Balance (The Neumarian Chronicles) (8 page)

The bomber moved behind a medical cabinet until only his hand was visible, his thumb moving over the trigger teasingly.

I shot a
narrow beam at his hand, but missed as he jerked away, my gift melting a steel tray to goo.

With him no longer in my line of sight, I tried to sense wires, anything metal in the device, but couldn’t. I glanced at Briggs. When she nodded ever-so-slightly, I knew what she wanted me to do and my heart ached.

“In honor of the queen, I martyr myself for a pure society, free of parasites!”

“Now!” Briggs shouted, her eyes filled with determination.

I shot a contained blast into the door’s control panel and it began to slide shut. Ryder threw himself over Laos. I dropped to the floor and covered my head.

A thunderous boom, followed by shrieks of panic and pain, filtered through the thick blast door into the corridor.

What happened
?

The ringing in my ears made it tough to think.
Bomb, infirmary, casualties.

You hurt
?

My head pounded with pressure
as I rolled on my side.

Are you hurt
? My father yelled in my head, only making the pounding worse.

Don’t think so
. I pushed myself up to my knees. “Ryder? Laos? You okay?”

“Yes
.”

At Ryder’s hiss, I looked behind me. He sat, listing to one side, his hand holding his ribcage. “Were you re-injured? He nodded then winced and, pulling
Laos onto his lap, leaned back against the wall.

G
uards raced passed and began prying open the heavy door. Dust and debris poured into the corridor as gasps of horror filled the air. The bodies of countless doctors, nurses, and patients littered the wreckage inside the infirmary. Dead. Everyone was dead. They’d never had a chance.

Briggs? I searched, but couldn’t find her.

Acid crawled up my throat. With mounting horror, I checked on Ryder and Laos and struggled to stifle my sob as the little boy curled in on himself. He cradled against Ryder, his tiny face buried in Ryder’s shirt as my love murmured, “Don’t look. Don’t look.”

“
I want my mamma,” he whimpered.

“
I know, little man. But she’s gone.” Ryder closed his eyes and took a long breath. “She’s gone.”

Laos fought to
break free of Ryder’s embrace. “It’s your fault! I could’ve saved my mamma,” he screamed as his small fists beat against his chest with each word.

My
lungs burned with sorrow. Looking back down the corridor, my gaze lingered on the bodies being pulled from the infirmary as guards worked desperately in a futile search for survivors.

Then m
y eyes locked on a stuffed animal, still clutched in the hand of a lifeless child.

With a shudder, I curled into a fetal position and let the tears flow.

Chapter Eleven

Ryder clasped Laos to his chest as he slowly climbed to his feet. The child’s raging had quieted. He looked almost limp and I wondered if he’d passed out from emotional exhaustion. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. It was a miracle any of us were still up and moving.

Two blasts shattered the stunned silence, followed by the floor buckling beneath us. Those standing in the middle of the corridor crumpled to their knees.

Ryder, still using the wall for support, remained upright.

“We’re under attack. Get to your battle stations,” I ordered.

Ryder hunched over Laos, protecting him from falling debris.
“You have to get Laos to the orphanage. That’s the safest place.”

Father’s mind nudged mine and I felt his relief that I was still with him.
How are you?

Alive.
I breathed.
Do you have a number on how many are involved yet?

We aren’t
under attack. It was one person. I’ve received reports from several areas. In addition to the bombs set to detonate simultaneously with his vest, he set another three for ten minutes after the fact. He’d planned to take out the rescuers along with anyone else left alive.

How many were lost?

I don’t have a count yet
, my father said.
It could’ve been worse. The bomb disposal teams disarmed the remaining bombs, including the one set to blow in the orphanage.

How did you know?

The first clue was his screaming that all the children of parasites must die
.

Ryder lowered his head and
pressed his lips next to my ear. “If you hadn’t closed those blast doors—” He closed his eyes and inhaled. “You saved us.”

N
o matter how he spun it. I’d shut those doors, any loss was on me, but for now, the last thing I could afford was an emotional meltdown. Helping with rescue efforts had to be my sole focus.

Father nudged me again.

Where do you need help the most?
I asked.

The landing bay and weaponry. A bomb in fuel storage exploded
. They’re battling an out-of-control blaze. If it isn’t stopped, we’ll lose every ship that’s docked. If it spreads to the weaponry, it’ll heat the volatile chemicals and we may lose the Arc.

Got it
. I’m on my way
.

Ryder touched my shoulder. “What’s going on?”

I swiveled to him. “I’m heading down to assist. There’s an out-of-control fire threatening the Arc.”

He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ticked.
“Be careful. I’ll join you as soon as Laos is settled.”

I brushed his cheek with the back of my fingers. “Be safe. See you soon.” Pivoting
, I headed for the stairs. Over the past months, I’d learned to deal with the things that happened in war, horrible things that we regretted or questioned. But until the job was finished, you had to shove it into that corner of your mind where you put nightmares and continue forward. I’d gotten good at it, too. Until the quiet dark of night. It was then, as I lay in bed, that the terror and death haunted me.

Are
Raeth and Penton okay
? I asked my father.

Yes, but not for long
. Unless weaponry is moved a safe distance from the fire, we’ll lose them and everyone else. With the fuel depot fully engulfed, the entire Arc structure and everyone in it is at risk.

Understood
. If we lost the Arc, the rebellion ceased. The traitor’s placement of his explosives was brilliant.

Fifteen minutes later, I backtracked, trying another path. Access
into the underground area that housed weaponry was blocked. Not surprising, it’d received the worst damage. I reassured myself that at least the com system still operated, so I’d be able to contact Penton and Raeth.

As I moved through another corridor crowded with rescuers and the injured, an old lady on a stretcher cried,
“The queen’s killing us all.”

She was right. Not that I’d admit it aloud. Instead, I knelt beside her and clasped her hand in mine. “No. Our home isn’t destroyed, only damaged. She won’t stop us. We’ll rebuild as we always have.”

She drew my hand to her mouth and kissed it. “Bless you, child.”

With a reassuring nod,
I stood and moved further into the devastated underground. Stumbling over rubble, I managed to find the stairwell. For two floors, I crawled over wreckage until I reached an opening where the door to the maintenance bay should be. I crept closer. The hole in the wall opened to an abyss. The floor, the entire section didn’t exist, and below it roared an inferno.

From the corner of my eye, I caught a beam of light a few steps below me.
“This level’s compromised. No one’s allowed down here. Report top side,” the guard said in a gruff voice. As I faced him, his light blinded me momentarily. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was you, Corporal Bellator. Here’s your torch. Be careful, one wrong step and—”

“Understood.”

It wasn’t hearing my rank that unsettled me. After all, as the Triune, all three of us carried the same status, as did Penton, the rebellion’s Weapons Master. No, it was hearing my father’s last name attached to me. Before escaping Mandesa, I’d always been referred to as Princess Semara or by Mandesa’s family name, Valderak, which was also my mother’s maiden name. Silly really to be bothered by my last name, but it was one more change in a long line to get used to.

I struggled down another
flight, shimming along the wall to avoid exposed wires. Metal, chemicals, and ozone saturated the air. As I neared the weaponry level, I saw numerous broken bodies. They reminded me of dolls, their limbs missing, and… I recognized so many of them. They’d become friends, family. I’d seen them every day as they walked through the halls or stopped by to talk with Ryder as he’d recovered.

I scrubbed my face of all evidence of tears, while wishing I could erase the nightmare sight from
my mind, and stepped out onto the weaponry level. As I moved into the passageway, I gasped, feeling as if I’d entered a blast furnace.

“
Raeth, get out of here, now. You can’t stay,” Penton yelled from somewhere toward the back.

I
continued forward. The stink of desperation overpowered the smoky odor of burning plastic and metal. Flames licked up the walls, ignoring the fire-retardant foam and water cannons four soldiers were using in a vain attempt to keep the fire at bay. Others raced toward me, carrying equipment and Penton’s inventions from weaponry.

“You have to go
, Raeth, now,” Penton urged. “I’ll make it. I promise.”

“No. We
’ll make it together. Stop arguing and start working.”

I halted
in the doorway. Instantly, my hereditary Neumarian soldier merged with the emotionless Kantian influence of my youth. No arguing, just give orders and make things happen. “Raeth, Penton’s right. Your leg will melt, making you a deadly hindrance. Get going.” Turning, I faced Penton. “What can’t be replaced?”

Penton pointed to shelves on the far wall. “T
hose canisters.”

I snagged as many as I could carry and hotfooted it to the storage bay.

Raeth, her back also loaded with canisters, passed me, running, actually running on her new leg. At the sight, an unexpected smile broke free.

“We’re out
,” I called. “Evacuate. Fire’ll reach the solvent in five. Seal off the corridor.”

Raeth
paused by the men at the door, set her containers at her feet, and stretched her arms out, her palms facing the fire. The flames dulled slightly, held then flared.

“You can’t alter it
. You’ve tried. It’s a chemically-fed fire, not a burning bush.” Penton tugged her further back from the threatening flames.

I kicked Raeth’s canisters
into the hall and charged after them, just ahead of the fiery hell racing to envelope us from behind.

Penton
raked his fingers through his hair as the seemingly intelligent flames advanced upon his lab. “We’ll lose all my research.”

Raeth glared at him.
“Better than your life.”

“You don’t understand. Th
e research will save the Triune. It’s what I was meant to do. I won’t fail.”

Memory
of what Fallon had told me crept in. Was he really going to sacrifice himself? A friend dying for us? No. I wouldn’t let that happen, and neither would Raeth, evident by her arms around his waist, shoving him backward toward the stairwell.

“Penton
, you’re not just a weapons genius, but one with chemicals as well. So, fix this,” I urged. “Make something that will suffocate the fire.”

Penton
’s palm smacked his forehead, his aggressive, non-communicative stare morphing into action. He fumbled with the canisters in his lab and mixed several ingredients together. “I can’t put out the fire, but perhaps I can have it implode on itself. Sort of burn out instantly.”

“Won’t that blow the lab?”
I asked.

“No
. If I do it right, the effects will only be felt a few meters past the fire, and if we close the doors, it should save the weaponry.

“How are you going to spread it and close the doors at the same time?”
Eyes narrowed, I met his gaze. I needed to see his eyes to ensure he told the truth. “You’re not dying on my watch. Raeth’ll never forgive me.”

“
S-Semara’s right. I w-won’t.” Erect, Raeth stood tall and proud. She no longer hid her strength behind hunched shoulders and a downcast face. Nope, this girl was a force to be reckoned with.

I bit back a smirk.
Penton had no idea the power he’d unleashed upon the world when he’d given her that leg.

“Perhaps I can use one of the mist bombs, but you’ll both have to leave. I’ll have to open the canister
. It’s proved to be non-lethal to humans, but not Neumarians. In its concentrated form, it’ll destroy your gifts for good.” Penton opened a container full of grenade-looking canisters then glanced back at us. “The longer you stay here the less chance I’ll have of making it out of here alive.” Penton set his jaw in a way that reminded me of Ryder. Were all men born with that distinctive hardheaded stare?

“Raeth, he’ll make it. Penton always does. That’s his gift.”

“Trust me.” His words cut through Raeth and her crossed arms fell to her sides.

“I do.”
With grace, she turned toward the hall, her movements graceful like a dancer, and raced for the doorway. At the threshold, she glanced back. “Don’t you dare die on me when I can finally keep up with you, Penton.”

My gaze scanned the three men with us.
“You two,” I said, pointing, “with us. Sergeant, you’re human. Stay and help Penton.”

With the hellhole at our backs, the two men and I bolted for the hall and safety, such as it was, I thought as s
weat-saturated clothing weighed me down. Forget the mist grenades, I had seconds to make it to cover before I was well done.

As we joined Raeth, I saw her flinch at the sound of the door to weaponry
clank shut, sealing Penton and the sergeant in.

“I
-I love him. More th-than anything. He’s m-my savior. My heart. I c-can’t lose him.”