Delete: Volume 3 (Shifter Series) (4 page)

“Is Abbott here?” I said, a sudden hot anger rushing through me.

There was a ripple of uncertainty in the group behind me, and I noticed a few of the intelligence officers tore themselves away from the screens to look my way.

“Abbott?” Cain said, his mismatched eyes tightening.

I knew I’d slipped up and considered Shifting to undo having asked the question. But I needed to know. I nodded.

“Abbott died in the attack on Old Street,” Cain said. “I would have thought you would have remembered that, Tyler. Being as it was you who dragged his body out of the rubble.”

So, Abbot was dead. And with him, I assumed, his attempt to restart the Ganymede programme. I was glad he was dead. Glad in a way that scared me a little.

I tried to think of something to say to cover my mistake, some excuse I could make that would stop everyone staring at me. But I had nothing.

Zac came to my rescue. “Commandant Tyler is going through a bit of an adjustment after yesterday.”

Cain’s face softened. “Unsurprising, really. I hear it was a big Shift.”

“Sixteen on the Lawrence scale, sir,” Cooper said.

Cain raised a ragged eyebrow. “I didn’t know the scale went up that high. Well, you’ll find your feet soon enough, Tyler.” He slapped my shoulder with his massive hand.

“Of course,” I said, coughing to hide my embarrassment.

Find Aubrey, I said to myself. Find Aubrey and you can work a way out of here. Till then, I needed to play along. I turned back to the table. “What do we do?”

“We wait,” Cain said. “We’ve got someone on the inside, and once we have their report, we’ll be able to see what we’re up against. Then we go in hard.” He dragged a large black circle to cover all the red squares on the screen. “In the meantime,” Cain said, “I suggest you go get yourself cleaned up. You look like shit. And can someone get the Commandant an S3 uniform? I know you’re attached to the old kit, Tyler, but ARES is over now. You’re in the army now, boy.”

I looked down at what I wore and noticed the splatter of blood over the white ARES badge on my chest. It wasn’t my blood.

“Do you know where I can find Au… ah, Captain Jones?”

“The new transfer? She’s out on a mission,” Cain said.

“Right. Can you get her to, um, report to me as soon as she returns?”

“Report to you, sure thing, Tyler,” Cain said with a sly smile. “Now get out of my sight.”

“I’ll drive you home, sir,” Zac said. He looked at me kindly and I realised, with a weird feeling of guilt and annoyance, that in this reality, he and I were friends.

“OK,” I said, uncomfortably aware of the curious looks I was getting from the people in the room. They were all expecting something of me. “As soon as you get the report back on the Red Hand, I want to know.” This seemed to work. They returned to whatever they had been doing, and Zac and I slipped away.

We walked back across the Hub and towards a set of silver doors. Behind the doors was a small metal room, which looked to be made of the same solid material. I followed Zac as he stepped inside and turned to face the way we’d come. The doors slid back into place, throwing us into near darkness. Before I could ask what was going on, the room jolted and I had the sense we were ascending. It was a lift. There were no counters ticking down floor numbers to let me know how far up we were going, but judging by the popping of my ears, it was a long way to the surface.

“Feels like Shifting, doesn’t it?” Zac said

The massive lift shuddered to a stop and the doors inched open again, revealing what looked like an aircraft hangar. I saw the Rhino in the far corner and next to it a row of sleek, black armoured cars and various other vehicles that looked decades ahead of anything I’d ever seen. All of them, including the Rhino, had a Union flag painted on them somewhere. Only now that I looked closer, I realised that instead of a red and white cross on a blue background, the flag was on a black background.

“Look at the state of her!” an angry voice carried across the room.

I looked to where the voice was coming from to see a man with a long, lanky ponytail slide out from underneath the Rhino. He stood up and I could see he wore a Led Zeppelin T-shirt underneath his black overalls and rubbed an oily rag in his hands.

“Carl?” I said, walking towards him.

It was my old head of IT. Only instead of computers, it seemed he was in charge of the machines here.

“You were supposed to bring her in for an overhaul a week ago,” Carl said.

“Don’t call it a her,” CP said. She was sitting on top of the tank’s tracks, swinging her legs back and forth. “It’s so creepy when you call it that. It’s a machine. Not a woman.”

Carl opened and closed his mouth, then decided against complaining. “Well, you’re lucky she… it didn’t sustain more damage the way you pounded it.”

“We were in a bit of a hurry. Isn’t that right, Com?” She smiled over at me, pulling off a swift salute: two fingers brushing against her temple.

Carl spun around and fumbled a salute, slapping himself in the face with his rag.

“How’s the leg?” CP said.

I looked down. “Still attached, thanks, Cleo,” I said, her name from this reality coming too easily. It was good to see her. Of all the people here, she seemed to be the only one who hadn’t changed. “And thanks. For getting me back to base before I bled out.”

“Not a bother,” she said, blushing under her fringe.

Seeing her blush reminded me of how she used to act around my other old classmate. “Is Jake around?” I asked, a longing to see his crooked smile and mess up his hair welling up in me. Even though Jake was five years younger than me, I still considered him as one of my best friends.

“Jake, sir?” CP said.

“Jake Bailey? About your age. Sandy hair. Dark eyes.”

She twisted her face to the side, thinking. “I remember a Jake from training, a year or so above me. But I haven’t seen him since he graduated. I think he failed his final tests, so he’ll be out on civvy street.”

“Oh, right.” So Jake wasn’t part of ARES – or S3, as we were now called. I guessed that that was a good thing.

“I can put a request out to find him, if you need,” she said, pulling out her tablet.

“No, that’s fine. Thank you.” As much as I was sad about not seeing him, I was glad to think he wasn’t caught up in this nightmare. I hoped that he and his sister Rosalie were far away from the capital.

Carl’s cough snapped me out of my thoughts about Jake. “It’s good to see you, too, Carl.”

“I, um, we’ve never met, sir.”

I was really going to have to keep my mouth shut. “No, of course. It’s only I’ve heard so much about you.”

Carl beamed. “Good to meet you too, sir. Did you get my report on the upgrade ideas I had for the girls?”

CP groaned.

“I mean, the vehicles. Tech combined with the power to Shift presents some pretty exciting weaponry possibility. We’ve already proven it can work with the quantum grenades. And I also sent you a report on some further ideas on the defences for the Hub.”

“Don’t tell me. You want to bring in some sharks?”

Carl blinked. “Sharks, sir?”

I waved him away. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, right. Well, some of the legacy systems are a bit antiquated, and many were disabled after the last war, but–”

“I’m sure the Com will look forward to hearing all about your ideas at a later stage,” Zac said. “But for now, he needs to get some rest.”

“Oh, yes. Of course. But if you have a few minutes, I could explain my idea for a quantum cannon.”

“Later, Carl,” Zac said, pulling me away.

“See ya, sir,” CP said.

“See ya, Cleo,” I said.

“We’ll talk later, then, sir,” Carl shouted after us as we walked away.

“Well, he hasn’t changed,” I said.

Zac laughed. “Wait till he starts going on about his plans for a robot army.”

We walked towards a huge set of stainless steel doors, easily twenty feet high, embedded in the grey concrete. Zac slammed a yellow button and slowly the doors inched open, revealing a row of large spikes protruding out of the bottom, making it look like a portcullis.

Two soldiers stood on guard on the other side. They turned to us as we ducked under the door, avoiding the spikes.

“It’s you, sir,” one of the soldiers said, a bright smile on his shiny face. “We heard about the level sixteen. That’s the highest so far, am I right?” He looked over at his friend while I stared, wide-eyed.

“Um…”

“How do you do it?” the other guard asked.

“Well, I just… you know… do?” It was weak, but it seemed to suffice. In fact, they nodded as if what I’d said was in fact totally profound, rather than being utter nonsense.

I flinched as the door started to descend again.

“What do you think of the new defences, sir?” the first guard said. “Ten inches thick, able to withstand a bomb strike. It’s official; the Hub is the safest place in Britain.”

“Very impressive.” I smiled grimly at the guards. They returned my smile with glowing pride. I felt sick.

Zac saved me from any more of the adoration of my fans. “If you’re quite done wasting the Commandant’s time…”

The guards muttered their apologies and went back to their guard duty.

“Wait here,” Zac said, “I don’t like to park it in the hangar. You never know what modifications Carl might make.”

I didn’t get a chance to ask what “it” was before Zac went jogging off away from the doors. I walked forward, leaving the soldiers and the defences behind, and onto the street.

We were somewhere in one of London’s more upmarket areas, guessing by the looming white buildings in the Palladian style: all stone columns and pediments. The hulking great lump of grey concrete that was the first level of the Hub had been squeezed in between two buildings, which must have been at least three hundred years old.

I could see a small park up ahead, an oasis of nature in a city of stone. Pale morning sun shone through the rustling leaves and I saw a squirrel dash across a branch. It was good to be out in the open air, even if I could smell the cloying sweetness of burning. The recycled air in the Hub had made my eyes dry and my throat scratchy, like when you’ve been on an airplane for too long.

A low rumbling sounded and I jumped, scanning the sky to check for another helicopter or drone. There was nothing but the felt-grey clouds.

The rumbling grew louder and a sleek black car pulled around a corner. The door opened.

“Get in,” Zac said, then added an awkward “sir” as an afterthought.

I climbed into the seat and closed the door. “One thing, Zac,” I said. “You can quit it with the ‘sir,’ OK?”

“Sure thing, Tyler,” Zac said with a crooked smile. “Like old times, hey?”

He slammed the accelerator and the vehicle leapt forward.

“Sure,” I said, looking through the holes in the metal plates and out onto streets I didn’t know. “Just like old times.”

CHAPTER FOUR

I didn’t know where we were going, and I was content to let Zac drive. I sat back, hardly able to see anything outside. Every now and then, I would catch a glimpse of a face in a window. But they always turned away, terrified, and scuttled back into hiding. What had this war done to these people? What had
I
done to them? Guilt coiled around my spine like a snake pulling tighter and tighter.

The only sign that anyone still lived in these streets was graffiti on walls and across fences. Most of it appeared pro-army; images of brave British soldiers fighting off enemies. But there were a few scrawled phrases that didn’t see quite so keen on the war effort. “Screw. This. War.” was written in six-foot-high letters on the side of a derelict building. I couldn’t agree more.

There was also that word again. Shine. I’d seen it when we had been running through the streets. And here it was once more, sprayed in red paint over and over.

“What does that mean?” I said, nodding at the graffiti.

“Shine?” Zac said. “No idea. It’s been appearing more and more lately.” He shrugged and looked back to the road. And then groaned.

“What is it?”

“Roadblock.”

Zac pulled to a halt in front of a red-and-white barrier. An armed solider sauntered over to the car and knocked on the side window.

Zac sighed and rolled it down. “Good morning, Private,” he said with forced cheeriness.

The private leant forward and peered through the window. “It’s still curfew… Oh.” He stopped, seeing our uniforms for the first time. “S3, is it?” He didn’t sound too impressed.

“Yup,” Zac said, showing him a tattoo on his right arm – the same tattoo I had – as if it was ID enough.

The soldier sniffed and straightened up. “On you go then.” He waved us through the barrier.

“Well, he didn’t seem too friendly,” I said when we were clear.

“The army pretty much hate us.”

“But I thought we are the army?”

“We’re special forces,” Zac said with a grin. “We get all the cool toys and missions, while they get sent off to foreign countries to get their balls blown off. Poor bastards.”

We drove through another three roadblocks, the soldiers on duty looking less and less happy to see us each time, before Zac pulled up outside a block of modern, glass-fronted flats and killed the engine. The silence after the roar of the car was unsettling, emphasising the quietness of the streets.

“Where is everyone?” I said.

“There’s still half an hour till curfew ends.” He tapped at the watch on his wrist; it read 5.33am. “So they’re either inside, or sneaking about and hoping nobody catches them,” Zac said, opening his door.

I waited, assuming he was stopping to get something. But he walked around the front and opened my door, too.

“Well, are you getting out?”

“But… I don’t live here,” I said, stepping out of the car and looking up at the building. The pale, dirty skies reflected in the windows made it look a stone obelisk. It must have been one of the only buildings I’d seen that was still intact.

“Um, yeah you do,” Zac said, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Penthouse suite, buddy.”

I followed him towards an armed guard protecting the entrance. The man stiffened upon my approach, jerking his gun to his chest. I ignored him, sick of guns and men snapping to attention whenever they saw me, and pushed through the doors.