Nick James - Crimson rising

Cassius smiled, enjoying the panicked look in the boy’s eyes-like a cornered animal. “You know,” he started, “when I was your age we had our first parachuting trials. Back at the Lodge, with Lieutenant Henrich. I still remember the control sequence. There’s a button to seal the back end of the cruiser. Then you strap yourself in and open the ramp. When you’re ready, you let go and release your chute. Did they take you parachuting yet, kid?”

Theo’s eyes widened, lip trembling. “What are you getting at?”

“I’m just saying,” he continued. “Maybe it’s time. Except I don’t know if we have any chutes onboard. You might need to go without. We could open the hatch. There’s not a lot to grip onto, and we’re awfully high.”

Theo kept the blade in front of him. “I took down three fully grown men back there. Three times my size. I could do the same here.”

“Could you?”

Theo’s feet arched. He tensed, then lunged forward.

Cassius darted to the right, but Theo’s knife connected with his side, spilling a splotch of blood that stained the far wall. It had been too long-shackled to the wall in the Lodge, no control of his own body. He grimaced as he shifted away from the boy. Theo spun around for another attack. Fisher rushed forward, but the kid swiped at the air with the knife, keeping him at bay.

Theo turned, momentarily distracted. Taking a quick breath, Cassius seized the moment and jumped on him, twisting Theo’s right arm behind his back. The boy tried in vain to slash at his stomach. Cassius swung him around and forced him into the wall. Theo kicked at his legs, but before he can do any damage Cassius grabbed him by the hair and slammed his head into metal.

That was it. One move and Theo sunk to the floor, unconscious. His knife clattered to the ground beside him.

Silence.

Cassius gripped his wounded side. “Bandages, Fisher. Please.”

Fisher glanced around. “Where?”

“Cabinet to the right,” he pointed. “Above Avery’s head.”

Avery stood and pulled a silver first-aid kit from the overhead storage. Cassius lifted his shirt to reveal a dark-red slice mark as long as a finger. Trails of blood ran down his side and stained the waist of his trousers. It wouldn’t be the only incision today. The device in his neck needed to come out. So did Avery’s.

Fisher pulled a wad of bandages from the kit and started unwrapping them. Eva crouched beside him, still coughing from her injury. Eventually, he let her take over, which was good because she knew what she was doing.

“We’ll need a scalpel,” Cassius wheezed. “And tweezers.”

Fisher winced. “For what?”

He pointed to the back of his neck. “Madame put something inside of me. She was controlling my actions.” He motioned to Avery. “Her, too.”

Fisher turned to look at her. “That’s why you were acting so strange?”

“I’m sorry,” Avery said. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t break through. She was using me to get to you.”

“And it won’t happen again.” Cassius leaned against the wall and glanced down at Theo, who lay crumpled on his side. “If I didn’t think it’d wake him back up, I’d kick him.”

“Who is he?” Fisher crouched low and checked for extra weapons on the boy’s belt.

“One of Madame’s kids,” Cassius replied.

“Another one?”

Cassius nodded.

“What are we gonna do with him?”

“I told you,” Cassius said. “Throw him out the back.”

Eva stood. “He could be useful. Maybe he knows something we don’t.”

“He’s dangerous. He’s not what he looks like.”

“Still,” she replied. “There have got to be some sort of restraints in here. We’ll tie him to one of the seats. Hide the knife.”

Cassius sighed. “If that’s what you want to do.” He winced as pain spread through his side. “Now in that same compartment as the first aid… maybe one down… is a PSK. We’ll need that.”

Fisher backed up. “PSK?”

“Portable Surgery Kit. I can show you what to do, up to a point.” He glanced at Avery. “I hope you’re ready for a little discomfort.”

She nodded without a word.

After restraining Theo and gathering the kit, Cassius took the lead. He demonstrated the safest technique on Avery’s neck while Fisher and Eva watched. It had been a long time since his last emergency medical training module, but he’d always been a quick study. More than that, he’d had personal experience, as the scar on his wrist confirmed.

Fisher flinched as the tweezers went into the small cut Cassius made in Avery’s skin. The kit had been well stocked with vials of localized anesthesia, but that didn’t mean there’d be no pain at all.

In the end, thankfully, the device had been attached close to the surface. No need to go deep and risk brushing the spinal cord. Within a few minutes, he held the tiny chip between the tongs of the tweezers and began patching her up.

Next, it was his turn. He administered the anesthesia himself.

“It’s okay.” Eva grabbed a sterile set of tools. “I’ve got it.”

Cassius grit his teeth and closed his eyes, eager to take his mind to another place altogether.

– An hour later, the cockpit’s windshield was a floor-to-ceiling view of unencumbered sky. Cassius stood in the center of the small chamber, hands on hips. The anesthesia was beginning to wear off, but he felt alright. He’d live, and that was the most important consideration.

The door behind him opened, followed by footsteps. Another second and Fisher was standing beside him.

Cassius barely turned. “Aren’t you going to talk to your girlfriend?”

“She’s resting,” Fisher replied.

He nodded. “I can’t believe you came to Syracuse.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“… without escorts or a fleet of shuttles or anything.” He stepped toward the pilot’s seat. Fisher’s new friend was focused on the sky. All Cassius could see was the back of his head. “I can take over. Flying will give me something to do.”

The pilot turned around. It wasn’t the first time Cassius had seen his face, but free from the adrenaline and horror of the Fringe Town skirmish, it was the first time he’d looked at him properly.

Realization flooded his mind. “I don’t believe it. This is the guy from the rooftop. Last spring.”

“Ryel,” the pilot answered. “And you’re Cassius Stevenson. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Cassius sighed. “Set a southbound course down the coast.”

“Swarms?” Fisher asked.

Everyone knew that the nearer you got to the equator, the more bugs you’d find. There were parts of the Fringes that were uninhabitable down south-too hot and clogged with insects.

“They’re less likely to follow us south,” he said. “And it will give Ryel here time to tell me everything he knows.”

The air begins to darken once we cross the border into Georgia. It’s got nothing to do with the sun. It’s the swarms. We’re high enough to dodge most of them, but they’re still visible-dark blotches of prickly movement knocking against the sides of the cruiser like spitballs.

I watch Cassius’s face as Ryel recounts everything he’d told me.

Haven. Ridium. Matigo.

Despite all the crap we’ve just been through, his tone is more patient than it had been with me and Eva.

Cassius doesn’t interrupt once. That’s probably the biggest contributor to Ryel’s improved mood. He listens with a blank expression, like a soldier waiting to hear his orders.

As I stare at his face-impenetrable, hard-I wish I could be like that. This is big, emotional stuff. But from the outside, at least, Cassius is able to compartmentalize it. Instead of emotional outbursts, he sits calmly in the copilot’s chair. Even at the mention of our parents, his expression never wavers. He glances out the window at times, closes his eyes here and there, but never speaks until Ryel’s finished.