The Reprisal Page 19

  Romy’s chest heaved as she took in great gulps of air. She stared at the thin scars all over Houston’s torso.

  “That is madness,” Houston said, dropping his shirt.

  “You’re hurting people, Houston,” she said softly. “If you don’t want to become your father, then stop what you’re doing and let us help you. This doesn’t have to be hard.”

  The doctor leaned in close, and she smelled his rancid breath. “You were right before, skyling. Time is running out. The noose is tightening, but I still have enough time to make sure those who oppose me die. I didn’t want this, you know. If Atlas had stayed out of my way, I would have welcomed the Amach with open arms after winning the war.” He looked into her eyes. “But I can’t stop now. Not when I can end it all—the suffering, the inequality, the insanity.”

  “People won’t remember the things you did after winning,” she replied. “They’ll remember how you won the war in the first place: how you welcomed alien invaders in, tested on innocent space soldiers, killed any in your path. How you turned on your friends.”

  Houston turned away. “So be it. The people of Earth don’t have to agree now. They’ll see my point of view in time, and they’ll thank me.” He nodded at the guards. “Take her.”

  The guards grabbed Romy and pushed her through the rows of dead, frozen soldiers to the back of the long room. Houston swung a door open ahead of them to reveal ex-Amach techie, Tyson, furiously typing on a keyboard.

  “The coordinates are locked in,” the techie said. “Just awaiting your thumbprint and the satellites will shift into place.”

  She’d been right not to shoot Houston in the passage. Tyson was ex-Amach. He’d been the one to rewire the cannons from the Mandate and give Houston control. He had to be contained as well. Tyson noticed Romy and she smiled at him, forming her hands into a gun and shooting him. He paled and turned back to the screen.

  “Ingenious, isn’t it?” Houston said to her. “Locating the Mandate’s cannons when we seized control of them was simple. They’d been bluffing, did you know?” Houston said. “They could only reach a small fraction of the world from Everest. When we seized control of them, I thought, why limit myself like that? Space was empty, meaning the technology couldn’t be stolen. Why not put them there?” He flashed a grin at her. “Brilliant, wasn’t it?”

  She would have never guessed their location. “Very clever, James,” she said sweetly. Houston was setting up the scene for his show. He had the cannons, and he had Elara out there. He had his audience.

  Romy’s mouth dried as she finally understood what Atlas planned to do.

  One of the soldiers stepped forward. “Sir, the Amach air force have pulled back, as you expected.”

  Houston didn’t miss Romy’s jerk. “Oh, so you do know I had Elara tied right above the hangar area they’ve been bombing for the last hour? It is the weakest part of an Amach’s structure. Something Atlas is well aware of, but my sacrificial lamb, Elara, appears to have done the trick.”

  Without ceremony, he turned back to Tyson and swiped his thumb over a small scanner. The screen blinked green.

  “Twenty-four minutes until the cannons are within range, sir. The optimum window is open for five minutes; after that, accuracy will be affected,” Tyson said.

  The doctor tapped his mouth. “I’m thinking a few people are going to turn up to save Elara, am I right?”

  Romy kept her face smooth. Atlas had been right about him, about his need to display his genius. If Romy was correct, Atlas was banking on one tiny thing to win.

  “Where is Tina, Rosemary?” he asked her. A boyish grin split his face. “No, don’t tell me. It’s more fun if you don’t. But I’m hoping Atlas turns up. I’d like to keep Tina. It would be nice to have Deimos in the mix, too, and Gwenyth. But I won’t get my hopes up.”

  “It won’t work,” Romy answered vaguely. She wanted to suggest that the final show wouldn’t be quite right unless everyone was in the right place, but she didn’t dare raise his suspicions.

  Houston’s face clouded. “No?” he asked. “I hope you’re wrong. However, just in case, I’ve set a cannon on the Irish Amach, and on the area around this base, where, if you wanted to know, a large force is creeping up on us. All of your little space buddies, as I said before. They’re coming up the southern end. But there are ten thousand of the Amach and Mandate forces around us, at least.”

  Atlas was giving Houston everything he wanted, forcing the doctor to bring all of his pieces into action on the Amach’s terms. Because Atlas knew one thing about the person who was once his best friend.

  He knew Houston would want front-row seats to the anarchy his cannons and traps caused.

  Atlas was luring him into the open.

  Romy struggled to remain impassive to Houston’s gloating. Tyson passed a remote to him and her eyes tracked it.

  “You recognise this?” Houston held up the black remote. Two months ago, she’d shot off Mandate Tony’s finger to stop him from pushing it. He came closer. “Do you recognise it?”

  Romy looked into his wide eyes. “I recognise the look of madness. I’ve seen it in the mirror enough times to never mistake it. You are mad, James, but you can still do the right thing. Tell the Amach what you plan, and they’ll leave peacefully. Negotiate a truce. You need time to go into the cultivation tanks. If you have me as a hostage, you can demand that from Atlas. You know you can. I will willingly stay if you let Elara go.”

  His eyes sharpened. “I don’t have a permanent cure yet.”

  “You’ll have years on the other side to figure it out. And if not, you’ll just keep going back into the cultivation tanks. This is your chance to take care of yourself and do the right thing.”

  His eyes lost focus. “No,” Houston said, backing away. “No, no, no! That’s not how today is happening. It’s all set out.”

  He pushed in close, his breath hitting her cheeks. “I told you I have a plan. I have time to get in the tank. Be as I was. I won’t be like him. Soon the others will be gone. I’ll be able to work.” He whirled, hand over his mouth. “My mind, it wants to always be formulating, planning, researching, discovering. But I did it for the people. Because they needed someone who could see what had to be done. I did it, but once I take everyone else out, it will just be me again, my mind, my research.”

  She let out a slow breath. “James,” Romy said very softly. “You’ll never be you again. Not the person who had friends and people who loved him. That person is long gone. That’s what you’re feeling. Using the cannons won’t fix that. Atlas was your friend once. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  Houston rushed her, backhanding Romy across the face. “They are here on my doorstep with their armies. I’m not the one at fault!”

  Blood pounded to her face, and Romy laughed. “You know how I know you spend your time in a lab, James? You hit like a bitch.”

  She was still laughing when he grabbed a handgun off the soldier next to her and brought the butt of the weapon down against her temple.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  She groaned, shifting onto her back.

  “Sir, she’s awake.”

  “Gotta love those nanos.” Houston cackled.

  Romy was dragged upright with a suddenness that nearly made her vomit.

  Taking several deep breaths, she cracked her eyes open.

  They stood on top of a small hill; around twenty soldiers, Houston, and Tyson. Romy peered down to the ground and her heart stopped. One hundred metres out from their position and down the bottom of the hill, Elara lay tied in the middle of a gigantic crater in the ground. She was struggling to get free.

  They were finally out in the open, which meant Atlas would have eyes on them, but how could he move when Elara was trussed up below, and Romy was right next to the man he wanted to gun down?

  “There are eight cannons,” Houston said to her. “They have a fifty-metre radius and will incinerate anything in that distance. I have one on Elara, t
wo trained on Ireland, and five on the bush surrounding this base, where they are creeping up on me. Not on the area with my space soldiers, of course. How many of my enemy do you think I can kill at once?”

  “Three minutes until the first cannon comes into view. The first press will target the girl,” Tyson said.

  Elara was going to die. She had to get more than fifty metres away. Tina had to be there, somewhere in the treeline, waiting for the Amach to reach her and help.

  “Two minutes,” Tyson called.

  “There doesn’t look to be much of a turnout,” she observed. The comment was a risk.

  Houston laughed. “Oh, don’t you worry, skyling. They’re there. Hiding in the trees. Not for much longer.”

  Her knotmate was about to die. Panic worked its way up her throat.

  Romy wasn’t restrained. They thought there were enough of them to keep her docile. That was their mistake.

  She rushed the nearest soldier and punched him in the liver. Seizing his gun, she shot him in the head, hearing Houston scream in fury behind her. She reached for the guard’s walkie and hoped harder than she’d hoped in her life. “They have the cannons set on Ellie and the surrounding trees. Get fifty metres away. One minute—”

  She cried out at a savage kick in her lower back.

  Coming to her feet, she trained her gun on Houston. “Drop the remote,” she said.

  “No, I don’t think so, Rosemary.”

  A searing bolt of electricity hit her in the back and her body shook against her will as the current burned through her. She fell to the ground, immobile, and felt someone kick the gun away.

  She could see down the hill. Could see Tina sprinting into the middle of the crater. A tear fell from the corner of her eye. Tina got the message.

  “Oh, look. It’s Tina,” said Houston as though from a great distance. “Do you think she’ll make it in time?”

  Romy’s body shuddered with aftershocks, and she blinked slowly.

  Tina dropped by Elara’s side and swept a knife through her restraints. She jerked her up, her shouts a wordless mess from up here.

  “Twenty seconds,” Tyson said in a voice tight with excitement. “Sir, victory is nearly yours.”

  “And you will be my right-hand man, Tyson,” Houston replied.

  Tyson’s eyes gleamed.

  Tina was shoving Elara, all but dragging her from the centre of the crater. Romy’s toes and fingers twitched, but she couldn’t move her eyes from what was happening below.

  They were going to make it. They were halfway.

  But something was wrong with Elara; she wasn’t running straight. She was injured.

  Elara tripped and Romy screamed wordlessly down to her knotmate, tears leaking from her eyes as she lay immobile.

  Tina doubled back and picked up Elara. The woman thrust her away with all her strength.

  “Boom,” Houston said.

  Romy jerked as a huge column of blue hit Earth with a sound so overwhelming, Romy rolled on the ground in agony.

  The effect of the Taser began to wear off as she lay panting in the wake of the cannon blast. Her legs unlocked and, shaking, she got to her knees.

  Romy glanced down the hill, and the air whooshed out of her chest. She couldn’t see a thing through the smoking mess down below! Where was her knotmate? Romy screamed.

  Where were they? Where was Elara? Where was Tina?

  Someone dug sharp fingers into her upper traps and she lost it. She spun, kicking out a leg in a circle and the soldier lost their grip, falling with a thump onto the patchy grass. Romy scanned the area. The cannon blast had forced most of the other soldiers to the ground.

  Beyond them was the most amazing sight she’d ever seen.

  Amach soldiers running up the hill.

  Those enemy soldiers still standing charged at the Amach lines, shooting. Soon, the Renegades who’d fallen over were rising to their feet and joining them.

  Romy had to do something.

  Colt.

  She dove for the gun. A groan sounded directly behind her and Romy whirled in time to see a Renegade dropping to the ground, clutching his stomach. She looked back and almost burst into tears at the sight of Atlas fifty metres away, gun still pointing at the fallen man who’d snuck up on her.

  He started toward her, but dove to the ground when the enemy soldiers before her opened fire at the line of Amach soldiers, a desperate attempt to hold them back. Already, Romy knew the enemy soldiers would lose, and she couldn’t be in their midst when that happened. They’d threaten her to control Atlas.

  She quickly glanced around in a crouch.

  There was a roar of shouts and screams from down the other side of the hill where Elara and Tina had been, but she couldn’t think about that now.

  Romy kept low, firing on a soldier who ran toward her. That was when she noticed Houston was missing. She turned in a full circle, spotting people pouring out of the trees below.

  Where are you, you bastard?

  There! Running down the other side of the hill. She glanced back at Atlas and saw the Amach were advancing, steadily pushing forward against the Renegades. But by the time they got here, Houston would be gone.

  Tilting her head to the right, Romy shot a solider in the face and took off after Houston and Tyson, running faster than she ever had. Her lungs burned, her calf muscles ached, but steadily, she gained on the small group ahead through the trees.

  Three soldiers accompanied them. Romy waited until the branches cleared and shot once, twice, three times.

  Houston dove behind a thick tree trunk. Tyson wasn’t smart enough. He screamed, grabbing his side as her bullet caught him.

  Sprinting, she reached the tree where Houston hid. Rounded it.

  And fired.

  He blinked in shock, and she did too . . . as the chamber clicked empty.

  He grinned and pushed the remote button again. She jerked, eyes going to the sky as it filled with blue. Mass screams echoed to her from afar.

  The air whooshed out of Romy’s lungs as Houston tackled her to the ground. The remote skittered away behind a tree. She gasped to breathe, raising her arms to protect her face as Houston knelt on top of her chest. One of his fists got through her guard and pain exploded in her jaw.

  His body weight was gone in the next instant, and she rolled, head spinning. Houston was on his feet, staring to where one of the dead soldiers lay close by, a gun resting by their side.

  A sharp pain dug into the side of Romy’s calf, clearing her head and spurring her into action. She got to her knees, black edging her vision from his blow. Houston ran for the gun and she dove, just catching his feet.

  Grunting with the effort, ignoring her blurred vision, Romy slowly climbed up over his body. Houston was reaching for the gun, his finger scraping the edges of the weapon.

  Romy focused on him. She felt inside her boot, the source of the sharp pain, and drew out the syringe.

  His eyes caught on the shining point and he renewed his struggles, screaming.

  She dragged in an inhale, and pinned him with her knees over his shoulders. Romy lifted her hands, drawing back on the syringe handle to fill the large canister with air. She watched Houston’s eyes widen on the glinting needle.

  He bucked. “This isn’t how it ends. You’ll see.”

  She blinked back the white spots filling her vision. Smiling unsteadily, Romy held his hazel eyes and jabbed the syringe into the throbbing pulse in his throat.

  “It’s over, James.”

  She pushed down on the end, slowly emptying air into a leaping artery.

  The effect was almost immediate.

  His eyes rolled back and his grip loosened, his hands sliding off of her arms as he lost the strength to fight back. His head lolled to the side. Romy didn’t move, watching his feathering pulse, the screaming and shots around her blurring into an indiscriminate wall of sound.

  The pulse in his neck grew weaker, and Romy, swaying on top of him, grew stronger.

/>   Crawling, she retrieved the gun Houston had failed to reach in time, and dragged herself back to him. She fumbled for his pulse and could only feel a faint stirring as the embolism blocked the blood flow to his brain.

  It was how his father had died.

  Her vision filled with white and Romy wasn’t as successful in blinking it back this time.

  She stared with unfocused eyes at the man who had caused so much needless pain.

  You can never be too sure.

  Clicking off the safety on the gun she’d picked up, Romy pressed the butt against Houston’s chest and fired a bullet into his heart.

  “There’s your cure,” she slurred.

  The white seeped across her vision and her body filled with a buzzing sensation as she fell forward across him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Rosemary!”

  Someone was shouting and Romy felt a wrinkle appear between her brows, but she couldn’t move.

  “Oh, god,” the man sobbed.

  She was rolled onto her back, and did her best to open her eyes, but her body didn’t seem to belong to her for now.

  “Atlas, let me see her.”

  “She’s got blood all over her,” the first man said, breath catching. “Where is it coming from?”

  “I can look, but you need to let her go.”

  He didn’t, not completely. But Romy felt new hands on her. They ripped open her clothing and checked. “There’s no blood underneath. That’s not her blood,” the woman said curtly. “Move now; let me check the rest of her.”

  The man’s hold tightened, before he resumed breathing. “She’s alive?”

  “Yes!” the woman snapped. “Now move yer sorry arse.”

  Romy turned her head to where the male had been, vaguely registering the movement of hands over her body.

  Someone whistled. “Houston’s dead. She did that to him?”

  There was the click of a gun and then six shots were fired a few metres to her left.