Unbroken: Outcast Season: Book Four (31 page)

“I’m not a terrorist,” Joanne said, pausing in her quest to drain her entire bottle in one gulp. She looked pale beneath the drying blood. “I have clearances. Sort of.”

“Yeah, well, you entered under false pretenses, blew up the place, and there’s radiation all over the county, so I kind of think you’re a terrorist by definition,” he replied. “And because we came to get you, we’re a terrorist cell, I guess. Great. Always wanted to be on some kind of no-fly list, although after today I guess that covers
everybody in the world. Won’t be too many planes getting off the ground these days. Too easy for the Djinn to take them out.”

Joanne finished the rest of her water. I hoped she wouldn’t make herself ill with it; she’d drained it too quickly. I wasn’t so concerned for her as I was for my own fastidiousness; human bodily functions, including vomiting, were still very distasteful to me. “Who else is coming our way?” she asked.

“Not sure. Cops, fire, every federal agency still operating? Maybe the military. This wasn’t some small-time target, you know. It’s going to get a lot of attention, as much as circumstances allow.”

“So I suppose we should…?”

“Seal up the tunnel, contain the radiation, and get the hell out of Dodge? Yeah. That’d be a good plan.” Luis—who also had finished his water too quickly—tossed his empty plastic bottle down into the tunnel, where it rolled into darkness.

“Bad recycler,” Joanne said, but tossed her empty in as well.

“Jo, you brought down the whole fucking complex and cracked open a few nukes. I don’t think a couple of biodegradable water bottles really count at this point.”

He rose to his feet, and I rose with him, as if we’d been pulled by the same string. Our hands fit together as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and for a moment I remembered David cradling Joanne in his arms, and smiled. There were partnerships, and partnerships, and what I felt for Luis.…

It was not the time to analyze what I felt, and I shook my head to clear it as Luis began to call power.

Collapsing a tunnel was far, far easier than building one, or keeping it open; a little application of force, and the smooth, even structure began to come apart… in
streams of dirt at first, and then, as the surface tension holding the earth together broke, an avalanche of soil and rock. Luis pressed down on the wrecked room where we’d found Joanne, and the last remaining roof supports collapsed, burying it in a roaring thump.

Dust erupted out of the mouth of the tunnel, gray and cloudy, turning darker as the collapse raced up toward us.

Then the entire pit sank down another ten feet, and silence fell.

“If we had time, I’d recommend covering this whole place in concrete,” he said. “The radiation’s contained, and I accelerated the decay, but it’s going to take a while to cool off.… Damn—here they come.” Luis turned slightly toward the horizon, and I heard the far-off wail of sirens. “Right. Time to go. Who needs a ride?”

Joanne—who’d taken my last bottle of water and somewhat wastefully used it to rinse herself relatively clean—shook her head. She was busy plucking the bottles
out
of the padded case where I’d put them, and wrapping them in a dense wad of material, which she then stuffed into my nearly empty backpack and handed to me. “You’re the official keeper of the Djinn. Try not to fall on that,” she said. “That would be bad.”

I took the pack and adjusted the straps on my shoulders to let it ride comfortably. “What was wrong with the box?”

“One thing about carrying boxes—you tend to drop them in a fight,” she said. “Wearing them is a much better option.” She studied me for a few seconds. “You don’t look happy about it.”

I hated that she’d made me responsible for my tethered, imprisoned brothers and sisters,
hated
it, but I couldn’t articulate the reasons. Nor would I, to her. “We need to go. The Djinn will be back on us soon, and we don’t
need more entanglements with humans.” I knew, better than she did, that the rest of the Djinn would make us a priority now—we weren’t merely annoying Wardens to be squashed; we were annoying Wardens with prisoners who knew that the accords between Djinn and Wardens were back in place and that it was
possible
to enslave the Djinn again. That was knowledge they would very much want to destroy at its source before the rest of the Wardens began to try to act on it.

Joanne was asking where we wanted to go. Luis said, “It’s all pretty much apocalyptic at this point, so take your pick. I’d suggest heading to Sedona. That’s where Orwell was taking the rest of the Wardens, if they didn’t get held up on the way. It’s a fairly good, protected place.”

We headed for the vehicles, and Luis stopped dead as he stared at his truck. “Damn,” he said, and kicked the front tire. It was sitting in mud—mud that stank of oils and mechanical fluids. “I must have busted a line. This thing ain’t going anywhere.” He could fix it, given time; Earth wardens were gifted at that kind of repair, but the sirens were keening close now.

“Then you’re with me,” I said, and pulled him with me toward the motorcycle. He let loose a string of Spanish obscenities under his breath.

“I ain’t riding bitch,” he said.

“Then you’re walking,” I said, “because it’s my bike.” I was not concerned for his macho sensibilities, and after a furious look at the now-visible flashing lights on the horizon, he climbed on behind me. I smiled—since he couldn’t see the flash of teeth now—and gunned the Harley in a sand-spouting roar.

Joanne and David had their own transportation, a solid-looking car that seemed capable of good speed when required. Oddly, there was
already
someone in the
car that was parked a short distance away, covered with the inevitable blurring curtain of dust… and that was the car that Joanne and David entered, in the backseat. No sooner did the door close behind them than the car spun tires and headed for the road. “Who’s driving the car?” I asked Luis. He shrugged.

“Knowing her? Satan.”

I let out the clutch and followed. A few moments later, power shimmered the air, and I felt something passing over us like a hot gust of wind. “Veil!” Luis shouted in my ear. “We’re hidden, so don’t expect anybody to get out of the way for you from now on!”

I gunned the engine and passed the Mustang, slowing down to take a look at the driver, purely out of personal curiosity. He was a Djinn—or at least, that was my first and vivid impression, but then I had to wonder, because there was something not quite… right. The
form
of a Djinn, but when I checked in Oversight I saw no sign of a Djinn presence inhabiting that form. It was like a lifeless robot—the kind of hollowed-out shell that Mother Earth was using to deliver her plagues, but this one showed no such signs of infection.

Merely… emptiness.

As I was staring, the creature turned its head and met my gaze. Not vacant, after all. It was definitely being—piloted, I supposed, was the only word for it.

The Djinn’s lips moved, and I shouldn’t have been able to hear the words, but they came through clearly. “Don’t you worry about it,” said a clear, Southern-accented feminine voice. “He’s not connected to the Mother. He’s connected to me.”

“And who are you?”

“Whitney,” she said. “Djinn conduit for the younger side of the family. Pleased to meet you, Cassiel. I’ve heard all about you.”

I’d
heard little to nothing of her, but there wasn’t time for chat. I just nodded, accelerated, and pulled smoothly into the lead.

We stood to make good time, I thought. It would not be too comfortable for Luis on the backseat of the bike, but he had a high padded back support, at least. He wasn’t holding on to me, because that would have put his face in range of my loose, whipping hair, and the backpack I wore prevented closer contact in any case; it would be tiring for him to keep adjusting his balance and keep his alertness up for any emergencies.

As for me, I knew I’d enjoy the ride, no matter how dangerous it might become.

I checked the gas. We had an almost full tank; the Mustang that Joanne and David used would burn through fuel much faster; but then again, with a Djinn driver they wouldn’t need to stop to refuel.
Neither do I,
I realized with a start. While as a Warden I could extend the life of the fuel, I couldn’t necessarily
create
it… but a Djinn could, and I now had one uncorked, and ready for my call.

Rahel wouldn’t be
at all
pleased with being put on such mundane duties, but that was hardly my concern now; I’d be dealing with the revenge of my fellows for a human lifetime, if I didn’t manage to recapture my Djinn status… or, of course, for much longer, if I did. Now didn’t seem to be the time to worry about it.

We negotiated roadblocks, both police and military, several times as sunset blazed red and faded to purple, then blue, then black. The desert night was chilly as we raced onward, following the Mustang… which seemed to be heading in the right direction, at least. The vibration of the engine beneath me soothed and invigorated me, although Luis seemed to doze behind me as he rested his head against the padding of my backpack.

Just when I’d
begun to feel complacent, Rahel appeared in front of me, cross-legged, her back to the road. Floating mid-air, easily keeping pace three feet from the front tire of the Harley as it bit the asphalt in a blur. She was wearing a particularly objectionable color of lime green, something that made me think of the radiation we’d left behind us and cleared off our persons and equipment. Perhaps it had all been drawn to her clothing.

“Sistah,” she said. “Or should I call you
mistress
, Cassiel?”

“As you like,” I said. I didn’t raise my voice; I could whisper and she’d have no difficulty hearing me, despite the engine noise and wind. “You do enjoy showing off, don’t you?”

“Utterly,” Rahel said, and laughed. “You should try it sometime. Being Djinn doesn’t mean you have to lack a sense of drama. Or humor.” The wind blew her thin braids into a clacking, twisting, eerily snakelike mass around her head, and in perhaps conscious mockery of popular culture’s idea of a proper Djinn, she’d crossed her arms. I half expected her to give a nod and a wink, but the sharp amusement in her smile faded, leaving something more serious. “I have a message for you.”

“From whom?”

“From your big, bad boss man,” she said. “Ashan. He’s still a bastard.”

“Why would he speak to
you
?” I didn’t mean it in a dismissive way, but it sounded so as I spoke it; I meant only that Ashan was a True Djinn, a
conduit
, and the True Djinn had little interest in, or interaction with, the New Djinn unless forced. The idea that he would seek out Rahel, speak to her, seemed… highly unusual.

“Perhaps because with the end of us all imminent, our family squabbles mean little these days,” Rahel said coolly. “It
cost him a great deal to regain enough control, even for a moment, to summon me and speak. You might at least have the courtesy to listen to what he felt was so important.”

I nodded stiffly. It wasn’t that I was unwilling to hear her, more that I was dreading what the words would be—and the trouble that they’d bring with them.

I expected her to simply recite the message, but as Rahel had pointed out, she did not lack a sense of drama. Her eyes flashed through with a sudden gleam of color… a faded teal blue, then a moonlit steel. Ashan’s colors. And Ashan’s voice issuing from her mouth, in an eerie puppetry. “The time is coming for you, Cassiel,” he said, and that
was
Ashan, looking out from the shell of Rahel’s form. Ashan’s cold, certain voice, speaking to me from beyond time, from another place altogether. “Your little vacation from duty is almost over. Face your fears
now
. Face yourself. See what I know to be true about you… that you are not one of them, and never will be. If you value the continued existence of the Djinn, you will act. Soon. Unless you’ve grown too weak with your love of humanity.”

He smiled, and it was not a pleasant expression, or a kind one. It woke rage in me, and fear, and a desire to throttle him blue, not that in his case it would make much impression on him at all.

And then, with just as much speed as he’d appeared, Ashan was gone, and Rahel was back in her own form, cocking an eyebrow at my expression. “I see you didn’t care for what he had to say,” she said. “How surprising. And you’re usually so good-natured.”

“Silence,” I snapped. “Go do something useful.”

“Not unless you have a highly specific order for me.” She stretched herself out sinuously on thin air, propped up on one elbow, and yawned, showing pointed catlike
teeth. Her eyes slitted vertically, and the pupils glowed an unnatural green in the Harley’s headlights. Her skin had a warm matte glow to it, and in her own way she was as beautiful as anything I’d ever seen.