That’s when Caleb noticed the freezer. Towards the back of the bar, near where the explosion had been, was a heavy steel door. A trio of menacing bikers in gas masks were taking turns whacking the door with axes, trying to break in.
Just then, one of the newly armed Harvesters came around the corner from the front of the bar, heading for the back. He spotted Caleb’s duplicate and, without hesitation, shot him in the head.
Caleb gasped. “She’s locked in a freezer,” he announced breathlessly. He pointed towards the singed back entrance. “Right in there.”
“You’re sure?” Ran asked.
“Has to be,” he said. “The Harvesters are trying to hack their way in.”
“I’ll get her,” Kopano said, cracking his knuckles. “Their bullets cannot hurt me.”
“I’m going with you,” Ran replied.
Nigel put a hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “You going to be okay back here, mate?”
Caleb nodded. In truth, he was beginning to feel ragged, like his body was sliding apart. All the same, he pushed another clone into existence and sent him towards the fray. “I’ll keep the decoys coming as long . . . as long as I can,” he said.
Nigel nodded and turned to Kopano. “Big man, let me and Ran create a wee distraction before you go all juggernaut on ’em, yeah?”
The three of them started forward, sticking close to the shadows and the trees to avoid any stray bullets. At the moment, the Harvesters were too preoccupied with the remaining clones to notice their approach. Caleb kept his most recent duplicate with his three classmates, wanting to make sure he could see and hear what happened with them.
One of the Harvesters had dropped a lit torch in the grass. It was still burning. Ran or Nigel—he couldn’t be sure who—used their telekinesis to pick up the torch and float it right to the effigy.
The gas-soaked wooden snake sculpture went up in flames with a mighty whoosh! Even back in the woods, Caleb could feel the heat. That Harvesters stopped their shooting for a moment, confused by this latest development.
Confusion turned to outright terror as the burning snake effigy levitated right off the ground. It must have taken Kopano, Ran and Nigel working together to accomplish the telekinetic feat, but soon the snake hovered over Apache Jack’s deck, fireflies of burning wood drifting down on the Harvesters. A few of them pointlessly shot at the effigy.
“YOUR BULLETS CANNOT HARM ME, MORTALS!”
The booming voice erupted from the vicinity of the snake. It was Nigel, using his Legacy to throw his voice and make it as loud as possible. Desperate as the situation was, Caleb couldn’t help but smirk.
“YOU WANKERS HAVE TAKEN MY NAME IN VAIN TOO MANY TIMES!” the flaming snake bellowed. “NOW I’M GOING TO BELLY FLOP YOUR DAFT ASSES!”
Many of the Harvesters on the deck had already begun to scatter and the rest soon followed as the burning effigy crashed down on the back of Apache Jack’s. Embers flew up into the air, burning wood breaking apart, small fires starting everywhere. The Harvesters dove aside, many winding up in the dirt, where Caleb’s remaining clones could charge in and disarm them.
The Harvesters who managed to stay standing soon found glowing pinecones at their feet. The concussive explosions knocked them backwards.
Suddenly, there was a lull in the action and a clear path into Apache Jack’s—well, clear except for all the smoke and burning chunks of wood.
Kopano barreled into that gap, knocking aside debris with his telekinesis. Nigel and Ran came in behind him, with Caleb’s clone bringing up the rear. They kept low to avoid the smoke that was now everywhere. The heat from small fires made them all—except the clone—immediately begin sweating.
The trio of Harvesters in their gas masks had stopped trying to hack into the freezer and now stood at the ready. They saw Kopano and one of them charged. His axe clanged against Kopano’s forearm and the Nigerian took him down with a well-placed right hook. A glowing pinecone exploded against the chest of a second Harvester, sending him and his axe tumbling over a nearby table. Nigel used his telekinesis to turn the gas mask around on the third. While the man yanked the mask’s straps away from his eyes, Kopano put him down with a push kick to the sternum.
“Easy-peasy,” Nigel remarked, glancing back at the clone. He banged on the severely dented freezer door. “Oi, Isabela! You in there?”
They heard a grinding sound on the other side of the door—something being pried loose. A moment later, the freezer swung open. Isabela stood hunched before them, her face blackened with ash, her side dark with blood. She said something in Portuguese.
“Huh?” Nigel replied.
Isabela groaned. She held up the bracelet that Simon had charged for her, waved it in Nigel’s face and tossed it away.
“Her English is gone,” Ran observed.
“Bloody great timing, that,” Nigel said sarcastically.
Ran put her hand on Isabela’s shoulder, peering at what looked like a gunshot wound on her side. “How bad are you hurt?”
Isabela glanced down, then tilted her hand back and forth, as if to say so-so. She pointed behind her, speaking rapidly in Portuguese.
Crumpled on the floor of the freezer was the girl from the road. She’d been beaten badly, but was conscious. A piece of metal ceiling that looked to have been recently ripped loose was attached to her wrists, stuck there by a pair of those magnetized shackles the Peacekeepers had used. She struggled to sit up.
Nigel and Ran went to the girl. Caleb kept his clone in the doorway, holding up Isabela. Kopano stood guard outside, watching for Harvesters.
“My, my, love. They did a number on you,” Nigel observed as he grabbed the girl’s arm and, with Ran’s help, pulled her to her feet. “What’s your name?”
“Rabiya,” the girl croaked. A trickle of blood dribbled down her chin.
As they dragged her out of the freezer and into the smoke-filled remains of Apache Jack’s, Nigel noticed the odd triangular microchips affixed to Rabiya’s temples. “What’re those?” he asked, tweaking one of them.
Rabiya pulled her hands up to touch the microchips and nearly struck herself in the face with the ceiling plate. “They . . . neurotransmitters. They scramble my telekinesis.”
Nigel raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with Ran. “Bet you’d like us to take those off, eh?”
“Yes.”
“You know who we are, then?”
She nodded forlornly.
“You took our friend,” Nigel continued. “About got us killed. But here we are, coming to your bloody rescue.”
“Thank . . . thank you,” Rabiya said.
“Don’t thank me yet. You can make Loralite, yeah? That’s your thing?” He paused to let Rabiya nod. “You know where that smartly dressed chum of yours took Taylor? You can bring us there?”
Rabiya’s mouth opened as she searched for words. “They are dangerous people.”
As they picked their way across the burning debris of Apache Jack’s back deck, a Harvester with a knife lunged at them. Kopano slapped the blade down with an open hand, then knocked the Harvester off his feet with an uppercut.
“We are dangerous people,” Ran said coldly.
Rabiya glanced at Ran, her expression slowly hardening. “He was . . . they were supposed to be my friends,” Rabiya said quietly. “Instead, they left me to die. We were supposed to take your friend to a safe house in Iceland. I can bring you there. But you have to free my hands.”
Nigel looked at Ran. The Japanese girl shook her head stoically. She let go of one of Rabiya’s arms and the girl almost sank to the ruined deck.
“I don’t believe her,” Ran said. “Leave her here. Let these animals finish her off.”
Even through the clone’s ears, Caleb could tell that Ran was bluffing. It was a classic case of good-cop-bad-cop. He had the clone glance down at Isabela, who he was still holding up. If she could understand English, Caleb was sure the Brazilian would appreciate this bit of subterfuge.
Ra
biya bought it. “Please!” she yelled, her voice hoarse. “I never even wanted to join the Foundation! They forced me—they—!”
Ran grabbed Rabiya by the manacles. “This is going to hurt,” she warned.
With a touch, Ran charged the manacles securing Rabiya’s wrists. She didn’t put as much energy into the metal as she normally did when making a grenade, but the high-tech restraints still exploded with enough force to throw Rabiya onto her back. She sat back up, rubbing wrists that were already swelling up.
“I think you broke my hand,” she said quietly.
“Too bad you stole our healer,” Nigel replied as he helped her to her feet.
Rabiya reached up to pick the microchips off her temples. Nigel slapped her hands down. “Nuh-uh. No telekinesis until you prove you’re on the up-and-up.”
She didn’t argue, instead gesturing into grass beside the smoky deck. “Over there. The Loralite only grows from the ground.”
At that moment, a gunshot rang out from inside the bar. The bullet bounced off Kopano, who returned fire by telekinetically lobbing a pair of chairs into the hallway behind them. The Harvesters were beginning to regroup. They’d fled to the front of the bar when the effigy came crashing down, but they were still armed and stupid. They’d strike again soon.
Kopano nervously rubbed the spot on his shoulder where the bullet had hit him. “Let’s go!”
Caleb quickly switched views to one of his duplicates that was posted up around the side of the bar. He could see the Harvesters massing out front, steeling themselves for another attack.
“Quickly, quickly,” his clone said, helping Isabela down from the deck. Nigel and Ran followed with Rabiya sandwiched in between them. Kopano came last, using his telekinesis to barricade the back door with furniture and debris.
Just then, an icy feeling came over Caleb.
It wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant feeling. It was like a numbness, spreading through his legs. At first, he thought it was a sensation that he’d picked up from one of the clones. But no—this was happening to his actual body.
Something was wrong.
Caleb attempted a lurching step forward and fell onto his hands. His legs were heavy.
They were stone. Literally.
With a groan, Caleb rolled over. He sensed movement in the trees behind him and a glint of silver-tinged energy.
“Oh, what up, Caleb?”
Daniela.
He hadn’t seen the girl for more than a year, not since she was sent directly to Earth Garde instead of the Academy. Daniela looked much the same except for her gear—she wore an armor-plated black bodysuit that hugged her lean sprinter’s body, and her usually unruly braids were collected into a thick ponytail. She stood over Caleb, a team of Peacekeepers with night-vision goggles picking through the woods behind her.
“How—how’d you find us?” Caleb stammered.
“We didn’t find you, we found them,” Daniela replied conversationally, waving in the direction of Apache Jack’s and the Harvesters. “Everyone’s looking for you guys, glad you’re in one piece. The others okay?”
Caleb didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked through his clone’s eyes, stopping the duplicate in his tracks as his friends dragged Rabiya across the field towards the woods.
“Stop!” he had the clone yell. “Earth Garde’s here! They’ve got me.”
In the distance, the whup-whup-whup of helicopters became audible.
“Hell,” Nigel said. He elbowed Rabiya. “Hurry up. Make the Loralite now.”
Rabiya glanced nervously over her shoulder, worried the Harvesters might be on them at any moment. “Here—?”
Daniela shook Caleb’s shoulder and he focused back on her. She’d crouched down beside him as the Peacekeeper soldiers continued on towards Apache Jack’s.
“Hey, man, where’d you go?”
“Why’d you stone me?” Caleb replied. “I can help.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” she replied. “Earth Garde’s running this operation and you aren’t authorized for combat. Can’t let you get hurt.” She touched a radio mounted on her shoulder and spoke into it. “I’ve got Caleb Crane down here . . .” She listened to a response, then smirked at Caleb. “Oh man, Professor Meathead isn’t happy.”
“Nine? Nine’s here?”
The helicopters came into view. Three of them, all circling. Their spotlights swept across the wooded hillside around Apache Jack’s.
Caleb checked in with his duplicate hiding at the front of the bar. Many of the Harvesters were bailing, scrambling for motorcycles and trucks and tearing down the road. Some of them took potshots up at the helicopters. They were quickly cut down by sniper fire.
“Harvesters retreating, Earth Garde closing in,” Caleb reported through his clone.
A funnel of cobalt-blue energy rippled out from Rabiya’s outstretched palms and struck the ground. With a groan from the earth, a craggy pile of Loralite slowly began to rise up.
The blue light caught the attention of one of the helicopter pilots. They swung the spotlight around, illuminating the group of Garde, and soon the chopper was almost right overhead.
“How much do you need to make?” Kopano asked Rabiya.
“Almost . . . ,” she said tiredly. “Almost there.”
“Que porra é essa?” Isabela said, pointing up at the helicopter.
Something had fallen out of the chopper’s open bay door.
THOOM! Nine hit the ground with an explosion of dirt and broken bits of wood. He landed right in front of his students. All their eyes widened at the shallow crater he made and Rabiya yelped, cutting off her creation of the Loralite stone. Nine smirked as he straightened up.
“It’s way after curfew, guys.”
Nigel was the first to recover his wits. “Fancy meeting you here, teach.”
Nine gave them the once-over, checking for injuries. Perhaps satisfied none of them were gravely wounded, he put his hands on his hips. His eyes widened a fraction when he noticed Rabiya and the steady pile of glowing stone at her feet.
“That’s Loralite,” Nine said, and they could all tell their professor’s mind was working. “We found some at the spot where you guys were ambushed, been trying to figure out where . . .” He took a step towards Rabiya. “What’s your name? Where’d you come from?”
Ran put herself between Nine and Rabiya. He stopped short, an eyebrow raised.
“Keep going,” Ran said to Rabiya over her shoulder.
“We’re going to find Taylor,” Kopano told Nine.
“No, we’re going to find Taylor,” Nine insisted, gesturing around at the Peacekeepers and Earth Garde. There were sounds of a small firefight from in front of Apache Jack’s. Meanwhile, Daniela led stone-booted Caleb out of the woods, her team of Peacekeepers fanning out. Caleb and his clone exchanged a look.
“Been doing a bang-up job of that, haven’t ya?” Nigel asked.
Nine raised an eyebrow. “We found you, didn’t we?”
“You stumbled onto us,” Caleb had his clone say.
Nine waved this away. “Same difference.”
“We know where she is,” Kopano said. “She’s in Iceland. We’re going to get her.”
“No. You’re not.”
Nine took another step forward. Or, at least, he attempted to. As one, Nigel, Ran and Kopano extended their hands, gently pushing Nine back with their telekinesis. Isabela, still holding her wounded side with one hand, joined them a second later.
“Oh, give me a break with this shit,” Nine said. He dug his heels in and powered forward. Caleb watched with a growing tightness in his chest. Nine was strong. He could probably break their telekinesis if he wanted to.
“Stop, Professor,” Kopano appealed. “We’ll bring Taylor back. I promise.”
“Like your lot never ran off half-cocked to save someone’s life,” Nigel added.
“I can’t let you go,” Nine replied, the words sounding hollow. “What you’re doing isn’t safe. I’m su
re it’s in violation of one of those stupid Garde bylaws, too.”
“Nowhere is safe for us,” Ran said. “That was proven at Patience Creek.”
“That was during the war,” Nine replied. “It’s different now.”
“Doesn’t feel so bloody different,” Nigel said. He glanced in the direction of the approaching Peacekeepers, noting that some of them were armed with the nonlethal weaponry that had been used during the Wargames. “You want to tell us how these wackjob Harvesters got hooked into the same weapons as your mates in the army?”
“I don’t know,” Nine replied. “We’re looking into that.”
“Yeah. Right. So, you keep doing that, behind your desk,” Nigel replied. “We’ll handle the hero shit.”
Nine sneered and started to say something more, but Ran cut him off.
“You knew,” she said suddenly, as if the fact had just dawned on her. “That night on the beach. You were warning me. Telling me to keep an eye on Taylor. You knew someone might be after her.”
“I . . .” Nine glanced up at the helicopter circling above. “There’s a lot going on you guys don’t know about.”
Rabiya took a breath and sagged against Nigel. The Loralite stone was done, the blue stone reflecting the small fires still burning at the bar.
“Mate, you can fill us in when we get back,” Nigel said. “Who do you trust to go get Taylor? Us or these Earth Garde blokes?”
Nine sighed. Through his clone’s eyes, Caleb saw something like nostalgia on the Loric’s face. He was relenting.
Caleb tried to drag his feet, which wasn’t difficult considering they were encased in stone. He wanted to slow up Daniela and the Peacekeepers, give the others a chance to convince Nine and escape.
“We’ll come back,” Kopano said solemnly, reading the hesitation in Nine’s face. “We’ll be safe.”
“Yeah,” Nigel added. “Just gonna pop on over to Iceland for a bit. No biggie. Things get hinky, you come pick us up.”