State of Pursuit

Whatever. Life continually surprises me.

Ma

The chopper lurches and everything levels out for a moment. I swallow some much-needed air. Ma

I try. I really do. It’s not much of a preparation, though. The chopper slams into the ground. Ma

The chopper bounces roughly, gritting through dirt and trees. Are there buildings here? I don’t know. It’s too dark. Too loud. The sheer chaos overrides every sense in my body. I hang on with the one functional hand that I have left and slam against the wall. More pain shoots through my body.

This is going to hurt later.

If I’m even alive later.

The aircraft begins to slide, tearing apart. The strap that I’ve been holding onto snaps and I’m thrown against the opposite wall. I protect my head with my arms, landing in a crouched, compact position. The prolonged slide seems to stretch for eternity, but it is only mere seconds.

The giant rotor blades collide with the ground, shards of deadly metal flying everywhere — faster than the speed of a bullet, shredding everything in its path.

I’m thrown back across the chopper. I land on someone’s legs. Uriah grabs my shoulders and pulls me upright, offering support. The screaming engine abruptly halts, smoke swirling around us, flames licking through the openings in the chopper.

“Find a hole and get out!” Ma

He manages to climb out of the pilot’s seat, rattled by the crash as much as the rest of us. I climb on hands and knees to the medical stretcher again. I unsnap Chris’s restraints and drag him out of the bed. He is completely unconscious — and heavy. Superhuman levels of adrenaline is the only reason I have the strength to drag him the first few feet through the helicopter as the team hurriedly exits through the holes. They scramble and tumble outside. I am dragging Chris along with me — using every ounce of strength left in my body.

Uriah suddenly takes Chris’s other shoulder and we are dragging him together, outside, into the cold, night air. I stagger out, drop to my knees, and hold my head in my hands. I shake myself and turn back. Uriah and I take Chris further away from the burning helicopter.

I look at my left wrist. It’s already turning black and blue.

It could be worse.

“Help me get him out of here,” I tell Uriah.

Chris groans and a couple of the men carry an empty stretcher out of the helicopter, which is quickly becoming engulfed in flames. This thing is going to be a pain to escape with. We do a quick assessment of our men — a headcount, a check — and hobble to our feet. The enemy is all around us. We are miles away from the Holding Center, but we are still in Los Angeles. If we are able, we should keep moving. We ca

Uriah and Andrew carefully move Chris onto the stretcher. My heart sticks in my throat. I’ve never seen Chris down and out. Ever. Not like this.

“He’s going to be okay,” Vera says.

A gesture of comfort? I look at her, smiling sadly.

“I know,” I whisper.

The night air is a crisp, welcome change from the sweltering confines of the crashed copter. We’re surrounded by trees on all sides.

“Where are we?” I say.

“Looks like a park,” Andrew replies. “If we move, we can hide before Omega arrives in full force.”

“Okay, we’re all accounted for,” I say. “We move, we stay hidden, and we work our way back to the rendezvous point to meet with Derek and his team. I want men on point and men on the flank. I want a rear guard.” I point to two of the stronger militiamen — tall, burly soldiers. “You carry the stretcher.”

I brush the hair away from Chris’s forehead. He’s burning up.

We start moving. There is no time to waste.

“How did you find him?” I ask quietly.

“Ask yourself a question,” Ma

“Possibly,” I reply.

“When we were moving into the Holding Center,” Ma

“I thought you were dead.”

“But I wasn’t.” He winks. “They were moving Young into the chopper. Harry, too, but I didn’t see him. I got the feeling that they were transporting him somewhere…more important.”

“Why would they transport one officer with a District Prefect?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they think Chris is worth it.”

“No. Harry must have thought it was worth it.” I chew on my bottom lip. “God, Ma

“Hijacking a helicopter was a piece of cake when Omega’s attention was on you,” Ma

It’s a statement that’s meant to cheer me up. I don’t feel cheerful. Not yet.

I only feel sweet, complete relief.

Chris is here. He’s still alive.

As we push forward through the city park, the distant echo of sirens is audible. Omega is searching for us, and that is exactly what we had expected. They will find the helicopter — a hulking, melted mass of metal — and hopefully assume that we are dead.

If Derek can meet us at our rendezvous point within the next twenty-four hours, we will have survived this thing with almost all of our team intact.

Like Andrew said, we can only hope.

Sometimes I think even that is a little too optimistic.

Beverly Hills, California, is no longer a celebrity city. It’s the dwelling place of high-ranking Omega officials. The houses have been taken over by soldiers and patrols. The entire glitzy neighborhood is under control.

We are careful to avoid it.

On our way to the rendezvous point, we pass famous streets like Wilshire Boulevard and Sunset Boulevard. Once swanky apartment buildings where only the elite lived are either being occupied by Omega officials or abandoned altogether. Millions of Milkshakes, a celebrity dessert hotspot, is empty. The windows have been blown out. Only the memory remains.

The famed Beverly Hills sign — which, for as long as I can remember, sat in the midst of a green lawn in the middle of the city — is covered with graffiti and smudge marks.

Nothing has escaped Omega’s devastating presence.