Colliding Worlds Trilogy 03 - Explosion (5 page)

It was this relay that Roden, the Draeken member of the Triad, and Sienna, serving as the Sephian member of the Triad in place of Apolo, employed this morning. It took eleven minutes for Talla to convey and receive back the orders in triplicate. The human soldiers would have noticed the increased activity if they weren’t so busy getting themselves onto packed up and loaded onto trucks. They likely chalked the activity to gossip about what they were doing. Humans tended to think most things revolved around their coming and going.

Not that the humans cared, anyway. They were leaving the Etzee behind, literally and figuratively. By six forty-seven, every Etzee resident should have been ready to initiate Roden’s plan. Now came the waiting part.

“Need any help?” Talla asked, stepping into the trailer her brother shared with his wife and son. Laze sat with his arm around a very pale Sarah on the sofa. With a deadpan stare, she watched as Jacen played on the floor.

Laze looked up, relieved. He glanced at his wife, then back to Talla. “How about you carry Jacen to the truck.”

Talla walked over to the toddler, but Sarah bolted forward as though she’d just awakened. Dropping to the floor, she grabbed onto Jacen. The boy whimpered and flapped his wings at being taken from playing with his small blocks but then quickly giggled, returning his mother’s hug. “Mama!”

As Sarah walked past Talla, she paused, reached out, hugged Talla with her free arm, and mouthed the words
thank you
.

Talla gave her a warm smile as Laze came to stand at Sarah’s side, his eyes filled with concern. Sarah was holding up better than Talla had expected. One of only a few human residents restricted to the Etzee, she’d grown up in a small town, never knowing violence aside from what she’d seen on the news. She’d gone from college student to new mother to Etzee prisoner in a little over a year. After she was taken during the Club Mayhem raid, her parents and friends had been sent reports that she’d been killed in a car accident. She lost everything she knew simply because she’d gotten pregnant by — and fallen in love with — a Draeken.

Not fitting in anywhere, Sarah was constantly ridiculed by the soldiers. “ET whore” was one of the less cruel names Talla had heard her friend called. But another thing Talla had seen in both Jax and Sarah was that humans were resilient. The ridicule slid off Sarah whose spunky, Gothic-girl exterior rarely showed cracks. While Talla knew Sarah struggled with depression, she never showed any regrets at the decisions she’d made that led her into Laze’s arms and to the Etzee.

Laze cupped Sarah’s cheeks and kissed her forehead. “Everything will be all right. Soon.”

There was much more to Laze’s and Sarah’s relationship than the fact that she bore him a son. Ever since Laze had met her at Club Mayhem, he adored her, even if it took him some time to change his flirty ways. He’d even gone so far to marry her in a traditional human wedding a few months after Jacen was born. He doted on her and Jacen relentlessly.

Talla suspected Laze blamed himself for Sarah being taken when the Club had been raided, forced to carry out the remaining seven months of her pregnancy in a military hospital. Laze hadn’t even been allowed to see her until after their son had been born. He’d been imprisoned, undergoing torture and tests constantly until the peace treaty had been signed.

Their son, Jacen, was the first Draeken-human hybrid born in history. Not yet two years old, he could already glide short distances with his wings. Even this young, it seemed that hybrids, with the smaller stature of humans and wings built for larger bodies, would prove to be better fliers than their pure-blooded Draeken counterparts.

Though Sarah didn’t have it easy, poor Jacen had suffered worse than anyone at the Etzee. From the day he was born, tests had been done weekly, sometimes daily, to check his blood and to better understand the impact of Draeken DNA on human physiology. It wasn’t until the Etzee was established that Jacen found any relief. One of Roden’s stipulations in relocating his people to the Etzee was no child could have tests done without their parents’ permission. Then, if tests were approved, every child was required to have a parent present at all times. The threat of Draeken firepower looming in Earth’s orbit was just enough for the humans to behave on the Etzee.

While Jacen continued to have night terrors, Laze and Sarah forced the tests to be cut back to blood work and x-rays only, and even then, only once per month. But Jacen was no longer the only hybrid to undergo painful tests. Six other hybrid children had been born within the months following Jacen’s birth. Four were born with adorable, fully Draeken wings. The remaining two carried the latent gene; no one knew if they’d develop the extra appendages at puberty.

The children brought hope to both the Draeken people as well as humans, but for far different reasons. Draeken saw a future. Human doctors became fascinated with the dominant wing gene, which they saw as changing the face of warfare. Talla suspected the humans would try to take the hybrids when they evacuated this morning, and so the first objective was to protect their youth at all costs. Any trailer with a hybrid had nearly two dozen “visitors” to stand watch inside and out.

And sure enough, soldiers had come to each trailer, requesting their child for an “innocuous test,” only to be turned away. With the number of Draeken — and even some Sephians — guarding each trailer, the humans were sorely outnumbered. And so they’d returned to the doctors empty-handed. A small win, but a win nonetheless.

“Looks like you’re all set,” Talla said, eying the hilt of a blade in Laze’s boot. His blade made hers look worthless in comparison, but it was sharp enough to slice cleanly through a carotid artery.

She had a second, even smaller blade, tucked into her own boot. While weapons were prohibited and possession came with severe punishment, the soldiers couldn’t find every weapon both Sephians and Draeken alike hid. Soon they’d have more sophisticated weapons. Most of their blasters, which had been taken for “safekeeping,” had long ago disappeared from the Etzee. But some remained, in locked storage, in case riots broke out. Those critical weapons were about to be retrieved and distributed the moment the soldiers closed the gates.

While Talla, Laze, and his family could sneak out with Jax, the others weren’t so lucky. They’d quickly realized that even without spotters there was no way to get everyone off the Etzee without being noticed. And so they’d have to take their chances, hiding in the woods for the dangerous hours until the
Striga
could land and whisk them to safety. They would cut out their tracers as soon as possible, but even so, they expected planes and troops to be scouring the area.

Roden had finally acknowledged that the time for compromise was over. They would carve out a home on this world, despite what the humans thought. The time for peace would end this morning.

Sarah glanced at her watch and then looked from Talla to Laze. “It’s time.”

Talla had an instant wide grin, and pulled out a small bolt cutter from a cargo pocket. It wasn’t much, but it was all Jax could round up in any quantity. “Want me to do the honors?”

Laze shot a matching smile before giving her his back. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

It took a couple tries to fit the cutters around the tight bands. She scraped skin as she fit one end of the cutter under the thick plastic restraint, but Laze didn’t flinch. She grunted, squeezing the handles together as hard as she could for a long second before the band broke with an audible
snap
. No sooner than the band fell to the floor did Laze slowly spread his wing, the bones cracking. The skin that had been under the band was red and inflamed. He winced, but didn’t complain.

She cut the band from his other wing as quickly as she could, and then handed him the cutter, and did a quick skip. “My turn.”

Giving him her back, she tried not to grunt as Laze fit the cutter. He cut her bands off much more quickly and smoother than she had cut his, and she waited until both bands were removed before stretching. Her wings protested the movement, and she hissed through her teeth at each painful inch.

“It gets better after a few more stretches,” Laze said, still flexing his wings as Jacen kept reaching out, trying to grab them, giggling.

“It’s a good burn,” Talla said as she moved her wings to and from her body. The pain was akin to trying to walk on a foot that had been asleep for hours, times exponential multiples of twelve. But the sensation of stretching the integral part of her body made her feel like a Draeken again, like she’d suddenly become whole.

Sarah ran a hand down Laze’s wing. “I’ve missed these,” she said with a glint in her eye.

He turned and embraced her. With Jacen pinned between them, he kissed her. “And I look forward to what you’ll do to them later.”

He gave her another kiss before releasing her and picking up two bags on the floor by the sofa. After helping Sarah into her backpack, one arm at a time so she could continue to hold Jacen, he slid his bag over his shoulder. Backpacks and wings didn’t mix. “No bag?” he asked.

Talla shrugged. “Everything I own is on the
Striga
.”

Laze gave her a knowing look. Like her, he’d been taken prisoner, stripped of their weapons, even of their Draeken clothing.

No one spoke again as they left the trailer that had served as a home and prison for the past year. Keeping her wings tucked tight against her back in case humans still lurked, Talla glanced around. For one minute, the entire Etzee seemed utterly desolate. Then, as eight-thirty came, shapes began to filter out one by one. Some Draeken spread their newly freed wings in the sunlight, and Talla followed suit. Her outspread wings soaked up heat from the sun, and it felt incredible.
Freedom!

Sephians, who lived on the opposite side, migrated to meet in the open area on the south end, setting aside lifetimes of hatred for a common goal. A corn field and then trees sprawled beyond the tall fence. It was deemed better for hiding than the bean fields and roads leading in the other three directions.

As the dirt walkways became crowded, Sarah was the only human in sight. Turning east, Talla led Laze and his family toward the rendezvous point. They met a group of Sephians laden with heavy black duffels. They eyed Talla and Laze and were continuing past, but one Sephian, upon seeing Sarah and Jacen, paused and threw a quick glance to Laze and Talla. “Need a blaster?” he asked.

Laze shook her head. “Nah. We’re good.”

Talla nodded in agreement.

The Sephian looked surprised, but then moved along.

Laze and Talla had Jax to see them to safety. Those who remained needed protection far worse than them. A blaster could buy precious seconds should the humans attack while they waited for transport to the
Striga
. Whether the Sephians and her people could put aside their distrust enough to live together on a single core ship or kill off one another remained a risk no one was ready to discuss yet.

Getting out of the Etzee was the more immediate issue.

It took a couple more minutes to get within eye distance of the main gate. Still no sign of soldiers or their fleet of trucks. The gate was closed and locked. Dust billowed from the road leading off into the distance. The humans had cleared out. Except for one truck backed up against the closest — and now open — unloading gate. Her heart pounded with anticipation.

In the shadow of the truck, a lone soldier stood. He gave her a slight nod, and she smiled, jogging straight for the open gate. Jumping up on the metal platform, she noticed that the other five families were already inside, and the truck was full.

As Laze helped his family on board, she remained on the ramp. “When you said it would be tight in here, you weren’t joking,” Laze called out to Jax through the gate.

Jax stepped closer and leaned against the bars. With one arm propped over his head, his bicep was put on display from under his OD green T-shirt. The cotton loosely hugged well-defined muscles, showing just enough that she wanted to see more. He was tall for a human, coming in at an inch or two above her height, and many times she found herself looking into those brown eyes wondering what went on in that head of his.

Like always, he never looked away, never showed any expression other than that same hard look he’d had since the day he showed up on the other side of her prison cell two years ago.
A lifetime ago.
So much had changed, yet nothing had changed. She still never knew what he thought when he watched her. She still didn’t know why it became hard to breathe whenever he was around, though she considered that kind of ignorance both a blessing and a curse.

Instead of a reply, he glanced at his watch, then looked to his right. “We need to move faster.” A small group walked toward them, led by a Draeken and a Sephian. Roden’s wings were outstretched in the morning sunshine as though flaunting his impending freedom. Nalea walked at his side. Her
soullare
, the tribal-like markings covering her gold skin, were identical to the tattoos spanning Roden’s wings. It was a bold display of the love he felt for his Sephian consort. Most Draeken would never dare, but Roden had always dared much.

Roden glanced to the sky. “
Fyet!
” He yelled into his wrist-com, “Get here now!”

Talla followed his gaze and squinted into the sunlight. At least a mile or more upward, jets were closing in fast from the east. She turned to Jax, who was trying to make out what she and Roden had seen. “They’re coming,” she said.

Jax looked at his watch and cursed. “Twenty-one minutes early.
They’re too early.
” He snapped at Roden. “Tell me your distraction is ready.”

Roden, who’d been jogging toward them, came to a stop. “They’ll be here in less than a minute.”

Dots appeared in the sky, and Talla sucked in a breath. “They will be too late,” she whispered. She watched the dots grow bigger as they fell toward them.

Jax stood in numb silence for the next interminable second. Nothing existed except for a dark mass of H6 bombs making their unerring path to the Etzee.