Chase thought he would've gotten used to the cold by now.
A year had passed, and the chilling winter air hadn't become any more bearable. In fact, he was pretty sure it got worse.
So much for global warming.
He had let his hair grow out over the last couple of months. It started off as a way to disguise himself from Atlas patrol units and videos, but he was starting to like how he looked with chin-length hair and a scruffy, dirty blond beard.
The current version of himself was indistinguishable from the one who had been fighting for Atlas three years prior.
A wistful sigh left his blue lips.
That was a long time ago. He was different now.
Everything was different now.
His teeth chattering, he rubbed his fingerless gloves together and continued trudging through the North Dakota snow. He wasn't sure how he and his group ended up in the Midwest. They started in Oregon, but the Atlas agents quickly forced them east. Eventually, they settled in the middle of nowhere in one of the most boring states in the country.
He didn't really mind, though. He preferred boring as opposed to being chased by those he once called his friends.
His jaw clenched at the thought. Three years later and it still stung like a stake to the heart.
Still, he didn't regret his decision. Especially after what had happened to the last three years. He didn't even recognize Atlas anymore. Once the PRA was signed, the United States military seized all operations—including the Prime Task Force.
Sighing, he continued stomping through the pine forest. White blanketed the needles, blocking the beaming sun in the gray sky. A breeze whistled through the massive trees, penetrating the many layers of clothes Chase wore. He grit his teeth and forced himself to keep going. Today's patrol wouldn't complete itself.
He and his group—which various news outlets had dubbed The Exiles—arrived in North Dakota a year ago. Before that, they spent a few months in Wyoming. And before that, they hid out in the mountains of Oregon.
Atlas and the Jaeger's—the new title for non-powered members of the Prime Task Force—were still hunting them down, desperate to throw them in The Vault, the prison for Primes in the Atlantic Ocean.
It was up to him to keep his people safe. They were counting on him.
Which is why he was out on patrol, checking the traps he and Archie set up around their underground bunker base. Tripwires connected to alarms back at headquarters lined the perimeter of the forest. A few CCTV cameras hidden in the trees relayed nonstop footage of their surroundings. If anything got close, Archie would be the first to know.
Their survival depended on it.
They had to remain alert and diligent at all times. Chase still remembered the last time they let their guard down. His jaw clenched at the memory.
Never again.
When they first arrived in North Dakota, they lucked up and found an abandoned bomb shelter. It was big enough to house them all and had enough canned food to last a few months. Whoever built it must have had a huge family, because there were more than enough rooms to house all of The Exiles. There was even space for them to store their van, which they had been lugging around since they went on the run. If it weren't for Andre's background in mechanics and car repairs, they might not have ever made it out of Oregon.
Everyone on the team played their part, though. Chase might have been in charge, but the others were just as important as he was.
Andre helped Archie with any mechanical issues around the bunker. Emily managed their weapons supply. Victor made sure everyone stayed on top of their training. Kai and Danai helped cook their meals.
Even the newbies who they rescued from Atlas convoys contributed however they could.
They had a good system going. Chase just hoped it would be enough to keep them out of harm's reach.
"Alright, Goldilocks, let's wrap this up," a gruff voice crackled through the walkie-talkie in the pocket of his winter coat.
He pulled it out and pressed the button on the side. "Copy that, Andre." Pausing, he took a look around him. None of the trip wires had been tampered with and the cameras were still in position. Patrol had gone relatively well. "You see anything out of the ordinary?"
"Negative, boss. All's good over here. How 'bout you?"
"Everything's good—"
A low, rumbling noise sounded in the distance. Snow shook from the pine needles before falling to the ground. Scrunching his features together, Chase whipped his head around in search of the sound.
"You hear that too right, boss?"
"What the hell is it?"
"No clue. But I've got a bad feeling."
"Get back to base. I'll be right behind you."
"Copy."
Andre's line clicked off. Nodding, Chase stuffed his walkie-talkie back into his jacket and continued searching for the source of the noise.
It grew louder with every passing second. The ground shook slightly, almost as if an earthquake was rippling beneath the snow-covered surface.
Then everything around him went dark. All the light in the air had been extinguished like a finger pressing against the wick of a candle. The little bit of warmth coming from the sun above vanished. As he lifted his head to the sky, his blue eyes widened with horror.
Passing above him like a tanker cutting through the ocean was a massive aircraft. Artillery cannons stuck out from the metal hull like the arms of a titan. The American flag, along with the United Nations logo, was emblazoned on the side. A vicious roar emitted from the aircraft's twin-engines as it ripped through the sky.
Cursing under his breath, Chase dashed beneath the leafy canopy of a pine tree. His heart leaped into his throat as he desperately hoped he hadn't been spotted. Despite the cold, his entire body felt like it was full of molten lava. Blood rushed to his cheeks, quickly turning his skin red.
Shit. Andre.
The guy had been out on patrol as well. Had he managed to hide as well? Or did the ship see him?
Fortunately, it didn't seem like any were true, as the aircraft continued going. Was it just on a routine scout of the area?
He shook his head. Why would Atlas be in North Dakota? The Exiles had lost them somewhere in Wyoming. They could've been anywhere in the country by now.
Hands trembling, he retrieved his walkie-talkie and pressed the button.
"Andre, you there?"
A painful second passed. His heart stopped.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm here. You saw that right?"
"Yep. Did it see you?"
"I don't think so. Hid under a fallen log."
The image of the guy's massive frame hiding underneath a log would've been hilarious under different circumstances. But the situation was too serious to laugh.
Chase released a breath that had been building in the pit of his chest.
"Alright, good."
"What do you think it was doing out here?"
He didn't answer. He didn't have one. There was only one explanation as to why an Atlas ship would be flying over their bunker. And that explanation rocked him to the core.
"Just get back to base, alright? We need to call a meeting."
"You got it, boss. See you in a bit."
Chase stuffed the walkie-talkie back into his pocket and took one look at the sky. The aircraft was now a simple dot in the white expanse. No alarms went off. No sirens. It seemed to be totally oblivious.
With a rueful shake of his head, he moved out from his hiding place and headed in the other direction back to base.
#
The bunker was called The Haven.
That's what it was to them—a safe haven. Without it, they likely would've frozen to death in the first winter they endured. It had been their home for a year now. And, if things went their way, it could've stayed their home for many more.
But with that aircraft intruding their airspace, Chase wasn't sure how much longer they could stay within The Haven's walls.
Upon reaching the entrance of the bunker, which was hidden deep in the woods in a dense area of trees, he removed the veil of roots and vines covering the door. After cranking the metal wheel, the door popped open. He slipped inside, but not before returning the veil over the opening.
He closed the door behind him and continued down the dark hall ahead. The faint smell of mold and mildew met his nose. Dust particles floating in the stale air. He barely even noticed it anymore. After spending months under the ground and within the walls of The Haven, he had gotten accustomed to the conditions.
Besides, things could've been a lot worse.
Chase's footsteps echoed around him as he approached the central room of the bunker. He could already hear Emily and Victor arguing about something. The two of them had been butting heads ever since they adopted the ex-Kismet member into their ranks.
It hadn't been a decision everyone agreed with, but Chase owed Pearce Shaw—the previous head of Atlas, their old mentor, and Victor's estranged father—a favor. He took it upon himself to make sure Victor didn't get nabbed by Atlas and thrown into The Vault for the rest of his life.
"—you never listen!" Emily shouted, her face tense and red.
"You never say anything worth listening to," Victor replied with a dismissive expression written across his sharp features.
"You're insufferable!"
"Right back at you."
Shaking his head, Chase entered the main room. An assortment of old furniture had been placed about the place. Ripped leather couches, chipped coffee tables, and even a broken foosball table. A television set from the nineties sat in the corner, equipped with a DVD player and a few movies. The kitchen, which was just a few cabinets around a hotplate and an archaic oven, was positioned off to the side.
"They're back everyone!" Isra announced.
The sixteen-year-old was one of the newer additions to the group. They heard about her on the news while moving through Iowa. She had been running from police officers after her parents tried giving her up to Atlas following the emergence of her abilities. They cornered her in a building under construction, with mysteriously collapsed around them.
The officers were all crushed under the rubble. But Isra hadn't even been touched. Not even the slightest of scratches.
Archie managed to track her down, and she had been running with them ever since.
"Anything new outside?" she asked as Chase walked past her. The girl's brown eyes were wide and hopeful.
They didn't get to go outside often, and when they did, it was only for patrols.
Chase opened his mouth to answer, but quickly stopped himself.
Should I tell them about what we saw?
He spotted Andre taking off his heavy jacket and resting it on the coat rack in the corner. The two of them locked eyes for a split second. The message on his face was loud and clear.
Faking a smile, Chase shook his head at Isra. "Nope. Same old, same old."
The girl pouted and dropped back onto the couch. "Nothing ever happens around here."
"You better be grateful for that."
Huffing, she returned to reading the tattered and faded magazine beside her.
Chase's smile faded as he glanced at Andre again. The other body nodded toward another corridor on the other side of the room—which led to Archie's workshop and the bunker's security room.
Right.
He didn't want to send the group into a panic by announcing a Jaeger warship flew over their base. After all, the aircraft might not have even seen them. When they moved into the bunker, Archie made sure they would be undetectable by even the strongest of scanners and radars. They were invisible. Ghosts to the system.
It could've been a mere coincidence that Atlas was flying over them.
As leader, it would've been irresponsible to throw the whole group into a frenzy for no reason. Before he filled everyone else in on what happened, he needed to have a talk with Archie.
"Andre, come with me," he said while moving toward the other corridor.
The big guy nodded and followed behind, rubbing his metal arm as he did so. Archie maintained the silver prosthetic whenever he could, but it was clear it needed some upgrades. The metal was beginning to rust in some areas and the dull material clashed against Andre's dark skin.
Chase still remembered the day he lost his arm. It was the same day the world changed forever.
His jaw clenched at the thought.
Victor Shaw, otherwise known as Apex, had been their sworn enemy back then. He fought for Kismet, who sought to plunge the world into chaos.
Now the guy was sleeping among them as an ally. It would've been too much of a stretch to call him a friend. They weren't there yet.
Chase wasn't sure if they would ever get to that point with him. He had caused them all too much pain—even if he did seem to be a changed man.
"How's the arm?" Chase asked as he and Andre made their way to Archie's room.
"Fine."
"You sure?"
Andre grunted and rubbed his plated shoulder. "I'm not going to complain. Besides, we've got better things to worry about than my arm."
"Right..."
The two of them arrived in front of the heavy, metal door that hid Archie's workshop. A mechanized lock sat in the center of the door, along with a keycode. Chase always thought the extra security was a little overboard, but when they had someone like Mateo living among them, it was better to be safe than sorry.
The shapeshifter, another new addition to the group, could squeeze in anywhere. He was also a bit too curious for his own good.
Andre knocked on the door with his metal fingers. The clanging noise echoed through the dimly lit hall.
A moment of silence passed before the mechanical lock disengaged, opening the door in the process. The sound of wheels squeaking against the concrete floors filled Chase's ears. Seconds later, he spotted Archie's green eyes staring back at him.
"Was wondering when you guys would visit me."
"You saw it too, right?" Chase asked.
Archie snorted. "Of course I saw it. I spend all day looking at these screens. You think I wouldn't notice a giant warship flying above us?"
Andre stifled a laugh. Chase simply rolled his eyes at the boy.
"No need to be a smartass."
"I'm afraid that's not in my coding."
Shaking his head, Chase entered the room and helped wheel Archie back over to his desk. Andre closed the door behind them before trailing behind. The three of them arrived in front of the assortment of screens mounted on the gray wall on the other side of the room.
Aside from the screens and a few tables, the room was pretty much empty. The shadows on the walls and the distant humming of the server boards stacked inside a closet in the corner brought an eerie atmosphere to the space.
Chase got chills whenever he stepped foot in the place.
Rubbing his arms, he took a look at Archie's collection of screens.
Feeds from the various cameras outside were being relayed on one while another played news clips from local and national channels. The others were either deactivated or playing Archie's screensaver—which was a scratched-out image of Atlas' logo.
"Do you think the ship saw us?" Chase asked.
"Can't be sure," Archie answered. "But I tapped into the communication center onboard to see if they were sending out any external signals. So far, they haven't sent for any backup or alerted headquarters about any bunker."
"So...we're in the clear?"
"I wouldn't say that..."
Sighing, he slid his hand over his face. The nerves were starting to set in.
If they had been spotted, they would have to evacuate as quickly as possible. Atlas was known for springing attacks when they were least expected. What if the ship had seen them, but was just playing it cool so they didn't suspect anything?
At the same time, the ship could've just not seen them.
"I'll keep monitoring the situation," Archie told him while typing on his keyboard.
Chase turned to Andre. "You think we should tell the others?"
He shrugged his wide shoulders. "Your call, boss."
"I hate when you do that, dude. How are you going to be my number two without ever giving me any feedback?"
He snorted.
"You really want my opinion?"
"I asked you, didn't I?"
"Keep this quiet. At least until we know more."
Chase went silent. It made sense. There was no point in making everyone else nervous—especially if it was for no reason. And he already knew what would happen if he told Victor. The man would be screaming at them all to pack up their things and get right into the van. He didn't take any chances. The word risk might as well have been a curse to him.
He couldn't have Victor unsettling the others.
"Alright, we'll keep it under wraps for a bit."
Andre nodded. The two of them shook hands and turned back to Archie.
"You let us know if anything comes through, okay?" Chase told him.
"Will do."
Chase and Andre moved toward the door of the workshop. As soon as they opened it, their eyes widened.
Standing in front of them with her arms folded across her black tank top was a very pissed off Emily.
"Uhhh..."
"Don't 'uhhh' me," she snapped. "You do know these rooms aren't soundproof right? Or did you forget I have superhuman hearing?"
Andre cursed under his breath.
Chase facepalmed.
"Now," Emily said, her hands now placed on her hips, "tell me everything."