I gasped, spinning around. Nightwielder stood nearby in the cavernous room. I fired a shot at him, but nothing happened. I cursed, getting closer, rifle to my shoulder and the UV light streaming before me.
Nightwielder smiled a devilish grin as I put a bullet through his face. Nothing. The UV wasn’t working. I froze in place, panicked. Was I wrong about his weakness? But it had worked before. Why—
I spun about, barely stopping a group of spears. The light dispersed them as soon as it touched them, so it was still working. So what was happening?
Illusion, I thought, feeling stupid. Slontze. How many times am I going to fall for that? I scanned the walls. Sure enough, I caught a glimpse of Nightwielder staring out from one of them toward me. He pulled back before I could fire, and the darkness fell motionless again.
I waited, sweating, focused on that point. Maybe he’d peer out again. The fake Nightwielder was just to my right, looking impassive. Firefight was in the room somewhere. Invisible. He could gun me down. Why didn’t he?
Nightwielder peeked out again, and I fired, but he was gone in an eyeblink and the shot ricocheted off the wall. He’d probably come at me from another direction, I decided, so I took off running. As I ran I swiped the butt of my gun through the fake Nightwielder. As I expected, it passed right through, the apparition wavering faintly like a projected image.
Explosions sounded. Abraham cursed in my ear.
“What?” Tia asked.
“Crossfire doesn’t work,” Cody said. “We got a big group of soldiers to fire on each other through the smoke, without their realizing that Steelheart was in the middle.”
“At least a dozen shots hit him,” Abraham said. “That theory is dead. I repeat, accidental fire does not hurt him.”
Calamity! I thought. And I’d been so sure about that theory. I ground my teeth, still running. We’re not going to be able to kill him, I thought. This is all going to be meaningless.
“I’m afraid that I can confirm,” Cody said. “I saw the bullets hit too, and he didn’t even notice.” He paused. “Prof, you’re a machine. Just thought I’d say that.”
Prof’s only response was a grunt.
“David, how are you handling Nightwielder?” Tia asked. “We need you to activate phase four. Shoot Steelheart with your father’s gun. It’s all we have left.”
“How am I handling Nightwielder?” I asked. “Poorly. I’ll get out there when I can.” I continued jogging down the large, open concourse beneath the seating. Maybe if I could get outside I’d have a better time of it. There were too many hiding places in here.
He was waiting for me when I came out of that tunnel, I thought. They’ve got to be listening in on our conversations. That’s how they knew so much about our initial setup.
That, of course, was impossible. Mobile signals were unhackable. The Knighthawk Foundry made sure of that. And beyond that, the Reckoners were on their own network.
Except …
Megan’s mobile. It was still connected to our network. Had I ever mentioned to Prof and the others that she’d lost it in the fall? I’d assumed it was broken, but if it hadn’t been …
They listened in on our preparations, I thought. Did we mention over the lines that Limelight wasn’t real? I thought hard, trying to remember our conversations over the last three days. I came up blank. Maybe we’d talked about it, but maybe not. The Reckoners tended to be circumspect about their conversations over the network, just to be extra careful.
Further speculation was cut off as I spotted a figure in the hallway in front of me. I slowed, rifle to shoulder, drawing a bead on it. What would Firefight try this time?
Another image of Megan, just standing there. She wore jeans and a tight red button-up shirt—but no Reckoner jacket—her golden hair pulled back in a shoulder-length ponytail. Wary, in case Nightwielder attacked me from behind, I moved past the illusion. It watched me with a blank expression but didn’t move otherwise.
How could I find Firefight? He’d be invisible, probably. I wasn’t certain he had that power, but it made sense.
Ways of revealing an invisible Epic ran through my mind. Either I had to listen for him or I had to fog the air with something. Flour, dirt, dust … maybe I could use the tensor somehow? Sweat trickled down my brow. I hated knowing that someone was watching me, someone I couldn’t see.
What to do? My initial plan to deal with Firefight had been to reveal I knew his secret, to scare him off as I had Nightwielder during the Conflux hit. That wouldn’t work now. He knew we were on to him. He needed to see the Reckoners dead to hide his secret. Calamity, Calamity, Calamity!
The illusion of Megan turned its head, following me as I tried to watch all corners of the room and listen for movement.
The illusion frowned. “I know you,” she said.
It was her voice. I shivered. A powerful Epic illusionist would be able to create sounds with their images, I told myself. I know that’s true. No need to be surprised.
But it was her voice. How did Firefight know her voice?
“Yes …,” she said, walking toward me. “I do know you. Something about … about knees.” Her eyes narrowed at me. “I should kill you now.”
Knees. Firefight couldn’t know about that, could he? Had Megan called me that name over the mobile? They couldn’t have been listening back then, could they?
I wavered, my gun’s sights on her. The illusion. Or was it Megan? Nightwielder would be coming. I couldn’t just stand there, but I couldn’t run either.
She was walking toward me. Her arrogant expression made her look like she owned the world. Megan had acted like that before, but there was something more here. Her bearing was more confident, even though she had pursed her lips, perplexed.
I had to know. I had to.
I lowered the gun and leaped forward. She reacted, but too slowly, and I grabbed her arm.
It was real.
A second later, the hallway exploded.
38
I coughed, rolling over. I was on the ground, my ears ringing. Bits of trash burned nearby. I blinked away the afterimages in my eyes, shaking my head.
“What was that?” I croaked.
“David?” Abraham said in my ear.
“An explosion,” I said, groaning and pulling myself up to my feet. I looked around the hallway. Megan. Where was she? I couldn’t see her anywhere.
She’d been real. I had felt her. That meant it wasn’t an illusion, right? Was I losing my mind?
“Calamity!” Abraham said. “I thought you were down the other end of the concourse. You said you’d go westward!”
“I ran to get away from Nightwielder,” I said. “I ran the wrong way. I’m a slontze, Abraham. Sorry.”
My rifle. I saw the stock sticking out of a nearby pile of trash. I pulled it out. The rest of the gun wasn’t attached. Sparks! I thought. I’m having a devil of a time holding on to these lately.
I found the rest of the gun nearby. It might still work, but without a stock I’d be firing from the hip. The flashlight was still strapped to it, however, and still shining, so I snatched the whole thing up.
“What’s your condition?” Tia asked, voice tense.
“A little stunned,” I said, “but all right. It wasn’t close enough to hit me with anything more than the concussion.”
“Those will be amplified in these hallways,” Abraham said. “Calamity, Tia. We’re losing control of this situation.”
“Damn you all,” Prof’s voice said, sounding feral. “I want David out here now. Bring me that gun!”
“I’m coming to help you, lad,” Cody said. “Stay put.”
A sudden thought struck me. If Steelheart and his people really were listening in on our private line, I could use that.
The idea warred with my desire to hunt for Megan. What if she was hurt? She had to be around here somewhere, and there seemed to be a lot more rubble in the hallway now. I needed to see if …
No. I couldn’t afford to be tricked. Maybe that had been Firefight, wearing Megan’s face to distract me.
“Okay,” I said to Cody. “You know the restrooms near the fourth bomb position? I’m going to hide in there until you arrive.”
“Got it,” Cody said.
I dashed away, hoping that Nightwielder, wherever he was, had been disoriented by the blast. I neared the restrooms I’d mentioned to Cody, but I didn’t go into them as I’d said. Instead I found a spot nearby and used my tensor to blast a hole into the ground. This was a place where I’d be relatively well hidden but would also have a good view of the rest of the corridor—restrooms included.
I dug the hole deep, then burrowed down in it as Prof had taught me, using the dust to cover up. Soon I was like a soldier in a foxhole, carefully hidden. I turned my mobile to silent and buried my half rifle just under the surface of the dust, so the light from the flashlight was concealed.
Then I watched the door to that restroom. The corridor fell silent. Lit only by burning scraps.
“Is anyone there?” a voice called into the hallway. “I … I’m hurt.”
I tensed. That was Megan.
It’s a trick. It has to be.
I scanned the dim room. There, on the other side of the hallway, I saw an arm wedged in a mountain of rubble from the blast. Chunks of steel, some fallen girders from above. The arm twitched, and blood ran down the wrist. As I looked closer, I could see her face and torso in the shadows. She looked like she was only now beginning to stir, as if she’d been briefly knocked unconscious by the blast.