ANOM: Awakening (The ANOM Series Book 1) (22 page)

And
Titan was waiting for him.

Talon
closed the distance, and Nyx could hear him scream over the radio, “It’s time
for you to burn.”

Then
he punched with his right, the dagger on top of his fist aimed at Titan’s
chest. It struck home. Then the green blade shattered, and Titan still didn’t
move.

Talon
reeled back, reset, and slashed up with his left for Titan’s face, but this
time the bronze Anom answered. He caught hold of Talon’s fist in mid-air, and
his dagger, hand, and wrist were all lost in Titan’s metal grip. Talon tried to
pull away. Titan closed his hand. There was a snap, and Nyx could hear Talon’s
screams in her receiver and from across the room.

Talon
sank to his knees, but Titan wouldn’t let go. He reached down for Talon’s
throat, and lifted him into the air with one hand. Then he threw him away.
Talon’s body twisted over in the air and slammed against one of the support
columns, falling back to the ground in a twisted heap.

Titan
stepped away without looking back at the body. He walked toward the center of
the room and reached down for something on the floor. When he stood back up, he
lifted his bronze arm high above his head. Nyx couldn’t see what he was
holding, but she didn’t have to. She knew.

*****

“
They’re
detonating! I repeat, they’re detonating the bombs now!
” Jeremy heard Nyx
scream over the receiver in his ear; she was panicked. Across from him, the man
in black still held his AK-47 aimed at Jeremy’s chest, but that was irrelevant
now. There was no more time.

Jeremy
closed his eyes and punched out his hands to either side of his body. All at
once he could feel the change—the pressure in the air building around him, like
his whole body was being squeezed in a press. It was like he was under the
ocean, the waves crashing against him, pushing him down and back and under. The
only difference here was the quiet. All the noise in the world was far away,
and everything felt terribly slow, as if he had sunk into a warm, dark, mud. He
felt all alone.

"G-Force,”
a soft, familiar voice whispered in his ear. It was Lara talking over the
radio.

“G-Force,
we’re monitoring your gravity from command. Everything looks good, but you need
to breathe. Waves, not constant. Remember?”

Jeremy
kept his eyes shut, but he sucked in a quick breath. At the same time, he let
the gravity field drop. There was a moment of noise and freedom and a rush of
cool air, and then Jeremy was pushing out again, focusing on the gravity field
around his body.

Then
he opened his eyes. The terrorist in black wasn't standing in front of him
anymore. In fact, nothing was in front of him anymore. There was nothing
anywhere around him for that matter. Desks and chairs and computer monitors
were flung across the room, pushed twenty feet away in every direction by the
gravity field filling the empty space. Jeremy blinked his eyes and tried to
focus. He could see the terrorist now too, only he was even farther away, lying
prone on the ground, struggling to stand up.

Lara
was in his ear again. "G-Force, we need you to increase the gravity field.
Plus eighteen will not contain the explosion."

Jeremy
closed his eyes again, trying to push out even farther than before. He could feel
the strain running back through every muscle: sharp, burning pain, and the
blood rushing to his face. Jeremy's arms started to shake. His ears were
ringing.

Then,
suddenly, there was a roar that even Jeremy could hear through the muted sounds
of the gravity field. Was this it? Was that the explosion?

He
opened his eyes. The desks and chairs and computer monitors strewn across the
floor were all gone now. The terrorist was gone too. So was all the glass in
the windows. Everything not nailed down to the floor or bolted to the walls was
wiped out, pushed out of the building on all sides through the gaping holes in
the windows.

Jeremy
looked over at the wall. The bomb was still there—still intact. It hadn't
exploded at all.
This
devastation was caused by him.

Lara’s
voice was in his ear again. “You’re at plus twenty-one now. The building is
stable, but we still need more.”

Jeremy
tried to answer her, but his jaw wouldn’t move. He wanted to ask how much more
gravity would it take, or when would the signal come through to detonate the
bombs. When could he stop? But he couldn't get any of the words out. All he
could do was grit his teeth and growl.

"You’re
at plus twenty-three. Keep it there. Waves, not constant.”

Jeremy's
vision blurred. His legs were shaking now too. He tried to focus his eyes on
the bomb on the wall. He could tell a second indicator light across the top was
flashing now. The first one had stopped. It was solid red. Maybe the second
light had stopped too. He couldn't tell. Everything looked fogged over.

“You’re
back at plus twenty-one. We need more from you, G-Force. Let’s go.”

Jeremy
needed to breathe. He needed to drop the field and get fresh air, but there was
no time for that now. If this was finally the explosion, he couldn't risk dropping
the gravity field. Jeremy pushed his arms out again, straining against the air.
He could feel his pulse thrumming inside his head. The edges of the room were
going dark. He was blacking out.

A
wave of memory flooded back. Jeremy was a boy again, standing in his father’s
study, crying and ashamed. Then he was eighteen years old in the mall with
Kate, too afraid to die. Then he was standing toe-to-toe with Ellison, overcome
with anger. Jeremy could see all of it—his whole past laid out at once—every turn
that brought him here.

And
none of it mattered. Not the expectations or the judgments or the
disappointments or the fears—none of the baggage they tried to throw on him.
None of that belonged to him anymore. This was his life, and this was his
choice, and any consequences, intended or not, were his alone. If he failed
now, he would carry that alone too.

With
the last of his breath and all of his strength, Jeremy pushed back against the
air and the darkness.

Then
there was a flash of light, and the whole room was suddenly washed in brilliant
white. Then darkness again. Jeremy tried to focus on the bomb bolted to the
wall. It was still there, but it was also changed. The black shell had
shattered like porcelain, and it was falling away in a million pieces.

Jeremy
dropped the gravity field and fell to his knees. He couldn't hold himself up
anymore. The floor seemed to spin under him, and everything was black. He
pulled his arms into his chest and tried to breathe.

Nothing.

There
was no air.

He
tried again.

And
this time he could feel it. The wind rushed in, blowing across his face. It was
cold and sweet, and Jeremy drank it in, filling his lungs, holding it inside.

Then
came the vomit, a thin splash of clear water across the carpeted floor.

Nyx
dropped to one knee, still staring across the room at Titan, waiting for the
explosion. She reached her arm behind her toward the huddled mass of hostages.
Someone took hold of her hand. Someone else grabbed her forearm.

She
was going to live
. That’s what Nyx told herself. Even if the bombs went
off, she would still have time to flash herself away. She would take as many of
the hostages with her as she could manage. That was the best she could do. She
was ready.

On
the other side of the room, Titan looked at the remote he held in his
outstretched hand. He pressed his finger against the detonator, hard, and then
he looked at it again. Still nothing. He threw it down on the floor, and it
shattered into pieces. It hadn't worked. For whatever reason, there was no
explosion.

Titan
looked up from the broken remote on the floor and scanned across the room. He
didn't have eyes, but Nyx could tell he was looking for something, his head
moving in a slow sweeping arc from left to right. Then he stopped, and he was
looking right at her.

Nyx
pressed the contact mic against her throat. "Gauntlet, I need you to
engage Titan. Keep him away from the hostages."

Titan
started forward, stepping in her direction. Nyx stood up and punched twice,
first with a left and then a right. Two energy bolts shot across the room. They
hit Titan in the chest in rapid succession. He didn't slow down. He didn't
care. They both bounced away as harmless as a beam from a flashlight. He was
ten feet away now and closing the distance. Nyx pulled back with her right,
ready to punch again.

Then
a loud clang echoed across the room, the sharp sound of metal striking
metal—Gauntlet's sword swinging across Titan's back. Nyx wasn't sure where
Gauntlet came from—she only saw the blur of red armor after he struck—but the
attack was fast and powerful. It would have fallen a normal man, even one
wearing armor. Titan only turned around to face his assailant.

He
swung a wild back-fist at Gauntlet's skull. Gauntlet ducked the blow, spun on
his heels, and swung again. This time his sword raked across Titan's middle. It
still did nothing.

Titan
punched again. Gauntlet stepped back, parried the fist with his sword, swung
the blade up, and brought it back down, this time aiming for Titan's head.

But
Titan caught the sword in mid-air. Nyx held her breath. She had seen this
before. She knew what Titan could do. Gauntlet jerked back on his sword, trying
to wrench it free from the Anom’s metal grip, but it didn't move. Titan pulled
back and punched again.

Gauntlet
let go of the sword, twisted away, and raised his shield just in time. It
caught most of Titan's bronze hand, turning it aside to save his life, but the
force still sent Gauntlet flailing sideways to the floor.

Nyx
pressed the contact mic to her throat. "G-Force, do you copy? We need
support." No answer. She tried again. "Red Team, what's your status?
We need backup down here. Now!"

Ellison's
voice answered on the radio, "We're still waiting on EOD. Hold position
and stand by."

Nyx
looked to her right. Gauntlet had managed to get back on his feet. He was
swinging a pair of axes now, one in each hand, but the way he was moving… He
was dancing away, feinting at a quick strike and then pulling back, guarding
his left side the whole time. Nyx could tell he was hurt. He wouldn't last.

She
looked back to her left. Talon's body was still strewn across the ground,
twisted up where he’d fallen against the pillar. He wasn't moving. Nyx couldn't
tell if he was breathing or not.

She
pressed her contact mic again. "Talon is down. I repeat, Talon is down.
He's not moving. We need medics."

There
was a pause; then Ellison answered, "We copy, Nyx."

Nyx
cursed under her breath. Talon was lying on the ground, dead or dying, and the
best Ellison could offer was “We copy.”

She
looked back over her shoulder at the hostages. They were terrified—all of them.
She could see it in their wild eyes and their open mouths. They were all too
afraid to move—too afraid to even think. They couldn’t save themselves now if
they wanted to.

Nyx
cursed herself again. Maybe she wouldn’t make it out alive after all, but they
still could.

She
pressed her mic. “Red Team, permission to evacuate the hostages?”

Ellison’s
voice crackled back, “Negative. Hold position and stand by.”

Nyx
shook her head; this wasn’t his call—it couldn’t be.

“Negative,
Red Team. I am jumping hostages to a nearby rooftop. Over.”

Ellison’s
voice roared back over the radio, “Negative! Hold position and stand by. Red
Team will breach the tower in five minutes and we will evac as planned. Nyx, do
you copy?”

She
didn't answer; instead, Nyx turned to the hostages. “Everybody listen. We can't
stay here. We need to move. All of us. Take my hands—as many of you as can. I
need you to hold onto me, tight."

The
hostages did as they were told. They reached up, and Nyx tried to wrap her
fingers around as many as she could. She ended up with three different hands in
each of her own, six hostages total. That was all she could manage. So then she
would take six people at a time for as many trips as it would take. She could
still do this.

Nyx
looked out the window and found her target—the nearest rooftop. She took a deep
breath. "Now hold on."

Nyx
closed her eyes. There was a flash of light—she could see it brighten even from
behind her eyelids—and a bolt of electricity shot from her molars down to her
toes. Then she could feel the fresh air on her face, and the wind catching in
her hair, and the light behind her eyelids was a warm orange—it was the sun.
She was outside.

Nyx
opened her eyes. She was standing on that same far away rooftop. She looked
back over her shoulder. The Sears Tower rose above the skyline. Then her
stomach flipped and she felt like she would puke.

Someone
on her right did just that. She looked over. One of the hostages she’d brought
with her was doubled-over, getting sick. Two more on her left did the same.
Another hostage tried to step away, but his legs wobbled under him, and then he
fell down on all fours. Nyx understood the feeling, but there was no time for
that now.

She
turned back to the tower, closed her eyes, and flashed away. In an instant, she
was standing back on the observation deck in front of the hostages. Six more
hands reached up. She grabbed hold of them, and then she flashed away, back to
the rooftop and then back again. This time she did get sick—she couldn’t stop
it. She dropped to her hands and knees, too weak to stand, and she spit the
bile from her throat onto the carpet.

Nyx
looked over at the hostages. There were still eight of them, huddled together,
waiting. Nyx caught her breath. Only eight left, but that meant two more trips
to get them out. She told herself again that she could do it, only this time it
was harder to believe.

A
loud crash from over her shoulder shook the last thought from Nyx’s head. She
turned and looked just in time to see Gauntlet thrown across the floor. Titan
followed after him, moving at a slow, steady pace, stalking down his prey.

Nyx
struggled to her feet and looked back at the hostages. “I want you to stay
here.”

They
cried in protest: “What!?!”

“You
can’t—”

“We
need to—”

They
were all desperate—she knew that—and maybe they were right. Maybe her first
priority should have been to get them out, but Gauntlet was still writhing in
pain on the ground, and Titan was almost on top of him.

Nyx
pulled back both her fists and punched out with all the strength she had left.
A double bolt of energy shot out, hitting Titan in the shoulder. The metal
giant staggered half a step to the side. He staggered—but that was all she
needed.

Titan
turned and looked at her, fixing her with his cold, hollow depressions that
served as eyes. Nyx thought he looked angry. Then he took a step in her
direction, and she
knew
he was angry. That was her opening.

Nyx
closed her eyes and flashed to the other side of the room, kneeling on the
ground next to Gauntlet. She reached for his arm, and she could hear a grunt of
pain from behind his helmet. At least he was still alive.

Titan
heard it too, or maybe he just knew. He wheeled around and lunged back for the
both of them. Nyx closed her eyes and flashed again, this time to the far side
of the tower, and this time she took Gauntlet with her. It was the best she
could do. She was exhausted now.

From
the other side of the room, Titan saw them. He squared up his shoulders,
twisted his head as if he were cracking his neck, and then he started after
them again. He moved across the room even slower than before. Why would he
rush? He already knew the fight was over. Nyx knew it too. She and Gauntlet
were as good as dead.

Nyx
steadied herself on her feet. The whole building felt like it was spinning
under her. She wanted to get sick again, but there was nothing left to throw
up. Titan was only twenty yards away. Nyx tried to throw a punch with her right
hand. A thin bolt of energy shot out, fading into nothing halfway to its
target. She punched with her left. Nothing happened. She couldn’t even manage
an energy bolt now.

“Help
me up.” Gauntlet was struggling to stand next to her. Nyx reached down, grabbed
him under his arm, and helped him to his feet. There was another grunt of pain
muffled by the helmet. Then Gauntlet limped a step forward, putting himself
between Nyx and Titan. He closed his fists, and a cocoon of metal swallowed up
each hand, twisting around on itself. Then half-inch spikes jutted out from the
metal in all directions. In half a second, Gauntlet had turned both of his
fists into a pair of medieval morning stars.

He
limped forward again, raising his right fist up to his chin; his left arm still
hung lifeless at his side. “Stay behind me. I can buy us some time.”

Nyx
laughed—she didn’t mean to. She wasn’t sure if Gauntlet actually believed what
he said or not, but the idea was absurd. Still, if he was sincere…

Nyx
put her hand on his shoulder. “Give him hell.”

Titan
was only three feet away.

“Hey!”
a voice suddenly yelled from their left.

Nyx
turned to look. Gauntlet looked too. Even Titan stopped his advance to turn and
face the new arrival. They all saw him at the same time. Standing in front of
the north stairwell, his silhouette framed by the emergency lights behind him:
It was G-Force.

For
a moment, they all stood frozen, waiting for someone else to make the first
move. Then Titan obliged. He squared up to this newest adversary and raised
both his hands, beckoning the boy on.

G-Force
answered. He charged, moving faster than any of them expected—even Titan. He
hit the bronze Anom hard around the waist, like a linebacker finishing a blitz,
driving him back into the windows of the tower. The glass pane spider-webbed
behind Titan’s back.

For
a second, Nyx actually thought the window might hold. But then the broken glass
fell away, and Titan and G-Forced tumbled out into the empty sky.