Aliomenti Saga 6: Stark Cataclysm Page 5

  He peered over the rail and pulled back, sensing the intent to fire the weapon before the trigger was depressed. The bullet whistled by from below. He went silent, listening, and detected two distinct breathing patterns above. One below.

  He had better odds of escape moving down toward his car. He took the steps in silence, amused. He could generate more power than millions of the generator kegs, level the building and his ostensible attackers, including those who’d ordered the attack. He could target that Energy and turn the assassins to dust. He didn’t want to hurt the innocent, though. And Energy usage could bring the Hunters to him. He snorted internally. For all he knew, Porthos was on the other side of the world. The Hunter couldn’t detect minor Energy usage from across the globe. Could he?

  He wouldn’t chance it unless his life was in immediate jeopardy.

  He listened. The pair above remained immobile. The single attacker from below continued her stealthy ascent. Fil waited until she rounded the bend before attacking, hurling the heavy keg at his would-be assailant. She cried out in pain and collapsed on the landing below. Fil sprang at her and seized her gun. He flipped the safety mechanism on, slid the weapon inside his belt like a makeshift holster, and continued down the staircase.

  The sound of a door opening several levels below him jolted him. Another assassin? He breathed out a deep sigh, ruffling the front of his hair. Hope said Will always moaned about people trying to kill him. He was starting to understand the frustration.

  They knew he wanted to get to his car and leave the building. Yet there was a single assassin below him, with two above. Why would they make the obvious choice of an escape route the one he ought to take, based upon the number of people guarding each escape route?

  They wanted him to move toward the garage.

  He turned to head back up the stairs in silence as he divined their plan. Send single assassins from below. He’d vanquish each as they’d avoid engaging him, and he’d reach his parking spot. Had they already stolen the car? Wired it to explode when started? Tampered with his brakes to ensure an “accident” claimed his health or life?

  He didn’t know. But he knew that wasn’t the way out for him.

  He paused again, listening for movement. The two assassins above had started to move down the steps at a slow, agonizing pace. Perhaps they’d realized he’d figured out their plan and opted to remain in place. Draw attention to the assassination attempt by employees not involved in the effort. They’d altered their plans now, moving in a pincer movement to trap him on the stairwell landing between floors without the chance of escape. His Energy pulsed, straining against his skin and his Shield, and he felt the familiar burning sensation. The Energy demanded release to thwart his enemies. He closed his eyes to calm himself. He wouldn’t wipe out a city to smite three assassins.

  He then assessed his situation.

  The stairwells fit into condensed space; one would hit three landings moving between floors. He was trapped by the middle landing. None of the remaining assassins could see him yet. One of the assassins above had moved toward him at a more rapid pace. The assassin below had two full flights of stairs remaining to reach him. The landings extended beyond the stairwells like mini-floors. He could hide to the side of either stairwell, or beneath the one leading up. He slid off to the side of the stairwell leading up, out of sight of anyone descending, and waited in silence.

  He heard the footfalls of the first assassin from above moving toward his landing. The man stepped gingerly from the final step to the flat surface. The gun led the way as the assassin rounded the bend.

  Fil threw the keg at him.

  It missed.

  The assassin was distracted, not expecting his target to retaliate with apparent party supplies. Fil used the distraction and hurled himself at the armed man. Fil arrived before the assassin could aim his weapon and seized the man’s wrist. Fil might not look impressive to the man’s human eyes, but he possessed enormous strength. He bent the man’s hand back, preventing the assassin from firing the weapon. The man’s shock was tangible, and the smell of fear filled the landing.

  He heard the crack and the scream of pain at the same time. The man collapsed to his knees and seized his shattered wrist as Fil pulled the gun away. Fil slammed his knee into the side of the man’s head and watched to ensure the man lost consciousness. He stowed the weapon in the same manner as the first.

  Two down. Two to go. Or one if he moved quickly.

  The second attacker above him wasn’t moving; he couldn’t hear any footsteps or sense the feeling of anticipation of moving for the attack. Fil suspected she was waiting to engage Fil until her partner from below reached the landing. She must know he’d vanquished her partner and was waiting for reinforcements. Smart move.

  He didn’t want to let them succeed in engaging him two-on-one. Too much opportunity for him to be shot. If he moved up, he’d be shot. If he moved down, he might be able to reach the second assassin before he could draw his weapon and shoot Fil. Still too much of a risk.

  A new plan formed. He started to scream. “Stop! You’re going to break my leg! Stop!”

  He hoped the assassin above would believe Fil had screamed earlier, not her partner, and would move in to help subdue their target. Fil could subdue her, wait for the second assassin, and after taking care of that man move to the parking garage. He’d avoid his car, instead walking out of the complex.

  But she held back. The assassin below was getting closer; he could hear the faint footfalls on the metal stairs despite the man’s best efforts at silence. He couldn’t hear any breathing from the woman above, couldn’t hear her footsteps. Her thoughts had grown silent. Where was she?

  He panicked, unable to believe he couldn’t sense her presence. He risked peeking around the corner.

  Strong hands grabbed him around the neck and threw him down on the stairs. The pain sent shock waves through his body, and Fil cried out. The assassin wore a mask over her face, unlike the man who’d attacked him earlier. She straddled him on the steps and pressed a forearm against his throat, cutting off the flow of air to his lungs.

  He reached up and seized her wrists with both hands, just as the second assailant rounded the bend.

  “Good,” the newcomer said. “You’ve got him.”

  The woman who’d subdued him stood up, turned, and punched the newcomer in the face. The man cried out in pain before he fell back onto the concrete landing. His head hit the surface, and he fell still.

  The woman tore the mask from her face and dropped it on the ground before holding out her hand. “Get up. We need to get you out of here.”

  IV

  Escape

  2058 A.D.

  He couldn’t sense her emotions.

  Even after the woman in the mask leveled the second attacker, even after she offered a hand to help him up, his Energy couldn’t penetrate her mind. He could feel his breathing stutter as he tried to process this impossibility.

  She reached down, seized his forearm, and hauled him to his feet, then bounded up the steps ahead of him. Her feet fell silent against the metal steps, a tremendous display of physical control he’d not witnessed before. He started after her, his footsteps a comparative jet engine to her silence.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  She didn’t break stride. “We’re trying to escape from people who want you dead,” she hissed. “Save the questions for another time.”

  “But, how do I know—?”

  I know you can hear me, but I can’t hear you. You must trust me.

  He stumbled, his leg slamming against a metal step. He pushed himself back to his feet and accelerated after her, blocking out the pain.

  She knew he could read her thoughts?

  What in the world was going on?

  Distracted by the odd turn of events, he didn’t notice that she’d stopped until he ran into her. They tumbled to the concrete landing, both emitting grunts before climbing back to their feet.

  “Sorr
y,” he mumbled.

  Try to keep a bit more distance. Or use those Energy skills and anticipate when I’m going to stop.

  He couldn’t fathom what was going on. How could she know he could her thoughts but not have the ability to do the same? And why could he hear her now, but not before?

  She left him no chance to ask further questions. They raced up flight after flight of stairs, taking care to keep the sound of their footsteps silent.

  Use your senses to track anyone entering the stairwell. Most people here use elevators. If they open the stairwell doors, they probably mean us ill will.

  Five flights later, he sensed the next assassin as he entered the stairwell. But the man was five flights below them, and given the noise generated, not troubling to hide his presence.

  They expected you to head to the garage, and we tried to encourage you to head down. The core of the security team is waiting for you there. Their radios are off; they didn’t want you to hear anything that might alert you to the plan. It will take time to get a message to them. The man chasing us is an idiot; worry more about those waiting in the garage who’ll be angry when they hear what happened. We don’t want to engage with them. We need to keep moving.

  He didn’t argue.

  Even with his conditioning, he began to feel winded. Perhaps it was the grueling pace she set. Perhaps he wasn’t used to running up thirty flights of stairs while being chased by men and women with guns.

  I had to attack you to buy time. If I’d moved on my boss immediately, they’d be able to send Jenkins up ahead of us via elevator and cut off our only escape. Sorry about that.

  She seemed sincere. He couldn’t know with his usual certainty. She knew enough about him that he judged going along as his best course of action. If she was Aliomenti, he’d be able to fight with Energy… and that was a fight he’d win. He felt the Energy stirring, burning his skin, and he stifled his thoughts of open Energy warfare. For now.

  They reached the top of the staircase at last. The woman pulled a set of keys from a pouch attached to her waist. She flipped through them until she found the correct key and unlocked the door in front of them.

  Fil sensed the elevator a half-flight below open, spilling members of the security team. The men and women sprinted for the stairwell, racing up the stairs toward their targets.

  The woman shoved Fil through the door before locking it from the inside and breaking the key off inside the lock. She slammed the door just as the first of the security guards rounded the final landing and headed up the stairs.

  Fil steadied himself. The fierce winds forty stories off the ground buffeted him, surrounding him with a volume of noise startling in its intensity after ten minutes of near silent sprints up metal stairs.

  Once stabilized, he whirled on the woman.

  “Enough with the secrecy. Who are you?”

  She smiled. “Don’t recognize me, do you? It’s been a while.”

  Fil shook his head. “Should I? Recognize you, that is.”

  “Of course,” she said. She flipped her long hair forward, covering her face, and pulled the hair aside so he could see nothing but her eyes. “Does that help?”

  Recognition hit him. “Sarah? Sarah Swann?”

  His classmate and occasional date for dances flipped her hair back to its usual position and gave a slight bow. “In the flesh.”

  “What in the world… what are you doing here?”

  “I work here, of course. Security. But that’s just my public job.”

  “Your… public job.” He shivered for a moment. “I take it, then, that you have a non-public job that has something to do with what just happened here?”

  She nodded. “We should get someplace a bit more private before we go into more detail. Follow me, please.”

  She marched away from the door toward the edge of the building before climbing atop the half wall around the perimeter. Fil, still intrigued, climbed up next to her, wondering what she could possibly have in mind. She wasn’t transmitting thoughts at him, and once more he could read nothing of her thoughts or emotions.

  As he straightened to his full height, Sarah seized his arm and threw him over the side of the building.

  Fil barely had time to shout in surprise before his descent halted. Sarah landed next to him an instant later.

  He glanced around, and felt his jaw drop open.

  They’d landed inside one of the Alliance’s invisible flying craft. Sarah had known where the craft hovered, and had thrown him to precisely the correct spot.

  But how in the world did she know…?

  He turned to face her. “I am completely confused.”

  She smiled, her eyes full of sympathy. “I’ll bet that doesn’t happen often, does it?”

  He shook his head. “No.” He was too easily aware of thoughts and feelings of others. Her ability to block him… it made him feel less alive. Was this what it was like to be human? He considered reviewing his opinion of Energy as a curse. The thought raised an interesting question. “You… you knew I could hear what you thought. How do you know that? And why is it that you can’t do the same?”

  Sarah motioned for him to sit down. She sat in one of the seats—the navigator’s—and provided a course for the ship. Fil, who hadn’t moved, was hurled into one of the other seats as the craft accelerated. He shift around until he was properly seated and facing her. In the process, he could see that the vehicles had changed little since he’d last flown, save for the seats themselves. The material seemed gel-like, shifting slightly to conform to his body while promoting good posture. The large view screen showed a view outside. The controls looked unchanged as well.

  After checking the navigation path, Sarah swiveled around to face him. He marveled at the fact that this powerful woman was the girl he’d known in high school. After the encounter with the bullies at the lunch table, they’d had a comfortable, if distant, relationship. Neither of them was willing to be truly open. Fil knew his own secrets. Sarah had been unwilling to share her own, and he’d not been willing to admit he already knew them. They’d gone on a few dates, attended a school dance, and gradually gone their separate ways, unable to close the friendly chasm that had formed.

  Until now.

  “I’m part of the Alliance, just as you are. They recruited me after high school. I had no inherent talent, as my parents are both quite human, not well-known, immortal Energy masters.” She laughed at the look of shock on his face, eyes twinkling mischievously. “I’ve been everywhere, Fil. I’ve been to the Cavern and the ports. I’ve ridden in the subs and flown… obviously. I’ve studied Aliomenti and Alliance history. That’s how I know who you are, who your parents are, and what you can do.”

  He nodded. That part made sense. “But you can’t… do the same.”

  She shook her head. “I chose not to take the morange and zirple.”

  He blinked. That was unusual. He knew it was permissible in the Alliance to make such a choice, but had never heard of or met anyone who’d chosen that path. “I’m truly curious. Why not?” He hoped he hadn’t given offense.

  She shrugged in nonchalance. “I like to be challenged to the highest possible degree. I hid myself in high school, trying to avoid notice, trying to fit in by not sticking out. You were always nice to me, even if you didn’t really know who I was or anything about me. Always said hello, held doors, offered me a spare pen if I couldn’t find mine. That helped me to realize something as we started our final year. I hadn’t challenged myself in high school in any way. I just hid from everyone and everything. I didn’t stick my neck out to be nice to someone, or stand up for them. I was too frightened of the possible backlash that might come if I sided with the wrong person. I’d decided that day that I was going to change, to challenge myself in every way possible to the greatest degree possible. I’d tried avoiding everything, and I didn’t like myself as a result. What better way to work on being the new me, that day, than to stand up for you when those bullies came after you?” She s
hook her head. “I didn’t really understand everything. You were as open with me as you could be, given the nature of your secret. Me? I could never figure out how to open up. And we grew apart.”

  Her face turned serious. “After my recruitment, I learned about the power Energy users possess. I learned about you and your sister, learned that those boys only lived that day through a sheer test of will on your part. It made me realize that while power that great is its own challenge, obtaining power of that sort, even if to a much lesser degree, would feel like… I dunno, a cheat code. Do you know what those are?”

  Fil shook his head. “Not really.”

  She nodded. The view screen briefly distracted him; the scenery below them looked strangely familiar. He wasn’t certain where they were going. But he trusted her. “In video games, a cheat code basically lets you win without developing the deep skill required to do so. It would be a secret code to let you run much faster than everyone else, or gain ten times the strength you’d otherwise have, or be invincible to attacks by others. When I learned about the abilities I’d develop with Energy… it felt like a cheat code. And so I’ve chosen to play the game with my human limitations. It’s a challenge that I enjoy.”

  Fil stared at her. He felt inspiration at her story… and he was incredibly jealous.

  “I wish I could be you,” he said.

  She cocked her head. “Seriously? Why would you be jealous of me?”

  He nodded. “I wake to the sensation and smell of my skin burning from the inside each day. I can’t lose control, because if I do, if I’m angry… I knocked over a three hundred year old tree when I was six, Sarah, just by laughing at my dog.” He felt a lump in his throat; he’d never seen Smokey again, and missed her. “Nobody knows how much damage I would do now if I lost control while angry. And the buildup over time makes it worse. I have to find scutarium-shielded buildings and throw off as much Energy as I can as often as possible.” He shook his head. “I go to the Cavern and the people there, they think I’m special, that they want to be me. They think I’m lucky. I’m not lucky. I’m cursed.”