Wasteland (Flight) (11 page)

I sit at the fountain, tossing the bottle into the middle where it clangs against all the other old bottles. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been in such a difficult and life-altering place before. I laugh at myself. Who am I trying to fool? I know exactly why I’m here, and somehow I know he’ll be here too.

It isn’t long before he shows up, landing gracefully in front of me. The other Harpy’s words echo in my mind.
He said you were pretty
. Just the memory of it sends my chest fluttering.

“I knew you’d be here,” I call.

“And how’s that?” His lips turn up in a crooked grin as he joins me.

“I don’t know,” I admit, “something just told me.”

“It’s dangerous, what you’re doing,” he says, reading my mind.

“I’m too deep now to turn back. Everything about my life has changed since meeting you.”

He frowns slightly. “I’m sorry for that.”

I shake my head. “No, don’t be. I’m glad. It was like I was living with my eyes closed before. You’ve opened my eyes to a whole new world.”
Even if it’s going to be the death of me.

I turn to him, studying every curve of his face, every freckle. Then my gaze wanders to his wings. They really are magnificent. Pure ebony. “Can I touch them?”

“Sure,” he answers, “but it’ll cost you.”

I run my fingers along his feathers, surprised at how strong they are, like metal. Only when I bring my hand back do I notice how intently he’s staring at me.

“What?”

“I know this sounds stupid, but I can’t help it. You’re just so goddamn beautiful,” he whispers. I want to laugh. So the Prince is a cocky one.

“That’s not stupid at all,” I reply.

“Sure it is. You’re a Hunter, after all. Harpies shouldn’t think Hunters are pretty, or brave…”

“And Hunters shouldn’t think Harpies are charming, or intelligent—”

He silences me, leaning forward, placing his lips on mine. A moan of pleasure escapes my mouth as his wings wrap around me, creating a cocoon just for us. I push back into his kiss, running the tip of my tongue over his soft lips. He grabs me by the torso and pulls me closer to him with a husky grunt.

I reach my hands up, running them through his hair, enjoying every sigh that escapes him. Energy courses through me: desire, need. I grasp his hair as his hands explore my body, fingers dipping below my shirt. Goosebumps cover me as his skin touches mine.

This is so wrong
.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper. His hands travel up my body and his fingers clasp around my nipples, causing me to gasp loudly.

“Pierced,” he whispers with a grin. I respond my wrapping my legs around his waist, feeling him against me.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

In this moment, this is all I want. All I need.

Even if it’s wrong.

Even if it kills me.

When I emerge from the pool of water from the underground tunnel, I’m covered with slime and gross, sticky water. A guard pulls me out, pressing an oxygen mask to my mouth. I tear off the suit, and thankfully my clothes beneath are only damp, not soaked as I was expecting. Probably Shelley’s design.

After we clear another round of security, I’m led into a massive cave completely remodelled into a base. The walls are enforced, and a bright light dims the gloomy atmosphere.

“This is amazing,” I say. For the first time, Grier smiles at me.

“Thanks. We’ve been working on it for a long time.”

I’m amazed at all of the people in the room. Some are training, while others run experiments. Some grieve all in black in a corner where sticks are stacked neatly.

“Bones of the dead,” Shelley whispers to me.

But we walk past them, deeper into the cave. The last room is much smaller, but is filled with old books and mementos. Seated on a couch made of dead wood are two familiar faces. The first, a dynamic woman with gray hair piled on her head, nods her approval at the sight of me.

“Congratulations, Piper Madden. You are officially free,” Myra Elder says. Beside her sits the other head of the resistance; Gamma, my idol. She smiles gruffly.

I actually want to run over and hug them, but I don’t think that would go over well with either one of them. I bow my head with respect, and they stand, holding their fists together and bowing their heads.

“I’ll leave you here,” Grier says. She closes the door behind her.

And in that moment, that sudden silence, it all hits me. That I’ve been incarcerated, tortured, recued, and that I’m finally back with the women I might actually trust with my life. My eyes well with tears, and I sniffle, trying to quell the impending outburst.

“Kid, it’s not a sign of weakness to cry,” Gamma says. I nod, my lower lip quivering as tears stream down my face. I’ve been playing tough for so long, and I just don’t have the strength to keep it up any longer. I curl my body, my head to my knees, and let it all out.

David. Asher. War. I’m so goddamn helpless in all of this. I keep fighting and fighting and it just gets worse. What am I even fighting for anymore? When my sobs quieten, Myra comes toward me, placing her hand on my back. The warmth in her touch surprises me.

“You mustn’t give up hope, Miss Madden. It is because of you that all of this is happening.”

“Thanks,” I reply with a rough laugh.

“What she means is that you’ve made it possible for the resistance to gain ground. People are starting to realize that the world is not right, that we shouldn’t be living in fear. Soon they will realize that Rupert Elder uses fear to keep his people docile, to keep them paying him their tax dollars and giving him their labor. You are not responsible for war, you’re responsible for revolution,” Gamma clarifies.

“It’s too much. Too much to hold on my shoulders. I didn’t ask for this,” I say.

“But you want change. You believed in it before so many others. You’re a natural leader, Miss Madden. People trust you. They look up to you. We
needed
someone like you.”

I look up at the two of them, and the hope in their faces make me stronger. Even through my despair, I can’t give up.

“I need to tell you something. Something I found on the hard drives Sandy has,” I begin. “I think I’ve found evidence that Roger Elder created Harpies during his lab experiments, and that they escaped.”

Neither of them look surprised. Myra looks guilty, like she’s carrying the shame of her ancestor.

“You knew?”

“It’s all much more complicated than that, but yes, I have always known. That knowledge is passed through our family. When… my husband found out, he began researching, and ultimately sought out a rogue Harpy tribe. He believed we could bond together to take down the Corporation…” Myra trails off, her face blanching. She doesn’t need to say more. We all know what Rupert does to those who move against him.

“So what does this mean for us? I mean, we created our own enemy. I didn’t even know about the battle until I saw it for myself. How are we going to keep fighting those… things?” My foot wiggles as I say this, my mouth grimacing at the thought of those soldiers.

“Maybe you should rest before we go into battle plans—”

“Myra, grow up. Piper’s a Hunter. She deserves to be a part of this from the get-go,” Gamma interrupts. She leans forward as she faces me.

“Right now we’re fighting and recruiting. Grier is Commander, and she has been doing a great job keeping our team strong. She has been teaching the Temple fighting technique, along with some moves I suspect she learned from you. She has become hard, but a Commander needs to be.

“Sandy and Dodge have been heading up research and development. Dodge recruits Harpies, and Sandy has been dispersing the vaccine against Hunter blood. It isn’t perfect. It wear off over time, but it’s keeping our Harpies alive.

“Shelley’s in charge of propaganda and armor. She has created a number of campaigns exposing the Corp’s ways to the cities. We haven’t brought out the big guns, yet. It’s not time.

“As for the soldiers, well, they’re basically drones. They’re mindless, attuned only for fighting. They’re strong, and have regenerative powers, but we’ve been slowly beating them down. There cannot be an unlimited supply.”

It’s overwhelming all that has happened while I’ve been gone. But I’m also filled with so much pride. Grier is finally in her element. Shelley is using her talents in such an amazing way. But there is still one thing.

“So where do I fit in?”

Myra and Gamma glance at each other.

“We need you to find Asher,” Gamma says finally.
Thump
.

“What do you mean, find Asher?”

Myra sighs. “After you were taken away, we managed to get Asher out of Ehvelar, but he grew increasingly sick. I’m still not sure what my brother’s plan was in just separating you two, but he must have something still up his sleeve.

“Asher began experiencing… side effects from what his father did to him. He started shifting between being ill and… well, we don’t know. He took off a few weeks ago, and no one has seen him since.”

Her words hit me like a sack of bricks. I knew that eventually Asher would be affected by the immense power sealed within his scar, but I never imagined it would kick in so soon.

I thought we had more time.

“I’ve seen him. I know he’s out there,” I say. But I have no idea where he is now.

“Okay. Whatever you need, just let us know. Our people are at your disposal,” Myra says. I nod. It’s time for me to get back into action.

“And Piper,” Gamma calls as I get up to leave, “We’re really glad to have you back, Kid.”

“It’s so colorful,” Essa whispers into my ear. Even I’m overcome by the sight before us. Hidden in a tiny safe-building, our only view of the Harpy City in front of us is through a mostly shuttered window. Even still, it’s jaw-dropping.

Banners of every shape and color wave through the streets, and the buildings—old and pre-war houses—have been painted bright reds and blues. The Harpies are even more colorful. Their wings are gray, tawny, red, blond, and their outfits are loose and bright. Beads and braids stem from their hair, and most of them carry content smiles on their faces.

Without the wings, this could be paradise.

“We need to keep quiet,” David warns. He and Rassler sit in the small parlour, playing with a dusty set of cards. The plan is to wait until the end of the midday market rush, where fresh meat is sold every few days. Our informant has conveniently left his lodgings for the day, leaving the house to us.

Essa and I step away from the window. I’m not in the mood to argue right now. After the other night, David and I have had a silent war. I even went to Tor’s to hang out for the day, though every moment I thought of Asher, guilt swept through me.

I haven’t been honest with Tor at all lately. This mission has consumed me. I can still see the dejected look in Tor’s eyes when I left him this morning, like nothing was okay. Like somehow he knew.

“How long does this damn market last anyway?” Rassler mutters. He throws his cards on the table, spitting to his right as David reveals a stronger hand.

“Sundown,” I say, slinging myself over a dusty armchair. The soft pink light is already starting to shine in through the shutter cracks. Tension fills the room. None of us say it, but I know deep down we’re all hoping we make it out of this night alive.

“And then the feast begins,” David says.

One of the biggest feasts of the year. A night of blood and meat, of carnal desire. We all wear special gear to make us smell like Harpies, but I’m pretty sure the lack of wings and bloodlust will give us away in no time. That’s why it’s important that we do this quickly, in and out. The less attention we can draw while here, the better.

We wait for sundown. David and Rassler play cards, while Essa stretches her muscles. I just breathe. Soon enough the sky runs dark. It’s time.

“We stick to the plan, no matter what. Piper and Essa, you capture the Harpies and tranq them. We’ll set up the rig and then when you bring them over, we spike them, administer the formula, and get the hell of out here,” David orders.

Before we leave the safehouse, he grabs my hand and pulls me into an embrace.

“Don’t die on me, Pie. You’re all I’ve got,” he whispers. I squeeze him tightly, hoping upon hoping this won’t be the last time.

Essa and I leave first. We figured it would be easiest to nab solitary females, hopefully some that didn’t partake in the feat and remained on the outskirts of town. According to our moles, there’s a Red Light district not far from the safehouse. This is our best bet.

We jog through the back streets, trying to stay in the shadows. I never thought before that dressing in black would make me look
more
conspicuous, but among all of this color, we stand out like two black sore thumbs.

We hide behind a corner as we reach the district. Sure enough, there are two females standing outside, chatting. No one watches over them, but then again, female Harpies are just a strong as males.

The street is too big for my liking. Anyone could walk by at any minute.

“How should we proceed?” I wonder aloud, but Essa beats me to it. She fires two silent shots filled with an extremely potent tranquilizer, landing both shots right in the Harpies’ necks.

“That works,” I say. We lift them up before they’re noticed. Essa grins wickedly.

“This one’s cute,” she says, gesturing to the silver-winged Harpy in her arms. I roll my eyes.

“Stop being a perv. We need to get them out of here, now.”

She nods, but I catch her rubbing her thumb along the Harpy’s smooth skin. I guess there are pigs in every gender.

Dragging two dead-weights isn’t as easy as we’d planned. The Harpies are freaking heavy, and we need to stay beside each other so that if anyone comes along, they’ll see the wings, and hopefully ignore us.

When we reach our rendezvous point, David and Rassler are nowhere to be seen. Essa glances at me, a hunt of fear in her eyes.

“They should have been here by now,” she whispers. She’s right. Where the hell are they?