Metawars: The Complete Series: Trance, Changeling, Tempest, Chimera (15 page)

Whatever statement he meant to make was cut off by an obnoxious blaring noise, filtered into the room through a loudspeaker in the ceiling. We pulled apart.

“What is that?” I asked.

The computer monitor opposite us blinked to life. Live news coverage filled the screen. Half of a large complex was
flattened, the street littered with dust and rubble and debris. The scroll at the bottom read “Inglewood Demolition Goes Wrong, Workers Trapped.”

Just a few miles from our headquarters.

“Should we let the fire department handle it?” Gage asked.

I sensed a challenge in his words. The building had done more than simply collapse. If the news reporter was correct, it had also trapped half a dozen workers beneath the rubble. It could take the fire department hours, if not days, to safely reach them. Using our powers together, we could get there faster.

“I suppose there’s no better time to introduce ourselves to the world,” I said. “Let’s call Onyx and Tempest. We’ve got our first team mission.”

F
or all of my bluster about a team mission, the scene presented enough unique challenges to tempt me into giving up before we began. The building was an abandoned apartment complex, standing on half of a city block in the shit hole that was Inglewood. Most of the neighborhood had been abandoned six years ago after a petroleum fire razed twelve square blocks to the ground. That section stood cut off by police barricades and cement K-rails. The skeletal remains of LAX were only a few miles west.

Our site stood within view of the empty blocks, themselves still littered with rubble long ago picked clean by thieves. Fire trucks, police cars, and emergency vehicles crowded the street, making it impossible for our copter to land. We competed for sky space with several news crews, one of which finally took notice of us when I pushed open the door and poked my purple-streaked head out.

Gage grabbed my wrist to anchor me in the copter, but I had no intention of falling.

“Hey, Tempest!” I had to shout over the roar of the copter
blades. Tempest sidled up next to me. “Think you can get us down there?”

He peered over the edge of the copter floor. “As long as you don’t mind a slight free fall.”

“Do not worry for me,” Onyx said.

Over my shoulder, Onyx peeled out of his coveralls until he sat there in only those special briefs. He closed his eyes. His skin darkened as his body shrank. Feathers sprouted. His nose lengthened, and his arms disappeared into his body. Still fascinated by his shapeshifting, I watched until he had transformed completely. The raven blinked glowing green eyes at me, and then flew out the door.

“Show-off,” Gage said.

Tempest grabbed my right hand with his left, and Gage’s left hand with his right. Before I could ask what we should do, Tempest leapt from the copter and pulled me and Gage out with him.

Terror seized me as we free-fell toward the city street, less than three hundred feet below. I squeezed Tempest’s hand, too frightened to scream. A rush of wind circled us, roaring in my ears, and our descent slowed. Grime and dirt swirled into a funnel cloud, and we floated through the center, toward the ground.

We must have made quite a sight.

I didn’t let go of Tempest’s hand until my feet hit pavement. The cyclone ended immediately, and the roar was replaced with shouting voices. Rescue workers backed away, creating a circle around us. Onyx swooped down and landed, remaining in raven form.

“Warn a girl next time,” I said.

Tempest winked.

“Who’s in charge?” I asked the nearest fireman.

He pointed toward a cluster of fire engines. “Captain Hooper. What are you?”

“The answer to your prayers,” I quipped, and then looked down at Marco. “Onyx, do a flyover and get the lay of the land.”

The raven nodded and took to the sky in a ruffle of feathers and air. I envied him the freedom to fly like that.

“You’re Rangers, aren’t you?” a female voice asked.

I turned and located the woman near an ambulance. She wore an EMT uniform badly in need of an iron. Silver glistened in her black hair, and unlike the younger men and women around her, she didn’t seem at all surprised by our arrival at the scene.

“Yes, we are,” I said.

“I knew you’d come back. Always knew someday.”

Before I could ponder if she meant me specifically, or the Rangers as a group, Gage grabbed my arm and whisked me toward the makeshift command center. I tried to remember the woman’s face, so I could seek her out later if need be, and followed the boys.

Captain Hooper was easy to find. He stood hunched over the trunk of a police car, studying several sets of building blueprints, flanked on both sides by firemen and uniformed cops. He looked up as we approached, his mouth flopping open, utter shock settling into his aged features. White hair peeked out from beneath his cap, but that didn’t diminish the air of authority in his broad shoulders and square jaw.

He recovered quickly and suspicion replaced surprise. “What are you people doing here?”

“Lending a hand, if you think we’re needed, sir.” I pulled the civility out of my ass, even though the “you people” put my defenses up. Pissing off a police captain wouldn’t do much to ingratiate us with the populace.

Hooper’s attention shifted over my shoulder to Tempest and Gage. “You all have powers that can be useful in this situation?”

“Of course. We aren’t here to waste anyone’s time. I’m Trance, this is Tempest and Cipher. And please, Captain, tell your people not to shoot at a crow flying about, he’s with us.”

“We’re police, not game hunters.”

“Just so we understand each other. Where are the workers trapped, Captain? We need to know their locations and if any of the explosives still haven’t been detonated.”

“One pack hasn’t.” A young man wearing an orange hard hat shouldered his way forward. The name embroidered on his shirt said Anderson. “The northeast corner of the building only collapsed partway. That’s where my guys were placing the last pack when everything hit the fan.”

“How many men are down there?” Gage asked.

“Five still. Two got out on their own. Said they could hear the others screaming for help as they left, but their escape route fell in. We can’t get to them.”

I glanced at blueprints that read like gibberish. “Show me.”

Anderson and Hooper led us to the edge of the rubble; they’d had the foresight to set up their base near the trapped men. Eight stories of apartment building lay on top of them. Four stories of the northeast wall survived, a totem to the destruction. Anderson pointed to a spot of freshly disturbed bricks.

“That’s where they got out,” he said.

I squeezed Gage’s elbow. Walking as close as he dared to the rubble, he squatted down, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

“What’s he doing?” Hooper asked.

“Checking to see if the workers are still alive,” I replied.

Onyx landed next to Tempest and transformed back into his human shape. It was like watching a video recording backward, as he undid what he’d done earlier. He didn’t seem to mind being clad in just those black briefs. The man had the body of an underwear model, all tapered hips and chiseled abs—even if his mottled skin made him look like an advertisement for camouflage paint.

“See anything useful?” I asked.

“There may be a way in through the rubble, twenty feet to the center,” Onyx said. “It is a rough walk. I ventured inside, and some of the support beams created a tunnel into the first level.”

“Good, thanks.”

Gage stood up and walked back, his mouth pinched. “I only heard four heartbeats. Could smell a lot of blood, and something else.” He looked at Hooper. “Is all of the gas and electricity to this block shut off?”

“Yes,” Hooper said.

“It wasn’t on before,” Anderson added. “My guys went in with flashlights and lanterns. Property hasn’t had good electrical service for two years, since the owner went bankrupt. Why do you think we’re tearing it down?”

“Onyx found a way in,” I said to Gage. “I need you with us for orientation. Tempest, can you stay out here and be my eyes and ears?”

Tempest frowned. He seemed poised to argue, but didn’t. As much as I wanted to keep us together, his powers wouldn’t be very useful in an enclosed space.

“I’ll see about keeping a good airflow down to the workers,” he said.

“Thanks.”

Onyx transformed again, this time into the small black cat he’d been when we first met. With admonitions from Hooper and Anderson to be careful and “don’t make it worse,” Gage and I followed Onyx into the destruction.

He cut a swift trail over peaks and valleys of brick, plaster, metal beams, and wood planks. I noticed the smell that bothered Gage earlier; probably residue from the sequential explosions. The cacophony of the rescue teams melted into the background as we picked our way across, my mind focused entirely on the task at hand.

Minutes later, cat-Onyx disappeared around a twisted metal staircase. I turned the same corner and found an opening the size of a doggy door.

“This is your hole?” I asked, not sure if Onyx was in range of my voice.

I peered inside and saw nothing. The cat appeared; I jumped. He blinked twice, as if asking “what are you waiting for?” then ducked back inside.

“It sounds like it opens up a bit,” Gage said.

Trusting him on that, I inhaled deeply, sat down, and slid into darkness.

M
y feet hit something solid. I stood up just inside the darkness. Light poured down from the hole above, and I stepped forward to allow Gage room. My eyes adjusted slowly to my surroundings. We were in a stairwell, still mostly intact. I recognized a
4
painted on the wall nearby. We had a bit of traveling to do.

Gage slid down and landed gracefully. Onyx appeared further down the makeshift corridor, his feline eyes glinting in the dim light. He blinked once, turned, and disappeared. I followed a few steps, paused, then groaned.

“What?” Gage asked.

“Flashlight.”

“Shit.”

No time to go back and fetch one. I raised my left hand, palm up, and concentrated. The heat formed into a tight orb the size of a walnut. I focused on the heat, rather than the size, and as the temperature increased, the light grew brighter. It glowed like a 40-watt bulb, and I held the temp steady.

“You okay, Trance?”

“No problem.”

With our makeshift light source, I followed Onyx’s trail. The stairwell remained mostly intact, its metal staircase bent and broken in a few places, but passable. We skirted stone and brick and plaster debris as we descended. Onyx stayed just within the glow of my orb, rarely venturing too far forward. Several times the air grew thin and I caught the distinct odor of gas, then it was dispersed by a gentle breeze. I smiled, thinking of Tempest on the outside, helping us as best he could.

“Cipher,” I said, as we neared the bottom of the stairwell, “can you hear them?”

“Still four heartbeats.”

Our voices reverberated in the enclosed space. Something shifted above us, showering our path with dust and bits of stone. I froze, felt Gage’s hand on my shoulder, but that did nothing to calm my pounding heart. Several awful seconds passed before the wreckage settled.

“We should move faster,” I whispered.

At the bottom of the stairwell, the emergency door lay twisted half open. As entrances went, it was narrow and hard to maneuver. Onyx leapt through with ease. I bent and inserted one leg. Unable to manage without both hands, our light source disappeared, blanketing the narrow space in utter blackness.

I crawled through the hole and stepped back. An indignant cat screech shattered the silence.

“Sorry,” I said.

Onyx hissed.

“A little help here,” Gage said.

I re-created the light orb with less thought than the first time, and it glowed brighter. I smiled, pleased with my work. Not too bad, and no side effects so far. Gage slid into the room. We stood in a crushed hallway that seemed to extend forward a good forty feet. Three support beams had fallen across the path, and we ducked below them. The walls of the corridor remained mostly intact. The ceiling was a mess of exposed cables and beams, broken sheetrock and twisted metal fixtures. Some sections hung within two feet of the floor, forcing Gage and me to crawl. Each time, I had to drop the orb, and each rekindle proved faster and brighter.

My Vox beeped.

I pulled it from my belt holster. “Tempest, this is Trance, we’re here.”

“Pretty close. We’ve backtracked at least thirty feet to your position, near the northeast corner of the building.”

“We’ll do our best. Out.”

I put the Vox away. I didn’t need to be told to hurry; I felt the building settling.

The end of the corridor presented us with another challenge: water. Part of the floor had given away and filled in with tepid water, likely from busted pipes that hadn’t properly
drained. The nauseating odors of mildew and slime tingled my nostrils. Gage looked positively green, even under lavender light. Past four feet of water, a half-broken door hung askew. More water disappeared into the room beyond, and I heard a distant trickle as it ran out of sight.