Evolution (20 page)

The words swim in my mind, loud, incoherent, but full of
meaning.  I've heard them a thousand times before.  More than
that.  These words are part of me, as much as the tower. 
Lily,
don't be afraid.  You've found what you've been looking for.
  I
understand the truth of them without questioning it.  But I'm fazed. 
I'm blinking.  Everything has gone a bit blurry.  I try to focus on
the youth in front of me.  His form shifts like that of a ghost, fuzzy
lines, unsteady.  Is he really like that, or is it me?  I'm guessing
the latter, judging from the pounding in my head.

"Who are you?" I choke out, but he doesn't
answer.  His eyes are still wide, like he's the one who's seeing a ghost.

The noise below us jars me to new awareness.  That was
not just a gunshot, but an explosion, and not far off.

"Crap," the boy says, glancing downward.  He
looks worried.  There are footsteps now, running down the stairs from
above.

I dive for my knife.

Below, another explosion, closer.  A wave of dust
billows in through the arched doorway and wafts upward.  My fingers are
around my knife, I'm up, and turning to run down the stairs, but he grabs me by
the arm.

"Wait."

"Eden!"  It's Apollon's voice, bouncing up to
us from somewhere below.

"Up here!"  I hear the sound of his feet on
the stairs.  Is it just him?  Where's Jonas and Jacob?

A group of men, and one girl, pour down the stairs from
above.  They slam to a halt as they hit the landing and stare at me. 
It only lasts an instant.

The noises below are worse.  There's the sound of
automatic gunfire.  Short bursts.  Concrete taking bullets. 
Grunts and screams.  I know these noises too well.

"Holy hell," one of the men says, "it had to
be now."  He gestures and the group runs past me.  Only as they
go do I see the load of guns they are carrying.  They head down the
stairs, where Apollon is just emerging onto the platform, looking wide-eyed and
confused as they barrel by him.  The man who is in charge claps the
brown-eyed youth on the shoulder before going after the others.  "Get
her out of here," he says darkly.  "We'll meet you at the
house."  He eyes me briefly as he steps toward the stairs, hoisting
an assault rifle.

"...What the hell...?" says Apollon softly,
stepping to my side.

"Gang wars," the youth supplies quickly, pulling
me toward the stairs.  "No time to explain.  Don't worry. 
There's a back way.  There wasn't always.  We made one."

We're running down the stairs, and Apollon is giving me a
funny look.  “Nothing like a little deus ex machina,” he says.

“Hunh?”

“Let’s just say this is quite the coincidence.”

It is.  Quite.  But I’m not worrying about that
right now.  There are more important things.  "Where's
Jonas?" I ask.  "Did he come in here with you?  Is he
OK?"

"He was a little slower," Apollon says
uncertainly.  "Jacob's not up to full speed.  They weren't far
behind me."

We make it to the lower level.  The inside chamber is
deserted, but just outside the door we hear rapid fire.  Another explosion
rocks the whole building, sending a second wave of dust at us.

"Jonas."  I cover my mouth and nose with my
sleeve.  Panic is rising inside me.  "We have to find him."

"We will." Apollon sounds so much more confident
than I feel.  "But we can't go that way for sure.  Let's try
this back way out."

Reluctantly, I go along with them.  The youth leads us
through a series of chambers.  I can hardly see in all the dust that's
being kicked up.  Two human-sized shadows appear in the gloom ahead of us.

"Eden!"  Jonas' voice, carrying toward me,
might be the sweetest thing I've ever heard.

"Here!" I say.  The youth, next to me, has
his gun pointed toward them.  I push his arm down. 
"Friends."

He doesn't waste a beat.  He moves past them without a
glance, still leading us toward the back exit.  I stay close behind him,
afraid of losing him in all the dust.  Another blast, and the whole
building trembles.  It's been here for hundreds of years, but what's to
say it won't collapse today?

There's a board leaning against a wall.  The youth
slides it away to reveal a hole.  He climbs through, then offers me a
hand.  I still have my pack, so I use both hands to steady myself as I
crawl through, my pack scraping the sides.  It's even harder for the boys
to follow after me.  Apollon has to shove his pack through first, and then
climb through.

We emerge into another narrow alley.  It's far from
safe.  The gunfire is still too close, and moving this way.  We're
about to be boxed in.  We run for the end of the alley.

The youth stops against the wall at the end and risks a
glance out.  He curses softly under his breath.  Bullets whiz past on
the street.  "We're going to have to fight our way free.”  He
nods at me.  "Get ready to run."  He breaks cover and
begins firing.  His pistol is semi-automatic, but it's hardly a match for
the bigger guns the gangbangers are carrying.  Nevertheless, I can't help
but notice that he wields it accurately.  We dive across the open street,
making for the alley gap on the other side.  Bullets fly through the
street where we were.  We huddle against the wall and look back as the
youth joins us.

The first thing I see is how he's holding his stomach. 
The second is that his face has gone deathly pale.  Blood crawls out of
the gaps between his fingers.  His other hand raises toward us, trembling,
the gun dangling off his fingers.  "You're going to need this,"
he chokes out.

I catch him as he stumbles forward.

Apollon yanks the gun from his hand and whirls to fire at
the alley opening.  "Go!"

We retreat down the alleyway, me supporting the youth. 
Jonas and Jacob are behind me.  Apollon brings up the rear, occasionally
firing behind us.  We manage a few turns, and put some distance between
ourselves and the worst of the fighting.  There seems to be a few people
dogging us, but Apollon is holding them back with return fire.

We need to get further away, but the youth is slowing, his
movements becoming muddied and heavy.  I push him against a wall, where he
slides down onto the alley's pavement.  I squat at his side and carefully
pry his fingers from his stomach to check his wound.  It reminds me of the
night Apollon got stabbed.  Only, as soon as I see the wound, I know that
this is worse.  Far worse.  I've hardly realized that he's not going
to survive this, when he starts fading.

I glance at the boys, a stone's throw away at the end of our
alley.  Apollon is firing, Jacob and Jonas both weaponless, but at his
side.  Jonas glances back and meets my gaze.  His own gaze
darkens.  He walks quietly toward me.

I smooth back the youth's hair, my touch as tender as
possible.  I want to say something—tell him it's OK—but it's not. 
He's so young, and he's dying.  He gazes up at me through brown eyes that
instantly pierce my heart, reminding me of Oscar.

He tries to speak, and at first, he can't seem to get it
out.  His words are stuttering, broken by shivers and spasms of
pain.  "Lil—y," he says.  "You have— Y— You have
t—"

Jonas kneels down at his other side, touching his
shoulder.  The youth's eyes go to him for the first time.  They grow
round with surprise.  Whatever he was going to say to me is
forgotten.  His last breath is spent on the word, "Jason." 
He dies with a little smile on his face.

Jonas and I stare at each other over the body in
silence.  I can't even begin to identify all the rampant emotions I am
feeling.  Only the return of our friends and the need to flee gets either
of us going.  We run away down the alleys, leaving the boy behind. 
We run and run.  Eventually, signs of pursuit have stopped.  We catch
our breath, sink down against a wall, and try to ignore the smell of piss. 
Ignore the heaviness of the day.  But none of us speaks.  We're all
just staring vacantly.

At long last, it's me that says, "I have to go back
there.  I have to find those people."

Apollon's eyes flash.  "Seriously?  Who were
they?"

I shrug.  "They were what I've been looking
for."

He frowns, but says nothing.

A moment later, Jonas says, "The fighting will probably
be clear of there before long.  It seems to move around."

I look at Jacob, and he's still staring into space.  He
looks like a hollow version of the Jacob I have known.  I wonder if he
even hears us.

We share out some food from our packs, then struggle to our
feet and head carefully back in the direction of the tower.  Jonas is
right that the fighting has moved clear of the place now.  Our biggest
challenge is getting through the city's press of stinking people.  We
shove our way through and arrive at our destination.

I stand on the steps, scanning the sight around me. 
They're all dead.  Dead, naked, stripped of everything.  Just laying
there.  A group of rag-robed beggars is pulling one of the bodies into an
alleyway.  I sick up on the steps.  Then I wipe my mouth, turn, and
walk away.  Jonas is the first to follow.

***

We locate a tavern on the bottom floor of a crumbling
building.  The city must be oldest in this section, because many of the
buildings are shorter.  Whatever upper stories there may have been have
fallen away.  Other buildings appear to have never been strong enough to
support higher levels in the first place.  We're walking toward the
entrance when a woman standing at the front of the neighboring building calls
to a girl across the street.

"Lillianna," her voice flits above the noise of
the crowd, "did you get it?"

Apollon's head turns like a dog smelling a bone.  He
peers through the crowd and finds Lillianna, pushing her way toward the woman,
holding up a small sack.  She's pretty, though slightly bedraggled, her
curly blonde hair looking unwashed and her clothes threadbare.  Apollon
pushes off toward her, which does not surprise me.  The fact that he hauls
Jonas with him does.  Jacob and I trail after them, leaving a bit of
space, but careful not to get separated.

Apollon interjects himself and Jonas, whom he’s gripping by
the elbow, between the older woman and Lillianna.  The girl looks startled,
stopping in her tracks, but Apollon flashes her a reassuring smile and she
relaxes, just a little.  Inwardly, I'm groaning, thinking now is not the
time for chasing women.

"Lillianna, is it?" Apollon says to her.  He
looks hopeful.  "This is my friend.”  He tugs on Jonas' arm,
though he does not offer a name.  "Do you remember him?"

The girl looks confused.  I glance at Jonas, and he's
clearly mortified.  He's shaking his head.  He wipes his hand over
his face and glances over at me.  He looks like he wants to
apologize.  Now I get it.  Lillianna.

Apollon is too intently focused on the girl to notice the
exchange between me and Jonas.

Lillianna is shaking her head, too, an uncertain
gesture.  She looks deeply concerned.  She tries to step around them.

"Wait," Apollon says, but Jonas jabs him with an
elbow.

"Clearly
not
," Jonas growls under his
breath, and pulls Apollon away.  They walk toward us, but now Jonas won't
meet my gaze.  He looks like he's climbing down inside of himself to hide.

Apollon, beside him, turns his palms upward.  "It
was worth a try.  You'll never know if—"

"Thanks," Jonas spits out.  That is clearly
the end of the conversation.  Apollon shuts up.

We walk inside the bar in a tight group, scanning the people
inside and putting out a general air of pissed-offishness.  Hopefully no
one will mess with us.  There's nowhere to sit—standing room only—but at
least we are able to buy a couple of drinks to quench our thirst.

I make a sour face as I take a sip of what is supposed to be
beer.  I'm not sure I want to know what it really is.

Apollon grimaces and chugs his down.

We're supposed to be strategizing and finding a place to
spend the night.  It's possible the barkeep might be able to tell us where
we could hire a room, or even a shed, but the chance to actually speak with him
eludes us.  We linger near the bar and keep an eye out for an opening.

"What the hell happened today?" Apollon asks,
finishing his 'beer'.  His voice is low, so hopefully no one outside our
group will hear over the noise of general conversation.  "I mean,
Taylor.  That shouldn’t have happened."

I take a gulp of my drink, not that I want to.  I
follow that with a deep breath.  Then I say, “The Sentries have been
updated."

All of their eyes fly to me, even Jacob's, and I had the
feeling he wasn't hearing anything.

“Nonono,” says Apollon.  “That’s in Outpost
Three.  We heard about that— the guy with the arm. 
Those
Sentries have been reprogrammed.  Nobody has touched these ones.”

I close my eyes for a second, mentally regrouping. 
Then I say, as calmly as I can, "You think it’s a coincidence that these
ones suddenly know how to do exactly what Matt taught the other ones?  I
bet if you gave them a big gun they could fire it, too. 
These Sentries
have been reprogrammed."  My voice breaks now as I look at Jacob,
shaking my head, "I should have thought of it.  Should have figured
it out...."

Apollon's hand clamps down on my shoulder.  "Who
would have ever thought of that?" he asks.  "It doesn't make
sense.  How the hell are they learning from him?"

I continue shaking my head, feeling suddenly unsteady on my
feet.

There's a long silence.  I can feel Jacob's eyes on me,
and I can't look up to meet them.  I feel like I have killed his brother.
 Why didn’t I see this coming?  Why didn’t I know?  They’re
smarter than we think.

"They're linked," Jonas finally says. 
"We knew that.  We didn't know they could learn from the other
ones.  Clearly they can.  But they're obviously not getting the part
where they should be taking Matt's orders.  They'd have to have their
crystals rewritten for that, right?  Which is impossible now.  So
they're getting smarter and stronger, and they're invulnerable.  That's
bad.  That's really bad."