Preda's Voice (Guardians of Vaka Book 1) (8 page)

16

P
reda had fallen asleep for at least an hour after her hair was washed, and when she woke up, she felt much better. Someone had put her on one of the beds. Her headache was receding, and her newly closed wound in her side was still slightly numb from the lidocaine. She was alone in the room except for Fiver curled up on her right side.

There was a bowl of fruit next to the bed, and her stomach was quick to inform her she was starving. She quickly made a banana and an apple disappear. Once she was satisfied she wasn’t going to vanish from hunger, Preda gingerly got out of bed and walked over to her bag. She found some new clothes that weren’t covered in blood and put them on.

As she was changing in the bathroom, a glance in the mirror told her it was not just the stab wound that was hurting. Bruises were all up and down her left side and ribs. She inspected them gently and realized it was from her hard landing when she had jumped the bathroom stall door. Foxy was right. She had to learn how to defend herself—or at least fall in the right way.

She brushed her hair and teeth and pretty much felt like a new person after that. It had hurt to raise her left arm, but thankfully Preda was right-handed. When she was finished, she opened the door to the hall and found Al stationed just outside the room. He looked down at her from where he had been standing and smiled.

Preda was constantly reassessing this man in her mind. He had somehow morphed from a kind elderly neighbor into someone who could “dispose of evidence” and stand guard for hours without tiring. Maybe she had been misjudging his age from the beginning.

In a continual obsession with Preda’s nutrition, Al asked if she had eaten any fruit. She dutifully reported what she had eaten, and he seemed satisfied. “I was going to wake you in just a few minutes. We’re going to meet up with some friends. Then we’re leaving,” he informed her.

“We’re not staying here tonight?” she asked.

“No.”

It was his only answer, and Preda knew she would not be getting more information than that. She felt frustrated and retreated into the room to pack her things back up. The shirt with the hole in it went into the trash. Preda thought it funny for a moment that she seemed to leave a piece of clothing behind wherever she went. She was sitting on the bed with Fiver and waiting for Al to come get her when Foxy walked in. He looked around the room once and then asked, “You feeling up for a walk, Preda?”

“Yes,” she replied a little too enthusiastically.

She waited for him to tell her this wasn’t a game or supposed to be fun, but he just gave her an expression with the ghost of a crooked smile. Before the moment lasted too long, he was back to his gruff self. “Get up then,” he grunted, and he walked out of the room.

Al entered the room as Foxy left and gathered Fiver up in the carrier to leave. Preda met both of them out in the hall after going to the bathroom one last time. Both men looked anxious to go. They walked with her between them. Foxy led the way, and Al was right behind her.

Outside the streets seemed very much alive. It was just getting dark, and Preda was so caught up in the different lights and music around her that she could hardly pay attention to how sore she felt. It was like being on another planet. She said as much to her escorts, and they both laughed.

Preda tripped and almost fell as that staggering realization hit her. Further traveling might mean more than she had originally thought.

Foxy caught her before she fell. “At least pay attention to where you’re walking,” he scolded.

Preda mumbled under her breath about how she might still be under the effects of the neurotoxin, and Al laughed loudly behind her. After at least ten blocks of walking, Preda’s soreness and exhaustion were starting to take the forefront, and the city started to hold less appeal. She was trudging forward with her head down when suddenly a beggar jumped in front of her and just behind Foxy. “Miss, you have any money? Anything?” he pleaded.

Foxy turned around like a viper and grabbed the man by the back of his neck. Before she knew it, Preda had cried out for him to let the beggar go. Her request seemed to pain Foxy. He continued to hold the man’s neck, but he involuntarily relaxed his grip. Preda noticed several people were clearly avoiding the scene on the street, and the man was whimpering in pain. Preda turned around and asked Al for some change. He reluctantly got her some from his pocket. She handed it to the beggar, who was almost on his knees with discomfort. The man took the change from her and ran away. As he ran away, Preda turned to Tamron Fox. “What’s the big deal?”

It was just a beggar after all
, she thought. The beggar didn’t run far, though, before he stopped and turned around to walk back toward Preda. She saw him from the corner of her eye.

Just as she was about to tell him to go away, he spoke up first. “You want to talk some more, Vozia?” the beggar asked.

To her horror it sounded as if someone else’s voice was coming from his mouth. Al cursed. The man was slowly reaching into the back of his waistband without taking his dead stare off Preda. Foxy was on him before he could do anything. Preda heard a sickening snap as Tamron grabbed the arm reaching behind him and twisted it back in an unnatural way. The man didn’t cry out, though, as he had before. To Preda’s absolute dismay, he started to smile.

17

P
reda almost cried out at the unnatural expression on the stranger’s face, but she managed to keep her silence. Al had started to back her up with one arm held protectively in front of her. The other was carrying Fiver. Foxy didn’t miss a beat, and he kicked the beggar’s feet out from under him. The man fell forward onto his face, and Preda heard it smack into the pavement. He looked up at her with blood streaming over his teeth from his broken nose. He was still smiling.

Foxy dragged him by his feet into a dark alley, and Preda could only catch glimpses of them as he deftly tied the man up. His knife glinted silver in the alley when Foxy took it away from him. She tore her gaze from the alley. Al made her walk forward, and the scene was soon out of sight. Foxy jogged to catch up to them. Both men exchanged a glance.

“Hopefully they don’t have access to more specific information,” Al said quietly.

Foxy stopped and looked at Al. “I’m certain they know exactly where we’re going.” He sighed. “But we have no other choice.”

“Just a few more blocks, Preda,” Al said in a soothing tone.

Preda was far from fooled. There was something very wrong with this plan. She didn’t know where they were going or why, but she could tell that much. She had no choice but to go forward, though. At least the adrenaline kept her exhaustion at bay. She wouldn’t be caught staring at her feet again.

They finally rounded a corner, and Tamron Fox tensed as he abruptly stopped walking. Al came up behind Preda and put his hand on her shoulder. Both men seemed worried.

Foxy whispered to Al, “The field is gone.”

“I don’t see it either,” Al replied.

Preda had no idea what they were talking about, but she surmised this was a bad thing.

“Who are these friends we’re meeting again?” she asked as though they had told her before and she was supposed to know.

“People we can’t abandon.” It was all Al would say.

“Stay behind me,” Foxy said, and they started walking forward.

Suddenly a black metallic box was thrown smoothly in front of Foxy’s feet. He stopped and stared in alarm as the box started humming. A light projected out from it that engulfed the three.

Foxy cursed loudly. “It’s a portable field. Don’t move! I don’t know how far it extends.”

He threw the knife he had stolen from the beggar out in the direction they were walking. Preda gasped as the knife incinerated just five feet in front of them. There was a bright flash, and then it was gone as if it had never existed.

Suddenly people were converging into the alley. There were at least ten by Preda’s count, and they were all walking silently toward their group. Even in the dim light of the alley, Preda could see them staring at her—only her. One walked straight ahead of the others, and his dead eyes were in stark contrast to the smile forming on his lips.

This man walked straight into the area where the knife had burned. Before she could even think about it, Preda shook loose from Al’s grasp and walked forward to meet him. She was careful not to step past the pile of ashes that had once been a knife.

“Come no farther,” she said with what she thought was authority and only a slight tremor to her voice.

It was the first time she had spoken to anyone but Phillip Torrance and the two men behind her since she was a child. It was the first time she had ever tried speaking with authority
.
She could feel her toes tingling. This was odd, but she ignored it. The man in front of her immediately stopped and stared at her. Preda could see from this distance he was wearing Bermuda shorts and a button-down floral pattern shirt. He was clearly a tourist.
What’s he doing?

The man’s smile started to disappear after Preda spoke, but after a moment it was back, and a hollow voice left his mouth. “Come out, little Vozia, or this man will die.”

Preda didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t walk forward, and she didn’t know how to turn off the metal box that had appeared out of nowhere. Before she could reply, however, someone violently shoved the man from behind. He threw his hands out in front of himself as he stumbled forward. His extended fingers came within an inch of Preda’s face.

His body burned to ashes before Preda could say anything, and she choked back a sudden sob. Al came and pulled her away before she could do something stupid. He smoothed her hair back and hugged her to his chest until she felt as if she could breathe again.

Foxy growled in frustration and then cursed again as two figures emerged on the warehouse rooftop beside them. One man had a gun pointed at the group of men and women in the alleyway and yelled out for them to look up. All stared straight ahead at Preda with eerie silence—except one man in the middle.

This one looked up quickly and then back at Preda. It was enough to single him out as different, and the man on the roof took a shot. He hit him in the chest with what appeared to Preda’s eyes like a thin band of lightning. The man collapsed, and suddenly all the other people in the alley dropped to the ground unconscious.

Preda looked up at the two figures on the roof in disbelief. She thought she recognized the crooked smile of the one who had fired the gun, but it was too dark to see. Before anyone could say anything, she heard a metallic rattle from behind the building. The two men on the rooftop turned and dropped out of Preda’s line of sight.

18

W
ill felt exultant as he and Jim stood on the rooftop and looked into the alley full of unconscious drones and the Soundless one who had been controlling them. The box had landed not far from where he had been aiming, and the three below were unharmed. He hadn’t expected to hear Preda speak and had almost fallen over when she had commanded the man to come no farther. Jim had gasped next to him as though her voice had hurt him, but being a Kait it only intensified Will’s feeling of anger toward the threat against her.

He had anticipated Soundless, but seeing all these innocent people manipulated was unexpected. He had had to identify the one controlling them, and it was a lucky break that he had been in the middle of the group in the alley. Will had had no idea the gunshot would affect them all, but the result had certainly simplified the situation.

He smiled down at the three below, but his momentary relief dissolved just as quickly as it had come. The sound of metal wire scraping concrete behind him gave off a tinny resonance. He and Jim turned in time to see a man wrapped in barbed wire. He looked like a tumbleweed. He was thrashing over the side of the building and fell onto the rooftop. He had taken all the barbed wire with him, and Will could tell others were not far behind him. The tumbleweed of a man was dripping blood from every piece of exposed skin, but he was smiling.

“Well, that’s terrifying,” whispered Jim.

Will didn’t wait long before he started firing at the figures scaling the wall. He didn’t know which ones were innocent people under Soundless control, so he was careful not to shoot them until they had made it all the way onto the roof. That way they wouldn’t fall to their deaths below. It was still sickening every time his gun made impact with one of them.

Before long he had incapacitated seven men and women who had mindlessly climbed onto the roof. Jim was standing next to him with a knife in his hand. Both understood the need to stay away from conventional guns. The noise and evidence left behind from the use of such weapons were too risky. They had been trained in knife fighting, and it was the chosen form of weapon the Soundless used. Knives were quiet.

When a comfortable thirty seconds passed with no movement at the wall, Jim and Will carefully started making their way over to investigate. The man covered in barbed wire would have scars, but he would live. The others were all breathing normally with regular heart rates. They would be sore when they woke up.

They inspected the mouths of every person, but unfortunately all had tongues.

“It’s a good thing none of these people have a heart condition,” Jim said, and he walked over toward Will after checking the last person.

Although the impulse guns didn’t cause lasting damage, they did cause temporary heart arrhythmias. They had learned that people here commonly had atrial arrhythmias. This was very rare where they were from, and no one knew what the effect would be if someone with that condition was shot.

“We have to get out of here,” Jim said. “There’s going to be more soon.”

Will knew he was right, but the angry Kait part of him wanted to wait and meet them when they came. Another part of him didn’t want to face the general waiting in the alley below.

Will pulled a ladder up from the side of the building that the drones had used to scale the wall, and he left it next to them on the rooftop. He and Jim were going to lock these people up here, and they would need it to get down once they recovered.

Once they were in the stairwell, Jim closed the door and deftly entered the code twice. A new code comprising random numbers only he and a few others knew followed. As they made it down the stairwell, Will’s feet felt heavy beneath him. Their plan had succeeded so far. He knew the great Tamron Fox would not see this as a success, though.

Tamron had earned the respect of an entire culture. For all intents and purposes, he was their leader. He was the most influential person he could think of, aside from a Vozia, and Will had managed to trap him in an electrical field. This was not going to end well.

As they left through the side door, Will and Jim bowed out of respect before approaching the three standing in the alley. The faint glimmer of electricity could be seen rippling just around them. Jim had been right. That field was small.

As they walked toward them, Will could see recognition dawn in Preda’s eyes. She was standing awkwardly as though she wanted nothing more than to lie down in the street. She was also paler than normal. That was quite a feat, considering her usual pallor. Her eyes widened as she recognized them, and she almost started to speak, but Tamron cut her off. “Explain,” he said.

That one spoken word carried a lot of implied danger. Jim started to stammer a reply about how they had gotten the box to work with a smaller radius using spare impulse gun parts after the original had been destroyed. He then quickly dived right into a lengthy physics lesson. Will could see Tamron had only about a twenty-second fuse before he erupted on Jim, so Will interrupted before that could happen. “I take full responsibility for the independent deviation from protocol of this unit,” he said with as much humility as he could muster in that moment.

Of course, he and Jim were the only ones in the unit.

Tamron responded in an icy tone. “Your responsibility in this was never in question.”

Will couldn’t help himself. “Sir, I apologize, but if there had not been restricted technology left at the site, the site’s discovery would not have been so easy.”

Will could see Jim’s horrified expression out of the corner of his eye. This blatant display of disrespect did not faze Tamron, though.

“The discovery was made easy after the use of a satellite phone that became necessary only after you deviated from protocol,” he replied.

Al spoke up at this point in an attempt to rescue Will from causing further damage by continuing to argue. “It doesn’t matter whose fault this is. That was quick thinking, boys. Now, we would like to get out of this field and leave.” Al indicated their entrapment with a wave of his arm.

Tamron was not so easily led astray. “Furthermore,” he continued, “I would have expected you to be able to follow a simple directive.”

“The directive was to keep eyes on her.” Will indicated Preda.

“Maybe we should have this conversation elsewhere,” Jim quietly interjected.

“You knew damn well she was in my possession,” said Tamron. “I expected better from you.”

“Maybe I’m just following my father’s example,” Will whispered.

Foxy flinched at the statement as though it had been a personal jab.

“Wait a minute. Foxy’s your father?” Preda asked, trailing off at the end like she felt guilty for speaking.

Everyone stopped and stared at her in stunned silence. After a few seconds, Jim started laughing loudly. “You call him Foxy?” he managed to ask after catching his breath.

Will started to smile, and Tamron just shook his head as though resigned to his new name. After a moment he looked at Jim and said, “Get us out of here.”