Page 113 of Green Ravens

Zorion stopped mid-step, his bow half-drawn.

Valor eased up beside him, narrowing his eyes.

“Jo,” he rasped, “we’ve got company. I think we just found more Ravens.”

Static, then, “What? Where?”

“White Sector 30,” Valor said. “Holding chamber. Two figures. Silent, alert…waiting. Something might be off…”

Jo’s tone sharpened. “Get them out of there. Bring them to me.”

Valor glanced at the keypad. No code. No palm scanner. Just a black panel that might as well have been a laptop screen.

Zorion selected the right arrow and fired.

A fine flash of light and acid ate through the handle and panel. The smell of scorched chemicals saturated the air, and the door creaked open.

Zorion managed a single step forward before one of them shot forward and slammed into Valor’s midsection with enough force to send him crashing back into the wall.

Zorion barely saw the second one before he was already on him. Their white cloaks whipped around them as they moved.

He countered the first strike with the heel of his bow, but the next came from underneath, sweeping both legs from under him and sending him to the ground head first.

Zorion scurried backward, but these two anomalies were too fast and smooth, as if they’d been planning this exact moment for years and had it down to perfection.

“Jo,” Valor growled. “They attacked. The white ones are hostile.”

“Shit? Defensive tactics only!” she barked.

Zorion ducked another spinning elbow and countered with a twist of his bow, trying to trap the attacker’s legs. He missed.

His opponent pivoted in midair like gravity meant nothing.

Valor rose behind him, claws flexed and ready, but the first figure was already moving.

With the fluidity of dancers, they did a joint spin kick, both heels connecting with Valor’s jaw with such brutality he spun twice before he dropped to the floor.

Then they ran.

Before he and Valor even got to their feet, the white blurs were almost to the end of the hall.

“They got past us.” Zorion took aim with a taser arrow.

“No, don’t shoot them!” Valor yelled, rotating his jaw as if checking to be sure it wasn’t broken. “They believe this is their last shot at freedom.”

Zorion could understand that. He slung his bow behind his back as they sprinted after their ghosts.

I have a feeling this is a bad idea.

Chief Styles Sawyer

Zorion

The white-cloaked figures moved with unfathomable speed, legs moving as if they were mechanical. They never looked back, but the one taking up the rear was close enough to whisper orders.

“Bank left. Hard right in four. Ninety-degree left…now. Stairwell door, two meters.”

The one in front adjusted with perfection, pivoting at exact angles, skipping three and four steps at a time as they climbed the remaining floors with almost supernatural grace.

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