Victory: Year Four Read online

  Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 Amabel Daniels

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions

  Dedication

  In Loving Memory of

  Lucy

  Chapter One

  I can’t breathe.

  I gasped for air and it only worsened the burn. The flaming agony ripping at my lungs. Lying on my side, I grimaced at the pain and gulped in a bigger breath.

  More heat. More hell.

  No. No more. No more air.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Flynn demanded again.

  “I’m going to go find help,” Lorcan said, shoving to his feet.

  I didn’t care to get up. Lying on the motel’s hallway floor or sitting up—made no difference. Where I was didn’t matter. Nothing would until I got this damn mold, this ancient species, out of my body.

  “She kissed you,” Paige said in answer to Flynn. Her worried tone came from the other side of me. Her cool hand patted at my cheek.

  Ow.

  Despite the overwhelming fire in my lungs, I could still feel the sting of that hurt too. Stu. He’d punched me. Once? Twice? Or was that from falling into the hotel room?

  “Wha—”

  “Layla, reject it,” Sabine ordered.

  If I could have laughed, I would’ve. Why couldn’t she remember that her Impressor skills wouldn’t work on me? Still, I tried. I didn’t know how to direct my Pure energy to mold, but I wouldn’t surrender this easily.

  With my eyes closed tight, I kept my mouth shut, lest I let this awfulness spread to them.

  I envisioned death. Shoving the horrible mold spores, this dark evil, far away. Just go away. Cease—

  Fingertips jabbed at my neck. Someone was checking my pulse and it was enough to break my thoughts. Hell, I didn’t even know if my thoughts would work. How could I connect to living beings that spread by tiny dots? That grew in hot air?

  “She’s not breathing,” Flynn announced.

  Ah, it was his fingers checking for my heartbeat.

  “Layla!” Sabine’s panicked voice again. She smacked at my cheek.

  “Dammit…” I got it out on an exhale.

  Huge mistake. More air came in naturally as I inhaled.

  “You’re not—” Sabine growled. “Don’t do your…Pure power mojo thing on her. Don’t direct the mold to die. That’s what she did to you and you started to pass out.”

  I winced my eyes shut, just praying this inferno in my chest would drop down a notch. Paige’s voice came again, but not to Flynn or Sabine. A little further away.

  “She did what?” Flynn asked.

  “You breathed in the mold stuff. And you couldn’t breathe, just like she can’t now. So, I told her to get rid of the mold but her elf juju was getting rid of you. Like she was telling you to stop living.”

  “She can’t.” Flynn’s hand passed over my hair, and I cracked one eye open to a slit. His concerned face filled my view. “We can’t direct energy to other elves.”

  “Well, you were dying!” Sabine scoffed.

  “I’m alive now!”

  I let my head lie back to the carpet and watched them bickering through one eye.

  Sabine frowned at him. “Well, duh.”

  “So, what happened?” Flynn asked, exasperation lacing his tone. He returned his stare to me. “Layla, what happened?”

  I opened my mouth to speak but wracking coughs exited instead. Yeah, that’s it. Cough this crap up and out.

  “She kissed you.” Sabine’s frown morphed to an open-mouthed gasp. “It’s in her. She took it from you—”

  “Okay,” Paige cut in.

  I didn’t have the energy to roll my head the other way and see her so I watched Sabine’s reactions to whatever my friend would say.

  “We have to keep her awake,” Paige said. “Maybe we can sit her up.”

  Flynn leaned toward me and his hands stuck under my armpits. “Come on, Layla. Stay awake.”

  “You cannot let her fall asleep.” Ethel’s voice sounded so tiny, too far away from the speakerphone screen on Flynn’s phone. Paige held it up while Sabine and Flynn jostled me to slump against the hallway wall.

  “If she’s awake, her body’s energy will naturally resist the invasion.”

  Coughs cracked me in half, my chest heaving at the force.

  “Good, good,” Ethel praised from the phone. “Like that. If she’s unconscious, her defensive energy will be weak.”

  “But can she get rid of it? Kill it?” Flynn ran his hand through his hair and gripped the dark brown thickness. “Could I…kiss her and get it out of her?”

  “Then you would be like that again,” Paige said.

  “I don’t care.”

  “Well, for God’s sake. You can’t just keep swapping mold gunk back and forth to each other!” Sabine slapped her hand to her thigh as she remained crouched next to me. “This isn’t some Romeo and Juliet deal.”

  “She’s right,” Ethel said from the phone. “It wouldn’t work, not permanently. And there’s a chance you both could be infected by transferring the species. We’re in Seattle, but help is on its way from the Academy.”

  Seattle? Why was she in Seattle? Suthering, Ethel, Wolf, and Marcy had left without an explanation—other than the fact they were headed toward Nevis. So, what kind of help would be coming from the school? Bateson? Otis? I doubted Griswold would be rushing to the rescue since this was his dangerous brainchild to begin with.

  I lost focus to more violent coughs. My eyes watered so hard tears streamed down my cheeks. Tremors settled in my fisted hands as I tried to dispel this putrid mess from my lungs. And with every cough out, I couldn’t help but suck in another breath…feeding this vicious cycle.

  “She’ll be there any minute. I called as soon as I heard your first voicemail.”

  She.

  Bateson.

  I curled forward, uneasy and defenseless. Bateson didn’t strike me as a savior of any kind. Besides, she’d told Griswold she’d have nothing to do with his experiment.

  “Sabine,” a stern voice yelled from a distance. Not over the phone. I kept my eyes squinted open to see Paige held the device out, leaving the speakerphone connected.

  I pressed my lips together and tried to breathe as lightly as possible through my nose. Turning, letting gravity help roll my head to my other shoulder, I saw Bernie striding down the hall.

  “Bernie?” Sabine asked.

  This is the help?

  I’d never interacted with the plainly dressed, big-boned, rarely smiling older woman. From Sabine’s complaints, I understood she was big on rules, tight with discipline, and not very fun. Ethel had explained that the woman was the only Impressor elf at Olde Earth.

  “Let’s go.” She strode right up to us in an unwavering gait. A woman full of purpose and straight on course. I could easily see her as a successful FBI agent.

  “We’re rigging it to blow in five minutes.” She kneeled next to me and with two fingers under my chin, she tipped my head up. The dim light of the fluorescent bulb overhead was too bright in my current weak state but she pinched her thumb tighter to my skin, like perhaps she thought I was going to fall asleep.

  “Stay awake.”

  No, she wasn’t zapping her Impressor energy to me. She was simply ordering. I tried to nod, but she wouldn’t let me move. Instead, she strapped a flexible, clear, plastic mask to my face.

  Cool air teased my skin but I refused to open
my mouth.

  “Breathe it in. It might help.”

  I parted my lips and chilled air passed into my mouth. It didn’t flush out the fire in my throat and lungs, but it didn’t worsen the pain.

  “Colder air,” she said briskly as she motioned for Flynn to help me stand. “It might slow down the spread.”

  Heat. That’s right. We’d overheard Aura tell Stu that the mold would thrive in hot air. She handed off a humming plastic box to Flynn and he tucked it under his arm. He cradled it like he was carrying a football and I followed the thin tube from it to the facepiece over my mouth and nose.

  I tested another, deeper breath. Still a burning force on my right side, but not so bad on the left.

  But, how long can I get help from this little box?

  “Five minutes to what?” Paige asked from behind us.

  Flynn and Sabine assisted me in walking, one of their shoulders under my armpits. Heck. They were dragging me. But I did try to put a couple of steps down.

  “Four and a half minutes until the explosives are detonated,” Bernie explained matter-of-factly. No emotion escaped with her words. Only command.

  “Deton—” Flynn whipped around to face her. “You’re blowing this place up?”

  I pointed a finger up from my limp hand hanging over Sabine’s opposite shoulder, like suggesting we hold up on that plan. Aura had said heat would increase the mold. An explosion—fire—that’d be heat all right.

  “But won’t that make it worse?” Paige asked.

  “Is everyone out?” Sabine asked at the same time.

  “It will destroy it,” Bernie answered. “And, yes, I believe no one else is in here. I’ve ordered the employees to exit. Everyone will be out. To the left, now. Quickly.”

  We’d come to the lobby door. No one stood at the front desk check-in counter. Sabine had already dispatched the softball team who were supposed to be the unsuspecting victims of Griswold’s nasty test.

  But what about any workers? Or people on the sidewalk? Or…

  “Flynn, please order the canine to seek out any remaining humans,” Bernie said as we stepped outside into the still night.

  Before a black SUV with tinted windows stood Lancelot.

  Flynn nodded. “Oh. Right. Lancelot, find…”

  I ignored Flynn’s commands to the animal, worrying that he’d be caught in a building about to blow up. It was risky. Under four minutes? Hurry boy, hurry!

  Lancelot barked once and sprinted past us. Flynn froze, midsentence, and raised his brows at me.

  Whoops. I’d interfered with him commanding the dog. Orders from both of us had to be better than one.

  “You should be worried about yourself, you know,” he said quietly as he continued helping me toward the vehicle.

  Like I can shut off my worry for everyone else? If I could handle the air, I would’ve huffed. My worry for him was what had me in this hellish state. No. My guilt. I thought I’d been killing Flynn by trying to command the mold inside of him to die.

  “Don’t let her lie down.” Bernie’s statement broke into my thoughts before I could swirl and sink in the abyss of overanalyzing my actions. I was seventeen. A kid, still. Sue me if I wasn’t well-versed in these kinds of situations. I’d done the best I could, thinking on my feet. I’d saved Flynn, and well, someone had to save me now.

  “We’ll be back to Olde Earth as soon as we can.” Those were the last words Bernie offered us before she shut the door. Lorcan was already seated in the passenger seat up front, fiddling with a tablet.

  Through the opened screen that parted the driver’s cab and the backseat row—like a cop’s car—I heard Bernie ask, “Are they ready?”

  “Two minutes and…fifteen seconds,” the Aussie said.

  Bernie nodded once. She raised her grim-set lipped frown to us in the rearview mirror and then turned to stare out the driver’s window.

  “He’s denotating them?” Sabine asked.

  “As soon as the canine returns”—Bernie shifted the vehicle to drive, the transmission giving the seat a slight jolt—“yes.”

  “You’re letting a high school student set off a bomb?”

  Bernie raised one brow at Flynn’s outburst. “It’s hardly the most earth-shattering experience you’ve had at the Academy. I’ll be too busy driving.”

  A bark sounded outside. Lancelot barreled out of the motel’s front entrance.

  “Paige, open the door,” Bernie instructed.

  She leaned over and shoved the panel open.

  “Lancelot,” Flynn called out.

  The huge dog jumped up and into the car. Paige had hardly shut the door before Bernie slammed her foot to the gas. We shifted, bobbing to the right, left, then the right again as the stalwart woman sped down the main street of Mooresboro. At the red light, she didn’t even slow down.

  Flynn’s fingers gripped my thigh as we stared out the window, bracing for an impact of a collision.

  Only one car was perpendicular to us, and it had already stopped.

  Bernie cleared her throat and calmly instructed, “Hold on.” Then she pulled on the emergency brake, spun the wheel, and zoomed us on again.

  “Holy—” Sabine’s fingers smashed in the headrest cushion in front of her from her tight grip.

  Having executed a dangerous and illegal U-turn, we raced right back through the red-lighted intersection. That other car still sat there.

  “How…” Paige said, her stare glued on the other vehicle’s headlights as we passed.

  “Ho-ly crap.” Sabine’s words were punched with awe and a laugh. “You… You could direct them from that far away?”

  Flynn reared back in surprise. If I had the strength, I would’ve joined in his shock. Impressor skills from a block away. That was some dangerous mental warfare. A puzzle to ponder another time. Right now, I had my own internal war to survive.

  “Are they going to be back from Seattle quick enough?” Paige asked, scooting forward to speak to Bernie. “Mom and Suthering, and the others?”

  “Probably not.”

  I blinked hard and slow at Bernie’s reply. Was this defeat? How could she declare my fate so…calmly? Granted, she was probably speeding down the highway at nearly ninety miles an hour now, but what was the point? No one would be there to save me.

  The cold air eased into my mouth but not as much. I choked on air, coughing so violently I thought I’d vomit. Flynn patted at my back and Sabine held the mask securely to my face. “Easy.”

  I patted the box, that little compartment that was pumping out the cold air. Flynn noted my action and picked up the device. “The gauge reads ten minutes to go.”

  Bernie shook her head once. “It was all I could find charged in the lab. Just—”

  Sirens pierced the air. Even though I lacked the stamina to lift my head any higher and pivot to look behind us, I could make out the flashes of light in the rearview mirror.

  We’re busted!

  I was kind of surprised it’d taken troopers this long to get wind of a speeding SUV. It was late at night on this mostly empty country highway, but still, Bernie was trying out for the Indy 500 here.

  “Just try to keep her awake,” Bernie replied, unruffled.

  Paige made a whining sound. “But what about—”

  The sirens silenced. Lights stopped flashing too. Bernie had directed her Impressor energy to those cops too.

  “That’s savage!” Lorcan said from the front.

  Sabine sardonically laughed once. “Yep.”

  Savage. And scary. I was being suffocated from the inside out and I still felt more fear of Impressors than any other elves. As I debated just how dangerous the ability to bend people’s wills could be, I lost track of what the others were saying. It became harder to listen to Ethel still speaking on the phone. As I wheezed for air, tears streaming from my eyes as the cold air reduced and the searing burn increased, I couldn’t even keep track of my thoughts.

  “Layla?” Flynn asked, nudging me as he propp
ed me up, slumped against his side. “Layla, wake up.”

  “Hmmph.” I tried to speak, but even if I could have had enough force to sound out a word, the mask blocked me.

  “Stay awake.” Sabine followed up by shoving at my shoulder.

  I’m just…going…to…rest…my…eyes…

  Chapter Two

  I hovered between falling asleep and wincing in my consciousness. Bernie, I was sure, made excellent time. She had to have with the skill to drive illegally at life-threatening speeds and the power to ward off the law. Yet that little air compressor gave out at ten minutes and I struggled with everything I had to stay awake.

  When we arrived at Olde Earth, someone had to have been waiting for us. Because as soon as a blast of icy air slipped into my mouth, I inhaled greedily. Coldness soothed the burn and dampened the flames eating away at my lungs. With the drop in air temperature, I became more alert. I was inhaling through a new, bigger air unit.

  Someone must have carried me in from the car because I was no longer slouching between Flynn and Sabine. Stretched out, I was lying on a bed. Stretcher?

  I blinked some more and took stock of where I was. Flynn ran next to me. Oh. Wheels. Okay, I was on a gurney. A new, sturdier mask on my face. Opposite of Flynn was an Olde Earth medic. She glanced down at me, worry etched on her freckled face, and then she stared ahead. As she looked up, she winced.

  “Not now…” the woman muttered.

  I tried to sit up to see what had her so concerned. Perhaps annoyed? As I shifted, Flynn noticed my movement and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Take it easy.”

  “What on earth is going on here?”

  Now I winced. No wonder the medic was perturbed.

  Glorian stood in the hallway, blocking the entrance to another corridor in the medical clinic. Hands on her hips, she glowered at us. Once I was wheeled close enough, I could make out every detail of her scowl. The lines she likely hated but was too au natural to consider erasing. How her nostrils flared as she slammed her unpainted lips to a thin line. Glaring at me, then above me.

  “This is unacceptable, Gerry.”

  Gerry? Suthering was here? I turned my head, trying to get in a position to view above or behind me. How was he back from Seattle? He’d been walking in with us?