Nick James - Crimson rising

I’m too stunned to speak. Everything happens in one moment. Before I know it, someone grabs me by the wrists and throws me to the ground. I eat dirt before struggling to bring my chin up. I can’t see anything through the brown cloud that obscures the alleyway.

The air begins to clear. Avery stands beside the hotel door, away from the front steps. She stares at me with wide, pleading eyes.

A second figure approaches from beyond the doorway. I don’t recognize the shadow at first, but as soon as her face comes into view she’s unmistakable, even with a scar carved into her cheek.

Madame. She’s alive. And smiling-the kind of smile that tells me that all she needs to do is raise a finger and I’ll be dead.

Madame clears two steps down from the doorway, arms crossed. “Pull him to his feet,” she orders. “I want to see his face.”

The soldier behind me yanks my arms so hard they nearly pop out of their sockets. I wince in pain as I’m brought to a standing position. My face is covered in dirt. I taste it in my mouth, feel the sharp grit between my teeth.

“Ah.” Madame smiles. “There he is.”

I try to look around for Eva and Ryel, but the soldier’s got my face pushed forward. All I see is Madame, and Avery behind her, hunkered against the safety of the building.

I struggle against the man’s grip. “What have you done to her?”

“Never you mind.” Madame moves closer and grabs my chin, pulling up and forcing me to look at her. I spit. It lands on her cheek, just below the scar. She ignores it. “Look at you. You’re not the same boy I met in Seattle.”

I kick at her ankles, but she releases my chin and moves away before I can make contact.

She turns to Avery, grabbing her wrist. “He’s loyal. You’re a lucky girl. Come, see him. You deserve it after all you’ve been through.”

Avery resists, but Madame pulls her forward until she’s within reaching distance. My arms are twisted so tightly behind me that I don’t have a chance to move, let alone grab her hand.

“What did she do to you?” I whisper. “Did she hurt you?”

“Jesse,” Avery starts. “I don’t know what to say.”

Madame creeps up behind her. “Say what he wants to hear, darling. You know how to talk to him.”

I look past Avery, directly into Madame’s eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”

“That’a boy.” She glances skyward. “This city is filled with Unified Party Cruisers. You can’t see them from where you’re standing, but I’ve got one prepared just for you.” She lays her hand on Avery’s shoulder. “I’ll let the two of you sit together if you’d like. You can catch up.”

I notice movement behind her, another shadow in the doorway. With the last bit of leverage available, I shift an inch to the side to see Cassius standing there, expression grim.

My heart jumps at the sight of him. He’s thinner than I remember, and wears an unadorned white shirt and pants. “Cassius! Thank god. Do something!”

Madame turns to look at him, wiping what’s left of the spit on her cheek. “You’re supposed to be upstairs.”

A boy emerges from the door and speaks before Cassius has a chance. “He slipped away, Madame.” He has the voice of a child, but the swagger of a soldier. “You told me not to hurt him-”

“It’s alright, Theo,” she says. “We might as well have everyone in the same place.”

I wait for Cassius to summon a burst of fire, or at the very least tackle her to the ground. Anything to turn the tide in our favor. But all he does is stand there, looking as helpless as Avery. His eyes meet mine. “Sorry, Fisher. We can’t do anything. It took all my strength to get down the stairs.”

My mouth falls open. I turn back to Madame. “It’s a chip, isn’t it? Like last spring… like the one you put in Avery’s head.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she replies.

I’m about to respond when Ryel’s voice comes from behind me, louder and more forceful than I’ve ever heard it. “Your attention, please!”

The soldier behind me pivots, dragging my feet across the dirt until I can see Ryel. They’ve got a half-circle of guns pointed in his direction. Eva’s not too far off, threatened by a second firing squad.

Madame marches toward him. “And you would be?”

“My name is Ryel.” His voice is remarkably calm. “Let the boy go.”

Madame laughs. Then, the longer she stares at him, the realization dawns on her. “I see. You’re one of them, aren’t you? An invader.”

He swallows. His eyes lock onto hers. “Yes. And I’m asking you to release us before I’m forced to access my special abilities.”

Her eyes slit. “What special abilities?”

“I can flatten this entire battalion with a blink of my eye. I can do it standing right here, several yards from you. And you will feel the brunt of it. I can guarantee that.”

I stare at him. There’s no way he’s telling the truth. If he was that powerful, he could have escaped from Alkine’s island weeks ago.

Madame clears her throat. “You’re lying.”

“You know nothing of our people.”

“I know more than you think.” She smiles. “And you, sir, are lying.”

“Is that a chance you want to take?”

She crosses her arms and motions to a soldier beside him. The hilt of a gun slams into the side of Ryel’s head. He stays standing, though visibly disoriented.

“Yes.” Madame motions to another soldier. “This one will be worth studying. Don’t damage him more than you have to.” She turns back to me. “We hunt Pearls, Jesse, as always. The Fringes are more chaotic than ever. A war with the Skyships is inevitable. We need power.”

“You’re not gonna get it,” I reply. “I won’t let you.”

“It will not be your decision to make,” she says. “But think of it this way. At least you and Cassius will be together again. No more running. Won’t that be nice for a change?”

An explosion rattles the silence. It comes from behind us with enough force to knock me forward. The soldier releases his grip on my arms. I stumble to my knees. Bits of dirt and wood fly through the air. For a moment it’s so chaotic that I can’t tell which direction is which. A brown cloud envelopes me, thick and hot. It feels like fingernails scratching my body. Just as the echo of the blast begins to fade, a second explosion rips through the street a quarter mile to my right. Then another.

The entire city’s coming down.

With each explosion, the air becomes murkier. Soon, it’s impossible to see my own hands in front of me. Alarms wail in the distance, sounding from cruisers along neighboring streets. The clicks and hums of readied artillery join the fray, though it’s impossible to tell how near or far I am from anything. Madame yells in front of me, but can’t get all the words out before succumbing to a succession of coughs.

And then, a battle cry. A hundred voices arrive at once, shouts and yells as dark figures cut through the dust cloud in rapid snapshots. Some carry sticks. Others brandish chains or knives. One trips over my outstretched leg and slams into the dirt. I brush my hand through the air to get a better look. The stranger turns, his face obscured by an oval-shaped, translucent mask. His skin is bronzed, turned dark from Surface Tan.

Fringers.

Another explosion rattles the street. A sulfurous stench clogs the air, along with dark billows of smoke. They’re bringing down the city. TNT, or some sort of old bombing device like that.

Unified Party troops rush into action around me and try to ward off the attack. It’s still too dark to see, but covered by their masks, the Fringers have the advantage.

A hand reaches out to grab me. I recognize Madame’s polished fingernails. I push myself back and kick, connecting with her stomach. She grunts in pain as her arm gets sucked into the cloud again.