Break The Ice (27 page)

“This way,” she yells, wiping her hands off on the wall and leaving a smear of red.

I keep five paces behind Ti until she stops unexpectedly at a random door. I’m going so fast that I almost run into her before skidding to a stop. “What are you doing?”

She doesn’t need to say a word. Not ten feet in front of her, a burning beam blocks the hall.

“We have to put it out,” Ti says. “It’ll reach the cafeteria before long. Then it won’t be Tinjo who kills all those people.”

I have a hard time getting the words to come out. Ti is right, but I look at her and say, “There’s no time. We need to keep going.”

“No,” she says. “You need to. I’ll control this.”

“We should stick together,” Silo says. “Pairs fight better than individuals.”

“Okay, fine,” Ti says. “Sam, go on ahead, leave us here. You’re stronger than any Dinmani I’ve ever read about. You’re better off alone than with us slowing you down. We’ll keep your friends safe.”

“What about your shot at Tinjo?” I say.

Ti shrugs. “Give him hell for the both of us.”

I want to thank Ti. Not for the encouragement or the ego boost but for constantly putting everyone else’s lives before hers. I’m running out of time. I give a quick nod and slip past her through the open door leading into a staircase.

Up or down. No time to think. I grab the railing and pull myself up the stairs, two at a time. On the third floor, I jerk open the door and listen. Nothing. No screams, no explosions, nothing but the sirens. I’m not sure how large the hospital is, but this fight won’t be quiet. Back to the stairs, I race up them until I get to a door that has no number on it, only the word
Roof
.

It takes an unusual amount of effort to push the door open. I slam my shoulder into it four times before something snaps on the other side. Another hit and it opens. I stand there for a few seconds to take in the scene unfolding across the rooftop.

Dan and Tinjen stand twenty feet away from me, back to back, surrounded by two dozen Dinmani. Tinjo is in the middle of the crowd. He stands a little farther back letting two others guard him. Three Dinmani strike at once, and Tinjen knocks them all away with one blow.

“Did you see that?” Tinjo says. “That is my son. The greatest warrior his age. You will need to try harder to get to him.”

In an effort to prove they’re worthy, five Dinmani charge Tinjen at once. He sweeps his leg, knocking over two at once. The others jump, dodging the attack and lining up their own. Before Tinjen stands, he builds up a charge in his hands and lets the pulse go straight into the stomach of the nearest Dinmani, sending him colliding into another.

He must think he took out all five because he doesn’t recover from his second move quick enough. While he lingers, the last Dinmani slides a small knife out from under his sleeve. He brings it above his head to strike when Dan steps in, fire in his hand and a burning in his eyes. Much like Tinjen, he delivers the blast into the Dinmani’s stomach, but instead of sending him flying, Dan’s fire bursts through skin and bone and out the other side.

His victory doesn’t last long. Tinjo steps in himself and, letting a club form in his hands. He hits Dan with such force that the ice cracks in half and echoes across the rooftop.

I’ve managed to close the distance between us by half, but the sudden attack stops me in my tracks. I want to run over and help, but none of the Dinmani spotted me yet. I can’t risk giving up my surprise.

Dan lies on his stomach, eyes closed, unmoving, with Tinjo on one side and Tinjen on the other. They’re circling around him in small, careful steps. After two full rotations, Tinjo stops.

“Do I need to explain the situation, son?” he says.

Tinjen doesn’t say a word, only stares back.

“You begged me for years to let you join my ranks, and what is it that I always told you? You will fight beside me the day you prove yourself.” He removes a metal blade from an inside pocket. “Today is the day you make your mark in history. Kill the last remaining link between this planet and the Sunjin, and rule it by my side.”

“You once told me that a boy makes one decision in life, and that decision turns him into a man,” Tinjen says, still not taking the knife from his father. “I have made many decisions, father. Ones that have made me unfavorable on Dintar, ones that make life on that planet nearly intolerable. Today, I make one decision that will turn me into the man I am meant to be.”

Tinjen picks the blade up, very carefully grabbing the handle. He lets it roll from palm to fingertip before rolling it back. “I choose integrity over power.” With speed so fast my eyes almost miss it, Tinjen darts forward and swings the blade.

As quick as he moves, Tinjo dodges the attack. He grabs Tinjen’s hand and pushes it upwards, thrusting the blade away from his chest. The tip nicks Tinjo’s side, but he shows no sign of pain.

Every remaining Dinmani closes in, turning the wide circle into a tight knot. Dan lies in the center, regaining consciousness as ten Dinmani almost trample him to death. I can’t tell where Tinjen disappeared in the crowd.

Charging straight into the center, I muster every ounce of energy I can hold at once into my palms and let it explode outwards. The attack tosses every Dinmani around me to the side and leaves me panting and pushing through a mound of unconscious bodies. Two more still attack Dan. I don’t need any Dinmow to get rid of them. I knock into them with my shoulder, pushing both backwards.

Dan climbs onto one knee before I grab his arm, yanking him to his feet. Sweat soaks his entire body. It mats his hair firmly to his forehead. With a shaking hand, he brushes it to the side. He rocks his neck to the left, then right, a loud pop sounding with each twist.

Before the two attackers can recover, he leans back on his heel and delivers a swift kick to the closest one’s chest, knocking them into each other. In the same fluid motion, he drives his elbow towards the ground. His blow lands behind the Dinmani’s ear, and neither of the attackers get up again.

He pivots to face me and wipes off his shirt. A small stream of blood runs down his nose, but he ignores it. The adrenaline drains from his eyes. He swallows hard. “Your mom?” he says.

A deep pain digs its way out from my chest. I squeeze my palms tight, enough that my nails break the skin. It’s enough to press the beast back down–for now. I shake my head.

“Back at Yellowstone, I told you I’d make sure to get revenge for what happened.”

“Yeah,” I say, barely choking the word out.

He shakes his head, wet hair repositioning back to his forehead. “In only a few days, we’ve been through too much together. Part of me is still mad as hell–but I can’t pretend you haven’t experienced the same loss as me. We both only owe one man for our pain, and–”

“I could use help.” It’s Tinjen, his voice muffled by the number of Dinmani surrounding him.

“Did you hear that?” Dan says, laughing to himself, his body language the complete opposite from what he was talking about seconds before. He approaches the crowd of Dinmani. “This guy asked us for help. The heat must be messing with his head.”

One by one, Dan and I peel the men away and toss them aside. A blast of energy here, a frozen right hook to the jaw there. Together, we cut through the mass before they know what hit them. Two Dinmani remain, still focused on Tinjen and not us coming up behind them.

The instant they have him in a compromising position, they both strike. Tinjen rolls back, lunging forward as soon as his feet touch the rooftop. He catches them by the collar, one in each hand, and smashes them together. They collapse, one lying on top of the other.

I’m standing in the middle, out of breath and scanning the massive pile up of Dinmani scattered across the roof. I double check each face before I’m certain. “He’s not here.”

“He has to be,” Dan says. “We took out every single one.”

“This way,” Tinjen says before darting across the roof.

Dan chases after him without a word.

Before long, Tinjen’s plan becomes clear. His foot lands on the roof’s edge and, without a moment’s hesitation, he leaps into the air, soaring over top the street below. He disappears from my line of sight, and his body crashes down onto something hard.

Dan doesn’t miss a beat. He hits the same spot and hurdles the gap between buildings. His jump, a little sloppier than Tinjen’s, lands him a few inches from the edge.

“Poor form,” Tinjen shouts from the other side.

Five steps before I take my own dive, the building beneath me shakes. The tremor trips me up, and I stutter to a stop, inches from falling over.

“Why did you stop?” Tinjen says over the fifteen foot gap. “You need speed.”

Another violent trembling and the building creaks. It sways a little to the side.

Dan gets as close to the side as he can. “Get over here,” he says. “Now.”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. Kaitlyn, Mel, Ti, Silo. They’re all still inside. I turn, ready to run back. The building quivers once more. It’s going down, and I have to get off if I want to survive. I’m six steps from the jump. It’ll have to do. I put everything I have into the initial steps, my legs exploding forward. It’s not enough, I’m certain before I even get there, but I don’t have a second chance. I jump at half the speed of the others.

“Get ready,” Dan says, close enough to catch me if I can grab the ledge.

Time slows down for the few seconds that I’m airborne. I calculate my odds. They don’t look good. I’m falling faster than I expected and, before I even reach the other building, I’m ten feet below the roof.

Underneath me, the street grows closer. But a more imminent threat rushes at me. I’m going to crash into the fire escape first. The larger it gets, the closer I am to my embarrassing death. When I’m near enough to call it, Kaitlyn’s face emerges from the walls. Every detail etched in the brick and mortar not five feet in front of me.

I can’t give up. Not now. Not after everything.

A small portal opens up, covering the dimples in her cheeks and I slide through shoulders first. I land on the rooftop in a tight roll. My knees skid across the rooftop, slowing me down before I crash into Dan and Tinjen’s backs as they stare over the side.

“Smart,” Tinjen says without facing me. “I thought you would let yourself die instead of using your brain.”

Dan spins around. A crease digs into his forehead, a mixture of shock and awe. And then, in a flash, his face hardens. He doesn’t need to say a word.

I know what I have to do.

I unlock my knees and let my body fall. Keeping one leg tense, I push off with my hands and pivot my foot, swinging the other out. The sweep happens effortlessly, but I don’t make contact.

Tinjo predicted the attack, and he jumps back, dodging my foot by centimeters. He plants his feet and wipes his hands off like nothing happened. A smirk plays across his face. He wants to give one of his speeches, but I’m not going to let him.

Even though it won’t do anything to him, I create a long shaft of ice and snap it in half against my knee. With two smaller clubs, I spring at Tinjo, catching him off guard for once. I land one shot across his hip and jab the second into his chest. He leans in, and I take advantage. Tossing one of my weapons behind me, I slide the other behind Tinjo’s neck, pulling down towards my knee.

Inches from his nose breaking, Tinjo places both hands against my knee and pushes it back down. He reacted faster than I expected and, because of it, I lose the upper hand. Slipping out from under my grapple, he throws a blast of energy at me and sends me spiraling into the air.

I land on my side, a safe distance from falling off the roof. Dan and Tinjen haven’t moved yet. The city stretches out behind them in the distance. The hospital should tower over them, but it’s missing. Destroyed, and all the people in it.

While I lie still, defeated in spirit more than body, Tinjen leaps over me.

“Son–”

“No more words,” Tinjen says, cutting him off.

Silence follows for the count of three seconds until an explosion pushes me away, rolling me closer to Dan. He kneels down and grabs me, helping me back to my feet. Now I can see over the edge, and the rubble beneath it.

“What should we do?” Dan says.

I tear my eyes away from the hospital’s remains and watch the fight. Father and son, ducking and striking so fluidly that the whole thing looks choreographed. Every time one of them lands a strike, an eruption of power shakes the building. If they keep it up, this building will crumble like the last.

“Anything,” I say.

Dan raises both hands, palms up, and creates two small balls of fire. He lets them grow until they’re the size of baseballs before he winds up and hurls them at Tinjo. Without even acknowledging that Dan had moved, Tinjo dodges a swing from Tinjen and Dan’s fire at the same time.

“Let me try,” I say. “Hold it steady.” Concentrating on hitting the fire and not breaking Dan’s wrist, I rub my hands together and give myself some room. With a short running start, I cup my hands together and blast the fire. It rockets forward at a blinding speed.

In two blinks, Tinjo breaks free of his son’s hand, kicks him back five feet, and raises a single hand to meet my attack. His glowing fingers freeze the fire. “You need better training,” he says. “You are all too slow. Too weak. Too–”

Tinjen, ignoring any recovery he might need from his last hit, snuck around the periphery. Before any of us notice his plan, he has his shirt off and wraps it around Tinjo’s arm. Grabbing the second arm, he pulls the sleeve tight to finish the knot. Before Tinjo has a chance to pull back, Tinjen freezes it in place.

“Quick,” Tinjen says.

Dan and I don’t waste any time. We spring over to Tinjo in a heartbeat. Three on one and Tinjo can’t use his hands, rendering his Dinmow useless. Powerless. Each one of us has waited too long for this.

“Who gets the first shot?” Dan says, smiling wide. He taps his finger against his leg, each time singing a small part of the jeans. Before anyone can answer, he presses his hand flat against Tinjo’s chest. Smoke spreads out from underneath like an iron left on his shirt.

Tinjo cries out, unable to keep his silent demeanor. Dan removes his hand and reveals the hand print burned out of Tinjo’s shirt. His skin looks darker blue than usual with the burn welting already. Tinjo breathes through the pain, short and quick bursts.

“Torture me all you would like,” he says after a sharp inhale. “That will not bring back your father.”

Tinjen tightens his grip and forces a yelp from Tinjo. “You have no business speaking of fathers,” he says.

Dan slams his hand onto a second spot under Tinjo’s ribcage and laughs as the Dinmani screams out. “You should try this. It’s oddly satisfying.”

“Enough.” A new voice booms out from the sky above us. Two dark gray clouds clash, swirling together. “You are finished here.” This time it comes from behind Tinjen.

My eyes come down from the sky and meet Striker’s cold, distant stare.

“What do you want?” Dan says. “You told us to come back once we killed him. We’re almost there, relax.”

“You will not kill him,” Striker says.

“What?” I say.

“That is insane,” Tinjen says.

“You do not speak to me that way,” Striker says.

I take a step forward. “No, but I will. This maniac killed my mom. He’s the reason Dan’s dad died. He took something from all of us. He deserves to die.”

“Or worse,” Dan says.

Striker opens up a bag slung over his shoulder. He removes a black chain with shackles on both ends. “I intend to give him much worse,” he says. “He will be exiled on Dintar, thrown into the labyrinths beneath the city and forced to live out his life among the people he put there. I do not expect it to be a very long sentence.”

“How do we know there won’t be another attack here? He had others following him,” I say.

“His second in command attempted to overthrow my city,” Striker says.

“Tinwel?” I say.

Striker nods. “He forced my hands. I personally saw to his execution. No others are capable of any destruction on your planet.” He breaks the rope from Tinjo’s wrists and slaps the shackles in its place. “Go down and retrieve the other two Dinmani.” Striker stares at Tinjen. “You, come with me.”

Tinjen looks from me to Dan. He says nothing, but with a curt nod, he turns away. Two steps behind Striker and Tinjo, he follows them through a portal and off of Earth.

“Wait a second,” I say. “The other two?”

I don’t give Dan a chance to talk. I snap my fingers and shove him through. Stepping onto the street below, staring at the mountain of debris that should be a hospital, I spot a group of people. Thirty, maybe forty. Some sit in wheelchairs, others on stretchers. One hospital bed.

And there, off to the side, one person standing alone, staring at her hands. Not just her hands. Her phone. I reach into my pocket and grab mine. The screen is cracked in half, a dozen splinters spreading out from the center, but it still works. A small, red battery blinks in the top corner.
2%
.

Me:
What a day.

I wait for her response. Five, four, three, two…one…

Her head snaps up, and she spins around, looking at every face around her. She completes two full circles before stopping, facing me. The phone slips out from her fingers, and she runs forward.

She’s only a hundred feet away, but I have no intention of waiting. I throw open a portal and two steps later, she crashes into my chest. She doesn’t say a word about it, only wraps her arms around me.

I want nothing more than to close my eyes and stand here forever. For a few seconds, I pay no attention to the hole in my chest from mom’s absence, or the cuts and bruises that cover most of my body. All I need at that moment is warmth and happiness, and I can’t help myself when I say, “Daisies.”

Kaitlyn lifts her head from my chest and looks at me funny.

“Your perfume,” I say. “It smells like daisies.”