Storm

TWENTY-NINE

The ground sped by far below.

The massive Retro plane was finished with Las Vegas and was moving on, probably to Los Angeles, where it would complete its murderous sweep of that city. From there, who knew?

According to my stopwatch, only five minutes had gone by since I had set the charge to try to damage the big plane. That’s all the time it took to delete Las Vegas, and at the speed we were traveling, it would only be a few minutes before Los Angeles was in range.

“The pilot has no idea we’re here,” I whispered to Tori. “We’ll surprise him and force him to land at gunpoint.”

“What if he won’t?”

“Shoot him,” I replied. “Hit his leg or his arm or anything that’ll tell him we’re serious. You okay with that?”

“Absolutely.”

It was hard to believe we had been hardened to the point of calmly talking about shooting people, but if the choice was between winging somebody in the leg or watching as thousands of people were obliterated, it was a no-brainer.

“Ready?” I asked.

Tori took a nervous breath and nodded.

I hurried forward toward the hatch door. It was an unnerving sensation to walk across the transparent floor as the ground flew by beneath us. Once I was there, I turned back to Tori.

She raised the gun.

I reached for the handle, gave her a small nod, and yanked the door open.

I hadn’t planned on doing what I did. I was acting totally out of instinct. I started screaming wildly, hoping it would add to the shock of our arrival.

There were two pilots sitting at the wide console, not one. The cockpit was huge, with plenty of room for me to run in and target one of them. I went for the guy on the right, the copilot. With my adrenalin pumping, I was ready to grab him, yank him out of the chair, and throw him to the floor so Tori could hold the gun to his head.

I took one step inside. The copilot spun around, and I froze.

“Wha—?” he gasped with surprise.

The guy in the copilot’s seat… was Mr. Feit.

He was as stunned to see me as I was to see him, and I took advantage.

I leaped forward, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him out of his seat. Feit was bigger than me, but I had surprise on my side… and anger. I finally had my chance for revenge. Seeing him gave me the added boost of adrenalin I needed to take the guy apart.

I whipped him around and slammed his back against the rear wall of the cockpit. The force must have knocked the air out of his lungs because I heard him grunt with pain and gasp for breath. I kicked his legs out, and he went down to the deck. Hard. I quickly twisted one of his arms behind his back and pulled his hand up to his shoulder, making him squeal.

I’m ashamed to admit that I enjoyed hurting him.

No, I’m not.

Tori jumped behind me, sat on his legs, and jammed the muzzle of the Glock into his lower spine.

“One shot and you’re a cripple,” she snarled.

“Land the plane!” I ordered the pilot.

The cockpit looked more like an elaborate computer workstation than the controls of a plane. There were no mechanical toggles or switches. Instead, the console was made up of multiple touchscreens. There was a narrow windshield in front, but the line of video monitors beneath it was what gave the pilot the information he needed. There were several live views of the ground, along with multiple indicators of various functions.

There was no wheel or joystick. The pilot seemed to be guiding the plane by sliding his fingertips across a touchpad.

If there was ever a moment when I bought into Kent’s theory about the Retros being from another planet, it was then.

The pilot was the same guy we had seen running up the ramp. He didn’t look much older than me, with short military-cut hair. Both he and Feit wore gray flight suits.

His eyes were wide and frightened. He had no idea what to do.

“Sir?” he asked, near panic.

“Stay the course!” Feit bellowed.

Tori jammed the gun barrel into Feit’s back, making him grunt. “I swear I’ll do it,” she warned.

“What the hell?” Feit bellowed. “I can’t get rid of you people!”

I had my knee on Feit’s cheek, squeezing his head into the deck.

“Land the plane, Feit,” I demanded. “If you think we won’t shoot you, you are dead wrong.”

The pilot bolted out of his seat and dove at Tori.

Neither of us expected that.

Tori didn’t react in time, and it cost her. The pilot knocked her off of Feit and went for the gun. The move threw me off-balance, and that was all Feit needed to twist free and shove me back against the control console. I hit my head and saw stars but fought through it and launched myself at Feit, driving my head into his chest.

We hit the hatch, and it flew open, sending us tumbling into the cargo bay. The hinges must have been on springs because as soon as we cleared it, it slammed back shut.

A shot went off inside the cockpit. Then another.

I heard Tori yelp.

I tried to go back for the hatch, but Feit kneed me in the gut.

I doubled over as he pulled away from me and scrambled to get back to the cockpit.

Though I was hurting, I couldn’t let him get back in there. Not if Tori was hurt.

I struggled to my feet and went after him. I wrapped my arms around him and kept driving my legs forward, using his momentum and mine to drive his head into the hatch, making a sickening thud.

He was just as amped as I was and pushed off the bulkhead with his foot, sending us both backward and down to the invisible deck.

I caught a brief glimpse of the ground flashing by below. We were no longer in the desert. There were buildings down there. Many buildings. We were over civilization and headed for Los Angeles.

Feit shot an elbow backward and caught me in the temple, snapping my head back. It was all he needed to pull away from me.

But he was dazed. He couldn’t think fast, let alone move quickly. He struggled to get to his feet.

I wasn’t much better off. My ears rang, and colors swirled around me. I had to force myself to focus. If I didn’t end the fight soon, he would crush me. Any advantage I had was gone. He was an adult. A soldier. He knew how to fight. All I was was angry. If he was able to get himself together, I was done.

I spotted the jump seats. Feit was gathering himself up a few yards in front of them.

I pushed off the deck and charged him again.

This time, Feit knew I was coming and whirled around to face me. He stood up straight. Big mistake.

It was like a tackling drill I had done hundreds of times before. I got down low and led with my shoulder. I hit him square in the chest and pumped my legs, forcing him backward. Feit staggered back and landed in the jump seat.

Instantly the safety straps wrapped him up and locked him in. But he could still use his arms and legs. I couldn’t back off. I drove my forearm into his neck and held it there, jamming it against his windpipe.

My face was now inches from his. Feit’s nose was bleeding. It was probably broken. His hard breathing sent disgusting bits of blood and spit into my eyes, but I didn’t back off.

“Land this plane,” I demanded, seething. “You are not going to hit Los Angeles.”

“You can’t stop this, Tucker,” he hissed. “We’ve already won.”

“Who are you?”

Feit’s labored breathing turned into a gruesome laugh as he said, “Don’t you get it?”

“No. Explain it to me.”

“We’re you!”

His strange answer made my brain clutch for a brief instant. It was all the opening he needed to hit the release latch with his free hand to retract the straps. He shoved me, and I careened backward, fighting to keep from falling.

Feit launched out of the chair.

I got my balance and ran forward, cutting the angle to beat him to the hatch.

But he wasn’t going for the hatch.

He dropped to his knees and reached underneath the jump seats to grab something.

Whatever it was, I couldn’t let him get it, so I put on the brakes and headed his way…

…as he pulled out a black baton weapon.

He quickly turned it my way.

I froze. He had me.

Feit’s face was a mess, thanks to me. He was covered with blood from a smashed nose that was still spewing.

Through the gore, he shrugged and laughed. He always laughed.

“You know something? I don’t like you that much anymore,” he said and raised the weapon.

Boom!

The plane rocked so violently that we both fell to the deck. Boom!

We were jolted again as I saw a white flash of light through the transparent floor.

Two gray fighter jets screamed by below us.

We were under attack.

SYLO had joined the party.

Feit was disoriented. I had my chance and dove at him, grabbing the black weapon. We both had two hands on it, struggling to twist it out of the other’s control. Whoever lost would be dead.

It wasn’t going to be me.

Instead of pulling back, I pushed forward. Feit hadn’t expected that and fell onto his back. I did a somersault over his head while still clutching the baton. The weight of my body and the force from the move gave me the power to wrench the weapon from his grasp. I kept rolling, got to my feet, and spun back to face him.

Feit was still flat on his back. He was done.

I glanced quickly at the weapon, trying to figure out how to fire it. There was a button that was flush to the grip handle right where my thumb rested. I aimed the baton toward the silver canister on the far side of the cargo bay and pressed it.

There was a slight jolt as the weapon chugged in my grip, but not enough to make me lose control. The charge of energy hit the silver canister but only caused a slight dent. Whatever that thing was made of, it was strong.

More important, I knew how to use the gun.

“Get up,” I demanded as I took aim at him.

Feit slowly got to his feet.

“In there,” I said, nodding toward the cockpit. “If you so much as fart, you’re done.”

The guy was beaten. He nodded and shuffled toward the hatch with no argument.

I stole a quick glance at my watch.

In eighteen minutes the charges would explode.

I stayed close behind Feit, but not close enough for him to attack me. He pulled the hatch open, and I saw that the pilot was back in his seat. In one hand he held Tori’s pistol, aimed at something I couldn’t see. I had to believe it was Tori, and if he was aiming the gun, she was still alive.

“Put it down!” Feit ordered.

The pilot gave him a confused look. The guy was terrified. Can’t say that I blame him. We were being attacked. I wondered if the massive plane could maneuver like the smaller fighters. If not, we’d be shot out of the sky… and maybe that would be a good thing.

My question became irrelevant when two black Retro jets flashed by beneath us. The attack had become a dogfight. More black jets arrived to protect the mother ship as even more SYLO fighters arrived. The two sets of planes screamed past and around each other in a confused aerial ballet.

The SYLO fighters fired missiles, but the Retro jets blew them out of the air before they could reach their target.

Us.

“Sit down,” I ordered Feit.

I wanted him in his seat, where I could see him.

“Drop the gun,” Feit said to the pilot again.

The pilot gave me a panicked look then dropped the gun to the deck and turned his entire attention to the controls.

“I’m okay,” Tori called out.

I stepped into the cockpit and saw that she was sitting on the deck on the far side. She was alive, but she wasn’t okay. She clutched her thigh, where she had been shot. I kicked the gun across the deck to her. She gladly picked it up with her right hand while clutching her injured leg with her left.

“Seriously,” she said. “I’m okay. But I’m sick of getting shot.”

She lifted her hand from her leg to reveal a blossom of blood growing on her jeans.

The control screens were alive with the frantic sights of the dogfight. About six different cameras, as well as the long windshield in front, gave a full-circle view of the activity outside.

A SYLO jet was headed directly for us. It launched a missile and then broke off. Seconds later the missile exploded in the air. It rocked us, but that was all.

“Where did they come from?” the pilot asked, frantically glancing at Feit. He was all squirrely, as if he didn’t have much combat experience. “How could they know we were headed for Los Angeles?”

“I doubt if they do,” Feit said. “The fools probably think we’re going to attack Catalina Island. Relax, the fighters will keep them off of us.”

“Why would they think you’d attack Catalina Island?” I said.

Feit shrugged as if it was no big deal. “It’s a SYLO base, like Pemberwick Island.”

I looked down through the deck to see that we were over the ocean. Below us was a fleet of warships. I flashed back to the airand-sea battle we had gone through to escape from Pemberwick.

Tori’s theory was true. SYLO had been protecting Pemberwick Island from the Retros, just like they were now protecting Catalina.

But Feit wasn’t going after Catalina. He was headed for Los Angeles and what were probably thousands of survivors. Maybe hundreds of thousands.

I glanced at my watch. Sixteen minutes.

“Turn around,” I demanded.

Feit looked over his shoulder and gave me a hideous grin.

“We’re not landing,” he declared.

“Not here you’re not. You’re going back to Area 51. Now. Right now.”

The pilot gave a questioning glance to Feit.

“Let me see,” Feit said. “That would be… no.”

I fired the weapon at the plane’s console, blasting out two of the video monitors.

Feit and the pilot threw themselves out of their chairs for protection.

“Those jets may protect you from SYLO,” I said. “But they can’t get to me. You’ve got a choice. Turn this thing around and fly back to Area 51, or I’ll take it down right here. One way you lose this plane and die. The other way you give yourself a chance.”

“Take this down and you die too,” Feit said, though with a hint of genuine concern.

I answered by firing two more shots into the console, hoping I wasn’t hitting anything vital.

“A Retro said we primates were already dead, we just didn’t know it yet. I guess that means we have nothing to lose. If we go down, so be it, but we are not going to Los Angeles.”

I raised the baton, aiming it directly at Feit’s head.

I saw terror in his eyes.

I loved it.

“Bring us around,” Feit ordered the pilot.

“But, sir,” the pilot protested. “We’ll face court martial—”

“We’ll deal,” Feit shot back. “Bring us around.”

“Yes, sir,” the pilot said and crawled back into his seat.

After a few swipes of his finger on a screen, the plane banked hard. We were constantly being buffeted by the force of missiles that were exploding all around us. I had to have faith that the Retro fighters would continue to protect us… even though the mission had been aborted.

“I’m getting questions,” the pilot said as he touched his ear. He was being contacted by someone. “They want to know why we’re coming about.”

Feit said, “Tell them we’re having technical difficulties.” He gave me a snide smile and added, “I’d call this a technical difficulty.”

“Step on it,” I said.

“Isn’t there somewhere else you’d like to go?” Feit asked sarcastically. “The Bahamas? Paris? Sydney? You’ve got the most advanced aircraft ever created. Let’s take it for a spin.”

“Area 51 will do just fine,” I said. “Not that I don’t trust you, but you’ve got ten minutes to get us there. If we don’t make it by then…”

I raised the baton threateningly.

I felt a slight surge of power as the pilot accelerated. The ground sped by in a blur. There were fewer explosions and no jets in sight. SYLO must have thought that they had repelled the dark invader.

“Why are you here, Feit?” Tori asked. “I thought you were all about slave labor and rebuilding. Does this mean you get your hands dirty with the killing too?”

Feit didn’t answer. It was the first time that he wasn’t quick to run off at the mouth.

“I’ll take a guess,” I said. “I think you’re a bigger part of this deranged mission than you’ve let on. If you’re on the deck of this new plane, you’re not just some officer who’s carrying out orders.”

“I’m flattered,” Feit said. “Is that why you keep following me?”

“I guess it is,” I said.

“How do you feel, Tucker?” he asked, regaining some of his confidence. “Did it feel good to shatter my nose? And shoot at me? Which is better? Causing physical pain, or knowing that you outmaneuvered me this time? Does revenge feel as good as you imagined it would?”

I didn’t answer right away. Feit really was an expert on human behavior. He knew what was driving me. I wanted to give him an honest answer, but first I had to decide for myself how I actually felt.

“What do you say, dude?” Feit pressed. “Doesn’t revenge feel great?”

“No,” I said. “But it will.”

The smile fell from Feit’s face. For a change, he wasn’t laughing.

Time was running out.

I glanced down to see that we were back in the desert and flying over the desolate landscape. I noticed a few shadows streak by below us and looked to the remaining video monitors.

We were being escorted by Retro fighters.

“One minute out,” the pilot announced.

I glanced at my watch. Five minutes till the boom.

“What happens when we land?” Feit asked.

“Nothing,” I replied. “Set down in the middle of the base, and we’ll all get off.”

“And then?”

“Then Tori and I leave.”

Tori stood up and limped over to me.

“Can you walk?” I asked.

“It hurts,” she said. “But I can move.”

“You’re a lousy shot,” she said to the pilot.

The pilot ignored her.

The base appeared below us. The plane slowed and hovered above the runway, then began its descent.

“What are you going to do, Tucker?” Feit asked. “You realize there’s nowhere to hide.”

“Who said anything about hiding?” I said. “Maybe you’re the one who should be looking for cover.”

Feit laughed, but his heart wasn’t in it. He knew something was going on but had no idea what it was.

The landing tripod extended, and with a thump, the plane set down. I heard the whine of the engines as the ramp was lowered to the ground.

“Everybody out,” I said.

My heart was racing. I stole a quick look at my watch. Three minutes left.

Feit and the pilot walked ahead of us down the ramp.

I held the black weapon in one hand and had my other arm around Tori’s waist to help her walk. She was in pain, but she wouldn’t admit it. We walked down the ramp and didn’t stop, moving past Feit and the pilot.

“That’s it?” Feit asked, genuinely surprised. “You’re just going to walk off into the desert?”

“That’s it,” I said and picked up the pace. “See ya!”

“How big is this going to be?” Tori whispered to me.

“No idea.”

The pilot had set us down in the middle of a nest of idle planes. The survivors may have disabled hundreds of them, but that had barely dented the fleet. Any one of them could have come after us.

I picked up the pace, but it was hard for Tori to move any faster.

Retro fighters hovered over the giant plane like vultures.

“How much time?” she asked.

“One minute.”

I glanced back at Feit.

He stared after us, looking confused. He sensed that something was wrong, that he had missed something, but he didn’t dare come after us. He knew we’d both shoot him without a second thought.

We hurried past an endless row of Retro fighters.

“If the charge tears into the power plant,” I said, “there’s not going to be much left of that plane.”

“Or us,” Tori said nervously.

Headlights appeared in front of us, headed our way. I feared it was a Retro plane coming to life but realized it was too small… and too loud.

Tori lifted the pistol, but I put my hand on hers to push it away.

“Don’t bother,” I cautioned.

“We can’t let them recapture us,” Tori cried.

“I don’t think we have to worry about that,” I said. “Retros don’t drive dune buggies.”

Tori squinted ahead, trying to make out detail as the headlights grew closer.

“Survivors?” she asked.

The buggy sped up to us, and for a second I thought it was going to run us down, but the driver flew by and skidded to a stop, spinning the buggy until it faced back the other way.

“Kent!” Tori exclaimed.

“Need a lift?” Kent asked.

I jumped into the seat next to him and pulled Tori down on top of me.

“Drive!” I demanded.

“What?”

“Go!” Tori shouted. “Punch it! Get us out of here!”

Kent didn’t get it, but he obeyed. He jammed his foot down on the gas and launched us on our way.

I looked back to see that Feit was watching. He took a dazed step toward us. I could sense the wheels turning in his head, calculating the facts. He knew something was wrong. Suddenly, he spun around and ran back up the ramp. The pilot was right behind him.

I heard Feit scream at the pilot, “Get us out of here!”

“What’s going on?” Kent yelled above the whine of the engine. “Shut up and drive,” Tori yelled.

Twenty seconds.

The giant plane’s ramp retracted. Fifteen seconds.

The craft shuddered and rose a few feet into the air as the tripod retracted.

Ten seconds.

We reached the end of the line of Retro fighters and charged on into the desert.

“This better be good,” Tori said.

Five…

The first charge blew out the side of the plane. It was the charge that Tori had placed on the silver weapon.

Kent looked back. “What the—”

“Don’t stop!” I shouted.

The massive plane listed to the side. Its wing dipped and hit the tarmac.

The hovering Retro jets backed off.

The plane was about to crash. That’s when the second charge went off. The charge that I had attached to the engine. The impossible, singing engine that could generate so much power.

The explosion was far greater than what the C-4 was capable of. Whatever fueled that incredible engine, it was volatile. The C-4 was nothing more than a detonator. The result was as close to a nuclear explosion as I ever wanted to experience.

The plane erupted in a massive fireball of white light.

“Jeez!” Kent screamed.

The burning light was charged with its own power. As it spread, it engulfed the Retro planes that had been hovering above, causing them to explode, list, and fall to the ground. As each hit, it created its own violent eruption.

More explosions followed, joining together into a massive cloud of burning material that spread across the tarmac toward the idle fighters.

It was a domino effect. The expanding incendiary cloud engulfed each plane in turn, igniting their individual power sources along the way. It caused the destructive fireball to grow even larger and move faster. It tore across the ground, eating up the planes like a molten tsunami…

…that was headed our way.

A single fireball blasted into the sky from the center of the inferno. But rather than explode, it continued on into the air until its flame was extinguished. Or it disappeared. I couldn’t tell which. For a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a dark shadow emerge from the flame and fly off. It didn’t look like shrapnel.

“It’s getting hot,” Kent yelled.

The heat at our back was becoming unbearable. We couldn’t outrun the monstrous fireball. If it continued to expand, we’d be incinerated.

Kent gripped the wheel and kept the pedal to the floor.

The burning cloud had reached the outer ring of planes. Multiple explosions erupted, expanding the cloud into the desert.

Tori hugged me close and gripped Kent’s leg.

“We did it,” I said calmly.

I wanted that to be our last thought. We did it. We had destroyed the Retro fleet. The entire fleet.

We had our revenge.

The wall of fire ate up the ground behind us, looking for more fuel to feed on. But there was no more to be had. The flames rose into the sky in one last gasp and burned out.

“Whooo!” Kent screamed—but he didn’t let up on the gas.

Tori laughed. There was nothing funny, it was all about relief. She pulled me close and planted a solid kiss on my cheek.

“We sure as hell did it,” she said in triumph.

Kent finally slowed down and turned the buggy around so we could look back on the base, or what was left of it. The powerful fireball was gone, but in its wake it left a base that was ablaze. All of the hangar buildings were burning, lighting up the desert night. The fires silhouetted the thousands of burning wrecks of Retro fighters. I would have been surprised if any of them had been spared.

It was total annihilation.

“What the hell did you do?” Kent asked, stunned.

“I guess we put the charge in the exact right spot. Yikes.”

I looked at Tori and laughed.

“‘Yikes’ is a good word,” she said.

We watched as the multiple fires wiped out whatever was left of Area 51 and the Retro fleet.

I gave Tori a squeeze and said, “Now it feels great.”

Tori turned to look at Kent. “You came back.”

Kent didn’t respond at first. I couldn’t tell whether he was searching for a snide comeback or fighting back the urge to kill me. It turned out that he was trying to find the right words… to tell the truth.

“I saw you guys get on that plane, and then when the ramp closed—” His voice cracked as he fought to keep from crying. “And then it took off. Jeez. You were both… gone. Just like that. I didn’t know what to do. I guess it made me realize that I was on my own. It wasn’t a good feeling, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Tori said.

Kent forced a smile and said, “But then the plane came back. It came back! I had to see if you were on it. If you were okay. What else could I do? Like you said, Tucker: We’re all we’ve got.”

That was the first time I actually liked Kent Berringer.

“Thank you,” I said.

Tori gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Where’s Olivia?” she asked.

I was glad she asked. I wasn’t going to risk it.

“A few other survivors showed up once the shooting started. They took her.” He looked right at me and added, “She shouldn’t have come here.”

I didn’t want to tell him I suspected Olivia of being a Retro infiltrator. What was the point? She was dead. We would never know one way or the other. The time would come when we could talk about it, but it wasn’t then.

“I know,” was all I said.

We sat in silence for a few moments.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” Kent said as he gazed at the smoldering ruins of Area 51. “We are seriously badass.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Tori laughed too. It was a moment of pure joy and relief.

Victory had never been sweeter.

But the celebration ended quickly.

Kent’s eyes caught something and went wide. “Uh-oh,” he exclaimed.

“What?” Tori asked with surprise.

“We’re not alone.”

He pointed to the dark sky above the rise that surrounded the dry lakebed. There was a light. A moving light. Something was in the air and headed our way.