Cynetic Wolf

Sirens echoed through the halls as people flew everywhere. It was chaos.

I bumped into Drue. “What’s happening?”

“No idea!” he yelled. “I’ve never heard the alarms. I think we need to evacuate.”

“Are you sure? To where?”

He shook his head. “I have no idea.”

Zedda’s voice crackled over the air speaker. “ATTENTION, ATTENTION. OUR SPIES IN THE DNS ALERTED US: POLICE ARE INBOUND ON OUR LOCATION. WE HAVE TEN MINUTES MAX. DESTROY ANY CLASSIFIED DATA OR COMMS. GRAB ANY BELONGINGS OR WEAPONS YOU CAN CARRY OR CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT, AND GET OUT OF HERE. EMERGENCY ESCAPE PLANS BEING PROJECTED ONTO THE BUILDING AS WE SPEAK. FOLLOW THE HIGHLIGHTED PATHS.” The walls lit up as virtual screens appeared, identifying exits. Green arrows materialized at our feet.

“FOLLOW YOUR TEAM LEADER TO YOUR RESPECTIVE SAFE HOUSE. THERE SHOULD BE VEHICLES AND TRANSPORT FOR EVERYONE. GO.”

The place exploded into action. Despite everything, there was an order to the madness.

Someone yanked my sleeve. “Come on, kid!” Lars yelled over the roar. “We need to go. Forget your stuff.” Turning, he pulled me toward the illuminated exit.

“How did they—”

“Not now!” he yelled.

We slammed into a wall of people at the blinking exit. The door was too small and there weren’t enough vehicles outside.

I altered my voice to inhuman levels and shouted, “If you are waiting for a ride, wait outside! You’re holding up the rest of us! We’ll be trapped!”

The line shuffled forward and we made it through, but we were in trouble. It had been two minutes. If the DNS arrived early, or cars and VTOLs didn’t appear fast, we were sitting ducks in the slushy parking lot.

Two cars had been loaded since we’d made it outside, nowhere near enough. Thirty of us stood here, shaking.

“How many rendezvous points are there?” I asked the crowd.

“Three!” someone cried.

So, at least a hundred hadn’t escaped yet. It had been five minutes.

Lars grabbed my elbow and dragged me forward. “You can’t wait here, kid. We have to get you out first.”

First? “What? No!” I pushed him off me. “We need to get everyone—”

“No, Raek!” Lars barked, smacking me. “There isn’t time. We need you, more than me. More than anyone.”

I was about to protest when my SmartCore alerted me to sub-auditory sounds coming in, restoring normal hearing.

An electric whirr. My heart stopped. “VTOLs inbound. At least three of ’em. Southeast.” I pointed but didn’t see anything yet.

A truck pulled up, three parked VTOLs on it. People piled in. Zedda’s head bobbed onto the steps, surrounded by bodies. Soon, the first two were full and took off.

When it was apparent we wouldn’t fit in the third, Lars raised his blaster and fired.

“I’m sorry!” he shouted. “Raek needs to be on that VTOL. He’s the best chance we have, the only one who can unite us, and possibly the other subspecies.”

Even as I resisted, people parted to let us pass. No… We got to the door and Lars pushed me aboard. I turned but he shoved me again. “Go, kid.”

“What? Aren’t you coming?” Everyone stared.

“It will be faster with less weight.” As he said it, others on the ship rose and climbed off.

“No!” I tried to stop them. Not them too. “Stay, it’ll be fine.”

They slipped past, smiling as they raised their fists. Only the pilot and I remained.

“All set?” he asked.

No! All these people...Where was the next VTOL?

Lars nodded, his eyes resolute.

Goosebumps wracked my icy skin as the VTOL took off.

The approaching craft were less than two minutes out from the sound of it. I peered out as we raced away, close to the ground to avoid detection. I had to be sure they got away.

A minute later, a massive explosion. Another, another. A dark cloud plumed over the buildings and treetops. No… they were early. The pilot dropped and landed in a small patch of pine. “It’s not safe to fly further,” he said. “They’ll have dozens of VTOLs en route. We might be spotted. This ship’s built for speed, not combat. We’re seven kilometers out. Should be good until nightfall and we’ll head to the safehouse.”

I stared at him, wordless. What could I say? “They all died, didn’t they?” He’d put me before him, sacrificed himself. Closing my eyes, tears came. “They all got off and died, all because of me.”

The pilot spun and ripped off his helmet. He must have been twenty-five, a strong furry jawline and the sinewy arms of a chimpish. Without a word, he lifted my chin and looked me in the eyes. “They didn’t die because of you, they died for you! They gave their lives for something bigger than themselves. I’d have done the same if you could’ve flown this thing. We hit nine hundred kilometers per hour in under a minute. That’s unheard of! A full load would be 400-600, tops. DNS will cordon off every square meter they can. With twelve people in this bird—heck, with a third of that—we wouldn’t have made it. Sure as sin, they’d find us. Yeah, they might of died, but they chose to and they’d do it again.” He gave me a sobering look. “Don’t let them down!”

I couldn’t help picturing Lars as the missiles struck, of all the time we’d spent together. And now, he was gone. Guilt stabbed my stomach. “Where do we go?”

He told me the plan while we covered the craft with camo fabric. I didn’t hear any of it, I was in shock. Once finished, we climbed in and talked a bit.

His name was Janek Liilisky, and he’d been with the Initiative three years, but this was his first real action. He’d had two brothers, Aleks and Iger, both pilots. Both died in Caen. At least his parents hadn’t lived to see that, dying years earlier during a work inspection.

After a while, we fell into silence. He fell asleep, snoring, while I replayed things in my head. How’d they find us?

The delivery van, it had to be. The DNS pieced it together and traced the van to base. Jeez, we’d parked at base... We’d been in such a hurry, we’d forgotten protocol. I’d spared that bastard gang leader and he’d tipped them off.

My fault… More tears. Lars and everyone else, all dead, because of me.

Positive thoughts: what are you going to do about it?

I messaged Zedda and heard back at once. At least she was okay!

A third of our people had gotten out. Ganla too, but they weren’t sure about Mico or Lars. I told her Lars didn’t make it but couldn’t bring myself to say more.

The silver lining—if you could call it that—was the VTOLs had destroyed everything. In their rush, the DNS had squandered their one chance to dissect our networks. Calter would be furious.

And again, they didn’t know I’d survived. They weren’t learning from their mistakes. I filed that away for later.

When I awoke, we were flying low over the faded landscape. The sun had set hours ago, and ominous shadows blanketed the world, the occasional snowflake floating in the wind.

Janek must have noticed me. “Two minutes.”

We cleared the treeline and a small red barn rose in the distance. A minute later, we landed in front. Three solid guys pulled open sliding doors and Janek maneuvered forward, landing on pallets next to the other two craft.

Zedda was there, and I swallowed a pained gasp. I hadn’t realized how worried I’d been.

She ran, kicking snow, and threw her arms around me, kissing me hard. Once we separated, she turned to Janek and pecked him on the cheek. “Thanks for getting him out.”

Janek stiffened, blushing.

“Raek, come on.” Zedda pulled my hand. “There’s a lot going on.”

A rowdy crowd gathered in the dining room of the farmhouse, clustered around two rustic wooden tables. There were maps out, food everywhere, and a chaotic buzz of purpose. These people wanted revenge.

Walking into the country style kitchen, someone clapped me on the back. “We were worried, Raek,” Henk said with a grim smile. “Didn’t know if...”

He left the question hanging.

“You must be starving.” Zedda pointed to the counter. “Grab food and follow me. Ganla’s upstairs in the study. We can talk there.”

The counters were cluttered with nuts and dried meat, things designed to last. Contorting guilt filled my gut, along with burning anger. I’d make them pay for what they’d done.

“Over here, Raek!” Zedda yelled as I ascended the rickety stairs.

The door at the end of the hall was ajar. Inside, seated around the antique iron table, were Zedda, Ganla, and someone I didn’t recognize.

“Raek, this is Caell, he owns the safehouse and manages the farm for the Initiative,” Ganla explained. “We’re glad you made it. We were worried.”

I ignored Caell, cutting to the chase, not bothering with niceties. “So, what’s happening? They tracked the van. I figured that much. We messed up. What’s happened since? How many people got out? Who’d we lose? Anything else?”

Ganla told me, but it was nothing new. Sixty-five of our hundred strong had died, and it was my fault.

“You saw the news,” Ganla added. “They are milking it for all it’s worth.”

I shook my head, confused, taking in the dim, cozy space for the first time.

“Yeah.” Zedda rolled her eyes. “I’ve never seen this much coverage of a raid. They’re saying they won the war. Many speculate the library bombing was an excuse for us to carry out larger-scale attacks.”

Those freaking liars. Somehow, I stayed calm, fists hard as iron.

“Don’t forget Couve and Ghrail,” Caell added. “Both broke into widespread fighting and are in the process of falling to the cynetics.”

“The cynetics?” I eyed the thin man. He had bland features and strong hands to match his farmer’s tan, only his whiskers notable, a wispy blond mustache in stark contrast to his thick auburn hair.

“The cynetic factions within the DNS have unified and are pushing for total cynetic control,” Ganla said. “We think Calter’s behind it.”

Of course he is… I paused, taking it all in.

“We can’t wait any longer,” I said at last. “Notify everyone you can contact. As of this moment, we’re officially at war!”