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After I sneak past the living room and notice a pillow and a mess of covers on the empty futon, I check the kitchen, thinking I’ll find Luke there. Nope. Bathroom, then.
At the bathroom, the door’s ajar and the light off. I scratch my head. Where is he? My eyes flick to Mom’s bedroom door—it’s closed—then to mine. A sliver of light escapes through a crack and makes a line on the floor. I stomp forward and push the door open. Luke is sitting in front of my desk, poking around on my computer.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
Luke spins in the chair. “Hi!” He stands. A large smile stretches his lips. He seems so glad to see me that my annoyance at seeing his hands on my keyboard dissipates.
“I was checking my email. You’re home,” he says, a childlike delight on his face. “Mom went to bed hours ago.”
Mom hits the sack at nine every night, which in my book is a plus. Odd how Luke makes it sound as if it’s a bad thing. Why isn’t he out with his friends? And on a Friday night?
I drop my keys inside a bowl on my night table and proceed to pull off my boots. “What’s the matter? Heartthrob Luke’s girlfriend du jour isn’t available tonight?”
He laughs. “Heartthrob Luke? I don’t think I like it. It sounds cheesy.”
“Isn’t cheesy your middle name?”
“No, it’s Maximilian.”
My fingers freeze on the shoelaces. I look up to see if this is his idea of a joke.
“What?” he asks, still looking happy to see me.
“That was ... the name Mom had picked for you.”
“Oh.” The corners of his mouth fall and make an unhappy arch. “I—I didn’t know.” He collapses on the chair, shoulders slumped, back caved in, as if Truth has fists and just punched him in the gut.
He must be wondering if his middle name is a coincidence or if that twisted man gave it to him knowingly. I’d bet on the latter. Mom must have mentioned the names to him. I can picture the bastard doing an ultrasound on her belly, and Mom rambling in excitement about what she would name her babies.
Whatever cheerfulness Luke felt when I first walked in is gone now. I feel awful for telling him.
“Um, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” I start.
“No. It’s okay. It’s not your fault, and I guess I’d rather know.”
“You sure?”
He nods and smiles again as genuinely as before. Man, he recovers quickly. That or he’s a good actor.
His demeanor changes yet again. “Hey, Payton’s having a party tomorrow night. Would you like to go?” He’s Cool Luke, now. The popular boy no one can resist.
Except his sister. “I can’t. I’ve ... got a thing with Xave.”
“What thing?” An undercurrent of displeasure creeps alongside his coolness.
“None of your business.” I resume undoing my boots.
Luke sits beside me on the bed. “Nothing I should be worried about, right?”
I laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna be one of those over-protective brothers.”
He puts a hand on my forearm. I look up, startled by the touch. His fingertips feel warm on my skin. When my gaze finds his, I feel a sudden connection. Our worlds lock. Gentle concern flows like a stream down his fingers and up my arm.
“Maybe Xave isn’t ... the best of influences,” he says. “Some of my teammates think he’s a bit of a criminal.”
I pull my arm away. I’m sure those jerks think anyone who’s not a football jock is no good. I shouldn’t forget Luke is one of them, despite this other side he’s been showing me. True, Xave is known more for skipping class than being a model student, but he doesn’t smoke or drink which is more than I can say about Luke and his friends. More than that, he does odd jobs in his free time, fixing lawn mowers and things for the neighbors. While I’m sure Luke has never worked a day in his life.
“I bet they do,” I say sarcastically. I have no time for this. I need to catch some sleep, even if only a few hours. “Look, I’m going to bed, you need to ...” I jerk my chin toward the door.
He stands, looks apologetic. “Man, that was stupid. I ...” Luke shakes his head and laughs. “I guess I may be one those over-protective brothers; who would’ve thought?” He seems truly puzzled by his own behavior. He runs his fingers through tousled blond hair. “I’m sorry. Trust me, I’m not being nosy. It’s just genuine concern. That’s all.” He looks embarrassed, as if he wishes he hadn’t stuck his foot in his mouth.
“It’s okay, Luke. It’s nice for someone to worry about me for a change. It’s been a while since...” My throat is unexpectedly thick.
Luke mock-punches me on the shoulder. “No worries, sis. I got your back when you need me. All you have to do is ask.” He winks and walks out, whispering “Nighty-night” before closing the door.
When I rest my head on the pillow, sleep envelops me in an instant, ushered in by a warm feeling of safety. It’s ridiculous, considering what awaits me in a few hours, but Luke seems to have soothed a part of me that’s been restless for a long time.
***
WE STAND UNDER THE opaque light fixtures of a crowded warehouse. The faint smell of wood mixes with the strong punch of varnish and saturates the air. No one seems to mind the odor. Their gazes are intense, determined.
The whole IgNiTe crew stands in a semicircle around James, waiting to hear whether we’ll proceed with the Riverbend mission or not. Yesterday, Aydan and I worked tirelessly to finish everything. I caught three hours of sleep before James called me back to The Tank to help Aydan, who ran into unforeseen security road blocks. Presumably we’ve all been working hard preparing, though I’ve no idea what everyone else was doing.
The lack of sleep combined with the moral torment I’ve been going through have exhausted me. I’m still trying to come to terms with this mission and its purpose. In the heat of the moment, I volunteered to help, not knowing what I was getting myself into. Now I know my hack will allow entry to the cryo lab, where the crew plans to blow up all the embryos with plastic explosives.
I feel like we’re playing God, deciding who lives and who doesn’t. I try to tell myself the embryos are just cell clusters. They don’t feel or know anything. More than that, they’re infected. Any babies born out of those embryos would be doomed to a miserable existence. I try not to think of Luke and the fact that he’s not infected, in spite of being conceived in an Eklyptor Petri dish. How many healthy embryos will we be blowing up? How many of them like me? I swallow hard and try to distract myself by worrying at a hangnail. I’ve come too far to let morality condemn me.
I shift my weight from one foot to the other, trying to guess what James’s words will be. Part of me wishes he would call the whole thing off. My own hacking adventures are covert and small in scale, which allows me to stay unnoticed and in control of every detail. But this is something else entirely.
Notwithstanding the moral implications, this also qualifies as a major criminal activity, and trying not to think of what could go wrong to land me in jail is taking some serious delusional exercises. I should be more worried about going to hell, but I guess that’s a given. Jail, on the other hand, I’d like to avoid. Way to have my priorities straight. But really, putting everything on the line—going all heist with a bunch of people I barely know—doesn’t speak highly of my judgment in the first place.
The fact that I don’t know if everyone did their part and if they did it right makes me extremely nervous. I know a single individual would never be able to pull off a thing like this, but having so many people involved drives the probability for error way high. I must be crazy trusting my future to this bunch. If anyone makes one mistake, we’re all screwed. The thought makes my heart skid into my stomach. I trust James; I just don’t know about the rest.
But what else can I do? It’s not like I have another choice. Not after James explained how important the fertility centers are for Eklyptors and their plans to take over. Infecting embryos is way faster than growing nasty tentacles. So even if one part of me is scared to death, there’s this other side that wants to attack them where it hurts the most.
We’re all dressed in dark outfits. The IgNiTe uniform, I suppose. I stand at one end of the semicircle, followed by Aydan, Oso, Xave, Blare, and Clark.
Xave’s eyes stay on me with unusual intensity. Every time I look his way, that hazel gaze locks with mine for an instant, until I turn the other way and pretend not to be interested in his insistent stare. We haven’t talked since that dismal conversation about Judy, one that I’ve seriously come to regret, especially after seeing them all cozy and nauseating all around school.
“Now that we’re all here.” James turns toward the open van behind him, and pulls out something. I try to identify the object but can’t see what he’s holding until he whirls and starts setting it up—a camera on a tripod. He adjusts it, lens pointing in his direction, and pushes a button. A small red light begins to pulse. He takes three steps back.
“Well,” James starts as he lets his eyes travel around, acknowledging everyone. “I want to thank you all for being here and for all the work you’ve put in these past few days. Um ...”
Um? That’s gotta be a first. Seeing James hesitate weakens my legs and makes me realize how crucial his confidence is in helping me stay sane. Judging by everyone’s puzzled looks, I think I’m not the only one taken aback by this unusual lack of certainty. I wait for his next words, trying to shrink the pit forming in my gut.
“I have a confession to make,” he says.
Oh crap! Aydan and I exchange nervous glances. This is not wasted on Xave who is—in spite of James’s commencing speech—still fixated on me.
“Uh, maybe we should get going before it gets late,” Aydan interrupts.
“We have time,” James responds with a reassuring smile. “Up until tonight, you have believed yourselves members of a ... small resistance against the vicious invaders that threaten to make humans their slaves. Your lives have remained mostly unchanged by your involvement in our cleansing activities. After today, however, I’m afraid that won’t be possible anymore.
“You see, this fight is bigger than I’ve let on. For ten years, I’ve been working on building a resistance. We have remained hidden because our numbers were few and our resources scarce. Up to this day, our approach has been covert for these reasons.”
He calls attacking clinics covert? His definition of that word doesn’t match mine at all. Maybe I’ll get him a dictionary for Christmas.
“Today, however, we find ourselves at a crossroads. IgNiTe is not a mom and pop operation any longer. There are thirty-eight more cells out there. Eighteen in the US and the rest overseas.”
“Holy cow!” Oso exclaims.
Everyone else remains quiet, too shocked to speak, too eager to hear all of what James has to say.
“Besides our members, our resources have also increased considerably thanks to a good number of what we like to call true philanthropists.” He laughs at the joke with sad amusement. The irony is not wasted on me. It isn’t hard to love humanity when its survival is at stake.
“Recent events have made it clear we cannot remain an underground movement anymore. AR-Tech—the parent company of all the clinics we’ve targeted in the past and a company ran exclusively by Eklyptor board members—has decided to revamp their security at all locations. The insider information that allowed us to break into the first clinic with relative ease will no longer be available.
“After some investigation, we’ve concluded that they’ve been planning to do this for some time. AR-Tech will be implementing their new security system tomorrow. It’s a well-orchestrated, company-wide conversion, at a cost of billions of dollars.
“The probability that they suspect foul play is high. I see no other reason why they would go through such costly, secretive measures to replace the current security equipment.”
James looks to the camera now and takes a deep breath.
“I hope all these reasons will explain why IgNiTe has decided to act tonight. We have all, across the country, been preparing attacks on different clinics. For some of us, all those hours of work are lost. Several of our partner cells were unable to finalize their plans on such short notice. I know it’s difficult and frustrating, but I assure you, we will regroup and we will fight harder.” James says the last four words with fervor, making my confidence return.
“Not all is lost, though. Some of us will be able to strike tonight and, in the end, we’ll all be better off after destroying their embryonic abominations and the means to create more. After tonight’s simultaneous attacks, however, Eklyptors will know for sure that someone has taken notice. After tonight, it is war. That is why ...”
James pauses and takes a deep breath, as if what he wants to say is terribly difficult.
He clears his throat. “I want to extend everyone an offer. If any of you wishes to leave, this is your chance. Think it through carefully, for we’re about to become a militia.”
James’s eyes cut from the camera to his crew. His expression holds a question for each of us. “Are you with me?” his gaze asks.
In spite of all my fears and doubts, I nod without hesitation. Aydan, Oso, Blare, Clark and Xave do the same. We are as one, our eyes alight with the desire to fight for our survival. Screw morality. I will follow James to the end. I will fight by his side.
James’s shoulders lower slightly, as if he’s just let go of a huge weight. Maybe he thought there would be deserters. Not here. I wonder if it’s the same in all those other cells. I hope so.
With a nod toward the camera, his expression grows in intensity and determination. His face is a pillar of strength, a mask of confidence. Eyes shining, he speaks to us and to those beyond this cramped warehouse. I assume the other cells will be watching the face of their leader on a television screen and will decide to keep on fighting. For how could anyone decide anything else?
“This cell remains complete,” he announces proudly. “I trust out there it is the same and we’ll continue to fight the intruders together.”
Now James looks down and takes a hand to his chest. His fingers pick at something, a small patch over his black leather jacket. With one swift motion, he tears it off, revealing an insignia.
It’s a triangular shape. Red and orange flames rise up from its wide base, devouring dark, ghostly figures as the fire spreads toward the pointed top. James puts a hand over his heart and pats the spot twice.
“It’s time to IgNiTe and FiGhT,” he pronounces, eyes alight, shining with passion, ablaze with their own brand of fire.
The intensity of his gaze and the conviction in his voice let me know I’ve made the right choice. With James in charge, there’s no other outcome but victory against the Eklyptors.