Retribution (The Praegressus Project Book 5) Page 15

  Muscles working hard, Sam joined Ashley as she hovered above the roof of the hangar. His wings brushed hers as they turned in the air, seeking out the elusive tower. They found it several rooftops over, its sleek glass panels towering over the dull metal and concrete of the other buildings. Angling their wings, Ashley and Sam shot towards it.

  They were halfway there when the first siren began to screech. Sam lurched in the air as red lights flashed across the base. He cursed under his breath and drew his wings tight against his body. Diving towards the rooftop, he levelled out with barely a foot between himself and the hard steel. Ahead, Ashley was faster still, her white wings flashing in the darkness.

  Sam glanced around, expecting bullets to tear them to shreds at any moment. Instead, he caught the flash of gunfire around a distant watchtower. He frowned, staring as dark figures swarmed the tower. Screams echoed through the darkness. Suddenly the gunfire ceased.

  A few seconds later it started up again—only now it came from the machine gun mounted atop the tower. And it was directed at the neighbouring towers. Sam gaped as guards fell tumbling through the darkness.

  “Ashley, wait!” he called. His wings flattened out, bringing him to a mid-air stop.

  “Sam! What are you doing?” Ashley’s scream carried back to him. The crack of feathers on air announced her return. “What are you doing?” she repeated, her voice barely audible over the gunfire.

  Sam nodded at the shadows now swarming over the fence and into the compound. “Something’s happening,” he murmured. “I think it’s the Chead.”

  Chapter 28

  Susan squinted through the darkness, taking in the towering wire fences and looming shadows of the guard towers. There was no sign of powerlines they could destroy, or a powerplant they might sabotage. Arriving beneath the cover of darkness, they had seen little of the base, but it was clearly larger than any of the towns they had slaughtered.

  It did not matter. The humans would fall. At the first sign of trouble, they would turn tail and flee. It was their nature.

  Beside her, Hecate was silent. Since the encounter in the cave, he had not dared raise a word against her. After the boy had fled with Talisa’s daughter, Susan had taken Hecate right there on the floor, as he still lay recovering from the venom lacing his body. He had submitted meekly, bowing to her newfound power. A day later, he still showed the cuts and bruises Susan had left, to remind him of his place.

  The other Chead had fallen into line without quarrel. That Susan had killed Talisa did not matter—only that she had the power to command them. Now, Susan’s hundred warriors were aligned behind her, awaiting her command.

  From the moon’s position in the sky, Susan guessed they were passing midnight. Time was marching on. She dared not wait another day before launching their attack. So close to the base, her people would not remain undetected for long, and the element of surprise was their greatest weapon.

  She would let the Chead overwhelm the guards outside. Then they would keep any reinforcements preoccupied while she and Hecate tracked down humanity’s leader. Only he had the power to accomplish her plan, to unleash humanity’s greatest weapons on their own cities.

  A smile flickered across Susan’s face. In a matter of hours, humanity would be brought to its knees. She licked her lips, savouring the thought. Then she lifted a hand, and pointed at the closest guard tower.

  Silently, the Chead set off through the darkness.

  The first the guards knew of the impending horde came as the Chead leapt onto the chain-link fence. Standing ten feet tall, with the guard towering stretching up another fifteen feet, it was an imposing feature. The barbed wire curling along its top made the fence almost impossible for a human to scale. The Chead were over it in seconds. As the guards swung search lights towards the sounds, the first of Susan’s warriors were already nearing the top of the tower.

  Screams rent the night as the Chead swept over the tower rails and tore into the guards. A few gunshots followed, then silence. Searchlights from the neighbouring towers swept towards them, as somewhere in the base an alarm started to screech.

  Before the other guards could realise what was happening, the Chead at the top of the tower leapt onto the machine gun turret and swung it around. White flashes lit the night as they opened fire. A deadly barrage of bullets ripped through the nearest guard tower.

  Susan smiled, and with Hecate at her side, joined the stream of Chead scaling the fences. Those in the lead had already used their immense strength to tear the razor wire free, easing her passage. Ahead, the Chead were already spreading across the base. Screams drifted through the night, mingling with the roar of automatic gunfire. Unprepared, two towers had already fallen. The others were too far away to make a difference.

  Gunshots rang out from deeper inside the base as Susan reached the ground inside the compound. Crates and vehicles littered the yard near the fence, and ducking down, she raced into cover. Most of the Chead had already vanished into the junk yard. Silence fell as the humans lost track of their targets.

  Susan crept through the darkness, eyes wary for movement. The thump of running boots echoed through the night as human reinforcements arrived. Peering out from cover, Susan watched as two dozen soldiers began to edge through the wreckage. Rifles held at the ready, flashlights cutting the gloom, they moved as one, taking each corner with painstaking care. Helmets and heavy body armour covered them, but it would do little good against the power of the Chead.

  A howl rent the night.

  Amidst the wreckage, the soldiers spun, seeking out the source. The shadows came alive as their torches caught on the grey eyes watching them. Gunfire roared and flashes lit the yard.

  Screams followed, then silence.

  Susan grinned as the Chead slipped back into the shadows, leaving the dead soldiers in a bloody pile. Several of her people had fallen, but they were only the weak, those too sluggish to avoid the human’s bullets. The Chead would only grow stronger without them.

  She started to move from cover when a sharp crack came from overhead. Glancing up, Susan ducked as a shadow rushed at her. The rustle of feathers came as the winged figure turned in the air and came at her again. Rage built in Susan’s chest, and teeth bared she leapt to meet it.

  A fist swung at her face, but she deflected the blow with ease. Catching the creature by the wrist, she hurled it into the ground. A male’s voice cried out. Grinning, she leapt on his chest, eager to punish the boy who had stolen her prize.

  A dark face stared back at her. It was not the boy who had fled with Talisa’s daughter. A choked cry came from him as he tried to push her off. She brushed off his blows and leaned in.

  “Where is Elizabeth?” Susan growled.

  The boy’s mouth opened and closed. “Wh…who?”

  Susan broke off her questioning as a scream came from nearby. Looking around, she watched another winged shadow drop from the sky and land on one of her people. Before the Chead could react, the shadow snapped its neck and took off again. More winged figures appeared overhead, darting down at her people as they leapt for cover.

  A hiss whispered up from Susan’s throat as she turned back to the boy. His eyes widened as she lifted her fist. He tried to raise his arms to defend himself, but she tore out his throat all the same. Leaving him choking in his own blood, Susan rose and re-joined Hecate.

  “How many are there?” she whispered.

  The Chead had melted into the darkness, but the flutter of wings still came from overhead, circling. Hecate shook his head. Scanning the sky, Susan tried to count the flitting shadows, but it was impossible to keep track. There might be a dozen, or half a hundred. But she was sure the Chead still outnumbered them.

  With whispered instructions, she ordered her people to spread out and gather the human’s weapons. The Chead might not possess wings, but they could adapt. The winged abominations would fall soon enough. She just hoped Talisa’s daughter was not among them. Her life belonged to Susan.

&nbs
p; Finally, she turned back to Hecate. The Chead would keep the winged creatures busy, but she and her mate had another task. Another alarm sounded in the distance as she took his hand.

  “Let’s end this,” she breathed.

  Chapter 29

  The door on the rooftop gave way on Sam’s second kick. He stumbled inside, dragging Ashley with him, then slammed the remnants of the door back into place behind them. From outside came the blood-curdling howls of the Chead as they tore the soldiers to pieces.

  After the first guard tower had fallen, they’d hovered in place long enough to count the creatures swarming over the fence. The darkness made the task difficult, and Sam had given up counting at eighty. Together they’d watched the creatures sweep away a squadron of guards like ants before a flood. That was all they’d needed to see. Turning in the air, they raced for the tower. Whatever the Chead were here for, Sam and Ashley wanted nothing to do with it.

  Fortunately, the locked door on the tower’s roof had offered little resistance. Now, as they moved deeper into the stairwell, Sam wondered what fresh horrors waited for them. Outside, the Chead were tearing men to pieces, but somewhere in this building, the President lurked—or so they hoped. The man had commanded the devotion of both Doctor Halt and the Director. Who knew what fresh depravities they might find here.

  Red flashes of emergency lights lit their way as they moved down the concrete stairwell. Within minutes they found a fire door barring their way. They paused behind it and shared a glance. Sam caught the golden light in Ashley’s eyes and smiled. So close to their objective, the sight gave him strength, gave him hope they might just both get out of this alive. Eyes aglow, he’d seen Ashley do incredible, impossible things.

  Grabbing her hand, he pulled her into a kiss. He shivered as she kissed him back, all fire and passion, and for just a second he forgot where they were. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. A moan echoed up from his throat as she responded, her body melting into his, trembling beneath his hands.

  Then she was pulling away, turning towards the door, kicking it from its hinges, and they were charging together into the room beyond.

  Sam blinked and stumbled to a stop, his eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness of the fluorescent lights. Looking around, he squinted, struggling to comprehend the vast, elaborately decorated apartment they’d found themselves in. Soft red carpet covered the floor, spiralling out from the stone wall from which they’d emerged. Other than where they stood in its centre, the apartment had no walls, only dark windows looking out over the expanse of the airbase. The room took up the entire floor of the tower, with the wall behind them holding the elevator, stairwell and bathrooms.

  A smattering of furniture dotted the scarlet carpet, almost like an after-thought, except where the massive mahogany desk sat on the far side of the room. Its sleek wood gleamed in the overhead lights, dominating the room. A large man stood behind the desk, his shoulders square and arms clasped firmly in front of him. As they’d entered, Sam had caught a look of pure panic sweep across the man’s features. An instant later it vanished, replaced by a smooth, contemplating smile.

  Sam swallowed, unable to tear his eyes away from the President. He was almost as shocked to see the man as he obviously was to see them. Flicking his eyes around the room, Sam checked for guards, but the man appeared to be alone. A smile tugged at Sam’s lips as he gathered himself. They’d expected to spend half the night rummaging around dark rooms searching for the man, but it seemed they’d finally had a lucky break.

  “Ashley, Samuel, you’ve come at a rather inconvenient time.” Despite the smile, there was a slight quiver to the President’s voice.

  “I bet,” Ashley hissed, stepping towards him.

  Sam caught the flicker of movement a second before the creature leapt from the nearby sofa. Turning, he lifted his fists to defend himself, but Ashley was faster still. She spun on her heel, her boot flicking out to strike their assailant in the chest. The blow caught the girl mid-leap and sent her tumbling across the room.

  Growling, the girl scrambled to her feet. Silky auburn hair dangled across her face as hazel eyes locked on Sam and Ashley. Her face contorted into a snarl. Fists clenched, she faced them.

  And spread her wings.

  Sam stared as the golden feathers stretched out, seeming to fill the open space of the apartment. Teeth bared, the girl started towards them again. She moved across the room with confidence, suggesting she was already well-adjusted to the weight of her wings. It seemed the President had been busy with a few experiments of his own while the Director had been working away in the laboratory beneath Alcatraz.

  Beside him, Ashley clenched her fists and moved to meet the girl.

  “Pascaline, that’s enough,” the President’s voice brought both girls up short.

  Sam shivered as he glanced at the President. The man had taken his seat and was now leaning back in his chair watching them. For a man they supposedly had cornered, he looked awfully calm.

  “I can take care of them, sir,” the girl’s voice rang with anger. “Then I’ll take care of whichever of your guards let them get inside.”

  “I think the Chead have already taken care of them, my dear Pascaline,” the President laughed. His eyes turned on Ashley. “And I’m not altogether sure anyone could beat Ashley here—at least, not when she’s worked up like this.”

  Growling, Ashley took a step towards the President. Alarm tingled in Sam’s stomach. He quickly stepped forward and caught her by the wrist. Something wasn’t right.

  “Smart lad, Samuel,” the President grinned.

  The President’s words lit a fire in Sam’s chest. Images of his own time in captivity flickered through his mind, of Ashley chained to her hospital bed, helpless, in agony. Ignoring his own words, he started forward. This time the girl made no move to stop him, but the President leaned forwards and placed his hand over something on his desk.

  “San Francisco. Houston. Vancouver. Los Angeles.” He boomed, his voice echoing off the windows. Outside red lights still flashed across the base. “Mexico City. London. Buenos Aires. Tokyo.”

  Sam started to slow. Closer to the mahogany desk now, he could see a steel panel inlaid on the surface beneath the President’s hand. Between his fingers was a silver key.

  “What are you saying?” Ashley demanded, joining Sam. Across the room, the girl retreated to the President’s side and sat herself on the mahogany desk. It was so big she could spread her wings, and they still wouldn’t touch the President.

  “You hold a billion lives in your hands, my girl,” the President replied with a smile.

  Ice trickled through Sam’s veins. “That’s not possible, there are safeguards—”

  “You think I’d leave anything to chance?” The President broke off into laughter. “This is the only safeguard. This key here—and the one my dear, faithful Pascaline is now holding. Two keys, two turns, and the world burns.”

  Sam’s eyes flickered to where the winged girl sat. Beside her on the desk, another steel panel reflected the glow of the overhead lights. Taking a key from her pocket, she inserted it into place, then flicked him a wicked grin.

  His heart sank as he realised the President had been bluffing. They’d had half a chance—just a moment where they could have reached him. But that opportunity had just slammed closed in their faces. The man might still be lying, but from the dark glint in his eyes, Sam didn’t think so.

  Swallowing, Sam shook his head. “You wouldn’t kill all those people, your people…”

  “The people who threw me away like yesterday’s trash?” The President sneered. “Let them burn.”

  “Please, Pascaline, that’s your name, right?” Beside him, Ashley turned to face the golden-feathered girl. She took a tentative step closer, until a warning growl from the girl brought her up short. “Please, Pascaline, you don’t have to do this. Just pick up the key and walk away.”

  Glancing at the girl, Sam realised for the first t
ime she wasn’t wearing a collar. Hope surged in his chest as he added his voice to Ashley’s. “He hasn’t got anything over you, Pascaline. We can help you, protect you from him. All you have to do is walk away.”

  Pascaline’s looked slowly from Ashley to Sam, then back again. A smile spread across her tanned face. Throwing back her head, she howled with laughter. “You can help me?” she gasped finally. Reaching up, she wiped tears from her eyes. “How, exactly, could a couple of failed experiments like you possibly help me?”

  Feathers bristling, Ashley spread her wings. “Do we look like failures to you?”

  The girl raised an eyebrow. “You look broken.” Levering herself off the desk, she faced them. “Like a thin breeze would push you over. You wouldn’t even stand a chance against the Chead! Good thing you’re not out there, with my brothers and sisters, or they’d tear you to pieces.”

  Sam risked a glance out the window. Beyond, darkness hung over the base, lit only by the whirling red of the alarm and distant flashes of gunfire. Shadows rushed between the ground and sky. Sam squinted and took a step closer to the window. He shivered as the silent battle resolved in his vision. Chead rushed across the ground, wielding rifles taken from the fallen guards, while overhead winged warriors darted at down them.

  Swallowing, Sam turned back to the President. “How many more of us did you create?” he whispered. “How many more did you kill?” Fists clenched, he started towards the man, but Ashley grasped him by the shoulder and pulled him back.

  Behind his desk, the President waved a hand. “As you can see, my methods inspire a great deal more loyalty than those employed by my Director or the good Doctor Halt. I always did find honey more effective than the stick.” He rose from his chair. “Of course, the stick is necessary at times, with uncooperative subjects such as yourselves.”