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Aliomenti Saga 6: Stark Cataclysm Page 13
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So what could it be?
The Energy wave hit her. Her spirit crumbled beneath an overwhelming sense of loss, so deep and profound that she temporarily lost the will to live. She recognized the Energy sound that accompanied that feeling.
It was Fil. Something had happened, something awful, to trigger that type of emotion and Energy release.
She forced herself to stand, to think, to move. She thought he’d been at home in Minnesota, but his Energy had reached her here, blasting her as it rushed past toward the west.
He’d been somewhere east of here when he’d reacted to whatever horror he’d experienced. That meant he’d been flying above the ocean.
Or he’d been on a boat.
She looked at the darkness in the distance, processed all available information, and recognized the disastrous truth.
She had lives to save before the wave arrived. The massive tsunami hurtled toward them, a raging torrent of water that would destroy everything in its path. Her enhanced senses had picked it up, but how many others knew? She had the abilities to escape, as did the Aliomenti at Headquarters. But what of the humans? Could she save them all? Could she save any?
Her breath caught in her throat. What of the remaining Alliance captives in the Aliomenti prison?
She’d break their usual rules of concealment and save as many human and Alliance lives as possible. With luck, she’d survive and be able to offer her nephew the solace and comfort he’d need to overcome whatever he’d experienced that led to his explosive reaction.
She boarded her ship and flew directly into the human village before teleporting into the main street. She dropped her Shield and projected out to all a sense of urgency, a message of what headed their way. They had personal ground cars used to reach entertainment districts. They’d need them to get to the western shore of the island where the transport boats waited. The boats had no more chance to survive the coming wave than they did… but if it flattened out upon hitting the eastern shore, the boats might be able to stay afloat long enough for help to arrive.
Marjorie, like the others, burst from her home and ran for the communal fleet of ground cars. She froze at the sight of Gena, turned, and stared. “Who are you? Why do you look like me?”
“Shut up!” Gena snapped. “Didn’t you hear? Get to the boats. Now! Don’t worry about possessions or what someone looks like. If you want to survive, go now!”
Marjorie opened her mouth to argue, but her survival instinct overrode her curiosity. She sprinted down the street with the crowds. Gena watched, ensuring they maximized the number of people in each car. Once assured they were progressing in an efficient manner, she popped back into the flying craft and flew at high speed to Headquarters. She still wanted to keep the lowest possible Energy profile; the Hunters might stay behind just to thwart her efforts to save those most at risk. She popped out of the craft at the front door of Headquarters, raced into the lobby, and pulled the fire alarm handle. Lights flash, loud klaxons blared, and the startled workers looked around before moving toward the exits. They’d see the massive caravan of ground cars racing toward the docks, and a few phone calls between friends working and those who’d been at home would ensure everyone moved toward the boats.
She looked at the elevators and spotted the private car that traveled to the lower levels. Guards focused on channeling traffic toward the nearest exits, leaving no one to question her as she moved toward the gold-plated doors. She phased out and walked into the car, well aware she’d never figure out how to activate the car in time. Escaped prisoners reported that the sixth level housed the cells, and she slammed the button, springing from the car the instant the doors open.
“I heard the fire alarm was pulled above.” She turned around, facing a member of the Aliomenti she’d never seen before. “Any idea what’s happening?”
“Sounds like a bad fire,” Gena said. “It may get warm in here for a while. You should leave now. Tell as many people as you can.”
The woman nodded. “Will do.” She paused. “Shouldn’t you be leaving as well?”
“I left a few things down here that I need to grab. I’ll be out shortly.”
The woman nodded and vanished.
Gena sighed. The rank-and-file members acted rationally for the most part. Told of a threat, they acted to save their lives. The Hunters would see something suspicious in her actions, her words, her tone, and would try to detain her. She shook her head.
She jogged down the long, dimly lit hallway, looking for anything resembling a prison or prison cells. When she reached the end of the hallway, she found a door labeled “Traitors.” She blasted a hole through the door and climbed inside. She encountered no resistance, just a sense of doom and despair from those long held captive. They’d thinned the prisoner ranks, though, subtlety over time, even as the Hunters used less subtle methods to add new names to the cell rosters.
The time for subtlety by the Alliance was over.
Gena summoned her Energy and used it to disintegrate the first occupied cell. The material resisted, absorbing much of the Energy she used. It took time, but she managed to tear a man-sized hole through the barrier. She reached in and pulled the man out. His eyes were wide, not comprehending what was happening. She gave him a one second telepathic message that explained everything. He understood.
While the weakened, Energy-less former captive looked for tools to open cells, Gena worked cell-by-cell, pushing Energy into the material until she overwhelmed the cell door’s capacity and created sufficient room to extract each prisoner. The first escaped prisoner found a key, and began moving around opening doors while Gena continued her own process. It was exhausting work, especially knowing the wave would overwhelm the island in only minutes.
She expended Energy into each of the freed prisoners, jumpstarting their own Energy stores, helping them to regenerate their own skill. She was fading, exhausted. She needed to rest, but there was no time for concern over that. Others needed help far more than her.
“Everyone needs to head upstairs. Look for humans who seem unaware of what’s happening, and get them to the boats at the dock. Stay with them. Make sure any Aliomenti who try to get in the way aren’t able to do so. Don’t worry about revealing Energy skills now. The Aliomenti know, and the humans… we’ll worry about memories later. Just save as many as you can.”
Those who could teleported to the upper floors, taking with them those not yet restored enough to move themselves. Most Aliomenti would have learned of the impending tidal wave telepathically by now, and undoubtedly they’d taken to their own aircraft to get out ahead of the wave. The humans would be left behind.
It had been only ten minutes since she’d left the human settlement, but her fatigue made it seem like hours.
“Help me.”
The voice was faint. She’d barely heard it as she’d prepared to teleport to the upper floor. “Where are you?”
“Please help me.”
She oriented on the voice, moved down one row of cells toward the sound. How had the missed someone? It didn’t seem—
Hands grasped her around the neck, an immaterial sensation compared to the crushing pressure of Energy ripped from her. She felt her consciousness retreating inside, her awareness from beyond the traditional five senses vanishing. She was devolving back to her human origins, back to a time when she was waiting tables in Pleasanton, to a time when Will Stark was a mere philanthropist tycoon.
She screamed in frustration. She had to survive, to get back to the family she knew, to save those she could save this day.
“How dare you,” Aramis hissed, squeezing tighter. “You thought you could enter our building and get away unscathed?”
“The… wave,” Gena gasped. “Trying… to save… people… from the… wave.”
“What are you talking about?” Aramis snapped. “What wave are you talking about?”
She felt relief as Aramis’ hands left her… and then they seized her once more.
“
Aramis, let go. We need to leave.” Porthos had appeared beside them, his trademark hooded cloak swirling as he worked to pry Aramis from Gena. “There’s a massive tsunami headed toward this island. Someone let loose an explosion of Energy that dwarfs what Stark did forty years ago. The water’s propelled by it. This building is going to be destroyed, and if you stick around, you’ll be buried under twenty feet of sea water.” His fingers scraped at Gena’s neck, drawing blood, as he worked to pry Aramis’ fingers with renewed vigor. “She’s drained, you fool. Leave her. Let the ocean claim her for her crimes. We need to get to the ship.”
She could feel the hesitation in Aramis’ grip, but at last he let go, and a fractional second later they were gone.
The relief was short-lived.
She could feel the wave in the floor beneath her feet, feel the vibrations around her as the wall of water smothered the island in a crushing embrace, splintering buildings, ripping trees from the ground, burying the land under water and silt. Her Energy finally reached a sufficient amount to allow teleportation, she moved to the surface outside Headquarters.
She would make it. She would summon the craft, climb aboard, and make it back to the Cavern. She’d help Angel master time travel, comfort Fil in his time of need, and look to deepen her relationship with Adam.
Her hand slapped at an empty pocket.
She looked to the east and saw the wall of water hurtling toward her.
She tried to teleport into the craft, hoping that the GPS chip inside her had directed the ship in her direction. But she didn’t move. She didn’t have enough Energy. And she realized that she’d never swallowed the chip, not after arriving and learning that Marjorie would undergo the exit interview.
She was trapped.
She refused to cry, to curse her fate. She’d fight to the very end, try to stay alive until her Energy regrew, or… something. None of the Alliance was nearby; they’d all gone, shuttling the humans into the boats, prepared by group effort to aid the natural buoyancy of the ships to withstand the initial onslaught of water.
They’d never hear her faint cry for help.
She moved west, jogging as fast as her fatigued body would allow. Her shoe slapped concrete, then concrete, and then she heard it splash. The wave knocked her forward and swept her up, burying her in seawater. She found enough Energy to propel herself to the new surface and expel the water she’d swallowed, and she treaded water, keeping her mouth and nostrils in contact with the precious air her lungs screamed to breathe.
She watched, in a bemused manner that belied her precarious condition, as the golden letter A formerly adorning the Headquarters building floated by. The scent of salt was powerful, wrinkling her nose, making her want to sneeze, an act she fought. A sneeze would duck her head beneath the water, and she might not come back up. Her arms began to lose feeling, her legs began to lose the ability to kick and keep her head above water, and a burst of self-pity ripped through her.
Her concentration lapsed. Her head slipped beneath the water, and she swallowed deeply.
She tried to draw in air, to cough, to expel the water from her lungs, but she couldn’t summon the strength to propel herself back above the surface. Her arms moved slower, her legs stopped moving at all.
She knew it was the end.
As she let go, as she opened her mouth to let the water claim her as quickly as possible, she dug deep, found the last slivers of Energy, and fired out a telepathic message of love to those she’d leave behind.
And then everything went dark.
XI
Resolve
2070 A.D.
He could remember nothing but the void, a place without sight or sound or smells. The void was all around him. He fell for what seemed an eternity, couldn’t remember reaching the bottom. At some point, the sensation of falling ceased. He remembered nothing until consciousness returned in this place. Whatever this place was.
He could feel soothing Energy around him. The sound signal seemed familiar, but he couldn’t think of the owner. He was laying down on a comfortable mattress, and cool, clean air brushed against his skin.
He could feel all of his limbs. Nothing seemed broken or damaged. He couldn’t remember being attacked or hit or shot. Why did he full a dull ache all over?
The images sprang into his mind. Images of Sarah and Anna, bound and gagged, Anna’s bindings destroying her Energy. The maniacal assassin Abaddon with the red-streaked eyes.
The knives slicked with blood after the assassin had plunged them into the hearts of those he loved most.
He sat up and screamed.
Strong hands seized him and fought to break free. The hands were firm, but didn’t look to injure him. He felt the Energy around him change, felt a soothing calm in its embrace. He let his screams fade. He opened his right eye in a tight squint before shutting it again, then gradually opened the eye as his pupils adjusted to the bright lighting in the room. With the right eye opened, he repeated the process with his left. He blinked a few times, letting his dried eyes coat with tears, and then looked around.
He was in a sterile white room, resting upon a narrow elevated bed. He turned to his left. Adam sat in a chair, unmoving, staring at the unconscious form of… someone. He couldn’t see the face, but the emotion of despair emanating from his former “grandfather” was strong.
“It’s been a brutal twenty-four hours, Fil,” a familiar voice said quietly. “We all need a chance to recover.”
Fil said nothing for a moment. He turned and looked into the tired, sad blue eyes of the Mechanic, who sat in a chair similar to that used by Adam. “Sarah, Anna… they’re…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. Couldn’t say the word.
“We’ve lost many people over the past day,” the man replied with some delicacy.
The feeling of failure returned. It was his penance, remembering his failure, the look in their eyes as their captor succeeded while their supposed protector failed. Death would have been merciful. He’d wanted to die.
Why was he here?
Intuitively, he knew he hadn’t saved himself. Someone had helped. He didn’t know who. Or why.
His eyes detected the movement to the side. Angel. Her face was lined with worry and grief, the usual youthful exuberance erased from her face. Her eyes lit up briefly at the sight of Fil sitting up. She moved to him, threw her arms around him, buried her face into his shoulder, and sobbed.
“What happened?” His voice was raspy. How long had he slept?
The Mechanic and Angel looked at each other, sharing a silent message he didn’t bother to intercept. His sister looked at him. “You were falling. We got to you before the water took you forever.”
Water? He could remember falling, remembered the never-ending void, but water? “You should have left me to the water. I don’t deserve to live. I… failed them.”
“Stop. Now.” Her voice cracked. He expected her to switch to telepathy, but Angel had decided this message was one he needed to hear with his ears. “Mourning is essential. Self-flagellation will help no one. And there are so many who need our help.” She paused. “Who need your help.”
Help? Who would need help, especially from him? “I don’t… understand.”
Her pained look morphed to one of pity. “You don’t remember what happened at all, do you?” She shook her head. “Tell me the last bit you remember.”
He thought, searching through memories he wished someone would erase. “I was at the office. I got a call from Judith. They couldn’t find Sarah or Anna. I got a delivery from… the new Assassin. He used the tablet to talk to me. I saw them, Angel. They were trapped somewhere. Anna had some kind of dampering vest on. They were tied down on beds. I couldn’t sense them, couldn’t find their location. He offered to tell me, but… but instead… he…” He swallowed hard. “He gave me the location. I didn’t get there in time to save them.” He sniffled his nose, wiped away the tears.
Angel swallowed. “I know what you saw. Do remember what happened befo
re he showed you… where they were?”
He thought. “I teleported. A lot. And then—”
“You teleported from the southeastern part of Minnesota to a place hundreds of miles away. And then you repeated the process. A dozen, maybe two dozen times.” It wasn’t a question; her tone suggested she was trying to draw an answer out of him, something he didn’t want to know.
He searched his memory. Flashing images of cities. The frequent displacement of teleportation to reach each location. Abaddon’s taunts. His empty search each time for a whisper of Anna’s Energy. He looked at her and nodded.
“You remember nothing after your… final discovery?”
“No.”
The look of pity returned.
She moved away, pacing around the room. He wasn’t the empath she was, but he’d lived long enough to recognize that she needed to tell him something. But she had no desire to do so. An awful thought occurred. “Wait… what did I… did I do something, Angel?”
She paced a moment longer before stopping, taking a deep breath, and then moved over to stand next to him. “Do you know what the longest recorded teleportation was, prior to what you did?”
What you did? The words were ominous. “Something similar?”
She sighed. “Eva once teleported Judith to the South Beach port. She was perhaps four hundred or five hundred miles away at the time. You teleported roughly that distance on a short hop yesterday. Sometimes multiples of that hop.”
Fil swallowed. “I did?” But when he thought about it, it made sense. His mind assembled jumbled memories together, and found truth in her words. “I did.”
She nodded, seeing the recognition in his face. “Your mental state when you use Energy… taints it. Anything you emit has that emotion embedded. Eva’s emotion was altruistic, a great desire to help. The Energy she gave off from her starting point? It knocked a few people down, but otherwise did no harm. When Dad… called the Hunters to Pleasanton, he gave off a lot of Energy as well. But he wasn’t angry. He only wanted them to come to Pleasanton and do what needed done. That’s why the house and the city didn’t so much as shake, even though his Energy reached all the way to Headquarters Island.”