Arlo Read online

  Arlo

  The Ember Quest, Volume 4

  Arcadia Shield

  Published by Arcadia Shield, 2017.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  ARLO

  First edition. December 15, 2017.

  Copyright © 2017 Arcadia Shield.

  Written by Arcadia Shield.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24 | Jude

  Chapter 1

  Arlo Ember should feel nervous. Laid out in front of him was ten pounds of nanofuel thermobaric explosives. If he hit the wrong button or got distracted, all he’d leave behind would be a smoking pile of ashes.

  He grinned to himself as he did a final check on the bombs. As a former bomb disposal engineer in the British Army, he was used to handling dangerous, unstable things. And since the State had taken over, his skills had come to the fore. He’d gotten a lot of practice in making things go boom.

  The alleyway he’d hidden in was deserted, the street outside quiet. Late evening shadows hid him from any State patrols or people stupid enough to break State curfew rules.

  “Have you got enough detonators?” Mary Rusby crouched next to him. A slender woman in her late-fifties with a shock of gray hair and a liking for patterned headscarves, Mary was Arlo’s right-hand woman. Well, right-hand hybrid; half-dragon and half-human. Ever since she’d been rescued from a State-run prison, she’d stuck by Arlo, learning everything she could about the art of bomb-making. She was an asset to him. He’d felt on his own for too long. Although looking at Mary, you wouldn’t imagine she liked destroying things. Every time she got a bomb in her hands, her eyes gleamed. Mary loved destruction as much as Arlo.

  “I’m fine for detonators.” Arlo scraped a hand over his cropped, dark hair. They’d been interfering with State communication links for the last month. Ever since they’d obtained information about crucial State-run locations—their hybrid testing facilities and communication hubs—they’d been disorienting the State, disrupting their ruthless efforts to cull anyone who stood against them.

  And, although they couldn’t be certain, Arlo and his brothers, along with many at the bunker they lived in underground in Old London, were convinced the State used communication links to keep the population hypnotized. It happened when the State first came to power, wiping out the monarchy, killing the dragons who kept the planet stable, and annihilating anyone who questioned them. That was why Arlo and Mary were here, on the outskirts of Old London, about to blow up a communications center.

  It was all thanks to Arlo’s older brother Jude, an all-round expert when it came to communication devices. He’d devised a theory that the public messages aired daily by the mysterious leader of the State, Emperor Endrir, contained subliminal messaging. That messaging kept the population subdued. You couldn’t question your leader if you didn’t know anything was wrong.

  To test that theory, Arlo had been out on half a dozen missions, along with Mary and some backup shooters, to see if disturbing communication links helped wake up the population and make them see the truth behind State lies. So far, the results had been mixed.

  This was their final test, though. Their next target would be bigger. That would give them definite proof, either way, that the messages were the problem.

  “The last drone passed thirty seconds ago,” whispered Mary. “It’ll be another two minutes before any more fly by.”

  “That gives us time to plant the bombs and get out of here,” said Arlo. “Are you ready?”

  “As if you even need to ask, boy.” Mary gave his arm an affectionate pat.

  He grinned at her. Even though they were surrounded by explosives and risking their lives, she still looked after him like a mother would.

  Well, maybe like a grandmother would. His own mother had been high up in the military and was killed alongside his father in the first wave of attacks by the State. Arlo had never known his grandparents but imagined it wouldn’t be so terrible to have had a grandmother like Mary.

  He lifted his wrist comm device to his mouth. “We’re ready to move.”

  “We’re covering you,” said Lincoln, who was stationed on the top of the building opposite Arlo and Mary’s location.

  “It’s clear on the communication channels,” said Jude from his seat back in the communications room in their underground bunker.

  “We’re good to go,” said Arlo. He glanced at Mary and raised his eyebrows. “Make sure you keep up with me. If you get any slower, I’ll think you’re past it and have to get myself a younger model.”

  “You cheeky thing.” She swatted his arm. “I can keep up with you and anyone half my age. My dragon side will not let me curl up with a pipe and slippers just yet.”

  And she was right about that. As Arlo and his brothers learned more about the dragon hybrids who’d been joining their resistance fight over the last months, they discovered they aged at a slower rate than humans, had better healing powers, and their blood was remarkable at healing others. It meant battle injuries could heal in hours rather than weeks. Because of this, Arlo felt they were finally getting the upper hand against the State.

  He handed Mary three bombs. “And you never let me forget how fit you are for an old girl.”

  “A few wrinkles and some gray hair aren’t enough to slow me down.” She took the bombs, clipping each of them to a customized belt around her waist. There were a dozen clips on the belt, each one supporting the weight of a two-pound bomb. Mary loved nothing more than walking around, armed to the teeth, ready to take out anyone in the State who crossed her path. She’d yet to forgive them for taking her captive and trying to exploit her.

  Arlo took a deep breath, sensing dampness in the air. He checked the sky and frowned. It felt like he hadn’t had the sun on his skin for an age. He either spent time in his workshop building more bombs or out on the recon missions, gathering supplies of weapons and medicine for everyone else in the bunker. He wasn’t alone in doing this. There were over four thousand people in the bunker. It almost felt crowded at times, so different from when they first started their fight against the State eighteen months ago. But he never felt like there was enough time to do it all. Never enough people able to help. Sometimes, the tasks seemed endless.

  “After this, we’ll have a nice cup of coffee,” said Mary, seeming to sense his need for a break. “This is our third run this week. Danni must give us some downtime soon.”

  “She’ll give us about five minutes of downtime if we beg her.” Dannielle Hannigan was the bunker’s leader, a former military specialist known for her no-nonsense attitude and desire for hard work from everyone. Arlo admired her, although she sometimes scared the shit out of him when she shouted.

  “We’ll see about that,” said Mary. “I’m not having my boy run into the ground.”

  Arlo flashed his eyebrows at Mary. “I’m yours now, am I?”

  Mary snorted. “You know what I mean. It’s always good to have someone looking out for you.”

  Arlo grinned to himself. He liked Mary looking out for him. It felt like a long time since a
nyone had done that. He had his brothers and loved the hell out of them, but they had their own issues and distractions. Most of them were getting coupled up. Heath was with Annie, Kade was with Honor, and recently, the romeo of the group, Lincoln, had fallen hard for a feisty dragon hybrid. It made Arlo pause, wonder when it would be his turn.

  He shook his head, his fingers tracing over the jagged scar that ran across the left side of his jaw. He was a mess. Nothing like Lincoln, with his green eyes and flirty talk, which made women go weak at the knees. Not that Lincoln did that anymore. And, if he ever attempted to, Anastasia could quite literally burn his face off with her abilities.

  No, bombing and destruction were what Arlo was good at. And he needed to keep getting better, to make sure he kept his family and everyone in the bunker safe. He hadn’t always succeeded in keeping people safe, and the memories haunted him.

  He did one final check of the street. It was clear. He beckoned Mary to follow him, and they raced to the building opposite. The sign outside the front of the store said Vax Media. It was the name given to all State-authorized communication hubs.

  “Are we still good?” Arlo checked in with the others through the comms link.

  “The street’s still clear,” said Lincoln.

  “There’s no incoming traffic,” said Jude. “No one is talking about you over the comms channels.”

  That was good. “Mary, you take the right side. I’ll handle the left,” said Arlo.

  She nodded before hurrying away from him, a bomb already in hand.

  He watched her leave and then activated the first bomb, humming under his breath as he did so. He stuck the bomb to the wall using dual magnet casing and limpet pins. Arlo enjoyed having a partner to work with, but this was strictly a friend-only partnership. His thoughts flashed to a certain dragon hybrid he’d met months ago on a mission in the Badlands, and his humming stopped.

  Juniper Firestar. Now there was a woman he wouldn’t mind having as a partner. She’d sassed him constantly when they’d worked together, not taking any nonsense from him or his brothers. Juniper was also hell on wheels when they’d ridden into the Black Zone together, brought down a State-run prison, and then escaped. And, for a time, Arlo had thought she’d stay in the bunker and join them in their fight. And she had, for a month. But then she’d left quietly one night. Juniper hadn’t even said goodbye. He’d heard a rumor she couldn’t stand being underground, stuck in a confined space with other people. He understood that, but it still bit that she hadn’t bothered to tell him she was leaving. Arlo had thought of Juniper as a friend. More than a friend. But he must have been mistaken. She had only been humoring him.

  He set the second bomb onto the wall. Most women didn’t mind the scar on his face. They said it gave him character. However, they weren’t so keen on the fact he’d wake some nights, drenched in sweat, his fists clenched and his heart racing. One woman even said he’d scared her. He hadn’t meant to. Sometimes, nightmares just got him like that.

  Arlo had also noticed sympathetic glances from other women, those who didn’t know his background and made up their own theories. Their ideas about him could be right, not that he cared what anyone thought. If they didn’t want him, then he didn’t want them. Juniper had never mentioned his scar. She also hadn’t spent any time in his bed, so he had no clue what she’d think about his weird night-time habits. But he’d wanted to find out. He’d wanted her in his bed. She’d gone before he’d gotten the chance to tempt her.

  The final bomb was activated. Arlo took a deep breath, and a foul taste lodged in the back of his throat. Something around here stank. It was like rancid meat that had been attacked by flies. He looked over to see Mary placing her final bomb on the building.

  He checked the way was still clear before taking a few steps along the street. The stench intensified. What the hell had the State been doing around here to create such a stink?

  As Arlo turned the corner, he stumbled, his hand reaching for the railing next to him. In front of him was a death wall. The State strung up individuals who rebelled against them. It was a way the State showed their strength, giving a clear message that if you went against them, this would be your end.

  Arlo had heard of public ceremonies where people were forced to stand in front of these death walls and inspect the unfortunates who were strung up. It was a way to remind them of what would happen if they disobeyed the rules of the State.

  There were twelve people hanging from this wall. Their bodies were hideously bloated and discolored, pools of rancid filth below their legs where they’d kicked out their last dying breaths.

  He swallowed against the sickness he felt. He was sure two of the bodies were women. A hand touched his elbow, and Arlo jumped. Mary stood behind him, tears in her eyes.

  “They are monsters.” Her words came out hoarse.

  He nodded. Occasionally, Arlo forgot how tough and dangerous this life really was. He always laughed and joked with the others, but then something like this smacked him around the head. He had a life, back at the bunker, with his brothers. Arlo even included Mary as a part of his family now. And he lived to fight. He always had. Although, more recently, it was colored with a sense of despair with all the lives that had been lost and the friends who had died.

  “Is everything okay down there?” Lincoln’s voice sounded over the comms.

  “Just getting an unpleasant reminder as to why we’re doing this,” said Arlo. “We’re good.”

  “When you get back, we’re taking a trip to the Down and Out,” said Jude. “It’s been a while since we’ve been there. McGinty’s got a new batch of imported ale. It sounds dodgy, but I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

  “Where did he import it from?” asked Lincoln. “Someone’s home still?”

  Jude laughed. “Most likely from his own damp cellar.”

  “That sounds like headache-inducing fun,” said Lincoln. “I’ll see if Honor is free. What do you reckon, Arlo?”

  “Another time,” said Arlo, his gaze still on the death wall. He turned away, taking Mary with him.

  “Come on,” said Lincoln. “It’s been ages since we’ve all been out together. You need to let your hair down.”

  “Or find a woman to help you loosen up,” said Jude.

  “You’re a good one to talk,” muttered Arlo. “All you do is lust over Octavia.”

  “She’s got a lustful sort of voice.”

  “You’ve never even met her,” said Arlo. “She could be eighty with a false leg.”

  “And has teeth she takes out at night,” said Lincoln. “And maybe a glass eye.”

  “It’s what’s inside that counts,” muttered Jude.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a mature woman,” said Mary. “I’m sure if Octavia is an older woman, she’d be able to teach all of you a thing or two.”

  Some of the tension left Arlo’s shoulders as they walked farther from the death wall. “I bet she could. And I know for sure Jude would want to learn a few tricks from Octavia.”

  “You see! I know I’m onto something good when it comes to Octavia.” Jude’s tone brightened.

  “You’re setting yourself up for a fall,” said Lincoln. “For all we know, she could be a secret agent working for the State.”

  “Her information is too good for that,” said Jude.

  “That’s exactly my point,” said Lincoln. “Octavia knows too much about State movements. And, more worryingly, ours.”

  “If she was going to pass on information about what we do to the State, she’d have done so by now,” said Jude. “Octavia is a good woman.”

  “You’d like to make her your woman,” said Arlo. “That’s just weird. How can you fall in love with a voice?”

  “I didn’t say I was in love,” said Jude. “Anyway, weren’t we talking about you and your lack of bedroom action?”

  “I’m not interested.” Arlo’s thoughts jumped back to Juniper, and he shoved them away. Bombs and women didn’t mix.


  “You need to get out of there.” Jude’s tone turned serious. “Lincoln, check their six. You’ve got a fast-moving vehicle coming your way.”

  “I’m on it,” said Lincoln.

  Arlo’s pace increased as he hurried Mary back to the alleyway and toward the bike they’d used to bring them to the site. He could handle himself in a firefight, but bombs were his preferred method of attack. He also didn’t want to risk Mary getting harmed, although she had a nifty way with a fireball when she needed to.

  “How long until detonation?” asked Jude.

  Arlo checked the countdown clock on his wrist. “Two minutes.”

  “Shouldn’t you have left by now?”

  “You know I like to see my handiwork in action.” Arlo handed Mary a helmet before placing one on his head.

  “And risk getting yourself killed every time,” said Lincoln. “I’ve got the vehicle in my sights.”

  “Is it state militia?” asked Arlo as he swung his leg over the bike. Mary climbed on behind him.

  “Yes. A single vehicle,” said Lincoln. “Maybe you weren’t as discreet as you thought you were.”

  “Or maybe the building is being monitored,” said Jude. “Since you blew up the last place, there’s been chatter online about upping security. Looks like they’ve done just that.”

  “We saw no cameras,” said Arlo as he slid the bike toward the alleyway exit.

  “Even so, they know you’re there,” said Jude. “It’s time to leave.”

  “Just a second.” Arlo switched on the remote detonator and adjusted the time down by thirty seconds.

  “Get out of there!” said Jude. “If you leave it any longer, they’ll catch you.”

  “I have a plan,” said Arlo, excitement trickling down his spine.

  Lincoln groaned. “Is it time to duck?”

  “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said all night.” Arlo risked a glance out into the street and saw a flash of militia headlights as they turned the corner.

  “Arlo! Get out of there. Now.” It was Heath, their unofficial group leader. He sounded pissed.