Chapter 40

When Zane walked out the large swinging doors of the ancient library, a New Vancouver jet whizzed overhead, confirming Joseph's theory. The dark shadow flitted over Zane, and his skin went cold, goosebumps rising all over his skin. The plane was different from the one Zane and his friends had stolen. It was sleeker, and had a large undercarriage, presumably for carrying the optimum number of soldiers. He shivered.

The streets were silent. Everyone had left the city in an attempt to escape the havoc Wawrzynski wrought. Little did they know that the man who destroyed FEPE was storming their city at that moment, searching for his failed experiments so he could exterminate them.

London's siren pierced the delicate silence that had befallen the city. They were ancient air raid sirens, for the electronic ones had been wiped out by the EMP. They rattled cacophonously and penetrated Zane's thoughts, scrambling up his brain.

"Follow that jet," Marcus ordered, beginning to jog down the street.

"What about me?" Trip asked.

Zane looked at him. "We'll find you someplace to lie low until it's over," he said, appreciating Trip's concern for his own safety. "We kinda dragged you into this, we'll get you out."

"Are you kidding? You didn't drag me into this. You saved my life. Multiple times."

"And we've only known you a couple hours," Daisy said softly. She looked at Zane. "How sweet is that?" He rolled his eyes as she picked up speed to keep up with Marcus. She cackled, but didn't look back.

Trip, seemingly desensitized to Daisy's antics, rolled his eyes as well and began to run. Zane realized he had disregarded the bloody jean jacket, and his eco-green FEPE uniform, a simple short-sleeve shirt and khakis, was reflecting the light directly into Zane's eyes. He squinted as Trip ran away, blinking to try and shake away the bright spots behind his eyelids.

Zane turned to Jonas. "No shortcuts this time?"

"No chip," Jonas responded. "And nothing from there is accessible. I am now as intelligent as the average middle schooler."

"Har har," Zane said.

Everyone else had taken off running, So Zane and Jonas had to get moving if they didn't want to get left behind. Zane sped up, finding he quite enjoyed running.

More gunshots echoed, followed by cries of triumph and screams of pain. Zane cringed and unconsciously sped up even more. He couldn't stand the pain he knew was being inflicted by Wawrzynski at this moment. Not directly, but it was still the man's fault.

It took them only a couple minutes to reach the outskirts of the city. The library had been quite close to the outskirts because it was in old London. But when they saw what awaited them, Zane wished he'd stayed in the library where it was safe.

Zane would have called it a battlefield, but he believed that word required there to be two sides engaged in fighting. In the scene before him, only New Vancouver was firing their guns. They had gathered London citizens in large groups, corralled in by the deadly weapons. Zane saw old people, young people, people with children tucked into the crooks of their arms. It was a horrible sight to see them treated like livestock, like they were less than they really were.

Wawrzynski had clearly made an effort to make his soldiers seem indistinguishable. They wore simple navy blue gear, complete with the Kevlar breastplate and mesh mask Zane had seen before. But these soldiers also had leg and arm coverings. Kevlar adorned their necks as well. No patches were sown into their outfits to show their allegiance. No normal clothes were visible, and no faces were seen. They were faceless killers, faceless monsters. They were the entity of New Vancouver.

Zane found himself shivering.

He and his friends took cover behind a small building, probably a home to one of the people caged by the guns in the field before them. "Stay here," he whispered to Trip. "Don't get caught."

Mallory shifted her weight from foot to foot, nervous. Zane knew that if Mallory was agitated there was something to worry about. "Guys, there are a lot of them,"

Marcus leaned out to look. "It only looks that way because they're spread out all over the place. It's just another tactic of Wawrzynski's. There are only two jets, and they only hold about forty or fifty soldiers each."

"But we have no weapons besides these weird abilities. Some of us can't protect ourselves from bullets with them. You can't protect yourself from bullets." She fixed him with a glare.

He glared right back. "It would be stupid to attack head-on," he told them. "Even if they are far apart." He leaned back over to look out once more. "That's why we are not going to attack head-on."

"What are we supposed to do, then?" Joseph demanded.

"Take out the jets, mate," he said. "There's two of them, and a couple punches from your steel form to the control consoles will likely render them useless."

And, in that instant, when their plan was being formulated, many things happened at once.

A New Vancouver soldier fired once into a large circle of people, and a woman screamed in agony and fell to the ground. The crowd surged forward in defiance, and the soldier was overwhelmed. All across the field, the Londoners rioted, pushing back against the oppressive soldiers. Shots were fired.

The next thing that happened startled Zane even more. Doors were flung open around him and his friends, including the door of the small building they were leaning against. Battle cries echoed across the field as ragtag soldiers dressed in varying gear poured out of London and into the field, armed with guns and tasers.

And a man popped his head out the window above them and said in a cheery Russian accent, "Hello!" He dropped out of the window, landing on his feet before them, his legs bending to absorb the impact against the cobblestone street. His black hair contrasted the white shirt he was wearing and his hazel eyes scanned the eight people before him. He was quite older than them, probably in his early twenties, around Trip's age.

Trip watched in fascination as the man straightened up, tugging his shirt down from where it had ridden up. Zane almost laughed at the hilariously awed look on the man's face as he watched the stranger point to Daisy and Anastasia.

The stranger's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "Daisy?" he asked in surprise. "Anastasia?" His heavily lilted accent made it partially difficult for Zane to decipher his words. He did, however, speak english very well.

Daisy narrowed her eyes in skepticism, and then they widened in joy. "Dmitri!" she shrieked, throwing her arms around her brother's head. "What are you doing here! I thought you were still in Moscow."

Dmitri shrugged. "When you two got taken, I made it my mission to find out where you went."

"They didn't tell you?" Anastasia asked incredulously.

Her older brother smirked. "Of course not," he said. "Anyway, I searched a bunch of databases from other large cities and found that letter from New Vancouver that asked for sets of twins." He paused and scrunched his eyebrows as if trying to remember something. "I heard of some kid in prison from Rio that got sent there, so I went to Rio to try and locate her family."

Zane glanced at Mallory. She was grimacing. He wondered who all knew about her past, but if they didn't they sure did now. Marcus's hand was laid across her arm in a gesture of compassion and comfort.

Dmitri didn't notice the tension and went on. "It turns out she had no family, she was just a street kid." Zane watched as a tear tracked itself down Mallory's cheek. Daisy was also oblivious to her friend's discomfort. "But they arranged themselves into partners in crime, I guess, so I found her partner."

Mallory sprang forward. "Is she here?"

Dmitri looked startled. "Oh, you were- oh my gosh- I didn't- I'm so sorry," he stammered frantically.

"It's all right, is she here?"

"Yeah, she is. She and I co-founded Forthrite." An image hit Zane's brain. The file he'd seen in the FEPE building that was associated with New Vancouver had been labelled Forthrite. His eyes widened.

"What's Forthrite?" Anastasia asked.

Dmitri cocked his head. "I guess there's really no word for it," he theorized as gunshots rang out behind him. Zane was getting jumpy. "Maybe a rebellion, maybe an underground movement. We're just a bunch of people with relatives or friends inside New Vancouver. We want to free them. That's who's out there fighting New Vancouver."

Zane was hit with a sudden rush of emotion. Did he have relatives out here who were fighting for his safety, for his release from New Vancouver? Did Joseph? His heart warmed at the fact that all the soldiers opposing New Vancouver at that moment were fighting for the freedom of the New Vancouver citizens, who may have forgotten they even existed.

Dmitri went on. "Many of us aren't parents of people inside or anything. We're mostly siblings or cousins or even sons and daughters whose parents didn't want to take them with them."

"How did you know to come here today?" Daisy asked, her arms still wrapped around her older brother.

"We have our ways," he said. "Lately we've been recruiting more and more people who don't even have a direct relation to New Vancouver. Now that the world has succeeded in combating climate change, people want New Vancouver to open itself up. There's no need for it if the problem it was made for is solved."

Joseph looked out into the field. "There are so many of you," he said.

Dmitri addressed him solely. "Where were you sent to New Vancouver from?"

Joseph shook his head. "Jonas, Zane, and I were born there," he said, gesturing to them all in turn.

"I'm sorry,"

Marcus sighed. "We don't have time for this," he said. "People are dying because we are standing here talking. Now if you'll excuse us we have to disable those jets."

"Alone?" Dmitri asked. "You're just a bunch of kids."

Daisy released him and smiled. "We have our ways,"

"I'm trusting you,"

Zane smiled. Then he thought of something. "Hey Dmitri, I have an odd request."

"Fire away,"

"Can you take Trip somewhere safe? He's kinda here by accident."

"Sure." Dmitri flashed a toothy grin, and took Trip by the arm. "Let's go, cutie," he said, walking away. Trip smiled stupidly and walked alongside him. Zane rolled his eyes.

"So, how are we doing this?" Zane asked once Dmitri had escorted Trip away. He gazed out at the battlefield, he could call it that now, and grimaced. The fighting had intensified, and many bodies littered the ground. The citizens of London had fled back to their city and the Forthrite soldiers fought furiously against Wawrzynski's forces. They stood a very good chance, for they had more people, and the New Vancouver troops had very primal weapons.

Daisy stepped forward. "I can carry somebody light overhead," she said. "Maybe Mallory, Anastasia, or Jonas. Sorry," she said, putting out her hand placatingly in front of Jonas.

"Hey, I see that as a compliment," he said.

"Good,"

Zane furrowed his brow. "I can probably get Joseph over there," he said conspiratorially. "I just don't want to exert myself so much again, but I can get Joseph over there without the soldiers knowing." They all seemed to know what he meant, and asked no further questions. Joseph nodded, trusting him completely. Zane had kind of hoped Joseph would be at least a little skeptical.

"I can get over there by myself," Marcus said. "But that still leaves two of us over here."

Joseph cocked his head. "What if the people who stay help out the Forthrite soldiers?" he asked. "If we have Zane, Marcus, Mallory, Daisy, and I over at the jets, we'll have more than enough protection."

Jonas nodded. "Good idea," he said. "Anastasia and I can stick close together. I can deflect any bullet that comes at us. Anastasia can do her lava thing. That way we don't have to worry about anybody getting shot." He chuckled, although Zane didn't see why.

"Let's not stand here, then," Marcus said. He jumped and, while in the air, transformed. His arms and legs shortened and his nose grew while his head shrunk. His arms sagged and sprouted feathers while his feet grew claws. His bright green eyes faded to a dull bark brown color. His hair disappeared and was replaced by dark feathers.

Marcus, in eagle form, flew off toward the jets. Neither side on the battlefield paid any attention to him, which was exactly what they wanted. Daisy picked up Mallory by the shoulders and lifted slowly off the ground. She streamlined her body and the two girls flew off.

Zane turned to Joseph. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asked.

"Yes," Joseph said. "I trust you."

Zane breathed in heavily and closed his eyes. He could still see Joseph's face behind his eyes, the soft smile and the twinkle in his eye. He saw the adventurousness, the desire to see and do everything he possibly could. But he also saw the inherent nervousness that Joseph showcased often, but not as often as before.

He opened his eyes and Joseph was gone. His particles floated lazily around, free of their constraint in the form of Joseph. Zane then dissolved himself, his arms disappearing as he willed his body to deform. Within seconds, his eyes had been replaced by millions of viewpoints, his ears by millions of noise receptors.

He directed the cells over the heads of the soldiers and to the jets, following the same path Marcus and Daisy had taken. He saw the gruesome battle from too many eyes and longed to shut them permanently to avoid further horrendous sights from scarring his brain. The noises rattled in his head, the shouts for help, the cries of pain, the screams of triumph.

He was extremely relieved when he reformed himself and Joseph inside the first jet. He released a breath and Joseph almost toppled sideways. Zane caught him. "What a wild ride," the boy said, his eyes darting around to try and regain some of his former balance and dignity.

"Sorry," Zane muttered. Marcus grinned, his white teeth flashing. Daisy and Mallory were observing the control console.

When Joseph transformed his body into steel, Daisy directed him to a certain section of the dashboard. "Right there," she said, and Joseph brought his fist down. Sparks flew and little bolts of lightning launched themselves from the console, threatening to fry everything inside the jet. Everyone jumped back to avoid being burnt.

The first jet was a breeze to disable.

The second was not so easy.

They ducked out of the first jet, which was completely useless, and stepped onto the door of the second jet. Only Zane and Joseph had gotten inside the jet before the door began to close. "Hurry!" Zane urged the others, but they did not relish being crushed by a large metal door. Zane considered diving out of the jet, but Joseph appeared dead-set on disabling the jets and was not moving.

Zane watched as Daisy, Mallory, and Marcus faded from view. They were the first people he had met that hadn't been controlled by New Vancouver's lies. As much as Joseph hated to admit it, even he, rebellious, headstrong Joseph, had been and still was tangled up in those lies.

"Be careful!" Mallory yelled before the door closed her off from sight. It took Zane a moment to realize that what she said was sincere and gentle, not harsh and sarcastic and forceful like she usually spoke. He wished he could thank her, but she would no longer hear him.

Zane turned to the interior of the jet, which was lit by one fluorescent bulb attached to the ceiling that sent spiralling light across the walls. He knew something was wrong when he saw human figures, two in the cockpit pilot seats and one right in front of him.

Wawrzynski stood in the center of the jet, his fingers steepled.