The Bloom Series Box Set: Bloom & Fade (40 page)

Haven saw one child pointing back
toward the airport, and she turned to look. The thin man was
walking toward the plane. He was injured and his clothes were
slightly burnt. A slender trail of smoke rose from his coat as he
walked. Haven wondered what had happened to Bastian and Roku. The
thin man moved slowly but deliberately, as if he knew he had all
the time in the world. Haven ran. She ran away from the plane
because she knew he was coming for her, but she didn’t know what he
would do to the other passengers. She ran because she knew without
knowing that he was the person who crashed the plane, and if he was
that strong—if he could use his Conduit ability to bring down an
airplane—then no one was safe while she was nearby.

The thin man watched her run and
changed course. He stopped and looked up at the sky as if he heard
a distant noise, then turned back toward the airport. A luggage
cart sped toward the wrecked airplane. Bastian drove and Roku rode
on the bench next to him, both of them staring intently ahead. A
moment later, a pale yellow streak of energy erupted from Bastian’s
fist and slammed into the thin man’s chest. He screamed as he was
launched into the air and flew back ten feet. The plasma dissipated
and he fell to the ground in a sizzling heap.

Bastian stopped the luggage cart next
to Haven and got out from behind the wheel. Roku hopped out of the
passenger’s seat and went around back, toward the thin
man.

“
You alright?” asked
Bastian, looking Haven over.

“
Just a few scratches.
What about you?”

He and Roku both looked as if they had
been fighting hard. A long cut ran down one side of Bastian’s face
and one sleeve of his jacket was ripped to shreds, revealing a
bloody arm beneath.

“
We’ll live,” he said.
“You should get out of here. Take the buggy. We’ll look after these
folks.” He nodded toward the passengers.

“
They’ve seen what you can
do,” said Haven.

“
Ay, that they have. It’s
gonna cost Helix a bundle to keep them quiet.” The idea seemed to
make him genuinely happy.

“
I’ll stay and fight,”
said Haven. She tried to go to the other side of the luggage cart
but Bastian grabbed her arm.

“
He can’t get his hands on
you, Haven. There’s no telling what Alistair will do if he has you.
Roku and I will take care of this.”

There was a sudden shift in air
pressure and the breath was instantly sucked out of Haven’s chest.
Her vision blurred and she became dizzy. The same thing happened to
Bastian. He blinked heavily and stumbled against the luggage
cart.

“
Go,” he whispered.
“
Now
.”

He moved around to the other side of
the cart and there was a brilliant flash of yellow light. The thin
man rolled away from the luggage cart, yellow plasma trailing after
him. Haven could breathe again. She quickly got into the cart and
slammed down the gas pedal. The cart wouldn’t do more than fifteen
miles an hour, but it was enough to get her back to the main
section of the airport. She passed several emergency vehicles on
the way, sirens blaring as they sped toward the plane.

Haven stopped the cart outside of the
nearest terminal. An employee in a bright orange vest ran up to her
to make sure she was alright, then helped her inside the airport
and called for a doctor. Most of what happened after that was a
blur. Someone told her that the other passengers would be looked
after. Amid the noise, she overheard a flight attendant assuring a
group of people that the airline would do everything it could to
make sure the passengers of the plane made it back home
safely.

Haven looked out through the window
across the tarmac as people buzzed around her, giving her water,
cleaning her cuts, asking her questions. She watched the small
bursts of pale yellow light in the distance by the crashed
airplane—she watched three small figures dance around as they
fought for survival.

8

C
olton awoke to the sound of screaming. He sat up quickly and
almost vomited from the nausea that rolled through his stomach like
a wave. He was in his own bed in his own room—alone. The metal door
to the corridor which led to the main dome room was sealed. Colton
swung his legs slowly over the edge of the mattress and stood,
waiting a moment for his head to clear. His throat was dry and he
felt as if he hadn’t eaten in days. The middle of his chest burned
as he remembered the blue arc of lightning slamming him to the
ground before he lost consciousness.

His room was a small compartment off
the main dormitory hallway next to the Grove. It looked more like a
room in a submarine than actual living quarters, with its
rust-covered metal walls and a porthole-type door set two feet off
the ground. A big metal wheel with a horizontal locking mechanism
was bolted to the middle of the heavy door.

Colton grabbed the wheel and used what
little strength was in him to try and open the door. It was
useless—locked from the outside. When he let go of the wheel it
felt like he had just sprinted ten miles. He sank to the ground,
breathing heavily from what should have only been minor exertion.
He held out his hands. Faint black lines ran beneath his skin. He
pulled up the cuffs of his pant legs and looked at his shins and
calves—the thin black veins were very dim beneath his skin, but
they were there, creeping higher up his legs.

He sat on the floor, trying to catch
his breath, when the wheel on the door clanked to one side. Colton
quickly stood and backed away as the door swung open. He was
careful to slow his breathing and hide his exhaustion.

A big man wearing a full set of black
body armor stepped into the room. He wore a black, streamlined gas
mask that hugged his face tightly, almost like an ultra-thin
motorcycle helmet. Instead of a single visor as a face-shield, the
mask had two faceted oval patches for eyes, like the eyes of a
giant hornet.

The mouth of the mask protruded
slightly from the sleek material around it and hissed menacingly as
the soldier approached. Some kind of rebreather apparatus, thought
Colton—protection from poisonous gas. A small black tube ran from
the bottom of the mask to the soldier’s back, where a slender black
box rested between his shoulders. The rest of his armor was Kevlar
plating, separated into flexible chunks that shifted fluidly with
his movements to offer maximum coverage at all times. He wore a
bullet-proof vest over the armor for added protection.

The soldier carried a heavy automatic
rifle with a high-capacity magazine in his thick hands, held
casually at his waist as if he was completely sure Colton wouldn’t
give him any trouble.

If he could have,
he
would
have.

Colton’s ability was almost completely
nullified. He had been trying to pull in some energy to try and
offset his exhaustion, but it was impossible. He was able to draw
in a small amount, but he could not store it for future use. The
energy he absorbed from the air around him seeped out through his
skin against his will—it was as if the imaginary battery in his
chest would not hold a charge. Whatever they did to Colton, it
stripped him of his Conduit ability and left him broken.

The guard stood perfectly still,
staring at him with cold calmness. The multifaceted eye patches in
his helmet reflected Colton’s face in a thousand tiny pieces. A
moment later, the guard stepped aside to reveal someone else
standing directly behind him—the young woman who had descended
through the dome room ceiling with blue lightning.

Colton took a deep breath and
straightened his back. He lifted his chin and stared straight into
her eyes. She returned his stare with the same detached quality of
the guard, then her eyes drifted around the room, inspecting the
bed, the sink, the desk, the chair, and all of Colton’s personal
effects. She touched the guard’s shoulder and he promptly turned
and left the room. The door remained open. Colton looked at it for
a moment, then back at the woman.

“
What did you say your
name was again?” he asked. He tried to inject his voice with as
much confidence as he could muster, even though his knees felt like
jelly. Colton had never been so tired in his life.

“
Kamiko,” she answered
quietly, still studying the room. “Masura.”

Her feet made no sound as she walked
around his small apartment. She picked up a frame with a picture of
Colton’s mother inside, inspected it for a moment, then set it down
exactly where she found it. Next to the picture frame was a small
jewelry box. She picked it up and Colton took a step
forward.

“
Leave it alone,” he said.
He could feel his face getting hot.

She looked at him, then opened the box
and held up the slender silver chain contained within. At the end
of the chain was a small diamond star set in silver. It glinted in
the dull glow of an overhead light as it spun slowly from her hand.
Colton was going to give it to Haven for her eighteenth birthday. A
light twinkle shone in Kamiko’s dark eyes as she watched the
necklace spin.

“
Girlfriend?” she asked
with a mocking smile.

Colton was too weak to answer. He
blinked heavily and sat on the bed, no longer able to
stand.

“
The weakness will pass,”
said Kamiko. She set down the box and continued her slow circuit
around the room. She lifted a stack of papers, inspected them, and
returned them to their place. “You will soon find your strength
returning, though it will be a false strength. There is no cure for
your disease.”

“
What did you do to us?”
asked Colton. He rubbed the burning spot on his chest.

“
I want to see if you can
figure it out,” she said. Her face was emotionless but Colton
thought he detected a hint of amusement. “The last group never did.
Most of them died screaming.”

And then she smiled.

9

H
aven stepped off the plane at sunset, three hours after the
airline found her backpack in the wreckage and put her on a private
flight home. The doctors at the airport in Chicago cleared her for
travel and she had waited in a daze while planes were rerouted for
the passengers of the crashed flight. No one else was going to
Bozeman, so Haven had the whole plane to herself.

Gallatin Field Airport was only a
short drive from the Dome. It was a connecting airport that was
perfect for private jets and small propeller planes—she remembered
with a twinge of sadness that her mother used to call them
“puddlejumpers”. The airport was mostly used to connect passengers
to a larger hub where they hopped on giant airbuses which took them
across the country and beyond.

No one Haven knew was waiting for her
when she got off the plane. She hadn’t been expecting anyone—of
course they didn’t know when she was getting back or any other
details about her impromptu trip—yet she still felt slightly
disappointed. If the Dome had a phone she would have called. Strict
security definitely had its downsides.

There was, however, one
man waiting for her whom she did
not
know. He stood holding a sign
with her name on it near baggage claim. He was short, with a small
mustache and a large diamond earring in his left ear that seemed
really out of place. He wore a dark suit and sunglasses, with a hat
too small for his head. Haven shouldered her backpack and walked
over to the driver.

“
That’s me,” she said,
smiling. The effort made her head hurt—she had bumped it inside the
plane during the crash, although she couldn’t remember the exact
circumstances of the injury. She hadn’t even noticed the goose egg
behind her left temple until well after she got on the plane which
took her to Gallatin. She had parted her hair in the bathroom
mirror to see a swollen lump of purple flesh on her scalp. It still
throbbed with her heartbeat.

The driver from the airline bobbed his
head and led her out of the airport to a long limousine in the
parking lot. Haven stopped for a moment before getting in. “How
much did this thing cost?”

“
Not a thing, Madame. It
is complimentary. For your trouble.”

Madame, huh?
thought Haven.
I can get
used to this.

“
Still going to the
parking garage downtown?” asked the driver.

“
That’s the
one.”

“
Excellent, Madame.
Excellent.”

Haven tossed her backpack into the
limo and climbed in after it. Sweet, cool air pushed her hair back
and she closed her eyes to relish the sensation. She reached up to
tilt all of the air vents directly onto her aching head. The driver
closed the door, sealing her inside the dark compartment. The
windows of the stretch limo were so tinted that Haven couldn’t see
him walk to the front of the car and get in. A moment later, the
front door closed and the engine purred to life.

The passenger area of the limo was
long, lined with bulging leather seats. Two mini-bars, one on each
side, boasted an array of hard liquor and bottled waters. Haven
grabbed a bottle of water and twisted off the top. The limo rolled
slowly out of the parking lot and picked up speed on the highway as
the driver headed toward downtown Bozeman. The Dome was outside of
town, but—as much as she wanted to—Haven couldn’t very well tell
the driver to drop her off at her own front door. Besides, she
couldn’t return to the Dome without Dormer’s black sedan, which was
in the parking garage. He was forgiving to a point, but never with
the car.