New World Rising (20 page)

“I was able to staunch it, but I’m afraid if your heart rate rises again the patch won’t hold.”

“Doc put a kit in my bag, there’s got to be something in there.” Mouse jumped up, scampering to find my bag. I touched my chin, my hand coming back slick. “How far did I fall down the shaft?”

I vaguely remembered those few moments before I had blacked out.

“Maddox and I caught you before you fell, but you managed to hit your chin pretty hard before that. You split it pretty badly.”

As my vision continued to clear, I looked harder at Triven. There was blood smeared on his cheek and his hands were tinged red. I was sure there was blood coating his clothing as well, but the black fabric hid any trace of it. He looked tired, his bright eyes dimmer than usual. Mouse returned with my bag and I reluctantly looked away from his face. After rifling through its contents, Triven came up with a small silver tin. Inside Doc had packed three bottles of green serum, a suture kit, a roll of bandages and several small blue pills. While I had no clue what the majority of those things were, relief washed over Triven’s face as he looked over the supplies.

He smiled. “That Doc is a good man.”

He pulled out one of the green vials and began stripping away the bandages on my arm. Mouse grabbed my other hand in support. The wound looked worse than I had imagined. The bullet had gone straight through, but the skin around the opening had turned a sickly grey color. Though I knew little about medicine, I knew it wasn’t good.

“This is going to burn, but then it should get better. Normally I would sedate you, but we don’t have anything.” Triven’s hand shook a little as he held the vial over my arm. His other hand clasped down on my collarbone to hold me steady. I could see the regret in his hazel eyes.

Never taking my eyes from his, I nodded, gritting my teeth. “Do it.”

Burn was an understatement. My entire body seized as the green ooze came in contact with my open flesh. It felt like he had just shoved a hot poker into my arm. Pain radiated out from the wound, pulsing though my body with a heartbeat of its own. It took everything I had not to scream. Mouse’s hand closed tighter around mine and I closed my eyes as they rolled back into my head. I didn’t want to scare her further. The pain seared until I could feel nothing else but the flames. Eventually, I could feel Triven’s hand on my chest and the pain began to recede.

When I opened my eyes again there were fresh tears on my cheeks, but my head had seemed to clear. I glanced at my arm in shock. Where there had been torn flesh and exposed muscle tissue, there was now only a perfectly round scab about the size of my thumb. Tentatively, I ran my hand over the raised flesh. It was hot to the touch, but the pain was a fraction of what it was. What was once unbearable now felt like an old, achy wound.  I turned my stunned gaze to Triven’s.

“Amazing, isn’t it? One of Doc’s own inventions. Burns like hell, but kills off all infection in the process. Its healing qualities are not quite as good as the regeneration serum, but it’s still better than sutures.”

“We should get moving.” I tried to push myself up but Triven held me down.

“It’s been a long night and we have an even longer one ahead of us. Mouse says we’re safe here for now and I think it’s best if we all eat and rehydrate. Besides, I think we need a new plan.”

“They knew we were coming.” I whispered to him, shooting a sideways glance in Maddox and Brant’s—I might as well call him something—direction.

Triven followed my gaze.

“I know.” He whispered before finding us something to eat.

THE MRES TASTED
horrible after eating home-cooked meals over the past weeks. A few months ago and this meal would have been a delicacy, but now it was hard to stomach. Mouse never left my side as we ate, her worried eyes darting continually to mine. Doc’s serum worked magic on my body. What had once felt feverous and weak, now felt rejuvenated. Even the cut on my chin had scabbed over with surprising speed. It seemed like such a waste of talent, that a man like Doc Porters was residing in an underground culture with limited resources. If he had access to the machines and technology here, his potential would be endless. I wondered vaguely what would make a man of his talents leave a place like this, if his reason had been like my parents’ or if they were his own. Either way, I would never know. My parents’ reasons died with them and we would be lucky to see tomorrow, much less Doc again.

By the time I finished my meal— an old habit of never wasting anything, no matter how bad it tasted— I noticed Mouse had barely touched hers. More food had been pushed around than actually eaten. Upon meeting my gaze her eyes filled with tears again. She set aside her food and signed.
I’m sorry.
The pain was clear on her round face. Glancing up, I saw that Triven and the other two men were bent in conversation as they heated their meals.

I spoke in a low voice as to not call attention to us. “You knew this would happen didn’t you? That we would be ambushed?”

She shook her head. I could tell she was being truthful.

“But you thought this might happen?”

She nodded, her bottom lip trembling.

“You wanted to protect us.” I knew this even without her answer. Mouse wasn’t trying to be defiant before; she was trying to help us.

“Is there another way out of here?” The men’s murmurs had stopped. They were listening now.

She nodded again, but I could see the hesitation behind her eyes. There may be another way out, but our chances weren’t good and it wasn’t going to be easy. It also didn’t escape my attention that she was scared, though I couldn’t be sure if it was because of the situation we were now in or because she was back inside The Sanctuary.

“We can’t get there from here, can we?”

She shook her head.

“We have to go up to the surface.” I assumed and she nodded, confirming my thoughts. I opened my mouth to ask her another question, but it never made it past my lips.

Brant what’s-his-face jumped to his feet, descending on us with alarming intensity. Triven was only steps behind him, both of their meals forgotten on the ground. Maddox picked up Triven’s and began to eat it, obviously unconcerned.

“Why the hell are we listening to this little misfit? She’s the one that got us into this freaking mess in the first place. Don’t touch me!” He shook off Triven’s warning hand. “All we have done is listen to this brat and look where we are! Stuck in a freaking drainage system while being hunted by enemies we know almost nothing about, not to mention the fact that the rest of our team now lies dead in the Ravagers’ back alley. I say screw the kid. She got us in this. Hell she might even be the cause of it, so she should get us out. She’s the one they want anyway! If we just hand her over, maybe they will give us asylum—”

I had had enough. His fat little sausage finger was pointed at Mouse’s terrified face. Even in my depleted state I was faster than he was. In one bound, I threw Mouse protectively behind me and grabbed his finger, bending it so far backwards I could feel the bones threatening to break. The massive blonde guard fell to his knees before me, twisting to try and free himself. But I held fast.

My voice was perfectly even when I spoke. “We will be moving forward with the plan as instructed by Arstid with one amendment. We will acquire civilian uniforms and blend in. While topside we will gather as much information as we can, but our main objective now is to escape. Together. We are sitting ducks here and this little girl is our only hope of getting out. If you come anywhere near her, if you so much as look at her wrong, or even look like you’re thinking about betraying us, I will put a bullet in your head. No hesitation. Got it?”

I bent his finger back further emphasizing my point.

He screamed through his teeth. “Got it! I GOT IT!”

I set him free and began packing my bag. “We leave on the hour.”

TRIVEN HAD SAID
nothing about my outburst and Maddox seemed to find it more amusing than threatening. Still, Brant had shut his mouth and fell in line like a good little soldier. But one of us always had an eye on him just in case.

Moving had given me a sense of accomplishment but now standing in wait as a ten-year-old child stole clothing for us made my whole body ache with anxiety. We were stopped at the dead end of a large tunnel. A ladder with a blue wave symbol painted on its side was the only way of escape. I had had to watch Mouse disappear up the ladder with nothing more on her than the knife I had hidden in her boot. I had tried to insist on coming with her but she had relentlessly refused me, signing over and over again,
danger.
I had left her with a final warning that if she wasn’t back within fifteen minutes I was coming after her guns blazing. To make my attitude worse, as Mouse disappeared, Brant had muttered something about “That’s the last we’ll ever see of her.”

I seriously thought about breaking his nose.

At eight minutes and forty-three seconds Mouse’s feet reappeared on the ladder rungs. She was grinning, clearly proud of herself. She had managed to procure a linen bag nearly as big as herself and in it were differing colors of uniforms for each of us.

Triven gathered her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Good job kiddo. You might have just saved us all.”

Brant rolled his eyes, but when he caught the expression on my face he quickly grabbed his blue workman uniform and retreated further down the tunnel to change. The clothing was all loosely sewn, allowing us to keep our fatigues on under them. Triven, Mouse and I were all dressed alike in white linen civilian uniforms. The flowy garbs were identical with no distinction between the male and female, except for the cut in the tunic. Triven’s tunic was broader in the shoulders whereas mine was cut wide below the waist allowing for the hips I didn’t have. The pants were a simple plain white linen that came down to our toes with a drawstring waist. I had to roll the tops of mine twice to accommodate my shorter legs. The tunics were equally loose, falling just past our knees, giving away little of a person’s shape, which in our case was great for concealing weapons. In our favor there were also deep hoods that once pulled up concealed our faces nicely. Maddox and Brant, however, were less lucky.

The workmen’s uniforms were more like jumpsuits. Like ours they were loose-fitting, but they were one solid piece with a single zipper up the front. Good for concealing weapons, bad for retrieving them. They were also sans hoods, leaving their faces exposed. Brant’s uniform was a dark blue, which Arstid had informed us, was water maintenance. Maddox wore one of dark green, indicating a yard and garden worker. Mouse pointed to Brant’s long hair and mimed tucking it into his collar. Mumbling something unintelligible he followed the instructions. Triven tossed the now empty bag at Brant.

“You can hide your packs in this. Plus it wouldn’t hurt to put in a few weapons that you might need as a last resort.” He turned back to us and laid the map in front of Mouse. “How far do we need to go?”

She squinted at the map and pointed to a large building on the far northwest corner. The building was significantly larger than the others around it. I remembered Arstid marking it as a government building of sorts.

“Where are we now?” I traced the city lines, mapping out all direct accesses.

Mouse poured over the map, but looked confused. We had worried that the city might have changed over the years and from the look on Mouse’s face it had. Eventually, she shrugged and circled a general vicinity with her finger. Rocking back on my heels I let out a shallow breath. If she was right, we were a few hours walk from the destination. We would be cutting it close with the curfew. If we could run it, the timing wouldn’t be an issue, but we had to blend in, so sprinting through the city was not an option. I glanced up to find Triven’s eyes on me. I could see the same thoughts running through his mind as well. After I had committed our general route to memory, Triven folded the map and slipped it into his breast pocket.

We ascended the ladder in silence, Mouse leading the way. At the top was a metal door that she easily pushed aside and scrambled out. As I emerged from the hole, I understood why Mouse had picked this specific hatch over the others we had passed and how she had acquired the uniforms so quickly. The access panel we had just crawled out of ended in some kind of laundry depository. The air smelled faintly of bleach and cleaning chemicals and was sticky with moisture. Piled in neat little groupings in front of their coordinating colored bay doors, were stacks of clean uniforms. There were a few windows, but they were all high up on the walls and clouded over with years of dust and steam. A dim glow was the only thing visible through them. Voices could be heard coming from the front of the building. Mouse pointed towards the blue set of bay doors and we moved out.

Triven glided through the warehouse silently. Watching him move was mesmerizing. The few times we had run rooftops together, he had let me take lead. But now, following behind him, I was amazed by his sense of body. He moved with a grace I wasn’t sure I could ever possess. I shook the thought from my mind as he reached the metal door. To our shock there weren’t locks on any of the doors, it was as if security wasn’t an issue here, although clothing here obviously wasn’t the commodity it was in Tartarus. Lifting in unison, Triven and I pushed the door up just high enough for us to slip under. A bright light poured in from the outside. Every muscle in my body tensed as I waited for an alarm to rise or the metal door to squeak in protest, but nothing happened.

Triven pointed to us in turn. “Maddox, you will take lead. After a thirty-second count Bowen will follow—”
Guess his name wasn’t Brant after all.
“The three of us will be behind you in another thirty. Take your cues from the people around you. It is imperative that we blend in. Eyes open and stay sharp. If you can get a count on soldiers and weapons even better.”

He paused.

“If something happens, if someone approaches you, stay calm. The main goal is to get out alive. If we get separated keep moving north by northwest.”

With a nod Maddox dropped and rolled through the gap disappearing from sight. We held for thirty count, which I spent glaring a warning at Brant— I was just going to call him that anyway. When he disappeared Triven took my hand squeezing it tightly.

I squeezed back.

On thirty I moved first. Dropping low, I rolled over the threshold and slumped silently to the ground. The instant my feet hit, I recoiled covering my eyes. I could hear the noises of the street nearby, but the blinding light was so painful I knew we must be under attack. Hastily, I pulled the gun from my belt and aimed into the unseen. What the hell had we just walked into?

I barely heard the feet hit the ground next to me, but I recognized Triven’s hands as they wrapped over mine. They forced my hands down concealing the gun as he whispered in my ear.

“It’s okay, Prea. It’s just the sun, give your eyes a moment to adjust.”

The sun? But it was too bright. Even as the thought crossed my mind, the alley we stood in came into better view. I could see outlines, then the building’s bricks, then Triven’s face next to mine. Mouse was protectively hidden behind his back. My finger came off the trigger instantly. The tension left both their bodies as mine relaxed.