Invisible explosives. Tracking devices. There was a world around me that I'd never known existed. Until today, I hadn't cared.
Several more agents appeared at the end of the hall, but Erik quickly fired the pyre-gun, making them dive for cover. We took off in a dead run.
When we reached the end of the hallway, he disabled the ID box, once again twisting the wires and fusing them back together in different locations. "Most criminals don't know how vulnerable A.I.R. is because of their ID system," he explained. "It's a well-guarded secret and was one of the first things we learned at training camp, so we'd be prepared if we were ever locked out because of it." As he spoke, he jumped up and pounded at the ceiling.
"Keep watch," he told me and handed me the gun. "If anyone comes toward us, fire first and ask questions later."
My hand shook, but I aimed down the empty hallway. Waiting. Waiting. Thankfully, no one came. But I did hear them pounding against the metal door. Heard a motor of some sort, as if they were trying to saw their way through.
"If I open the door, we'll be faced with about one hundred armed and pissed agents," Erik said. He continued to beat at the ceiling, bits of plaster falling at our feet. "So we're going to move through the vents."
"Vents?" Tiny, confined spaces, trapping us like rabbits? Don't panic, don't panic.
"Well, they aren't really vents. They were put here in case agents needed to evacuate without going out the front or back doors."
After he'd pounded a large enough hole for us to crawl through, he jumped and grabbed the edge, then hoisted himself up. He reached down, took the gun, and offered me a hand.
Using my uninjured arm, I reached up. My fingers intertwined with his, and he hefted me beside him. "Thank you," I said, the words echoing. Trepidation consumed me. The space was small, tight. Dark. "Won't they know where we are when they see the hole?"
"By the time they get here, it'll be too late. Now stay behind me, okay? And stay quiet."
I nodded.
He crawled forward and I remained close behind him. My knees were raw and I wished to God I'd worn pants instead of a skirt. The vents seemed to get smaller and darker the higher we climbed. At least there was a breeze of cool air so I didn't feel confined or trapped. Still, my legs and arms began to burn from exertion.
Below me, I could hear footsteps pounding and agents yelling at each other. The alarm had quieted, thankfully, so that no longer echoed inside my mind.
What seemed an eternity later, Erik stopped. He held up his hand for silence--as if I would have dared speak or even breathe--and listened. My eyes finally adjusted to the dark and I could see his profile, hazy though it was. Strong nose. Shadowed beard stubble, and a firm jaw, clenched as he concentrated.
I listened, too, but heard nothing.
He turned left and motioned for me to follow. I did. We reached a dead end. I didn't have time to panic. He jerked a vent cover from the wall, producing a new opening. He dangled his legs over the side, holding onto the edge to keep from falling. But then, to my surprise, he released his grip and disappeared. I heard a gentle tap as he landed.
"Camille."
I inched forward and peeked through the opening. Erik stood in a dark, spacious room. Alone. There were beds, one after the other lined against each side of the wall.
"Jump," he said. He held up his arms and motioned me down with his fingers. "I'll catch you."
I shook my head. The drop wasn't bad, but it was still a drop and I'd already been battered and beaten enough for one day. Besides, I didn't want to hurt him. Some of his cuts had opened and blood trickled down his bottom lip and chin.
"Jump."
No other way, Robins.
"Jump!"
Oh hell. "You'll catch me?" I didn't think my legs could hold my weight. "What if I hurt you?"
"I'll catch you. And you can't hurt me."
With a sigh, I wiggled until I was sitting with my legs through the hole. Holding my breath, I let myself fall. My stomach nearly rose into my throat. Erik caught me as promised, as if I weighed no more than a bag of feathers. He settled me on my feet, kissed me quickly, and raced to the window.
Had I not grabbed onto one of the bed rails, I would have fallen. As it was, my knees wobbled and I struggled to remain upright. "Where are we?"
"This is where agents sleep when the night is quiet and uneventful. And since there's chaos below, I knew no one would be here." He aimed the pyre-gun and squeezed the trigger. No sound, only heat. The glass-like material melted, dripping liquid crystal onto the bottom frame.
Plumes of smoke wafted, but the outside air wafted inside, pushing them away and dancing my hair around my face.
Erik removed his belt and anchored the middle on a thick wire just beyond the seal. "Come here," he said without looking back at me.
I moved toward him as fast as my feet would carry me--which wasn't fast. "I don't like this," I said, already suspecting what he wanted me to do.
He tugged on each side of the belt, pulling them taut. "You want to live?" Finally he faced me, peering at me intently.
"Yes."
"Then put your arms around me and hold tight. And do not let go for any reason. Understand?"
"Yes," I repeated. Dread filled me.
He stepped onto the ledge and I joined him, shaking uncontrollably. We were higher than I'd realized. Or anticipated. Below us, lights zoomed and flickered over the ground, highlighting a violent battle already in play. Agents were going toe-to-toe with aliens. Morevvs. Some were fighting with their fists, some were fighting with guns. But the Morevvs, I noticed, were moving away from the building.
"The Morevvs are going to disappear soon, leaving the agents free to come after us." Erik's tone was as dark as the night. "The longer we stay here, the smaller our chances of success."
Without another word of complaint, I wrapped my arms around his neck as commanded. "I'm not scared," I lied. "I'll be fine."
"Don't scream." In the next instant, Erik jumped.
I bit his shoulder to keep from screaming. He hissed in my ear, but didn't ask me to stop. Down, down, down we glided, his belt our only anchor. I expected it to snap at any moment. Excepted us to drop and splat on the concrete like bugs against a windshield.
When we landed, I was jostled to the bone and almost fell flat on my face. Erik gave a rough jerk, keeping me upright. Someone spotted us and fired. A blue stun beam whizzed past my shoulder. I finally screamed.
That, of course, drew more attention. Several more rounds of fire launched at us. Yellow, this time. Fire.
"Run!" Erik shouted, tugging me into a mad dash.
We raced into a blackened alleyway, where other buildings stretched on each side. He cast a glance over his shoulder. Frowned. "No one's following us. That really was too easy."
Too easy? Too easy! We'd almost died. We'd jumped from a building without a parachute or landing mat. We'd been shot at.
He threw another frown over his shoulder. We reached a well-lit patch and golden moonlight bathed his face, lit his eyes. "They'd love for me to lead them to my boss. Maybe..."
"Still not see anyone?"
"No. But that doesn't mean they aren't there." He cursed under his breath and rounded a corner.
I panted, doing my best to keep up. "Maybe leading A.I.R. to your boss isn't such a bad thing, Erik."
"You don't know what you're talking about," he snapped. "You have no idea what will happen if that man stops making Onadyn."
"I just--"
"No. You don't understand."
"Then for God's sake explain it to me."
He opened his mouth, closed it. Opened, closed. Finally, he changed the subject. "Listen. Ryan Stone was fighting the Morevvs, and that's one point in our favor. Believe me when I say that he's not the kind of guy you want to meet in a darkened alley. He'll beat the shit out of both of us just for giggles."
"How is that a point in our favor?"
"When he's in town, he and Phoenix are inseparable
. She wouldn't have followed us without him."
I relaxed. A little. "What should we do?" Now that we were out of that building, my adrenaline rush was fading. My arm was hurting worse than ever and the weakness in my limbs was spreading. I was still shaking. My feet throbbed as twigs and rocks beat against them.
I wasn't used to this kind of life and knew I couldn't last much longer.
Erik flicked a third glance over his shoulder. "Damn it, this doesn't feel right." He ground to a stop and looked around.
Panting, I leaned against the brick wall. "Since we're taking a moment, why don't you tell me why it would be such a bad thing to destroy an illegal Onadyn ring. I know you want to help Outers, but other people are surely using that Onadyn to sell to humans. And if we help A.I.R., they might leave us alone."
"I won't bargain with them. Yeah, they might leave us alone," he said, raking a hand through his hair, "but other people would die."
"Explain."
For a long while, he didn't speak. Then he sighed and said, "The aliens who need it will stop getting it." Pause. "See, a while back, I chased a predatory alien into an alleyway very similar to this one. He was suspected of beating a human to death. We questioned him, found him guilty, and killed him. Then, because I'd been the one to catch him, I had to be the one to tell his family what had happened."
Guilt and pain dripped from Erik's voice. A part of me wanted to tell him to stop talking, that I'd heard enough. But I sank to my knees and motioned for him to continue. He needed to get it out and I needed to know the truth. "What happened then?"
"He had a wife and two little kids and they were devastated. Sticking to procedure, I instructed them to leave the planet."
"Did they?"
"No." He laughed bitterly. "They couldn't return, they said, because their planet was in ruins. There was nothing left and they would die there. But you see, they were going to die if they stayed. They were not oxygen-tolerant. And, linked to a predatory alien as they were, they could no longer get their supply of Onadyn. They couldn't afford to buy black market, either."
Erik's features glazed with fury, obliterating the guilt but not the pain. "They'd done nothing wrong," he said, "but they were being punished."
"That wasn't your fault, Erik. You were doing your job."
"My job could have killed them." He slammed a fist into the brick wall. "I visited them a few days later and they were near death already. Two little kids, Camille, unable to breath because of me. Me! You should have seen them. Writhing. Groaning. Contorted."
"Erik."
"Have you ever seen someone die from lack of Onadyn?"
"No, but I've seen pictures of the end result."
"That's nothing compared to watching it happen." Scowling, he punched the wall again. "I was determined to save those kids from that kind of fate."
My respect for him deepened.
"I'd investigated an Onadyn dealer who we hadn't yet proven guilty and approached him. He refused to sell to me, thinking I meant to bust him. I--I stole it from him and took it to the kids."
"I'm glad," I said, meaning it. Of course he'd taken the kids Onadyn. He cared about people, about innocents. He would not have allowed them to die, no matter what he'd had to do.
It had taken courage to do what he'd done. It had taken honor. And it had taken determination. He had to have known he'd lose everything. But he'd done it anyway. I told him all of that.
Erik peered over at me in surprise.
"You did the right thing," I said. "I understand now. I do. And I agree with you. That family should not have been punished for their father's sins."
He turned his gaze to his feet. "I came to District Eight because I knew Silver's dad was selling Onadyn illegally. I'd heard about him from another agent, but I'd never met him. I worked my way into his life and bought the drug from him until I ran out of money. I didn't know what else to do, so I started selling it for him to pay for what I needed. I didn't know what else to do," he repeated.
"I wish I had the guts to do something half as brave."
Quicker than the blink of an eye, he moved in front of me. He cupped my jaw and planted a swift kiss on my lips, a kiss that was hard and soft at the same time. "You're braver than you give yourself credit for."
I met his stare. "And you're more honorable than you give yourself credit for."
His grip tightened. "I've never sold it to humans. You have to believe me. I've only ever sold it to aliens who needed it but couldn't get it on their own. My goal has always been to learn how to make it myself and set up my own lab."
"I believe you. But you don't need your own lab, Erik, you just need to change the law." The words came out of my mouth, but they were straight from my dad. He loved working and manipulating the legal system almost as much as he loved me and my mom. Never for aliens, though, always for humans.
That needed to change, I decided.
Erik snorted.
"No, I'm serious. It can be done," I said.
He shook his head and stepped away from me. "That takes time, and these people don't have time." He held up his hand to silence me when I opened my mouth. "A.I.R. already knows where Silver lives, so going there won't give them any information they don't already have. Can you make it?"
I nodded. No way I was staying here, so close to A.I.R.
"Then let's go. We'll figure out our next move when we get there."
10
Panting and sweating, we ran for over a mile. Always we remained in the shadows. Always my heart beat like a war drum. Somewhere along the way--between looking over my shoulder for the thousandth time and praying God struck me with lightning so the night would end--I tripped and scraped my knee, ripping my new, cool syn-leather skirt (not to mention my pride).
"You've had enough," Erik said between heavy breaths. He eyed the nearest street, left and right, then withdrew a black velvet pouch from his pocket. He crouched in front of a blue four-door car. "Let me know if anyone drives by."
"O--okay." I guess being his lookout makes me an official criminal, I thought, scanning every shadow, every hollow, every building. "Where'd you get that?"
"From one of the agents." Unrolling the velvet produced two thin, scalpel-type objects. He cut the plastic ID pad in the center, digging a deep hole, then rewired several of the lines. "Accept new voice," he said. "Start."
The car roared to life.
"Open."
The driver-side door opened.
Grinning, he ushered me inside and then claimed the programmer's seat. He keyed in Silver's address and we eased onto the road. All the while, he (and I) watched for any sign of A.I.R. They never appeared, thank the Lord, and soon we reached the Morevv's mansion perched on top of a hill.
A rainbow of pale pinks, yellows, and blues, the house seemed to pulse with energy. Trees and roses flourished throughout the manicured lawn. They were fake, those trees and blooms, since Mother Nature had been decimated during the Human-Alien War so many years ago and had yet to replenish herself properly.
And yeah, the war between humans and aliens was now fought privately. Something I hadn't known until tonight. I'd assumed we were living in harmony and at peace with our visitors. I shuddered. What a fool I'd been.
The car eased to a stop at a towering iron gate. Erik placed his left palm in the ID box. Blue light instantly glowed and scanned each of his fingers, lingering on his thumb.
Finally, a computerized voice said, "Welcome, Erik."
The gate slowly creaked open. Obviously Erik had done this before and was a welcomed guest. My heart, however, pounded with uncertainty as the car inched up the long, winding drive.
"I just thought of something," I said, straightening in my seat. Dread coursed though me. "Shanel and Silver."
"Yes?"
"Will they be picked up by A.I.R.?" Just the thought caused bile to burn in my throat. And yeah, guilt. I hadn't thought about her or worried about her as much as I should have.
Erik reached over a
nd squeezed my hand. "Your friend is fine. Silver would have called me if they were being chased."
"Unless he was incapacitated."
"He's not incapacitated. He sent those Morevvs for us, remember?"
That's right, he had. I relaxed. Slightly. "Silver might be okay, but that doesn't mean Shanel is. A.I.R. could have picked her up at home."
We reached the front entrance of the house and the car stopped. Erik didn't exit, but shifted in the seat and faced me. He studied me intently, silently. Then he said, "After you passed out at my place, I called Silver and told him to keep Shanel with him. She's fine."
Every muscle in my body slumped. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Erik manually exited. Around he raced and popped open my door, holding out a hand.
I had to use every ounce of my strength to stand. My knees wobbled and almost gave out, but he kept his arm around me and held me steady. Morning was fast approaching, painting the sky in a haze of pretty hues, and the air was hotter, wrapping me in a warm cocoon.
Safe, I though. Finally. That was all my body needed to prepare for sleep. My eyelids drooped heavily and exhaustion pounded through me. A thin fog wisped through my mind.
Obviously informed of our arrival, Silver opened the French double doors and pounded down the porch steps. His blue hair blew around his shoulders as his gaze took in our ragged, bloody appearances. "Glad to see you alive."
Erik grinned. "Thanks for sending in the troops to get us out, man."
"My pleasure," Silver said. "I would have sent them sooner, but didn't think to track you until later."
The two guys slapped each other on the shoulders, jostling me. "Where's your dad?" Erik asked.
"Hasn't made it home yet."
Erik motioned to me with a chin tilt. "Tell Camille her friend is okay."
"She's fine," Silver said to me. "She's inside and sleeping peacefully."
Even though Erik had assured me that Shanel was fine, hearing it confirmed was like waving a magic wand of relief over me. "Thank you. Thank you so much for keeping her safe."
Erik's arm tightened around my waist as he ushered me inside the house. The smell of plants and dirt wafted to my nose. Not a bad smell, but a little strange. He didn't say a word as he led me up the marble staircase, past alabaster vanities and colorful art. Past plush red rugs and crystal holoscreen TVs. There was even a chandelier with hundreds of lights that looked like dripping stars.