Rebel Born (Secondborn #3)(43)

An explosion nearby brings Reykin to his knees. He shields me with his body as sand rains on his back. A second later, he’s on his feet, dragging me to mine. He yanks me away from the Spectrum soldiers pouring over the terrain.

“C’mon!” he yells.

With Reykin’s tugging hand on my wrist, I sprint after him, not knowing where he’s heading, but trusting that he has a plan. Cherno follows right behind me. Beside him, Phoenix and Daltrey keep pace. A squadron of Spectrum soldiers churns up the sand, trying to catch us. They’re gaining, fast. Their cybernetic limbs bounce off the sand, propelling them forward almost effortlessly. As they reach Daltrey, Cherno pauses. The dragon-man opens his mouth and breathes fire at the encroaching cyborgs. The exposed flesh on the closest metal-veneered soldiers ignites. The metal itself turns molten. The soldiers behind them leap through the fire onto the giant half-breed, tearing at his flesh with their extended claws.

I jerk against Reykin’s grip on my wrist. He slows and stops when I dig my heels in the sand. I tug my arm from him and raise my hands toward Cherno. I throw precise bursts of energy at the Spectrum horde, striking the soldiers piling up on my friend. They fall off him—short-circuiting and glitching—onto their backs. Cherno reels, but he catches himself and turns toward us.

My world tilts sideways again. I lose my balance. Reykin grasps my shoulders and steadies me. Cherno joins us and hauls me up with a hand beneath my armpit. “Move!” he bellows. “Crow’s here. Do you have a way off this beach?”

Panting, his gaze tense, Reykin’s eyes dart from the beach, to the cliffs, the surf, the sand, to the enemy closing in, but he pauses on Phoenix. “Maybe,” he replies with a grimace. “Get together.” He prods us into a disjointed cluster.

Another wave of soldiers gushes toward us, rushing in a weird-shaped formation. I squint against the setting sun, trying to make out what they’re carrying. My eyes widen when I realize it’s that gaudy throne, with Kipson Crow lounging on the imperial seat. He’s riding the crest of a wave of soldiers. My heart leaps into my throat.

“Reykin, hurry!” I say.

Sweat drips from Reykin’s brow. “Phoenix was a sanitation unit.” He breathes heavily. “It’s equipped to handle hazardous waste—evacuate people from hazardous environments.” He readjusts his headset and orders Phoenix to activate protocols for a toxic-environment rescue.

My iron-sided mechadome reacts by lifting its cannon-shaped arm and launching a clear, plastic-looking ball into the air. The moment the material hits the sand, it inflates in seconds, transforming into a hazmat-protection bubble that looks a lot like a giant hamster ball.

Reykin scrambles to me and shouts, “Get in!”

He shoves me as I squeeze through the slit on the side of the inflated ball. I feel trapped rather than saved once I’m inside it, but I move away from the opening so Daltrey, Cherno, and Reykin can crawl in. The bubble is so big it could probably hold a few more people.

Reykin seals the opening. “Phoenix, drag us under the water and out to sea!”

My mechadome grasps the tether of the translucent orb with its claw hand and clamps it to its torso. Once it’s secure, Phoenix hauls us toward the surf. The ball rolls—we sway on our feet and are forced to move with it or fall.

Suddenly an invisible force lifts me off my feet, as if I’m a kite, and I crash against the wall of the clear bubble. I wince in agony. It feels as if I’ll tear in two at any moment. The energy engulfing me carries with it Crow’s scent. The ball stops rolling but drags across the sand under Phoenix’s powerful hover mode. It inches off the ground, lifting like a balloon.

Cherno reaches up and with his large hand grabs my arm. He pulls me toward him so I don’t rip through the material. From the look on his face, I know the soldiers are closing in. They haven’t fired, though. Crow must believe we can’t escape.

“Resist Crow’s will,” Cherno barks at me.

Pain sears my brain. “How?” I moan.

“Fight him!” he retorts through his clenched teeth, grasping my wrist with both his hands to anchor me. I try to resist, but invisible claws dig into my brain. I bite down to keep from screaming.

The bubble elongates with my body being the opposing force, but Phoenix continues to yank me and the ball anyway. We move from the sand to the water. Waves lick the bottom of the orb. Just when I think the bubble is about to burst, my mechadome submerges and drags our enormous ball just inches beneath the waves. The water diffuses Crow’s power. Our bubble slingshots beneath the waves, and Phoenix tugs us into the deep.





Chapter 9

Rogue Wave

Everyone in the bubble loses their footing and falls onto one another.

I’m at the bottom of the pile, crushed by Cherno, Reykin, and Daltrey, until the orb shifts and I wind up on top of the pile, lying on Reykin’s chest. Water sloshes all around us. The liquid outside of our stretchy orb pushes against it as we submerge.

“What is this thing?” Cherno groans, throwing his elbow to try to right himself. It connects with Daltrey’s stomach, and the smaller man’s breath comes out in an “Oof.”

“It’s a hazmat-protection device,” Reykin says, “but they’re also a lot of fun at birthday parties and outdoor picnics. Do you like it?” He grunts. Daltrey’s foot presses on his head.