Dark Awakening: Echoes of Destiny (The Children Of The Gods #88)

1. The Saboteur

1

THE SABOTEUR

T he whiz of the automatic shutters going up jarred the saboteur awake, and as she looked out the window, she cursed under her breath.

The sky was brightening, the first hints of dawn creeping over the horizon, and the village would be stirring soon.

If she were wise, she would abandon her mission and postpone it to the following night, but she was more driven than wise, and patience was not coded into her genetics. If she didn't complete the task when she'd set out to do so, she would be jittery and irritated until it was done, and that would draw unwanted attention, which could blow her cover.

Besides, even if she did get caught, she could handle whoever witnessed her transgression by forcing them to keep quiet.

Well, it depended on who caught her. Some were more difficult to influence than others.

It would be better to make sure that she didn't get caught.

Slipping out of the house through the sliding door in her bedroom, she swung her backpack over her shoulders and walked out of the backyard through the flimsy gate. Then, she was ducking inside the carefully manicured shrubbery to avoid the cameras posted along the walkways and finding the narrow paths between plants.

She'd mapped out the locations of all the hidden cameras scattered throughout the village and knew them by heart. Each step was calculated, avoiding the cameras' lines of sight and any branches that might snap underfoot. The dew-dampened grass muffled her footsteps, a small mercy in the quiet of early morning.

Her target was a trash incinerator. In the past, they had simply been located in block enclosures between the houses, making them easy targets, but that had recently changed. Now they presented a bigger challenge thanks to William's crew installing surveillance cameras inside the enclosures.

Not that the damn cameras were a serious deterrent for her.

A smirk played on the saboteur's lips as she recalled the hours spent scouring the internet for ways to fool the cameras. She had tested the method she'd learned from a video, and it worked without a hitch.

Perhaps once she'd gotten free of this bastion of virtue-signaling immortals, she would use the method for something more impactful than damaging trash incinerators and electrical automatic blackout shutters.

After all, she would have to find ways to support herself and her band of followers.

Provided that she had followers.

Hopefully, once they learned of her abilities, they would realize how valuable she was to their plans and make her their leader. She could force them, but she didn't want to use her talent on her own people. She wanted them to follow her because they valued her and not because she gave them no choice.

As she made her way to the incinerator she'd marked as her target the day before, the cool morning air nipped at her skin, and the fact that it had even registered was a testament to how spoiled she'd become. Compared to the winters of her childhood, this place was paradise, but the good weather and comfortable living came with a cost that she and some of the others were not willing to pay.

Ducking behind the east wall of the enclosure, the saboteur pulled out a small mirror from her pocket. A mix of excitement and fear coursing through her veins, she cleaned the surface, making sure there were no blemishes on the smooth surface, and angled it carefully so it reflected the camera's view at itself, creating a loop of empty space.

It wasn't perfect, but she only needed it to work for a few seconds. No one would notice anything now, but once the sabotage was discovered, she had no doubt that the Guardians would go over every moment of the camera feed.

The trick had taken hours of practice to perfect, each failure only fueling her determination to succeed.

With swift, practiced movements, she accessed the incinerator's control panel. Her fingers worked quickly, severing some wires and crossing others. The satisfying spark of destruction brought a fleeting sense of accomplishment. For a moment, she allowed herself to admire her handiwork, imagining the chaos it would cause later in the day.

It was a small act of rebellion, but it sent a clear message that not everything in this perfectly constructed world was under their control.

Just as the saboteur was about to slip away, the sound of a door opening nearby froze her in place. She was crouching, half hidden by the bushes, but her hiding place was far from ideal, and she had to stay perfectly still, or the two immortal females who were stepping out the door would hear her.

They were dressed in gym clothes, and she prayed to the Mother of All Life that they intended to jog in the opposite direction. If they were headed to the gym, she was in deep shit. They would walk right by her, and there was a good chance they would see her.

The manicured greenery did not offer enough cover.

Why did the Kra-ell crew assigned to landscaping duty have to be so thorough? They had been sentenced to community service, not awarded a contract with a bonus for a job well done. There was no reason for them to put so much effort into their punishment.

True, those males were alive thanks to the clan's intervention, but then none of them would be here if the clan hadn't decided to 'liberate' them.

Pressed against the ground, she could feel the damp earth seeping through her clothes, and a twig dug painfully into her side, but she didn't dare move to adjust her position. The discomfort was nothing compared to the fear of discovery.

"What a beautiful morning for a run," one of the immortals said as she stretched her calves on the porch of her house.

"Absolutely perfect," said the other. "Though I'm surprised to see you up this early. You came home after two in the morning. Couldn't sleep?"

The saboteur held her breath, willing them to start their run and leave, but to her dismay, the women seemed in no hurry to begin their jog.

"Oh, you know how it is," the first woman said with a laugh. "I had a very energizing night with Hivak."

The other one laughed. "There is nothing like a shot of venom to get you going in the morning."

The saboteur grimaced. Was the Mother punishing her?

It was bad enough that the dampness from the ground was seeping into her bones, that her muscles were screaming in protest at the awkward position, and that an annoying itch had begun to form on her nose, which she had to use every ounce of willpower not to reach up and scratch, she also had to listen to the immortals talking about sex.

Ugh, just go on your run already!

As the two idiots kept blabbering, the sky grew lighter, and the saboteur's anxiety spiked. Soon, more villagers would wake up, making her escape even more difficult or impossible.

Despite the cool morning air, a bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. She could handle one or two witnesses, but not more than that, and if she were caught it would mean the end of everything she had worked for.

Just when she thought she couldn't bear it any longer, the women finally stopped gossiping and started jogging away from her.

The saboteur remained still for several more agonizing moments, ensuring they were far off and no one else was coming her way before allowing herself to move.

Releasing a shaky breath, she extracted herself from the bushes, wincing at the scratch of branches against her skin. Her clothes were damp and dirty, evidence of her close call that she wouldn't be able to hide if confronted.

She had to make it home without anyone seeing her.

As she slunk toward her house, using the same hidden paths between the greenery, the village was beginning to wake in earnest, the distant sound of voices carrying on the morning air. She quickened her pace, knowing that each passing second increased her risk of being seen.

As she reached the sliding door to her bedroom and pulled it open, the relief made her weak at the knees.

Safe in the privacy of her room, she allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. Another blow had been struck, another message sent. And the immortals were still none the wiser.

It was exhilarating.

She peeled off her damp clothes, hiding them at the bottom of her laundry basket, and stepped into the shower. Letting the warm water wash away the evidence of her morning activities, she was already planning her next strike.

She had to be more careful, though, more precise.

The stakes were too high to allow for errors.