Unique Page 15

  She leans against the wall as she turns away from the window to look at me. “I’m a Psychometrist.”

  I blink. Lily can trace the history of something through touch. It makes sense. When she touched me back in The Shield, she jerked back. Can she read people through touch, too?

  “You were pretty fantastic to observe at Paragon,” Sho says. “Like you could see how the game played out.”

  “Yeah, you were,” Leo agrees, sitting back on his heels.

  I harrumph, glance at Bianca, then move to the shuttered window near Lily to peer out at the street. I didn’t do anything special at Paragon. I just put the puzzle pieces together and found our way out.

  For the moment, I try to block everything else out. I need to focus to understand what’s going on in the Directorate and in Pax—to comprehend how Bianca is alive.

  The streets aren’t quiet anymore. DMA troopers move up and down the road in droves, questioning citizens who look like they would rather be anywhere else. Pax is well known for violence and crime. It’s that one part of Elpis I’ve always been warned to stay away from. But Dad must’ve known I would find my way here. He hid those items in that house, after all. And the way these citizens are dressed. A lot of the clothes are pretty tattered. This borough isn’t violent, it’s impoverished. The only violence I’ve witnessed was caused by DMA presence.

  Why haven’t DMA Telepaths found us yet? I wonder, watching as a woman picks up a boy—her son presumably—and clutches him close to her chest as she hustles past one of the troopers, keeping her head down. A rotting apple falls out of her bag as she sweeps him up, and she hesitates, staring at the fruit, then gives up on it and moves along. She just abandoned her food on the ground to get away from the DMA.

  “Our building has a perception filter on it,” Willow says, stopping beside me with her arms crossed. “I can’t hold it for too long, but it will keep Telepaths away from us for now.”

  Did she just read my mind? I can’t make heads or tails of what Willow can do, and for some reason, she won’t tell.

  I press the side of my face against the window frame so I can see to the corner where a canvas tent has been hastily constructed. Troopers corral a handful of people into a line, sometimes holding them by the sleeve of their shirt and shoving them forward.

  A young man who can’t be much older than me bolts out of the tent, panic written all over his expression. He stumbles, almost running on all fours in an attempt to escape. Without hesitation, one of the troopers raises his gun and shoots. The bang of the gun makes everyone on the street duck for cover.

  “No.” I press a hand against the pane.

  Two troopers grab the boy and haul him to his feet. His body is slumped, head hanging as they drag him toward a shuttle. He isn’t dead. His chest still rises and falls. Where are they taking him? But I have my suspicions. Either Paragon or to do whatever the DMA wants to do to these regressing citizens.

  A young woman runs out into the street after them. “Gerry! Stop!” She grabs one of the troopers and he shrugs her off as others surround her, pointing their guns in her face, forcing her to her knees.

  “What is going on out there?” I barely breathe out the words. Something has to be done. What if they find us?

  “Ugene, you need to calm down,” Willow says, putting a hand on my back as I press my hands against my head.

  My tightly coiled muscles relax, and I back away from the window, sinking into one of the vacant barber chairs. Rosie, Noah, and Sho have crowded the window to see what’s going on.

  “I warned you about attracting DMA attention,” Willow says. “The Directorate has been pinching people with weak Powers into a vice grip, squeezing some out. Pax gets the worst of it.”

  I shake my head. How can the Directorate do this? They don’t have the right to steal away the chance at a good life from anyone. “Someone needs to stop this.”

  “What do you think we’ve been trying to do?” Willow asks.

  I take a breath to steady myself. Things are starting to click into place like the picture is becoming clear. Consumption Taxation hurts people with weaker Powers, and Proposition 8.5 forces those people to undergo further testing. But the testing isn’t for a regression cure.

  Willow’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Ugene, if you would just—”

  “Let me think!” I lean forward in the chair.

  “That’s his thinking face,” Enid says flatly from across the barbershop. “Give him a minute.”

  Doc and Willow were certain that Dr. Cass would find a way to create Superpowers if she had me in her possession. But even though she lost me—and probably needs me back for more samples—she doesn’t need me to get things started if she’s already figured it out. And if Doc has learned about what my DNA has to offer, then Dr. Cass certainly has.

  “Found it,” Leo says, “but it isn’t good. The tracking is in her head. Can we do anything about that?”

  Implanting tracking in the brain makes it nearly impossible to remove without causing serious damage. But nearly impossible isn’t impossible.

  “I can deactivate it for now,” Bri says. “But my Power won’t keep it off forever. She needs the tracker removed.”

  “Do it,” Willow says.

  Bri places her hands against Bianca’s head and closes her eyes.

  “If she comes to, we will have a hard time containing her,” Chase says. “That girl is scary strong. I’ve never fought anything like it before. And nothing seemed to slow her down.”

  Stronger…

  Terry had stronger Powers last night. Different Powers.

  Purification Project. The DMA is pinching out the weak or recruiting them into service with the promise of a booster, with Paragon’s help. And my DNA. Creating Superpowers. Making some people stronger. People like—Bianca…

  “She’s enhanced,” I say.

  Willow turns to me, cocking her head to the side. “What?”

  “You said Dr. Cass just needed the right samples to create a sort of super-serum, right?” I start pacing again, unsure of when I stood from the stool.

  “Here he goes,” Enid says, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed.

  “Dr. Cass had them already. Not much, but they took samples weekly while I was there. Some of it was probably used up in testing—which is on the videos we saw before with Jade and Vicki and…Terry.” Has Terry been Super all this time? I shake my head. “Anyway. They push down the weak, then force them into Paragon’s testing so they have bodies to find out how effective their serum is. And it fails. A lot. But then it doesn’t. Now they have the formula to create more Supers and use the Tax and Proposition as excuses to force people to join the DMA.”

  Willow perks up. “Okay, but to what end? This force can’t just be to sniff out our resistance. Directorate Chief Seaduss is very meticulous. Getting rid of us is probably just a small part of a much larger plan.”

  I stop, turning to face her. “I was hoping you could fill in that part. Maybe this is their way to stop regression like he promised he would do when he took office.”

  “And he hasn’t.” Willow nods.

  “Right. Instead, he turns the weak into expendable supersoldiers to find the Protectorate, secure the rampant crime in these boroughs, and dispose of those who pose a threat. It ensures their control with an iron fist, and if it works, no one else will ever stand up to them. Why would they?”

  “But they would need you to do it,” Willow says.

  “Would they? Sure, having me might make the job easier, add a sense of security to their plan, but Dr. Cass doesn’t need me to replicate DNA artificially. She has a whole building full of labs and scientists to do it for her.”

  The two of us just stare at each other, and I can see her processing everything I’ve just dumped out.

  “Where does he get this stuff?” Jayme asks.

  Willow gapes at me. “He might be right.”

  “Not to make matters worse, but they have a Bloodhou
nd,” I say. “A guy. I didn’t get a look at him, but he has a deep voice.”

  Willow freezes. Chase shoots his attention my way. Jayme stiffens as he leans against one of the stations behind Miller’s chair.

  “Are you sure?” Willow asks.

  “Not completely, but judging by what he said, pretty much.” I take in the three of them and notice Lily has gone significantly pale. “We’ve gotten this far.”

  “Bloodhounds never lose their prey,” Willow says. “Do I even want to know who he was tracking?”

  I shrug. “Could have been any of us.” But judging by his conversation, he was after me.

  “We can’t stay here. We have to move,” Chase says.

  “Are you done, Bri?” Willow asks, moving with urgency toward Bri still working on Bianca’s tracker.

  “Done,” Bri says.

  “Good.” Willow finally tears herself away and catches Chase’s attention. “We need to move now. The Bloodhound is probably already closing in on us. I can block Telepaths, but I can’t block that.”

  Chase nods then moves to pick up Bianca.

  Willow taps a message on her watch, then grabs Chase’s arm. “Miller and Leo can carry her together. We need all our fighters ready.”

  “Down?” Chase asks.

  Willow nods. “Down.”

  I frown and begin to ask what that means, but Willow already ushers all of us through the back door and into the alley, where Chase easily hefts off a manhole cover.

  Then, it becomes clear.

  Down.

  26

  Miller and Sho climb into the sewer first, followed closely by Jayme. In less than a minute, only five of us remain above ground. Chase pulls out a set of clips with a long, thin cable from a pocket in his vest, getting assistance from Willow and Enid to strap in Bianca so they can lower her down.

  I make my way along the wall of the building toward the mouth of the alley. Using a dumpster for cover, I peek out at the street. I know Willow wants us to get back to The Shield, but the image of that trooper shooting that young man haunts me.

  From here, it’s much easier to see the canvas tent set up on the corner. A DMA shuttle waits idly beside the tent.

  The line of people outside the tent spans generations, from infants in their mother’s or father’s arms to elderly people who struggle to stay upright as they wait. One of the old men reaches for a trooper as he passes, pleading with him. I can’t hear what he says, but the trooper stops, looks the man over, and pulls out a handheld body scanner. The old man shrinks back and stumbles into the woman in line behind him, but there is no escape.

  A blue beam emits from the scanner as the trooper presses the old man’s hand against it. In seconds, the old man is yanked from the line and thrust toward the shuttle. He tries to pull away but is too weak against the trooper. The old man practically falls into the back of the shuttle. The trooper gives him a shove and slams the door in the old man’s face.

  Everyone else in line instantly turns their attention to their feet, waiting for their turn to be deemed worthy of a DMA uniform. No one moves to help. No one rises up against the dozens of DMA troopers patrolling the street. These people just accept there is no other option. They’re beaten down.

  My fingers search the front of my vest before realizing Forrest took it away. I wish I could disrupt the line, throw in a smoke bomb, stop the abuse of power. Again, I find myself helplessly watching the horror unfold.

  Willow joins me, drawing my attention back to the alley. Only she and Chase remain. Everyone else is below.

  “We have to help them,” I whisper, hoping she can hear the urgency in my voice.

  “We are helping them.”

  “No. Now. Not later.”

  The announcement continues, attracting my focus onto the street.

  A girl about ten years old walks away from the tent on the opposite side of the street with her father’s hand gripping hers tightly. Her gaze turns toward the alley and locks on to me. She doesn’t say anything or tug on her dad’s hand, but simply watches as he pulls her along with him, trying to get out of the street.

  “You!” A DMA trooper stops them, blocking their path.

  I fear what comes next. “Willow.” My hand falls on her arm. “Please. Do something.”

  The father resists as the trooper grabs his arm and pulls him toward the tent. The girl screams and cries as her father is ripped away from her hands. He calls out to her, reaching desperately as he is forced away. Tears roll down her cheeks.

  “Run!” the father yells.

  But she’s frozen in place as her father is dragged away to the tent.

  I can’t watch it anymore.

  Before Willow can stop me, I pull one of the smoke bombs from her vest and slip my finger through the pin. It’s enough to cause a distraction and maybe some of these people can escape. Maybe that father can flee with his daughter.

  Willow grabs my wrist. “How good is your aim?”

  I shrug. I’ve never had to find out before.

  “You’re rubbing off on me.” Willow takes the smoke bomb from me as she releases another from her vest. “Join the others now. Don’t wait. Just go.”

  I gulp and shake my head, but it’s too late. Willow has pulled a pin and launched one toward the tent with a throw that would impress an adept Somatic.

  One of the troopers turns our way, and I immediately recognize his face. Panic rises in my throat. Jimmy the Idiot—my old high school bully and nemesis—is in the DMA. Does he see me?

  Willow launches another smoke bomb as I take off to the open manhole then hustle down as the bomb goes off in the street. Screams give away the chaos that surely has broken out above.

  My shoes splash in the water lining the bottom of the sewage pipe.

  Jimmy. Is he enhanced like Bianca? I thought he would be working in a lab. The sound of his deep voice taunting me as he used his Hematology Power on me to watch me squirm floods my mind. The intensity of the pain. The dizziness. The deep voice… No.

  Jimmy is the Bloodhound.

  Can this nightmare get any worse?

  “Ugene, you okay?” Noah asks, putting a hand on my shoulder.

  I lean forward, hands on my knees, sucking in breaths that taste like sewage, and shake my head.

  Rosie rushes over, sloshing water around our feet, and puts her hand on my chest. “He isn’t injured.”

  “Jimmy,” I say.

  “What?” Enid scrunches her face, glancing at the others.

  I look up at Leo. “Jimmy Richmond. He’s DMA.”

  Leo pales. He probably knows Jimmy almost as well as I do. “We need to move,” he says.

  I nod.

  “What’s the big deal?” Jayme asks, waving us along the sewer.

  “Jimmy Richmond was a douchebag in high school,” Leo explains as he shifts Bianca’s arm over his shoulder and Miller does the same to support her weight. “Nothing good can come of him being DMA.”

  I follow the three of them, watching Bianca’s boots trail along in the water behind her. “It’s worse,” I say. “I think he’s the Bloodhound.”

  “Where are Willow and Chase?” Jayme asks.

  “Coming,” I say. “She said not to wait.”

  “Forgive me if I don’t believe you,” Jayme says, turning back to the manhole and gazing up through the opening.

  Miller reaches out and grabs Jayme’s arm, yanking him back and nearly dropping Bianca. “He wouldn’t lie.”

  Jayme scowls and jerks his arm away, then glares at me. “Fine. Noah and Sho take the lead. Sho, use your Echolocation to find this exit.” He pulls off his watch and hands it over. “Enid, you take rearguard with me. Everyone else in the center.”

  Everyone scrambles into position. I move toward the back, but Jayme shoves me forward.

  “No. Middle of the pack. Now.”

  I do as Jayme commands.

  The thunderous rumble of Power use above vibrates off the concrete walls around us. I cover my ear
s as we round a corner. My socks are soaked, and my feet slip in my shoes as the fabric squishes and shifts with each step. The stench of sewage seems stronger than before, and I struggle to avoid gagging on it.

  A splash and crash echo from the tunnel we just vacated. Even over the sloshing of our own feet in the shallow waters, I can hear at least one other person approaching the rear of the group. Please don’t be Jimmy.

  I glance over my shoulder. Enid and Jayme are progressing slower, walking backward with their hands ready to attack. Except we can’t afford hesitation. Not if Jimmy is following.

  “Turnip!” the familiar voice calls from around the corner.

  Jayme drops his hands and his shoulders sag. “Tulip,” he says, giving the second codeword.

  Enid also lets her hands fall, turning to face me. Our eyes meet and she freezes, then drops her gaze and steps around me, giving wide berth.

  Chase and Willow come around the corner. Willow clutches her side, her arm slung over Chase’s shoulder. They run toward us as swiftly as they can.

  “Close it!” Chase commands Jayme as they pass him.

  Jayme plants his feet and the walls of the tunnel start to vibrate and hum, then the intersection inches closed. I watch in awe. It’s far more impressive watching the concrete grow together than the root-wood barricade had been. This opening is significantly larger.

  Jayme begins to shake as all his energy channels into this impressive use of Power. Enid turns to the closing gap and attempts to help close it faster.

  “Ugene, move!” Willow snaps.

  Even injured, Willow doesn’t mess around. She grasps my t-shirt and spins me with her free hand, forcing me onward.

  Enid and Jayme rush to catch up with us, and we manage to navigate the tunnels with Sho using his Echolocation to lead the way. Rosie falls back to heal Willow’s bullet wound.

  The cold from the water slowly seeps into my bones the longer we walk. I shiver. Everyone does, but our focus is on escape. I clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering, wishing I had my jacket back from Sho.

  A few times, I step back to try and talk to Enid, but she ignores me, hastening her step or falling further back each time. I do my best not to fuss over Bianca. Miller and Leo start sagging under her weight, and Noah offers to take over. I jump forward to help. Bianca’s much heavier than she looks, because of her muscle mass.