Breed Book 3, Part 33

Cris found it strange being behind Angela’s invisible wall. It added a shimmering layer to the world, like looking through a fish tank filled with clear water. He reminded himself that while he could see out, no one could see in as ICE agents streamed out of the warehouse, forming up on the opposite side of the street. Their weapons swept across the gathered children as they searched in vain. When the barrel landed on Angela her breath went out of her, and she swayed.

“What’s wrong?” Cris whispered.

“Can’t… keep it up,” she said, straining. “But I think,” she took in a broken breath, “I can tip over the wall onto them.”

“Wait,” he said. “Don’t. If we let them make us hate them the way they hate us, they win.”

“No,” she croaked. “They only win if we use our power on them like they’ve used theirs on us. I can hate them however deeply I need to get through this sick world they’ve trapped us in- and if I have to a crush a few of them, that’s still me choosing not to crush as many of them as I can.” The anger in her words was undercut by her growing weakness; she was barely on her feet as she finished, and gasped, stumbling forward, nearly falling into the street.

Cris held up his hand, and leaned towards her, whispering in her ear. “Let me try something,” he said. “Can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner.” His hands started to glow- a glow that didn’t penetrate beyond Angela’s invisible wall- a glow that entered her back, and seemed to flicker in her eyes. An instant later her back straightened, and she squared her feet.

“I’m good,” she said. “Now get the show on the road. I can’t hold this all night.”

Cris pointed towards the hole, even though it didn’t look much like one. Cris, or at least a figment that looked like him, peered out through the storm drain.

“There!” One of the ICE agents yelled, shining a light in after him, and firing off a volley of shots.

Cris heard himself yell, “Come on, we’re out of time,” from the storm drain, before the street collapsed inward.

“Get this manhole open,” the agent in charge yelled, and wedged a knife under the cover to lift it enough to remove it. He started to climb down, before stopping abruptly. “Shit. Cave in blocked the tunnels. Call the NSA. We’re going to need to know where the nearest access points are.” He climbed back out, and two agents slid the cover back in place. “Let’s go,” he barked. “We’re going to need to split into multiple teams. Think the sewers here are on a grid, so we’ll need blocks in all of the cardinal directions…” he trailed off as the agents filed back inside.

“How we doing this, boss?” Angela asked.

“If they’re massing at the nearest manholes,” Ben said, “that means we just have to make it a few blocks. We do that, then head diagonally… we should be able to evade them.”

“Can you keep us hidden while we move?” Cris asked Angela.

“I feel like I could bench press a moose right now.” “I’ll keep you juiced up. Ben, take point, since you know where we’re headed. Rui, Sonya, you’ve got the rear; if anything happens, you cover our escape. Angela and I will make sure everybody stays hidden. Everybody, we’re doing great. We’re almost home.”

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