The Tower (44 page)

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Authors: Adrian Howell

BOOK: The Tower
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“You take the flashlight,” I whispered to Alia, holding it out to her.

“I don’t want to hold that,”
said Alia, eyeing the metal casing.

“Fine,” I replied. “I’ll hold the flashlight and you shoot the gun.”

Alia took the flashlight.

“You lead,” I said, gesturing toward the descending stairs.

My sister took a deep breath, shined the flashlight down the stairs, and started walking.

This staircase was longer than the first. As I followed Alia off the final step, I felt certain that we were at the bottom of the hull. There was a lot of condensation on the rusty, creaking walls. The air was musty and stale. I could hear a low mechanical thumping noise off in the distance. I wondered if it was an engine, or perhaps a generator.

We were in another very narrow corridor. Alia shined the flashlight down both directions. About fifteen yards toward the rear of the towboat, the corridor turned left.

“Help!” echoed Cindy’s voice. It was coming from around the corner. I wondered if Terry was okay.

Alia led with the flashlight. I followed half a step behind her with my pistol held in both hands, my arms extended over Alia’s head. I didn’t like the idea of using my little sister as a human shield, but as long as she had the light, there was no other way to do this. My power balance nowhere near perfect, the pistol in my hands was weakening me so much that I was sorely tempted to throw it away and rely solely on my telekinesis. However, I had learned long ago that bullets were far more effective than my telekinetic blasts. I kept a firm grip on the light-foot’s pistol.

My clothes were still soaked through, clinging uncomfortably to my body. One slow step at a time, we approached the corner. There was a closed door on our left but I didn’t bother opening it.

We turned the corner, and Alia switched off her flashlight. Light was streaming out into the corridor from an open door several yards down. Cindy called out again, and I knew her voice was coming from that room.

I sensed Alia about to break into a run, so I grabbed her by the shoulder and stepped around her, taking the lead.

We cautiously made our way to the door, and I peered in, my eyes stinging from the brightness.

The towboat’s giant engine room was well lit by hanging lights, their cables running down to a portable generator. The Angels had converted the engine room into a makeshift living, dining and meeting room. There were folding tables and chairs, hammocks and sleeping bags. There was even a microwave oven on one table and a small refrigerator standing against one of the two massive turbine engines. Cindy was sitting at the largest table, and she quickly stood up when we entered the room. There was no one else with her. I lowered my pistol, clicking the safety on.

“Adrian! Alia!” cried Cindy. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

Alia dropped the flashlight, rushed forwards and jumped into Cindy’s open arms. Cindy hugged her tightly.

“You’re not tied down,” I said, surprised.

“They told me they’d kill me if I left this room,” said Cindy, still holding Alia in her arms. I noticed that Cindy wasn’t wearing her nightclothes, but a set of ill-fitting garments that looked oddly familiar.

“We already got most of them,” I said loudly enough to cover the sound of me flipping my pistol’s safety back off. “We need to get you out of here, Ms. Gifford. Come on, Alia.”

“Where’s Terry?” asked Cindy.

I raised my pistol and leveled it on her head as I said, “Strike three, shape-shifter. Cindy would never be glad that we were here. I don’t call her Ms. Gifford, and she doesn’t know that Terry is here. You’re such a bad actor, Riles. You didn’t even comment on my missing ear.”

Cindy’s hair was quickly becoming shorter, changing color from silver to dark gray. Her skin was getting a touch darker too. I blinked twice, and Cindy was gone.

“I hope you don’t accidentally hit the little one,” said Riles, holding Alia firmly in front of him.

I fired a round over his head, and Riles flinched. Alia instantly broke free of his grasp. Riles tried to grab her again, but my sister hadn’t spent months in the dojo with Terry and me for nothing. Nimbly jumping backwards, Alia turned and sprinted behind me.

“Whoops,” I said evenly, pointing my gun at Riles’s chest.

“I probably shouldn’t have told you that I was a shape-shifter,” Riles said mildly. “I was hoping to relieve you of your weapon and take you with me.”

“Too bad,” I replied. “Now, where’s Cindy?”

Riles smiled. “Long gone, I’m afraid.”

“If she’s gone, what are you guys still doing here?”

“Preparing to scuttle the boat,” answered Riles. “Our mission is complete. We want to leave as little evidence as possible here.”

“Where are they taking her?”

“If you wish to see Cynthia Gifford, you are still welcome to join us. A brave boy like you would be most welcome in the Angels. A healer doubly so.”

“I’m going to count to three,” I said, pulling the hammer back. “Where is Cindy?”

Riles only smirked. “You’re not going to shoot me.”

“One,” I counted, but I couldn’t keep my voice from quivering as I wondered if perhaps Riles was right.

“You don’t have it in you, Adrian,” said Riles, taking a step closer. “Now hand me the pistol, and I promise you’ll get out of this alive.”

“Two,” I said, my hands trembling.

Riles lunged at me.

When I saw the first dark spot appear on his shirt, I fired again, and again. Riles was knocked backwards. I tried to fire a fourth round, but nothing happened. My gun was either empty or jammed again. Riles fell onto his back, and blood seeped out from under him. I stepped forward, throwing down the pistol and pointing my right index finger at his head.

As I stood over him, Riles looked up at me, his eyes wide with pain and fear. He opened his mouth, but only a gurgling sound came out, and he coughed up blood. He was clearly beyond Alia’s help. Looking deep into his eyes, I released a focused blast through my finger, putting a hole in his forehead.

“Three,” I whispered, still looking down at Riles’s motionless form.

Alia said something into my head, but I wasn’t listening. I stared, transfixed, at the dead Angel. The unarmed man that I had just killed.

I had just killed somebody.

Terry had spent her whole life training to be a soldier. When the battle on the towboat’s main deck started, she really had been ready to kill. Her years of training made her motions automatic. Without hesitation, she had killed the telekinetic and his partner, and then came out and killed the light-foot who had been strangling me. When the pyroid attacked us inside the boat, she thought nothing of chasing him down.

For my part, I was no stranger to death either. I had watched my psionically controlled father kill my mother. I had seen my father dead at the hands of the berserker, who in turn was killed by Ralph. I had watched Ralph kill the insane pyroid in the research center, and I watched Dr. Kellogg bleed to death under a mountain of broken rock. I had seen dead bodies, mangled and burned. I was no stranger to death. But this was different.
I had just killed someone.
For the first time in my life, I had directly taken someone else’s. I had pulled the trigger, and a person who had been alive was now dead. I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt, but it wasn’t remorse. It wasn’t anger or excitement or satisfaction or relief. If anything, it was more like... emptiness.

“Hansel? Hansel! Adrian!” I heard Terry shout from behind me. “Wake up!”

I turned around. Terry was holding Alia’s hand and looking at me. The right sleeve of Terry’s shirt was slightly scorched, but otherwise she looked okay.

“Did you?” asked Terry, looking down at Riles’s corpse.

“Yeah,” I answered quietly.

“Good job, Hansel,” she said. “Listen, I’m sorry. I lost the pyroid. I don’t think there’s anyone else left though. I’ve been looking all over for you. Do you have any idea how many explosives are wired around the hull? I can’t be sure, but I think they’re on some kind of remote.”

Explosives? And Terry lost the pyroid. Where was the pyroid? I couldn’t sense him anywhere. He was no longer on the towboat.

“Riles!” I shouted. “He said they were going to scuttle the boat!”

“We have to find Silver!” said Terry.

“She’s not here,” I replied. “We have to get out of here! Now!”

But now was already too late.

The first explosion rocked the towboat so severely that we were all thrown off our feet. Another giant boom, much closer this time, resonated through the metal walls, causing my ears to ring. The floor was shaking so badly I couldn’t see straight. I heard a metallic crashing noise nearby, and suddenly Terry was screaming at the top of her lungs. Another giant blast, and another. I put my hands over my ears. The hull shook violently with each explosion, and even with my ears covered, the sound was deafening. It was like standing inside a massive bell.

Finally, the explosions stopped. The towboat was listing slightly as it began to sink. My ears were still ringing, but I could hear Terry wildly shouting curses that echoed around the room.

I stood up and saw what had happened to her.

Terry was lying on her back, and there was a giant steel beam next to her. It had broken apart and fallen from the ceiling, and Terry’s left arm was pinned under it. The edge of the beam had cut deep into Terry’s forearm near her wrist, stopping at the bone. Blood was seeping out of the gash. I ran to the beam and tried to lift it up. Alia helped too, but it was no use. Even if the metal didn’t drain my strength, it would have made no difference. It would take several strong men to lift this.

Terry had stropped cursing, and she was looking up at us with wide, frightened eyes. I heard the sound of rushing water and, looking around, discovered that the deeper side of the engine room was already underwater. It would be only a matter of minutes, if not less, before the room was completely flooded.

“Pick up the flashlight, Adrian,” gasped Terry. “The generator is going to go any minute.”

Alia picked it up for me. I looked around the room again. There had to be something I could use to move the beam.

The shaking from the explosions had upset several boxes, and there were a variety of tools scattered around the room: hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches. I picked up a crowbar and tried to wedge it under the beam.

“Won’t work, Adrian,” panted Terry. “You’d better get out.”

“No, Terry,” I said. “I’m not leaving you here.”

“It’s okay,” said Terry, her voice strangely calm. “The Angels will kill my brother. The Guardians will probably kill me. I’ve nothing left, anyway.”

“You’re not going to die here, Terry!” I said furiously. “Not like this!”

The water finally reached the portable generator. The lights flickered twice, and the room was plunged into darkness.

Alia turned on her flashlight.

“Forget it,” said Terry, shaking her head. “Get Alia out. Please. Before it’s too late.”

By now, the boat was listing to the point where it was hard to remain standing. I could hear some of the smaller tools and miscellaneous items rattling as they slid across the floor. The beam on Terry’s arm, however, didn’t budge.

“No!” I shouted, snatching the flashlight from Alia and shining it around the room. There had to be something I could use. My light danced across all the junk scattered across the floor. There just had to be something!

There was.

I stepped over Terry and dashed across the room, grabbing a rusty red fireman’s ax. I couldn’t imagine what it was doing on the towboat, but I didn’t care. Returning with it, I tossed the flashlight back to Alia.

“You can’t cut the beam with that,” said Terry, seeing me standing over her with the ax.

“It’s not the beam I’m going to cut,” I answered.

Terry stared up at me, her eyes even wider than before, and suddenly I wasn’t at all sure I could do this. I took an involuntary step back.

“Adrian!” shouted Terry. “If you’re going to do it, do it quickly, before I lose my nerve.”

I looked at Alia, whose eyes were fixed on my ax. “Ali, can you re-grow limbs?” I asked.

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