Glory Page 3

  “Okay.” Her shoulders slump. “But I-I should . . .”

  “Don’t worry, Jayma. It’s okay. Just hurry.”

  We run, but we’re far behind the guys, and my own fear starts to take over. I’m frightened for Cal but more for my brother. He’s too young to die, and he’s not trained for this. The boys drop out of view. Jayma’s cheeks are red, her breathing heavy, but she’s running fast, pushing through her fear.

  We slide down a slope and spot Cal and Drake. They’re talking to Burn.

  My stomach flips. I haven’t seen him since the day he brought us here from Haven.

  Cal’s standing at attention, like he’s in the middle of a Comp drill. His shoulders and chest are broad, but next to Burn he looks slight. It’s like Cal’s made from taut ropes compared to Burn’s solid rock. Solid but relaxed—in the same way the large boulder sits by the lake. No tension, just power.

  It’s hard to remember that Burn’s only sixteen. In every important way, he’s a man. He picks up a stick and scrapes it along the ground as Cal and Drake watch. I want to see what he’s drawing, but I’m finding it hard to breathe. Burn’s arm muscles flex with each motion, and his pants hang low on his hips, tied as usual with a slipknotted rope, ready to expand if his body changes. His long coat is on the ground beside him.

  “Should we join them?” Jayma asks.

  I croak, “Yes.” I swallow. “Of course.” I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing here gaping at Burn. And I’m angry with myself for wasting even a moment while Concord’s under attack.

  I stride toward the guys. “What’s going on?”

  Burn’s head snaps toward me, and he draws a sharp breath. He stands and rakes his chin-length brown hair away from his face. “Shredders were spotted in a clearing on the far side of the path to Concord.”

  “How many? Are they headed for the pass?”

  “About a dozen,” Burn says. “Everyone in Concord who can fire a gun headed there.”

  “What about you?” Drake asks.

  “I came to find you.” Burn glances at me.

  “Is anyone stationed here?” Cal points to the map that Burn scratched in the ground, and he scrapes an arrow at the edge of what must be the lake. “What if they attack from this direction?”

  “They won’t,” Burn says.

  “The cliff’s too steep everywhere else,” I tell Cal. “There’s no way to get down. Concord is only accessible through the pass.”

  “What’s to keep someone from crossing the ridge farther down and coming along the beach?” Cal asks.

  “We’re wasting time.” Burn draws a revolver from his coat and hands it to me. It’s a weapon from BTD, but I’ve learned how to use one.

  “Thanks,” I say. “Give one to Cal.”

  Burn grunts and picks up another gun for Cal and one for Drake. He eyes Jayma, then looks at me. I shake my head.

  Cal checks the safety on his weapon, then tucks it into his waistband. “I still say we could be attacked from this direction.” He gestures with the stick along the drawing of the lake where the ridge forms a high cliff as far as the eye can see.

  “Go where you want,” Burn snaps. “But you’re on your own. We can’t spread ourselves thin.”

  “In Comp training,” Cal says, “we were trained to attack from at least two flanks.”

  Burn’s eyes narrow under his thick, dark brows. “Do you think Shredders are organized? That they plan attacks or follow rule books like Comps do?” Burn stomps away.

  Drake follows him. “Are you coming, Glory?”

  “I’ll take Jayma somewhere safe first.” I touch her arm.

  “I should help you fight.” Her voice quavers.

  “No. You just discovered your Deviance. You need to test its bounds before using it to risk your life.”

  “I’ll take her back into Concord,” Cal says. “I’m going to keep watch along the beach.”

  “All alone?” I ask.

  “If I see anyone, I’ll sound this signal.” He pulls a Comp alarm from under his shirt; he must have taken it when we left Haven.

  “Okay.” I glance into the forest. Burn and Drake are way ahead now. “See you soon.”

  Leaving Cal and Jayma behind, I run to join my brother and Burn.

  Chapter Four

  BURN SLOWS TO let me catch up. Drake is ahead but not too far.

  “When did you get back?” I ask.

  “Day before yesterday.”

  “Oh.” He didn’t come by to say hello. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  He turns to me and nods.

  I look down. “And I’m glad your FA unit is here to fight off this attack.”

  “They’re not here,” he says. “I came back alone. My unit stayed.”

  “Why did you come back alone?”

  “I’m not exactly a fan of Fort Huron.”

  “We’re fighting Fort Huron, too?” Burn and I were held and nearly killed in the prison of that military-run town.

  Burn moves a branch out of my way. “No. Rolph’s negotiating for their help.”

  “Their help? Why would the FA deal with those people?”

  “Where did you think we got the tanks from?” Burn asks.

  “They can’t have the only big vehicles left from BTD.”

  “They’re the only ones we know of. Plus, they’ve got weapons—military weapons from BTD—and we have a common enemy.”

  “That doesn’t make them our friends. I’ll bet they just want the dome for themselves. They don’t care about the people inside Haven. They probably see them as meat.” One of our captors threatened to eat Burn.

  He grunts and shoots me a half grin.

  “I’m not joking,” I say. “Are they still using Deviants for Shredder bait?”

  “They claim no,” Burn says. “Things at Fort Huron changed after I killed that general. But they’ve got twelve more of those tanks that still work and way more fuel to run them than they admitted before.”

  “So they’re just letting us use their stuff?”

  “We’re working out a trade. We’ll have to share our next harvest.” He punches his thigh. “Stupid.”

  “Do we grow enough food for that?”

  “Even if we do, we should have just offered seeds. Let them grow their own food.”

  A rapid series of gunshots reverberate through the air. “That sounded like an Aut,” I say. “Only Comps have those. Could it be Management attacking?”

  Burn’s eyebrows rise. We run.

  “Drake, wait for us!” I shout, but my brother’s so fast now, as if his legs are making up for all the time they couldn’t move.

  We race through the trees toward the clearing, hearing shouts and gunshots farther ahead.

  I’ve lost sight of my brother. “Catch up with Drake,” I tell Burn. “Don’t let him get hurt.”

  He turns to me, and I can see him weighing the options in his mind. He doesn’t want to leave me alone, but he knows how much it will hurt me if Drake’s killed. He runs ahead and I lose sight of him, too.

  My lungs burn as I run full tilt, and adrenaline pumps through every inch of my body. If I need it, my Deviance will be primed and ready to kill.

  I catch sight of Burn as I round an outcropping of rock.

  Everything turns quiet.

  “Let him go,” Burn says.

  Who?

  A horrible screeching rises, like metal on metal—Shredders laughing.

  I skirt the edge of the rock. Downed bodies are scattered across a clearing—some of them Concord residents, some of them Shredders. How many are dead?

  A group of six Shredders stands in the center of the field in a vee that looks like a Comp formation. If they’re mimicking Comp behavior, did they come from the Shredder-filled hot zone that surrounds the dome of Haven?

  Scanning the field, I count barely more than twenty on our side, including me. I don’t know everyone in Concord yet. I spot the lookout from the guard station, and the only other person I recogn
ize is Dr. Sanita. She checked us all out when we got here. The others are mostly grandparent-aged adults and kids. The FA left us badly exposed.

  Burn’s back is to me, and he’s about twenty feet away from the group of Shredders.

  Then I see Drake. A Shredder has him. Drake’s armor is up, but that leaves his legs and neck and head exposed, and the Shredder holding him is huge. Its eyes bulge like white balls in its scab-covered face, and tufts of dark hair jut out from its scalp between sections of raw skin and bare bone.

  The arm holding my brother is unusually thick and muscular, out of proportion to the rest of the Shredder’s body. Drake’s feet kick, but in the grip of that huge arm, he can’t move his upper body.

  I race forward. “Don’t hurt him!”

  Burn grabs me, his hand clamped on my arm. I learned techniques in Comp training to break from this hold, but Burn’s right: charging forward will make things worse.

  The Shredder laughs when it sees me, and its yellowed teeth are pointed, like the teeth of reptiles from BTD.

  The monster flicks its tongue and looks at me. “How nice. Something sweet for dessert.”

  With its smaller arm, it tips Drake’s head to the side, and then it plunges its teeth into my brother’s neck.

  A silent scream rips through me, stealing my breath and my reason, and I realize Burn’s holding me tightly.

  “Let him go,” Burn says calmly. “Take me instead.” He’s controlling his Gift, and I’m not sure whether to be glad or angry. The larger, more dangerous version of Burn might prove useful right now.

  On second thought, he might tear Drake apart along with the Shredders.

  The Shredder smiles and the skin at the corners of its mouth cracks, oozing blood so dark it’s nearly black. Blood trails down Drake’s neck, bright red against the shiny armor covering his shoulders.

  “If you’re offering an exchange, I’ll take the girl.”

  Dr. Sanita comes up beside us, carrying a shotgun. “I think I can hit it.”

  “Don’t shoot,” I tell her. “That weapon’s not accurate enough. You’ll hit Drake.”

  “I’m a good shot.” She’s a fragile-looking woman, and it’s hard to believe she can hold that gun, never mind shoot it with accuracy, but she keeps her gun and her dark eyes trained on the Shredder and Drake.

  The Shredder rakes its teeth across Drake’s forehead, opening up jagged gashes. Blood rushes down my brother’s face, and I feel Burn’s hold on me tighten before I realize I’m pulling forward again.

  Drake looks at the doctor. “Shoot,” he mouths to her.

  “No!” I scream.

  Everyone on our side is lined up facing the Shredders, but neither side is taking action. My brother’s eyes roll back in his head. His armor fades as he goes limp, slumped over the Shedder’s arm.

  “Let me go.” I look into Burn’s eyes. “I’ll kill the one holding Drake.”

  Burn’s fingers loosen and brush down my forearm as he releases me. I walk forward slowly, my gun still tucked in the waistband of my pants and my knife at my side, out of sight. If this goes well, I won’t be needing weapons.

  I stop about five feet away.

  “Closer,” the Shredder says. Its voice grates in my ears.

  I step closer. I need it to focus on my eyes.

  “Let him go.” I allow my voice to tremble. “Take me instead.”

  The Shredder looks directly at me and flicks its tongue lewdly.

  I capture the monster with my gaze. Instantly, I can hear its sluggish heartbeat, its nerves firing, and I can sense adrenaline pounding in its thick blood as it oozes through its body. I’d love to strangle the creature’s heart, but instead I choose its brain. I’ll make its head explode.

  Latched onto its mind, I see black and red flashes, snaps of anger and hate and pain. I shudder as images flash through the Shredder’s mind. It’s as if the Shredder’s thoughts are on a TV screen. I see a lab—one I recognize.

  It’s from the Hospital in Haven. I see workers in lab coats putting a mask over the Shredder’s mouth. I feel how the Shredder felt when the dust hit its lungs. The elation, the rush, the power. And then the creeping madness as it remembers the torture that followed.

  I feel the torture, too. Not the pain exactly, but it’s like I’m there, experiencing firsthand the horror.

  Sucking in a breath, I transfer my focus from its brain to its heart. I’m dizzy. Conflicted. Scared. But I can’t let pity stop me from killing this monster. I don’t care if someone in Haven tortured this Shredder. It hurt my brother and it’s still holding him captive.

  Taking hold of the Shredder’s heart, I squeeze. Drawing power from inside me, I seize the heart and stop its pumping. The Shredder’s eyes swell even bigger. Its mouth twists.

  It screams, and the sound slices through my ears like rusty blades.

  Drake drops to the ground.

  Using its oversized arm, the Shredder hits its chest hard enough to break its own ribs. Gunfire and screams fill the air, and the Shredder falls to its knees. Keeping eye contact, I maintain my twisting grip on its heart. I need to be certain it’s dead.

  Dark blood and guts strike its body as bullets tear into the surrounding Shredders.

  A hand grabs my arm. “Enough, Glory.”

  I break eye contact with the Shredder and turn to face Burn.

  “Are you hurt?” he asks.

  “No. Help the others. I’ll get Drake.” I used to pass out after using my Deviance, but it’s under better control now.

  Burn fires his gun at a Shredder that’s fleeing to the woods. The bullet strikes the creature’s back. The Shredder slows but keeps running. Burn follows.

  I crouch down beside Drake and cradle his head in my lap. His eyes are closed. I lean over to put my cheek near his mouth. Feeling a faint exhale, I almost cry with relief. Pressing my hand against the wound on Drake’s neck, I look up, scanning the battlefield for Dr. Sanita. The moment I spot the small woman, a Shredder rips open her chest.

  The doctor’s still standing as her eyes go blank. She collapses.

  Drake gasps for air, and I look down as he opens his eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” His voice is weak. “What happened?” He tries to sit, but I push back on his shoulder. If I can keep him out of this battle, I will.

  “The Shredder that bit you is dead.” I wipe blood from his eyebrows. “Just rest. Stay down.”

  A gun goes off nearby. Drake winces, and I dive over his body.

  His armor rises. “I’m fine.” He pushes against me to sit, and this time he’s too strong; I can’t hold him down.

  “We can’t just lie here.” He reaches into his waistband, but his gun’s not there. “We need to help.”

  “You’re too weak to fight.” I pull out my gun.

  Ignoring me, Drake jumps to his feet. He spots an Aut beside a dead Shredder and rushes to pick it up. It’s one of the guns that the Comps use when they’re outside the dome.

  “Do you know how to use that?” I ask. Drake flicks off the safety, aims it, and fires dozens of bullets in rapid succession. The head of one of the remaining Shredders bursts.

  “How’s that?” He raises an eyebrow.

  At the side of the field, Burn is struggling with a Shredder that throws him to the ground. I race toward them.

  Laughing, the Shredder raises its leg to stomp on Burn. But before its foot lands, Burn thrusts up a metal spear that slices through the Shredder’s chest. Burn rolls out of the way as the creature falls, then pulls a knife from a sheath on his ankle and slits its throat.

  Burn spins back, weapons raised, ready for more.

  Drake still has his Aut ready as he walks unsteadily across the open field, but there are no more Shredders. They’re all dead.

  Burn slides his knife back into his sheath. He wipes dark Shredder blood off his face with the back of his arm and looks into my eyes, which shows a lot of trust given what I’ve just done.

  I
want to dive into his arms, to banish the horror around us, but instead I go to my brother. Drake lowers his gun and lets me pull him into a hug. As I hold him, his armor fades, softening to skin under my hands.

  “You were nearly killed.” I lean back to study him. Most of his face is stained red. So is his shirt.

  He grins. “I’m fine.” He looks around. “How many did we lose?”

  Burn steps up beside us. “The doctor and George. I think that’s all.”

  “Who’s George?” I ask.

  “A good guy,” Burn answers.

  Everything that happened is sinking in. If I can trust what I sensed in its mind, that Shredder wasn’t simply from the hot zone around Haven, it was once from inside Haven. That, plus the Shredders’ Comp-like formations, their team discipline, the Auts—all these things raise possibilities I’m not sure I want to consider.

  What if these Shredders are Comps? Comps that Mrs. Kalin and her so-called scientists turned into Shredders—on purpose. The thought of an army of Shredders under her control is chilling.

  “Does anyone else think this was strange?” I ask.

  Burn turns toward me. “Very.”

  A Comp signal sounds from down by the lake.

  “It’s Cal!” I start to run.

  Chapter Five

  BURN CATCHES UP with me in seconds. “Get on.” He stops and bends over. “I’m faster.”

  Without arguing, I get on his back, holding tight to his shoulders and squeezing his ribs with my legs as he races up through the forest, toward the pass. To my surprise, Drake keeps pace.

  “Go find Jayma,” I tell him.

  Burn and I head through the narrow pass ahead of Drake. Burn’s pumping arms brush my thighs, lighting unwanted fires that I wish I knew how to cool. It doesn’t help that my body’s pressed against his, my face near his neck, and his scent draws out buried memories.

  Drake’s still behind us as we race down the zigzag path into Concord. The place is virtually deserted, but partway down we reach a group of young villagers about Drake’s age. One of them is Tobin, the winged boy I helped get out of Haven. He waves as we go by.