Rise of Order

Part 4

Except they will. Because of the tracker.

"Give it up, boys," said Nia. Every head turned toward her. Dried blood was splattered on her purple chin. "We'll get them to spare your lives. My mom works for a government security company—she'll put in a word if I ask her. You'll get a government trial, maybe you'll walk. But only if this ends now." She looked at Wingate, then at me. Something in her eyes sparkled with triumph despite her predicament. She knows about me. Too smart for her own good.

"Your mommy ain't the forgiving type, I'm sure. Gregory Freder sure as hell isn't. Only one way out of this for us," Wingate said. He pulled something out of a black canvas bag—short rods of some kind. To his men, he yelled, "Get moving"

A blinding flash of lightning ripped through the warehouse. The air tingled and sizzled, and one of Wingate's men gasped. There was a hole with the circumference of a dollar coin clean through his chest, wisps of smoke rising as his flesh smoldered. He toppled to the ground.

Everyone froze except Wingate, who ran toward the open garage door. Outside, men in olive combat fatigues, each of them wearing a black helmet with a dark visor that covered the upper portion of their faces, filled the street. They carried rifles, strange ones with short, stubby barrels.

"Force weapons!" someone screamed.

"Everyone cover your eyes!" shouted Wingate as he tossed one of the rods outside, dropping to the ground as he did so. A moment later he hurled another. I turned away, waiting for an explosion, but there was none. Instead, light became day, or something like it. An ugly white blaze blanketed the area outside the warehouse, its luminescence so intense that even facing the opposite direction and shielded by the warehouse walls, I had to squint.

"They've all got night vision on," Wingate said with satisfaction. "The whole damn lot of them should be blinded by the flares."

He tossed something else. "Move!"

This time there was an explosion. The ground shook, and debris fell from the ceiling. I found myself smiling for some reason. I turned away when I saw Nia watching me. I shouldn't have been enjoying this.

"Let's get out of here before the next group arrives." Wingate didn't spare a glance at the dead man lying on the floor, his body steaming like dinner.

"No way," I yelled at him. "We're not going anywhere."

He turned to me, his eyes tight. Annoyed. Puzzled.

"You'll have to drag me," I said.

Wingate got it. He grabbed my arm, and I allowed myself to be hurled forward toward the escape tunnels with the others. I pretended to stumble.

"Get up," he barked even as he knelt next to me. The others carried on ahead of us, the girls herded by Wingate's three remaining men.

"Macey's got an emergency transmitter," I hissed. "Left forearm. Your scanner didn't pick it up."

"Deuces," he said. "That's how they found us. But it'll work out."

Those deep green eyes made a calculation: no one really mattered except Macey. The drug inside me urged a slightly different conclusion.

"Bring Nia too," I said.

"Her? She's a trouble-maker. Why?"

I searched for a suitable excuse. "She knows about me."

I could tell he was thinking about saying no, but he nodded instead. He hauled me up then shoved me toward the bathrooms; I didn't bother feigning resistance. Wingate already had his blade out, and the residual glow from the flares made the knife gleam as if it were made of light rather than steel.

"I need to do a little work on you. Pretend I'm your new alterator," he said to Macey. "Ace, hold her still. Left arm. Rip the sleeve. Keep her arm straight out."

Red Bandana grabbed Macey like she was a piece of meat. She thrashed as he carried out Wingate's instructions. He rammed a fist into the small of her back—not as hard as he could have, but hard enough. Macey gasped for breath. Wingate was as quick and precise as a surgeon. He ran his fingers along the smooth, tender skin of Macey's forearm, stopping when he found the transmitter. He tapped the spot with his index finger, then brought up the knife and sliced. Macey screamed so loudly my hair stood on end. Blood dripped from her arm onto the floor, and a metal disk no bigger than my thumbnail fell to the ground. Wingate looked at me with knowing eyes. I nodded.

"One problem solved," he said. "Polly, take those two down the left tunnel. You lead the way. We're right behind you." Wingate's men yanked Ellen and Wilma forward, but he stayed where he was. He wrapped his arm around Red Bandana. "Ace, we're taking a detour. You got it?"

Ace watched the other men as they went on ahead. "Got it, boss."

"Grab the short girl with the sharp mouth. She's coming with us too."

Ace looked at me. "What about that one?"

"She's with us. She arranged all this."

Ace's eyes grew wide, the side of his mouth twisting with skepticism. I held his gaze, my fingers stretching. Try to touch me now.

"Get going," Wingate told him. Ace went.

I snapped my bands, grabbed the transmitter from the ground, and ran after the others. I stepped into a tiny room that had once been a lavatory but was now a torn-apart space with a few cracked tiles on the walls and a dark gaping hole in the floor. One of the abductors had already disappeared into the tunnel, and Ellen was lowering herself down a metal ladder, the tip of a stun stick just above her head urging her downward. Wilma was inches away, staring into the pit as if it led to Hades. I stumbled into her, pretending I'd been pushed. It was easy to slip the disk into her pocket; I could have put a snake in there. She was nearly paralyzed with fear, and I told myself she deserved this terror—maybe she'd learn something from it.

The bandana crew shoved her into the hole.

Wingate appeared at the threshold. "Just follow the tunnel. Get moving. We're coming." No one wanted to linger; the v-copter's engines were still roaring outside the warehouse. Soon only Ace, Macey, Nia, Wingate, and I were left on the surface.

"Now what?" I asked.

"We do what we need to do." Wingate's tone was grim. He flicked a couple of fingers on his visered hand. An explosion rumbled beneath us, the floor shaking. Wingate grabbed me as I stumbled.

"The only way for them to go is forward. That hole leads into an old sewer tunnel; they should come out near a canal bed about a thousand yards from here. I won't cover this hole—those soldiers will assume everyone went down it. We'll close the other hole behind us."

"What about your people down there?"

"They knew the risks."

"Cold-blooded."

"Those girls were your classmates, but you led them into this."

"They aren't going to end up dead," I said. "Those Southies down there can still identify you. They know your face."

Wingate shrugged. "We're here for the same thing. Don't worry about me. Let's get this over with."

Wingate jerked his head, indicating that we should head for the other tunnel. Ace had his ugly fingers wrapped firmly around Nia's arm. He yanked her into the adjacent room.

"They need to climb—cut the cords off their wrists. There's no place to go down there," Wingate ordered.

When everyone's arms were free, Wingate grabbed Macey and pushed her toward the tunnel entrance. Her sleeve was soaked in blood. She turned her head, staring at me with wide eyes, her mouth moving but not speaking. I should have felt worse, I think. But I was numb. I owed her nothing. She would have done the same to me.

This was the world that she and those like her had made.

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