Decay (22 page)

The door handle began to turn before he even touched it, and he took the opportunity to push it forward roughly, no doubt slamming it into whoever was trying to open it from the other side. He had a lot more strength than she would have anticipated. The guy was lean and developed, but the force he used on the door, and how much effort he put into the task, didn't match. He'd shoved the door forward, but not with all of his weight. Yet the door opened as if it were going to be knocked off of its hinges. When he slammed it shut again, there was a small hand print protruding out the other side.

Angela did her best to ignore everything going on in the other room. There was a lot of yelling, grunting, and slamming going on in there. She knew she had to stay alert and watch the hall, to be ready to blast anyone who might be coming to aide whoever was stationed in the security center. When gun shots started to go off inside the room, however, she panicked. Her hands went to her ears, and she dove for the floor, at first thinking that maybe someone was shooting at her from down the hallway. Once she figured out they were coming from inside of the room, she got worried. There was one final loud crash and then silence. The silence was more frightening than the sounds of struggle. There weren't even voices for her to listen to, no sense of judgment to tell who had won the fight.

Then there was the quiet sound of feet shuffling across the floor, followed by a soft moan. It sounded like Drone.
I don't care what he said, he sounds hurt. I'm going in.
She opened the door and gasped at the sight before her. Four bodies were on the floor, unmasked, unconscious, and bleeding. There was a lot of blood, actually, and the scent had her stomach turning. She refused to vomit. It took her a moment to realize most of the blood came from Drone.

He faced her from where he stood by the command module. There was an assortment of televisions and computer controls. On the screens she could see all of the rooms of the compound they had broken into. Drone smiled, blood dribbling from the corners of his lips. He had a black eye starting to form as well, but that's not what shocked her the most. His torso had three distinct bullet holes in it, blood oozing out.

“Are you okay?” she asked. It felt like a silly question to ask. How could anyone who'd just been shot once, let alone three times, be okay? She reached for the first aid kit on her wrist.

“I'm great,” he said, and there was no hint of sarcasm.

“You've been...”

“Shot?” he laughed. “Don't worry about it, so put that thing away. The important thing is, I was able to stop them from sending the signal to the reinforcements. By the time they figure out something is wrong, our part will be done. It's all up to the other team now.”

“We need to get you back so someone can heal you,” she insisted. “At least let me patch you up.”

He shook his head. “I'm fine. It's why I didn't want you to come in until I told you. In case things got messy. My real power is that I can't feel pain. The downloading and all of that computer stuff is an enhancement I got from a source you don't need to know about. I'll just leave it at my ability made me a good candidate for a complex surgery.” He gestured at where his bullet holes were and on further inspection, Angela saw that while there was blood coming from the wounds, there wasn't torn muscle or organ flesh from where he had been hit. There was metal. He then pointed to a deep gash on his arm, and she could see metal tendons mixed with wires and blinking lights.

A small shriek escaped her lips. Drone's gaze softened into a slight frown. She shook her head and waved her hands in front of her. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I just, I've never...you're a...a cyborg?” She hoped that was right term. JD and she had watched a lot more science fiction movies than she'd ever care to admit, so her knowledge was decent.

“Yeah, and not hurt. I promise,” he gave her a weak smile. “Watch the screen for a moment will you? I...” He paused and hunched forward, putting his hands to his stomach for a moment. He groaned quietly, and then there was the sound of three clunks of metal hitting the floor. She looked down and saw three bullets.

“I thought you couldn't feel pain,” she said. “Because that sounded painful.”

He shook his head. “I can't, but it's still not exactly comfortable.”

“H-how...”

“I've been equipped with a self-repair system. That's all you need to know. Sometimes it takes a moment for the feeling to pass. I don't suppose you've ever had bad gas before? It's a lot like that. Are you watching the screens?” He sat down on the floor and groaned some more. “Seriously, the monitors are going to be a lot more interesting than me. Please watch. I need to know if the retrieval team is in the building or not and if they're okay because we might have to bail them out if they aren't.”

Angela lifted her gaze off of him and forced herself to focus on the many television screens in front of her. Most were empty rooms, a few had people working in them, and one showed the aftermath of what must have been a rather epic battle. There had to have been at least ten bodies on the ground knocked out, or possibly even dead. A small fire burned in a trash can in the background. Gabby was busy ripping a mask off of one limp form. Permanence was rotating his arm and rubbing at his shoulder, possibly hurt. Finally, Egypt was kneeling in the middle of the room, hands folded in front of him, and his eyes were closed as if he were praying. Something told her, she should be glad she wasn't around to witness whatever went down in that room.

She shifted her gaze to a new screen, not wanting to look at or speculate any longer over what happened. Something about the situation wasn't sitting right in her gut. There were so many screens on display. Couldn't the security team have seen so much of what happened and report it to whoever was lying in wait for whatever signal?
They only want us to think we're safe.
Her gaze wandered over a screen where Nehihe stood guard in front of where they'd come in, and then on the screen next to that one she saw her brother.
Unless the bad guys don't know where the artifact is either, and they need us to find it before taking us out completely. Which means there's a leak, a bad guy in the group.

“Drone, we need to get help. Something is wrong,” she said.

“What makes you so sure?” he asked. He slowly stood from the floor, taking the time to dust off his pants.

“Instinct. None of this is adding up. I don't think the trap was a trap at all. It was a diversion.” She shook her head and pressed the button to turn on her communicator. “Chi-chi, be careful. The bad guys are using you too.”

Drone scoffed. “So that's the group you're with. All I hear is how amazing your little troupe is, but it seems to me this is the first real action you've seen.”

“We've done other things,” she said.
Is that resentment I detect in his tone?
“All I care about right now is getting in and out safely. You aren't the only one with family working in the line of fire.”

“Oh, I see. So I shouldn't be jealous that you care so much about Chihuahua's well being?” Both of his eyebrows raised and he smirked.

He's hitting on me!
Angela let out a nervous laugh. “No, can't say you should be jealous of
him
.”

“But you are spoken for?” He leaned onto the console top casually, closing the distance between them.

“Very,” Angela lied. Or maybe it was only a half lie, because in her heart she felt like only Orlando had any kind of claim over her. He just had to choose to take it if he wanted it.

Drone shrugged. “Just curious. I want to understand your motivation and why you're here. Good to know it's not for some guy.”

“Good to know,” she said and noticed her cheeks were flushing with heat.

“Hope I didn't shatter your ego there, though, I will say that having a boyfriend isn't going to stop me from trying when I want to.” His gaze stayed settled on her. She didn't quite know what to make of it, but it didn't leave her feeling too comfortable.

She let out a rather awkward laugh. “No ego shattered here.”
No sparkle and no respect for boundaries. I'm not sure I can trust this guy. He knows too much. He might be the leak, but how do I tell everyone else without them catching on?

 

 

Of all the people Nia had to be paired with, her superiors had picked Chihuahua Man. She'd heard some silly names in her short time working with the Alturans, but that one took the cake. Especially since the guy didn't have any powers having to do with chihuahuas. The guy was kind of yappy and annoying like one, but other than that he didn't seem to do much of anything. Every time she asked, he dodged the question. Finally, she decided that if she didn't engage him in conversation, he wouldn't have a reason to talk. Or so she thought.

“Your costumes are cool,” he said as they made their way through the dark tunnel.

She glanced back at him. “Your costume is...something?” Cliché was one word that came to mind. Why else would he wear his underwear over his pants?

Nia wasn't quite sure what to make of him. As much as the senseless jabber annoyed her, it made a good distraction. The tunnels were narrow and rustic, and they had a long way to travel for it to be completely silent. While Nia loved the dark and creepy, there was something about walking into impending doom that didn't sit well with her. And that's how she felt, like she was doomed.

She'd had a sinking in her gut ever since she left Dallas at the mausoleum, and it petrified her to think that she'd get back from her mission, and he would be gone. If the last words she said to him were angry, she'd never forgive herself. And she was almost certain that if she tried to resurrect him again, he'd ignore her request. Sometimes the dead did that. Most wanted to come back, but some wanted to stay dead.

Chihuahua Man had a way of being annoying, but at least she gave him credit for not letting her feel isolated.
Maybe he feels that way too, and that's why he doesn't shut up?
Potion was being eerily quiet, and that wasn't like her at all. She wanted to know if everything was okay, but she also knew the girl wouldn't talk in front of a stranger. The two were barely friends. It wouldn't be a good idea for her to press her luck.

“So I was told that the members of your tribe make a ritual out of name picking and costumes and stuff, that true?” Chihuahua Man asked.

“That's what I'm told,” Nia said. “It's supposed to be an extension of who you are.”

“And you're black leather corsets and glitter?” he asked.

Nia shrugged and looked down at her outfit. She had on tight black jeans, a leather corset strung loose enough for her to move in but tight enough to show off her curves, and a long black trench coat that kept her warm. Glitter decorated her mask and her short dark hair. “And what dictated your decoration choices?”

“Extension of my soul. When my leader alien boss guy told me about how you do things, I thought it was cool. Thought it made sense and I should emulate it. So I gave it a try and well...” He gestured at his outfit. “'Nough said right?”

“That's one way of wording it,” she mumbled.

“What about you Potion. You follow those same guidelines?” He was bold to address her. Hardly anyone got her to break out of her shell.

This should be interesting,
Nia thought.

Potion let out a small squeak. “I tried.”

“Seems to fit from what I know of you,” he said.

The costume did fit Nia's comrade. A short white dress over black leggings, it accented Potion's calm nature. She had a black cardigan on over that making her look more like she was ready to go to church rather than fight off evil doers. Then again, Potion didn't do a whole lot of fighting. Her specialty was creating enhancements for the abilities of others, or healing aides. Something Nia would need if she was expected to raise two Alturans who had been dead for one-hundred-some years. She wasn't looking forward to seeing what the bodies would look like.

Potion mumbled a small “thanks”.

“You're welcome!”

He's like a squirrel on caffeine or something. I kind of want to shove him into a hamster wheel and push him down a hill just to see what he does.
The guy had way too much energy. She finally saw the door they were supposed to go through and let out a soft breath of relief. At least, she hoped it was the right door. She'd been given rather specific instructions on how they were to enter into the compound. One wrong turn could have easily put her into another town.
Only one way to find out.
She reached for the door handle.

“Let me go first,” Chihuahua said and made his way in front of her. It took some maneuvering since the tunnel was so narrow. Before she could protest, he was already grabbing the door handle himself.

“Excuse me!” Nia huffed.

He faced her, his eyes narrowed as he glared at her through his mask. “My orders were to protect
you
by any means necessary. I'm going first so you don't get hurt by whatever might be on the other side.”

She folded her arms in front of her, glowering.
I'm a big girl. I don't need a bodyguard.
But she got the impression that fighting with him would be like yelling at a brick wall: nothing would come of it and she'd only make herself look stupid.

Slowly, he turned the handle and opened the door a crack. He briefly poked his head through the opening before widening the space enough for him to step through. “Looks good,” he said.

Nia rolled her eyes and stalked into the room. “Of course it does. This is a hidden entrance. The compound used to belong to my tribe, you know. Then the green tribe took it over and held hostage the things of my people.”

“You talk about them like you're from Altura,” he said. He still blocked the doorway which irritated her to no end.

She tapped her hands on her arms impatiently, wondering how long it would take for him to get the picture. “Because my leader is like my family, and his people are my people. Unlike some other tribes, the Yumsaltanz believe in treating us as equals, not tools.”