Evolution (9 page)

“We must be too late,” I say.

“For what?” Darren asks.

“To save the Surface city.”

“Hopefully the commander's plan worked,” Skylar says, adjusting the straps of her sack on her shoulders. “If he triggered the Strykers, the Mardenites were destroyed along with the people.”

I snort. “You saw how big the fleet is. Those bombs couldn't have crippled even half the raiders. Thanks to your precious commander, thousands of people are dead for nothing.”

Dean hesitates. “We don't know that for sure.”

“We will soon enough.”

Skylar's cheeks pinch together, but all she says is, “Let's move out.”

*   *   *

Dean leads the way into the forest, away from the silent battlefield. He keeps a compass in his hand to make sure we're moving in the right direction. He and Skylar plotted out the quickest path to the Pipeline using a map we found in the cockpit. At a fast pace, we can reach the transmission station in three hours, just before sunrise.

I'm worried it's going to take us a lot longer. We're all exhausted from fighting and from lack of sleep. Especially once we have to hike uphill in the snow, it's going to get difficult to keep going.

Darren's breath hitches with every step as he walks beside me. We're a few feet away from the others, walking on the other side of some of the trees. The wind is freezing cold, and my teeth won't stop chattering.

“You can lean on me if you need to,” I say.

“My leg isn't the main problem,” he says, though he touches my shoulder to steady himself. “It's that vruxing poison gas. My skin is still burning.”

I bite my lip. “I'm sorry.”

“Guess I should just be glad I'm alive, instead of a corpse in the engine room or a prisoner of those aliens.” Darren's jaw tightens and he shakes his head in disbelief. “I can't believe we lost everyone else.”

“We'll see them again,” I say firmly. “We're going to find a way out of this. We have to.”

Darren doesn't say anything in reply, just exhales a heavy sigh.

I glance over at Sam, crunching through the leaves on the other side of the trees. He catches me looking at him and meets my gaze head-on. There's a threat in his eyes, and his fingers play with the gun in his holster.

Pressing my lips together, I turn my head away. We're stuck with him and Skylar and Dean because there's no one else left, but we need to remember they're not our allies. Even Dean is only helping so he can hand me over to Charlie again.

*   *   *

The air grows even colder as we begin the trek up the mountains. The storm has finally passed on, but there are fresh patches of snow glistening between the trees. The higher elevation makes it harder to breathe, and my legs are becoming heavier and heavier to lift. I don't see how I'm going to make it much farther.

The Pipeline is just on the other side of these mountains, and so is the transmission station. Another hour and we'll be there. If we take much longer, we'll lose the cover of darkness.

Still, when Darren finally asks if we can rest for a little while and the others agree, I'm glad. All I need to do is close my eyes for a few minutes and I should be able to keep the pace.

“We'll stop for half an hour,” Dean says, setting his pack at the base of a tree. He's shivering and his face is soaked in sweat.

Sam has a hand pressed to his helmet like his head is hurting. Cormac unrolls his bedroll, wincing with every movement.

Skylar takes a seat on a boulder and continues fiddling with the hand-comm she brought from the hovercraft. She seems less sick than the others, though her eyes are also slightly bloodshot. She's been trying to make contact with someone in the Core, now that there's less interference from the raiders.

“This is Cadet Skylar,” she says for the fiftieth time, her voice scratchy from weariness. “I'm with Lieutenants Sam and Dean and we are stranded in Surface Sector H-9, close to the Pipeline transmission station. We are in need of a rescue team. Does anyone copy?”

“Just give up,” Sam says, rummaging through his pack for his water canteen. “If they'd heard our transmission, someone would've answered by now.”

“We might not be able to hear their answer through the interference,” Skylar says.

“That doesn't mean you need to keep saying the same thing over and over. It's not going to make them get here any faster.”

Skylar catches my gaze and rolls her eyes at Sam's comment. I start to smile back, then stop. Rolling eyes at each other and smiling is something friends do, and she and I aren't friends. Not anymore.

I turn away from her. Out of the corner of my eye, her expression hardens and she turns away too.

I take out my sleeping roll and set it on a semi-dry area of the ground, as far away from Sam as possible. I'm anxious to get a few winks of sleep, but first I need to relieve myself. And I'm not going to do it in front of everyone.

“I'll be right back,” I tell Darren, and slip away from the group, moving through the trees.

Soon the camp is out of sight, but I don't stop walking yet. It's nice to finally get away from everyone. It's still dark out, but there's enough moonlight that I can see where I'm going.

I find a bush and unzip the outer layer of my safety suit. There's a special apparatus in the suit that lets me go without being exposed to the air. It's kind of a pain, but it's better than risking moonshine.

It hits me that all the time we've been out here in the mountains, I haven't seen any animals. Not a krail or mountain bird in sight. When Commander Charlie took the acid shield down and the acid seeped into the atmosphere, it must've killed thousands of animals. But then, he never intended for the Surface to continue existing at all. If he'd had his way, his bomb would've blasted the outer sectors apart so his Core battleship could fly far away to Marden, to take back the planet that was our home long ago.

But Beechy, Oliver, and I used his bomb to destroy the acid generator on the moon instead, so Charlie couldn't go through with his plan. Not that it would've worked, anyway. The Mardenite army was already on its way.

I've finished relieving myself and just re-zipped the outer layer of my suit when there's the crunch of boots in the snow behind me.

I spin around as Sam steps out from between the trees.

 

11

He's only a dark shape in the shadows, but I know it's him because of the way he's breathing. He watches me like he's waiting for something.

Now I regret going so far from the camp. “What do you want?” I ask, clenching my hands into fists at my sides.

“I want to know how you did it.” Sam's voice has airiness to it, a quality that makes me think he must still be in a lot of pain from the effects of the poison gas. He takes a slow step forward.

I've been in this scenario before, alone with Sam, and it didn't end well—he attacked me and nearly took advantage of me. Maybe if I act like I'm not afraid of him, he won't try anything. I'd run, but I'm sure he'd chase after me.

“How I did what?” I ask.

“How you avoided capture. I saw the poison bomb drop two feet away from you. You should've been knocked out like the rest of us. The aliens should've found your body in the trees.”

“The poison did knock me out,” I lie. “But I was already far away. You escaped too, didn't you?”

“Barely. The poison was so painful I felt like I was dying. Almost wished I was. But you? You don't even have a scratch.” He takes another step toward me, his eyes full of viciousness. “You keep escaping death, even when you shouldn't. But it's going to end as soon as we return to the Core.”

“Commander Charlie won't hurt me,” I say forcefully. “He wants me alive. He needs me.” I'm grasping at threads of hope here, at things I'm not sure I believe.

Sam lets out a short, cold laugh. “I think you overestimate your worth to him.”

“So do you.” I'm sick of Sam believing he's better than me. “Charlie sent you to the Surface knowing Marden's army could arrive any day now, knowing you could end up in danger. He didn't even trust you with all the information about their return. Think about it, Sam. He's lied to you as many times as he's lied to me, if not more. You're not special to him. You're nothing but a pawn, and if you keep fighting for him, you're going to die for him too.”

In a flash, Sam moves to strike me. I jump back, blocking his punch with my forearm. But Sam comes back faster. His fist slams into my ribs, knocking the breath out of me.

Before I can recover, he's pummeling me again, smacking my chest and shoulder with his fists so hard I lose my balance. I hit the ground on my side, gasping from the pain.

There's no time to rest. He comes at me and I kick at his leg, knocking him a step backward.

As I scramble to my feet, he punches me square in the chest. There's a cracking sound and a hot flash of pain in my chest that makes me scream. He snapped one of my ribs.

Sam knocks me onto the ground a second time, and this time I'm too weak to get back up. My chest feels like it's on fire, and the pain worsens every time I draw in breath.

Sam gets on top of me, pressing his weight into my body. I struggle beneath him but I'm pinned to the ground. I can barely move my arms.

“Help me!” I yell as loud as I can.

Didn't anyone notice Sam come after me? Why hasn't anyone come looking?

Sam wraps his fingers around my neck. He squeezes hard, making it impossible for me to speak or get any air in.

My gun. I need to get it out.

“You think you know who I am,” Sam says. “But you're wrong. You have no idea what I would do for Commander Charlie.”

I draw the gun from my holster, but I lose my grip on it and Sam kicks it out of my reach.

I flail beneath his weight, trying desperately to get air into my lungs. He's squeezing my neck too hard. He's going to choke me to death.

No one's coming to help me. I have to escape on my own.
How?

Suddenly I remember—the syringes in my holster pouch.

Everything's becoming hazy, but somehow I manage to open the pouch. I wrap my hand around one of the syringes and pull it out. Sam is wearing armor that protects him almost everywhere, but there are a few weak spots, including the place where I shot his leg earlier tonight. The way he's crouched on top of me, his ankle is within reach.

Gathering all my energy, I stab the needle through the bandage on his leg and press the plunger. Sam lets out a gasp and releases my neck a little, enough for me to get some air in.

I kick at his groin as hard as I can. His weight gives out and I shove him off me, scrambling to my feet. He's hardly fighting me anymore; he's groaning from the kick to his groin, and he seems dazed and confused. The serum is working fast.

I pull the second syringe out of the holster pouch and stab the needle into Sam's leg. Within moments, his body falls limp on the ground. His eyes glaze over in his head. I bet his pulse is weakening.

Anger still courses through my veins. I draw the last syringe from my pouch. I take a step toward Sam.

A third dosage might kill him. A simple stab and press of the plunger, and I'd have one less enemy to worry about. If Sam were in my shoes, he'd give it to me without a second's thought.

But as I stare at him, helpless on the ground, I realize I can't go through with it. Sam can't hurt me anymore. And if I killed him when he was completely incapable of defending himself, what would that make me?

It would make me exactly like the Developers, the people I've been fighting.

Sam isn't my real enemy—he's just a pawn. A stupid boy who's been manipulated and warped into following orders, bred to be a ruthless killer like his commander.

Commander Charlie is the one I need to kill. And I will kill him, once the threat of Marden's army has been removed. I'll make him pay for everything he's done.

There's rustling in the trees behind me. I spin around and a light shines in my eyes, from Dean's armor. He and Skylar step into view, both of them out of breath.

“Did you call for help?” Dean asks.

“I did,” I say, suddenly nervous.

His light lands on Sam's crumpled body on the ground behind me, and he freezes. Skylar's eyes slide from Sam to me, still standing with the syringes in my trembling hand. I just subdued an officer. People have been put to death in gas chambers for much less than this.

“H-he attacked me,” I explain. There's water in my eyes, and I blink it out. “He tried to choke me to death.”

Skylar stares at the syringes in my hand. “Did you subdue him?”

“I had to,” I say. “He was going to kill me.”

Dean curses loudly.

“I'm sorry—”

“Don't be. The idiot had it coming.” Dean moves toward me, his boots crunching in the snow. “How much did he hurt you? Are you okay?”

“My neck hurts,” I say, wincing. “And I think I fractured a couple ribs.” Every time I draw in breath, the pain is excruciating.

He touches the bandage on my arm. When he pulls his hand away, there's blood on his fingers. My wound must've opened up again.

Behind Dean, Skylar kicks at Sam's limp leg with her boot. He doesn't respond, not in the slightest. His eyes are still open, but they're glazed over. He seems like he's drifting in some other world inside his head.

“How much serum did you give him?” she asks.

I bite my lip. “Two dosages.”

Skylar snorts. “That explains it.”

She's laughing now, but what's going to happen once we're back in the Core? I don't think the Developers will be so amused when they hear what I did to Sam.

“I'm going to get in trouble for this, aren't I?” I ask.

“No, you're not,” Dean says. “Because no one's going to find out you gave him the serum. We'll say it was me. Sam attacked you, Skylar and I heard you call for help, and I took care of him.”