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Scene #29
Apocalypse's Daughter: Dystopia
Don't Panic.
The
thought tickled across my mind like a light caress. Ironic really,
considering panicking was exactly what we should be doing about
now. It didn't get much worse than this. They knew we were here,
and if the number of patrols who'd come out tonight were any
indication, they were determined to find us. The drones we could
handle. They were just norms sent out to prowl the streets for
something or someone out of place. Hunker down in an out of the way
place, hide behind our shields, wait for them to get bored—they'd
move along. We'd been employing that method rigorously since curfew
and managed to gain six blocks on our exit point. So it wasn't the
drones I was worried about. It was the enforcers who'd been sent
out that had scared me shitless. They weren't as easy to fool, and
if they caught us, chances of a fire-fight increased exponentially.
Yeah, panicking seemed like a mag idea to me right now.
Wedged between the sleek office building and the rough surface of
the dumpster, I sucked long slow breaths as we tensely waited to
see if the illusion shield Warren cast would settle. They knew we
were hiding, or suspected. The last attack on Warren's shields was
just a nice little reminder that they had ways of countering this
tactic too. One hit, done just right, and we'd be exposed to not
only whoever might be glancing down this alley at the time, but the
Herald himself. Don't Panic. I got your back, Elle Warren's
thoughts came a second time. His words could be taken both
figuratively and literally because he was behind me. I don't think
that's what he meant though. I took the comment as the reassurance
it was meant to be. Warren was always cool under pressure, the king
of the impossible. I'd known him since I could first toddle and had
never seen him come unglued. Normally, his steady demeanor had an
amazing effect on my easily frazzled nerves. Tonight, however, his
rock solid presence did little to reassure me. He was as
exhausted as I was. Almost seventy-two hours since our little group
crawled through the sludge tunnels and slipped into the forgotten
metro. How much longer could he hold? The next blast of theta waves
could be the one to break him. And if he fell... I bit my lip,
forgot to breathe through my mouth. The putrid smells of rotting
waste, excrement and weedy twoun hit me hard. I gagged and resumed
the labored hiss of breath between my teeth. And they said we were
uncivilized. :Anything?: Warren wasn't asking because he
needed to ask, he knew I'd tell him the moment I sensed someone
approaching. But he seemed to know the contact would help calm me.
I took the gesture for what it was worth and concentrated on
stretching my awareness to the edge of my limits. Anything.
Thing being the optimal word. There was more than just the Herald
and his followers to worry about. Not every mutation resulting from
the Biosphere disaster had been... manageable. There were real
monsters out there too. With the urge to sneak away while the
coast was clear, I peered around the end of the dumpster to check
on the rest of our party. Hidden between the battered metal of our
current camouflage and a pallet of barrels, our companions were
laced together like a two headed monster. They looked funny, cloaks
thrown back, bare skin glistening where their arms and legs
entwined. Cari's pale blonde hair crackled with energy as it
whipped around Val, leaving small welts on his exposed skin. Val
didn't flinch at the small wounds, he was too busy feeding her as
much power as he could spare. That's what Val was, a channel, and
Cari a shifter. And right now she was preparing to jump. If things
went from bad to worse it was imperative she made it back. She was
the most vulnerable; her talents the most useful for our band of
rogues. Without her unique abilities, any future missions were
destined to failure. Our missions were twofold:
reconnaissance and retrieval. There were just some things that
couldn't be made or found out there beyond the bubble. Taking a
large team into the city was impossible. So it was imperative to
have a shifter who'd jump the goods you retrieved outside the
bubble and into the waiting arms of your companions. Cari
was glowing like a super-nova now, and Val shook like a lingering
fall leaf. Any second and she'd be gone. Too bad she couldn't take
us with her. But those were the breaks. Shifting inanimate objects
was one thing; there was no price for a screw up other than a
mangled product at the other end. Cari could jump herself, maybe
because there was an inherent level of self-awareness, but the few
experiments she'd conducted on organic material had been utter
disasters. With a low groan, Val pried himself from Cari and
immediately collapsed into the side of the dumpster. He sat there,
chest heaving. Cari tilted her head down, mouthed what I thought
was an ‘I love you' and flashed out. Silence descended on the
alley, driving home the fact that Cari's departure had been
anything but inconspicuous. Even with Warren's shields, we'd be
lucky for that display to have gone unnoticed. Val turned his
head, looking directly at me with eerily pale blue eyes. I expected
to see a measure of my own panic reflected there, instead I saw
satisfaction. In the next instant I knew why: Val passed out.
Bastard had sacrificed himself, and probably us too, to ensure his
heart-mate made it home. Well I wasn't dying today, and
neither was he. Nope, Val was going to make it home to tell Cari
what he'd done.
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