Max Collins - Before the Dawn

After these additional 640 steps and four hundred feet of climbing, even Max’s genetically superior muscles could feel the burn. She paused to lean against a wall.

Now, five hundred feet above the street, the storm still raging outside, the X5 found herself in a room so dark even she had to strain to make details out of the murk. She could see elevated booths — these would have allowed even those dining in the center of the restaurant to enjoy a magnificent view of the city — and maple paneling, accented with other light woods, giving the room a classy air and probably, during the day, a natural radiance. Although covered in dust, the seat cushions revealed their original light yellow, which would have added to the daytime brightness.

She used one gloved hand to wipe sweat off her brow, her breathing easy, regulated; she felt fine, damn near fresh, ready for a final round with that last twenty feet, to end this thing, and take down Sterling and Kafelnikov... and maybe, just maybe, Lydecker himself...

“Christ, do a sit-up once in a while, why don’t you?”

It was a youngish male voice, off to her right. Wheeling toward it, she dropped into a combat stance.

From the darkness, the voice said, “And your skills are rusty as hell... Damn, you didn’t even know I was here.”

Furious — with herself, because that voice was right — she said, “Quit the hide-and-seek, then — come on out and test my combat skills, firsthand.”

The young man stepped into the shadowy light — a figure in black, from his fatigues to the stocking cap that didn’t quite conceal the military-short brownish hair; the narrow, angular face, the green eyes, were the same, though he’d grown into quite a man. Max felt every muscle in her body go weak, and the climbing had nothing to do with it.

Seth.

Not Zack, but Seth... who had not made the escape that night, with the rest of them... was he Lydecker’s X5? Or the rebel SNN made him out to be?

Relaxing out of her combat stance, but staying alert, Max demanded, “What the hell are you doing here, Seth?”

“I’m flattered you recognize me,” he said. “Which one are you? Jondy? Max, maybe?”

“I thought you knew me...”

“Your barcode was showing, when you leaned against the wall, sis. I’m gonna say you’re Max.”

She nodded, and the wave of emotion — some sort of bittersweet warmth, at being recognized by her brother — rolled unbidden through her.

Seth’s eyes tightened and he pointed a gloved finger to the ceiling. “Do you realize what’s going on up there?”

She nodded.

He was still so serious, his face a vacant mask, his eyes empty of emotion — only Zack had had a harder game face than Seth. “That’s my last chance to get away from Manticore — forever.”

“Get away?” she asked.

“That’s right. Maybe we could go together.”

More emotion surged, but she said, tightly, “How do I know you’re not with Lydecker?”

The game face dissolved into confusion — hurt, sullen confusion. “Why the hell would you say such a thing?”

And now the accusation blurted from her: “When we ran, you didn’t go!”

A defense was blurted back: “They caught me!”

“That’s right... they dragged you back. Did you graduate with honors, bro?”

She took an ominous step toward him and he dropped into a fighting stance that mirrored her own.

But he did not attack; he said; “I escaped that same night — two of them thought they had me, but I flipped the bastards, and got out in the confusion. I’ve been running ever since, just like you must have been.”

Even as she eyed him suspiciously, she wanted with all her heart, every fiber of her being, to believe him. If she, and others, had escaped that night, why not him?

Despite the genetic tampering and military training, she had an impulse within her, an impulse that had been fed by Lucy and her mother (if not that terrible foster father) and, yes, by Moody and the Chinese Clan, who lay dead because of her. That impulse — which made her want to believe Seth more than she had ever believed anything — cried out for family, for someone like herself whom she could call sibling...

That thought was interrupted by the squeal of tires in the parking lot below — a sound that only she... or someone like her... could hear in the squall. Responding, both she and Seth went to the edge and looked down through the slanting, slashing rain. A flash of lightning aided them, turning the world white, and they both saw the black Manticore SUVs pulling in at odd angles, TAC squad pouring out.

“Lydecker,” Seth breathed.

“Damn it!” Max said, fury mingling with sorrow. “I should have known you were in his pocket!”

She spun and thrust a kick toward his chest, but he blocked it; she maintained her balance, but allowed him time to launch a flying kick of his own, which she expertly ducked...

... and then the two of them came up facing each other, in combat stance.

Seth was shaking his head, and his eyes seemed desperate. “Max, I swear — I’m not with him. I don’t know how he found us.”

Her voice dripped sarcasm: “I bet it’s a mystery.”

“Sis — we both need to get out of here.”

She jabbed at him with a left, but he leaned back, the blow glancing off his chest, and as he went backward, he grabbed her arm, using her own momentum against her, flipping her over him onto a table that smashed beneath her impact.

As she rose from the ruins, mildly stunned, he said, “We have to get the elevators up here — that’ll slow Lydecker down.”

Lightning flashed through the room, and doubt flashed through Max — maybe Seth was telling the truth, after all...

She said, pointing to the ceiling, “No, don’t do it... they’ll see the floor indicator lights upstairs!”

That would mean any advantage of surprise would be lost, where Sterling, Kafelnikov, and their small army were concerned.

But it was too late for further discussion.

Seth had already jabbed the buttons, summoning the two remaining elevators from the ground floor up to the restaurant. She could only hope that Sterling, Kafelnikov, and their buyers weren’t watching the indicator lights.

“It’s worth it,” Seth said, fiercely. “We can’t get caught by Lydecker now.”

“Or is Lydecker already in that elevator?”she said, through tight teeth.

“Damn it, sis! Grab some tables.”

“Why?”

“When that elevator comes up, we’ll block it open, and keep the cars up here... That way Lydecker and his boys’ll have to make the big climb!”

Now she was starting to believe him.

They hauled tables over, and when the bell dinged and the first elevator door opened, she paused with bated breath, waiting to see if TAC came swarming out...

... but the car was empty.

So was the second one, and they shoved tables in to wedge the elevator doors open, after which brother and sister paused to grin at each other, in a small moment of triumph.

When Seth rushed up the stairs toward the observation deck, Max hung back for a few hesitant moments. Conflicting emotions still wrestled within her; the paranoia of so many years on the run made her wonder if Seth could somehow still be working for Lydecker — could this be some sort of trap?

She didn’t lag long, though. Lydecker was down there — the blocked elevators would only delay his arrival. There was a single option left: follow Seth up to the observation deck.

Max flew up the last thirty-two stairs, burst through the door into the wind and rain on the outdoor platform.

In 1.6 seconds, Max took it all in: rain relentlessly battered the synthetic material of the steel-beamed roof of the concrete deck, which was encircled by a three-foot-high concrete wall with steel rods rising out every ten feet or so. These each contained four holes that served as eyelets for steel cables that had kept people from jumping, back when the Needle had been in business; but the cables had long ago been stolen for salvage, leaving only the low wall and the thick steel rods. Wind whipped the rain into a fury, and visibility beyond the deck itself was next to nil. The bank of three elevators came up through the middle of the Needle and opened onto the deck, in a neat row to the left of the stairway door, through which Max had emerged to see...