Renegades (The Praegressus Project Book 2) Read online

  He clenched his fists, bracing himself for a fight. He could guess now where these Chead had come from. They had to have been prisoners of the facility. They must have escaped at the same time as Chris and the others. But that still did not explain their appearance in the woods.

  The smile fell from the Chead’s lips at Chris’s words. The grey eyes stared back at him, unreadable.

  Then the Chead shrugged. “A debt…. was owed,” the creature shifted, licking its lips, “You spared… Hecate’s life. You suffered… for me.”

  Its grey eyes flickered towards Liz as it spoke, and Chris saw again the scene in the padded room, saw Liz writhing in agony, the shock collar flashing around her neck. He shuddered and his hand drifted unconsciously to his throat. But the steel chains were long gone, and angrily he pushed the memory away.

  “Your name is Hecate?” he asked, the angry words dying in his throat.

  The Chead smiled, a dull laughter rattling in its throat. “You thought... we would call each other… Chead?”

  The whisper of laughter came from the other Chead, reminding Chris of their presence. A shiver ran through him at the inhuman quality to the laughter. Though they looked like ordinary teenagers, there was no doubting the absence of humanity in their grey stares.

  He turned his eyes back to the first Chead. “Thank you, Hecate,” he paused, unsure how to continue. “How are you here? How did you escape the facility?”

  “The woman… released us,” its eyes flashed, the grin turning feral, “The fun we had… before we left.”

  Chris blanked. Finally, they knew how Angela Fallow had distracted the guards long enough to free them. She had unleashed the captive Chead on the facility. He shuddered at the slaughter they would have left behind them, and wondered how anyone had survived to come after them. But then, a well-placed bullet would still stop a Chead in its tracks, and in the long corridors of the facility, the guards would have eventually overwhelmed the creatures.

  “How did you find us?” Liz asked.

  “After… our brothers and sisters… began to fall, we left.” The Chead eyed them with a grin. “You fly slow… sleep too much. And your stench… was not hard to track.”

  Chris wrinkled his nose, trying to ignore the cloying sweetness the Chead carried with them. It filled the room, overpowering, though he had never heard it mentioned in the news reports about the Chead. He guessed an enhanced sense of smell was yet another alteration he could chalk up to Halt and Fallow’s meddling.

  But sense of smell aside, he knew there had to be more to Chead’s actions than Hecate was letting on. Folding his arms, he shook his head. “You did not follow us all this way, save us from those soldiers, just to say thank you.”

  The Chead smiled again. “You are… correct,” its teeth flashed as its grin widened, “We came to see… if you would join us.”

  “Join you in what?” Liz asked softly.

  Hecate turned to look at her. “In the war… to come.”

  Chris blinked. “The war to come?”

  “For all our existence… we have suffered,” the Chead’s eyes flashed. “Beaten. Tortured. Murdered. We were born into captivity... destined to die there. But now we are free… and we will make our tormentors pay.”

  “You want to fight the government?” Liz breathed.

  “The government?” the Chead’s head bent to the side, “It is humanity… that made us suffer… It is humanity… that must pay with its blood.”

  Chris blinked, and behind them Richard snorted. “All of humanity?” Richard asked, his voice rich with sarcasm. He stepped up beside them, suddenly bold. “There’s eight of you. The government has thousands of soldiers. And there are millions of people in the Western Allied States.”

  The Chead shifted, turning to face the taller boy. “Their soldiers are nothing,” it growled. “The Chead are legion.”

  Though Chris could make no sense of Hecate’s words, he felt himself grow cold. Ice trickled down his back as he looked at the unyielding figure of the Chead, imagining an army of such creatures. Then he shook his head and dismissed the image. The facility could not have contained an army. Hecate was clearly deranged, driven mad by the long years of imprisonment.

  Beside him, Richard laughed. Before any of them could react, Hecate sprang forward and caught him by the shirt. Growling, the Chead hauled Richard into the air. Richard swore as his feet left the ground, and then lashed out with a fist. The blow caught the Chead square in the face and sent it staggering backwards.

  Richard stumbled as Hecate released him, his wings flaring out to steady him.

  “Some legion,” Richard spat. He looked around the room, defiant, a wild anger in his eyes. “Maybe you’re not a match for us, after all.”

  Hecate straightened, but made no move towards Richard. Instead, it turned back to Chris. “Consider my offer,” the Chead grated out the words, “are you with us… or with them?”

  Closing his eyes, Chris shook his head. Pity swelled inside him, a sadness for the hate and torment that had shaped these creatures. Despite their brutality, despite the slaughter and destruction that followed their awakening, he sensed a depth to the Chead. There was more to them than the feral creatures he had seen on the television.

  They were more human than anyone realised.

  Yet Hecate and these others, born within the cold walls of the facility, had never been given the chance to discover that humanity. The vile cruelty of Doctor Halt had shaped them, moulded them with hate and fear, allowing nothing else to grow.

  “I’m sorry, Hecate,” he addressed the Chead, “we cannot help you. Doctor Halt and the ones who supported him are our enemy. Not humanity. After all, we are human ourselves.”

  Now it was the Chead’s turn to laugh. “So you think… but will they?”

  13

  Liz let out a long breath as the last Chead slipped through the doorway. Heart still pounding, she moved to the window and watched as eight shadows slid from the house into the surrounding trees. For a long time she stood watching the woods, waiting to see if they would return. But the only movement came from the wiry branches swaying in the morning breeze, and finally she turned back to the others.

  Richard and Jasmine still stood in the centre of the room, their faces pale. The girl clung to Jasmine’s leg, the occasional tremor of her wings belaying her fear. As Liz moved away from the window, Chris stepped back in from the hallway and looked at her.

  “They’re gone?”

  She nodded, and he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. Holding him tight, Liz struggled to relax, to cast aside her fear. But now, with the heat of the moment gone, it clung to her, spreading until her whole body was trembling. Her breath rattled in her chest as she closed her eyes, and saw again the boy’s grey eyes staring down at her.

  After a few moments, the terror began to pass, and she loosened her grip on Chris. Their eyes met as they parted, and she nodded at Chris’s unspoken question.

  “I’m okay,” she looked at the others. “What about you, Richard, Jasmine?”

  “I’m fine,” Richard shook his head, “they’re not so terrifying is person.”

  Taking a breath, Jasmine stepped away from him, taking the girl with her. A hurt look spread across Richard’s face and his shoulders slumped, but Liz ignored him. Jasmine would get over what had happened in the forest eventually. They all would.

  Beside her, Chris chuckled softly. “They’re terrifying enough for me,” shaking his head, his eyes settled on the young girl still clutching at Jasmine’s trousers. He crossed the room and knelt beside her. “Hey there.”

  The girl whimpered and shrank back as Chris offered his hand. Her wings rose to hide her face, the grey feathers shivering with her fear. Chris let out a long sigh and looked up at them, eyebrows raised.

  “Any ideas?” he asked. “This is getting a little ridiculous.”

  Liz rolled her eyes and shook her head in amusement. She looked across at Jasmine. “How about you bo
ys go out back and pick some fruit. Give us girls some time to talk.”

  Richard and Chris shared an awkward look, before doing what she said. Liz watched them go, and then turned to face Jasmine. Jasmine stared straight back at her, her eyes hard and arms folded defensively.

  Letting out a long sigh, Liz attempted a smile. Ignoring Jasmine’s frosty glare, she strode across and lowered herself to the wooden floor. Crossing her legs, she nodded to Jasmine, indicating she should do the same. The taller girl hesitated, then with a snort she joined Liz on the ground. Sitting cross-legged, she watched with bemusement as the younger girl crawled into her lap and hid her face beneath her wings again.

  Liz smiled, and even the corner of Jasmine’s lips tugged upwards. Scooting forward on her bottom, Liz reached out a hand and rested it gently on the girl’s wings. A shudder went through them, her terror obvious. Silently, Liz began to stroke the girl’s feathers, waiting for the trembling to stop.

  When the girl finally seemed to have calmed, Liz spoke in her friendliest voice. “Hello again,” she paused, struggling to find the words she needed. “I thought it was about time us girls had some alone time. Richard and Chris have gone to find us some breakfast, and those creatures aren’t coming back. You’re safe, you can talk to us.”

  Somewhat to her surprise, the girl’s wings retracted, revealing her pale, tear-streaked face. She blinked up at Liz, then turned to look around the room. Liz withdrew her hand and sat up straight, waiting to see what the girl would do. The mismatched blue and green eyes swept the room once, then again, before she was apparently satisfied they were alone. With a quick burst of movement, she scrambled from Jasmine’s lap and sat beside them, crossing her legs in a mimic of the older girls.

  Jasmine and Liz shared a glance, before turning back to the girl.

  “My name is Liz, and this is Jasmine,” Liz spoke again, then, “You can speak?”

  The girl nodded silently, her eyes flicking between the two of them.

  “Can you tell us your name?” Jasmine asked now, leaning in, a friendly smile on her lips.

  The girl swallowed, looked around the room again, then nodded. “My name is… Mira,” she whispered.

  Grinning at her success, Liz carefully held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mira.”

  Mira stared at her hand, her eyes wide, as though unsure what to do with it. After a minute Liz gave up and retrieved her hand. Ignoring the awkward moment, she pressed on. “Where do you come from, Mira?”

  The girl blinked. “Come… from?” she looked from Liz to Jasmine, “I don’t know…”

  Mira’s lips quivered and tears gathered in her eyes. Jasmine let out an impatient sigh. Seeing her frustration, Liz spoke quickly, before the other girl drove Mira back into her shell.

  “It’s okay, Mira. Maybe we can help you,” she moved forward and put an arm around the young girl.

  The girl shuddered, and with a violent shove pushed Liz away from her. Liz gasped at the girl’s strength. She fell backwards onto the wooden floor as the girl leapt to her feet, her eyes flashing with grief and anger.

  “It’s not okay!” Mira screeched, the words tumbling from her now, “He’s gone! They took me away and now he’s gone and there’s no one left to look after him!”

  Jasmine and Liz stared up at the girl. Her wings had spread with the angry words, and her shoulders shook with every harsh intake of breath. Slowly, Liz drew herself to her feet. Jasmine rose to stand beside her. She glimpsed movement in the hallway, but raised her hand, signalling for the boys to stay out of it.

  “Mira,” she said softly. “Who’s gone? Who took you away?”

  “Artemis,” Mira’s voice trembled. “Artemis is gone. That man in the white coat took me away from him. He left Artemis there to die!”

  “What man?” Jasmine asked.

  “Who is Artemis?” Liz questioned at the same time.

  “The man you call Halt,” Mira answered Jasmine’s question. A shudder went through Mira as she spoke the name, and her feathers stood on end.

  “And Artemis?” Liz repeated.

  “Artemis… he’s… he’s my father.”

  14

  “Your father? Why would your father look like a Chead?” Liz muttered, half to herself. How could the girl mistaken the Chead, Hecate, for her father?

  But her words had driven Mira back inside her shell. Silently cursing herself, Liz stepped towards her, but now Mira retreated across the room. Reaching the corner, she crumped to the ground and curled into a ball on the wooden floor. Harsh sobs tore from her throat as the grey wings rose to cover her again.

  To Liz’s surprise, Jasmine moved across and crouched beside Mira. Wrapping the girl in her arms, Jasmine glared up at Liz. “Well done,” she hissed. “And I thought I was the blunt one.”

  Guilt welled in Liz’s chest but as she stepped towards them, a low growl came from the girl. Liz froze, her heart inexplicably beginning to race. She took a quick step back again. She had felt the girl’s potency just a moment earlier, and despite her own strength, one look at the girl’s mismatched eyes was enough for her to back away.

  Movement came from the hallway, and the boys stepped quietly into the room. They had found an old potato sack somewhere and filled it with fruit from the trees behind the house. Her stomach growled at the sight.

  “You did well,” Chris said softly as he joined them, offering her an apple. He grinned. “Well, better than me anyway.”

  Liz took the apple with a smile and pulled him to her. Her fear fell away as his arms went around her, and for a second she closed her eyes, letting the worries of the world recede. But even in Chris’s strong embrace, she could not quite banish her dread.

  She knew it was not just the girl, but everything that had happened since their escape. The soldiers, the helicopter, the Chead. It felt as though things were spinning out of control, like they were racing towards some awful fate, over which they had no control.

  When they finally separated, Liz kissed Chris lightly on the cheek before facing the room. Mira seemed to have recovered somewhat, but her lips remained tightly shut, and no amount of prodding would get her talking again.

  Moving to the window, Liz looked out through the dust streaked glass. Her stomach clenched as she realised that with the boys back inside, there was no one keeping watch. She cursed under her breath as she stared out the window, her heart suddenly racing.

  Outside, the cluster of buildings remained unchanged, untouched by movement. The midday sun beat down across the iron roofs, harsh and unforgiving despite the cold winds blowing down from the mountains. The relentless heat was a grim reality of life on the prairies. Her parents and their farmhands had worked the early mornings and late evenings to avoid the scorching sun, taking siesta through from midday and into the afternoon. But even with those precautions, heatstroke and dehydration was common.

  Liz stood for a long time at the window, her eyes searching the shadows. Her stomach twisted with unease, refusing to be quelled by the silence outside. It swirled and shrank, and a wave of nausea rose in her throat. Prickles of fear spread down her spine as she finally turned back to the others

  “I think we should get out of here,” she announced, surprising even herself.

  The others stared back. Richard frowned and Jasmine snorted. Even Mira took a moment to look up. Only Chris seemed to take her seriously.

  “What?” he asked.

  Crossing the room, Liz looked around the little group, her urgency growing. “I think we should get out of here, right now.”

  Jasmine pulled herself to her feet, one hand still resting in Mira’s grey hair. “It’s got to be a hundred and forty outside,” she argued. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to keep my skin intact.”

  “What’s wrong, Liz?” Chris ignored the others, his eyes fixed on hers.

  Liz shook her head. “I’m not sure. It just doesn’t feel right, staying here. Not after the Chead…”

  “They were pret
ty quick to take off, Liz,” Richard replied. “I don’t think they’re coming back.”

  “I know,” Liz murmured. She bit her lip. “But I still don’t like it. If they could find us so easily, how long before the soldiers do the same. And what if the Chead were followed here?”

  As she spoke the words, the sense of urgency exploded in her chest, like sparks catching in leaf litter. In her mind, she saw soldiers creeping through the forests around the house, rifles held at the ready. Suppressing a shriek, she reached out and grabbed Chris by the wrist.

  “They could have led Halt’s people right to us,” she said.

  Chris stared back, his hazel eyes dark in the shadows of the room. Then he was nodding, spinning to face the others, the words tumbling from his mouth. “Liz is right,” he said, already moving. “If they’re tracking the Chead, Hecate might have led them right to our doorstep.”

  Sweeping up the heavy jacket he had claimed as his own, Chris looked around the room. Liz’s sense of urgency was spreading now, as the others realised the truth of her words. Richard moved into the kitchen and collected the potato sack of fruit, while Jasmine swept up the bundle of jackets they had piled in the corner. She tossed one to Richard as he emerged from the kitchen, before offering one to Liz.

  Then they were moving towards the doorway. Richard took the lead, the potato sack slung over one shoulder and jacket bundled under one arm. Jasmine came after him, leading Mira by the hand, while Liz and Chris took the rear.

  Liz paused in the doorway, turning to cast a final glance back over the living room. She swallowed as grief rose in her throat. Even empty, without furniture or family, this was still her home. Her two years on the run had not changed that. This was where she had taken her first steps, where her father had taught her to tie a lasso. It was where she had been loved, where she had been safe. It was the last connection to her past, to her mother and father and friends.

  She turned away as tears blurred her vision. Something tore inside her as she moved down the corridor after the others, as though something precious and fragile had shattered. She held her breath, struggling to hold back the tears, and rushed out the front door into the courtyard.