Strikeforce (2 page)

3

Cassius keyed in the six-digit code and stepped back to allow the door to slide open before him. His hand trembled at his side. He made sure to steady it before moving into the room.

It was one of the bunker's larger living areas, outfitted with two dozen beds positioned up and down each side like an army barrack. A long gray rug ran down the middle, the only attempt to make the place look inviting.

It was also the home of their Drifter allies, at least the few that they'd managed to find before heading underground. The Drifters preferred to be housed together like this, separate from the humans. Cassius supposed that if he was on an unfamiliar planet in the midst of a war, he'd want to be amongst similar types as well. And although he still didn't feel it, stepping inside this room was doing exactly that.

He tried to force Madame's words from his head. Even looking at her infuriated him. There was a time, years ago, where her face had been the one he'd longed for most. He'd called her “Mother,” even if she hadn't one hundred percent acknowledged it herself. But ever since she'd started lying to him, then
hunting
him, he couldn't use the word anymore.

He scanned the room. Some of the Drifters crouched on the beds. Others stood in groups, whispering in a language he didn't have any hope of understanding. They all looked human enough, of varying ages and heights, but even if he couldn't easily say why, there was something off about them. The residual glow from the Pearl energy had long since faded from their bodies. Instead, regardless of age, their skin was a pale, babylike complexion. Any wrinkles that were present were surface deep at best. No pockmarks or pimples. The sight of it reminded Cassius of the first time he'd burst into flames. It was as if the voyage from Haven to Earth had seared their bodies of any imperfections.

Angels.

The thought had occurred to him more than once before. In a strange way, they almost looked heaven sent.

Every last one of them turned to stare the moment he stepped through the door.

They were sensitive like that. Good hearing. It made sneaking up on them difficult, not that he'd ever want to try something like that.

He raised a hand. “Hello.”

They stared at him in silence for a moment. Then Talan—one of the more advanced English speakers they'd freed from a Pearl more than a week ago—moved forward to
meet him.

“Cassius.” The Drifter said his name in a way that made Cassius feel like he'd snuck up on something illicit, that these aliens were planning something he shouldn't be privy to. “Greetings, my friend.”

He glanced up at the Drifter's eyes. Talan's pupils were a dull green. He still held the faintest amount of Pearl energy he'd come to Earth with, though it was buried deep inside.

“We're flatlining,” Cassius said. “It's always the same when too many people talk at once. Nothing gets done.”

Talan nodded. “Have you come to discuss Haven?”

“No,” Cassius responded. This wasn't the first time he or Fisher had been in to see the Drifters. After all, their information was invaluable. Though they hadn't been able to reveal anything new regarding the Authority's plans for conquering Earth, just hearing about his home planet was like a drug to Cassius. The more he knew, the more real it felt. Simple things like the planet's geography and seasons made the abstract seem so much more real in his mind. “I just … I needed to get away for a moment.” He bit his lip. “She'd look for me in my room. She doesn't like coming here.”

Talan nodded. “Your Earth mother.”

“She's not—” He stopped himself. “She doesn't have anything to do with me. Not anymore.”

“I see.” Talan stepped back to take a seat at the edge of a cot. “Well, you're very welcome in our chamber, though you'll notice there are not many distractions. We've been discussing the war at hand, as I'm sure you'd expect. As you say, the longer we're hidden down here, the greater chance Matigo has of taking over without our resistance.”

Cassius leaned against the wall. “Where do you think he is?”

“Anywhere,” Talan responded. The other Drifters looked on in reverent silence. “He arrived before any of us, just as the war on Haven was beginning to disintegrate. He's been on Earth for more than a year now … that much is sure. Beyond that, he could be hiding anywhere. Close. Far. It's inconsequential, really. If the rumors are true, he's powerful enough to be an
ywhere he wants to be in no time at all.”

“Meaning he could attack us down here? I mean, if he really wanted to?”

“
I suppose,” Talan said. “But it seems to me that Matigo … that the Authority as a whole is waiting for something. Ther
e is nothing rash about his plan. He's hidden this long. It d
oesn't appear that he's opposed to waiting longer.”

“For me,” Cassius replied. “And Fisher. Right? He's waiting for us.”

“You are the key to our Resistance. That's all we know. I wish there was more. Your parents would know.”

Cassius ground his fist against the wall. “Well, my parents aren't here right now.” He paused. “Besides, you're wrong.”

“About what?”

“I'm not the Key,” he muttered. “I'm the Catalyst, remember? The rea
ction. The excess to Fisher's po
wer.”

Talan stood, shaking his head. “You're mistaken, Cassius. You're every bit as important as your brother, if not more so.”

“And how do you know that?”

“The Key cannot exist without the Catalyst,” Talan continued. “Together, the two of you are stronger than anything Matigo could imagine.”

Cassius tried hard not to chuckle at the words. He pictured the times he and Fisher had fought together, the mistakes and messes they'd made.

“We're lucky to be alive,” he said. “Let alone
strong
. The best thing we've done is bring down an entire Skyship … brought in the whole of the Authority to conquer the planet. You know what … maybe we just need to stay out of the entire thing. Let the Chosens and the Skyships fight it out. I mean, what have we done so far that's worth celebrating?”

Talan frowned, then moved forward to grip Cassius's shoulder. “Wait and see, my friend. Wait and see. You may think you're a small part in the grand scheme of things, but my companions here … we've bet our entire existence on you and your brother. Wait. Your hour will come, and you will not disappoint.”

Cassius brushed free from the Drifter's grip, meeting his eyes for a moment more before turning and heading for the door, his heart heavy with a looming sense of dread.

“I can't be here,” he muttered. “I can't be in any room down here.” He craned his neck, closing his eyes. “It used to be so simple, you know? Before all of this. When I knew who I could trust and what … what I'm supposed to do.”

Talan's voice came from behind him, but the Drifter made no attempt to approach. “There are no easy answers, I'm afraid. Trust in yourself. You'll do what's right. You'll know it when the time comes. It's like a second skin, the destiny you wear. You're not used to it. It's new. But it fits you completely—inside and out. You are a champion, Cassius Stevenson. Never forget that.”

4

That first night in the bunker, sleep had come so easy. It helped that I'd been running around from city to city without any shut-eye. Right now, I wouldn't mind a bit of exhaustion. Insomnia is ten times worse.

It's not so different from back at the Academy, except down here the corridors are impossibly dark, lit only by tiny circle-shaped nightlights every few yards. No moonlight streaming in to give a sense of perspective. Together, the hallways form a large rectangle, branching off here and there but offering little in the way of escape. Basically, there's nowhere to go but your room if you want to be alone.

Avery Wicksen sits across from me on the opposite side of the corridor, back against the wall, knees up. I'm against the other, slumped into a shape that can't be good for my posture. My chin's pressed into my chest, knees just far enough apart to frame her face. We bounce a rubber ball back and forth—an oddly lo-fi relic Skandar found in the bunker's pitiful rec room. Disregarding everything that's happening above us, it's just like old times. We're out of our rooms, sneaking around when we should be sleeping. Except neither one of us really has the energy to do much sneaking. It's mostly sitting.

“I had that dream again last night.” My voice rebounds against the silent walls, though I try to keep it at a whisper.

Avery bounces the ball once more before cupping it in her hand. She brushes her straw-colored hair over her ear, eyes narrowing. “Falling off the building?”

“It gets worse the longer we're down here.” I yawn. My body wants to conk out. It's my mind that won't let me.

“Do you think it means something?”

“I don't know.” The truth is, I've learned never to discount my dreams, especially if they repeat over and over. “The fire was stronger this time. It came down at me, got inside me.”

“Cassius's fire?”

“I think so.” I catch the ball. “He's getting antsy.”

“We all are.”

“Yeah, but I think it's worse for him. He's not a sitter, or a waiter. And I think I'm starting to feel the same. I mean, I know we're safe down here, but it doesn't feel right.”

She yawns. “Do you ever wonder what Captain Alkine's
up to?”

“I'm sure Skyship's still hunkered down in Siberia. They'd have seen the red Pearls by now.” I pause. “Hopefully they're safe.”

Avery sighs. “It's the not knowing, isn't it? That's the worst.”

“I think I liked it better when we were running around on the Surface.”

“I had the same feeling when Madame brought me back to the Lodge,” she says. “Hooked up to her devices, not knowing whether you were in danger or not. It's killer.” She meet
s my eyes, biting her lip. “But you know, maybe the darkness isn't all bad. We could make the most of it.”

My brows rise. There was a time, not too long ago, where the mere idea of Avery coming on to me would have sent my head reeling. In my mind, it would have been impossible, something I could only dream about.

Now, down here in the darkness, she's what I could safely—maybe—call my girlfriend. And with everything that's going on, I can't even enjoy it.

“I don't—”

Something in the distance stops me. I tilt my head to make sure that I'm not imagining it. If I hadn't walked down these corridors countless times in the past few days, it would be impossible to tell how long they stretched. Dark is dark, no matter how far it reaches. Pools of black surround us on either side.

Except for the tiny red light.

It hangs some distance to my right before disappearing around the corner. It's too small to be a Pearl. More like the blinker on a com-pad.

I turn back to Avery, whispering, “Did you see that?”

She shakes her head.

On instinct alone, I pull myself from the ground and ball my fists.

“Whoa.” Avery stands. “Calm down. What did you see?”

I stare into the darkness. “You know of anything down here that would make a red light? Communicators? Weapons?”

“It's late,” she says. “I wouldn't trust my own eyes. Maybe yo
u should—”

“Do you still have that flashlight?” I hold out a hand.

She hesitates before reaching into her pocket and plac
ing a palm-sized light in my hand.

I flip it on. Full power, by mistake. It casts the hallway in a glaring blanket of white light. I dial it down before stepping forward. “Just give me a second. It's probably nothing.”

Avery glances behind her. “I used to be the one getting
you
in trouble.”

We tiptoe all the way to the corner. I freeze. Avery bumps into me, then grabs my shoulder to steady herself.

“Footsteps,” she whispers. We both hear them. Light, but not far away. “I guess we're not the only insomniacs around here.
”

I block the flashlight's beam before shutting it off. Taking a deep breath, I peer around the corner.

I see it immediately.

One red light bobs ever so slightly several yards away. Try as I might, I can't make out any other details. The footsteps have disappeared. The red doesn't seem to reflect on any of the walls. It's not strong enough.

“Skandar?” I keep my voice at a whisper. “Eva?”

The tiny light freezes before shifting to the right. I watch as a second light parts from the first, moving slowly apart. I step back in horror as I realize that what I'm looking at is looking back at me as well.

These aren't lights at all. They're a pair of eyes.

Before I can do anything, the creature floats off the ground and careens toward me. The flashlight hits the ground as a cold hand slams against my throat, knocking me off my feet
and pushing me back through the air.

“Jesse!” Avery's voice fades as I'm propelled farther down the hallway.

Fighting for breath, I reach up to my throat and pry at the fingers, not daring to look up at the red pupils that blaze mere feet from my face.

I break the creature's grip and fall to the ground. The back of my head thuds on the floor, sending a dizzying shockwave through my body. I try to ignore it, fighting through the pain as I climb to my feet.

I take a shaky step forward as the creature lands behind me and spins around. Avery's flashlight clicks on again in front of us, forcing my eyes shut. I hear a gasp, but can't tell if it's from the creature or her.

I lift my hand to shield my eyes and feel the creature's fingers tighten around the back of my skull. I cry out. The thing doesn't care. It shoves me forward, too fast and forceful for me to react. I can't catch myself. My face plants hard into the ground.

The corridor spins. Avery's voice pops in and out of my consciousness.

“Stop!” she yells. The beam flickers off, then on again.

Something grabs my ankle and yanks upward. My left leg twists unnaturally, like it's about to be pulled from my body. I grit my teeth and claw at the ground. Blood starts to pool under my face.

Avery screams. “Put him down!”

I hear footsteps. My body inches across the floor.

“He's killing him!”

A second voice joins the fray, but everything's spinning and throbbing and blacking out. I can barely focus.

An incredible heat streams over my head, like someone's just brought the full brunt of the Fringes inside the bunker. The corridor lights up. I feel my leg drop to the ground. Something shrieks behind me, otherworldly. Inhuman.

Before I can react, hands reach around my wrists and pull me forward. I flip onto my back to see Cassius and Avery looking do
wn at me.

“Are you alright?” Cassius meets my eyes.

I nod, then glance over at his fist. It's still sparking.

Fire eats away at the corridor. Soon, the crackle of the flames overtakes the screaming. The bunker falls silent. The creature is dea
d. If not for Cassius, I would have been, too.