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  “Ah, but we’re not going through a check. We’re going over it. And you’re gonna distract the Institute while we do.”

  He blinks at her, thin lips parting in shock. “Over? Mercy, ya’ve gone plain cracked. How in the nuke’re ya gonna get over?”

  Snickering, she fishes the Watch communication unit he stole out of the pile and attaches it to her wrist. She’s pleased at his reaction, enjoying unsettling him for some reason. Probably because he snuck in and made her jump, if she’s being honest.

  “Well, that’s why I’m useful.” She throws his earlier words back at him with a smug grin, and fastens up the satchel. Over. They’ve never tried a telekinetic jump as high as this one will be, but with the two of them working together, she’s convinced they can get to the top of the eighty-eight-metre Wall. They’ve practiced in the Arena, and it’s something that all trainees learn – to propel yourself higher than should be possible, using your powers as a boost, shoving it out of the soles of your feet to launch you into the air.

  With the two of them combined, and the extent of Abial’s power – and Serena’s – they should be fine. Hopefully.

  Still, Leaf doesn’t need to know the details. There’s more than one way to extract information from someone, and just because he’s a Blank doesn’t mean he’d be able to stand up to torture. He’s already got a lot of information about them, and the less he knows about their abilities, the better, all things considered.

  Abial gets to her feet and cracks her neck from side to side, the sound sharp.

  Leaf winces and picks up the remaining shock pads. “Ya gonna put yer kit on, Lanky?”

  She shoots him a withering glance, then remarks casually to Serena, “How long do we have to put up with this warp for?” But she grabs the pads from his outstretched hand.

  Excited to be getting underway, Serena just laughs, and wrangles some previously invisible straps out of the side of the flat satchel, then hoists it onto her back, where it lies neatly against her spine, out of the way and high enough that it won’t block her gun hand if she needs to draw. Then she pointedly glares at Leaf until he obediently spins on his heel with a dramatic sigh, leaving her to help Abial put on the sticky-backed body armour.

  She unpeels the coating and waits as Abial strips down, then gulps. They’ve seen each other nude hundreds of times, but the huge scar covering Abial’s right upper arm and shoulder in thick, raised whorls always chills her. The melted flesh is the result of a direct hit from a zap, during an Institute raid. The day Damon was taken. She thrusts the memory away, applying the body armour inch by inch and replying to the question, even though several moments have passed.

  “Well, he’s not coming with us for this bit, but I expect we’ll keep in touch. Leaf, which part of the Wall is least heavily guarded?” The second pad, the front, is more difficult to apply, and she has to concentrate to get it to lie flat. Abial’s tall enough, of course, that they won’t have to cut it down the way she did hers.

  He scratches his chin, leaning his other hand against the wall he’s facing. “Uh, the east – not much town out there. S’desert almost immediately.”

  Serena squishes together the edges of the body armour where the pads meet down Abial’s ribcage and flank. “Right, that’s where we’ll be exiting, then. Which means we need a decent-sized explosion on the West, dig?” She pats Abial’s shoulder to let her know she’s done.

  Abial flexes and bends, then nods at Serena and starts getting her civilian kit back on.

  “Yep, I gotcha. That means yer gonna have ta get across town from the northwest, where yer target’s been dodgin’.”

  “I know. Leave that to us. You got a timepiece?” She brings up the clock on the new wrist unit and grimaces; more time has passed than she thought, and they’re going to be cutting it close to get out of sight before they lose the cover of darkness.

  “Call it an hour to get over there, maybe two to track the body down and get them out, another hour across town, and a half to be safe?” She doesn’t pause long enough for anyone to give their opinion on her time estimates. “That means we’ll be ready to go over at 0030. If you can pull off a big distraction at 0015, that should give them enough time to call all the on-duty forces in ...” She trails off, looking at his raised hand, and lifts an eyebrow. “We’re not in class, you don’t have to put your hand up.” Although I can’t say I hate it.

  He coughs, drops his hand a bit, and points to the comm he’s wearing on his wrist. “This one’s not just for show. Why don’t ya just comm me when yer ready ta rock? Wouldn’t that be easier than all this ‘set clocks ta synchronize at midnight when the crow flies east’ stuff?”

  Eech, he has a point. She blinks and rolls her eyes. “And if my comm breaks, or there’s interference, or ... alright, yeah. I’ll comm you. But, if you haven’t heard from me by midnight, blow something up anyway. Even if our mission breaks down, I like it when they have explosions to clear up. Gives them something to do. Hey, make sure it’s civilian casualty free though, aye?” If we go down, at least Dad will see we didn’t go quietly.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna get my boys ta help me run game on City Hall. We’ll take out a gatehouse or two; they’ll think they’re under full-on attack, we’re shadows in the moonlight, an’ all that. Uncatchable mischief-makers. Ya’ll get yer distraction. Ya got a map of the slums? I’ll show ya where ta head. My boy Dent and his missus’ll put ya up ‘til yer ready ta bust a move. And they’re smugglers, so no probs hiding ya.”

  Smugglers. Makes sense. Bet that’s how he knows Kion, too. I know he’s still in touch with the nomad tribes.

  “Smugglers. Great. They’ll probably make us lie under the floorboards and pretend we’re sacks of grain,” Abial mutters. “This all sounds like the best plan ever.”

  Her sarcasm makes Serena roll her eyes. And how is that attitude gonna help?

  “We ready to bounce?” She injects some false confidence into her question.

  “Not yet. I gotta beep my boys.” He starts tapping out a message at high speed, doing this – just like everything else – a little faster than seems normal.

  Then he taps his foot, pretending impatience as he waits for a reply, and grins when his comm lights up. “Nice. All ready? Reilly’s on ‘is way ta wipe the place down. He’ll move the rest of this out for ya as well.”

  Just as he says it, his wrist unit flashes again and he grins, pulling the door open a crack. A hasty exchange of muffled words is followed by a long-limbed blonde man easing his way into the room. His clothes are a mottled grey-black that makes him almost impossible to see, and he’s dripping wet. Serena gives him a quick once over, noting his athletic build, raw-boned face, and deep-set brown eyes that dart around the room. He looks like he’s seen his fair share of fights, judging by the broken nose, but there’s an intelligence in his features that makes her believe he’s not just a thug.

  He wrings his sleeves out briefly, the water pattering on the floor, and performs an elaborate bow. “Evening, ladies. I do hope this miscreant hasn’t tainted your visit to our fine city.” He mournfully squeezes out his hair, and then sighs. “Lost cause. Hope you’re prepared for a shower. S’unbelievable out there!”

  Serena smirks and moves toward the door, unable to keep the thrum of anticipation out of her voice. “Little water never hurt anyone. 'Sides, it’ll help cover us. Dig your greys, by the way.” I gotta get me some of those.

  Water drips slowly off the end of his wide nose as he flashes a broad grin in reply. “Well, good luck in your endeavours. Don’t worry about your prints. I’ll scrub the place bare.” He shrugs off a flat pack and unrolls it on the table, grabbing a small reader unit and clicking it on. The screen lights up and shows all the fingerprints and smears on the table in front of him. “And then I’ll get some third-party contractors in to touch everything a bit. Nothing more suspicious than a well-cleaned joint. Freedom go with ya!”

  Satisfied that he seems to know what he’s doing, S
erena watches interestedly as he sets to work, using a cloth to rub down the places they’ve touched. He whistles softly as he cleans, and Leaf claps him on the shoulder.

  “Later, Rei!” He sidles to the door, looks out, and grins at the girls. “Ready ta get wet?”

  Serena nods eagerly and they head into the maelstrom outside.

  THEY’RE SOAKED IMMEDIATELY, and she’s grateful for the shock pads covering her torso, as they keep her chest and back feeling dry. The rain isn’t cold, but being drenched soon loses its novelty, and the visibility is terrible. Uneasy, she flicks her eyes back and forth, tempted to use her power to read her surroundings. It’s safer to keep it shut down, though, so she curses to herself and resists. They stay close together as they traipse through the already ankle-deep flooding. I miss my boots so much. Most of the civilians are inside by now, having opened their reservoirs up and retreated into the dry. There’re still some kids playing around, and a few shifty-looking teenagers startle from a doorway as they pass, running off into the rain with dramatic splashes like hunted animals. Probably a drug deal – loser kids fed up with their cushy but boring existences.

  Brats.

  The constant noise of the rainfall steeps everything in a fuzzy-grey layer of unreality, and time seems to stretch out and drag. The muffled splashes of their own footsteps create a bizarre counterpoint, going on and on until she finds herself breathing in time with it. They pass towering buildings with elaborately sweeping designs that are now acting as water chutes, causing miniature waterfalls on almost every corner, and she notices that Leaf looks totally bedraggled; having shucked his topcoat before leaving the safe house, he’s now clad only in a thin, dirty-brown shirt that clings to his body, outlining disproportionately large chest muscles. His hair is slicked down over his forehead, and he sporadically scrapes it to one side to clear his vision.

  They start to jog, and though she's in good shape, the streaming water pulls uncomfortably at her feet, forcing her to alter her gait to relieve the pressure on her calf muscles. She hopes they won’t be out here too long, as the first twinges of a cramp are forming from the unnatural movement. The street becomes more and more uphill, until it’s hard going for all of them, and Leaf ducks into a large doorway, shuffling into the corner to make room.

  He’s gasping like a beached fish, and Serena collapses against the wall, already exhausted, working to stretch out her sore lower legs, and gritting her teeth against the ache. Shit, we’re only, what ... maybe halfway? I’m gonna have to start using my power to stop the water pressure if this keeps up, and that’s gonna drain me, fast. I gotta eat.

  As though he’s read her mind, Leaf digs around in his cargo pockets and hauls out a few foil-wrapped bars. “Snack break. This here’s hard work. Makes ya wonder about that swimmin’ stuff ya hear about sometimes.”

  They all take a bar and unwrap it, grateful for the brief respite. After a few glugs of water and a mournful look at the bleak street, Leaf jerks his head.

  “Alright then, back to it. I reckon we’ll hit the first buildin’ in about half an hour.” He sounds so morose that Serena elbows him gently and forces a grin past her own exhaustion, feeling like it’s up to her to encourage him. The last thing they need is Leaf bailing and leaving them to find their own way in this awful weather. They’d probably march right into a patrol or wander around in circles until dawn. C’mon, Leaf. Stick with us. We need you.

  “Least there’s no one on the streets, and the cams probably won’t grab us in this mess.”

  As soon as she says it, she wishes she hadn’t said anything about the cameras. The idea of the Institute watching them just makes it all that much worse. Soldiers could be converging on their position right now, and in this weather she wouldn’t know until they were on top of her.

  He rolls his eyes at her and pointedly wrings out his fringe, a river of water trickling down his neck, but despite his apparent distress, just sniffs and slides out of the doorway.

  They reluctantly follow his trudging form back into the downpour. All the water and lack of visual information is so disorientating that she’s taken completely by surprise when a Watch patrol almost runs into them at the crossroads. Her throat freezes, mouth dropping open.

  Nuke, we’ve got to get off the road. What do we do? So much for being trained soldiers. Her radar was so jammed that she didn’t even know they were coming.

  But the patrol doesn’t even hesitate, just runs right past them as they dither.

  She clears her throat, embarrassed and pathetically grateful that the soldiers were distracted enough by whatever it is they’re hunting to stamp right past.

  Abial looks like she feels about the same way, awkwardly looking down the street as she asks, “Well, we’ll probably see them again in a minute. Is there a different route we can take, Leaf?”

  There’s no answer, and Serena glances around, her breath catching. He’s nowhere in sight.

  “Leaf?” Abial repeats her call a little louder, worry colouring her tone, and he melts out of the gloom in front of them, looking sheepish. Serena releases the breath that had been caught in her throat, strangling her, and tries to quash the panic that had threatened to swamp her.

  “Yep. Sorry. Automatic response.” He points at the retreating Watch patrol. “Soldiers make me hide.” He grins lopsidedly and she goes to pat him on the shoulder, surprised by how relieved she is that he’s back.

  He shifts sideways, avoiding the contact, though, and she drops her hand after a moment and purses her lips, making a mental note that he apparently doesn’t like to be touched. Interesting.

  “Yeah, alright. Not a fighter, we got it. Anyway, alternate route?” Her tone is gruffer than she means it to be.

  “Hold it!” An authoritative voice suddenly calls from close behind them, and startled, they spin around. Shit, another soldier. Just when she thought they’d gotten away. Worse, there might be more, and they can’t afford to draw attention to themselves.

  She processes several things at once. Leaf is gone again, as though by magic, and there’s no sign of him, though it seems impossible that they wouldn’t have at least heard him splash away. Abial is poised with her hands up, ready to fight. That’s not the reaction of an innocent civilian, and Serena curses internally.

  Then something else registers. The soldier who’s standing only a couple of metres away from them is, somehow, Gav Belias. He has his zap up and pointing at them. She can barely see him in the torrential downpour, but the way he holds his body is unmistakable after the time she spent looking/not looking at him on the tube.

  Oh, nuke. We’re screwed. Does he have back up?

  She squints through the rain, torn between action and inaction. She could put him down now, hard, but if he’s got a team with him and someone radios off that there’re telekinetics in town, the Institute will be on them in minutes. Her mind runs through possibilities, even as she watches him, waiting for a movement, hoping for something to change. It feels like inertia has settled into her muscles, freezing her usually lightning-quick reactions. Fear has its fist around her spine, and she can’t force herself to move.

  “What are you doing? All Citizens were cleared from this area. Never mind. Put your hands up, you can answer some questions at the Watchhouse.” His tone is firm, hands steady, and now another soldier is blurrily visible through the rain behind him.

  Feeling Abial questing out with her power shocks her into doing the same, and she wafts out mental feelers, looking for information and preparing to attack or defend. She knows the soldiers will have zaps. If they get shot from this close, even with the vests, their insides will be minced. Thankfully, her scan lets her know that there’re only the two of them in immediate range. Not a full patrol. Either they’re catching up or scouting ahead.

  If she and Abial can take them down simultaneously, they might not get a chance to warn the rest of their pack. Then more information comes to her: The second man doesn’t have any Talent worth mentioning, but Gav Be
lias, hero of the City Watch, flinches slightly at her mental touch, implying that he has some reading ability, at least. He’s almost certainly not a telekinetic – he wouldn’t be in the Watch if he was – but if he can read, even at a low level, that might account for some of his brilliant tactical decisions and incredible reaction speed. It’s not hard to react fast when you know something is going to happen before it does ...

  She catches his intention to shoot and reacts automatically; thrusting her hand out in a psionic attack at the same moment he fires his zap. The energy blast from the gun smashes into her surge of power. The noise crashes into her eardrums at the same time the punch of the weapon hits her in the sternum, but her telekinetic push outward, combined with the shock armour, do their jobs.

  She’s not knocked over, anyway, and there’s no time to catalogue her injuries now.

  She sends her power toward him and twists his arm up before he realizes what’s happening, freezing his finger on the trigger so he can’t fire again. Even if he doesn’t hit her, the sound will bring others. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Abial physically grappling with the second soldier, and in that moment of distraction Gav Belias pulls a knife with his left hand.

  Idiot! she screams at herself. Immobilization should have been her first call, but she was flustered and winded, and only grabbed his gun hand. Now he throws so fast that it looks like chain lightening, the knife flying suddenly through the air, and she can’t move quickly enough. She throws more power out, desperate, but it’s too slow, and her telekinetic block misses the spinning blade. Fire slices into her cheek as she surges forward, Talent-slamming Gav against the wall behind him with the force of fury, fear, and pain.

  He crumples like a rag doll, and she looks to Abial, frantic. She’s breathing too fast, on the verge of hyperventilating, and can’t remember her training. What should she do? Hot blood is streaming down her cheek; she can taste the iron. No, no, no. It can’t all go to shit this fast. She claps a hand to her face and moves toward her partner, but Abial already has the man, now unconscious, in her arms, dragging him to a smaller road. Shaken and shaking, Serena half jogs back to the still form of Gav Belias and slides terror-numb hands under his armpits.