The Raising (The Torch Keeper Book 3) Read online

  He nods, and we vanish into Haven’s shadows.

  EIGHTEEN

  The interior of the cryogenic capsule is so cold against my bare skin that it actually burns. The Flesher med team has shaved my entire body, except for my scalp, in order to accommodate the spider web of electrode patches connected to countless organic tubes, wriggling like worms.

  True to their word, they won’t be actually cutting into my brain, allowing me to keep my hair. Instead, the tubules are filled with multi-colored chemicals designed to be absorbed through my skin and seep directly into my blood and neuropathways. As the Fleshers explained and Digory relayed, the theory is that this combination of fluids will stimulate the hippocampus and awaken the genetically preserved memories locked deep inside me like a dormant virus.

  Considering how fast and furious my heart’s pumping, it should take hardly any time for the serum to churn its way through my arteries.

  The glow of the overhead lights hurts my eyes. I try to shift, but the capsule’s cramped, a coffin of steel and glass that barely allows for any movement. It strikes me as disturbingly appropriate that this coffin-like container may very well be Lucian Spark’s final resting place. When this is all over, who knows who, or what, will emerge from this bio-mech grave?

  The lead Flesher leans in to my capsule to adjust the slug-like conduits attached to my temples. I feel a slight prick, then a burning sensation, as their tips burrow through and mesh with my skin.

  “I don’t suppose you put something in the mix to relax me a little, huh?”

  The Flesher stares at me as if I were a bug, then disappears from view.

  I attempt to swallow a couple of times before it takes. “Didn’t think so.”

  Digory hovers into view and leans over my capsule. He’s removed his visor so we can at least make eye contact now. “We are getting ready to begin, Lucian.”

  “What’s the word on Cole? Did your hack into the security system pick up anything?”

  I’ll never get used to the way his eyes don’t blink. “Not yet. As far as we can gather, he is still in holding at the Processing Station. As soon as the procedure begins, we will set about to retrieve him.”

  I lift my hand and grip the lip of the opened tube. “You have to get him out of here, Digory. That’s the only reason I’m agreeing to do this. I never even had a chance to tell him I—” My eyes squeeze shut for a moment, then I turn to look at him again. “Whatever happens to me, make sure you get Cole back to the Brigade. My friends—Arrah, Dru, Cage— they’ll look after him for me.”

  Digory nods. “You have our promise.”

  Now I push up as much as I’m able. Digory leans in closer to help prop me up. “One last thing.”

  “Lucian, there is no time—”

  “Listen to me! If I should come out of this—if it should mess me up and I’m dangerous—promise me you’ll extract whatever information you need by whatever methods necessary, and then take me out.”

  He doesn’t even flinch. “Of course. It will be done quickly and painlessly.”

  Our hands clasp and squeeze tightly. Then his grip loosens and my fingers slide through his like the waning sands of an hourglass.

  Maybe it’s just the cocktail kicking in, but my muscles start to relax and a rare wave of serenity washes over me, filling me with warmth and a delicious tingling.

  A smile spreads across my face. Guess that Flesher slipped me something after all…

  I try to focus on Digory, but it’s difficult. I see two shapes, one with a bright smile, piercing blue eyes, sun-kissed skin, and golden hair, the other with a smooth scalp, pale skin, and frost gray eyes. Both images blur and meld into one.

  “Digory. I just wanted you to know. Whatever happens…I still…I’ll always…” everything is dark…so tiredsoverytiredjustwanttosleep…

  —falling down a dark well…spinning head over heels…

  The alley is cold and dirty. Hiding behind a dumpster…they’re gonna find me, and beat me up…Mommy and Daddy can’t help me. They’re at work. They told me to stay inside and lock the door but I didn’t listen. The rain looks so fun…splashing in all the puddles…

  They want my shoes. And my ration bar. So tired of running, being chased…

  I hold my nose against the bad smells. The shadows fall on me. So scared. It’s the three boys who’ve been chasing me. They’re so big, like giants.

  “We’re hungry, little man,” says the one with the missing front tooth.

  The other two are also barefoot and dirty. They don’t talk, just eyeing the ration bar stickin’ outta my front pocket and the new shoes Daddy made me.

  I pee my pants, and I hear that ugly sound. They’re laughing at me. Getting closer, grabbing my hair, hurting me…

  “Leave’im alone!” It’s another boy, older like them. He starts kickin’ and bitin’ and punchin’ back until the other three run away. But he’s bleeding all over.

  I’m cryin’ real hard for my mommy and daddy.

  “It’s okay, buddy boy.” He pats me on my back just like Daddy does when I’m scared of the thunder. The boy takes out a dirty rag from his pocket and smudges the cryin’ from my face. “I’ll take ya home. No one’s gonna mess with you again. Lemme show you how to do that.”

  He shows me howta make loops with my laces and tie’em up.

  “See? That’s better!” He pulls me up and outta the garbage. “Name’s Cassius. Cassius Thorn. But you can call me, Cass, got it? Not Cassie. Deal?”

  I shake his hand. “Deal! I’m Lucian. But don’t call me Lucy, ‘kay?”

  He chuckles. “How ‘bout if I call you Lucky, on accounta it’s a lucky day when you make a new friend?”

  We both chuckle, and he takes me by the hand and walks me through the dark, scary streets til I’m safe at home…

  Falling again, the well is so deep, like I’m never going to hit the bottom.

  Another time. Another place.

  Emergency sirens blare.

  On the bank of video screens, people are rushing through the streets against the backdrop of a fiery sky.

  There are others in the room with me. Watching the screens. Watching me. Waiting for my orders.

  A female aide rushes up to me. “There’s no more time. If we’re going to do it, it has to be done now.”

  I nod. I’ve already been too generous as it is.

  Another aide, younger and male, bolts from his chair. He looks very familiar to me. Where have I—? Of course he’s familiar to me. A lover? An underling?

  Both?

  “We can’t do it. There are too many of them out there. We have more than enough room to accommodate them. Leaving them out there to die is murder!”

  I stare at the screens filled with panic and chaos. “Seal the bunker.”

  There’s a loud explosion that drowns everything out.

  Then my eyes spring open, and I’m gasping for air.

  Someone—Digory is it?—is ripping off the tubes attached to my body. “The procedure is over. We have to go.”

  Sirens are blaring. Just like in…where was that? It’s gone, the elusive fragments of a bad dream, always just out of reach.

  Everything else comes rushing in like a mudslide. I spring from the pod, throwing on my clothes. “Did it work?”

  The alarms are getting louder.

  I grab Digory’s arm. “What the hell is going on?”

  Digory’s already tugging me out the door. “It is your brother.”

  A lightning bolt of pain rips through my skull, doubling me over. Digory tries to hold me up. I push away and retch my guts out into a corner. My skin feels colder than his. I swipe at my burning eyes. When the wave finally passes, I grab onto Digory’s massive thigh for support as he helps me to my feet.

  “Unfortunately, there is no time for you to recover or to determine what effect the memory stimulation had on you. Can you stand?”

  “I’m okay now,” I lie. The nausea and pain might have subsided, but I definitely
don’t feel right. No time to worry about that now. “What’s happened to Cole?”

  He readjusts his optical visor and gear to resemble the rest of the Fleshers. “Apparently, your brother feigned a seizure and took advantage of the scene to seize one of his escort’s weapons. He has broken out of the processing facility and is on the loose—along with the other detainees he managed to free.”

  Along with my shock comes a mixed sense of pride and guilt. Apparently, Cole’s not as helpless as he once was, thanks to Cassius’s indoctrination. But the loss of that innocence still cuts deep.

  “There is a full scale search underway,” Digory continues. “If they find him before we do, they will subject him to intense interrogation and discover who we are. This whole operation will have been in vain.”

  His words boost my adrenaline. “What exactly are you saying?”

  He focuses his attention on his gear. “Our window for escape is closing. The diversion created by the child may offer the perfect opportunity—”

  “Not a chance. We’re not leaving without him.” My blood’s bubbling. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that. You once sacrificed everything so that I—,” I turn away. “Would you sacrifice a member of your Hive to escape?”

  Digory doesn’t answer right away. “We are all a part of a whole. If it meant the survival of our kind, then yes.”

  My eyes narrow at the sight of this stranger. “Good thing it’s not up to you. C’mon.”

  As we creep out of the lab, he mutters, “The more we learn about the illogical behavior of your kind, the more confused it makes us.”

  The complex is a scene of pandemonium. We rush to the armory to gather some weapons. White-clad worshippers are scrambling to get out of the way of the swarming Fleshers. It reminds me of the time they pursed Digory and our fellow recruits back at Infiernos, before we ever knew what they were. Now Cypress, Gideon, and Ophelia are dead, Digory’s an honorary member of the Flesher force, and I’m—

  Who the hell knows what I am now?

  When we arrive at the armory, explosions rattle the chamber from one end to the other. Support girders come loose, toppling platforms and raining down debris.

  I shove Digory under the cover of a cargo lift. “What the hell is that all about?”

  His eyes glaze over, and he’s perfectly still. Must be receiving a data transmission of some kind. “The detonations are being caused by mining charges that were stolen from this very armory after your brother and the others made a break for it. He has to be close.”

  Another wave of pain and nausea wipes the smirk off my face. I stumble over a few supply crates, unleashing a cache of weapons and grenades. Even as I scramble to get back on my feet, it feels like my head’s about to burst open and splatter my brains across the catwalks.

  “Cole…,” I mutter through spasms. “We have…to get…”

  Digory flings my arm around his shoulder. “Your brother seems to be taking good care of himself.”

  Composing myself as best as I can, we gather as many weapons as we can carry, slinging straps of firearms over our shoulders and stuffing explosives into our pockets.

  A small, oval device, blinking red, catches my eye and I snatch it up. “What’s this?”

  Digory glances at it. “It’s one of the specially designed beacons used to guide the fuel and supply ships to Haven’s current position. Why?”

  I’m already prying the device open and hacking the broadcast frequencies to match resistance channels. Once done, I hide the unit under one of the floor grates. “It’s a long shot, but it may just guide the brigade to Haven at last, if someone doesn’t find it first. Let’s go.”

  We’re just about to cross the access bridge when Digory halts, paralyzed. “It looks like someone has found your brother first.”

  Before us, a Flesher has his pincers around Cole’s arm. He struggles, cursing and kicking his captor.

  Straton enters with a squadron. His hand is bandaged, and his face smug as he approaches Cole. “Seems our little visitor here is more valuable than I realized. I just reviewed the analysis of your identity scans, boy. According to the data, your name is Cole Spark, recently a ward of my dear friend Cassius Thorn. And brother of Lucian Spark, a young man I’m quite eager to find. You’re going to be quite valuable to me.” He pulls out a long metal prod, crackling with energy. Its glow casts crazy shadows on Cole’s anxious face. “Tell me. Where is your brother now?”

  Cole spits at him. “You’d better hope you don’t find him.”

  Straton’s grin grows wider. “I was hoping you’d say something like that.” He leans in with the prod.

  “It’s me you want, Straton. Let my brother go.”

  Straton glares at me. “This little reunion is long overdue.”

  “I’m sure you’ve been champing at the bit for the chance to cut open my brain.”

  He nods. “All you have to do is cooperate, and you’ll avoid being made to feel uncomfortable.” Straton nudges his chin in the direction of the lab. “I will have a surgical team prepped stat. Your brother will be safe.” He brings the prod close to Cole’s eye. “However, if you remain uncooperative, I can’t promise that your brother’s death will be quick and painless. As a matter of fact. I shall do my best to make sure that it won’t be.”

  I sigh. “Tell me, Straton, just how rewarding is it being another one of Thorn’s pawns? You do realize he’ll destroy you once he gets what he wants.”

  “Not if I get it first. Please, do not force my hand. We of Sanctum are a peaceful people that follow the word of the Begetter—”

  I rub my throbbing temples. “Peaceful people? Interesting. Yet you have no problem harvesting the survivors of Haven for food and genetic material to create your slave race of Fleshers, with you as their leader, of course.”

  His face flushes. “The Fleshers, as you call them, are the product of divine will.”

  “Damn you and your false gods.”

  Straton’s lips curve into a toothy grin. “I would think Queran Embers would be appreciative of such strategy.”

  Cole and I exchange a quick glance, and he nods.

  In a flash, I fling active grenades in every direction. Cole seizes the moment and thrusts the prod directly into the doctor’s eye. Straton shrieks and flings him aside.

  Digory follows my lead and tosses more grenades. Soon the entire level is a hell of deafening explosions, debris, and thick smoke.

  Despite his injury, Straton is busy barking commands. I dash toward him, ignoring the blasts all around me. I grab Straton, wrapping an arm around his neck, and pulling his head back by his white mane. A strange calm I don’t remember feeling in ages comes over me. This all feels so natural.

  “What…are…you…doing?” Straton gasps. “I’ll give you anything you want, Queran.”

  I yank Straton’s neck. There’s a loud pop. His body goes limp.

  I’m stunned as he slides from my grip and onto the floor.

  “Let’s go!” Cole shouts.

  The Fleshers advance on us. But from out of nowhere, another squadron, led by the Progenitors, appears, and the two sides begin battle. Blades buzz and whirr as the bio-mech hybrids turn on each other for the first time in their history. Sharp tools hack away at skin, appendages, spewing geysers of dark fluids every which way.

  Digory’s eyes grow wide. “It is not possible.”

  In that moment, there’s no distinction between the Fleshers and humankind.

  I truly pity them.

  Grabbing Cole’s hand, we race toward the hangar doors. “Digory! Move!”

  His footfalls are directly behind us. Once we’re through the doors, there’s nothing but a long ramp leading into the infinity of blue skies. The only vehicle left on the landing platform is a beat up all-terrain Trundler.

  A loud explosion rocks the platform. Behind us, Straton’s legions are approaching, armed with portable cannons aimed in our direction.

  We’re cut off.

  A tho
ught hits me. “Wait a minute? What hangar is this, Digory?”

  “Hangar D. But what does that—”

  “Into the Trundler,” I bark. The three of us race inside the vehicle.

  “You do realize this vehicle does not fly?” Digory asks.

  But I ignore him, trying to make sense of the control panel. “Strap yourselves in.”

  I study the dashboard. The strange symbols suddenly make perfect sense. Instinctively, my fingers fly over the buttons, entering a code on the keyboard. The vehicle’s engines rumble to life.

  Cole seems unnerved. “How did you know to do that?”

  Though he doesn’t say a word, I can tell the same question is on Digory’s face.

  “I’m not sure,” I finally say.

  Blasts rock the Trundler. Straton’s crew showers us with canon fire, cracking the windshield and putting a huge dent in the hatch.

  “Hang on.” I gun the Trundler’s engines, speeding toward the end of the runway.

  “You’re going to kill us!” Cole tries to wrest the controls from me, but Digory holds him back.

  Another blast takes out part of the runway ahead of us. I swerve and take the Trundler to maximum firepower, sailing over the edge.

  My stomach twists as we freefall in the sky. Cole’s screaming. But my instinct kicks in. I hope I was right about the command Straton gave that Flesher when we arrived.

  Toggling a switch, we’re suddenly jolted upwards, as the chutes attached to the Trundler are activated, breaking our descent.

  “Your brother knows what he is doing,” Digory says to the now silent Cole.

  As we drop, twisting and swaying to the surface far below, I wonder if it was my instinct that saved us, or someone else’s.

  NINETEEN

  The engines of the Trundler transport vehicle grind to a halt at last with a clatter of clunky metal. I’m surprised it’s made it as far as it has, considering all the damage it sustained from those cannons on Haven, not to mention the battering we took when the vehicle crash landed on the surface, despite the chutes breaking our fall.

  Outside the viewport windows, the landscape is vast and bleak. Enormous, craggy mountains fill the horizon. The sparse vegetation is dry and brown. Funnels of dust flurries sweep the countryside, tossing spinning tumbleweeds to and fro.