The Esoteric Design Page 42

  Plop! Boom!

  Dovian froze, knowing the sound before he heard the horrified screams from Ivory.

  “FIONA!”

  Fiona’s thin body was penetrated in the front by a sniper’s round. Judging by the massive blood splatter on the wall behind her, it tore through her back, instantly killing her. Her lifeless body lay on the ground, her blonde hair splayed across her face. Dark crimson pooled around her, soaking into the pastel-blue of her sweater. A small hand rested outstretched in Ivory’s direction. Her locket lay open on her chest, the holographic image of her older sister flickering.

  “NO!” Ivory reached for the young girl, struggling in Troy and Aria’s grasp. “Fiona!” she painfully shrieked.

  Another blast erupted, crackling against the wall’s surface only centimeters from Ivory’s head.

  “We have to get to cover!” Troy shouted.

  Ivory struggled a second longer.

  “Dovian!” Troy shouted as he tugged on the fighting blonde’s arm.

  Dovian, eyeing the sniper on the church’s rooftop, waved a temporary spell over them, casting a bright light around their general area to prevent the shooter a view of them. He spun and tightly gripped Ivory’s shoulders.

  “Move! Now!” he ordered her.

  “Fix her, Dovian. Fix her, please!” Ivory pleaded with him.

  The words were identical, once again, to words from Dovian’s past. He struggled with the memory, gritting his teeth as he fought with the blonde.

  “I cannot. She is already gone,” he said slowly to Ivory.

  “No! She isn’t!” Ivory refused to listen to reason.

  “She is! I cannot heal her now! She is gone!” Dovian hollered. Gripping the woman’s chin, he forced her to look up at him. “I’m sorry, Ivory. There is nothing I can do. She is dead. The shot killed her instantly.”

  “No…” Ivory whispered, her lower lip trembling. Dovian ran a hand through her hair, making sure to keep eye contact with the hysterical woman.

  “She felt no pain. Now, please, you will kill us all if you do not move on,” he said sternly.

  Ivory tried to tear her eyes back toward her little sister. Dovian forced her to look at him again.

  “Now,” he ordered.

  She finally let him pull her away from the body. Quickly, the four made their way through an alley and down a couple blocks away from the restaurant.

  “Where’s James?” Aria asked.

  “He was outside. I don’t know if they got to him,” Troy replied.

  “Damn it,” Aria cursed.

  “We have no weapons.” Troy ran a hand through his hair. “We have no goddamn weapons!”

  “I have one,” Dovian said.

  “We don’t even know the amount of soldiers there are. He could have the whole army for all we know,” Aria sighed irritably.

  Ivory sat against the wall, staring to the side, emotionless.

  “I can take care of them. What other choice do I have?” Dovian asked.

  “Die…you could die,” Aria scoffed.

  “I told you, I can’t die.” He smirked.

  “Still doesn’t mean I want to test it,” she replied.

  “Die…” Ivory murmured.

  The three looked at the woman with worried expressions.

  “They will all die,” she said darkly.

  “Over here!” a shout sounded from above.

  “Cover!” Aria shouted.

  They all darted to the sides. Dovian sent up a flare, hiding them from the enemy soldiers’ view. Loud footsteps neared their location. Cocking weapons sounded, and within seconds, intense flashes from the soldiers’ Ignition Rifles blasted down the alley, erupting in bright explosions against the surface of the walls and dumpsters. Aria and Troy crouched behind one massive container, hands covering their heads. The rounds exploded and crystallized into tiny shards that rained against their bodies.

  Ignition rounds were a nasty type of ammunition used specifically by Feyette’s unit. The ammunition was like capsules of liquid fire. Upon impact, the containers exploded and instantly cooled, sending splintering shards into the target’s body. It was nearly impossible to clean out a wound once hit by an Ignition round; the fragments were often so small, they were unseen by the human eye.

  “We’re totally going to die,” Troy coughed, covering his mouth with his leather jacket. He tried not to breathe in the crystalline dust filling the air for fear of cutting up his lungs. Aria covered her own face with a magnetized, form-fitting shroud that was clipped to her ears. The electric-blue material hung before her face. Tapping against the gems in her ears, the fabric magnetized, tightening over her nose and mouth. Troy followed her advice, pulling his hooded mask over his face from the back of his military undershirt.

  A loud shriek sounded, echoing amongst the chaos. It was Ivory.

  “Was she hit?” Aria asked.

  “I don’t know; I can’t see a damn thing in this bright light,” Troy answered.

  From the opposite side of the alley, Troy and Aria could hear the shouts of the soldiers as Dovian fought against them. By the sound of it, he was directing the military away from the two. Gunshots fired from above–sniper rounds. There was a massive crash behind Aria and Troy as the body of one soldier fell against the dumpster they were taking cover behind.

  “Shit!” Troy jumped. He looked up at the outstretched arm that was dislocated from the shoulder joint and dangling limply over the side of the canister.

  Aria narrowed her eyes, inspecting the massive hole in the man’s torso. He took a shot pointblank in the chest.

  “It’s Ivory,” Aria said. “She’s taken one of their weapons.”

  Rapid fire sounded continuously for a few minutes. Troy and Aria waited impatiently behind the dumpster, feeling utterly useless. Never in their life had they seemed more like amateurs since starting the dreadful mission at the 66th I.R.B.

  “Die! You are all going to die!” Ivory shouted from the rooftops.

  “I sure hope she isn’t killing any civilians,” Aria mumbled.

  “I don’t think she’s hit that point of crazy yet,” Troy said, with a small amount of doubt in his voice.

  “You didn’t see her freak out in the bathroom. She took Dovian down and was ready to kill him if needed.” Aria glanced at her partner.

  “Are we the only sane ones in this entire war?” Troy asked.

  Aria’s brow wrinkled. She never even thought about that. For the first time, she and Troy actually did seem like normal people.

  “Die!” Ivory screamed again.

  “Someone please stop her!” Dovian’s voice called out mentally to Aria and Troy. “Ivory, listen to me…” Dovian tried speaking to the blonde.

  The bright light that flooded into the alleyway began to dissipate, finally allowing the two soldiers to see. The sight was not pretty. Broken and battered bodies filled the alley. Half of them had large holes in their torsos. Ivory was on a rampage, killing every soldier on sight. It actually wasn’t a bad thing, but apparently she had lost control by Dovian’s standards.

  “Ivory!” Aria shouted.

  “Up top.” Troy pointed, catching the yellow and orange of Ivory’s Cherno-style clothing.

  Aria climbed atop the dumpster, avoiding the fallen soldier’s body. She reached for the rungs of the ladder that led to the rooftop. Quickly, she and Troy ascended to the top. Peering over the edge of the building, Aria met the sight of the barrel of Ivory’s weapon.

  “Shit!” She ducked down just as a blast erupted into the building behind them, narrowly missing Aria’s skull–the first time Ivory had ever missed.

  “Did she just fire at you?” Troy asked.

  “Yeah!” Aria wiped at her forehead. “Ivory!” she shouted. “Ivory! Can you hear me?”

  Silence filled the air.

  “Ivory, it’s me, Aria! Put down the weapon! Troy and I are going to get you to safety, alright?”

  Still no response.

  “I’m not
sticking my head up there again,” Aria whispered, looking down at Troy.

  “Damn it, she’s lost it.”He quickly descended the ladder, sliding down the sides. “Now we have the whole world against us.”

  “Not entirely,” Aria said, following after him.

  “Dovian, Ivory’s out of control. She almost shot me in the head.” Aria pressed against her mental chip.

  “I know; she shot me,” Dovian replied.

  “She shot you?!” Aria mentally screamed. Looking down at Troy, she spoke aloud, “She shot Dovian!”

  “Holy shit!” Troy shouted, helping guide her off the dumpster. “Is he okay?”

  “Are you alright?” Aria asked.

  “Just have a hole in my side; no big deal.” Even Dovian sounded mentally fatigued.

  “Damn it.” Aria rested her hand on her forehead.

  “What?” Troy asked. “What’d he say?”

  “Just have a hole in my side, no big deal,” she mimicked the Sorcēarian.

  “Damn!” Troy tried to suppress his amusement. If it didn’t kill Dovian, it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. “So what are we going to do?” he asked.

  “How about this for starters?” A male voice intruded.

  General Feyette stood a couple meters away from the couple. His hand gripped his side, blood dripping from a large wound that was evidently caused by Ivory. “You’re coming with me to headquarters. You will be detained until further notice. Your investigation is over.”

  “The hell it is!” Troy shouted, stepping in front of Aria.

  “Dovian, we’ve got trouble. Feyette’s here,” Aria alerted Dovian. She waited a few moments but received no response. “Dovian?” Now she began to really worry. What if Dovian wasn’t alright? What if his wound really was fatal? What if Ivory shot him in the head?

  Feyette looked amused, smiling crookedly as he pressed two fingers against the back of his ear. He stood for a moment, having a silent conversation with his soldiers.

  “I want you to alert your blonde friend. She’s coming with us.” Feyette said.

  In that instant, a group of four soldiers rounded the corner, each one gripping Dovian’s arms and shoulders, dragging him across the rough cement. His body was limp; blood dripping in generous heaps from his middle onto the ground in dark splatters. His already pale skin was pure white. He appeared very lifeless. One of the soldiers held his staff, inspecting it as they walked.

  “Dovian!” Aria shouted.

  “He can’t hear you,” Feyette chuckled.

  “What did you do to him?” Troy asked.

  “Nothing. He was dead when we found him, thanks to your little rabid friend.” Feyette gave a crooked smile.

  “No!” Aria gasped. It wasn’t true. Dovian said it himself, he couldn’t die.

  “You’re lying!” Troy shouted.

  “Am I?” the General asked. Slowly, he tugged his sidearm from its holster. Turning, he approached the Sorcēarian. He stared upon Dovian with dark eyes. “We really don’t need him alive. The autopsy alone will tell us more than we can imagine. Not only that, but with our cloning capabilities, we’ll be able to use his blood whether it courses through his veins or not.” Feyette turned to the side, looking at Troy and Aria both. He raised his arm, took aim and shot effortlessly at Dovian’s head, the blast making direct contact with his left temple, blowing out the other side in crimson streaks. The soldiers carelessly dropped the Sorcēarian.

  Aria screamed, covering her mouth as she dropped to her knees. Troy remained standing, guarding her. His chest heaved heavily as he watched the blood pour from Dovian’s wounds. Twitching, his teeth ground together as he tightened his jaw.

  Dovian had told them he couldn’t die, but he also said that, in the past, Euclid was only killed once he was decapitated. Troy wondered if a shot to the head would be the equivalent.

  “Prepare for evac,” Feyette ordered his troops.

  Aria stared at the downed Sorcēarian, her eyes large, her shaking hands covering her face. If Dovian was dead, there was no hope for survival. The world was doomed.

  “Dovian, wakeup. Please wakeup. Dovian!” she repeatedly called mentally. Still, he remained unmoving.

  Feyette stood rigid with his fingers against his ear. From beneath his military hat, he turned his eyes down at Aria, watching her momentarily. Troy caught the gesture. He continued his silent conversation for a few more seconds before nodding to himself. “So sorry,” he began, “but there’s been a change in plans.”

  Feyette lifted his pistol once again, aiming it at Troy. “Mr. Walten has informed me that you two are no longer needed. I am to relieve you of your duties…permanently.”

  “You bastard!” Troy shouted. He stepped back, sheltering Aria even more. “Run…” he whispered to the woman, his eyes never leaving Feyette’s. Aria gaped at her partner. Was he serious? She wasn’t going to abandon him and let him die alone. “Run, Aria,” he growled.

  Feyette chuckled and aimed low at Aria’s head. His finger pulled back on the trigger. And as soon as he did so, Dovian’s arm shot outwards, snatching his leg. He pulled Feyette off balance and the shot went wide, banging against the dumpster beside the woman. Feyette went down hard as Dovian tugged him to the ground. Pressing a hand against his chest, Dovian teleported and reappeared behind the soldier holding his staff. In one fluid motion, he kicked him in the back of the head, grabbed his weapon and spiraled, cutting across two of the other soldiers’ chests. The bodies limply fell onto the concrete. As Dovian made his attack, two eruptions sounded, and the other two enemies’ torsos exploded out their backsides, hit by Ivory’s rounds. Dovian aimed his staff at Feyette’s head, glaring at him with fierce, glowing eyes.

  “H-how?” Feyette stammered.

  “It’s a secret,” Dovian snarled.

  A second later, Ivory dropped to the ground, weapon in hand. She smirked at Aria and Troy.

  “Are you sane now?” Troy gaped at the blonde. She appeared to be quite normal for the time being.

  “All part of the plan,” Ivory whispered, giving a wink.

  Aria sighed, folding her arms over her chest. “Next time, let us in on the plan!”

  During the attack, Dovian had time to mentally communicate with Ivory. They formulated the plan silently to one another, quickly devising a way to fool Feyette and his men. At least they knew that Walten had plans to clone Dovian’s DNA. For what purpose, exactly, they weren’t sure, but the most logical reason would be to create a whole army of Sorcēarians. Still, they didn’t know what was so special about Ivory.

  Feyette lay on the ground, hands raised in defense against Dovian’s staff.

  “What do you want with Ivory?” Dovian asked in a grave tone.

  “She’s quite extraordinary,” Feyette replied, glancing in the blonde’s direction. “Couldn’t let that little brat ruin our plans.”

  “You killed my sister! For what?!” Ivory asked, pressing the barrel against Feyette’s cranium. “What the hell is so special about me?!”

  They all remained still, waiting for the general’s answer. When he gave none, Ivory cocked the weapon, ready to fire.

  “I’ve got more than one round left. How many brains do you got?” she asked fervently.

  Dovian smirked at the young woman’s fire.

  Feyette frowned, his eyes darting from Ivory’s to Dovian’s. “Okay, don’t shoot,” he grumbled.

  They waited impatiently.

  “You see…you are special because–” Feyette’s eyes darted to the digital sky, and then he smiled. It was the same egotistical, crooked smile he gave when he thought he had the upper hand with Troy and Aria. “That information is classified,” he said smugly.

  A black cord dropped between Dovian and Ivory from above. Wasting no time, Feyette snatched up the rope, and he was tugged upward at light speed toward a cloaked aircraft. Ivory quickly aimed and fired, the round catching the man’s leg just before he disappeared. A burst of red painted the side of the invisible craft.
The severed limb dropped, twirling through the air, and plopped against the concrete a few meters away. The sky flickered in distortion as the jet upped its thrusters and flew fast and far away from the Underbelly.

  “Damn it!” Troy cursed.

  “Got his leg,” Ivory said a bit too cheerfully.

  “And it was a good hit.” Dovian nodded, eyeing the appendage.

  “Aria!” It was James Clarke. “Are you there?!”

  “Yes! Are you alright?” she replied.

  “I’m okay! I’m at the airport. Quickly! Get your asses over here ASAP! I have your jet ready for takeoff! We don’t know when Feyette will show up with reinforcements.”

  “Roger that, sir! On our way now!” She turned to her team. “We’ve got to move out! Clarke’s got the jet ready! Be armed and ready!” Kneeling, she grabbed one of the Ignition Rifles. Troy followed her advice.

  Tactically running through the streets, Aria and Troy safely led the group toward the airport. Luckily, they were only a few blocks away. In minutes, they could be boarded and traveling on one of the fastest jets to Roma.

  At the last corner, Aria spun and looked to the right, Troy took the left. Together, they scoped out the airport. The sight was unnerving.

  “Careful. Watch your twelve,” Dovian mumbled, pointing straight ahead. Troy and Aria quickly retreated.

  From the entrance of the airport filed a whole fleet of militants. They lined the entire front of the facility. There was no way in without getting caught.

  “James, we have a problem,” Aria stated mentally.

  “Already on it. Wait a moment,” James replied.

  Aria and the others waited impatiently as the soldiers neared their position. They all had weapons at the ready, aiming down the alleys and corners of the airport. They were even searching the fake plants outside the entrance. Within moments, Feyette’s men were only meters away.

  “Come on, James…” Aria whispered.

  Like an answer to her prayers, a grenade was launched in the general vicinity of the military. It signaled the start of the rebellion. In seconds, the streets were full of the Underbelly’s civilians, all armed to the teeth with their own weaponry. Even the Soldiers of God were in the middle of the fight, their rifles blasting accurately at the enemy soldiers’ heads. Soldiers of God were flawless fighters, few and far between compared to the regular militaries. Needless to say, they were a valuable asset and something Aria was proud to have on her side at the moment.