Ultraxenopia (Project W. A. R. Book 1) (18 page)

My entire body immediately
tenses.

From the moment he said
that name, I knew something wasn’t right.

Wren Bilken. I’ve only met
him once before, but once was enough. He was the person who conducted my work
placement interview and ultimately decided which sector I was projected to
enter. He oversees all of the education leading up to the exam from the moment
we’re old enough to enter school.

I only saw him one other
time—on the screen, wishing us luck at the beginning of my exam.

The coincidence of it all
seems too unlikely. Besides, why would he, of all people,
want
to help
PHOENIX? How could he possibly benefit from the State losing power? It’s also
somewhat suspicious that they would receive this transmission only
after
I came here. Either something isn’t right, or it really is just remarkable
timing.

No,
I tell myself.
It’s
not.

“It’s a trap,” I whisper.
My eyes lock on Ezra, hoping he’ll hear the urgency in my voice and realize
they must not believe this transmission, no matter what it says.

He settles back into his
chair. “Probably,” he admits.

He says it so casually that
I’m not sure he understands what I’m trying to tell him. I’m not
guessing
that it’s a trap.

I know it is.

“You don’t understand,” I
stammer. “I
know
Wren Bilken. Trust me, he isn't someone who will turn
against the State!”

Ezra continues to seem
unfazed by my words. The frustration running through me is like an itch I can’t
scratch. If my body wasn’t so weak, I would jump out of this bed and shake him
until he grasps what I’m saying.

“What choice do I have?” he
finally asks me.

For the first time since
waking up, I see the exhaustion in his face. I see the desperation in his eyes.

“The people here expect
action, and to be honest, we can’t afford the possibility that it’s not a
genuine offer. We’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time.
That transmission . . . well, it could be that opportunity. This could be the
very thing we’ve been hoping for.”

“But you could die,” I
breathe.

I stare at him, amazed by
his stupidity and the remarkable lengths he’s willing to go to. He knows that,
more likely than not, this transmission is a trap. Still he’s prepared to go—to
take the chance that it won’t be. He’ll risk everything, including his life,
for the possibility of a better future.

Not only for him, but for
everyone here.

“Good thing it’s a cause
worth dying for,” he murmurs.

Our eyes meet, and I know
that nothing I say will change his mind. He’s going. With or without my
blessing.

In a halfhearted breath, I
ask, “When are you leaving?”

“I delayed it for as long
as I could,” he answers. “I wanted to see if you’d wake up first.” When he sees
my expression, he adds, “I couldn’t just leave things like that. Especially if
I might not come back.”

My eyes widen. Despite our
mutual understanding of the situation, it’s only now that I realize he doesn’t
expect
to come back. He’s prepared for the reality that he’ll either die or be
imprisoned as a result of this mission.

The thought leaves a sour
taste in my mouth. I don’t want him to die. I don’t want
anyone
here to
die.

My thoughts revert to my
dream from before, reminding me of the scenario that potentially awaits us in
the future. How can that possibly happen if he dies?

Does that mean it wasn’t
real?

Does that mean it never
will be?

“We leave once we’re fully
prepared,” he says. “Two days, more or less.”

I nod in silence, but on
the inside, I’m screaming.

“How will you get wherever
it is you need to go?” I mumble.

“The compound is linked to
a series of underground tunnels that have exit points throughout the city,” he
explains. “It’s the safest way for us to travel without being seen.”

For a few moments, I do
nothing but stare at him, lost in my own jumbled thoughts and emotions. Then an
idea strikes me as suddenly as those lightning-like bolts at the DSD.

“I want to go with you,” I
mutter quickly.

Ezra reels back, stunned by
my request.

“I don’t think that’s a
good idea—”

“I can be useful,” I
insist, cutting him off. “You know I can.”

He doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he gives me a single questioning look, almost as if he doubts I’ll be
any help in my current state.

“I’ll be ready,” I assure
him.

I pause for a moment,
remembering what he said before.

“I’d be lying if I said I
wasn’t tempted to use your . . . ability . . . to our advantage.”

To be honest, I never
considered the idea of actually trying to use my power. Whenever the visions
came, they were always abrupt, unexpected, and most of all unwanted. But what
if I could control it?

What if I could use it to
help
PHOENIX?

“Besides,” I add. “You’ll
need a lookout if it does turn out to be a trap.”

I peek up at him, and I’m
surprised to see that, out of all the possible human expressions, he’s smiling.

“You’re nearly as stubborn
as I am,” he comments.

I stare at him blankly, not
expecting it to be that easy. It doesn’t help that, despite his smile, I can
sense something ominous hiding behind it. There’s something he’s not telling
me. Something he doesn’t
want
me to know.

I choose to ignore it for
the time being. Instead, I bathe in this small victory because, when all is
said and done, I’ve gotten my way.

I
will
go with them,
wherever this transmission leads us.

I PRESS MY BODY AGAINST the wall,
trying my best to stay out of everyone’s way. They all seem to know exactly
what we’ll need, whereas I’m at a complete loss.

My eyes scan over the
shelves of supplies, but so far, I’ve only managed to fill my pack with water
and food. After all, what do
I
know about weapons? Even if I held one, I
wouldn’t know how to use it.

I glance at Ezra as he
loads ammunition into a gun, and I wince at the sharp sound it makes when he
cocks the slide. I follow his hands, every few seconds peeking up at his face.
My cheeks redden when he looks at me out of the corner of his eye.

For a long moment, he simply
stands there, staring back at me. However, I get the distinct impression he’s
considering something. I shift my weight from foot to foot, debating whether to
speak.

My lips part, but my lungs
release nothing but air. My thought process is crippled altogether when he
suddenly walks over and offers me the gun.

My eyes widen as I peer
down at his outstretched hand.

“You’ll need it,” he says.

I glance up at him
uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

“I trust you,” he murmurs.
He smiles as if to solidify that statement.

Reluctantly, I hold out my
hand, wrapping my fingers around the cold metal handle. It’s heavier than I
thought it would be, and that only makes me feel more uneasy—especially when I
think about having to use it.

My stomach turns when I
lift my eyes. The others are all preparing their weapons, and I can’t help but
wonder if it’s really necessary for me to have this. They all have experience
with guns while I, on the other hand, don’t have a clue what I’m doing.
Although, I suppose when it comes down to it, the fact that they’re entrusting
me with this tells me something about our mission.

They’re acting on the
likelihood it’ll turn out to be a trap.

But if they feel that way,
then why go at all? Is it really worth the risk?

A warm weight slings itself
across my shoulders, and I look up to see Jenner standing beside me. He gives
me an awkward hug with the arm draped around my neck, winking at me as he does.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take
care of you,” he whispers in my ear. “But if you like, I can give you some one-on-one
shooting lessons.”

I raise an eyebrow as he
takes a step back. His eyes scan the room, presumably searching for a suitable
practice target. After a moment, he reaches for his gun, and an unnerving smile
twists his lips.

“All you have to do is
point . . .”

Time seems to slow as I
follow his gaze, and my heart nearly stops when I see where he’s aiming.

“And squeeze the trigger,”
he purrs. “Bang!”

I jump, startled by his
outburst. Ezra only seems annoyed. He extends his hand and lowers the barrel of
Jenner’s gun, pushing it away from his chest.

“Stop messing around,” he
snaps.

Jenner straightens up and
lifts his arm into a mocking salute. “Aye aye, captain!” he shouts.

I watch him curiously,
amazed by the unsettling nature of his joke. This sort of light-hearted
behavior seems out of place, considering the circumstances and the situation
we’re about to find ourselves in.

It really hits me now what
we’re potentially walking into. How many of us will make it out of this, if
any?

My thoughts are interrupted
by a movement to my right, and I turn to see Rai approaching us, swinging the
strap of her pack across her chest.

“Is everyone nearly ready?”
she asks.

“As ready as we’ll ever
be,” Ezra answers. His eyes fix on mine. “Are you ready?”

I try to swallow, but a
hard lump has risen in my throat, choking me into silence. I nod once, hoping
that my face isn’t showing how I feel on the inside. Honestly, I’m frightened.
For the people who have agreed to go on this mission and for those staying
behind.

What will happen to them if
we don’t come back?

I follow the others through
the compound. We traverse countless corridors until we enter an area I wasn’t
shown during my tour.

This part of the base seems
unused, and for good reason. This is the location of the entrance to the
tunnels. If they were ever overrun, this is also more than likely the entry
point an enemy would use. Saying that, I can’t help but wonder if the people
here have a backup exit—someplace they could escape through if that were to
ever happen.

We find ourselves in a
small room that appears, at first glance, to be a dead end. I linger behind the
others when they stop in front of me, once again doing my best to stay out of
everyone’s way. Rai hangs back as well while the others congregate around the far
wall. After a few moments, curiosity gets the best of me, and I peer over their
shoulders to see the hatch door standing before us.

This is it,
I tell myself.

The first leg of our
journey starts here.

I stand back with Rai while
the others surround the door. Accompanying us are three men whose names I can’t
remember. I think one of them—the one attempting to open the hatch—is known as
Duke. He’s a bulky individual, and it’s obvious his physical strength is why he
was tagged for this mission. His muscles bulge as he turns the metal wheel
attached to the front of the door, the veins within his arms nearly ready to
burst. His jaw tenses as his teeth audibly grind together.

A few seconds later, a
horrible metal screeching pierces through the silence. It continues for a long
unbearable minute, until, with one final pull, the entrance opens.

One by one, we enter the
adjoining tunnel. The ground is covered with a thin layer of water, and the air
smells stale—unpleasantly so.

Beams of light illuminate
the darkness as the others click on their flashlights. I reach into my pack,
hurriedly doing the same.

Ezra stands with Rai,
shining his light over a small, black device in her hands. It looks familiar
for some reason. As her fingers fiddle with the buttons, causing a hologram to
appear in the air above it, I realize where I remember it from. It brings me
back to my time at the DSD.

A time I’d rather forget.

Ezra moves his light, and
we all gather around to look at the glowing map of the tunnel system. It’s so
intricate and complex that it would take me weeks to figure out. Rai, however,
seems to understand it almost at once.

She presses one of the
buttons again and stores the device back inside her pack, replacing it with her
flashlight. She directs the beam down the length of the tunnel on her left.

“It’s this way,” she says.

We all follow her lead,
walking for what feels like hours through the waterlogged passage. The only
sound to be heard is that of our wet footsteps, the echo of which follows
behind us like a stranger in the shadows. I find myself glancing behind me
several times—not because I’m afraid that there’s someone else there, but
because every step brings us farther away from the safety of the compound.

I might not have been there
long, but it certainly felt safer than where we are now. And especially more so
than where we’re heading.

My heart races, and I can
hear my ragged breaths breaking through the dank silence around me. I find
myself thinking of the transmission again, urging my brain to give me an indication
of what’s going to happen.

To Ezra.

To Rai.

To Jenner.

To
me
.

I suppose, in truth, my
greatest fear isn’t that I’ll be killed, but that I’ll be returned to the very
people I’ve been running from this whole time.

My greatest fear is that
I’ll end up back at the DSD.

I press on, lost in the
dreary nature of my thoughts. I’m so consumed by them that I don’t even notice
when Ezra appears beside me.

“Are you nervous?” he asks.

I look up at him, taking
notice of the unusual concern glowing in his eyes.

“Whatever happens, I’ll
look out for you,” he whispers. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Why?” I ask bluntly, my
tone sharper than I intend it. “Not that long ago, you were ready to kill me
yourself.”

He reels back as if I’ve
slapped him, and his lips pull down into a disturbed sort of grimace. His eyes
drop from mine, but he doesn’t answer.

An awkward hush arises
between us. He says nothing more and I can’t help but feel guilty about my
insensitive remark. After all, Ezra means well. He’s trying to make up for his
past actions toward me as well as for those of his demented brother. The
possibility doesn’t escape me that he probably also feels responsible for my
well-being because of my condition and the link it holds to his deceased
mother.

I peek over at him, an
apology lingering on my tongue. However, as soon as I set eyes on him, I’m
bombarded with images from the dream I had before. I practically feel his lips
against mine as the scene replays in my memory, just like I hear those simple
words and his voice begging me to stay.

Stay with
him
.

An extreme embarrassment
rushes through me, despite the fact that I have my doubts as to how that vision
will ever happen. It’s a complete one-eighty from the relationship we have now.
So surely, it’s impossible.

Unless it wasn’t actually a
vision.

Unless it has just been a
dream all along.

We continue our trek in
silence, with no one in the group uttering a single word. It’s as if we’ve
fallen into a repetitive and unchanging rhythm, and it’s only when we reach a
crossroads that the pattern is interrupted.

Rai stops short and pulls
out the device to check the map. The hologram once again comes to life,
throwing light across a small section of the tunnel surrounding us.

“Where do we go next?” Ezra
asks. He walks over to her and looks down at the glowing image.

“Based on the information
from the transmission, we’re roughly seven kilometers away from our
destination.” She hesitates, distracted for a moment as she traces her finger
along the map. She then raises her flashlight, shining it down the path to our
right. “That’s the way we need to go.”

Ezra claps his hands
together to grab everyone’s attention. “We’ll take a quick ten-minute rest and
then carry on.”

From the murmurings around
me, I gather that we’ll reach where we’re heading roughly around midnight.
Taking advantage of our last chance at peace before facing the very real
possibility of death, we all drop our packs to the ground, making sure to sit
on the sloped edges of the floor to avoid the water.

I position myself on the
opposite side of everyone else, feeling even more apprehensive about what we’re
walking into. On top of that, I doubt my own ability as well as what I can
possibly do to help them once we get there. Will I actually be useful like I
promised I’d be? Or will I just be dead weight—a liability they’ll soon realize
they should’ve just left behind?

A part of me, a very large
part, fears it’ll be the latter.

A hand suddenly appears in
front of my face, holding a bottle of water. I look up to see Jenner standing
over me, smiling like usual.

“May I?” he asks, nodding
to the ground beside me.

I nod and shift to make
room, despite the existing abundance of space. Avoiding his gaze, I sip on the
water as he sets himself down.

We all sit in silence, the
only apparent sound being that of the water flowing into our throats. After a
short while, I notice incomprehensible mumblings coming from the other side of
the narrow tunnel.

My eyes land on the
slightly older man sitting across from me, and I strain my ears to hear what
he’s saying. I notice beads of sweat glistening along his upper lip. His mouth
twitches as he repeats the same words to himself over and over again.

“We will not die,” he
murmurs. “We will be reborn among the ashes and overcome any adversary who stands
against us. We will endure. We will survive. We will not die . . . .”