CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE CREATOR OF THE TOWERS

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April slumped forward, held in place by the metal cuffs that encircled her forearms and strapped her to the throne. There was a brief moment where I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. What I’d just seen. In this ethereal place, the sound of a gunshot seemed so foreign.

“Was… that supposed to happen?” I asked, turning to Clara in horror.

Her eyes were as wide as mine as she stared at the girl, shocked. Her fingers were shaking as she placed her hand on the glass. She wiped at it as if it were the image on a tv screen blurred by fingerprints. If only she could clear the smudges perhaps it would present a better picture.

“N-no,” she whispered, turning to look at the wall where we’d heard the gunshot. The doorway back out into the hall seemed ominous now. Deadly.

“What should we do?” She asked, fearfully, reality crashing down. “Oh god, in school they always s-said lock the door. Fuck. Fuck, who was up here? Rhodes. Ciara. Th-Thelma but Thelma would never…! So it must’ve been–!”

She was babbling names and I realized that she might be going into shock. Maybe I was, too. Had someone really just shot April? I couldn’t believe it, even as I watched the stain on her dress grow. It looked black in the neon green glow of this place.

As if to punctuate the audacity of the situation, another boom rocked the entire room and I had to grab hold of one of the desks to keep from falling over. Completely different, yet no less terrifying than the gunshot, this felt like a bomb had gone off. Maybe below, maybe above. I couldn’t tell for sure. For half a moment, the columns of light flickered, leaving everything in utter darkness before they relit. Dimmer, less radiant, but still the right colors. Still where they should be. Green on the left, going down. Blue on the right, returning to the sky. Rather than a pure blue beam though, there were swirls in the light, as if someone had dropped a spec of food coloring into a glass of water.

The rolling room floor was enough to shake me out of my stupor. I ran to the door and locked it, before turning and searching for anything I could use as either a hiding place or a weapon. I hoped to find a crowbar or a knife maybe but had no luck. Hiding wasn’t an option either. The desks were wide enough to fit under but they were also so shallow that doing so wouldn’t hide a mouse, let alone Clara or Me.

April. Fucking hell I’ve got to get to her!

I couldn’t help April if going to her would just get me shot though. I had to be smart. I stood behind the door, ready just in case the shooter came in.

Another gunshot echoed out from the hallway. Clara winced, whimpering as she huddled into a ball rocking back and forth in her chair. I wanted to do the same, but thoughts of April burned brighter and hotter. I had to get to her. Stop the bleeding if I could. Fucking hell, the wound looked like it had been right in her chest! People survived worse though. I knew they did!

My preparations for an intruder proved pointless as a green shell appeared suddenly, appearing like a bubble on the surface of the door, before forcibly tearing the whole thing back into the hall.

I yelped and leaped away from the splintering wood and metal. Sunsoul. That was Sunsoul used as a weapon!

The door and bits of the wall torn away with it barreled down the hallway before colliding with someone. I heard a woman shriek before she toppled to the ground a few paces down the hallway.

“Why Ciara!? You utter idiot! How much did they pay you!? How much was all our lives worth? You’ve killed us! All of us!” Came Thelma’s desperate cries. Another green light appeared about the fallen body, partially submerged into the ceiling before it solidified and pulled the metal framework down. The flimsy metal held though, stretching and warping instead of crushing the intruder like I thought it would. A hail of cheap ceiling tiles came littering down over the fallen woman instead.

As the smoke cleared, I saw that it was Thelma who’d controlled the Sunsoul, her body lit with the green glow that I was becoming all too familiar with. She’d used her power to smash our door into someone from behind, but it wasn’t enough.

The remains of Thelma’s office door sloughed off of Ciara as she stood to face the intimidating doctor. She too was enveloped in green light.

Dammit, I really wish I could use that shit right now!

Should I do something? She was facing away from me, down the hall towards Thelma. She didn’t know I was here.

I jumped, slamming my hands over my ears as the gun snapped again, the sound deafening in the confined office area. I toppled over and crashed into the chair I’d been sitting in before.

“Fuck!” I screamed in pain. I realized suddenly that I wasn’t the only one screaming. Another scientist, maybe two, were both shouting inside their own little offices. Neither of them seemed to be able to get out of their rooms, though they kept demanding to know what happened. What was going on?

I wish I knew.

My palms were on fire from catching myself poorly on the hard floor, but the fall bore unexpected fruit. A fire extinguisher was seated beneath the desk I’d nearly crushed. I grabbed it without thinking. Instinct has always guided me before. I was a runner and I was fast as shit when I needed to be. The shooter fired again, and I heard Thelma scream outside.

I stood holding the fire extinguisher only to see blue lights flickering around Clara.

Right! She can use Sunsoul!

“Clara! Can you hit her!? Hit her in the back while she’s distracted!”

“Not again. Not again, please…” she whispered. She was curled into a ball rocking back and forth as if caught in a nightmare. Blue lights kept appearing around her but they faded and dissipated into whisps long before she could do anything. She was trembling, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. I wasn’t sure if she was consciously controlling the Sunsoul at all.

“Fuuuuckkkk,” I moaned as I turned back towards the door. I didn’t think any help would be coming from her. Not now at least. I steeled myself, standing just outside the line of sight from the open door. A loud clanging sound echoed from the hallway, and I thought Thelma might be trying to attack the shooter again. I didn’t think I’d be able to get a better distraction than that.

I charged around the corner and found the shooter with her gun poised to fire at Thelma once again. It was Ciara. The cute scientist who’d joked with the doctor not ten minutes ago looked demonic now, with the green light of Sunsoul bathing her body and the gun in her hand exhaling smoke from a fresh bullet. The dust from rubble fell off her.

I didn’t hesitate. I ran at her like my life depended on it. For all I knew, it did.

She only had half a moment to turn around before I was on her. My aim was true and the fire extinguisher slammed into her head. To my shock, it bounced off rather than caving her skull in. I was 5’8” with a runner's build but this girl couldn’t be more than 5’2” and a hundred pounds sopping wet. The momentum of my swing might not have been able to dent her skull, protected as it was by her ethereal armor, but it did send her tumbling to the ground. I dropped my makeshift weapon in agony, my hands ringing as if I’d just punched a stone wall. Still, that was all the opening Thelma needed.

Spikes of green light rocketed forth from the dark-skinned doctor. The blunt impact of the door and my own strike didn’t seem to be enough to pierce the petite scientist's armor, but the spikes did. They nailed her to the ground and shattered her green barrier before digging deep into her chest. A third missed, and pierced a hole through the floor at least two feet deep. Fortunately, it wasn’t necessary. The first two were more than enough.

Ciara crumpled to the ground, dead. Dead. She was dead. It was over! She was fucking dead.

I fell onto the ground, caught myself on my burning hands, and screamed at the unexpected agony. I whimpered, cradling my shaking hands close. The pain gave me clarity though. Rather than falling into shock, my senses sharpened. April. It wasn’t over. April was still out there, sitting in that fucking chair, maybe bleeding to death while I sat here on my ass. I had to move.

“Oh god. Oh god, this can’t be happening,” Thelma moaned. She too had crumpled to the floor, weeping into her hands. I couldn’t tell if she was mourning or enraged. “Dammit. God dammit,”

“April!” I screamed at her. “Open the chair. Err– open her restraints! I’ve got to get her out of that thing!”

I was standing over Thelma, but I didn’t remember how I had gotten there. I still saw April out there, slumped forward, unmoving. That was all the motivation I needed for the pain in my hands to evaporate.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Hah… one boy. Worth it, indeed,” she breathed. “Yes. G-go. Bring her here if you can. I’ll… go. I’ll–!”

She tripped as she tried to walk to a console but a stool appeared for her to grasp onto, made of the hardened Sunsoul. She made her way to the console and I didn’t need to be told twice to go.

I opened the door and dashed out into the garden, outpacing my fastest track record at a dead sprint. April. Fucking hell, April was shot, maybe dead for this goddamn tower. No. She couldn’t be dead. I wouldn’t let myself think that.

I skipped the steps three at a time before I reached the throne. The restraints on her arms sunk back into the armrests just as I arrived and she slumped forward, but I caught her before she could fall out of the chair. I turned her over and gently leaned her back into the throne. Blood trailed down her front, but I realized that it wasn’t directly in the middle of her chest like I’d first thought. It was on her right side, so it hadn’t hit her heart. My inexpert mind told me that that was a good thing as if I had any idea how much damage the bullet had actually done.

“Bran… Brandon?” I heard her whisper. Relief flooded me. She wouldn’t be able to talk if a bullet had hit her lung, right? I didn’t know, but I took it as a good sign. Tears were blurring my vision.

“Quiet, April. Don’t speak. I–I’m gonna get you to Thelma. Sh-she healed Clara in like two days. I’m sure she can do the same for you, okay?”

April wasn’t really listening. Her eyes were rolling. She looked more pale than the dress she wore.

“It hurts, Bran…” she rasped, as I picked her up. I’d never been muscular but she seemed lighter than a feather to me now. “D-did… Did I mess up?”

“You did great. You did so fucking great, baby. Just sleep now okay? I’ll take care of you from here,” I told her as I slowly took each step down. I moved as quickly as I could without jostling her but she still winced in pain with every step I took. Once I hit the level ground, I took off back to the building at as close to a sprint as I could get. I tried to ignore the uncomfortable wet feeling beneath my right bicep.

Just sweat. That’s not blood. Not blood. Just sweat.

Rather than wait idly, I found Thelma running out to meet me. In her hand was one of those fucked up flowers, the petals looking like a cage around a bloodred bud. Even here, the red was vibrant.

“Lay her down! Yes, here!” Thelma said, pointing to the ground. “We can’t take her back in. The flow through her might be interrupted!”

“That’s what you care about right now!? Fuck the flow! She might die!” I screamed.

“Stupid boy! The flow is probably the only thing keeping her alive! Here. Lay her straight. April–! My god, she’s awake!? April. Take this,” Thelma said. Even with everything that had just happened, she still seemed composed. It seemed she’d gotten over whatever breakdown she’d had after killing her subordinate. I was grateful as she seemed more in control of the situation than I could ever be.

I laid April gently on the ground, and Thelma immediately lifted her legs. Right. They taught us that in… in fucking somewhere. Elevate the legs? Before I could think further on it, Thelma was already grasping April’s arms. She took the flower and closed April’s hands around it, resting them gently over her chest.

“We have to step away. It doesn’t look like it hit her heart but it might’ve hit a lung,” she said as she stood and beckoned me to walk away from her.

Step away? Why?

“Don’t we need to uhm… put pressure on the wound? Fuck. I… fuck!” I allowed myself to be pulled away, watching my lifelong friend laying there on the ground. Nothing changed visibly, but I’d seen first-hand what these strange flowers had done for Clara. I hoped they could do the same for April.

“She’s still awake. That’s a good sign. Let her breathe. The flower will help,” Thelma said. I thought she might be soothing me more than herself.

“What in the world is going–! My word! Thelma! What has happened!?” Came a sudden elderly voice from over by the elevator. Both of us turned to see Scarlatte herself, rushing over as quickly as her old bones would allow.

“Sabotage,” Thelma replied. Scarlatte reached us, and then made to approach April once she saw her lying on the ground, but Thelma held her back. “I gave her an Iklumary.”

“How bad. What’s the damage, and who did it?”

“It was Ciara,” Thelma said softly. “We knew there was a mole but I never thought…”

“Ciara…” Scarlatte breathed. She exhaled as if letting out bad news. “Where is she now?”

“Dead.”

“Good. The subject?”

“Alive. She was shot, but it wasn’t fatal. The tower and the Iklumary should be able to stabilize her,” Thelma said.

I was lost in their words, caught between trying to glean something useful from them and worrying about April. Why were we staying away from her? Subject? What subject?

“That won’t work. The attack was two-pronged. A bomb took out one of the regulation chambers,” Scarlatte said.

“Damn. Damn!” Thelma said. “How long for repairs?”

“Months. Months that we might not have. NASA is insisting on sending more Sunsoul users to the Array. If we don't have at least four towers running by then…” Scarlatte almost seemed like a robot, calmly exchanging facts. At least Thelma sounded human.

“April can’t be stabilized here then. What… what can we do? All our hopes were riding on this!” Thelma said. “Humanity was riding on this!”

“Don’t let your emotions get the better of you. We can figure this out. Somehow. If only they would delay the launch. Perhaps we should do a little espionage of our own. Come. We’ll talk inside.”

“W-wait! We’re just going to leave her here!?” I shouted.

As both sets of eyes turned on me, I realized I might’ve made a huge mistake. Thelma had just killed a man, while Scarlatte had casually dismissed the murder. I flinched back in fear as Thelma glared.

“Who is this?” Scarlatte asked. She raised her hand and it began to glow blue. Unlike the balls of light Clara and April had produced though, Scarlatte created a sheer blade of light that crackled.

“Brandon Meadows. A tagalong, of sorts. He’s the boy Clara gifted, and by some strange coincidence, he also knows Tellroan’s conduit personally.”

“Ah yes. I see the whitening hair. Useful. A Gifted can always be useful. Strange powers. What’s the trope? All the Other Reindeer? Yes… He’ll make an excellent scapegoat,” Scarlatte said coldly.

I blanched.

“He… did save my life. Probably April’s as well,” Thelma said as if the admission pained her. “He is also Blanche’s son.”

Scarlatte’s eyes roamed over me and I shivered. Somehow, the mention of my mother's name seemed to carry more weight than the fact that I’d saved two lives with this hard woman.

“Pity. Things would’ve been so much easier,” Scarlatte said with a shrug. “Well then, young man. Yes. We’re going to leave her there because Thelma has given her an Iklumary. Either that flower will stabilize her, or she’ll die. Either way, we’re likely all fucked.”

Her matter-of-fact tone was at odds with her words and their grim message. What exactly was she trying to say?

I ignored the fact that I’d just barely avoided being implicated in causing this whole catastrophe and decided to go for broke. “What’s… happening downstairs? With April hurt… is everyone okay?”

Scarlatte looked at me for a few moments, as if hunting for something before nodding. “Brave. Or stupid. Perhaps a little of both? Ah well. No. A few over-eager fools stepped outside the bounds of the man-made barrier the second Tellroan went live. They were horribly burnt when the whole damn thing suddenly failed. It is fortunate Violette was here. Our shield could not have helped them. It lacks the versatility of unbound Sunsoul. It’s a bit of a mad panic down there. I didn’t have the patience for it.”

I spared a glance back to April, then another for the small building where the dead saboteur was lying in a heap of broken wood.

“What… what can I do?” I asked.

Scarlatte bit her lip. She didn’t seem apprehensive, or even worried. She had a presence that was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. Coupled with her strange New Yorker accent, the woman had stormed in and taken charge of everything. Thelma clearly deferred to her, and I’d never thought Thelma would defer to anyone. Scarlatte took the whole scene in and thought for a moment before turning back to me.

“April is your friend, right?” she asked.

I blushed. “Well, we… ah…”

“Oh Lord, I do not have time for that. You keep an eye on her, from a distance. Too many people too close dilutes the effects of an Iklumary. I’m going to sort this whole mess out. Watch her. Make sure the chest still rises and falls. If it stops, come running like a bat out of hell, you straight?”

I’d never heard an old woman who… talked like this one. Her hard accent made it difficult to understand her, and she was a strange mix between sophisticated doctor and what sounded like a try-hard punk. Coupled with being eighty years old it just threw me off. It took me a few seconds to realize she was asking if I understood.

“I… y-yes. I can do that,”

“Good boy. See? I don’t know why everyone seems to say kids are so hard to deal with,” Scarlatte said to Thelma as she turned around.

They began walking back to the building, leaving me alone near April, but I was easily able to catch Scarlatte’s half of their conversation. Her voice carried throughout the chamber.

“Yes. That’s why I said we’re fucked. Half the Regulatory chamber. Someone knew where to attack. If April doesn’t make it… Sirahn, yes. That was my first guess. Their goddamn shelters. As if shelters are going to matter when we’re all baking inside the sun… What? No. No they’re still sending… Yes.”

They closed the door leaving me in the light, yet still painfully in the dark. I settled in on a nearby bench to wait for April to wake up. The Iklumary, the strange flower with its bud encased in a cage of petals, was glowing.

Does everything in this damn place have to glow?

I was starting to see spots from all the lights in this place. I sighed. I’d started the day thinking the worst that might happen is being kicked off the property by an angry security guard. Now April might be dying, Clara seemed to be reliving some sort of traumatic episode, Thelma seemed to think we were all going to die, and I didn’t think she just meant the people from West Steppe.

Baking inside the sun? What did she mean?

I sat on a bench which gave me a good view of April, tears of fear trailing down my cheeks as I crashed from the biggest adrenaline high I’d ever had. I was scared shitless. I wondered if Scarlatte knew. The job seemed so simple. Watch April. Just watch her. Make sure she kept breathing.

As my hands were trembling, I was immensely glad she hadn’t given me anything more complex than that.

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