The Perfect Soldier

by B D Grant

  “This is the best one,” I say, which isn’t a lie. I hand it back to him, and he smiles.

  “It grabs your attention, doesn’t it?”

  “Definitely.” I let him admire the design before asking, “So, just a quick drive?”

  “What would John say?”

  “I’m asking you, not John.”

  Miles collects the images, placing the one with the red eye patch on top. “John made it pretty clear that you folks are supposed to stay secret. If you’re feeling cramped, go hang out with Jake. He’s on the veranda, last I saw.”

  I nod dully. Miles heads off towards the kitchen, where Clairabelle is getting a quick bite in. I hear him asking her if she wants to check out the design samples before he takes them to his band meeting tonight.

  Later that evening Jake shows up in my room, unannounced. I’m in the middle of trying to take a nap, hoping that maybe this time, I’ll connect with my mom. Maybe it’s just been a matter of timing.

  I reluctantly sit up. “What do you want?”

  Seeing me in bed, he pauses in the door frame. “Miles had me pick out a design,” he says, looking around the room uncomfortably.

  I toss my blanket off to show him that I’m still fully dressed. “Oh, yeah.”

  Seeing that I’m clothed, he relaxes. “I went with the skull and eye patch too.”

  He waits for me to say something. When I let the silence linger, he goes back to casually looking around my room, stepping in further. “Did you need something?” I pull my blanket back over my legs and lean back onto my pillow. He clears his throat as I lay my head down. “He also told me what you asked.”

  “Of course he did,” I say, shutting my eyes. I pull my blanket up to my shoulder. “Close the door on your way out.”

  I listen to him move back toward the door and then stop. The steady whir of the ceiling fan slows to a buzz, then stops. I open my eyes and squint. Jake is still standing by the door, next to the switches. I guess he hasn’t forgotten my nighttime ritual.

  Giving him the reaction I’m sure he’s expecting, I pop up. “What is wrong with you?”

  Jake shushes me as he shuts the door to my room. “It’s the middle of the afternoon. If you want to act like a brat, I’ll go get John and Uncle Darrell and you can explain to them why you’re wanting to leave.”

  “I don’t know what he told you, but you’re overreacting,” I say. “Now let me get some sleep.”

  He walks over to the foot of the bed and plops down, forcing me to move my legs. “After you tell me why you were trying to leave.”

  “I wasn’t,” I lie.

  He gets up and goes toward the door again. Quickly, I stretch my legs out again. He flips on the light switch and leans with his back against the door.

  I glare back at him. “Fine.”

  I hate the way he looks when he wins. He walks back over to the bed heading for the same spot he was just sitting.

  “If you sit down again,” I growl. “I will kick you.”

  “If you kick me, you’ll regret it.” I grudgingly make room, but I keep the blanket wrapped around me as I sit up. I want him to know that I fully intend to have my nap once this is over with. Unable to stop myself, I grab the extra pillow that’s laying next to me and chuck it at him. “I don’t know what you want me to say.

  He easily catches the pillow before it hits his face and sets it on his lap, resting an elbow. “I want you to tell me the real reason you’re wanting to drive Miles’s car.”

  “I was just saying—”

  “He told me, and you’ve been driving around the deer lease since you were twelve.”

  He stares at me patiently. I wonder what would happen if I was to tell him the truth. Jake may not believe a word I say about Mom and think I’m losing my mind. He might believe me and then go tell John and Dad which wouldn’t help. Or maybe he’ll help me save her.

  I choose my words slowly, carefully. “What would you do if you could save your mom but you had to put yourself in danger to accomplish it?”

  Jake narrows his eyes at me. He grabs the pillow from out of his lap, smashing it into the bed in a huff.

  I stare at him perplexed. I wasn’t expecting my question to strike a nerve. I instinctively squeeze my blanket against my chest.

  “Tell me right now what you’re up to. Now.”

  “Mom’s in danger,” I tell him. The words spilling out.

  Jake’s expression softens. “What?”

  “I can’t tell you how I know, but my mom is for sure in danger, and I’m the only one who can get to her.”

  “This is exactly the kind of thing you need to go to John with.”

  “Sure, yeah. I’ll tell John, and then he’ll tell my dad—who, in case you didn’t notice, is already having enough trouble putting on weight without the added stress…” Jake doesn’t react to me mentioning my dad’s health like I was hoping. I know he’s noticed my dad struggling to do simple tasks like opening cans or lifting a full trash bag from out of the trashcan. “What do you think my dad will do when he finds out Mom is really in danger? He’ll go after her even though he doesn’t know where she is or who she’s going after.”

  Jake crosses his arms as he eyes me skeptically. “You’re telling me that Aunt Catherine has been missing this whole time because she’s searching for someone?”

  I set my blanket down, uncurling just enough to sit with my legs crossed, facing him. I place my pillow over my legs and lean my elbows into it, closing some of the space between us. This is the position I’ve taken at every slumber party I’ve ever attended, right before all of the gossip and secrets were shared. This doesn’t have the same vibe, but it does manage to lighten my mood.

  “She’s hunting down the people behind the hospital attacks. She’s planning on taking them out. She doesn’t care if that involves having to take herself out with them.”

  “And how do you know this?” he asks in disbelief.

  “The only thing I can tell you is that it’s happening. And I need to get to her before she finds them.” I don’t want to say what will happen if I don’t. I lean toward Jake as I’m telling him this, hoping that he will feel the same impending doom that I do. I watch him closely as he thinks it over, his face a mask.

  It doesn’t take him long to make up his mind. “There’s no way I can let you leave,” he says. “If she’s really up to what you’re saying, you have to tell John. Otherwise, you’re putting our lives in danger.”

  I bury my face in my hands, balling them into fists. I should never have opened my mouth. I should have made up some lie about seeing some cute guy out the window that I wanted to try to meet. I rub my forehead before sitting up to give Jake a haggard nod. “Okay. I’ll tell him.” Jake grins appreciatively. “After my nap,” I add, grabbing my blanket.

  He moves from the bed, frowning at me suspiciously. “You better.”

  “Turn the lights off,” I say to the back of his head as he leaves. He cuts the switch off and shuts the door. Good thing he’s not a Veritatis.

  There’s nothing that he could have said that would have changed my mind. I’m surprised he doesn’t know that about me by now.

  With my mind spinning, I know right away that I’m not going to be able to go to sleep. I let some time pass before sneaking out of my room in search for Dad, hoping to find him before everyone sits down for supper.

  Miles and Jake are out on the veranda when I pass the dayroom. I find Dad in the kitchen doing what he can to help Clairabelle prepare dinner. Perfect.

  “Hey Clairabelle, do you have Midol or anything for cramps?” I ask with a hand over the lower half of my abdomen.

  “Let me look,” she says sweetly, setting down the plate of baked chicken and opening her medicine cabinet.

  Dad shakes his head as he moves around the kitchen, clearly a little uncomfortable. He takes a stack of plates out from the cabinet by the sink and carries them into the dining room.

  “This should do it,” she says h
anding me a card of capsules. “If you’re cramps are bad, take two.”

  “Thanks. Will you let Dad know I might skip supper? I think I need to lay down.”

  She nods. “Do you want some essential oils? They really help me.”

  “No, I think this should do it,” I say, popping out two of the capsules before returning the card to the cabinet. I close my fist around them.

  “Alright. I’ll put a plate in the refrigerator for you in case you get hungry later.”

  I return to my room. Now, the waiting game.

  I pretend to be asleep while everyone eats, lounges around, and then finally goes to bed. The whole time, I’m expecting Jake to come in and nag me about talking to John, but he doesn’t.

  Slowly, the second floor goes quiet. Still, just to be safe, I wait an hour to be sure that everyone’s asleep.

  At last, I rise quietly, grabbing my backpack from under my bed. I leave the lights off, squinting in the dark and taking care to step as softly as I can. First, I stop by the kitchen to top off my backpack with snacks. Then, I creep across the apartment heading for the key hooks that are by the door that leads to the stairs. I slow down when I’m getting close knowing that I don’t want to run into the edge of the bench that sits against the wall where Clairabelle and Miles sit to take off their shoes. I barely brush the bench with the side of my shin as I pass it. Miles always keeps his car key on the hook farthest from the bench, nearest to the door.

  The keys are exactly where they should be. The sparse ring holds only one house key and one car key, making it easy to feel for them in the dark.

  I slide them off of the hook too excitedly, and they clink against one another.

  I freeze. I hear a click and am blinded by a flashlight.

  I jump back, my shoulder hitting the key rack, which jingles loudly. Damn.

  “Where are you going?” Jake asks, sitting up from the bench. He’s no more than ten feet from where I stand. I had walked right past him without noticing.

  “What are you doing?” I ask in an angry whisper.

  “I always do my nightly mediations in the dark on a hard bench.”

  “I cross my arms so that the hand that is holding the keys is safely hidden from view. “You were waiting on me.”

  “You promised you would talk to John.”

  “Did I promise?” I look up at the ceiling as if trying to remember. “No, don’t think so.”

  He stands up with his hand out. “You’re being stupid. Give me the keys.”

  Before he has time to take a step toward me, I make a break for it.

  I crash down the stairs, no longer concerned with being quiet, and take off sprinting on the first floor.

  I don’t bother looking behind me until I’ve gotten to the rear of the spa. He is closing in on me fast. I jam Miles’s key into the back door, twisting it frantically and pulling until it opens.

  He’s through the doorframe after me before the door swings shut. I can’t outrun him with Miles’s car just a few feet from the rear entrance.

  “Nice try. Now give me the keys,” he demands in a harsh whisper already sounding a bit winded. We pretty much reach the driver’s door at the same time, throwing our hands out to touch it as if it was a race.

  “No,” I say adamantly. “I’m going, Jake!”

  I slowly begin walking backwards away from him around to the front of the car. If he would just stay where he is I could unlock the passenger door and climb to the driver’s seat. I just hope he doesn’t try to stand in front of the car. I’d hate to run over him.

  “You’re putting all of us at risk right now,” he says, scanning the adjacent buildings for any hint of anyone watching us.

  “I’m trying to save my mom.” I stop walking. If he’s thinking about forcing me back inside he’s got another thing coming. We’re not kids anymore.

  He stops a couple feet away, breathing hard from his nostrils. “Fine,” he says. I stare back at him as he stretches out his hand. “Then I’m driving. You’re horrible on the road at night.”

  I stare at his outstretched hand. This has got to be a trick. “What?” I ask.

  “The keys, Taylor. Come on.”

  “That’s it? You’re going to let me leave?”

  “I’m not letting you go by yourself, and the only way I’m letting you get in this car,” he says jabbing a finger at the hood of the car, “is if I drive.”

  “You promise you aren’t going to take the keys and run back inside?”

  “I promise,” he says. I don’t feel the tingle that I would if he were lying.

  I slap the keys in his hand. “Deal. But I can drive when you get tired.”

  Wordlessly, he unlocks the car, and I slide into the passenger seat. “This will be easier with help,” I admit as he gets into the driver’s seat. I toss my bag into the backseat behind me. “But I didn’t bring enough snacks.”

  Jake shakes his head, and I stop talking. “If you get us into a wreck, we’re coming back. No discussion.”

  “You’re the one driving!” I protest. Wordlessly, he turns on the headlights and pulls onto the street.

  Jake wakes me once he’s decided that he is too tired to continue driving. We were heading north when we left New Orleans, but now we’re on interstate ten heading west. It’s still dark outside. The clock on the radio says it’s three o’clock, so morning is only a few hours away. Since I don’t know precisely where Mom is, before I feel asleep we decided to head in the direction of our old town, which is why we’re heading west, until I get a definite location on her. Jake was just thrilled about that.

  Shortly after the sun rises, so does Jake. He shifts around a bit in the passenger seat but doesn’t say anything, so after a few moments of silence I assume he’s fallen back asleep. However, when I glance to my right, his eyes are open and alert.

  “Are you feeling okay over there?” I ask.

  “I’m meditating,” he lies.

  I choke back a laugh. “Since when did you become the meditating type?”

  “Didn’t have much else to do while I was locked up underground.”

  I look back over at him, worried that him talking about his time with Rogues is going to piss him off, but his face is still relaxed.

  “You want to talk about it?” I offer, trying not to sound pitying.

  “No.”

  I can’t help but think about what Sidney had said about him. “You weren’t in a cell when I found you. Did meditation help you get out of the basement?”

  He sits up in his seat, pulling the lever to bring it back to an upright position behind him. The chair slowly elevates to meet his back. Without looking at me he asks, “You want to know what I did to get out of my cell?”

  “I’d kind of like to know about all of it, if you’re okay with that. You were unconscious on your front lawn the last I saw of you right before the Rogues dragged you all away.” Jake doesn’t respond. I look over but he’s turned his head to the passenger window so I can’t see his face. “You meditating again?”

  “You have your dad to thank.”

  “For what?” I ask.

  “For knocking me out.” I turn to look at him in surprise, but when I feel myself drifting a bit, I turn back to the road. Jake doesn’t acknowledge me at all. “We were cutting through Mr. Thomas’s yard to get to my house. I heard quick footsteps behind me, and then I heard my mom scream. I turned around, and your dad was right there behind me. She kept screaming, and he didn’t say anything. Then, without warning, he knocked me out with one punch.” I glance over at him again. There’s no way my dad could knock someone out today, but before the basement, before he was taken from the Angelo’s front yard, my dad was a strong, agile Dynamar.

  “I woke up in the back of some van,” he says, stoically. “My hands were tied behind my back, and I had a gag in my mouth. Mom, Dad, and Uncle Darrell were there too. Mom was crying. My dad was next to her trying to get her to calm down by keeping eye contact with her and taking slow,
deep breathes trying to get her to imitate him. Uncle Darrell was staring at me like he was trying to tell me something with his eyes.

  “Mom started, like, hyperventilating. I’ve never seen her like that. I thought she was going to be sick. We made noise, as much as we could, trying to get the driver’s attention. The guy driving hadn’t so much as looked in the rear view mirror to check on us since he started driving. He seemed to be more brawn than brains.

  “So when he finally noticed and we pulled over, I was thinking maybe someone would see us on the side of the road. A car was pulling over behind us when the driver opened the back door, but it was more of them that got out. They let Mom dry-heave on this dirt road, and as soon as she caught her breath, she told them that I was a ‘normal kid’ and asked them to let me go.”

  Jake looks over at me—in my peripheral vision, I see him stare for a moment—but he doesn’t look at my face. When I glance over at him, I feel like he’s staring past me, out my window. I turn back to the road, waiting for him to start talking again.

  “Another car pulled up behind the van about that time, and for a second I was hopeful. But Mom was pushed back into the van while they took me out. They put me in the backseat of the other car, but nobody else. Mom must have been freaking out.

  “So we drive for a while and ended in front of The Welcome Center. You know the Welcome center, right?”

  I nod. It was the first building Dillon and I ran into during the raid. A sniper had started shooting at us from the woods nearby, and we bolted through the doors for cover. “Yeah.”

  “A lady gave me an injection, and then I passed out. I woke up in the basement.

  For what felt like the next three days, I was questioned. They wouldn’t let me sleep. A lot of what they asked me, I’m pretty sure they already knew the answers to. They asked about your mom, they knew her name and everything. They asked me if she and your father had any kids. I said I didn’t know you guys. Then they showed me pictures they had taken from inside your house. I was in some of the photos with you and your parents, like the one from the hiking trip we took two years ago. It was a nice way for them to show me that I wasn’t getting away with any of my lies.