Rebel Born (Secondborn #3)(91)

I cling to the slippery stones, pushing upward and dipping down with each swell. Finding a foothold, I ease out of the water. My black, temperature-controlled wet suit and mask acclimate to the air, making me invisible to infrared and motion detectors, not to mention keeping me warm, a bonus thanks to the engineers at Salloway Munitions.

Reykin, garbed in a similar wet suit, stands beside me. I flash him the hand signal we came up with so that he knows I’ve retained control of my body. It’s a concern. I haven’t been back on terra firma since I escaped from the Sword Palace. My fear that I could be reacquired by Spectrum the moment its frequencies reached me wasn’t far-fetched. I hear the siren call of those frequencies, but I can tune them out like white noise.

A small band of elite soldiers joins us—among them Cherno and Clifton. Cherno’s discernible because of his size, even in a wet suit and full facial mask. He towers over us, staying by my side.

I kept my deal with Clifton. We met in his quarters. He didn’t believe that I could heal him by running my hands over him, but I was doing way more than that, manipulating the very particles that comprise him. He’s beginning to believe it now, though. He keeps flexing his hands, and his strength appears to be improving by the minute.

Clifton trained the squad himself. They’re well-seasoned fighters with the bonus of being immortal, so the person I’m most worried about is Reykin.

Salty air mixes with a noxious chemical scent that stings when I inhale. My adrenaline level ratchets up a few notches. Filters in my suit engage, siphoning off anything lethal, but the atmosphere practically crackles with energy. I can taste it and feel it pressing against my chest. But it’s unusually quiet. No patrols. Nothing to indicate that the island has inhabitants. I reach out with my mind and scan for life, but the hazy electricity muddles my senses.

We move across the grounds to the Tree used for research and development. Other buildings on the island manufacture VPMDs, but the one looming ahead is where I was made a Black-O.

My mind reaches out and decodes the lock on the security door. It slides open, and I don’t break stride. Inside the Tree, stillness. Containment tubes no longer gurgle with misshapen creatures. Those tanks have been replaced with state-of-the-art ones. The beings inside are hard to discern at first. The growing organisms curl in on themselves, in various stages of development. The farther I walk the path between them, the more my stomach aches.

I stop at a tank a few rings in and study the small child inside. His hair is white blond, finer than corn silk, softly floating in an amniotic fluid. He appears to be around four years old. So is the one next to him, and the one next to him, and on and on. The small boys resemble youthful versions of Crow—thousands of them. A shiver slips down my spine.

“Where is everyone?” Reykin whispers in my earpiece.

“I think they’re either dead or they’ve been moved off-world,” I reply.

This facility appears fully automated. Sophisticated machines tend to the living organisms. As I move, the electricity in the air grows more saturated. I follow it, looking for its source. The path ends at the security entrance leading to the underground Census bunker. I signal to my team, indicating my intentions to enter.

Reykin’s arm extends to me and touches my side. His voice in my earpiece whispers, “No stairs. They’ve been filled in. Do we proceed?”

“We don’t have a choice,” I reply softly. “What we came for is down there. I can feel it.”

“I don’t like it,” Clifton chimes in. “It feels like a trap.”

He’s right, but I need to get inside Spectrum. “It’s what we came here to do, Clifton. I can go alone from here.”

“I’m coming with you,” Reykin answers without hesitation.

“You and you,” Clifton says, pointing at a couple of soldiers, “stay here.” That leaves eight of us to continue.

Reykin nods, slips ahead of me, and inspects an elevator car before allowing me to enter it. The rest follow us inside. Cherno has to duck when he steps in. Silence punctuates our descent through the island’s gray rock, until Reykin says, “My vision wear isn’t working. Can anyone else see?”

“Negative,” Clifton responds.

“I see fine,” Cherno states.

“I do, too,” I reply. “Energy’s thick down here. It might be disrupting your tech. Those who can’t see should head back to the surface.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Reykin replies.

I take his hand and squeeze it. “You can stay with me until I find Spectrum. Then Cherno and Clifton can help you back.”

“I said I’m not leaving you.”

The elevator slows to a stop. The doors slide open. More darkness. We step off the lift. “What do we do, Clifton?” the tallest soldier asks. “I can’t see past my nose.”

“You’re doing better than me,” Clifton replies. “I can’t see my nose.”

The soldier reaches for his mask and pulls it away from his face. Instantly, several black orbs drop from slots in the ceiling. The military hardware floats above us. Lethal red lasers burst forth and cut the unmasked soldier into pieces. Blood sprays on the soldiers closest to him.

“Nobody move,” I order. With my mind I seize control of the orbs and scramble their programming. They fall from the air, hit the floor, and roll off in different directions. “Okay, clear,” I whisper. But then I see movement in the long hallway up ahead. Shadowy creatures slither forward in the darkness. “Wait. Something’s here.”