Breaking Through (18 page)

Not even Riley knows
what will be thrown at us, so we huddle together as the room goes black. My palms sweat. I wipe them on my pants to deter my mind from whatever scene will be presented to us. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. My heart hammers against my ribs.

Calm down. Breathe. Slow your heart rate.

I suck in a lungful of air. Blowing it out, I catch the soft sound of the incoming tide. Then I feel it—actually
feel
the water push up over the top of my shoes. Light slowly emerges in the form of a starlit sky and full moon. The scent of saltwater is carried along a cool breeze that rushes over my skin. It’d be refreshing if it weren’t Yun Ji-jin’s territory.

We’re here to make sure his command stays
only
on this strip of land
, I remind myself. The thought doesn’t soothe my nerves, though. I walk backwards over sand and bump into Kray.

“Something tells me this isn’t Plage de Tahiti,” he says. “And I’m pretty sure I’d rather be at Plage de Tahiti right now.”

We’ve just swum to shore from the submarine. I hold out both palms to my teammates and evaporate the water off them.

“All right. There’s a North Korean military base just north of us,” Riley says, pointing toward a large group of lights. “The weapons facility, however, is at the center of the city. Keep your heads down and remain out of sight. Britta and Kray, two miles from here is a hotel the government has closed off. That’s where you two will need to set up your equipment. Let’s move out.”

Kray and I have to split up. My hand trembles in his, not wanting to let go.

“Just follow orders, okay?” he says. “Barton will keep you safe.”

“What about you?”

The corner of his mouth curves up. “Don’t worry. I have Britta.”

The wink he sends me isn’t funny. He presses a kiss to my forehead and peels my hand from his. Offering no more reassurance, he follows Riley up the beach. Eyes wide, scanning the beach like I’m a surveillance camera, I jog beside him. Britta trudges behind the group until Gibson drops back and takes the heavy backpack from her.

As he does, she stops. “I hear voices,” she says. She pauses for a moment, listening. “I can’t make out words, but they’re coming from the north.”

“Get down,” Riley commands.

We all obey, crouching down to the sand. Kray looks at me, but he’s not seeing me; he’s concentrating on the direction Britta indicated, attempting to dig into the minds accompanying the voices.

“They know we’re here,” Britta whispers, giving us the Cliffs Notes translation. “They’re searching for us.”

“You catching anything, Kray?” Riley asks.

“Yeah,” Kray says, turning his attention to Britta. Then he spouts off Korean to her like he’s spoken it since birth. Her brow just furrows in response.

“You just listed off breakfast foods,” she quips, annoyed. “Are you sure you heard their thoughts correctly?”

“They’re muffled because they’re far away. It’s the best I can do,” he counters. A moment of silence passes before Kray holds up a hand to her. “Hang on. I hear more.” This time he puts more emphasis on the enunciation.

“They’re calling for backup. Six vehicles,” Britta translates the thoughts Kray stole. “We need to get out of here.”

“Nautia,” Riley says, his golden irises holding me in place. Fear cuts the oxygen from my lungs. “Can you take them out?”

“I can try,” I murmur.

You’re doing this for Nate
.

I lift my hands out to the ocean. I concentrate on one section of water, in a twenty-foot expanse. It’s pitch-black out here; by the time they see the wave, they won’t be able to outrun it.

I close my eyes. Focus. Feel the sea giving in to my power. My shoulders relax at the ease it takes for the water to comply. It rises, rises, and as it does, oxygen fills my lungs again. I’m confident, and my heart slows to a steady rhythm.

Until it stops.

“
Idonghaji anhseubnida
,”
a voice demands.

“Don’t move,” Britta translates unnecessarily.

I feel the cool barrel of the gun against my temple before I hear the click. The sound echoes all around me like thunder.

Terror seizes me, striking me to the bone. Instinct tells me to keep raising the wave. My eyes flick over to Riley for direction, and he gives a tiny bob of the head. We’re in sync, reading each other’s minds without having the power.

I close my eyes and force all of my energy into my outstretched fingers. I don’t have to see the wave building to know it’s happening; I experience it deep in my core. When it’s ready, I open my eyes and release the beast.

Shouts ring out around me, and everything happens in slow motion.

“
Geudeul-eul jug-yeo
,” the soldiers yell.

I jerk around just in time to see one of them place the barrel of his gun against Kray’s head and pull the trigger. Wide pupils lock with mine for a split second before my friend’s body topples onto the sand.

“Noooo!” I scream. Heat runs like lava through my veins, and I don’t think.

I whip an arm upward, knocking away the gun at my temple. Springing to my feet, I throw both hands out to my sides as I channel the ocean behind me. Below me, Riley rolls over the sand, shooting at Ji-jin’s army. One of them has Britta by the hair, holding her up off the ground. Her screams ring out, piercing my eardrums and fueling the power within me. One shot, and her chin slumps forward on her chest.

Haskal holds out a dead soldier in front of him, using him as a shield, and Gibson has one of his hands raised into the air, a dozen weapons spinning above him. More shots zip past us from the south as the backups arrive. Gibson sweeps his arm in their direction, stopping a mass of bullets, but he’s defenseless against the one coming in from the east. Blood splatters onto my vest as Gibson falls to the ground at my feet.

I want to fall down beside him. I want to grab him and Kray and Britta, and get them the hell out of here.

I’m hyperventilating. My lungs scream for oxygen. My arms are heavy with the weight of the wave behind me. I can’t concentrate.

Kray.

Emotion rises into my chest, unabated. A current that moves within me and breaks me.

I can’t contain it. I can’t hold on.

The wave races across the shoreline, feeding off my emotions. Unbridled, it shows no mercy.

I twist, and Riley’s gaze finds mine. Something like fear and regret holds my stare. His mouth widens in terror, and he lurches for me.

The last thing I hear is one final gunshot.

Moonlit shores disappear,
replaced by the wood floors and bright lights of the simulation gym. The end happened so fast, we’re all splayed out in the middle of the room. I sit up and place my head between my knees. My lungs rasp from the water I breathed in when Nautia sent that wave crashing over us. My body still believes it was real.

From the far corner, Britta makes her way to the center. Her face wary, she plops down beside Gibson. He slings an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close.

My gaze travels to Nautia. She’s crouched down over Kray, who’s flat on his back. “I’m sorry,” she says, a tear leaking from her eye. Her fingers tremble while searches Kray’s face. “I’m so sorry.”

He reaches up and rubs his temple where the computerized soldier shot him. Then he pulls his hand back, staring at it. There’s no blood, of course, but his mind tells him there should be. Reality washes in fast, though, and he starts to laugh.

“I never want to be on a beach again. Unless it’s Plage de Tahiti. Can this thing simulate that, Cap? The scenario can be a topless Selena Gomez coming up out of the water. Hell. Yes.” Kray winks at Nautia as he wipes the tear away. He pushes stray hair from her cheek and lowers his voice. “It was just a simulation, Naut. It’s not real.”

“It felt real,” she says.

Kray grins. “All the more reason to program in my idea next.”

“Good to know death didn’t kill your sense of humor,” she says. Slowly, her eyes shift to me. Lament clouds her irises, and I’m dying to walk the ten feet that divide us, kiss the dot on her temple where she’d been shot, and pull her into me. “Why did the simulation stop?” she asks.

“Because we were all killed,” I answer.

Haskal pounds his fist against the floor. “We didn’t even get off the fucking beach!”

“How long were we in there?” Gibson asks.

“Eighteen minutes,” I reply, doing a quick scan of each person. So far, no one looks like they’re going to hurl or pass out. Good.

“So how’d you die, Captain?”

Before I can answer, Haskal dives in. “Nautia drowned us. Thanks,
friend
. So much for teamwork.”

Nautia’s gaze falls to the floor, and I want to comfort her. It wasn’t her fault; no one succeeds in their first simulation.

“Out in the real world, it would require that much energy to summon a wave. In the simulation, however, only half is necessary. It works the same way for you and Gibson. To control it takes practice, which is why the rest of the crew isn’t joining us until next week,” I explain.

“Practice, huh? All right,” Haskal says, standing up. “Let’s go again.”

“Yeah let’s do it,” Gibson chimes in.

“I’m game,” Kray says, shrugging.

Britta gives a flip of her wrist. “Whatever.”

When Nautia doesn’t respond, I look at her. Her eyes cut to me, like she can feel my stare. “Sure.”

Like Britta’s, her response is noncommittal. The girls’ confidences are at zero, and that doesn’t bode well for the next simulation. Still, they need practice.

After we give the control panel our information and another drop of blood to activate the simulation, we return to the middle. I say the access code and round two begins. Twenty-three minutes later I’m the last one standing in the woods outside of Wonsan. I drop my weapons in surrender and I’m shot multiple times, deactivating the program.

This time when the holograms around us disappear, the Specials stay sprawled out on the floor. Britta is pale and holding her stomach like she’s going to puke. Nautia’s trembling again, clutching Kray by the arm. The rest of them don’t look much better.

“That’s enough for today,” I say. “Go rest up. Partner training after lunch. Today’s simulations should give you a new perspective on individual duties.”

When I leave, my mind begins to analyze Nautia’s abilities within the simulation. How they shouldn’t even work inside. How the computer didn’t recognize her blood.

And goddammit all if I want solve every mystery about this girl.

“You’re late,” Nautia says as I jog onto the deck for our evening training.

“Kray and Britta had a second session after supper. If they can stop bickering for ten seconds, I think they’d work well together.”

Nautia snickers. “Good luck with that.”

A gust blows up, the scent of her soap riding on it. I’m reminded of her in my bed. I want to lead her to my captain’s quarters and caresses her, but I won’t. Not until she’s ready.

“We’re going to start off in the simulation room. There’s something you should see.”

“About my blood?” she guesses.

“Yeah. I didn’t override the system, so what you did in the first simulation shouldn’t have happened. Your powers are not programmed.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the computer has no idea you’re an aquator. The computer knows shit about you.”

“Then how did it let me raise the wave?”

“Because you taught it to,” I say.

She stares at me, confused. “How did I—”

“Let me show you.” I offer my hand and smile when she takes it. Something forms in my throat at the thought of it having been a long time since I’ve been this intimate with someone. Not some lustful adventure that ends in physical satisfaction and emotional nothingness, but real closeness.

Nautia must feel it too, because she’s quiet as we descend the stairs to the lower deck. A quick glance over my shoulder reveals a soft smile playing at her lips. She walks right up against me, her other hand coming to rest around my wrist.

Her fingers tighten when the door to the simulation gym slides open. I lead her to the control panel, and only then do I let go of her. She stays close to me. Enough so, that I find a way to touch her each time I move. She doesn’t pull back.

When I find her newly formed file on the computer, I throw it out into the air so she can see it too. The hologram of Nautia’s 3D double helix spins in front of us.

“This is your DNA,” I say. “See the yellow links here, and blue links there?”

“Yeah. They’re…” She steps forward as she trails off. Ocean blues examine the structure, squinting at the complexity. She cocks her head to the side and reaches her fingertips out. “They’re moving. It’s like…it’s like they’re alive.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it, even in the DNA of people like us. Ours is different, for sure, but the links don’t change places. Here.” I find the structure of my own blood sample and toss the image out beside Nautia’s to compare them. “This one is mine.”

My DNA is still more intricate than many Specials, with an average of six links to a rung instead of the standard two of most human beings. But they all stay stagnant—permanently pieced together. Nautia’s has four on each rung, and the yellow links and blue links change places every few seconds. Swapping spots within their own rung, and the rungs above and below them.

“This is why the computer couldn’t register me,” she reasons, swallowing. She curls her lip between her teeth. “My DNA isn’t stable.”

I catch the underlying tone of her statement: if her DNA isn’t stable, that must be why
she’s
not stable.

“I have a couple of theories,” I say as she continues to study the two strands of DNA, “but neither explains why you struggle with controlling your power.”

“This isn’t proof enough?” she half-laughs out. “The reason is pretty clear, don’t you think?”

“Actually, no. Your power is tied to your emotional core. That’s not in your DNA, Nautia. No one else on board has that extra layer, so I can’t compare. But before Nate died, you could control it. Your DNA didn’t change—you did,” I explain.

She blows out air through pink-glossed lips. “All right,” she relents. “What are your theories?”

“My first one is the most plausible: that this movement of strands is what makes you so powerful. This would mean that your DNA has always reacted this way, linking and unlinking. Your power flows through every single cell of your body. Almost like…” I pause, unsure of how she’ll react to the rest. “Like hydrogen and oxygen.”

“Like water,” she says.

“Yeah. Like water. When you create it, you fuse the molecules, and when you evaporate it, you separate them.”

“Which is what my DNA is doing. Basically, right?”

“Seems like it.”

“What’s your second theory?”

“That giant wave you created? It reached out to you, embraced you, and then you imploded it. What if the water—in that moment—gave you something you didn’t have before?”

She shakes her head, confused. “I thought you said my DNA has been doing this since I was born. What could the wave have given me?”

“Permission.”

“Permission?” she repeats.

“You said the wave was thinking, like the water itself was alive. And then in the simulation, you controlled the water when that shouldn’t have been possible. Just because we have the ability to do something, doesn’t mean we have the right to.”

“What does that have to do with my blood?”

“The water made you a part of it. Put those strands in motion to resemble, if you will, the molecular structure of itself.”

Nautia finally looks away from the projected images and stares at me. “Haskal once said that I needed to become one with the water. To let it fill me. I’d never felt that with my power, but that night? The night the wave curled around me? For the first time in my life, I felt free. Like the water no longer controlled me. That I controlled
it
.”

Her vulnerability right now gives me the in I need, and I move into her. Thread my fingers into her hair and lift her face to me. Eyes the color of the Mediterranean peer into mine.

“But if that’s true, why did I kill everyone in the simulation? Why can’t I control it?” she asks.

“The simulation works differently. It requires less power to do the same work, but Nautia…” I drop my voice as I lean in. Her lips are so close to mine. “I think you
can
control it now.”

She tries to look away, but hold her head steady. Her nostrils flare with self-doubt. “I don’t know, Riley. What if I can’t? What if I end up hurting people?”

“You won’t. I won’t let that happen.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“Yes, I can. You are Cara’s secret weapon. If Haskal is correct, we’re not supposed to make it to shore. Cara is banking on your erratic control to take out everyone on board this ship. And if we do make it to the coast, she’ll probably have a plan that involves killing…anyway. But she doesn’t know what we know. What
I
know.” I don’t want to be discussing strategy right now, but I want Nautia to trust me. And I need her to trust herself.

“And what is that?”

“That we have the advantage. Because you aren’t who she thinks you are. You aren’t the same person who left Brighton Academy weeks ago. You’ve controlled tornados, Nautia. Monster waves have bowed to your command.”

“Okay,” she breathes, determination darkening her irises. “I want to try. What do I do?”

“Test our theory.”