The taxi jumps a curb at one point, shooting down a stretch of narrow sidewalk to avoid stalled traffic. It’s totally crazy and I admit it I love every second of it. Years of running, hiding, and fighting have turned me into a total adrenaline junkie. Marina plants her hands on the headrest in front of her, refusing to look out the windows while Ella leans over her, trying to take it all in.
With no warning, the driver jerks the taxi violently down a road that runs behind a long row of warehouse buildings. The street is flanked by dozens of men with AK-47s. Our driver nods at them as we fly past. Crayton looks over his shoulder at me. His concerned face makes the knot in my stomach grow larger. The road is suddenly and noticeably absent of traffic.
‘Where are you taking us?’ Crayton demands of the driver. ‘We need to go south and you’re headed north.’ Marina’s head jerks up and she and Ella look over at me questioningly.
All of a sudden the car screeches to a halt and the driver dives out the door, rolling away from the taxi. A dozen vans and covered trucks surround the car. Each vehicle has a similar smudge of red paint on the doors, but I can’t quite make out what it is. Men in street clothes jump out of the vans, machine guns ready.
Now the adrenaline really starts to flow. It always kicks in before a fight. I look over at Marina and see the terrified look on her face, but I know she will take her cues from me. I keep myself calm. ‘You guys ready? Marina? Ella?’ They nod.
Crayton puts his hand up. ‘Wait! Look at the trucks, Six. Look at their doors!’
‘What?’ Ella asks. ‘What’s on their doors?’
The men come closer, their shouts growing urgent. I’m too focused on the imminent danger to consider what Crayton is talking about. When people with guns threaten me, or the ones I love, I’ll make sure they regret it.
Marina looks out the window. ‘Six, look! Are those number –’
I finally see what they’re all staring at just as the door next to Marina is whipped open. The red smudges on the truck doors are all eights.
‘Out!’ the man yells.
‘Do as he says,’ Crayton says under his breath, voice calm. ‘For now, we do what they want.’
We carefully get out of the taxi, our hands up, all four of us transfixed by the red numbers painted on the truck doors. We must be moving too slowly because one of the men leans forward and impatiently yanks Ella forward. She loses her balance and falls down. I can’t help myself. I don’t care if they’re with Number Eight or not, you don’t knock a twelve-year-old girl to the ground. I heave the man into the air with my mind, tossing him onto the roof of a warehouse across the street. The other men panic, whipping their guns around and screaming to one another.
Crayton grabs my arm. ‘Let’s find out why they’re here and if they know where Number Eight is. If we need to, we’ll strike with full force then.’ Still furious, I shake off his hand but I nod. He’s right – we don’t know what they want with us. Better to find out before they’re unable to explain.
A tall bearded man wearing a red beret steps out of one of the covered trucks and slowly walks towards us. His smile is confident, but his eyes are wary. A small pistol sticks out of his shoulder holster.
‘Good afternoon and welcome,’ he says in thickly accented English. ‘I am Commander Grahish Sharma of the rebel group Vishnu Nationalist Eight. We come in peace.’
‘Then what are the guns for?’ Crayton asks.
‘The guns were to convince you to come with us. We know who you are and would never engage in a battle with you. We know we’d lose. Vishnu told us you are all powerful like him.’
‘How did you find us?’ Crayton demands. ‘And who is Vishnu?’
‘Vishnu is the all-pervading essence of all beings, the master of the past, present and future, the Supreme God, and Preserver of the Universe. He told us you would be four in total, three young girls and one man. He asked me to convey a message to you.’
‘What’s the message?’ I say.
Commander Sharma clears his throat and smiles. ‘His message is: “I am Number Eight. Welcome to India. Please come and see me as soon as you can.” ’
4
The sky is gray and heavy. The woods are dark and cold. Most of the leaves have fallen from the trees and lie dead on the ground. Nine walks ahead of me, scanning the landscape for game. ‘You know, that rabbit was better than I thought it would be.’ He produces a short piece of vine from his pocket and pulls his shaggy black hair into a ponytail. ‘I’ll make it again tonight if you’re interested.’
‘I think I’ll figure something else out.’
He looks surprised at my squeamishness. ‘Scared of fresh kill? You have to eat if you want to get your strength up. I don’t know why, but our healing stones don’t do jack shit for your pain. And, you know, this sickness thing of yours is a real drag. Time’s a-wasting, dude. We need to get you better and we’ve got to get out of here.’
I know how weak my body is by how tired I feel as we walk. We’re only a couple of hundred yards from our ramshackle house and I’m exhausted already. I want so badly to be back there, sleeping. But I know I won’t feel normal again if I don’t get off my butt and move.
‘Hey Nine, let me tell you about this dream I just had,’ I say.
He snorts. ‘A dream? No thanks, man. Well, unless it was about girls. That you can tell me all about; in detail.’
‘I saw Setrákus Ra. I talked to him.’ Nine pauses, then keeps walking. ‘He offered me a deal.’
‘Oh, yeah? What kind of deal?’
‘If I go back to him and face him, he said he’ll let everyone else live, including Sam.’
Nine snorts. ‘That’s a load of crap. Mogadorians don’t make deals. At least, they don’t make deals with any intention of keeping up their end of the bargain. And they don’t show mercy.’
‘I figure, why not just pretend I’m taking him up on it? I have to go back to the cave anyway to get Sam out.’
Nine turns to me, his face a mask of disinterest. ‘Hate to break it to you, dude, but Sam’s probably dead. The Mogs don’t care about us, and they don’t care about humans. I think you had a bad dream, and I’m sorry you got all scared and felt the need to bore me with it. But even if you did channel Setrákus Ra, that kind of offer is obviously a trap and you’ll die walking into it. In fact, you’ll die going within ten miles of that place. I guarantee it.’ He spins around and walks away from me.
‘Sam’s not dead!’ I say, anger welling up inside of me, giving me a strength I haven’t felt in days. ‘And the dream was real. Setrákus Ra was torturing him! I watched his skin sizzle from boiling liquid dropping onto it! I’m not going to just sit around here and let it continue to happen.’
He laughs again, but this time it isn’t with a sneer. Not exactly reassuring, but definitely more gentle. ‘Listen, Four. You’re too weak to even run in place, never mind fight the most powerful being in the galaxy. I know it sounds heartless, dude, but Sam is human. There’s no way you can save them all, so stop wasting your time and energy. It’s not like you have an unlimited supply of either.’
The Lumen in my palms starts to light up. I’m in control of it now, a definite improvement. I’m hoping the glow is a sign the effects of the blue force field are wearing off. ‘Look. Sam is my best friend, Nine. You need to get that and keep your opinions about my energy to yourself, okay?’
‘No, you look,’ says Nine. His voice sounds flat. ‘This isn’t playtime. We’re at war, dude: war. And you can’t make this about your feelings for Sam, if it makes everyone else less safe. I will not let you abandon the rest of us to face Setrákus Ra, just for Sam. We’re going to wait until you feel better, whenever the hell that is, and then we’re going to meet up with the others and train until we’re ready. If you don’t like it, then you’ll have to fight me to get out of here. And I’m so ready for a fight, so, really, bring it on. I could use the practice.’