Escape from Harrizel Page 28

  Sampson nods, locking eyes with Reid who’s quick to dismiss the Rogues. They start back the way we came, everyone filing away silently. I glance back at Raj. How can I leave her like this? Out here, mutilated, unable to escape?

  “Come on,” Reid tugs.

  We head back to Camp in near silence, except for a few unsettling coughs and a quiet, but endless bellowing from Griffin. Once we reach the trunk, I make for Sampson, narrowing my eyes. “You said I’m partially right? How?”

  “Yes. I’ve confirmed with Blovid…” Sampson takes a moment, “…they’re attempts at reanimation.”

  I’m about to say something but shut my mouth immediately. There’s only one word I can form. “Reanimation?”

  Sampson said it yesterday, right before going into his trance. The word unnerved me then, but I put it away, burying it beneath his momentary mental flight and the worry of telling everyone what I saw. But now, as Sampson says it again, the word, eerie and evil at its core, springs up once more, setting a chill over me.

  “To create an army, we believe.”

  “An army?” Reid glances to me, then back to Sampson again. “For what?”

  “Sympse,” Vix places a hand on his arm, her velvety voice alarmed.“You’re not saying it is true?”

  She seems to understand and judging by the horror marring her face, it’s not good. Sampson nods, glancing around at all of us, everyone in the compacted burrow, inhaling a deep breath.

  “The Dofinikes…” he begins, his words shaky, “…are at war with each other. The human massacre years ago was only the beginning of the split. Those who wanted the genocide completed went mad, secretly seeking ways to strike back at the ones who ordered the cease-fire.”

  “Blovid,” I say. “He was the Dofinike leader who ordered it to stop?”

  Sampson nods.

  “And what?” Clark sneers. “They’re still trying to get him back?”

  “In so many words… ” Sampson glances around at us. “Reuzkimpart wanted the genocide complete. Still does. It is my understanding—along with Blovid’s—that Reuzkimpart wants to create an army, an army capable of reanimation after death. An army… even Blovid is unable to defeat.”

  “I don’t get it,” Clark shakes his head, “if Reuzkimpart wants us dead, then why reanimate us?”

  “He does want you dead. But he wants you to kill yourselves. You saw what they did,” Sampson gestures to the hovel’s wooden door, “what they tried. This reanimation would be for the sole purpose of tearing down other humans. You’d be destroying yourselves. It’d be…” he searches for a way to better explain it, “like unleashing a hoard of zombies on earth.”

  Silence sits in the air like a soluble mist. No one wants to say it. No one wants to even think it, let alone admit to its reality. We’re an endless supply of easily discarded tools to create an impenetrable army to ensure our own demise.

  “You’d eradicate yourselves without them ever having to lift a finger. And,” he sighs, “by the look of Raj, they’re getting closer.”

  “Well what do we do? How do we stop it?” Clark asks.

  “They’ve started war,” Chief says, more curses and questions flying through the room.

  “He’s going to keep going until it works, right? Until he gets his army?” I look to Sampson who nods. “Then we have to retaliate.”

  “Yes, but how?” Clark whines.

  “We find the memories. We use them as currency to buy our supporters. We mobilize,” I lock eyes with Reid and Tucker. “When the timing is right, attack. What we found tonight doesn’t change anything. Sampson,” I turn to him, “you said a three to five day window. Any clue when that might come up?”

  “As a matter of fact, Blovid has given me the green light for eleven days from now. He’s been made aware of a Vermix meeting at that time…”

  “Vermix?” I ask.

  “Means true to Dellapalania,” Sampson exhales sadly. “It’s what we’re taught—that Dellapalania should always be put first. It is not a belief in the Way or honoring the Three Worlds and Three Gifts.”

  “So,” I’m still trying to put this all together, to make sense of all the new terms and events, “Arizals and Vermix are…”

  “Enemies, at least as of the massacre…” Sampson explains, “and it’s only getting worse. Blovid has informed me of a Vermix meeting in eleven days and supposedly, it’s to discuss progress on this very project. They’ll unite to discuss their secret weapon—the undefeatable army being built here on Harrizel.”

  “Us.” Pratt confirms.

  “The meeting—as I’m to understand—is supposed to last for ten days, at which point Beshib will return with more Vermix and by then, it’ll be too late,” Sampson glances around. “They want more testing done, more desirable results. They’re getting closer but Reuzkimpart is impatient,” Sampson locks eyes with Reid, then me. “This is when we have to move.”

  Reid soaks in the words like Tucker and the Rogue Commanders next to him, lost in their own quick analysis of what’s been revealed. Are they scheming their own plans to victory? What have they come up with?

  I look to Sampson. “Eleven days?”

  “It’s our best shot.”

  “And the Kings?” Jace poses, a quick glance at Chief before he crosses his arms. “They’re still as real a threat as the Dofinikes.”

  “The Vermix,” Reid corrects.

  “Right,” he nods. “They’ll need to be dealt with. If there’s any hope to take the Castle.”

  “So we deal with them first,” Able says.

  “Yeah,” Clark sighs with annoyance, “but how? Got any ideas on this one?” he directs the question to me.

  “Not this second,” I glower, “but we’ll come up with something.”

  “Like?”

  “Maybe using you as bait to draw them out here,” I smirk before turning to Reid. “How many are we talking again?”

  “Looking at about fifty Kings.”

  “And their Clients? Scouts? Would they pose a threat?”

  He shrugs, “Depends. Most Clients are too scared to leave or change sides. If the Kings were removed completely, I don’t see them as much trouble.”

  “And the Scouts?”

  Tucker scoffs. “Loyal as all hell.”

  “But most Scouts are younger,” Able adds, “easily overridden, especially if we get our hands on those weapons you were talking about the other night…”

  “Do we have any idea where they are or how to get them?” I turn back to Sampson.

  “Unfortunately, I’m not privy to that information... but perhaps,” he looks at Vix beside him. She nods and Sampson’s brows lift in hope, glancing back to me. “Jothkore may be able to help. But it must be at the right time. If he’s exposed as an Arizal before we take the Castle, he’ll be forced into slavery like us and won’t be much help.”

  “So when do we secure the weapons?” Tucker asks.

  “Guns?” Jace presumes. “I’d feel much better with a rifle in my hands.”

  “I’m sure there’ll be some,” Sampson nods, “a few copies of what was found on Arrivals, but mostly, I expect Dellapalanian weaponry.”

  “Don’t forget our own,” Drenz throws out.

  “Finely made, I might add,” Rooney nods.

  “And once we’re armed?” Clark asks, readdressing the room with doubt. “Then what?”

  “We take it back,” I say. “Obviously.”

  “Yeah but how?”

  “We’ll use Reminders… everyone will already be there, waiting to hear something anyway. Why not give them the truth this time?”

  “If we tell them at Reminders, when do we get the weapons?” Tucker asks. “Remember, we need to find the memories too.”

  “After Rebuilding ends,” Pratt suggests. “We’ll have thirty minutes.”

  “Will that be enough time?” Clark gripes. “I hardly think…”

  “No, no she’s right. It’ll be the only time the guards won’t be guardi
ng. It’s free period for a reason, right? We’ll be able to move without everyone seeing us. And we can’t act before then…”

  “Why not?” Clark snaps, assuming I don’t have an answer ready.

  “Because everyone won’t filter out of work without the guards and we need them to be in the Auditorium like usual. If the guards are gone, it’ll be chaos and they’ll scatter. No, we need everyone in one place, surrounded by our guard,” I glance to the others. “It’s the only time we can.”

  “But thirty minutes to find the weapons, take out Tetlak and the others and locate our memories?” Clark scoffs, shaking his head at the improbability of it. “It’s ridiculous—we’ll never be able to do it.”

  “We don’t have to find our memories the same night. Once we take the Castle, we’ll have time to find them then,” I look to Sampson. “What’d you say, ten days?”

  “But come on!” Clark gripes, scanning faces for support. “Thirty minutes? That’s crazy!”

  “Crazy. But not impossible.”

  Sampson’s mouth perks up. “So we have a plan, yes?”

  “We’ll still have to deal with the Kings,” Chief speaks up.

  “And with only eleven days…” Able says. “It’ll have to be done fast.”

  “Okay,” I tap my fingers over my lips, “figure out a way to remove the Kings and notify Jothkore to locate and secure the weapons. The day Beshib leaves, we’ll do it,” I keep my voice strong, steady. “No turning back.”

  “But…” Clark starts.

  “When Beshib returns, everything will change,” Sampson says. “Fallon’s right. This is our chance.”

  I turn to Reid who’s been silent this whole time. Finally, he nods, sights still focused on the ground. “We’ll find the memories once we’ve taken control of the base. Tucker, you and I will get with Jothkore on his next delivery. I’ll think on the Kings. We’ll reconvene here when there’s a plan in place for them.”

  The Rogues nod, Clark sighs loudly and Griffin merely sniffles in the back. I’d forgotten he was here. Reid must have too, because he turns, calling for him as the Rogues make a path back to where he silently sobs in the corner.

  “Griffin,” Reid says, approaching slowly. “I can’t understand what you’re going through right now but you’ve got to listen to me. You cannot, cannot,” he stresses again, “tell anyone what we saw tonight. No one.”

  “And the Scouts?” Pratt asks. “Should they know?”

  Reid shakes his head, “No. Let’s keep this between us. There’s no point in scaring them. Let’s keep business going as usual and when we take control of the Castle, that’s when they’ll know. Sound good?” Everyone nods again as he turns to Griffin. “Yes?”

  But Griffin stares off at nothing, beyond Reid. Can he even hear us? Has he heard any of this?

  “Griffin?” Reid asks again, snapping in his face. “In there, buddy? Griffin?”

  This time, his eyes focus and he sees Reid. He blinks, taking in the room and all the staring, bewildered faces that look on with empathy. Gulping, his eyes shift to me, then Sampson, trying to put everything together.

  Reid snaps again. “Up front buddy.”

  This time Griffin sees him. “Yeah.”

  “You heard what I said?” Reid puts his face in front of Griffin’s, keeping their eyes locked. “You can’t tell anyone about tonight. About anything you saw, all right? This is important. I’m going to need you to do this for me. Griffin?”

  “Yeah,” he nods quickly, lowering his head, “but she’s out there…” his voice shaky, “they’re all…”

  “I’m serious—I need you to do this for me. For the Rogues. If there’s any chance of helping her, we’ll need to take back the Castle and that means keeping quiet.”

  Griffin nods, looking up again. Glancing around the watchful eyes of the Clansmen, then at Sampson and me, he finally finds Reid. “I promise I won’t say anything.”

  “As your new assignment?”

  Griffin blinks, nonplussed but slow to nod, “… As my new assignment.”

  “Good,” Reid nods, lightly clapping the side of his shoulder. He turns to Kelly and Able, “Have Marley take his spot and double his pay.”

  “Rox,” Griffin springs to his feet, “you don’t have to worry. I won’t say anything. I promise.”

  Reid turns and shakes his head. “You’ve had a night. This is the least I can do for you.”

  “I’m sorry I hit you.”

  “Don’t be. Would’ve done the same thing,” he rubs his jaw, “although you got one hell of a swing. I think you loosened some teeth. Ever thought about being a Clansman?” The Rogues laugh just as Reid spins around, clapping to sum up. “All right, we’re all clear on what’s happening?”

  “Rogues!” they all shout in unison.

  “Good,” he nods, motioning for the door. “Then let’s head back.”

  ***

  I’m outside digging

  It’s been quiet all morning and all I can think about are the eleven days we have left. Will we resolve what to do with the Kings by then? And what if Jothkore can’t secure the weapons? How will we—

  Voices shout down by the Gollops. They grow heated, then die out and it’s back to silence. I drag my Senz to the gibb again, my mind wandering when the voices spark. This time, people sprint through the trench, racing toward the argument which has grown to full-on yelling. I’m moved along by people passing by, bodies pouring out of the trough to watch the fight. Shifted this way and that, I’m on the ground with the others, right in the middle of the thicket of bodies surrounding the roaring duel.

  A scream shoots through the air. It’s a female voice, young and familiar.

  Pratt.

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Attack

  She’s on the opposite side of the mob, clutched in the arms of one of the Kings who followed me to my bunker. He has one hand clamped over her mouth and the other across her stomach, lifting her. Pratt struggles, kicking both legs into his but he drags her back with ease. Looking behind him, he makes for the far left flank.

  No one sees. They’re still gathered around the fight, which Tetlak hasn’t broken up yet. Where is he?

  Pratt will be gone any second. It ignites a spark of adrenaline but as I start for her, a hand slips over my own mouth, crushing my jaw under a steel grip. I’m slammed back into a stone body, an arm cutting across my stomach. He picks me up, retreating, and we’re out of the crowd in seconds. My arms are bolted to my side so I swing my legs as hard as possible. Finding his, I kick over and over, jamming my heels into shins. He only crushes me tighter.

  “Hold still, bitch.”

  But I keep kicking as hard as I can, over and over until he drops me. Clutching my wrist in his hand, his free one raises to hit me but I thrust my foot in the soft patch between his legs. He pushes me from him, letting out a gasp as he cups himself and falls to his knees. I take advantage and bolt back for the fight.

  I don’t get too far.

  Two Kings stand between me and the crowd, their bodies like impenetrable walls. Grinding my heels into the cracked dirt, I do a quick scan of movement. From my angle, the horde has its back to me, everyone still focused on the fight in the middle. Tetlak is nowhere to be seen and Yerza and Norpe are gone as well. There’s no way to the crowd but through them—the two Kings.

  They take off for me at a dead run.

  I spin, hating the direction. But there’s no other way. The trench cuts off the right and the Castle’s left corner blocks my other side. My only option is back toward the Transport, where I’ve never been and it’s far from everyone else.

  It’s suicide.

  I need to stay where others can see me but those two Kings are flying at me and quickly closing the gap between us. They’re going to drag me back here anyway. My heart’s racing, thumping wildly as I quickly try to recalculate.

  What to do? Which way?

  I’ll have to jet back around, through them. A sharp turn maybe? But how? Passing the
Castle’s corner, I stop in my tracks. Two more Kings. What now? My blood races, my heart threatening to implode. Not sure where to go. Forward or back? Forward or back? It has to be now.

  Spinning, the first two are nearly upon me. Bolting for the far right side, toward the trench, one Clansman flies at me but I jerk to a halt, whirl and dive past him. Just as I jet free, the other King snatches my arm and jerks me back, his hand soaring across my cheek, exploding my head in immediate and intensely throbbing pain.

  For a second, I’m not sure I survived the hit.

  Everything’s been rattled inside. Surely he’s killed me. It certainly feels like it. Like he knocked my eyes further into my skull, which throbs like it’s been splintered to a thousand pieces. My eye pounds into my right temple and I feel everything—every sting and sharp nerve.

  Someone grabs my arms and twists them behind me. Opening my eyes, Mantis walks toward me with an enthusiastic smile. He moves past the other two Kings and, getting closer, his grin widens as he considers me. Suddenly, the back of his hand flies across the same cheek, hitting my mouth open with a splitting, shooting pain.

  I’m dead. I must be.

  Liquid seeps from my busted lip. My right eye aches too much to open, so I keep my left wide, watching him.

  “Stupid bitch.”

  The Kings yank my arms out, twisting.

  “Let’s have some fun before you get too bloody,” Mantis goes for his bottoms, jerking them lower. “Hold her down. On her knees.”

  I’m forced to the ground. Blood drips down my chin and into a puddle between my legs. My heart races as Mantis approaches but then he stops, just as the grip on my right arm lessens. It disappears completely with a roar of pain, the King falling away from me.

  Mantis retreats, yanking his pants up.“Shit…”

  My left arm is freed and I fall to my palms, holding myself up. The two behind Mantis jet forward but Chief meets one in mid-air and Jace, on the other. Chief twists the King’s arm around unnaturally, kicking him in the side with an explosion that pushes him to the ground. The King howls, grabbing his arm. As he stumbles back up, Chief twists around, breaking his heel into the Clansman’s face. Jace, on the other side, flips the fourth King onto the ground, punching him with alternating fists across the face, red splattering like paint cans erupting.