Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
“The Metro?”
Irving was staring at Tommy and Blake with a look that could only be described as irritated indifference. He was sitting at his desk, pen in hand, as he took notes on what looked a lot like a magnetized Washington Monument. Tommy wilted under his scrutiny.
His eyes flicked up to Gabriel, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I barely understood it the first time.”
Blake found himself biting back a comment that would get him that look Irving had. The one that always made him feel like chewed-up gum stuck under his wheels. Tommy had been so excited when he told Blake his plan, fingers shaking as he pointed out points of entry on the map.
The same map Irving had barely even glanced at.
“It’s a good plan,” Blake seethed. “You’re just pissed you didn’t think of it first.”
Gabriel turned his snort into a cough, rubbing his lips with the back of his hand. Irving pursed his lips before gesturing to the map. “Tell me again.”
When Tommy hesitated, Blake elbowed him. “Tell him, Tofu. Use small words so he can follow along this time.”
It was the lowest of blows, and it didn’t really land. Everyone in the room knew that Irving’s intellect was without question. But sometimes he got so into his head, so arrogant, that he didn’t bother to listen.
Tommy’s throat clicked. “Well, um, like I said before, my dad and grandpa were both electrical engineers. They worked on the DC Metro system. Taught me all about it and I…” he trailed off, his hands running over the map.
To anyone outside of regular travelers, the DC Metro map looked like a bad Microsoft Paint project.
It was thick lines of primary colors with interspersing white dots for stations and stops.
To Blake, the Metro was a living thing. One you had to experience to understand.
He couldn’t remember ever looking at the frayed maps tacked to the walls. But Tommy did.
“The lines were built in the sixties and seventies, powered by a third rail system carrying roughly seven hundred and fifty volts, DC—”
“I know how the Metro works,” Irving interrupted him.
Gabriel’s knuckles cracked with how hard he clenched them, but Blake held out his hand. This was Tommy’s fight; they were just spectators.
Tommy’s delicate upturned nose wrinkled. Blake had to fight back a grin. He loved bitchy Tommy.
“Power for the Metro comes from traction power substations spaced about one mile apart. Most of these stations are run by computers, but they still have components for manual use.” He let that sink in. “Which means that as long as the rails are physically intact, we can use them.”
“But with what power?” Gabriel asked. “The EMP fried everything.”
Tommy nodded. “Right. But if the infrastructure is in place, we can use diesel generators to provide the power.”
“That would be enough?”
“Yes. Like I said, the substations are only a mile apart. We don’t have to power the whole city, just a single section.”
Irving steepled his fingers. “What about an arc flash?”
“What about it?” Tommy snapped. “We use it. It might blow the system, might turn the Off Formers into toxic sludge. Either way, it’s a win.”
The skeptical silence was quickly turning into contemplation. Irving’s brows were furrowed as Gabriel pulled the Metro map up.
“How do we get them into the Metro tunnels?” Blake asked.
“We don’t need to,” Tommy answered, spinning the map to face him.
He followed one of the lines with his finger.
“I can extend cabling from the third rail to the street above. All we’d need to do is lay a grounded circuit down on the street—broken third rail segments, copper busbars, or anything steel.
Asphalt is an insulator, so as long as we clear the kill zone, it’ll be safe for humans. ”
He held Irving’s eye. “Electricity isn’t picky. If we can move the charge, we can weaponize it.”
Gabriel winked at Blake. “Like a homemade taser.”
“A really fucking big one.”
“Size matters.”
“You would know.”
Tommy gagged. “As endearing as it is to see you’ve managed to dislodge the stick-up Blake’s ass, can you stop flirting in front of me?”
With a raised eyebrow, Blake leaned into Tommy’s face. “I will sit on his dick while maintaining uncomfortable levels of eye contact, so help me—”
“Enough!” Irving threw his hands in the air. “All of you, out! Except you, Thomas. We have a lot to discuss.”
Bitchy Tommy turned into panicked Tommy the moment he realized Gabriel and Blake were leaving him behind. Blake flipped him a middle-fingered salute as Gabriel dragged him out of the office.
The rain had let up, and the lobby was mostly empty. One of the books Blake lent Sara was missing, and he hoped she was holed up somewhere with it. Hopefully, somewhere far away from Victoria and Judd.
“Do you think it’s possible?” Gabriel asked, looking over his shoulder at Irving’s office.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said confidently. “Tommy has never let anyone down in his life, and he isn’t going to start now.”
And Blake believed it. He didn’t believe in very much, but he believed in Tommy.
Gabriel slung an arm around Blake’s shoulders and pulled him in, kissing his temple. Blake leaned into him, breathing in Gabriel’s damp scent.
Who were they to say what was possible? A year ago, he thought he was an unlovable straight man, and aliens were just another overmilked Hollywood cash cow.
Now he was making meth in a motel parking lot, making love to a hot man, and planning the best way to weaponize the DC Metrorail to kill off a faction of extraterrestrials using Earth as a battleground.
Blake’s definition of ‘possible’ had changed.
Gravel crunched under his arms as Blake low crawled across a roof. His muscles ached, back screaming as he did his best to stay flat. He could feel grit smeared across his cheeks.
Ahead of him, Gabriel and Victoria were already posted at the small wall around the edge of the building. Victoria was leaning against the wall, her pair of binoculars just barely peering above it.
The breeze kissed his sweaty skin, and he took a moment to enjoy it. Gabriel had forced him to wear his plate carrier, and the extra weight was dragging. It was too big and dug into his neck, but he hadn’t protested putting it on. It had once made him feel like a badass.
Now it just made him feel like a turtle.
“There’s adequate space,” Victoria said, her voice so low Blake almost missed it.
Gabriel hummed, taking the binoculars from her and scanning the street. He finished his pass by the time Blake joined them. He tried to keep his breathing even so they wouldn’t know just how pathetic he was.
It was the first time he’d been back to the city since the Insulin mission.
The drive had felt claustrophobic in a way the city never had before.
Blake wouldn’t say he had any kind of affinity for concrete jungles, but he’d never minded back then.
It was loud, but he could also get a taco at three am, so it evened out.
But now it felt stifling. The hairs on the back of his neck were constantly tickling, sure that every nook and shadow was a hiding spot for evil. Where the Potomac View Motel had bed bugs and cheap sheets, the city seemed insidious, like the buildings were looming over them, watching. Waiting.
He had tried to keep his flinching to a minimum, but Gabriel had noticed. His big hand squeezed Blake’s thigh, and he’d focused on that. Like a focal point to keep him from jumping out of his skin.
Now they were sitting on top of a squat brick building that looked like it used to be a community center. The fire escape had been in decent shape, and they’d made quick work once they split up from Phin, Judd, and Tommy.
On a recon mission, Alvarez had suggested these coordinates for their final showdown.
Two blocks to the east, there was a Metro stop.
From street level, it looked like a concrete set of stairs to nowhere, with gum-riddled handrails and the stink of damp.
But underneath it was in good shape, at least according to Tommy.
He was scoping out the power substation, making sure the mechanical components hadn’t been destroyed, and then working to bypass the fried electricalsystems so they could rig up some kind of extra-large extraterrestrial bug zapper.
Judd had some decent hands-on experience from working on the farm and a mechanics course he took with the army, and he was helping. According to Tommy, Judd was also not worried about spiders and sticking his hand in dark fuse boxes.
Phin was with them because he couldn’t stand to have Tommy out of arm’s reach. Even if he’d rather rip out his own tongue than admit it.
Which left the remaining members of Team Oh Shit to scope out the street.
And that would have been fine, Blake was good at that, but they were uncomfortably close to the vet clinic.
Irving said they needed to stay in that area because it was the last known location of the Queen. If the Monkey Cats weren’t moving her, it was best to lure the Off Formers here. That way, all teams would be in the same area for communication and extraction.
Upon hearing that, Judd had made a face, saying he’d give his left nut for a walkie-talkie. Phin told him it wasn’t a fair trade. They’d knocked over two tables in the scuffle.
Fingers digging into the brick, Blake looked over the half-wall and tried not to look too closely at the details. Which would probably be fine for anyone else. But for him, impossible.
He could see the charred marks from the car he’d lost Sara and her mom behind. The small alley where he’d watched the woman give her life. His throat tightened up as he remembered her turning the corner, dragging her leg, and the Off Former twisting to aim down its gun at her.
It was probably quick.
Shaking his head, he tried to focus on what Gabriel and Victoria were saying.
“There’s enough debris on the east side, but we’ve got some holes to plug on the west.” Victoria pointed to the large openings in alleyways and destroyed buildings.