Stronger (4 page)

Separated by heavy locked gates and armed guards, the Warrior Headquarters building sits next to the academy, sharing a runway and hangar with the school’s training planes.

I walk along the edge of campus, sneaking glimpses of the imposing building through the elaborate latticework of the wrought-iron fence surrounding Warrior Headquarters. As far as I know, the building’s walls have never been breached by an outsider, but that might be because no one has ever been foolish enough to try. Small windows are set into the structure’s imposing granite walls, tiny slits of shadow that seem to suck in the light like black holes.

Yelled orders and marching feet grow louder as I move past the fenced building. Bright lights flood the large exercise grounds that the warriors and students share. I stop in the shadows of an outbuilding. The fence ends here; nothing but fear separates me from Zac and his men. This late, only his troop remains on the field, illuminated by the rows of floodlights shining down out of the darkness. I watch in awe as Zac leads his men through a series of drills, taking the time to show each man how to improve.

Seeing him like this reminds me of all the times I’ve seen clips of him in battle on the holo-screens. Men like Zac make it impossible to hate all Vals. He is one of those who truly believe they are saving us from invasion, not quite realizing it’s already happened. Ty said Zac wouldn’t deal with a Deb, but a tiny corner of my heart hopes he’s wrong.

After another half hour, Zac dismisses the men. He holds a tight salute as the warriors move off, only snapping his hand crisply down as the last one passes him. Once alone, he does a few reps of the same drills himself. I’m about to call out for him when the tinkling of an Orion’s wings comes from above.

“Well, done Zachary,” Eclipse's voice says.

No! I want to shout a warning to Zachary but my tongue won’t work. Eclipse is the worst of the lot, the Orions’ resident assassin, and his methods are brutal. I consider running from my shadowed hiding place and throwing myself between Zac and the Orion sent to kill him. If I tried to fight Eclipse, my death would be quick, and probably futile, but I long to do something.

Zachary stands at attention. “Can I help you, sir?”

“I just wanted to thank you for the service you have given your planet.”

“Just doing my duty, Sir.”

Eclipse walks around Zac, his wingtips brushing the ground. “I wanted to see some of your training. Show me what you were demonstrating.”

Zachary draws the knife at his hip and swipes the blade through the air in a series of moves that practice blocks, slices, and stabs.

“We’ve been worried about you.” Eclipse smiles as he watches Zac throw the knife from one hand to the other, catching it with obvious precision.

“Have you?” Zac’s smooth movements continue as he speaks.

“Yes. We’ve noticed how sad you’ve been since returning home. We believe you’ve been contemplating taking your own life.”

Zac rolls the knife across the back of his hand and catches it in a firm grip. “No Sir; no thoughts of suicide.”

“But you lost so many men, good men, under
your
command. It would be so easy to end that pain, to make all that guilt disappear,” Eclipse says. “All you would have to do is Put. Your. Weapon. To. Your. Throat. And slice.”

Eclipse sends power through his words and I watch Zachary struggle against his own hand, shaking his head while his hand draws the knife closer to his throat. Even with the filters, I can hear how persuasive the voice is, how tempting it must be for him to kill himself. To put away all of his worries.

I want to help but what can I do? I think back to the videos shown on the history loops of the great Orions in battle. They prefer to compel and control, but when they choose to fight, they are quick, powerful, and deadly. I wouldn’t stand a chance.

Zac’s knife is at his throat. His eyes—wide and pleading—follow Eclipse as he circles his prey. “I don’t want to do this.”

Eclipse touches Zac’s forehead. “But you do. Because it would please me.”

Zac’s expression changes from pleading and fear to one of reverence and awe. It frightens me. I have to wipe that daze off his face. I
need
to. I’m dying anyway, right? What difference would staying alive one more night make?

I move out from the shadow and walk straight toward Zac. I have no plan, no idea whether I can help, but I have to try, even if it’s the last thing I ever do.

“Commander Collins, is that you?” I yell.

Eclipse swivels to face me, taking his hand from Zac’s face. The trance-like look on the Val’s face vanishes and his arm relaxes, letting the knife fall to the ground.

“What are you doing here, Deb?” Eclipse’s eyes smolder with anger, the silver glints glowing like a galaxy of stars in the dark depths of his heptagram-shaped pupils.

“I… I…” Words fail me. I close my eyes, ready for the attack I know is coming, but then I hear a familiar voice behind me.

“Bow in the presence of your betters, Deb.” Ty’s hand settles on my shoulder and pushes me to the ground. “Just because I sent you to find Commander Collins doesn’t mean you don’t show him the proper respect. My apologies, Commander.” He bows to the Orion, “Your eminence, I didn’t realize you would be here when I sent this idiot Deb to find Commander Collins. He’s needed in a meeting. I deeply apologize.”

Eclipse looks back between Zac and Ty one more time before speaking. “I have somewhere else to be now anyway. Collins, I’ll see you again.
Soon
.” With that, he spreads his wings and leaps into the air, disappearing into the dark night sky.

Ty turns toward me, speaking low so only I can hear. “Good job, Deb. I’ve got it from here.” Then in a voice loud enough to carry, “That will be all, Deb. Return to your assignments.” He waves me away dismissively, but winks at the same time.

He walks back to Zac, picking up the fallen knife and handing it to him. “Commander Collins, I need to speak with you.”

I get up and practically sprint back the way I came. My heart is still beating too fast and I know I can’t sleep, so I head away from my dorms. I wish I could spend the night treasuring his words of praise, but instead the scene I witnessed eats away at my mind like acid. With just a single touch, the Orion almost convinced a Val to end his own life.

I take the icy path that leads back to the city, feeling the need to check on Carlos, to see if I can convince him to leave tonight and join the rebellion in one of the cities abandoned after the wars. With every step I see Zachary with the knife to his throat, Eclipse relishing in his power. It propels me to move faster.

I enter the Val section of the city where tall skyscrapers gleam, their windows reflecting the flashing images of the holo-screens. My drab gray uniform and dyed hair immediately separate me from the Vals I pass. Some of their clothes cost more than my whole year’s pay. Suspicious glances are shot my way as I slip between the foot traffic.

I pull up Carlos’s address from the info Jena gave me. He lives on the thirteen floor of the Orbit, a luxury apartment for war heroes. I hesitate outside the revolving door. There’s no way they’ll let me in. Should I sit out here and wait? Maybe I can sneak in the service entrance. I’m about to enter the alley next to the high-rise when a guttural scream rips through the quiet of the night. It’s coming from above me and I glance up in time to see a man falling from the sky, arms and legs flailing. Above him a single figure rises into the night, wings outstretched. Even from here I recognize him. Eclipse.

I cringe at the horrible sound of flesh meeting pavement, the crunch of bones. I turn to look and instantly wish I hadn’t. What was once a human body lies twisted and splattered on the ground like an over boiled truff. The bright red gore makes bile rise in my throat and the rusty smell of blood makes me dizzy.

A small group has gathered on the walkway around the broken body. I don’t need to wait for them to ID the body. I already know it’s Carlos Mendoza. I’m too late.

Carlos was my responsibility. I failed. I take off, having to get away from his body.

It’s too much; my emotions short circuit, leaving me hollow.

Carlos is dead and I’ll be joining him soon. Those thoughts echo through my brain over and over. My nose is leaking slower but I’m still losing blood. It runs past my lips and down my chin but I no longer bother to wipe it away. Images of Zachary and Carlos keep looping through my thoughts, each playback pulling me from my safe place of numbness, awakening a wide cavern of anger. The world fades away and when it comes back I find I’m at the Sacred Square standing a few feet from the dome, staring into it.

The golden statues of their gods are beautiful, the altars of worship magnificent, and it makes me hate the aliens more.

We’re slaves to the Orions even if no one else sees it. We’re forced to do their bidding, to do anything they ask of us, even die on command. Zachary could have just as easily been my Uncle Charlie, or Bryant, or Ty. And now I’m dying. Despite all the work I did for the rebellion, my loved ones aren’t safe either. An anger I didn’t know I possessed grips me.

We don’t stand a chance against the Orions. There might only be thirty of them, but they seem indestructible. Nothing we’ve learned has given us an edge. They’re unbeatable. My whole body trembles with fury.

I glare at the golden statues the Orions worship. The ones that give them power over us, that protect them but destroy human life. The only things the Orions care about are these precious statues.

Just then the front door slides open a few yards away, and a Val rushes out, talking into his signacom. He turns and runs the other way around the dome, never even looking at me.

In a rage, I storm inside the dome before the door can close, not caring that I shouldn’t be here, or that the very air inside will kill me. Uncle Charlie wondered what would happen if someone were to touch an idol. Well I’m dying anyway; why not find out? Picturing Carlos’s broken body and Zachary’s knife at his throat, I run to the statues. I shove at one with every ounce of my strength, trying to topple it over. It doesn’t even budge, but where my skin touches it, a white-hot agony scorches through me. I can’t pull away and the pain intensifies. I try to scream, but I can’t take a breath. Do I still have hands or have they burnt off?

“What are you doing?” a Val demands, coming up behind me. He grabs my shoulders, trying to pry me free.

An ear splitting explosion rocks the dome. We’re thrown back, my hands wrenching from the statue. I land on the ground, the Val on top of me. His head cracks against a stone altar and his blood splashes onto my face, pooling around my eyes and seeping into my mouth. I’m writhing in pain, wishing for death as glass showers down on me.

I’m grateful when darkness pulls me under.

When my eyes struggle open, I’m pinned to the ground, staring up at the jagged tops of a cracked glass wall, the sharp, uneven triangles stabbing up into the purple night sky.

What happened? I remember the explosion. Did I cause it by touching the statue?

I feel a weight on top of me. How much marble and glass pin me to the ground? My shoulder is throbbing, my clothes torn. I’m covered in blood. If it’s my own, I have only seconds left to live.

I turn my head. Through my tears I can make out the debris holding me captive. The ruins of the building are strewn around me, fragments of marble and shards of glass, but directly on top of me is a Val. The one who tried to pry me from the statue. His body is limp, his chest isn’t moving. His cold cheek rests against my own. He’s dead.

I cry out, but choke on the smoke in the air.

“Someone’s alive!” A hand brushes debris from my face. I blink away the dust to see unfamiliar hazel eyes staring down at me. The face pulls away. “It’s just a Deb,” he says with a grunt.

The crunching footsteps move away.

They’re going to leave me here, alone? Maybe it’s better if the blood is mine. I won’t have to wait long.

“
Just
a Deb?” a voice asks. It’s a voice I know instantly. One I’ve known since childhood, one I’ve listened to in the feeds for unending hours and in the clips from his fan club. Bryant. I twist my head, but can only see rubble. His shoes shift shards of glass as he nears me. “A Deb is a human. When did a human life stop mattering?”

“Barely human,” the other says before walking away.

Bryant’s face appears above me. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world. He rolls the dead Val off of me. Breathing becomes easier, but the sudden cold makes me shiver. Bryant moves more rubble from off my legs and starts to say something, but cuts off when a metal support shifts and groans above us. Hanging by a thin strap, the heavy beam starts to fall slowly, creaking in its descent, heading right for me. I struggle, trying to free myself before I’m pinned again, but a blur of color throws itself on top of me. I feel the rasp of a deep breath, warm air hitting my face, a chest heaving above me.

“Are you okay?” Bryant asks.

I can’t breathe. I’m no longer being crushed, but I might as well be. Bryant is touching me. Practically lying on top of me.

He lifts up on his hands a little and his blue eyes stare at me. “Did I hurt you?”

My mouth is dry. I can’t talk but I manage to shake my head.

He gives me a quick smile. “Good. Give me a minute and I’ll get you out of here.”

“You will?”

He gives me a strange look. “Of course.”

“But I’m a Deb.”

“Right,” he says slowly. “And I’m a Val. It’s my job to protect you.”

I know that’s how it’s supposed to work. I’ve rarely seen it in action, though. I’ve heard tales of his and Ty’s kindness to Debs, but I’d been afraid to believe it.

He heaves himself up, straining against the heavy beam, and gets his feet underneath him. Lifting and shoving the support aside, he stoops again. Before I even know what he’s doing, I’m in his arms being carried, my head resting on his chest. His heart beats against my ear. Am I dreaming? How often has this very scenario played through my mind? Bryant saving me, holding me close. It’s my dearest dream coming true and if I have only moments to live, at least I’ll die with a smile on my face.

He carries me away from the wreckage to a stone bench. It’s chilly and I grimace as he lowers me onto it. His firm hands quickly run over me, warming my skin. A blush stains my cheeks.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Just checking you for injuries.”

I can tell that now. His touch is impersonal, searching for cuts or broken bones. There is nothing intimate about it. And yet it still makes me flush. While he continues to look for wounds I shake out my hair and clothes, shards of glass and dust fall all around me. It makes me feel better. Still sticky with blood, but better. Bryant wipes away some of the blood with snow, making my skin prickle.

His touch slows, becomes lighter, the rough pads of his fingertips trailing along my now bare shoulder. “Your skin is so smooth. Not the least bit scarred.”

I duck my head in shame, leaning away from his touch. The reminder that this moment won’t last is harsh. He’s a Val; I’m a Deb. He’s strong. I’m weak. He’s a masterpiece of scars showcasing his valor and courage, while a nosebleed has the power to kill me. I let my hair curtain my face.

“The blood doesn’t seem to be yours,” he says, moving his hand.

I’m not bleeding? At all? I remember the pain of glass slicing my skin. And my nose. It should still be bleeding. My fingers go to my nostrils. No blood.

How did I survive? I remember touching the statue, the agony of it. How do I even still have hands? They aren’t even burnt. I’m exhausted, drained but I feel… good. Healthy. What happened? I should be dead several times over.

“You’re very lucky.” Bryant crouches beside me. He lifts my hand, bending over it and for a second I picture him giving the back of my hand a kiss like in the old movies they sometimes play in the dorm, but instead he scans my wrist ID. “Your signacom’s not working, probably damaged in the explosion. Did you see what happened?”

I don’t answer, suddenly aware of the trouble I’m in. It might have been better if Bryant had let me die. At least that would have been a quick end.

Bryant types something into his wristband. “Stay here. They’re going to have questions for you.”

I nod. But as soon as he turns back to the wreckage I slip away. No way am I staying around to answer any questions. There are too many things I can’t explain, and the answers I do know won’t help me.

I stumble back to campus, cutting across the runway and sneaking past the hangar where the academy’s training planes are housed. Moving quietly through the morning, I make my way back toward the Deb dorm. As I slip through the doors, it dawns on me what I risked tonight by entering the Sacred Square. My signacom being damaged is a huge blessing; they can’t tie me to the blast. In my anger over Carlos’s death, I could have put the whole rebellion at risk.