Authors: Simone Pond
“What is it, Strader?” he asked, irritated.
“I see something in one of the windows. The second cabin from the left. See it?”
He studied the area and nodded for Missakian and Blythe to move closer in. He addressed the team. “There might be someone out there. Not sure how many. Could be just one sniper, or a whole gang.”
“One of us should draw out whatever it is,” said Missakian.
“I’ll do it,” said Grace, looking at Lucas.
He shook his head. “No way. We need you on medical in case someone gets hit.”
“Come on, sir. Give me a chance.”
He looked at Blythe and Missakian, who were both shaking their heads, not wanting Grace to steal their thunder.
“I promise I won’t screw this up,” she begged. “For the team,” she added.
“Fine, but don’t try to be the hero—that will bite you, and the rest of us, in the ass.”
“Just cover me.” Grace felt a charge of energy and couldn’t help but smile. Finally, a chance to prove herself and get out from under. He tried to play it hard, but she saw a flicker in his eyes. Maybe they both needed a win.
“Don’t screw this up, shitbird.” Blythe knocked the back of Grace’s head with her Browning automatic.
“I’ll signal if it’s okay to move in,” Grace told the others before crawling to the edge of the trees and assessing the situation.
There was no sign of movement in the rickety village. She removed a scalpel from her bag and tucked it into her waistband. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing. If she were going down, at least she’d be standing up. She emptied the rest of the bag’s contents onto the ground and shoved a heavy rock inside. Lucas watched with curiosity. This was her moment to shine. She stepped to the edge of the forest and flung the bag out toward the cabins while keeping an eye on the window. She noticed the red patch had disappeared. Someone was definitely out there. But no shots were fired. She hoped whoever it was didn’t have a weapon as she sprinted toward the cluster of cabins, taking cover behind the closest one. Still no shots. The cabin in question was less than fifty feet away. She needed to loop around to the back and sneak up on the target. Low to the ground, she crawled the length of the cabin, then jumped up and darted across the path to the back. She waited by the opening, holding her scalpel low by her side, ready for attack. A streak of red shot across the room and dove behind a pile of bricks where a woodburning stove used to be.
“Got you cornered,” Grace said, inching her way over toward the pile.
“Don’t hurt me, please.” The voice was soft and high, like a child.
“Come out,” Grace ordered.
A young girl wearing a red coat inched her way out from behind the pile. She had scraggly brown hair and dirt stains on her sunken cheeks. She seemed harmless, but Grace kept her guard. She knew better.
“What are you doing here?” Grace asked.
“They left me,” she cried.
“Who?”
Before the girl spoke, Blythe barreled into the cabin, aiming her rifle. When she noticed the little girl, she broke out laughing and slapped Grace’s back.
“Nice work, soldier. Caught yourself a ten-year-old.” Blythe walked over to the girl and squatted down. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
Grace noticed the girl had one of her hands behind her back. She lunged forward, knocking the girl backward, and pinned her to the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?” yelled Blythe.
“Saving your ass.” Grace slammed the girl’s left hand against the ground until she released the knife.
Blythe picked up the knife and tucked it into her belt.
“I didn’t wanna do it,” the girl cried.
“Do what?” Grace kept the girl pinned to the ground and patted her down for any other weapons. There was something metal under the girl’s coat. Grace yanked open the coat and panic gripped her chest—the girl was a ticking bomb.
“Blythe, get outta here and clear the area.” Sweat dripped down Grace’s forehead onto the girl’s dirt-stained cheeks.
“That’s some messed up shit, using a kid like that. Good luck with this one—hope you don’t spray chunks.” Blythe ran from the cabin.
“What’s your name?” Grace carefully rolled off the girl.
“Louisa,” she whimpered.
“Okay, Louisa, I need you to stay where you are and remain still. I’m gonna defuse this thing. Close your eyes and think good thoughts.”
The girl nodded and closed her eyes.
Grace examined the device to see what she was working with. The thing was like an ancient artifact. The metal box had a small clock attached to the front with wires coming in and out. Two minutes before the long hand struck twelve . . . Dismantling bombs wasn’t her area of expertise, but she had studied all types of explosives back home. She’d need to cut one of the wires without tripping the tilt switch and interrupting the current. If she cut the wrong one, she’d activate the detonator and blast both of them to pieces—and the fallout would probably hit the others. The ticking clock drummed in Grace’s ears. There were too many wires. She didn’t want to cut the wrong one and screw up the mission. She’d have to go another route.
“What are you thinking about, Lou?”
“My mommy,” she whispered.
Grace thought about her mom for a quick flash. She’d be so proud of Grace handling the situation.
“Plan B. I’m cutting this thing off of you. We don’t have a lot of time, so as soon as it’s off, run as fast as you can. Okay?”
Louisa squinted her eyes. “Okay.”
Grace used the scalpel and began cutting through the leather shoulder straps. The ticking grew louder by the second. After she finished with the straps, she still had to cut through the one around the girl’s chest. Less than a minute. Her heartbeat was competing with the ticking clock. Finally, it was free.
“You ready?” Grace gently lifted the metal box up and Louisa rolled away. “Run!”
Louisa ran through the front of the cabin. Grace stood up and made her way through the back into the woods, away from the others. She looked down just as the timer had run out. She clutched the metal box and dove to the ground—the explosion ripped through her chest, blasting chunks of her body through the trees . . .
Grace shot up in her chair, clutching her heart. She remained there with her eyes closed until her adrenaline slowed down and she could take in a full breath. Not the ending she had in mind, but at least she had saved the little girl and her team. She hoped her bravery would count for something.
Missakian came up out of the virtual. “Tough call, Strader.”
“Ha! I knew you’d spray chunks.” Blythe sat up in her chair, laughing.
She didn’t care what these two knuckleheads thought; she wanted to hear what Lucas had to say. He opened his eyes and sat up, not saying a word.
Grace couldn’t wait another second. “So, how’d I do, sir?”
“You did okay,” he said casually.
“That’s it?” Grace was hoping for a more enthusiastic response.
“I’m sure it might have helped
your
scores, but . . .”
“But still wasn’t good enough for you.”
Grace stood up and stomped toward the door, hoping to escape before Lucas saw her tears of embarrassment. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back into the room. Missakian and Blythe quickly exited the Delta training room before it got too heated. The door slid shut, sealing Grace and Lucas into a cocoon of awkward silence. He was still holding onto her arm, his fingers digging into her bicep. Her face caught on fire and hot tears filled her eyes, but she was too unraveled to care. He released her arm and took a moment to calm down.
“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” she said, rubbing her arm.
“You’ve got a bad attitude. Totally incapable of being part of a team.”
“I just saved my team.”
“No, you got yourself killed. How is that saving the team?” Lucas shook his head.
“What do you have against me?”
“You have it all wrong, Grace.”
That was the first time he had called her
Grace
all week. The way he said her name revealed his truth—he may have said he wanted to keep it professional, but everything about the way he was looking at her wasn’t. He had been bluffing. But why? To keep her in check? To play the team leader role without his feelings getting in the way? It was time to recalibrate the scales. She faced her opponent, looking for the weakness. She remembered his right ankle and walked over to him, stepping in close and forcing him to the right. She blocked his foot, tripping him, and he stumbled backward a bit.
“What are you doing? This isn’t a match, Grace.”
“If anyone has it all wrong, it’s you.” She pressed him against the wall. “Sir,” she added sarcastically.
He grabbed her shoulders and stared into her eyes. Without another word, he pulled her toward him and kissed her, long and hard. Their bodies locked against each other like two magnets. The temperature rose. Grace thought her heart would rip through her chest and splatter all over him. She lost her breath and gravity all at once. The room was silent except for the sound of their breathing. Finally, she pried herself away. He reached out to pull her back over, but she edged backward to the door, smiling. She saluted him and left the Delta training room. It wasn’t the win she was looking for, but it would do.
*
When Grace got back to her room, she decided to contact her father. It had been a week since she had talked with her mentor, and she needed some advice and, more importantly, some encouragement. Every soldier needed a little reassurance from time to time.
Her father’s hologram appeared and Grace sat down on the bed, resisting the urge to hug his image. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“How do you know something’s wrong?”
“You’re my daughter. I know you like I know myself. And your bottom lip pouts when you’re not happy.”
“I’m kinda messing things up. SAR is tough.”
“I’ve never seen you back down from anything before. What’s really going on? Is it your mother?”
“No, she’s staying out of my hair. I’m just afraid I can’t do it.”
“You already
are
doing it.”
Grace smiled. He was right, as usual.
“I’d come up and see you at the end of the month, but I have to go to the East Regional Council. The New District has been getting some threats from one of the nearby regions. Similar to what happened in the southwest. We’re trying to head it off before it gets out of hand.”
“Could there be a potential war?”
“Always a possibility. I’ll be going out there with a few combat units.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Nothing for you to worry about.”
“What if I need you?”
“The only thing you need is your focus and confidence. You can do anything, Grace.”
“Thanks, Dad. I won’t let you down.”
“How about you don’t let yourself down?”
“Yes, sir.” She saluted her father with a wink, and they signed off.
13
SINCE AVA WAS banned from the lab, she’d try another approach to her research. She picked up one of Lillian’s journals that she had packed for her stay at the academy and thumbed through the pages. She kept thinking about the intensity of her experience in the mainframe and her ability to interact with Lillian and the others. The whole thing was mind-blowing. And she couldn’t get the sound of baby Phoenix’s cry out of her head. She needed to know what was happening. She had read Phoenix’s story years ago, and it was time to revisit it more carefully. There might be something in those pages that could explain the current situation inside the mainframe.
Lillian Strader
Volume II—The Story of Sarah & Phoenix
The year that followed after William Morray, Zach Roldan, Drusilla Phelps, Sarah Broad, Samuel Merkin, and Daniel West helped Aaron and our men take down the Santa Barbara plantation and free our people was a time of rebirth and renewal. But we knew the elites would soon reestablish control, so Aaron and his father, John, began building an army to protect our camp to ward off potential attacks. I focused on organizing and structuring our new community. It didn’t take long before we were a solid fron
t and a fully-functioning society. By that time, Sarah had returned to the village with her and William’s newborn son, Phoenix. She reported that William had successfully killed his father, and the final stages of the Repatterning had come to an end. But it wasn’t over—the elites were still in control. William had tried taking them down and lost. The group of men still held all the power, and they would continue with their plans to rebuild the world as they saw fit. Sarah told us that to keep William out of their way and ensure that their New Agenda would come to fruition, they used Phoenix as leverage. William became obsessed with plotting and planning how to destroy the elites—he said there was no way he’d let those evil pigs near his son. Sarah watched on as William progressively went mad. He worked with John Dickson to upgrade the microchip his father’s team had implanted in his brain, and he began to change. He became less interested in protecting the people the Repatterning had left behind and more intent on gaining all of the power and control.
Sarah knew that William adored Phoenix and would do anything to protect him, but it was clear that William was heading in a bad direction. She grew increasingly concerned and she knew that staying in the Bel-Air home was too dangerous, so she made contact with Aaron to arrange for transportation to our village in Ojai. Before she left, Sarah had promised Dickson that she’d keep him informed about Phoenix, as long as he kept William away from the village. Our camp wasn’t exactly a safe haven—there were stragglers and roving lunatics left over from the brutal fires of the Repatterning, running amuck doing whatever they could to survive—but Sarah knew it was safer than being with William Morray and John Dickson.
After a few months, Sarah received communication from Dickson informing her that William had been shot by one of the elites and while his body had died, his consciousness was still intact. William’s consciousness would be relocated to the Los Angeles City Center, where Dickson could continue working on the upload technology in an effort to restore William to full capacity. Communication between the two grew sporadic and eventually stopped.