The Neo-Spartans: Altered World (23 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

              Tyra perched on the railing, several rows up from where the Vaqueros usually parked their motorcycles. She was eyeing the machines, all shiny and colorful in the crazy paintjobs that each Vaquero had done to personalize his bike. Only hers was dusty and abandoned, the oil turning into sludge because there was nobody to take care of it. Ever since Quinn had put her out of commission in the shower, Nico had more than turned a cold shoulder to her.

              She was banned from his quarters and banned from riding her bike. She didn’t know which was worse. But now, sitting here and watching the red and black streaks adorning the side of her motorcycle, dulled by the layer of dust on it, her heart ached. She wanted to feel the leather seat mold to her shape, itched for the rubber grooves of the handle bars, longed for the rhythmic song of the engine. Guys could be replaced, even Nico, but Phoenix—she had given that name to her bike for luck—Phoenix was irreplaceable. Damned Nico! He knew her too well. He knew Phoenix was part of her, practically an extension of her body, and not letting her ride was the cruelest punishment for her crimes. Her eyes stung, maybe she had stared at the bike too long or maybe that carefully engineered pile of metal was the only thing that could elicit any emotion out of her heart. Tyra blinked away the noisome moisture just in time to notice Nico headed her way. She took a deep breath and forced the freon to run in her veins.

              Nico watched Tyra for a while before he approached her. He had seen the unguarded longing, and talking her into another raid would be a piece of cake. She would give him the mandatory run around but she’d agree. Still, he was reluctant to even think about the job. Julius had come to him in a hurry and demanded a delivery. Something was wrong. Julius never came to him—he was summoned by Julius. The request for a delivery without reconnaissance and the protective net the Social Defense Forces insisted on raised some questions in his mind. Not that he was afraid to take the risk; it’s just that the chances for success were slim. He almost said something about it, but Julius was so tight with seething anger that Nico decided not to make the man explode.

              Nico joined Tyra at the railing. He looked toward her motorcycle for a few moments then turned to her. She looked indifferent, but he knew better.

              “He is singing his siren song to you, isn’t he?”

              Tyra granted him a look of contempt. “It’s a bike.”

              “A bike you named Phoenix.” Nico was going to get her out of her comfort zone and had the patience for it. It happened quicker than he expected.

              “You can take your myths and allegories and shove them in the exhaust pipe.”

              Tyra already regretted her emotional outburst. Nico’s amused smile told her she had lost the first round.

              “Uhm. Maybe you should go and dust Phoenix off, take him for a spin.”

              Tyra sprang to her feet. She didn’t realize how quickly she had jumped off that railing and almost ran toward her bike. But she had caught herself in time and now she tried to cover the excitement by confronting Nico.

              “What’s with the sudden magnanimity? I’m not punished anymore? You missed me?”

              “We got a job tonight,” Nico shot back point blank.

              “So you need me.” She narrowed her eyes, foretasting the pleasure of torturing him for a while.

              “You could say that.” Nico was surprisingly cool about it.

              “What, your new fave can’t handle it? Oh, I forgot, she can’t ride,” said Tyra.

              “That’s not it. I taught her to ride,” said Nico.

              Tyra’s face snaked into a smile, “Wait, it’s not the riding that’s the problem. She can’t seduce a rabbit in heat, can she, the poor stiff? And Nico has a problem ’cause trapping those feisty Neo-Spartan boys isn’t that easy without Tyra’s charms. In fact, it’s downright impossible. You should’ve thought twice before you put me on the bench. A leader should anticipate, be one step ahead of everybody. And getting rid of a player who guarantees your good business standing with Julius is not exactly forward thinking.”

              For a moment she savored the effect her little speech was having on Nico. He was downcast and disappointed, and she would’ve preferred a more devastating effect.

              “You’re right, a leader should be one step ahead and anticipate the changes. That’s why I’m putting Phoenix up for sale.”

              Tyra would’ve felt better if somebody had stabbed her right in the heart. Her eyes went wide, she tried to say something but nothing came out.

              “You see, we’ve become quite predictable with the seductive motorcycle babe. I’m sure word has spread and teenage Neo-Spartans have been warned against the hazardous effect of following the call of their hormones. So, we won’t need your services and the gang could definitely use the extra cash from the sale of your bike.” Nico could barely keep his serious face as he watched Tyra turn from deathly pale to livid green. Bull’s eye.

She grabbed him by the shirt, her hands shaking, and hissed in his face, “You blasted son of a flea-infested, rabies-ridden mutt! You go near that bike and I swear I’ll cut your throat with my nails if I have to…” She was too shaken to continue.

              Nico removed her claws from his shirt and grinned at her. “I guess that means yes? Half an hour, Tyra. Be ready.”

              Nico left without looking back, knowing full well that she would glare daggers at his back and as soon as he was out of sight rush to take care of Phoenix.

* * *

              Quinn had pushed the mental replay button for the post-game moment between Nico and Julius, and every time her mind went over the image the sinking feeling in her gut got stronger and stronger. She knew that Julius was responsible for the games, that the big man’s money was the engine behind it all, but what she’d seen wasn’t a happy “Congratulations, here’s your cash, Nico” kind of moment. These were orders being issued. And what if they were the orders Grisner had demanded be filled? She clenched her jaw and tried to silence the voice of suspicion that screamed at her. But everywhere around her there was something confirming her misgivings.

              It was quiet around the camp. No celebratory party. None of the usual mess hall camaraderie. Quinn had noticed that some of the Vaqueros were busy tuning up their bikes. She knew it wasn’t the typical guy obsession with his wheels, there was something almost military in the way they got their bikes ready. A plan was afoot, and when Quinn spotted Nico talking to Tyra, Lucas’s mention of the seductive girl at Gabriel’s kidnapping forced itself to the front line of her memory. Her apprehension that Nico was involved in the Neo-Spartan boys’ disappearance gained solid ground.

              She walked through the camp looking for confirmation—or rather, for signs that would prove she was wrong. The whole operation was hushed. Nico avoided her, and when she tried to pry bits of info out of Jared he dismissed her with one of his sweet jokes and vanished. She wanted to stop obsessing about it. But she couldn’t. One insistent thought kept spinning in her head, sending her down a logical road she didn’t want to follow. She had learned hours before that the Neo-Spartan boys were going to be organ-harvested so that Grant Hughes’s life could be extended. The horror and the hypocrisy of it all were crushing her. For generations they had been blamed for the maladies afflicting the Eugenics and now the power elite was going to kill the youngest of the Neo-Spartans and steal their organs because they knew that their natural purity was the only way to extend life. She clung to the knowledge that Gabriel was still alive. They presumed him unfit because he had used his gift in a brilliant way and Grisner had ordered Julius to replace him with a healthy boy. And now, here were Nico and the gang getting ready for a maneuver. The realization that she had fallen for the guy who had plucked Gabriel out of her life and placed him in the malevolent hands of Grisner and Eugenics Inc. felt as if she’d been carved up without anesthesia.

              She tried to still her thumping heart and order her thoughts. She had to be rational, she had to find proof and somehow stall their mission. She moved stealthily through the hallways and living quarters of her gang and worked her way to the motorcycle parking area. The place was lit with torches as bikes were a precious commodity and nobody wanted to risk theft, so staying hidden was a challenge. Quinn spotted two Vaqueros standing guard. She ducked behind the wall that was once a locker room in the sports arena and tried to keep an eye on the activity through the cracks in it. She didn’t have to wait long. One by one, six Vaqueros came by the lot, took their motorcycles and quietly guided them outside the arena. Tyra showed up, all decked out in skin-tight leather and alluring make-up. Quinn’s heart sank. The image of this vamp made her sick on so many levels. Tyra was in and out like a shadow and finally Nico appeared. He placed some equipment in the luggage compartment of his bike. It was hard to tell what it was, and Quinn didn’t dare stand up and look, afraid that it would blow her cover. He closed the compartment, gave some orders to the guards and headed out. Slinking along the wall, Quinn hurried after him.

              Quinn stumbled through the darkness of the Sanctuary, barely keeping up with Nico’s motorcycle. She was glad he wasn’t going full speed but just coasting in silence. She ran as noiselessly as she could, narrowly avoiding the gauntlet of refuse littering the streets. Nico looked back a couple of times and her breath got stuck in her throat, afraid he might discover her, but he didn’t. It was just his usual cautious self. Eventually, she lost him, but she had got an idea of the general direction he was headed—the perimeter wall. Quinn scurried along on her own tangent, and reached the ugly cement mass that encircled the Sanctuary.

              A couple of hundred yards down from where she was, she spotted the headlights of the motorcycles. Slinking along the wall, Quinn closed in on them without jeopardizing her cover. She paused, and kept her senses alert.

              Nico maneuvered his bike into the center of the group. He looked at his troops and his face seemed gaunt and tortured when illuminated by the headlights.

              “OK, you know the drill. Tyra baits and hooks, we reel in. It’s not going to be easy. We’re doing this blind. We have zero recon on this. No subject, no location. We might have to fish around town. They probably suspect what’s going on and are on the alert.”

              “So what if we don’t find them at all?” Scrap-Iron quizzed, obviously not too jazzed about the prospect of a fruitless hunt.

Nico fixed him with a hard look. “Julius made it clear that not delivering is not an option. Now move it. The guards on Julius’s payroll switch in half an hour.”

              The group rolled the bikes toward the main gate and Quinn watched them as they disappeared one by one beyond the wall. She slumped down, feeling helpless. What she wouldn’t give to unlearn what she had learned in the last several hours!

* * *

              It was past midnight and the group still hadn’t returned. Quinn was staking out Nico’s sleeping quarters, ready to catch him the minute he got back. She had put herself through the merciless centrifuge of trying to separate hatred from love and betrayal from trust, but she had come out of it even more confused and frustrated. How could she fall in love with the guy who had taken her brother away? The image of their first kiss and their exhilarating flight over the canyon ran back to back with the image of Gabriel being attacked and the horror he must have experienced. How could Nico be the source of both? Her worlds had clashed and collapsed and she was left with confusion and pain.

              Quinn got out of her stakeout position and paced around. She couldn’t just wait and anguish. She had to do something. Something to make her feel better. Or worse. Either way. She peered into the night. She should kill him. That was the only possible decision. She’d punish him for his crime and she’d eliminate the source of her hesitation. You can’t be in love with a dead person.

              A muffled noise rumbled outside of the sports arena. Quinn perked up her ears. They must be getting back. She wondered if their raid was successful, if they would bring the victim here into the camp. She’d probably recognize the kid. A wave of sickness washed over her. She composed herself and made her cool rationality speak louder. They’d never do that. They would just deliver him, like an animal straight to the slaughter house. Her anger boiled up and she hid in an alcove from where she could attack Nico the minute he showed up. Determination kept her alert and focused. She listened to the Vaqueros park their bikes, their boots crunching the gravel and dispersing in different directions. Moments later, she detected Nico’s footsteps… heavy, tired.

              She changed her tune. Killing him was too rash. Her cover would be blown and she’d never find Gabriel. Quinn put her back against the cold wall of the alcove and felt relief. Her body stiffened when she heard his heavy footsteps approaching. Nico walked by the alcove and stopped. Quinn could hear her heartbeat like a drum in her ears. He had spotted her. But Nico just stood there, unseeing. He had the posture of a broken man who was carrying an unbearable burden on his shoulders. He rubbed his face as if trying to wipe off some impossible stain. Quinn leaned an inch out of her hiding spot and took a peek. She was so close to him yet completely hidden by the dark. Here in the dark, his stoic façade had crumbled to reveal a sorrowful young man, crushed by the weight of so many wrong decisions. His pain permeated into her and she wanted to embrace him, sooth him, shield him from whatever was causing this angst. But the embers of betrayal and rage burned hot inside her, demanding revenge. Quinn sprang from the shadow of the alcove and tackled Nico. It happened so fast he didn’t know what hit him. In a second, he was thrown to the ground and Quinn pounded him with erratic blows, trying to exorcise the devastating conflict that was ripping her apart. Few hits landed in the right spot to make Nico snap out and deal with his assailant. He grabbed Quinn’s fists and shoved her off. He got back on his feet as she staggered away. She realized she had put herself in deep water. He was staring at her, unable to figure out why she, of all people, had attacked him.