Wiped (13 page)

It was a goodbye.

No
.

And then the u-Pol officer aiming the guns at us said something. And the one holding Beck frowned. They started talking rapidly to each other, laser guns aimed at us and Beck and the Cardinal that was coming around on the ground. But their conversation was frantic. Excited.

There was too much damn excitement right now.

Then the u-Pol officer holding Beck said in heavily accented Anglisc, “Are you the one they call Zebra?”

Trent made a sound of protest, but all I could see was Beck’s resigned face. And those Lunnoners we’d killed. And the Wiped in the containers on the freight ship we’d rescued. And Augustine Tengku. And Yeh Zhang Yong and his family. And the Masked.

All I could see was our failure if this didn’t work.

“Yes,” I said. Trent swore. Beck closed his eyes. “I am The Zebra.”

Everything changed after that.

I
t was
what had saved Beck’s life. But I couldn't be happy about that. Lena had exposed herself. Had risked herself. Not five minutes after she'd promised me she'd do whatever was necessary to survive.

I was spitting mad.

But at least we were still alive. And in custody. And inside Hammurg’s impenetrable walls.

I guess that was a start.

Lena
. I frowned at the floor. My heart plummeting along with my line of sight. What would they do to her now?

What
were
they doing to her now? Hal-gen, like Mikhail had used on me? One thing Urip was good at was drugs. Serenity Tabs. Hallucinogens. Uppers. Downers. You name it, they made it.

And they could be using any of them on Lena right now.

I stood up and started pacing. Fuck! This had gone so wrong. I could only hope Alan and Irdina had had better luck.

Somehow, I doubted it.

The door swooshed opened at the end of the corridor interrupting my demonic strides. I rushed to the glass partition holding me inside my cell. Across the way, Beck stood at his own glass, his eyes met mine briefly, and then shifted to look down the corridor as well.

Lena appeared. I could have cried with happiness. Her head held high, her shoulders back, pale skin unmarred, Elite eyes shining defiantly bright.

And the sleeve of her freak-suit rolled up to reveal the black inked lines of a barcode tattoo etched into the underside of her forearm.

Bile coated my throat. My fist pounded on the unbreakable glass. I'd kill them. I'd kill them all for marking my woman. For marking Lena.

She shook her head at me. Just once. "I'm OK," she mouthed. My hand flattened on the glass between us, as fucking tears made the world distort.

The officer took her to an empty cell, just out of sight. I held my breath, wanting to move, wanting to do something,
anything
, to make this better. The glass under my hand buzzed, breaking my silent vigil; a warning. I stepped back. The u-Pol officer approached.

Showtime.

My gaze met Beck's. He didn't nod or make a move, but somehow I knew he was ready.

This was it. They’d taken Lena first, ruining any chance of retaliation. We’d waited in muted agony for her return and a chance to fight back.

Finally.

The glass disappeared and I stiffened. But nothing prepares you for first contact. The electrical pulse coursed through my veins, making me clench my teeth, moan an involuntary sound of distress, and collapse to my knees on the white stone floor.

The handcuffs snapped shut around my wrists, but my body still jerked spasmodically.

"Your turn," the u-Pol guy announced in crisp Anglisc.

They’d been prepared.

They were so sure of themselves. So precise in their movements, as if they'd practiced them time and again. There was no fear we'd retaliate. No thought at all of us escaping. They had this down to a fine art.

But they'd not considered their opponent. They'd not faced anyone like us. Wánměi had been the same. Stuck in a web of its own making.

Wánměi above all others. Wánměi leads the way.

Such conceit. Such arrogance. Such blind faith in themselves.

I struggled to my feet, still battling the effects of the taser, my eyes meeting Beck's. The u-Pol officer trained his gun on me; ignoring the Cardinal across from us.

Such arrogance.

So when Beck started throwing himself against the glass of his cell, yelling and screaming all manner of abuse at the man, the officer paused. Attention split. Confusion reigning.

That’s all it took.

I head-butted him. Snatching his laser gun with my bound hands, whacking him over the temple with the butt, and spinning to fire at the overhead camera lenses,
zap-zap-zap
, and then the control panel of the door into this block. Sparks flew. I took a breath.

It was over in seconds, but we were by no means out of danger just yet.

"Get Lena!" Beck yelled. And fuck me, I wanted to. But I'd been trained better than that.

I blasted Beck's glass. It didn't shatter. I rushed to the control panel and tried to decipher the keys. Everything was foreign.

Except for one thing. A scanner. Not for retinas like in Wánměi. But for barcodes.

I turned to the unconscious u-Pol officer and dragged his sorry arse towards the glass. Swiping the barcode on his arm over the scanner, the keypad lit up, flashing maniacally, awaiting a command.

"Fuck," I muttered. I still had no idea what to press.

"Top right, bottom left, centre, and top right again," Beck said in a rush.

I blinked at him. He shrugged.

"Watched him open yours."

Bloody hell. Finally a little luck. I pressed the keys Beck had mention and held my breath. The glass buzzed and retracted, and the Cardinal stepped out nodding his head. Within seconds he had my cuffs released, and in unison we moved out. He opened the remaining glass cells housing his Cardinals, dragging the fallen u-Pol officer behind him like a rag-doll, while I rushed to Lena.

She was curled up on the thin mattress along the back wall of her cell. Back to the glass. Face to the wall. So fragile.

“Lena!" I called. She didn't stir.

My heart fell.

Beck approached then, hauling the officer over by the arm. He dumped him at my feet unceremoniously. Then took one look at Lena and frowned. Reaching down, Beck lifted the guy up by the wrist, holding his barcoded arm out straight, a foot off the floor.

And nowhere near the scanner.

"Cut it off," he said, his voice a mere growl.

My brow arched, but I didn't question his barbarism. This bastard had taken Lena to wherever she'd received that tattoo. He was the reason why she was curled up in a helpless ball inside her cell.

I fired up the gun. Met Beck's steady, emotionless gaze. And severed the limb with laser light.

There was no blood. This particular laser clearly cauterised its wounds. Handy. But the man
did
scream blue murder as he lost his fucking arm.

One well placed punch to the side of his head by Beck, and he was silent. But his silence only made the sound of his comrades trying to get in the cell block that much louder.

"Hurry," I said. We were running out of time.

Beck scanned the guard's barcode, unencumbered now by the weight of his body, and entered the combination of keys on the pad. The world froze as we waited for the glass to retract.

I was beside Lena in the next instant, my hands shaking as I looked down on the swollen, red skin surrounding her own barcode.

"Baby," I whispered, and watched the tears slip past her long lashes.

It took everything in me not to roar my rage at the world.

They would pay for this. God help them, they would pay.

Lena rolled over, feeling my warmth, or hearing my ragged breaths, I don’t know. She blinked up at me, offered a watery smile, then held her arms out for me to hold her. I’m not sure who clung to who, but nothing reached us in our little bubble.

It was Lena who pulled back, wiping her beautiful eyes, sucking in a shaky breath, and meeting the gaze of the angry Cardinals standing to attention at the opening to her cell.

“Do you understand now,” she said, voice strong considering, “why we’re doing this?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they all intoned uniformly.

She held up her arm, the barcode facing out, the redness around the black stark by contrast.

“This is wrong,” she said. “This is wrong,” she repeated, as if it bore being said again.

“Lena,” I murmured, I’m not quite sure what I would have said.

“They’ve marked our Wiped,” she whispered, but we all heard her. We all heard the anger and rage and defiance in every syllable she uttered.

We felt it along with her.

If I could wear that mark for her, I would have. If I could take that weight and ease her suffering, I’d do it in an instant.

But I couldn’t. Lena had been the one to be marked. Not me. Not Beck. Not the Cardinals who all stood together behind me in utter solidarity.

But we
could
make this better. We would. For her. For our Wiped. For Lunnon’s Lost.

For any unfortunate soul who had been forced to wear a barcode.

Wánměi had scanned retinas. An indignity that we’d borne in silence for far too long. But those scanners were gone and our eyes were once again ours.

This… this was not so easily forgotten.

And maybe it shouldn’t be. Maybe every time we looked at Lena it wouldn’t be with pity but with rage. She wore her hair in black and white stripes. She now wore her defiance just the same.

“They will pay,” I vowed. The Cardinals shouted agreement.

The walls vibrated. The floor rolled. For a second I thought we might have had divine consensus.

The Cardinals’ heads swivelled towards the entrance to the cell block, as my eyes fell to the one and only laser gun we possessed.

“I’ll go first,” I said, knowing Lena would argue.

She didn’t.

And that perhaps scared me the most.

I flicked my gaze over her shattered body. If you didn’t know Lena, you’d think she was just the same. Unhurt.

But I knew her. And I knew she’d been broken today. Lines etched in skin mean nothing. Just lines of black ink, nothing more.

But the reason why they were there said it all.

I fisted the laser gun and started towards the entrance of Lena’s cell, only to meet a solid wall. Beck held out his hand in front of me, palm up and open, face hard. I met his eyes. He purposefully glanced toward Lena. My teeth ground, my hands fisted, but I handed him the gun.

Sometimes you lead. Sometimes you follow.

And sometimes there’s more important things than fighting for the world.

I turned towards my Elite and helped her to her feet. Fingers intwined, voice a soft murmur, I gave her the support she needed, stowing my anger and rage for now.

“Trent,” she said quietly, as we made our way to the rattling door.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m OK,” she whispered. My chest tightened. My eyes watered. Inside I screamed and raged.

“I know, baby,” I said. “Because we’re gonna get out of here. We’re gonna free the Wiped, find the Lost, and flick Calvin’s switch.”

“Yeah,” she said, as we halted beside the now buckling door. Beck met my eyes. I nodded my head.

“And afterwards,” I murmured, brushing my lips in amongst her hair, “I’m gonna marry you, Lena Carr. Mark my words.”

You couldn’t hear it, but I felt it. From her shaking shoulders right into my aching heart.

Lena let out a silent sob.

R
emember who you are
. Remember you’re Lena Carr.
Calvin’s words reverberated in my mind, blocking out the sound of laser gun fire and soldiers yelling and the roof cracking and the floor rumbling and Trent shouting in my ear to take cover.

Remember who you are. Remember you’re Lena Carr.

My fingers reached for the barcode, hovering. It stung. Not anything that would bring you to your knees. But enough for you to notice it. To be reminded. To never forget.

Remember who you are.

They’d tied me down. The machine they’d used had made a low buzzing sound, a thump-thump-thump in the background. The nails of the u-Pol officer who etched the tattoo had broken skin, digging in as he gripped my wrist as an extra precaution.

I’d been gagged. But my eyes hadn’t been blindfolded. I’d seen everything.

The harsh lights. The sharp needle. The ink dripping off the end. The sneer on the officer’s face.

“You should feel honoured,” he’d said in that crisp Anglisc. “These are not like your Zebra stripes.”

I’d growled at him. Shaken my head. Made menacing sounds behind the gag. He’d only laughed, touched the needle to my skin, and drawn the first line.

“This won’t come off,” he’d said cheerfully. “From this day forward, your life has changed.
You
have changed, Zebra.”

Another dip into the ink, a drip, a buzz, the burning scratch of the needle as it pricked my skin again and again and again. Over and over and over, too fast for my mind to comprehend.

“You are no longer Anglisc,” the officer had continued. “You are Outländer now. You serve the Füri.”

Remember you’re Lena Carr.

I shook the visceral memory from my mind, digging my fingernails into the barcode with relish. Pain lanced through my arm. Sounds sharpened. I blinked. The world came into clearer focus. Bodies lay strewn across the once pristine floor. The smell of chemicals burning and singed flesh wafted on the still air. Ragged pants and groans of pain sounded out all around us.

Cardinal Beck appeared, handing Trent a laser gun, soot marring his cheek, a burn mark across his chest; smouldering. No blood. I glanced down at my tattoo; there’d been no blood then, but I’d felt like I was bleeding. I’d felt like I was bleeding out.

A laser gun appeared before my eyes, Beck holding it. His gaze met mine; steady, neutral, constant.

“Well?” he asked. Trent watched on silently from the side. Cardinals moved around the hallway securing the enemy.

I’d somehow missed the fight.

I wouldn’t miss the next one.

Remember you’re Lena Carr.

My hand left the barcode tattoo on my arm and reached for the laser gun.

“Always ready, Cardinal,” I said.

He nodded his head. Shared a look of understanding with Trent, and then turned to his men, issuing orders.

“I love you,” Trent murmured, his words as thick as sweet nectar. “Fuck, I love you so much,” he added with a slow grin.

I shook my head, but I could feel the corners of my lips attempt a small smile. It was a little thing, but it meant a lot. It also scared me. I was so sure I would crack.

Remember who you are.

I sucked in steadying breath. Then another and another.

They might have marked me. Changed me in a purely physical manner.

But they had not stolen who I was.

Remember you’re Lena Carr.

Yes, Calvin. I’ll remember.

I sucked in a final fortifying breath of air and holstered the gun.

Trent nodded his head, seeing I was ready, and turned to Cardinal Beck.

“The Wiped?”

“God knows what they’ve been using them for, but I can’t see them keeping them in cells for the hell of it,” the Cardinal said in terse tones.

“Agreed.”

“He called me an Outländer,” I said, two sets of wide eyes landing on mine. “He said I served the Füri now. Have you heard of them?”

Cardinal Beck shook his head. Trent just scowled.

“Serving class. Stands to reason,” he said. “And if we’ve learned anything from our own history, those who warrant servants are most likely Elite.”

I let a disgruntled breath of air out.

Trent just smiled. “Baby, since when have you ever been a real Elite?”

I don’t think he could have said anything better.

“So where would their Elite be?” Cardinal Beck asked.

“Where all Elite tend to go,” I replied. They both stared at me. “Up.”

“Up?” they said in unison.

“The highest point in the city where they can laud it over those below.” Like the massively tall Quay Resort in Wánměi.

We might have been a nation that believed in equality of race, but we sure as hell hadn’t believed in an equal social order. We’d had castes, I doubted the Uripeans were any different. These Füries were the upper class. The Outländer the lowest. I’d been born Elite. I’d chosen to live amongst Citizens.

I knew exactly where we’d find them.

“We go up, then, “Trent said.

“Up,” Beck agreed.

“Lead on, Lena,” Trent added. “This is your fight now. But we’ll be right behind you.”

I looked around the hallway; more u-Pol would come soon. I would have liked time enough to hook into their Net, but we had to move out now or be trapped again. I walked to the closest u-Pol officer, crouched down, ignoring the wound that had killed him in his chest, and sifted through his pockets. Finding exactly what I needed, even if I couldn’t speak their language.

I pulled the vid-screen out and stood up. “We need Calvin,” I announced.

“Then we’ve got two things that are essential to success,” Beck offered.

“Find the Wiped,” Trent continued smoothly.

“And open the front gates,” the Cardinal finished for him.

At some stage these two had bonded. I would have smiled, if I didn’t think it an impossibility for me from this day onward.

The crack still threatened.

Remember you’re Lena Carr.

“We split up,” I ordered, shaking myself internally. “Cardinals to the gate. Trent and I to the Wiped.”

Neither man liked it, but aside from disgruntled looks and a stretched moment of silence, the order was accepted.

“We split up,” Trent growled.

“Agreed,” Beck ground back.

A huff of breath escaped me, dangerously close to a smile.

Remember who you are.

All right, Calvin. I’ve got this.

“Let’s move out,” I ordered, straightening my shoulders, stiffening my spine, lifting my chin. I may not have ever been a real Elite, but I sure as hell knew how to fake it. My father had made sure of that. He’d trained me to blend in, no matter where. Elite, Honourable, Citizen. It didn’t matter. I could make myself whatever I needed to be.

Today I needed to be strong.

We crept down the hallway in the prison block, the occasional unconscious or dead u-Pol officer slumped on the floor, the smell of laser-fire stinging our noses. Beck’s Cardinals had gone ahead and cleared the way; a well oiled machine designed to combat such situations. They moved in unison, their signals silent and precise. In moments we were out of the prison block and into the centre of the u-Pol structure itself.

Sirens sounded out, low and muted, but definitely there. The alarm had gone up, isolated from the prison block. Allowing their people to get out without us being aware. And also allowing their soldiers to set up a counter attack around the building proper.

“All exists are covered,” Cardinal Beck advised. “We take one step outside this place and we’ll be cut down.”

“What time is it?” I asked.

“Still dark,” Trent offered. “We’ve got about two hours of night left for cover.”

“That’s enough,” I murmured, moving toward the emergency stairs. A Cardinal stepped in front of me and checked the way was clear first. I wanted to smile. It
was
funny. Every single one of these big brutes had shifted into a protective overdrive.

But what I was about to do, I was born to do. The familiar calmed.

“We go up,” I announced.

“Shit,” Trent muttered.

“That’s a dead end,” Beck argued.

“That’s…” I said slowly, a mischievous glint in my eye, “a damn big sky.”

Beck looked at me as if I was mad. I reached out and patted his freak-suit placatingly, right over his shoulder, surreptitiously checking to make sure they hadn’t been forced to change clothes while I was at it. We blended in so well, even the u-Pol had not seen the need to correct our attire.

Cocky bastards just gave us an out.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Trent grumbled as we started climbing the stairs.

I didn’t answer, I was setting a fast pace. I could hear the rhythmic beat of the Cardinals’ boots on the steps behind me, the sound of their even breathing at my back, the echo of their freak-suits as the strange material chafed all around us.

Within minutes we’d made it to the top, my mind calculating the height of the building, frantically estimating if we’d have enough lift or not. A rush of air left me when I realised we’d not been underground at all, and the building was well within my normal safety parameters.

I’m not sure what I would have done had it not been. I’ve been forced to throw myself off lower than advisable roofs in the past. But I was experienced at base-jumping, I doubted these guys had ever used a wing-suit before now.

“They’ll be watching the exits and the first few floors,” I said as we came to the door leading to the rooftop. I stared the last barrier down, contemplating. “But this door will be alarmed,” I added, receiving several growls of agreement behind me. “So we won’t have much time once we’re out there.”

I turned to face all the men with me. Hard and stoic eyes met mine. I stood above them, on the highest tread, looking down on the men Tan had sent to help me. The men who had risked their own lives to follow me into Urip. Into Hammurg itself. I was about to ask them to do it again, risk their lives, and this time the stakes were high. Literally.

“What do we know about the layout of the city?” I asked Trent.

“From what we were able to see getting here, and our recollection of satellite images from Si, we’re pretty much slap bang in the middle. Their central police force’s main building.”

“Any idea of what’s around us?” I pressed.

I’d seen what they’d seen, but maybe they’d been more observant than me. At the time, I’d been utterly astonished. Hammurg had blossomed like a poisonous flower around us, flickers of dark alleys and bright lights flashing through the barred window of the van we’d travelled in. It had taken a good fifteen minutes from crossing the moat and entering the main gates of the city to reach the prison cells. Hammurg was large but the only vehicles on the road had been either u-Pol trucks or motorbikes.

“My men know the way back to the main gate,” Cardinal Beck offered. “We can trace our steps once we hit the ground.” He winced on those last words.

“Then you jump off the building in the direction you intend to run,” I advised. “We don’t have time to get lost on their narrow streets.”

“And us?” Trent asked.

My eyes met his, feeling something inside me settle. It only took a look, a small connection to even out my heart rate and make breathing that much easier. But it was priceless.

“We go in the opposite direction and hope we find the Füri and our Wiped.”

“Splitting up makes sense,” Beck agreed. “But we’ll also cause as much chaos as we can on our way to the gate, to draw attention away from you two. Perhaps if you manage to slip through without being spotted, you’ll have a better chance of surviving.” He could be brutally honest sometimes.

I didn’t mind. This was a life or death situation. And that was after we somersaulted off a sky-rise. We all needed to be reminded.

The urge to reach out and scratch the tattoo on my arm was excruciating. I bit my lip instead, tasting blood as my teeth broke flesh.

“OK,” Trent said. “Let’s do this.” He didn’t look at all happy about it. “Any last flight instructions, Lena?” he asked, and I could have sworn the Cardinals all leaned forward en masse.

I snorted. “Jump. Fall. Open your arms and then fly.”

“You’re a hoot, babe,” Trent said shaking his head. “A real laugh a minute.” He offered a wink, as if making sure I knew he was joking. As if scared I’d take the ribbing words to heart.

Was I so fragile to look at?

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the men.

“Body weight. Shift it.” I held my arms out, making the wings on my freak-suit snap out. Then rolled my body one way and then the other. “Like a plane.”

“We’ve never seen planes,” a Cardinal said quietly.

“You’ve seen fighter jets, haven’t you?” I demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Then think jet.”

“Can I hold my laser gun?”

“Enough!” Beck snapped. “You have your orders. We’ll split right as soon as we exit this door. Jump in groups of two. Three seconds between. Spread out, but aim for the gates. And stick with your partner until you get there.”

He turned back to Trent and me, gave us each a long look, and then offered a short, sharp nod of his head. Spinning around, his hand reached for the door.

“Ready?” Beck said, not looking back.

“Ready!” his men replied, the word echoing off the low ceiling.

My eyes met Trent’s. It wasn’t just the alarm of the door that worried me. It was what would be waiting on the roof. These people had fighter jets. Could they have helicopters too? A helipad. Armed guards protecting it.

I pulled my laser gun. Trent mimicked my move in a heartbeat. Every single Cardinal snapped theirs free with relish.

“Think fighter jet,” someone muttered to themselves.

The corner of Trent’s eyes crinkled.

I smiled.

This
is what I was good at. Acrobatic manoeuvres off skyscrapers into the night.

The door cranked open. An alarm blared up into the sky.

And then we were running…

Jumping…

And flying…

With laser gun lights firing from all sides.