Calamity (Reckoners, #3)

I smiled wanly and slid my gun away across the ground, then did the same with Megan’s. I raised my hands as the drones surrounded us. Most of them were the tracks-and-assault-rifle type, though there were also a few that flew. I was in luck—they held their fire.

One of the machines rolled closer. It had raised a small screen from its base, which projected a backlit shadowy figure. “That image was of Firefight, from Newcago, right? It fooled my sensors completely,” the voice said. “No ordinary illusion could have done that. What technology are you using?”

“I’ll tell you,” Megan said. “Just don’t shoot. Please.” She stood up, and as she did so, she kicked something backward with her heel.

Her headset. Still lying on my side, I caught it under my hand and rolled onto it, masking the motion by holding my bleeding leg. I didn’t think any drones spotted what we’d done.

“Well?” the voice said. “I’m waiting.”

“Dimensional shadows,” Megan said. “They aren’t illusions, but ripples from another state of reality.” She’d stood to face the robot army, putting herself between the robots and me. Most focused their weapons on her—and if they killed her, she’d reincarnate.

I appreciated her protective gesture, but sparks, reincarnating could do unpredictable things to her—particularly with how her powers had been acting lately. She hadn’t died since we were in Babilar, and I hoped to keep it that way.

I needed to do something. I curled up, still holding my leg. The pain was real. I could only hope the way I trembled and bled would make the drones dismiss me as I laid my head on the headset and covertly whispered into the microphone.

“Mizzy? You there? Cody? Abraham?”

No reply came.

“Impossible,” the man said to Megan. “I’ve tried numerous times to capture that type of power in a motivator, and I doubt anyone has the knowledge to do what I could not. Dimensional rifting is too complex, too strong to…”

I glanced up at Megan, who stood tall and proud before the arrayed army, even though I knew her head must be splitting with pain. She’d spoken earlier in humility, as if beaten—but her posture told another story. Of a refusal to back down, to bend a knee, or to bow to anyone or anything.

“You’re an Epic, aren’t you?” the voice said, tone growing hard. “There is no technology, no motivator. Jonathan is recruiting, then? Now that he’s turned?”

I couldn’t stifle my gasp. How did he know about Prof? I wanted to demand answers, but I was in no position to do so. I rested my head against the floor, suddenly drowsy. Sparks. How much blood had I lost?

As my head touched the headset, it crackled and Mizzy’s voice cut in. “Megan? Sparks, talk to me! Are you—”

“I’m here, Mizzy,” I whispered.

“David? Finally! Look, I’ve placed charges to collapse the tunnel. Can you get out that way? I can blow it after you pass.”

Charges. I glanced at the drones surrounding us.

Megan’s illusions…

“Do it now, Mizzy,” I whispered.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Then I braced myself.

The explosion blew above, and it somehow seemed louder because I’d been expecting it. The chunks of metal fell exactly where they had before, slamming to the ground inches from where I crouched—but I was left unharmed, as was Megan.

The robots, on the other hand, acted like a bunch of youthful dreams and got thoroughly crushed.

Megan was at my side in an instant, handgun pulled from her thigh holster, firing at the remaining drones. I managed to pull the knife out of my calf sheath and I held it up, drawing a glance from Megan that said, “Seriously?”

“At least it’s not a stupid samurai sword,” I muttered, putting my back to the debris. As the falling dust cleared, Megan picked off one final drone, sending it spinning to the ground.

I pushed myself to my feet—well, foot—and hobbled along the wreckage of the tunnel toward my gun.

“Where did that come from?” Megan asked, gesturing toward the broken ceiling. Mizzy’s charges hadn’t completely collapsed the tunnel—in fact, so far as I could tell, the fallen wreckage was identical to the illusory debris that Megan had created.

“Mizzy said she could blow the place after our escape.”

“And you had her drop it on top of us instead?” Megan said, fetching my gun and handing it to me, then grabbing her rifle.

“I was thinking, your illusions pull from alternate realities, right? And the closer the reality is to ours, the easier it is to pull? You were really tired—”

“Still am.”

“—and I figured you used a reality very like our own. Explosion from above. Mizzy had placed charges. So I guessed it would happen the same way.”

Megan got under my arm again and helped me limp around the wreckage. She shot a drone that was trying to extricate itself from some fallen stone. “That might not have worked,” she said softly. “Things don’t always turn out like they do in the other realities. You could have crushed yourself, David.”

“Well, I didn’t,” I said, “so for now we’re safe….”