Night Whispers: The Complex Page 19
A loud buzz shrieks and a drone voice says, “Fourth incorrect attempt. One more and arrest will be immanent.”
Since I’m already in here, I shrug and make one more attempt.
The door sighs open. I hustle toward Thras. As I hurry, I yank the light controls to off.
“Hey! We can get some sleep finally!” someone yells.
“What’s going on?”
By the time I get to Thras’ cell, the entire wing is in chaos. There are boots stomping, guards yelling, and the blue blaze of segifs all around me.
Thras’ guard sees me and begins to yell. “Hey! Stop! You’re supposed to be locked up!”
He lifts his segif, takes aim and…
I rummage around in my cache, tied to my hips with torn scraps and fibers pulled from my uniform, pull out a handful of both dead and living spiders, and fling it at him.
The dead ones stick to his uniform. As the freaked-out live arachnids flee, their tiny legs moving in a blur, the guard shrieks, batting his body like it’s on fire.
I shake my head. While he’s otherwise engaged, it takes me two attempts to get the right key-code for Thras. When I get his door open, he appears restored and ready.
“Hurry,” he hisses, grabbing my hand. “Let’s go. I know where an exit is. I got the info from one of the prisoners. I threatened to drain him dry if he didn’t spill.”
“Remind me never to piss you off,” I say, sprinting to keep up with him. “Let’s go!”
In the shadows and gloom, I keep my hand out to feel for obstacles. Maybe Thras has some psionic vamp sight to help him find his way.
“Lock down! We’re going into lock-down!” a booming voice calls. “There are prisoners on the loose.”
Goosebumps ripple along my neck and head.
“Hurry, Thras, hurry!” I whisper.
He nearly shoves me through a door into a dark stairwell. We power down the Smuntine stairs, our footfalls clanging and echoing.
“Where are we headed?” I ask, breathless.
“To escape. There aren’t too many guards down here.”
We zip down darkened corridors and unused cells, smelling like human waste and rotting food. When we reach what I assume is the basement, we race through a shadowy hallway.
The banging footfalls of Climintra grow closer. “Find them!” someone calls. “Find them and destroy them!”
Up ahead a guard yells, “Halt or I’ll shoot!”
Thras lets out a strangled noise.
“I never wanted you to see this but…” He leaps, grapples the guard to the ground, and presses his forehead to him. The guard struggles, and then goes limp. Thras seems to grow larger—and he glows green.
Thras throws back his head and shakes it, like he’s in ecstasy.
I’m round-eyed, wondering what’s going on with him, but there’s no time to process.
Thras roots around in the guard’s pockets and removes a master key-card. He tosses it to me and picks up the guard’s segif. “Over there. Let’s go.”
Climintra burst into the room. “Get them!”
The blue blaze of a segif flashes.
Thras and I sprint toward the exit.
With shaking fingers, I swipe the key card through the card reader. Nothing happens. I swipe it again. “What do we do?”
“Oh, fuck it, I didn’t want you to see this either,” Thras growls. “I get juiced when I feed like that.” He turns to the side, roars, and slams his shoulder into the Smuntine door, shattering it.
“That might have saved us a lot of energy,” I say, as we run into the night. Fresh air swirls around us. “Any idea what time it is?”
“Last I checked,” Thras says, his legs pumping hard “it was eleven.”
“Crap, we’ve got to move!”
We both turn on the steam, racing through the streets and alleys of the Complex until we arrive at District Five, apartment six-hundred, leaving the guards far behind.
The Obliterate gang is crowded around something.
“Move out of the way,” Thras roars, pushing and shoving, hauling me with him.
I come to an abrupt halt, staring at what looks like a bomb—in front of Reve’s apartment, sitting innocently inside a woman’s clutch.
“Sakhi!” a familiar voice cries. “What are you doing?”
A gang member with the mud tagline painted across his chest rushes toward me.
Reve. It’s got to be Reve.
“Get out of here. Go! Now!” he yells.
“You know they want to blow up your District?” I ask, incredulous.
“Of course I do. Only…” He looks furtively right and left and lowers his voice. “We’re the ones doing the blowing. We infiltrated. Mink’s been working for both sides. They think he’s on their side but he’s not about to blow us up. No way. We’re going to obliterate some Metas.” His eyes glisten in a crazed kind of way. “We have to get the bomb out of here, and head to the top level Metas area. Go! You’re in the way!” He hustles me away from the melee. “Get out of here. Leave your Meta to die with the others! I’ll make sure he gets home.”
“What? No! You’re crazy, Reve!” I claw at his shoulders, like I can shake sense into him. “This is a mistake.”
“It’s no mistake, sis. Now, get out of here.” He turns me around and pushes me.
“No, you don’t understand,” I say, whirling to face him.
“Oh, I understand, all right. Your mind’s been warped by a Meta. They want to kill us, Sakhi, all of them!” he says, grabbing my shoulders, whipping me around, and shoving me toward a Fastrans.
“No, you don’t understand.,” I wrest his hand from my body. “Paki’s behind all of this. He’s the one who killed our mother. He’s the one who tried to kill Thras. He almost raped me, he almost killed the man I love, and now he wants to destroy you and me both. I saw him, Reve! In my dreams. He told me what he has planned for us, and it ain’t pretty.”
Reve comes to a sudden stop. He whirls to face me, peeling the mask free. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. This is all Paki’s doing, every bit.”
The color drains from his face, leaving him looking like a pale ghost. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“No! It’s the truth as witnessed by the gods. Thras is being framed,” I say, hoping against hope that I’m reaching the brother I once knew.
His lungs heave as he ponders my words. He grabs his hair and tugs, pacing in a tiny circle. “Shit, shit, shit. We don’t have time to change the plan. The bomb’s going to go off in twenty-minutes. Gods!” His pacing increases. Finally, he says, “Okay. I’ve got it.”
He faces me.
“What do you have? Tell me!” I grab the front of his uniform.
“Look at you, baby-sis, in all your tough-girl glory. I’m proud of you.” He gives me a roguish smile, shaking his head. “You’re really something, you know that? All this time, all our struggling to survive in the streets, losing mom, losing dad…all that time I thought you needed me. It turns out I needed you. You’re the strong one between us.”
My face crumples. “What are you saying?”
His warm hazel eyes fill with tears as he regards me.
There’s the brother I know and love, I think, as my eyes fill with a matching pool of sorrow. I reached him. I finally got to my brother.
“I’m saying…I love you, sis. I’ll always love you. But some things are bigger than life itself.” He grips my shoulders hard enough to hurt.
“I don’t understand. What are you telling me?” My head swims with confusion, my heart pounding with panic. I want to grab his hand and run away into the night. “We can get through this, Reve. We’ve always gotten through everything. We’ll do it together, just like always.”
He gnaws his lower lip and studies me.
An agonizing silence passes between us.
His breath comes in shallow pants, like he’s trying to keep it together. “No, baby-sis. You don’t need me anymore. I’m certain
you never did.” His jaw squares, and he thrusts me into the lift.
I slam against the back wall. Shaking my head from the impact, I aright myself and rush at my brother.
Reve stands in the way like a block of granite.
“What are you going to do? Tell me. Let me help,” I plead.
The cold, determined face of Reve the soldier appears before me. “I’m the only one who knows how to detonate that bomb.”
I plant my palms on his chest and shove, but it’s like pushing a wall. “No, Reve. No! It will kill you. You told me what happened to one of your comrades in the war. The blow-back finished him off. Those around him still died.”
“Yeah, but it was the few instead of the many. And you won’t be one of them.” He leans forward to kiss my cheek, saying, “I’m proud of you. Your courage has risen from the shit and mud of the Complex. I can tell.”
He places his palm over my heart and gives another shove, gentler this time. Then, he leans on the close button, until his face, his body, everything I know and love disappears from sight.
I can’t let his plan happen. I won’t lose my brother.
Chapter 31
The Fastrans zips down to the lower levels of the city itself.
“Let me out!” I scream, whacking the console.
I bash the open button with my fist until my hand bruises. The Fastrans is relentless, whizzing me away from my brother’s folly. There’s nothing I can do.
The elevator shudders to a stop and the portal slides open, revealing the dimly lit streets and businesses closed until morning.
“City level. District five. Please exit. City level. District five. Please exit,” the drone voice states.
The lift shakes violently, knocking me on my knees, my hands planted on the sidewalk. My feet and ankles are still in the lift.
“Out of service. Equipment malfunction. Out of service. Equipment malfunction,” the disembodied voice states.
“Oh, come on,” I say.
The doors start to slide shut, about to result in me having bloody stumps, leaving my feet to ride up the elevator shaft.
I yank them free before losing them in the clutch of Smuntine metal. Desperate to save my brother, I leap up and pound the metal doors, yelling.
“Open up! Let me in!” I glance over my shoulder to see if anyone’s watching my crazy-attack.
The streets are fairly empty at this late hour. Most people are presumably tucked in their soon to be coffins, about to be blown to smithereens. A vamp or two slithers through the night, eying me as a snack, I guess.
“Let me in, let me in, let me in,” I plead, whacking the lift doors.
The Fastrans lights go out, as if it’s just given up the ghost.
Letting out a groan, I turn to race for another Fastrans.
A horrifying blast explodes from the upper levels. A fiery orange ball shoots into the air, right from the floor where my brother lives.
I can’t even comprehend what’s happening. I stare at it, transfixed, as if hypnotized.
It doesn’t look that big. It’s not the big boom Paki wanted, is it?
And then, a deathly silence falls, as debris and dust, ash, clothing, fragments of furniture and other personal belongs flutter to the ground. I stand like a statue, looking up, my jaw dropped wide. One of the shreds of fabric drifts toward my head. It falls gently, like a feather, at my feet. I stoop down to pick it up. There, etched in my brother’s handwriting, is an evil looking smiley face, with the words “Out of the mud…” scrawled next to it.
I drop to my knees, my heart shattered. “Reve, no! No, no, no! And Thras! Oh, gods, no!”
All hell breaks out around me. Sirens wail. People scream. The Uni-propaganda news shouts out, “Explosion contained in District Five. Damages minimal. Your Uni-government works for you, keeping you safe. Explosion contained in District Five…”
I tune out the madness, thinking only of Reve and Thras. I sprint for another Fastrans, but as it lands on the city center level, the doors open and Humans and Metas pour forth, their faces pale, eyes wide with horror. I whirl in a circle, seeking exit.
The streets swiftly become jam-packed as Complex residents spill from the lifts like roaches.
I wriggle past a crowd of dazed individuals and push inside the elevator.
“Don’t go up there,” someone calls. “It’s horrible.”
“I’m going.” Pressing my lips together, I stand squarely in the lift, the way my brother would do. Still clutching the scrap of fabric, I cross my arms over my chest and whiz toward the upper level. When it reaches my brother’s floor, this lift, too, shudders.
“Equipment malfunction. Please exit. Equipment malfunction. Please exit.” The door slides open, but only partially.
I shove the piece of uniform in my pocket and my hands land on something strange. My fingers curl around it, and I retrieve my brother’s com. He slipped it into my pocket. Why? I’ve got no time to figure it out. I wriggle free of the lift, pushing into a sea of horrified faces.
“This one’s broken. Go! Find another!” I tell them.
A collective groan erupts as people rush away, heading down the corridor.
I sprint in the direction of apartment six-hundred.
Bloody bodies are strewn about the corridor like dolls. Many moan, still alive. Some are deathly still. Small fires burn their uniforms, creating choking smoke.
I cough my way through the chaos, seeking the place where I last saw the bomb. I find Thras, alive.
“Baby!” I cry.
He’s on his knees, a fallen form in his lap.
Amid all this violence, all this gruesome death, he sits calmly, focused, passing his hands over my brother’s limp form.
“Oh, Reve,” I say, falling to my knees. “You’re going to make it. Thras is going to help. You’ll make it. I know you will.”
I stroke his bloody face, pushing his hair back.
Bone fragments protrude from his legs and arms, sending sick chills through my belly. With effort, he opens his eyes.
“That’s it, soldier. Stay strong,” Thras says to him.
“Sis…I did it. I detonated…” He lets out a long, loud groan.
“Shhh, shhh, shhh,” I soothe. “Easy.” I look deeply into his eyes, trying to will him back to life with my love.
“I was…I was wrong about the…the Metas.” He grits his teeth as another pain wave passes through him.
“Come on, Thras. Do your magic,” I plead.
“I’m doing my best, sweetheart,” he says.
“They’re not all bad,” Reve utters. “At least one of them…can…” He groans. “Can live.”
“Yes, at least one of them.” I smile at my brother, and then at Thras.
“Stay strong. Make magic out of mud,” Reve forces out.
“You’re going to make it, Reve. We can be strong together.” I clutch his hand.
“No, sis…I’m…” His eyes transform into lifeless staring orbs, draining of warmth. His mouth stays poised, mid-speech.
“Bring him back, Thras. Come on. Bring him back.” My eyes brim with tears.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. He’s gone. His spirit is soaring toward the gods.” Thras looks at me with kind eyes, one nearly black, the other vivid green. As thundering footfalls barrel down the corridor, he adds, “I think we’d better jet.”
“No,” I say, my jaw set in determination.
“Come on, love, we’ll both be burned at the stake,” he says, gently guiding Reve’s body from his lap, and then getting to his feet. He extends his hand to me.
I join him, staring hard at the Climintra as they round the corner.
“Get them! There are the prisoners,” A stern-faced Climintra calls.
Red-clad figures rush at us.
“No!” I say, in a loud, clear voice, holding up my palm. “I have proof, right here in my pocket. You want to find out what’s really behind this whole debacle, you’re either going to have to force it from my dead body,
or let me take it to the Ama Seldova.”
I have no idea if I have proof or not, but the Climintra seem to be considering my words.
“She’s bluffing. Get her! Get them both,” one of them calls out. He lifts his segif and points it at me.
I flinch, inwardly as freaked as I’ve ever been in my life. Outwardly, I try to project calm confidence.
“No, she’s not,” Thras says, coming to stand next to me. He holds himself tall and proud.
A clear question rings through my mind.
Do you have proof?
I’m certain the thought came from Thras.
I don’t know. I think so, I answer.
“Let us present it to the Ama Seldova,” Thras says. He places his arms around my shoulder. “If she’s wrong, we’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit.”
Oh, great. Thanks. I roll my eyes.
“I say handcuff them. Let’s use them as an example,” the segif pointing guard says.
“No,” another guy says. He appears to be the leader. “Our agreements with the Ama Seldova are clear. Justice must prevail. Guards…” He turns and points at two of his men. “Take them to the top.”
As we’re being marched to who knows where, I nervously finger Reve’s com. I sure hope it holds some proof. If it doesn’t, Thras and I are as dead as my brother.
Chapter 32
It took hours to find the right person in charge to examine the evidence in Reve’s com. A few days passed while they poured over it, trying to decide what to do with us. They still kept us in the prison until everything got sorted. Finally, justice prevailed. We were released.
A manhunt ensued for Paki. They found his crumpled lifeless form next to Talon’s, in Talon’s luxury suite. His wife lay next to him, dead. They conjectured that the badly beat-up body of Paki tried to drain Talon and his wife in order to heal but it came as too little too late. Apparently Thras accomplished his mission—killing Paki once and for all.
We held a small ceremony for Reve. It was just the two of us—me and Thras. I cried, held in Thras’ strong, loving embrace. I can still sense my brother sometimes. Maybe I’ll get to see him in my dreams someday, the same way I saw mom.