweeper help you?”

He shrugs. “She asked me how I got extracted. When I said your name, she looked at me real funny. She snuck me down here and told me to hide if anyone showed up before she came back.”

“My name?”
I frown. “What did she look like?”

“Dark-skinned, her name was … Panda, or something weird like that.”

Trout reaches for Brock by the shoulders. “Panju! Is she all right?”

Brock frowns. “She’s missing an arm. She said she can’t work in the lab again until she gets her new one.”

A shadow passes over Trout’s face. He releases Brock and throws me an agonized look.

I turn to Sven, my heart pounding. “You need to have your contact bring Panju to the Biotik Sektor too. We can’t leave her behind.”

Sven nods. “I’ll do what I can.” He walks back to the keyboard and begins typing again. “First, I need to try and line up the military clones to replace Lyong’s bodyguards for the next shift. This could take some time.”

The Ghost turns to Jerome. “How do we get some food in here? My men are hungry.”

Jerome throws him an amused look. He walks over to what looks like a sculpted faucet coming out of the wall and taps on the keypad beside it. A hologram display of food items appears.

“Name your poison,” Jerome says.

The Ghost stares dubiously at the display for a moment. “Steak, rare.”

“You got it.” Jerome stabs at the keypad and the faucet spits out a one by one inch square of something the color of recycled paper pulp.

“What is this junk?” The Ghost picks it up and sniffs it. “This ain’t food.”

“It’s lyopholized food, dehydrated, macrobiotic nutrients.”

“Quit griping and put it under your tongue!” Big Ed calls across to The Ghost. “Then tell me it ain’t food.”

The Ghost takes another quick sniff, before popping the entire square into his mouth. His expression of misgiving turns to one of astonishment. He hits the keypad and pulls up the hologram food display again.

“Bad news,” Sven says, coming up to us. “I made contact with the military clones, but the dark network went down before I could get a message to the scientist.”

“There must be some other way to reach her,” I say.

“Not unless we go to the research lab, and that’s too risky.”

Trout glances up at the hologram feed from the Terminus Sektor. “If we were able to blend in, we could move freely around the Craniopolis, right?”

Sven frowns. “What are you suggesting?”

“What if a maintenance crew paid the lab a visit?”

“Deviations?” I ask, raising my brows.

Trout grins. “With one new addition. I reckon I could fake it.”

I shake my head. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Sven says. “And that’s how we’ll set the explosives in the tunnels too. The Sweepers never question maintenance crews making their rounds.”

I give a resigned nod. “All right,” I say, turning to Trout. “But don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

Jerome turns to me. “I’ll line up the crews to get Trout and the other Undergrounders into position. You, Big Ed and Sven are in charge of setting up the trade with Lyong.”

“I get the feeling I’m not being included in some important plans,” The Ghost says, joining the circle.

Jerome runs his eye over The Ghost’s tattoos. “You’ll draw too much unwanted attention. You and your men stay put in the Biotik Sektor until after dark. If Lyong surrenders, your job will be to disarm the clones. Be prepared to fight your way out of here if things don’t go according to plan.”

I glance across the room and meet Rummy’s stare. He raises his brows questioningly and I give a subtle nod. I can’t leave him alone with The Ghost. I gave him my word he’d have his chance to escape. I have no choice but to bring him with me to make the exchange. After that, he’s on his own.

“Time to find out if Lyong has any heartstrings left to pull,” Sven says, after Jerome and Trout head off to change into maintenance uniforms. He walks over to the back of the room where Sook is tied up next to Rummy and pulls him to his feet. “You get one phone call,” he says. “Let’s see if Daddy wants you home or not.” He positions Sook in a pod chair, hands bound in front of him, and calls up a hologram feed. Sven hands me a sheet of paper. “Hold this up for Sook to read.”

“Lyong will know we’re inside the Craniopolis if you film it here,” I say.

“I won’t transmit a live feed. I’ll doctor the background with some footage from the forest.” Sven places a card in Sook’s lap and leans into his glistening face. “Hold these coordinates up to the screen, and read from the sheet in Derry’s hands. And make it convincing, because if you don’t, you’re not going to be of any use to us anymore. Got it?”

Sook blinks furiously, and nods.

Sven adjusts something on the control panel. “Okay, we’re rolling.”

Sook swallows hard and stares straight ahead at the sheet I hold out in front of me. “I am Sook, son of Lyong. I was captured by the Undergrounders two months ago. They will negotiate a trade for Owen Connelly, an Undergrounder being held in the Craniopolis. The trade must take place in precisely two hours at these coordinates. My father, Lyong, must be present at the exchange. Failure to comply with any of these conditions will result in my … my execution. I beg you to meet the Undergrounders’ demands and save my life.” Sook drops his head into his chest and takes a shaky breath.

Sven smirks. “Delivery was a little flat, but you showed some emotion there at the end. Might be enough to tug at the old man’s heartstrings.”

Sook’s beady eyes dart from Sven to me. “You aren’t really going to kill me, if he doesn’t show.”

“We won’t get the chance,” Sven says. “The Rogues are hungry for Sweeper blood, and they’ll begin with yours if this doesn’t pan out.”

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of Sook’s nose.

Sven taps for a few minutes on the control panel and then lets out a relieved sigh. “It went through.”

“Let’s head back out through the tunnel,” I say. “We need to reach Jakob before Lyong shows up.”

Sven nudges Sook to his feet and we walk out to the communal area. Trout and several other Undergrounders are grouped in a corner dressed in the shapeless gray tunics worn by the deviations. “Good luck,” Trout says, giving me an awkward grin.

“You too,” I say. “However this goes down, thanks for … for everything.”

Trout nods, and adjusts the strap of his gun over his shoulder. “See you on the other side.”

I follow Sven over to the entrance into the tunnel. Rummy, Big Ed and several Undergrounders are already climbing down inside. The Ghost stares at me, his lips pressed together in a tight line of loathing below his pencil-thin mustache. He leans in and whispers. “Happy trading. Rummy’s hide’s gotta be worth something.”

I shudder, reminding myself I’ll be thankful for his predatory instincts if this trade falls through. Blade throws me a parting look of hatred, taps his tattooed knuckles to his chest in a way that signals a primal threat. I wonder if he has any idea that The Ghost is selling his brother out.

I trudge along the tunnel, my feet dragging. I’m about to come face to face once again with the man I detest more than any Rogue. A man whose face I never wanted to have to see again. A shiver runs across my shoulders. It feels as if there are a hundred thousand critters crawling below the surface of my skin.

After what seems like an eternity of shuffling along dirt walls, we surface again in the cool forest. I straighten up and brush the worst of the grime from my clothes.

“Derry!” Jakob runs toward me.

I exhale softly. “We set up the trade.”

He smiles gently. “You did the right thing.”

“Let’s go,” Sven calls over to us. “We need to get to those coordinates before Lyong does.”

The Undergrounders fall into formation behind him, and we pound a path along the trail until we reach a generous clearing about half a mile from the mouth of the tunnel.

“This is the spot,” Sven says, a grave expression on his face. “I’ll hide Sook so Lyong can’t attempt an extraction.” He checks the rope around Sook’s wrists, then disappears into the undergrowth with him.

Big Ed turns to Rummy. “Why’s he here?”

“I made a deal with him,” I say. “And I always keep my word.” I take my knife and slice the rope securing Rummy’s left arm to his side.

Rummy flexes his arm and scrutinizes me. “You left me without a weapon once, and I got me one the only way I knowed how.” He gestures at Big Ed’s rifle, then raises his brows questioningly. “What’s it to be this time?”

I turn to one of the Undergrounders. “Set Rummy up with a weapon.”

The Undergrounder walks over and retrieves a gun from one of the supply packs.

I slap an extra clip into Rummy’s left palm. “I don’t know how you plan to shoot with your arm in a sling, but we’re even now. I don’t owe you another minute of my life, so don’t ever come back.”

Rummy gives a subtle nod. “You got it, Butterface.” He turns and wades off into the sea of ferns to the left of the trail. Within minutes the thud of his footsteps has died away, absorbed by the dense foliage. I take a quick breath before rejoining the others. His is another face I won’t miss.

“Do you think Lyong will show,” I ask Sven, out of earshot of Sook.

“We’re about to find out,” Sven says. “If he does, it means he wants his son back. In that case, I doubt he’ll risk Sook’s life by trying to double cross us, but I’ll have the Undergrounders take up sniper positions, just in case.”

He exchanges a few words with them, and several Undergrounders retreat into the undergrowth and scale the surrounding trees.

I pace back and forth, eying the horizon. “Are you sure we’re in the right spot?” I ask.

Sven frowns. “Just stay calm, he has a few more minutes.”

I twist my hands together. “How am I supposed to keep calm? I’m about to see my brother again, after thinking all this time he was dead.”

Sven stiffens, then peers up through the treetops, one hand tented over his eyes.

“What is it?” I ask, my heart pounding faster. I anxiously scan the horizon. I can’t see or hear anything, yet, but I’ve learned to trust Sven’s enhanced faculties.

“It’s a Hovermedes.” Sven points at the distant horizon. “Headed this way. Time to get Golden Boy into position.” He tromps into the undergrowth and returns a moment later guiding Sook by the shoulder.

The Undergrounders gather around, and we watch, transfixed, as the Hovermedes comes into view and begins a staggered descent. A spasm of fear goes through me. We’ve come this far, but there are so many things that could still go wrong. What if Sven’s military clones weren’t able to replace the bodyguards? Or what if Lyong tries to extract us? What if Owen's not in the ship with him? I try to slow my breathing, but my brain twists and turns in a sea of bleak scenarios.

The Hovermedes sinks soundlessly to the ground on retractable support legs. I shudder again at how insidiously quiet the extraction ships are. It takes all my willpower to hold my position and not run.

Minutes tick by, and then a pneumatic door pops open and slides seamlessly across the body of the Hovermedes. I can taste the tang of my fear in my throat. Beside me, Sook’s agitated breathing quickens as we wait to see who will emerge from the ship.

An automated step floats out from beneath the doorway. Two clones dressed in black Schutz Clone fatigues exit the ship and stand to attention on either side. I slide my gaze sideways at Sven for reassurance, but his face is impassive. There’s no way for him to know who the clones are beneath the helmets.

A moment later, a skeletal figure emerges, backlit in the blinding afternoon sun. He shuffles forward and descends the step, clutching tightly to a metal handrail. Another figure comes into view behind him, dressed in some shapeless, gray tunic, hands bound in front of him, a black hood over his head.

“Bring my son to me!” Lyong calls to us, waving a feeble hand in Sook’s direction, as he rocks back and forth on his heels.

“How do we know that’s really Owen under the hood?” Sven calls back.

Lyong snaps his fingers impatiently, and one of the Schutz Clones hurries up the steps and snatches the hood off the hunched figure.
Owen!
My heart kicks against my rib cage. I slide my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming out his name.

Sven escorts Sook forward a few feet, one hand on his shoulder. “Bring Owen down here first,” he calls out. “We’ll meet in the middle.”

The Schutz Clone escorts Owen down the steps after Lyong, and then resumes his position at the side of the Hovermedes. Lyong pokes a finger in Owen's side and I watch, transfixed, as they slowly walk toward us. My heart thunders in my chest. A few more feet and they’ll be well past the Schutz Clones’ reach. I hold my breath, willing Lyong to take another unsteady step toward us.

A loud thrashing in the undergrowth breaks the spell. Lyong startles, spins around, and puts a gun to the back of Owen’s head. My heart freezes over.