New World Rising (4 page)

I pinched another piece of rubble in my fingers, ready to fling it when a commotion erupted in the streets beneath me.

Shouting echoed off the abandoned buildings, bouncing back at me from all angles. There was a sound of distant gunfire as I rose to my feet, followed by the Ravager hunting cry. They were tracking someone. That eerie cry meant one thing and one thing only— someone was going to die tonight.

I hopped back over the ledge to the rooftop, it certainly would not be
my
blood spilled tonight. Another cry pierced the night and I reflexively turned in its direction. I could see the Ravagers’ torch lights glowing in the distance. From the sound of it, they were closing in on their prey. I squinted as something moved thirty feet in front of them in the shadows. How strange that they should be hunting at night.

As the thought crossed my mind, the tiny shadow moved into the light from the street lamps. My heart dropped.

She was only a child.

Even from this distance I could see her body shaking with fear. Her long mousy hair clung to the small cherubic face as she searched for an escape. Panic filled me as I watched her frozen frame.

“Run!” I muttered to her under my breath.

Another gunshot fired, the bullet sparking as it struck the lamppost next to her. Falling backwards she scrambled away darting down the nearest alley. My gut clenched. I knew that alley, I knew
every
alley, and she had just trapped herself in a dead-end.

The Ravagers knew it too. Slowing their pace, they sauntered to the mouth of the alley, cat-calling at the little girl.

“
Run away.
” My mind told me. “
Leave her, this doesn’t affect you.”

While I agreed with this callous voice of reason, my body was already in motion. My feet carrying me to the edge of the roof, I blindly dove for the next building, bounding forward when my feet connected. Just one more rooftop and I would be upon her. I sprinted for the back corner of the building where I knew there was a half-constructed drainpipe. It was missing the last fifteen feet to prevent someone from climbing up it. But the drop could be managed with a calculated fall.

Moving like a shadow, I flipped my body over the side of the building and flung myself downward. My feet slid on the metal, finding purchase just before the pipe abruptly cut off. Scanning the dark alley I caught a glimpse of movement behind an overturned dumpster. She was only about ten feet in front of me. I began calculating my jump as the first leather clad hunter appeared at the mouth of the alley. He was idly twirling a bat as his side. Various spikes protruded from the head like lethal thorns.

“Maaaarrrrrco…” He called mockingly from the end of the alley. Rolling laughter erupted behind him as pierced bodies filled the narrow opening. There were about fifteen of them, the glinting metal and shaved heads making it nearly impossible to delineate the men from the women. But from my vantage point, it looked like the hunting pack was mostly male. My stomach churned.

Escape or die. Getting caught was not an option.

The leader took a few calculated steps down the alley, dragging the spikes against the ground as he moved.

“You’re supposed to say ‘Polo’ little one or don’t you want to play with us?” The girl huddled further against the wall. “Don’t worry, we’ll be gentle…”

The knife left my hand as the bloodthirsty crowd exploded with mirth. The blade flickered for an instant in the darkness before burying itself into the leader’s left eye. The ensuing chaos was instantaneous.

The horde continued to laugh for several heartbeats before their leader’s screams reached their ears. When his massive body hit the ground, writhing as he clung to the handle protruding from his eye socket I leapt toward the ground. Calculating the fall, I landed lithely on my feet letting the momentum roll my body forward. But I had underestimated the force of my fall. I rolled out into the center of the alley, stopping in a low crouch as fourteen and a half sets of eyes fell upon me. My gun was drawn and firing before they could react. Darting to the side I ducked behind the dumpster as bullets began to rain down on us. Based on the screams I had hit a few more of the heathens. At least if I was going down I would take a few of the scum with me. A tiny hand grabbed my arm and I turned to meet two terrified brown eyes. I gritted my teeth. She was no older than I was when I was left alone in this city.

Grabbing her petite body I pressed it into mine, shielding her from the onslaught of debris. The bullets were beginning to eat through the rusted metal. It wouldn’t be much longer before they could reach us. It took my ringing ears a second to realize the gunfire had ceased.

Someone was still screaming in pain.

“If you give us the girl, we might just let you live.” A female’s voice called this time.

The child began to shake in my arms again.

“Leave and you may not need an eye patch like your friend.” I called in a calm voice back to her. It was a farce, my only knife was gone and by my count there were only three bullets left in my gun.

“You had better hope this bullet finds you first princess, I won’t be so gentle.” The woman’s voice echoed back.

There was an odd, high-pitched humming coming from the mouth of the alley. Without hesitating I yanked the girl off the ground and ran for the corner where the drainpipe was. If I lifted her high enough there was a ledge barely big enough for a child to stand on, from there she could reach the pipe. At least she could escape.

“You have to climb!” I screamed at her as I thrust her into the air. I felt her tiny feet scramble as her hands found their grip. The humming was getting louder, the tone nearly unbearable. The sound stopped just as she left my hands and my back exploded into shreds of fire where the heat-seeking bullet found me.

I slammed against the wall before staggering backwards, but as I fell there was a second explosion from somewhere behind me. This was not the work of a gun. A brilliant white light swallowed the alley, searing my retinas. I blinked— at least I thought I blinked. It felt like my eyes were open, but I saw nothing. I heard nothing.

I fell at an old angle, my limbs feeling disjointed from my body. Nothing moved, even my chest stilled as the pain seeped through my body.

This was it.

Hands found me, tugging and pulling at my limp body. The Scavengers were already upon me, stealing what little I had left in this world.

A small part of me found peace. So this is how it happens, this is how I die. All of those years of wondering and now I knew…

DEATH WAS NOT
as I had expected it to be. I thought I would drift away, become nothing, and finally get the rest I never had in my damned existence called a life. Instead it smelled funny, like chemicals. And as time pressed on, awareness of my body came back to me. There was no pain, no sight, no sounds. I just felt like a useless body drifting in a sea of nothingness.

I hated it.

When my hearing began to return, I was actually pleased to realize I wasn’t dead. The shock of that realization surprised me. For so long I thought about death and now that I was so close it, I was actually relieved I had eluded it. How strange…

At first there was just a ringing sound. Then, as the ringing slowly faded, voices started to emerge from the silence. I couldn’t understand them at first, but eventually the murmurs started to sound like words. There was one voice I seemed to hear the most. It spoke frequently, in long intervals, its deep rumblings oddly comforting. While the words were often fuzzy, it took me a while to realize he was reading to me.

I drifted from consciousness, my dreams and reality melding together. Time was lost to me. My body refused to respond and my sight was yet to return. I felt no pain, but I also felt no sense of being. I began to pray for those moments when the heavy voice would read to me and allow me to escape my own mind.

Then one day, the light in my eyes flickered on. Like my hearing, my vision trickled back slowly, first seeing lights, then colors, then finally making out tiles and shoes. I was lying on my stomach, my face planted in some kind of open support. I slowly began to match shoes with voices.

The day my toes and fingers started tingling with feeling again, a new pair of beige linen shoes stepped into my line of sight.

“I know that you can hear me and I am going to keep this brief.” The female’s voice was monotone, bordering on cold. “Your body has been kept in a state of suspended animation to allow for maximum regeneration. Soon, you should be regaining feeling in your extremities, if you’re not already. As a courtesy, you should know you are currently under armed guard. So I suggest remaining calm and peaceful when you completely awaken.”

The shoes disappeared from sight and my ears became keenly aware of two different sets of breath somewhere nearby.

My mind raced, looking for an answer as to where I was. For reasons unknown to me, my captors had not only prolonged my life, but saved it. I was not with the Ravagers, that was certain. There was a possibility I could be with the intellectual Adroits, but Tribes generally never cared about the lives outside of their own circles.

I thought of the young girl I had pushed to safety. She had reached the ledge, of that much I was sure. I could remember the feeling of her tiny legs wiggling upward from my grasp. Beyond that though, her fate was unknown to me.

I hoped the utter stupidity of my sacrifice hadn’t been for nothing.

In all honesty, I couldn’t say what made me go to her. Or what made me break all of my rules and stick my neck out for another human being. It was a stupid and self-destructive action. But there was no use in regretting it now. I chose my path, executed my actions and now there were consequences to be dealt with. Dwelling in the past would get me nowhere; instead I needed to focus on the situation at hand. Now that I wasn’t dead, surviving was once again the key game.

The curt woman had been right. Feeling slowly began to seep back into my body. As I cautiously flexed my tingling fingers, the sound of hands readjusting on triggers answered me. There was a beep and a voice nearby spoke.

“She’s moving.”

There was no response, no movement within the room, but the tension in the air was palpable. Moving with great care I lifted my hands holding my palms up as a sign of amenability. When no one shot, I placed them beneath my chest and pushed myself upwards just enough to raise my head.

I blinked at the room, finding it dingier than I had expected. The lights glowing above me gave off a familiar green hue. Instead of finding sterile white tile on the walls as I had expected, they were concrete. Large cabinets layered them, covering most of the space. There were no windows.

I swallowed.

One of the guards moved, catching my attention. He was wearing dull-colored clothing and looked nothing like any of the Tribesman I had ever seen. His blonde hair was long, pulled back in a ponytail. His hand reflexively tightened on his gun as I looked at him. He watched me warily, as if I would suddenly fly off the table and attack at any moment. Someone else in the room moved and I turned to see another soldier pushing back a tall, thin man with glasses. I was surprised when he glared at the guard.

“Don’t be foolish Doc.” The dark-haired soldier spat at the tall man.

“Don’t be such a brute and learn some compassion. She’s a human being, not a rabid animal.” With a force I was surprised such a lanky man could possess, he shouldered the guard out of the way. In his hands was a pile of clothing.

Looking down, I immediately lowered myself further on the table and pulled my arms around my bare chest.

The so-called doctor laid the clothing next to me and pulled up a sheet to shield my body from the guards. Just looking at the pile I knew the clothing would be too big, but that was the least of my problems. While hastily pulling on the faded grey shirt and black linen pants, I glared at the dark haired man with the gun.

His returning gaze made my skin crawl.

Once my body was covered, the doctor dropped the cloth and stepped back. He looked young, younger than I would have envisioned a doctor being. Fidgeting under my steady gaze, he removed his glasses, wiping them on his shirt as he cleared his throat.

“My n-name is Porters. I’m the resident doctor and have been tending to your injuries. If it is alright with you I would like to touch you to take your vitals.” His hands twisted nervously.

The black-haired guard’s finger pressed over his trigger, but he did not yet point the barrel at me. The blonde guard’s gaze flickered to his colleague, looking for guidance.

They were afraid of me.

I tried not to smile as the thought crossed my mind. Although I was unarmed and half their size, I sparked fear in these men. Even the leering guard in the corner showed a hint of fear behind his imperious eyes.

I nodded once at the man named Porters.

He moved slowly, touching his fingertips to my wrists, flashing a light in my eyes and feeling my neck and shoulder. I was careful to keep my eyes on his face, but my focus was actually on the dark-haired guard. His black eyes were focused intently on me.

Trusting your instincts in Tartarus could save your life and that man made my scalp prickle. He would prove to be an adversary. I could feel it in my bones.

Porters stepped away from me looking pleased. “Everything looks good. Your back has healed nicely, your heart rate is strong and your retinas have reattached perfectly.”

I nodded my head again, acknowledging the information. I remembered the hum as the heat-seeking gun charged, the fire as the bullet pierced my skin. Then there was an explosion. I couldn’t remember what had caused it though, just the blinding light and force as it blew me backwards.

Before he could utter another word the doors opened and a woman walked in flanked by two other armed men. She had stark white hair that was pulled back into a severe bun. The grey suit that loosely fitted her lean body only accented her pale features further. Her face was long and thin with a sharply pointed chin. Despite the color of her hair, her face was relatively un-aged. There were two faint lines at the corners of her eyes hinting at passed years, but I would have guessed she was probably in her forties. Close to what my own parents would now be if they were still alive. Her brilliant honey-toned eyes fell immediately upon me, but there was no look of maternal instinct or pity in them. I doubted this woman would prove to be an ally.

Her shoes caught my attention. They were the same beige pair I had seen not long ago. This was the cool-voiced woman. Confirming my observations, she began to speak.

“You are currently being held within the confines of my walls, against my better judgment. I will not waste my time on you, so you will answer my questions and you will be honest. If I believe you are deceiving me, I will have you shot on the spot. Do you understand?” Her tone was clipped.

I nodded, refusing to speak.

“Good.” Her eyes narrowed. “What is your name?”

I didn’t respond at first, narrowing my eyes. Immediately four guns pointed at my heart.

“Phoenix.” I said, my voice sounding surprisingly strong.

She raised her hand and the guns lowered in response.

“What Tribe are you from?” She scrutinized my every movement.

“I don’t claim allegiance to any Tribe.”

“Fine, then what Tribe were you
born
to?”

“I wasn’t
born
to any Tribe.” The thought disgusted me. “I was born in The Sanctuary.”

Her eyes tighten as she considered me.

“Take her to the cells.” And with those last words she disappeared back through the doors.

Fury flared within me. I had answered all her stupid questions and now she was throwing me in a cage? I hadn’t even gotten answers in return.

The sullen guard grabbed my arm and yanked me from the table. I stumbled against him, my legs weak from lack of use. Gathering myself, I pulled away, but his grip held tight. The cruel smile on his lips grew as he towered over me.

Porters laid a hand on him, his tone tense. “Go easy on her Maddox, she is not completely done healing yet.”

Maddox snarled at the doctor. “Mind your business Doc. You healed her enough, now it is time to do my job.”

I noticed how the doctor’s eyes flickered from mine to Maddox’s. Releasing the brute’s shoulder, he stepped back and squared himself, drawing himself up to full height.

“It is your job to guard, but it is mine to protect. If anything happens to my patient under your watch, it will be your head I will come for.” His face softened as he turned to me. “You need to drink a lot of fluids over the next few days. I will come and check on you
regularly
.” His eyes darted to Maddox’s on the last word.

The grip on my right arm eased slightly, but his pressure remained firm. Without another word to the doctor, Maddox dragged me from the room. The other guard appeared at my other shoulder as we moved through the door, but unlike his counterpart, he did not touch me.

They moved me at a quick pace, my usually agile feet stumbling to keep up. The walls here were also concrete, showing no sign of weakness or escape. Every twenty feet or so the tunnels would split off creating new paths, but the receding hallways all looked the same to me. Naturally, my eyes darted around for any possibility of evasion or improvised weapons, but the hall yielded nothing. The smooth walls were clean and seamless. Every hallway was empty as we moved. I saw not a single other person.

My chances of escape were growing thinner.

We turned left and arrived at a completely open doorway with a panel next to it. The ponytailed guard pressed his palm to it. When the responding beep sounded, I was thrown unceremoniously inside. Maddox laughed pitilessly as I fell, sliding across the hard floor.

“Sweet dreams.” He crooned winking at me.

It took every bit of self-control I had not to throw myself at him and begin clawing at his face.

The door beeped again and they left me unguarded. I stared at the open doorway shocked.

It couldn’t be this easy.

Climbing to my feet I moved towards the door. I could see clearly into the hallway.

It was empty.

Stretching out my hand, I reached towards the door, then jumped.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The voice came from the dark corner of the room. A boy about my age emerged from the shadows. He was thin, with jet-black hair that was cut closely to his head. Beneath his maroon shirt, tattoos covered his pale skin. I swallowed thickly as his brown eyes watched me.

He was a Taciturn.

Even had he not been wearing the color of his tribe—which he so obviously was— the tattoos were a dead giveaway. The Taciturns literally wore their pride on their skin. Their tattoos told of their past kills, personal triumphs or private vendettas. While the boy did not bear many markings, the ink was still prominent against his fair skin.