Mark awoke, seeing the face of Gabe hovering above him. Mark stood, his head aching. Around him was the wreckage of the helicopter crash, some of it still burning. He had survived. That was amazing. Even without the parachute, and holding Phoebe-
Where was Phoebe?
"Where is she?" Mark said, "Where's Phoebe?"
"She'll be fine," Mark heard Byron say behind him, "Maybe a little shaken up, but she'll be able to perform the tasks ahead of her today."
This statement brought Mark back to the present. He remembered his frustration from the night before; how he would have to babysit Stephen again.
However, his frustration of the lack of adventure could not outweigh the puzzlement he felt over the dream he had imagined while he was unconscious. He had had a dream every time he went to sleep, each stranger than the last, ever since he had dreamed of Byron when he was still in Sector Two.
It wasn't time for thinking, though; the group had begun to move, heading to Sector Six, the smell of salt water in the air.
Williard Poore had never been so nervous. The Unnatural were coming to him, now, trying to rescue Kaytlen Williams, the Unnatural he has captured. Williard was the only governor who had managed to successfully subdue one of the Unnatural. They had moved quickly to imprison her, hacking into the Secret Service's tracking technology to discover which of their citizens was the deformity. Williard smirked at the memory. He would have thought that only a highly experienced scientist from Sector Eight would have been able to accomplish such a feat, but his team had done so flawlessly, going in and out in a matter of minutes, leaving no trace of their having been there. From there Williard had sent a team of soldiers out to arrest Kaytlen before she let her power loose. Now she was in a cell miles underground a command center that had up-to date, triple-layered defense technology from only the finest in the art.
Even with all of these layers of security, however, Williard still felt nervous.
There were three ways this could end, he had concluded, and only one of them was good.
One: The Unnatural would invade his base and level it, killing him, and rescuing Kaytlen.
Two: The Unnatural would invade, yet spare him, rescuing Kaytlen. This would humiliate Williard, and he would be executed by the other governors for his failure.
Three: The Unnatural would invade and be caught in the process, making Williard a hero.
Williard, publicly, expected the third, but, inwardly, wondered, even assured himself, that he would fail. But Williard was no coward. He would face the Unnatural, and, if he had to, die to stop their path of destruction.
"Do you know where she is?" Phoebe asked Byron once they crossed the Sector Six Border. They had left Mark and Stephen behind. Phoebe looked back, watching them walk off, going around the Sector. She wished they didn't have to go.
If only Mark knew…
"Yes," said Byron, "And I don't like it." He smiled, though, a wry, mischievous smile that told Phoebe Byron knew something and was holding it back.
"Where?"
"Underground," He said, regaining his formerly creased brow, as if he were focusing, or angry, or both, "Under the governor's home. They've captured her."
"You've known that this whole time?"
"Yes."
"Then why'd you leave Mark and Stephen behind? Even with Stephen's injury, he could still help us."
"Because I can't let them get hurt. Besides, the plan I have in mind is going to require as small an amount of people as possible."
"Mark wasn't too glad about separating. Why didn't you tell him about this? It might've encouraged him to leave with Stephen."
"Mark is more thick-skulled than you think, Phoebe. If I had told him, he would have wanted to come even more."
"Why?"
"Because he's like me," Byron said, "He doesn't want to see us hurt."
"I'm sorry," Stephen said as they walked, "It's my fault we had to leave them."
Mark looked over at the small guy. Mark did, secretly, accuse Stephen of his having to leave, but, now, he saw that he was genuinely regretful about the situation.
"It's fine," Mark said, "You did what was right to get hurt."
"What?"
"I'm sorry," Mark said, "I was never good with words. What I meant was that you were willing to sacrifice yourself to make sure that Phoebe was able to be safe. And you shouldn't be sorry about that. In fact, you should be shown appreciation. So, thank you."
Stephen looked up at Mark.
"Thanks," he said.
Mark nodded. "Now," he said, "We need to get around Six before the others. Do you think you could teleport us over there?"
"A few yards at a time, sure," Stephen said.
"We're going to need two soldier uniforms," Byron said to Gabe and Phoebe as they approached the governor's home.
"We can sneak around back and get some," Phoebe said.
"Correct. There will be some security guards there, and it will be hidden enough that we should not have any witnesses. However, there are security cameras, so we'll have to distract them so that they'll go out of sight."
"But why only two?" said Gabe, "There are three of us."
"Because, my friend, we will be leading you down into a cell."
"What?"
"You will be the one to get us in. We'll pretend that you are our prisoner, and we'll lead you down to where Kaytlen is. We get her out, then we fight our way out ourselves."
"I think I've seen this movie before," commented Phoebe jokingly.
"Let's go," said Byron.
They walked behind a couple of houses that were far enough from the governor's home to not raise much suspicion. Surprisingly, very few people were out. Apparently everyone worked at sea. They soon reached a point where they could see, but not be seen, behind the governor's house.
"Go, Gabe" said Byron, "Bring two of them over here."
Gabe nodded and took a cautious step forwards. He wasn't noticed at first, but, as he advanced further, the guards took notice of him. Suddenly, there were more than just two. Gabe ran back to their hiding place, several security guards on his tail. Byron and Phoebe stood, Phoebe lifting all of their weapons out of their holsters and smacking them against their heads. Several crumpled to the ground, and all that didn't were either smacked again or dismantled by Byron.
"That was easy enough," he said. He quickly worked on taking the outer armor off of a soldier about Phoebe's height. He tossed the armor to her. He looked for a suit of his own. Once he found one, he did his best to assemble the armor in a way that resembled that of a security guard. He slid the helmet on over his head, and the world immediately became several times darker, the tinted mask obscuring his vision until his eyes adjusted. When they did, he looked down at the belt he had put on, taking a pair of handcuffs out. "Don't worry, Gabe," Byron said, putting them on the man's wrists, "Once we get to a fighting point, absorb the handcuffs, break them off, and join us."
Phoebe stumbled around, not quite used to the heavy feel or the tinted facemask of the armor. She walked over to Byron. "You ready?" she said.
Byron sighed. "This is going to be fun," he said sarcastically.
They stepped into the door, Byron sliding a card in a panel, unlocking it. Inside, they were met with a security checkpoint. "We caught this beast outside," Byron said to the soldier standing behind it.
"We saw," the soldier replied, "Where are the others?"
"The other guards are combing the area, searching for them."
"All of them?"
"Yes, sir. We were instructed to take this one downstairs to where Kaytlen Williams is being held."
"Alright. Proceed."
As they walked off, Byron whispered to Phoebe, "That was easier than I thought."
They walked through two doors that led to stairs that went down. Occasionally, they walked into a long hallway that was lined with security guards standing at attention, ready to leap into action at a moment's notice. The sight worried Byron; they would have to fight their way out. If Kaytlen didn't have a great offensive power, like Byron, and wasn't trained in self-defense techniques, they would have a hard time getting out.
Maybe he should have brought Mark and Stephen along, after all.
Byron pushed the thought aside. The fewer the participants in this operation, the better.
As Byron observed their route from inside his disguise, he noticed several things: security cameras lining the walls, air-locking doors, panels in the ceiling that could slide back, probably holding turrets inside them. They would have a difficult time getting out.
Soon the air started getting cooler, thinner. Byron couldn't tell how far down they'd gone, but he hoped that they were close. And he was right. Soon they reached the bottom of a flight of stairs and walked into the room. In front of them were five glass cages suspended in the air. In one of them lay a young girl, her body curled up in a corner, her eyes, dark circles surrounding them, glaring out at the metal room. Her skin was dark, her hair short.
Kaytlen Byron reached out to her.
The girl looked up, her eyes searching for who had said her name. Byron guessed she hadn't heard any human speech other than her own for the two days she'd been here.
We're here to get you out he said whatever you see, stay calm.
Byron walked over to a long, semicircular desk with lights blinking on and off, where three other guards sat talking.
"Excuse me, gentlemen," Byron said. They all looked up at him. Byron grabbed one's head and slammed it down on the desk. The other two stood up and grabbed their rifles, but they were too slow. Byron kneed one in the stomach and then, when he keeled over, the face, sending him down. The last one had his rifle locked and loaded, ready to blast Byron down, but a large metal hand reached over and grabbed his gun before he could do so, firing it at the ceiling. Gabe punched the guard in the back, there was a crack, and Gabe threw him onto the floor.
"You didn't have to kill the man," mumbled Byron as he threw his helmet off and hurriedly looked across the desk, looking for something to let Kaytlen out of the glass box.
"You're welcome," said Gabe
Byron slid a lever down, which made the box descend. Kaytlen jumped up as the box went down. Sirens began to blare. Gabe kicked one of the guards in the mask as he tried to get up, keeping him down. Phoebe pulled her helmet off and threw it to the ground. She pressed a button that slid a panel in the glass box open. Kaytlen took a cautious step out.
"Are you-" she began to say.
"We'll explain later," Byron said, "But we have to leave, now! There'll be guards at the door any second now!"
Kaytlen nodded and ran towards them. Byron heard a hissing sound and looked behind him. An airlock was closing on the only door that led to the room. He ran for it, but knew he wouldn't be able to make it in time. The airlock closed just before he got there. He heard a shout behind him, and knew what was happening. Byron wisely moved out of the way, allowing Gabe to barrel through, crashing straight into the airlock, bringing it down. However, there were still a few soldiers in the hallway, but Gabe didn't stop. He hit the soldiers like a bowling ball, throwing them aside as they tried in vain to pierce his thick, metal hide with bullets. He barely felt the ammunition hitting his skin. "Come on!" he yelled behind him to Byron, "We have to go!" Just as he said this, a panel slid open in the roof, a turret lowering out of it. It opened fire on Gabe. The rapidity of the blasts hit Gabe with such a force that he fell to the ground, unable to move. Phoebe ran forward, extending her will to the turret. It ripped itself out of it socket and twisted its barrel so that it jammed, exploding. Gabe stood, several dents in his arm that he had used to protect his face. "That hurt," he said. They ran up the long stairway. Along the way they encountered soldiers, but easily threw them over the railing. Whenever turrets slid out of the roof, Phoebe brought them down.
"Is this all the governor has?" Byron wondered aloud. He thought that a governor, especially with so important a prisoner, would have a far more advanced security system than this.
They were reaching the top when Byron got his answer. He had noticed the shower heads in the roof on their way in, but had just thought that they were in case of a fire. Instead, once Gabe entered a room, he was showered in acid from the shower heads. He bellowed in pain and backed out, metal skin smoking with burns. "I can help," said Kaytlen quietly. She extended her hands, and, suddenly, the acid started going up instead of down. "Hydrokinesis," Byron said, "Incredible!"
They entered the hallway. They were safe from the acid. "Kaytlen can control anything that contains dihydrogen monoxide," Byron explained as they walked up, "At least, things that are openly exposed. I doubt you could control human bodies."
"What?" said Kaytlen.
"You can control water."
"Oh. Yeah."
And so they traveled, up, up, and further up, until they came crashing out of the doors they had entered several hours earlier. The room was empty, several items smoking and burning from the exposure to acid.
"This way," Byron said, leading them to the back door that they had entered. However, when they turned the corner, they jumped back, hearing a gunshot. Byron peered around the corner, seeing an older man, with touches of grey around his hair, holding a glass pistol. He stood just outside the door, aiming his pistol at them. It was Sector Six's governor, Williard Poore.
"Come out with your hands up!" Williard said.
Byron did as he said slowly, motioning for the others to do the same.
"Do you know what you've done?" the governor said once he could see all of them.
"You've killed me!" he said, "You've killed my family, my reputation, my career."
"We didn't have to!" Byron said to him, "You could've let us go freely! But instead you had to try to kill us or to lock us up! This is your doing, Williard. You've done a poor job conserving your life."
"I could get it back, though. I could shoot all four of you, and I'll be a hero. A god! I would be known as the one to take down the Unnatural," he said the last word with a snarl.
"We don't want to hurt you, Williard. We don't want to hurt anybody. We just want to leave."
"Leave?" said Williard, lowering his pistol, just a little, "What do you mean?"
"We want to leave this country," Byron said, "We want to get together in a group and leave."
"You…don't want to take over the Nation?"
"On the contrary. If you would let us, we would be out of your hair in a matter of days. But no. You had to go and hunt us, making us look like the bad guys."
Williard laughed. "But you don't see why we're keeping you here, do you?" he said, bringing his pistol back up, "There are many more pieces at play here than you could ever imagine. If you really cared, you wouldn't leave."
"What do you mean?"
"We have to keep you here. You're integral to our safety. And that's why we're not trying to kill you-"
"Enough of this," said Phoebe. She ran forward at the governor, who pulled the trigger. "No!" Gabe shouted, running after her. A dart went forth from the barrel and struck Phoebe's shin, bringing her to the ground. Her face contorted in pain, but, after a minute, she lay still. Gabe roared and ran at Williard, who couldn't react fast enough. Gabe seized the old man, lifted him up, and brought him down on his knee. Williard gasped in pain and dropped the gun. Byron and Kaytlen ran to Phoebe's side. "Is she okay?" said Kaytlen. Byron pressed his fingers against her throat. There was a pulse, however faint. "She's fine," Byron said, "For now." He moved down to her shin, pulling the dart from it. "The good news is that it's not a bullet," Byron said, examining the dart, "It's a paralyzing drug of some sort. She'll live, but I doubt she'll be able to move."
"At all?"
Byron nodded sadly. "Unless…" he said thoughtfully.
"What is it?"
"I may know somebody who can help us," he said. Byron reached down and picked her up. "Mark's not going to be happy about this," he mumbled as they walked out of the house.