The Proving (26 page)

“We need lights, Persian,” Skye whispered in the darkness.

Gabriel reached out, grabbing the shoulder plate of someone smaller. He wasn’t sure if it was Wei or not, but whoever it was let him keep it there. He felt dizzy in the darkness. His smartglasses slowly adjusted, trying to enhance what little light was coming from the tiny emergency bulbs somewhere above. Everything turned a dark green, but he could at least make out dark shapes. Large steel crates sat stacked in two neat rows off to his right. To his left, the chubby silhouette of Reza appeared out of a greenish shadow, his pistol aimed toward the ground. The gun shook in his hands.

Gabriel knelt, keeping his hand on the Persian boy’s back. “It’ll be OK,” he whispered. He didn’t believe himself, though. A thousand thoughts were running through his head, and they were all had the same theme: foolishness. He shouldn’t have cast his vote to come here. This was a mission for a real Coterie, not a rag-tag group of kids. So why had he done it?

To uphold the values of the Coterie. That was the only answer his brain offered.

Skye moved through the darkness with purpose, barking orders. She tapped Ben on the shoulder. He was near the other side of the loading bay, one arm wrapped around his sister. Gabriel recognized Tahlia’s fluffy hair.

“Back,” Skye ordered. “Ten steps away from the loading bay doors. Go. Cleo, we need lights!”

“I’m trying to reconnect with facility Wi-Fi,” Cleo said. “My networking app ith a little thpotty.”

“What?”

“Thpotty. I bit my tongue.”

By Hades, even when she wasn’t
intentionally
acting like a clown . . .

The dim light from her VRacelet temporarily blinded Gabriel until his glasses adjusted again. With the assist from the VRacelet, the green night vision became more pronounced and he could see Wei now. She was near the steel crates on the other side of the loading bay, standing behind the Spartan boy. The Spartan boy had taken Wei’s pistol and was holding one in each hand, aiming them at the door. Wei stayed behind him, one hand hooked around his belt.

Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief. She was probably safer near him, all things considered.

“There are three left,” Skye said, hefting her VR rifle and aiming it at the shutters. “They’ll make their way around the Tumblers, avoiding the shields. Then they’ll phase through the steel shutters. It won’t be easy — the shutters are thick. Don’t fire right away or they’ll pull back and try to pin us here and there’s no telling
what might already be in here
. I’d rather not have to worry about watching our backs.”

“Got it,” Gabriel said. He swallowed his fear. His voice hadn’t sounded too afraid, had it? He wanted to at least pretend he was strong, for the Persian boy’s sake. “Lift up your gun just a bit,” he whispered, putting a hand under the boy’s and lifting his pistol up a bit so it was aimed at the steel shutters. “We’ll get through this.”

“Historian!” Skye shouted, walking toward them. Gabriel turned and realized for the first time that Seamus was crouching behind him, his gun still attached to his belt. With the night vision activated he was nothing more than a green shadow . . . but it was still obvious he was afraid.

They were all afraid. But Seamus was
cowering
.

Skye grabbed Seamus by the shoulder. “You’re not shooting over the shoulder of Parliament’s prodigal son.” She set him beside Reza. “Pull your gun now before —”

Wei’s scream echoed in the loading bay.

A pair of luminescent fiery orange jaws slipped through the steel shutters. A crocodile-like snout, mouth hanging open, its long tongue flicking out to taste something in the air. The entire loading bay seemed to ignite. Wei’s and Cassidy’s shadows drew across the solid floor as if fleeing in terror.

Wei was still screaming.

“Hold your fire!” Skye shouted with what Gabriel thought to be an incredible composure. His own legs were quivering, the muscles tense and sore from the sprint from the Tumbler to the facility. He wanted to stand but he felt like he had to keep one arm around Reza for both their sakes. He pointed his pistol.

Wei’s scream died out as she ran out of breath. Her scream was replaced by something much worse: the Specter’s low moan. It rattled a pair of tools sitting atop one of the shipping containers. Gabriel could feel it under his skin.

Another pair of glowing bright red crocodile jaws emerged. Then a pair of insect-like mandibles, followed by a mitre-shaped head with bulbous eyes. Three Specters, phasing slowly through the steel shutters. Two crocodile-like Sebecus, one insectoid Manteidos.

They’d made a horrible mistake coming here.

“Wait,” Skye said calmly.

“We have to shoot them,” Gabriel whispered.

“
Wait
,” Skye said.

The two newcomers glowed a bright red, spilling a bloody glow over Gabriel and Reza and Seamus.
Red
. By Hades, their color
wasn’t diminishing at all
as they phased through the steel. The gory color spread across the entire loading bay, revealing its expansiveness. Gabriel turned right, taking in Skye’s hardened face and hoping a little of her overflowing courage might spill onto him.

The moans of all three Specters seemed to resonate from every direction, echoing behind them. The hairs on the back of Gabriel’s neck vibrated stood on end. These things weren’t ghosts . . . they were something much more, and it only made them more frightening. How many shots would it take to stop
red
Specters? They could run. They could run deeper inside the facility right now and hide, maybe, until dawn. There was time . . . not much time, but maybe just enough to get a safe distance away . . .

The Manteidos Specter’s knife-like forearms pushed through the steel shutters. The other two were halfway through now, their reptilian heads panning left and right. Their jaws opened and closed. What did they see? Gabriel wondered. What did they
sense
?

One glowing, reptilian red eye found Gabriel. The one in the center, larger than its sibling. Its eye stayed on Gabriel. Its crocodile jaws opened.

Maaaaaawwwwwwwwwww . . .

It could see him. It was choosing him. It would come after him the moment it was through the door. It was the predator and he was the prey, singled out for no apparent reason except that this particular Specter
wanted
him
.

They had to run.

“Wait for my command,” Skye said. She aimed her rifle and fired at the Manteidos, peppering its body with blue proton bullets that tore through it, spilling yellow sparks. Its color dimmed to a dark orange, but only for a moment as it began drawing energy from the other two. The Manteidos Specter’s red color returned at the expense of its companions.

“Skye,” Gabriel tried to whisper, but his voice caught in his throat, choking him. A tear squeezed out of his left eye. His entire body felt numb, his legs quivering, the VR pistol shaking in his hand. Underneath his glove, he could feel the sweat on his palms squishing against the fabric. Why had they done this? Why had they come to this place? They were just kids. They weren’t heroes. They weren’t a
real
Coterie. Real Coteries were made up of real adults
who knew what they were doing.

The Manteidos Specter reached down and grabbed the floor. Its sharp claws disappeared into the concrete. It pulled its heavy body through the steel shutters — it was glowing so brightly that Gabriel’s smartglasses automatically shut off the night vision setting.

“Ben and Historian, focus your fire on the Sebecus in the middle,” Skye ordered. “Gabriel, help me with the bug. Everyone else focus on the Sebecus to the far right. Squeeze the trigger slowly so you maintain your aim.”

The big Sebecus in the middle was still staring at Gabriel. It
saw
him. If it came through . . ., it would come right for him. Knowing that sent his creative mind into a frenzy, imagining what would happen: a pair of jaws closing over his shield, draining it. The ghost-like teeth passing through his body, robbing him of his very soul . . .

He tried to protest, but his lungs were drowned with fear. And then Skye shouted “Now!” and it was too late. Everyone began firing, their blue proton bullets ripping through the air and tearing into the Specters. Gabriel aimed at the big Sebecus, right for the creature’s eye. He fired again and again, feeling the pistol gently kick with each pull of the trigger. He wanted to kill it himself. He wanted to punish it for even
thinking
of making him a victim. This was his planet.
His,
not theirs
.

The Sebecus Specter’s ethereal body ripped apart with each bullet. Its glow diminished, the red fading to orange, like a flame desperately licking at a nearly spent piece of wood. The Sebecus let out a long moan, opening its mouth wide. Gabriel fired at its mouth, feeling a rush of satisfaction when one of the bullets cut through its tongue. The tongue exploded like a Carnivale firework, gently fluttering to the ground in a spray of yellow ashes.

“Die,” Gabriel whispered, squeezing the trigger again and again. “Die!”

The big Sebecus Specter’s color faded. It pulled its humanoid arms through the shutters, its body turning a cloudy yellow. Gabriel kept firing, unable to keep his finger from pulling the trigger again and again. How
dare
it mark him for death? How dare it treat him like
prey
? Was it still there, or was it simply his eyes playing a trick on him? The glow was still there. He could still see it every time he blinked. He kept firing.

“Stop! Stop!” Skye shouted.

Gabriel stopped. His glasses readjusted just in time to see Skye walking over, reaching up with her rifle and using its butt to swat his pistol out of his hand. “What was that?” she asked. She turned to her brother. “Did you see the other one die?”

Cassidy shook his head. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “It might have drawn more energy from the others.”

“What happened?” Ben asked. “Are we safe?”

“We don’t know,” Skye snarled. She pointed the butt of her VR rifle at Gabriel. He cringed, half-expecting her to smack him across the face. “Mr. Parliament here was shooting at the wrong Specter. I said shoot the bug.”

Gabriel felt anger course through him. “I helped . . .”

“You didn’t help,” Skye said, turning back to him and glaring. “You did the opposite of helping. We could have killed all three Specters if you’d just listened to me. Now the alpha got away, and who knows what it’s going to do? It could come back. It could call for help. We have no idea.”

“It’s wounded,” Gabriel said shakily. His glasses readjusted to the darkness as the last few yellow shards of ash faded. His trembling body told him they were safe again. So why was Skye so angry? “You
had
to have wounded it. It’s . . . I mean, when dawn comes, it’s going to go underground and then we’ll be safe.”

“Or it’ll try and get back in here,” Skye said. “With some extra friends.”

“It’s possible,” Ben said gently, “but unlikely. We don’t know with certainty just how complicated the Specter communication system is.”

“Why didn’t you just listen to me?” Skye asked Gabriel, in his face now so close that he could smell her damp breath. “I knew what I was doing!”

A voice in Gabriel’s head told him to apologize. It was his fault and he’d made a mistake. He’d shot at the big Sebecus because it had made things personal. Or . . . at least, Gabriel had perceived it that way. But stubbornness got the best of him and so he stayed quiet. He wouldn’t give the Spartan the satisfaction of dressing him down, even here in the pitch-blackness of a secret research facility and why-oh-why hadn’t they just gone home?

There was a wounded Specter outside. They were trapped inside this place, with whatever other dangers that existed here, until dawn. His fault and no one else’s.

“Um,” Ben said. “Cleo, can you get us some lights?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Her shadowy green figure moved to the other side of the loading bay, near a small office lined with wide windows. “All this excitement and I totally forgot we’re hanging out in the dark. Imagine that.”

Skye took a deep breath, holstering her VR rifle to the magnetic strip on her back. She looked at her brother, giving him a quick nod. The boy holstered his pistols, then put an arm around Wei’s shoulder. Gabriel wanted to tell him to let go, but then Cassidy was urging her toward him. She ran into his arms and he knelt down, hugging her tight. He could smell the sweet, flowery scent of her favorite shampoo in her hair.

“I don’t ever want to see a Specter again,” she whispered.

“Let’s try to make that a reality,” he told her. “As soon as dawn breaks, we’re getting out of here. I’m sorry for dragging you here, little bug.”

The lights turned on. Gabriel’s glasses again turned off the night vision setting, eliminating the green tint on everything. Wei was Wei again. He looked around. The loading bay reached up two stories, with thin lights running between a crane system made up of magnetic tracks attached to steel beams built into the rock. Half the lights weren’t functioning, leaving the entire loading bay in a dim, half-darkness. There was just enough light for Gabriel to see that the large shipping crates stacked on the opposite end had no company logo printed on the side. No insignia of any kind.

Cleo was standing at the entrance to the small office. There were two computer consoles inside, along with two chairs. Only one chair was empty. The other chair was pushed up against a corner, beside a tall control panel whose touchscreen was in the process of rebooting. A man sat in the chair, staring up at the ceiling, his mouth hanging open. His skin was wrinkled and gray. His fingers looked tense, as if he’d been clutching some imaginary object.

“Gross!” Reza said. Cleo turned and, seeing the body, hurried out of the room with a terrified squeal.

“There were others outside,” Ben said. “They were killed before they made it inside.”

“. . . Or they died protecting the facility,” Skye added. “This was a bad idea.”

Ben offered the Historian a hand, pulling him to his feet. The Historian’s gun was hanging limply in his hand. Had he fired at all? It wasn’t just Gabriel’s fault, then. Had Skye seen that?