He intended to take them along to the border, whether to sell them, to ransom them, or torture them. Leverage my ass. She didn’t want to find out. Juniper’s battered body felt every bruise and strain in her muscles flaring, every time the van hopped with the rhythm of their path.
At the very least, It has given her some time to breathe, to let [Slow Regeneration]
She peered through the metal gaps of the soldered window, glimpsing into the moonlight–soft, but it touched her through the glass, its glow settling on her. Not even the closed window kept it from reaching her. A small pulse of energy stirred within her, replenishing her strength bit-by-bit.
It still wasn’t a replacement for glucose or carbs.
[Juniper, listen to my advice.]
Sys-chan's voice slipped through her thoughts, her eerie egocentrism halted and dead. Caldera smirked at her, his lips pulling at the edges of his half-charred face
[About Technic Pyrokinetism.]
She listened.
[You understand how it works, don’t you?]
Yes. It's more crafty than anything destructive, It can only manipulate flames that are produced.
[Exactly. That fat ring on his finger—it’s an anchor. Without it, he has no control.]
She shivered. The cold weight of heavy steel pressed against her skull. It had been a threat since she entered. But the gunman shifted uncontrollably. If she made one wrong move, her brain would be splattered on the floor.
[The opportunity will present itself. Remember—mimicry only works if the user is physically out of it, or if their mind is weaker than yours. And Caldera? His lunacy is a mask. Press him, and he will break apart.]
So she had to wait? Bide her time?
[Yes, then, when the moment comes—spark his little finger. Burn him with his own power.]
Juniper's mind spun through the numbers, the risks, and how fast she should move from the barrel at what angle and what time. How far could she take the risk before she gave in, her ear, her neck, or her skull?
[You can wield two abilities at once. I know it wrecks you. I know what it does to your body when you’re tired. But you have to endure. One last time.]
Her fingers curled into a fist. It’s do or die. And she’d be damned if she let a piece of garbage like Caldera get away with it.
[I know you're at your wit’s end, but I have never lost faith in you. Even through your anger, hold on to something real. Elysium chose you for a reason. And yes—it was predetermined by time. But look up. Luna has given you her favor. Your siblings will be fine.]
Juniper exhaled sharply. Staring at the moon one last time.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Caldera’s grin widened, and his head titled. “For what, exactly, Juniper?”
She didn’t answer.
Then the van lurched to a sudden stop. The engine stopped making a racket, dying and settling into the cold. The tires screech against the dusty fields. Outside, her heavy boots trampled against gravel. Someone was moving really fast.
Caldera motioned a silent command to his gunman. He obeyed, pulling open the door, slow but with deliberate motion. Night air seeped inside, potent dust infiltrated the van, Juniper scrunched up her nose as it entered her nasal system,
A masked man climbed inside, covered with rugged and rough rags and scarves. He moved sharply, controlled, with intent. A pistol, dangling in his hands, finger, close to the trigger. In his hand, he was clutching a crumpled-up scroll, the paper creasing from his twitchy fingers.
“The route, out.” Caldera said impatient.
“Money first, or no deal.” the smuggler said, his voice tight, unreadable. He had an accident, likely originating from Baja California below or east from Sonora.
Caldera smiled brightly, nodding. Then he reached into his pocket, retrieving something solid–heavy, and golden. His fingers hesitated like he struggled to part with it. The gunman at the door tensed up, moving his gun away from Juniper and onto the chart smuggler. A silent warning.
[Not yet. Annemarie could be vulnerable as you are now.]
She had another body to worry about.
She let Sys-chan's words settle, it unnerved her that she wasn’t displaying her bubbly personality, she had grown accustomed to it. At any rate, she waited…
Caldera passed the slab, studying the man before him. “I wonder what man lies beneath all those wrapped cloths.” His other hand, moved unseen, but Juniper heard it all the same, It was concealed, his pistol– aiming its iron barrel onto her back.
The smuggler hesitated. His hands started trembling. He started sweating down his face. He looked at Juniper briefly, her eyes meeting his, they were golden, she’d find it beautiful if he wasn’t some criminal creep.
“Libérate de las cadenas que te atan, hermana.” he said to her. She didn’t know what it meant, but liberate sounded very much like liberty, and liberty meant freedom.
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“She’s no prisoner, friend.” Caldera said anxiously.
Whether it was her suit, the gun pressed against her back, her battered body–he knew neither of them shouldn’t have been here.
Caldera sneered. “You’re wasting my time.” He threw the gold bar on the floor of the Van.
The smuggler hesitated. He snatched it, forcing the crumpled paper into Caldera’s hand. He motioned but turned his head to Juniper. Then bolted.
“If you lied to me,” Caldera called after him, his voice dripping venom, “When I find you I will personally scorch your balls off!”
The smuggler didn’t stop. His feet sprinted over the mini dunes.
The gunman exhaled beneath his mask, he sounded tired. The barrel found its way back inside her face, staring her down. She turned back to Caldera.
She closed her eyes while listening. His footsteps were fading fast, swallowed by the semidesert. Caldera sniffed in the air.
Her captor frowned…
“Untrustworthy fellow, Something smells foul…” He rapped his knuckles near the driver’s seat, impatient. “Hurry it up. I want to be out of this City state before tomorrow.”
The van lurched forward, tires screaming against the sand. Dust stormed through the open door, thick, suffocating, it assaulted her throat. She coughed violently.
The silent gunman slammed the door shut. The darkness of the night swallowed them whole. She pressed herself against the cold metal of the van, peering through the opposite window, staring and waiting.
Twin headlights illuminated the ground through the dust, the other van, inside several figures shifted in the darkness.
She saw beyond the Van’s looming light, behind the other window, The big hired guard, standing in front of him, Annemarie's head peeking out, just barely.
Juniper’s chest tightened. Annemarie had gone through with the plan, for her sake, she didn’t need to, it was always against how she fought. But not just for Juniper’s sake. Not for revenge. But for her siblings—for the sliver of hope that they might still live, and that Caldera hadn't already done the deed…
Juniper had been wrong about her. She needed to make things right.
[Now isn’t the time for such thoughts. Don’t imagine hypothetically that you couldn’t possibly go off, focus on the task at hand.]
The system’s voice was steady, grounding. Even she switched up for her sake.
She clenched her jaw.
Caldera slumped against the steel wall, eyes hooded moving around, he was murmuring to himself, he was fidgeting, he was nervous. She wondered if the Sewer had been raided yet. Perhaps someone would know to pursue to rescue them.
Caldera started swelling in his own nonsensical monologue, ripping her from her thoughts.
“This city should never have existed,” he muttered, then turned his gaze to her, his half-charred face twisting in something almost reverent. He gave her a warm smile.
“People think the world just is—like an unchangeable fact. But it takes someone willing to break it down and rebuild it right.” His voice smoldered with self-righteous fervor. “I wanted to be that catalyst. The changing of the guard. But they left me. Abandoned me in my hour of need.”
Who were ? Seriously, who were these abandoning turncoats?
[More villains, perhaps. Just keep your eye on that device. He could snap at any moment and remotely detonate it.]
Juniper winced.
How could she forget?
The only reason she was here, the only reason she didn’t beat him into the ground. She messed up and got her siblings involved.
A sudden jolt rocked the van. Caldera’s fingers twitched over the device. It nearly slipped from his grasp.
Juniper dropped a sweat.
[Wakey, Wakey]
She nearly jumped forward–on pure instinct.
The van hit another deep rut, and for a moment, they were briefly lifted from their seats by a few millimeters, bodies weightless, and then gravity brought them down.
There was something strange to it, normally a bump like that shouldn’t be effective.
“
“Yes, boss,” the man grunted. “Unless his directions were a lie. There’s a tunnel downhill—our way out of the open…”
She turned her head at the driver. It was the first time she’d heard one of his men speak coherently. Or perhaps these men were of a different stock.
The walls of the van rattled, and minuscule things like boxes and small objects flew in the air, vibrating.
She was sure of it now, Annemarie had a play in it. Juniper lacked her control and understanding. But her fingers were all over it. The gravity had been altered slightly and silently.
Caldera’s fingers-his bloody fingers-tightened around his little failsafe.
Juniper didn’t think.
She lunged.
She exploded.
The pent-up sunlight she gathered, gathered in her center and then expanded violently with solar heat. She did it differently, like Emery did. The gunman lost his footing, panicking, a gunshot went off crackling and ricocheting inside the van.
The bullet went past her head and through the driver's window. She snatched the comm from his fragile little hands. His grip loosened.
Then surging with a burst of [Iron drive]
His eyes went wide.
“You fool. I simply need to call on a com-”
She shoved her balled fist in his face, rocking him in a daze.
She grabbed him by the face. He was shouting, muffled, but furious. His breath was hot against his face. Then she blasted him point-blank.
Light flared in her palms, searing into his face.
He screamed.
Forced his way out of her grasp, he clutched his face in agony. His rage overpowered his pain. He snarled at her, punching his fist into her gut. She doubled over, her air ripped away from her lungs. But she forced herself upright. No hesitation. No weakness. Not here.
The driver peaked behind, not knowing if he was supposed to stop or continue driving.
His finger snapped towards his ring, it flickered open. A small ember, a flame coming to life–no larger than the width of a pointed candle. Then he snapped it again. The fire grew, leaping towards her, stretching unnaturally, aiming straight for her chest.
Juniper met it head-on. Snapped her own fingers. In response. [Technic Pyrokinetism.]
The flames sparked backward, what had been controlled turned into a deadly whirlwind, of uncontrollable fire. The blaze touched his face. He reeled back, screaming as the fire ate at him, licking his, already burned, face. His own fire, feeding on himself.
His face contorted into disbelief. “What the hell?! When the fuck did you steal it?!”
Juniper gritted her teeth. Manipulating was one thing, controlling it without experience was a game of tug-of-war.
The gunman stirred behind, shuffling.
Simultaneously tapping into [Iron Drive] [Gravitational Distortion].
The vehicle lurched, and she heard one of the tires burst.
Caldera fell on his ass. Then stood up, lunging at her, as he regained his balance, he came swinging at her with raw fury. His fist met her face–she snapped to the side–but it was not enough with [Iron drive]
She countered. Burying her fists in his ribs.
Crack!
His body slammed against the Van wall. The driver shouted in panic, his hand twitching over the wheel, he was losing control of the vehicle, and he didn’t know whether to turn back or to fight.
She turned on the gunman, He shot at her but misfired, due to being unbalanced. She slapped his gun away, sending it across the van floor. A knock to the stomach sent him reeling over the ground. She pivoted to Caldera, gripping his wrist.
He winced.
Her fingers tight.
She slipped the ring from his finger. It clung stubbornly to his skin–way too tight- but she twisted hard. Something snapped, maybe his finger.
“You bitch!”
She didn’t care. The ring was hers now.
It was too big for her hand, but she used it anyway. She flicked it like a lighter, and fire erupted.
It exploded, a chain reaction uncontrolled, wild. The van's interior exploded with the sudden heat. He howled. The flame spread everywhere, they burned everything inside. His clothes ignited, hungry, and the flames devoured the fabric.
She directed it to the best of her will, concentrating on lessening the arc, on him.
She wanted him to . He deserved to .
But—
The driver panicked, and the wheel . The van swerved . Juniper staggered backward. The gunman her from behind, his arms locking around her like iron chains.
Then the air twisted, and the unstable van titled over. She could feel it clearly now. Annemarie's work. She was helping, the van started rolling.
She started levitating, her body hit the roof. And her world spun as metal screamed, the fire died. Then she hit the wall, like an orbital crashing rag doll, the van tumbled downhill rolling and then–
An impact and the world went quiet.
Silence.
And some more Silence.
******
Which cover looks better? This one or the one I put up