I Am Number Four - Pittacus Lore Page 0,16

is broken. A setback, but one I can overcome. I only need one hand to fire a blaster. I could kill without either arm if I needed to.

“Report,” I shout, the sound of the nearby waterfalls nearly drowning out my voice.

“Sir,” someone says.

From the back of the Skimmer, the newbie emerges, coughing. There’s a cut on his forehead, but otherwise he looks fine.

“Is it just you?” I ask.

He nods.

I glance at the controls. Our communications systems are shot. Somewhere near us, I can hear blasters firing.

I gesture to the hole in the cockpit, and then we’re climbing out.

“What’s your name, soldier?” I ask my only remaining squad member.

“Drak Üshaba,” he says.

This takes me a bit off guard.

“We come from the same vat,” I say.

He nods, his eyes searching the trees around us as we get our bearings. A good soldier.

“But I think I was born quite a few broods after you,” he says.

Our Skimmer crashed not far from the falls. I spot two piles of ash beside metal railings set up to keep people from tumbling into the water. The two remaining Skimmers circle overhead, firing at targets I don’t immediately see. A few more of our troops from one of the other Skimmers are hunkered down behind large rocks, shooting from cover.

“Drak Üshaba,” I say, taking out my blaster with my good hand. “We have a mission to complete. Let’s make our vat, our warship—our Beloved Leader—proud.”

He grunts in reply. We rush into the fight.

I spot two targets: a blond-haired girl hiding in the trees a hundred yards away from us, and a stout, brown-haired kid trying his best not to fall off the rocks and into the water while waving his hands around. Possibly using Loric powers.

Drak sees them too.

“Take the girl,” I say, and he disappears into the trees. “Nonlethal shots. We’ll ride back in one of the other Skimmers. They’ll have room for us.”

I hustle to the side of the railing above the brown-haired kid and aim carefully. The humans are putting up a hell of a fight—much more than I’d expected. But this is far from over. We can still capture them. I can still achieve victory.

I fire. My aim is good. I hit the boy twice in his rear. Just enough to take him down without killing him. He falls, crying out. I think. The sound of the water is so loud.

It’s probably why I don’t realize the person sneaking up on me until it’s too late.

“Oy!” a voice shouts.

I turn. There’s a human boy standing ten yards away. His hair is an odd color. Unnatural. Almost white and sticking up on the top of his head.

I turn my blaster on him. He grins and shakes his finger back and forth. Something flies over his head. A streak of red, pulsing energy. The boy clenches his fingers into a fist and swings it down. Must be using telekinesis. Before I can leap out of the way, the red thing hits the ground behind me just on the other side of the railing. Exploding. Sending me flying through the air along with a shower of smoke, rock, debris.

I hit the ground and roll, finally coming to a stop with my back against something hard. My head smacks against whatever it is, blurring my vision. There’s a sudden pain in my chest.

“Thanks,” the boy calls over his shoulder, but all I can make out is a dark-haired figure, much too small to be a Mogadorian, disappearing into the trees. The boy turns his attention to me. “Man, I’ve got to work on my aim. I almost got poor Bertrand caught up in all that. Ran’s bomb was supposed to actually hit you. Still, I bet that bloody hurts, doesn’t it?”

I look down. There’s a length of metal rod sticking out of the right side of my chest. Part of the railing I’d been standing by. One of my lungs is destroyed, certainly. I must be in shock, though, because I don’t feel much of anything other than a cold tingling in my fingers.

I look around. Where is Drak? Where are the other troops?

“Damned humans . . . ,” I spit out. “Weaklings . . .”

The boy smiles in a way that sets my blood on fire. “Seems to me like these ‘human weaklings’ are taking out all your men. You shoulda brought more aliens with you.” He lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Guess I shoulda guessed you ugly bastards would pick up on our message. Maybe