Firewall (Magic Born) (23 page)

“That was it, that was it!”

“Lizzie did it, I can feel her.”

“Can we push the virus through without Tuyet?”

“I don’t think so. Calla, can you get to her?”

“I can see her avatar behind the hex field. Help me punch a hole in that and I’ll get her out.”

Calla. Vadim. Jason. Everything snapped into place with a jarring suddenness. Light cut through the darkness, a solid line of neon red.

“Follow me out before it repairs itself!” Calla circled her then led the way out of the hex field.

The moment Tuyet burst free of the field, the stranglehold on her mind and on her magic disappeared. She’d encountered hexes that dense and dark before, but never so massive. TMG’s security was impressive, and scary as hell. What the hell was a civilian company doing wielding magic like that? If she’d still been a Ranger she might have been willing to poke around further, but right now she had a bigger mission to complete.

Tuyet followed Calla’s red neon, which shone like a beacon in the night of TMG’s intranet. No part of realspace intruded, she was so deep into trance. She was a being of pure electricity and magic. With the added boost of power drawn from the city and the ongoing protest, she was able to cut through the lines of code and spells with ease. Soon she found what she was looking for.

There were multiple destinations for the virus. TMG’s website, their news and weather-alert subscription lists, various mobile apps and the live television broadcast. She might have been able to do two or three on her own, or with just the help of her friends, but to hit all the targets they’d needed whatever Lizzie could draw and send their way.

Tuyet flagged the destinations in the company’s intranet. Calla’s avatar swelled with light and power. Tuyet imagined her own did the same. She launched the virus, each destination getting a tailor-made version. First yellow light, then red, green and a massive wave of blue pushed the viruses home.

The lattice of the firewall began to collapse under the weight of the attack. Lines of code disintegrated. Spells dissolved into free-floating magic that Tuyet and the others gathered and directed to help push the viruses along.

A warning instinct blared in her awareness a split second before she crashed into realspace. Blood pounded in her ears. Someone grabbed her by the shoulders and wrenched her backward, tossing her to the floor. She blinked until her vision cleared from the overload of magic, then raised her head to see her attacker.

Channing. Damn it, why couldn’t that bastard go down and stay down?

Chapter Thirty

The column of translucent energy surrounding Lizzie began to crackle. A rip opened up, causing her to bob up and down a few times before stabilizing. Hayes kept his eyes on her the whole time, ready to get under her if she started to fall. Nate took up the same stance on the opposite side of the column.

By the time she returned to the ground in a controlled descent, Hayes was covered in sweat and almost shaking from tension. The column of energy dissolved completely, the last vestiges of it sinking into the asphalt with an audible hiss.

Hayes darted forward, but Lizzie fell backward—thankfully, Nate caught her. She shivered in his arms.

“I could feel Vadim,” she said, voice quavering. “The others too, I think. I don’t know their energy like I do his.”

“Do you think it worked?” Hayes took her hand in one of his, then placed his other on the asphalt. He couldn’t tell if she needed help grounding but it couldn’t hurt.

Nate settled Lizzie on the floor with care. “If it did, the video should be out there by now.” He took out his phone and thumbed through for the TMG mobile app.

“—told that our children would be cared for, but now they don’t have enough to eat because the adults in the zone can’t work anymore. They put that ordinance in place with no thought to increasing rations, no thought.” The woman speaking halted, losing her calm. “They lied and we want our children back.”

Nate held the phone where all three could watch. They knew the contents of the video, of course, but it going out on the country’s biggest news source was something they had to see. The image changed from a woman with an obscured face to footage of the deadly Friday night protest.

“This is New Corinth.” Hayes recognized the voice of Jason Beckwith. “Magic Born are slowly starving. Normals are being shot in the streets. This is what the Magic Laws have done to our city.”

The video zeroed in on a very clear and unmistakable shot of a riot-geared police officer shooting a fleeing protester in the back.

“This is New Corinth.”

The image cut to a wide shot of black-clad cops flanking an armored personnel carrier as a rocket-propelled grenade was launched at a crowd of people running away.

“This is New Corinth.”

Next came screenshots of the final text messages from Paula. Hayes couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Lizzie got to her feet with minimal assistance, already looking stronger. “Thank you.”

He kissed her cheek. “Be safe, Lizzie.” She hugged him quickly.

Nate shook his hand. “Good luck.”

Hayes nodded. “You too.”

That was all the time they had for goodbyes. Nate and Lizzie had to return to FreakTown as fast as possible. He watched them leave the parking garage, glamours in place.

As soon as he cleared the alley, he was back in a dense throng of people. Now though, it wasn’t just protesters and police. The streets were filled with people either on their way to work, or who’d walked out of their offices in shock over the unfolding events. He caught snippets of conversations, face-to-face or held over phones. Most phones played the video in a loop. As he pushed through the crowd, so many phones were held out that he didn’t miss a word of the playback.

Anger, frustration, disgust—all of it rolled off the men and women he passed. But not surprise. The people of New Corinth knew what was happening in their city. There was no way of knowing yet if members of the underground had been able to boost the signal past the local internet providers. He’d like to think all this turmoil in the city had provided enough magic to send the video virus all across the internet backbones of the country, strong enough to repel any attempts to shut it down. They wouldn’t know until later, and right now he had to get to Tuyet.

* * *

Tuyet kept her eyes on Channing as she picked herself up off the floor.

“Take it off,” he snarled. “I want to know which one of you it is.”

She tossed the glamour to the floor, and with it, the last bit of magic she had fizzled away to nothing. First the hex field and then punching through the firewall had cost her everything. Until she had time to recuperate, let her body and spirit recharge, she wouldn’t be able to work the simplest spell.

“What’s it gonna take,” she said, “to scrape you off my shoe like the piece of shit you are?” She should have used every bit of that sedative when she drugged him in the deli, and maybe a crowbar too.

The words had the desired effect. Channing lunged for her. Not that she was necessarily eager for a fight in her current condition, but it was better than listening to him talk. He was out of practice, which gave her the opportunity to dodge his first blows.

He had the advantage of size though. A lucky punch caught her shoulder as she tried to twist out of range. It knocked her off balance and sent her windmilling into a row of monitors. She pushed off the top edge and used the momentum to land a solid kick to his gut.

The hit winded him, but not enough to keep him from running his mouth. “You’re not getting out of here, bitch. The building is locked down.”

She saw the proof of his lie on the screens. The halls were full of people, as were the elevators. The lobby doors were open to the street, people rushing both ways. The fact that he’d gotten in without his badge was clue enough but it was reassuring to see what was playing out inside the building.

Tuyet flexed her hand to direct energy, intending to change one of the monitors to the TMG livefeed, when she remembered she was tapped out, magically speaking. She backed up against a section of desks and surveyed the room. There was nowhere to go. He was between her and the door.

“You’re going to prison, until they kill you.” His heavy footsteps sounded on the floor as he slowly closed the distance between them. He stepped around a desk to enter the same aisle as her. “With any luck, someone will catch your boyfriend and he can get the death penalty right along with you.”

She saw nothing at hand she could use as a weapon. Something to stab, slash, hit him upside the head, anything. But there was nothing that wasn’t bolted down. A sheen of sweat covered his face and he trailed one hand on any surface he could find. Good. The sedatives were still in his system. That, at least, was something she could use.

“If it were up to me, they’d pull the plug on that comatose piece of shit Osman too.”

Pinpoints of rage burned behind her temple. She breathed through it. He was trying to force her to make a move but she wouldn’t let it work. She’d have to do something soon though, or she’d miss the rendezvous with Hayes. Not that he would leave without her anymore than she would leave without him, but if she was too late he might come looking for her and they could miss each other. If she could get a message to him, through Silver Wheels or—

Tuyet remembered the contents of her pocket. Calla had given her a handful of chunky jewelry beads that she’d charged with various types of distraction spells. Tuyet knew just which one she wanted. She slipped her hand in her pocket, grateful she wouldn’t need magic to make it work. Touch was all it took to activate the enchantments—that was why they were so popular with Normals.

“If I get taken in, you won’t be the one to do it.” She held the charm in her palm, letting the warmth of her skin charge it.

He started to speak, but God, she was sick of listening to him. She threw the charm against the floor. It burst into a witchlight V10 Panther Ultrabike from Silver Wheels’ game. Color from the mirrorball helmet turned the dark room into a silent disco. The bike sped past Channing. He dove to one side and lunged for Tuyet.

Tuyet launched herself directly at him. She planted her hands on a desk for leverage and vaulted her body into the air, then scissored her legs to catch him by the throat and used her momentum to force him into a somersault. The room whirled and she fought against vertigo, keeping her breathing steady to stay centered. He hit the floor hard, bouncing off the nearest desk on his way down and landing on the floor on his side. She righted herself quickly and didn’t stop moving.

No way would she give him a chance to follow her to the rendezvous. She couldn’t call on the concrete and earth beneath her, so she drew on a deep well of anger instead. She aimed a kick at Channing’s kidney, Halif’s face so strong in her vision it was like cyberspace and realspace merging together. Still on the ground, Channing swore and made an ineffectual grab for her. She stepped out of his reach easily.

Words on a screen flashed in her mind.

Tunnel flooding.
Is there quicker way out?

Channing gripped the edge of a desk and pulled himself up to a sitting position.

Ppl drowning.
Can you help?

Tuyet brought her hands up in a fighting stance, weight balanced on the balls of her feet. He got himself standing with clumsy movements.

Tunnel flooding.
Ppl drowning.

Tuyet pivoted with her hips and kicked, giving it everything she had. Her boot connected with Channing’s knee. A sickening crunch rent the air like nails on a blackboard. He bellowed as he dropped to the floor, the sound of his agony easing a knot of rage that had festered in her for far too long.

The door hung open. Voices came from the hall. She ignored them, running at top speed to the stairwell through a small throng of guards. Two flights up would get her to the exit.

The lobby was a wide atrium, all glass and chrome and currently full of TMG employees talking animatedly about the virus. She slowed to catch her breath and keep from attracting too much attention. It might have been fun to hang around and hear the gossip, especially to find out just how far the virus was spreading, but she didn’t have that luxury. Getting to Hayes, that was what mattered to her.

The fight and then the run up the stairs had used up the last of her reserves, or so she’d thought. But by the time she reached the street she was running again. She didn’t stop until she was almost to the rendezvous point, six blocks away. A vehicle was supposed to be waiting for them in an alley so they could get out of the city as fast as possible. She didn’t care if she had to walk all the way to the Mexican border though, as long as Hayes was by her side.

Tuyet wiped sweat from her face and rounded the corner into the designated alley. An older model motorcycle sat several feet in, covered in dust and the remnants of a black-and-silver custom paint job. Hayes knelt at the front of it, checking the air pressure in the tires. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him.

He happened to glance in her direction, saw her and stood. “You had another five minutes before I went looking for you.” He smiled as he came toward her, arms outreached.

“Dale,” she whispered as she went into his embrace. “I think it worked.”

“It’s all over the city.” He kissed her, and it felt like coming home. “We have to go. I wish we could make sure everyone made it back to FreakTown okay, but we need some serious miles between us and New Corinth.”

Tuyet nodded and let him lead her to the bike. It would be hours, if not a day or two, before she could trancehack again. It was probably the same for the others. She climbed onto the back of the bike and patted the front of the seat. “I guess I know whose idea this was.”

“Your guess is probably the same as mine.” A pair of helmets, both inconspicuous black, was hidden in a box behind some garbage along the alley wall. He handed her one. “It’s not a V10, but it’ll do.” He flashed her favorite smile before disappearing under his helmet.

In moments they were on their way. He took side streets, back roads and even went off-road when necessary. Less than an hour later he paused the bike at a crossroads on the edge of the wastelands. He raised his visor and said, “Where to?”

Tuyet turned to see the outline of the city far behind them. For the first time in years, a sense of having finished something, completed a mission, filled her. Maybe for the first time ever. She tightened her arms around his waist and gently tapped his helmet with hers. “What do you think of Paris?”

“I hate the food and I mangle the language.” He winked. “Let’s do it.”

They took the old highway south and left New Corinth, and the past, behind.