Lavender Dreams: Life After Us: Book Two

by Rebekah Dodson

  Three days, he had told Vicki. He hoped that would be enough time.

  The first part of his plan, however, would have to happen tonight if he wanted to make it in time. He waited an hour after Julio left and paused to ensure there were indeed two sets of snores. Julio’s, he knew by heart, but damn, his ‘girlfriend’ snored just as heavy.

  Ambrose froze, staring at the closed door to his room.

  He was pretty sure there was no ‘girlfriend’ at all. “Julio, you’re running a dangerous game,” Ambrose whispered out loud to himself. “I hope you’re not that stupid.” Shaking his head, he let himself out the front door as quickly and quietly as he could.

  The punishment for homosexuals was…well, it was less pleasant than the punishment for a girl discovered in their apartment. That decree was the most awful of all – castration, and possible death. Not even in that order.

  Something tugged at Ambrose that night, though, and he couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d never seen nor even heard this ‘Tressa’ until tonight, which sounded like an innocent female name, but then again…what if Julio was hiding the real name? What if Tress was really ‘Trevor’?

  Trevor, a huge black man, worked the guard shack at night. Ambrose always wondered why – he was clearly built for a work team, not a guard shack. But he was almost taller than Ambrose, so he figured Trevor was imposing enough should someone try to escape. A few times Ambrose had caught Julio smiling at him when they left the job site after dinner. Ambrose thought nothing of it – Julio was friendly to everyone. But the way Trevor smiled back, and blinked, as if he was batting his eyes…

  Ah, shit.

  But it explained why Julio wanted to get away. If they were discovered… Ambrose, you fool. You should have figured it out by now. Oh well, he couldn’t worry about it, now. He couldn’t risk Julio’s exposure distracting him from his plans. With any luck, he’d be away before dawn tomorrow.

  The next two days dragged on, the normally 12-hour days taking forever. On the second day, Ambrose ran over the plan in his head more than once. When he and Julio packed up for the day, Ambrose noticed a frown on the face of his jovial friend.

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” Julio responded, pulling himself into the cap of the cement truck. “It’ll blow over.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind.”

  When they got to the exit station, Trevor wasn’t there, as he usually was. A new guard, tall and muscled with a wide black mustache, looked their papers over and handed them over with a grunt.

  “Where’s Trevor?” Julio leaned over Ambrose.

  “Who’s Trevor?”

  “Usual night guard,” Ambrose supplied.

  The guard shrugged. “He won’t be back.”

  “What?” Julio’s eyes went wide. “Where did he go?”

  “Dunno.”

  Ambrose could see Julio’s panic rising. He gently nudged him with his shoulder. “He was a nice guy, that’s all.” Ambrose flashed a smile.

  “Don’t pay to be nice in this world, not anymore.” The guard dismissed them. He pushed the button on his dash. “Have a good night.”

  “Thanks.” Ambrose pressed the gas and slid the truck through the open gate. He wanted to ask Julio what was going on, but he decided it would be a waste of time. Ambrose needed to get out, tonight, before whatever was going on brought him down, too. Julio was silent on the way back to the compound, and when Ambrose parked, Julio jumped out of the truck and ran to their apartment, locking himself in his room.

  Huh, Ambrose though. Strange. Whatever it was, he hoped it didn’t interfere with his plans, and he prayed it didn’t involve Trevor, but he knew he was right.

  Ambrose paced for hours, waiting for Julio’s even snoring in the next room. The sliver of the moon was high as he cracked his window open and gently pushed the screen away, pulling it back into the apartment before it could fall a couple of feet to the ground.

  Grabbing his pack with the phone, a few rations he’d managed to save without Julio noticing, he jumped out of the window. Reaching in, he hauled the two red tanks over the sill and ducked against the pastel blue siding of the apartment. The patrols around the front of the apartments were every 43 minutes exactly, so he set the timer on his watch at forty. He’d have to be in the sky before he ran out of time.

  He wanted to wait longer, bide his time for the right plane. He closed his eyes, taking a mental note of the hangers at the airport. Security wasn’t a problem, as he felt for the keycard in his pocket that let him into just about anything. His hard work in the last few months earning the trust of these supervisors and rising through the ranks of the team had finally paid off.

  Now, to get a plane off the ground without alerting anyone, that was another issue entirely.

  Ambrose wasn’t a fool. He knew he’d have to dodge bullets, maybe a few vaporizers. The base was the most heavily fortified part of town, and his chances were risky at best.

  Also, he’d never flown before.

  He had all the book knowledge, all the mechanics ability, but never actually logged any hours in the sky.

  How hard could it be?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Vicki woke well-rested into the afternoon, the latest she’d ever slept in months. She stretched and rolled over, careful of the baby bump. On the table next to her bed, she could smell the aroma of fresh lavender. Normally one of her favorites, but by now it turned her stomach. It was only a reminder the dream she awakened from was to serve as this nightmare. She opened her eyes to see the purple flowers sprouting in their normal green vase, and then to find Will sitting in the armchair next to the empty, cold fireplace. His legs were crossed, and he was reading from a paper, titled in a foreign language she couldn’t recognize.

  “You missed breakfast,” he told her.

  “I’m sorry,” she responded immediately, purely out of habit. She was saying it a lot these days.

  “And lunch.”

  Vicki pushed herself up against the pillows. She eyed him but remained quiet. She had learned early on being quiet was much safer, at least until she knew what his mood was. She closed her eyes, thinking of Ambrose’s voice, his promise to save her. A smile played on her lips.

  Will chuckled, and Vicki heard the rustle as he sat the paper aside. She opened her eyes to see him approach the bedside. “You seem happier today. What is it about you?”

  No shit, Vicki thought, but bit her lip instead. She rubbed her abdomen and smiled wider. “Just had a good dream about our son.”

  “You really think it’s a boy?” Will’s eyes sparkled, and he smiled.

  Vicki nodded, forcing herself to freeze the smile on her face.

  Will held out his hand. “Come, my love, I have a surprise for you.”

  “Will, I’m starving. Can’t we…”

  “No!” Will’s smile evaporated, and he tugged on her hand so hard she had to brace herself from falling out of the bed. She stumbled to her feet, pushing away on his chest. “You’ll love it, I promise. Now get dressed. I’ll be back for you in twenty minutes.”

  Vicki was breathing hard, her heart pounding from almost falling as the doors closed behind him and the lock clicked into place. What would happen to the baby if she fell? She didn’t want to think about that. The baby was the only reason she was still alive, she knew. She went about the motions of getting ready and tried to keep her chin up.

  Where ever you are, Ambrose, be safe. I’ll see you in two days. I love you.

  The thought shocked her, as she zipped up her leather boots and tied her dress around her growing stomach. When had she fallen for him? She couldn’t even pinpoint it anymore. She couldn’t even put her finger on how she felt. She just knew hearing his voice calmed her wild seas and feeling his arms around her was the safest place to be. Every time she thought about him, a smile lit her face as they never did these days. She left it like that – not knowing how she felt but knowing somehow, he saved her before she even knew she
needed saving.

  She sat on the edge of the bed with her hands in her lap. It was hard to believe a few months ago she’d been sitting at the edge of the marble table with her tablet in her hands, playing some game or doing some budget sheet for work. Now she was idle, lonely, going through the motions just to stay alive.

  The world had changed so much it was hard to think about.

  While she waited for Will to come back, she started to think about how she could escape from him. Maybe whatever he had planned, she could slip away. Cause a distraction, somehow, and he wouldn’t notice. But she shook her head. Without Ambrose, it was futile. She’d need a goddamn tank or something for that big of a distraction. She laughed sarcastically. Who the hell had a tank in Nebraska?

  The doors creaked open, interrupting her thoughts, but instead of Will, it was the new little maid, Carlita, who often came in to clean Vicki's room, bring her clothes, and sometimes meals when she wasn’t feeling well enough for breakfast. This time, Carlita hoisted a silver tray with a tea pot and a domed plate in front of her. She looked barely able to carry such a weight.

  “Leader said we were leaving,” Carlita told her, her eyes cast downward. Vicki marveled again for a moment on Carlita’s thick accent that Vicki could never decide was more Spanish or Portuguese. “But I insisted that you eat for, for la bebê.”

  Vicki liked her. She was thin and scrawny, probably no more than 16 years old, Vicki guessed, but she had a nice smile under plentiful brown curls and bushy eyebrows. She was always so kind to Vicki. Her bronze skin spoke of some South American heritage. She was dressed in tight white t-shirt and worn jeans but looked like a model who could have once graced the cover of Vanity Fair. Vicki almost laughed. Once displayed on Alex glasses around the world, Vanity Fair was most certainly now a thing of the past.

  “How old are you, Carlita?” Vicki asked, taking the tray from her and sitting it on the table in the corner of the room. Why, Carlita was no bigger than Vicki and the tray had to weigh…

  A light bulb suddenly erupted into Vicki’s vision. Maybe Carlita would help her escape. She knew Vicki didn’t have any love for Will, and she had often talked of leaving to find her mother, who she had been separated from in the invasion. The old prince and the pauper trick flooded her thoughts.

  Her plans were interrupted by a sharp pain in her back. She reached behind her to hold it in.

  No, it’s too soon, she thought. Another pain, this one a little sharper, etched down her side.

  “Are you alright, Miss?” Carlita was eying her closely.

  “Yes.” Vicki willed a smile on her face. “I’m fine, just hungry.”

  Carlita pulled open the domed lid, and Vicki’s stomach rumbled at the aroma of steamed vegetables and flakey fish. Fish? This far inland? How did Carlita or Tristan, the cook, manage that?

  “That smells delicious.” Vicki closed her eyes and sat down at the table.

  “Senorita.” Carlita wrung her hands in her apron. “Supreme Leader would like you come downstairs as soon as you are done.”

  Vicki smiled. “Of course.” She got to work finishing the tray of food. The slightly sweet and tart lemon flavors blended so well, she was dismayed to have to eat so quickly. She had never tasted such a delicious meal. Had they always been this way? How had she never even noticed?

  Ambrose would have loved this, she thought. She looked up at Carlita, who stood with her hands folded in the corner of the room. Vicki turned back to her last bites, glad no one could read her mind.

  As soon as she put the lid back on the tray and finished the last of the tea, the doors to her room opened once more. Behind Carlita, she could see the three armed guards at the door in familiar suits with guns strapped to their backs and berets pulled sideways on their head. She sighed. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as she thought. At least she could do it on a full stomach – she had no idea where her next meal would come from.

  As she stepped out of the room, a familiar voice whispered, “Looking beautiful as ever, Miss Vicki.”

  Vicki shuddered as she turned to see Aziz Tawill, one of Will’s trusted advisors and the man who had single handedly destroyed their escape attempt in Chemault, standing next to her. He put his elbow out, urging her to take it with a lift of his thick, black eyebrows.

  “Sergeant.” She nodded to him, swallowing her revile as she took his arm. Behind them, she could hear Carlita whimper, but Vicki dismissed it.

  Tawill laughed, a bit of spittle flying from his mouth and hitting Vicki on the cheek. She frowned at him. “What’s so funny?”

  He pointed to the three stars on the lapel of his jacket. “It’s general, now.”

  Vicki looked at him, her mouth falling open. “What happened to General Hernandez?”

  Tawill shrugged. “Not as loyal as the Leader thought, I guess.” His other hand pushed into her back as they approached the stairs.

  Vicki shook her head. “You are in charge, now?” she whispered.

  Tawill just smiled at her, a sparkle in his eye she didn’t like. Will had that sparkle, when he came to her room late at night. When he…

  Another pain shot down the middle of Vicki’s back, and she worried Tawill had caused it, until she realized it was identical to the pain she’d felt in her room. No, it’s too soon. Her mind tried to process what the pain could be, and she prayed she was wrong.

  “I’ll thank you to take your arm from my fiancée.” Will sneered as they approached the bottom of the grand staircase. “Unless you should find yourself without a head, like Hernandez.”

  Tawill’s smile disappeared and he yanked his arm away from Vicki. He snapped to attention, his open palm pressed to his forehead. “Yes, Leader.”

  Vicki exhaled as her pain subsided as quickly as it had come.

  Will nodded curtly at him and took Vicki’s arm. Tawill and his armed men followed behind them.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, her head still spinning. This was the first time she’d left her room, save for escorted trips to the dining room, in months. And now they were leaving… the mansion? Carlita stepped in front of them and opened the massive front doors, grunting with the heavy iron and wood. Outside, Vicki could see a sleek, black limousine. She gasped.

  “The late governor’s,” Will boasted, when he saw what Vicki was staring at. “He won’t need it anymore, and besides, it’s bullet proof.” He reached out and opened the door, gently pushing the small of her back as Tawill had. Vicki knew by now it was less endearment and intended as a subtle you’d better do what I say touch. In front and trailing behind the limousine were two Humvees, which Tawill and the soldiers loaded into.

  Vicki stepped into the limo, sliding across the smooth leather interior. She had always dreamed of a limo, but not like this, not as a…prisoner. Still, it smelled like a new car, and it was more spacious than she could have ever imagined. Will stepped in after her and just as he pulled the door shut, Vicki could see Carlita get in the front, next to the driver.

  She tried the handle on the door, but it was locked, and a quick glance told her the locks were sunken into the door. Frustrated, she turned to Will. “I still want to know where we are going.”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “But…”

  “Vicki.” Will looked at her, his left eye twitching.

  She knew that was a bad sign, a sign she was about to get another punch. She clamped her mouth shut.

  The limo pulled out the gate of the mansion, which shut heavily, clanking behind them. They turned onto a freeway of sorts, although it was clear, there were lines of cars pushed off onto the shoulder and only enough room for their convoy. The rows of abandoned vehicles, the victims of the horrible EMP that came with the vaporizers. Here and there, small piles of ash lined the road, most of it blown away by the prairie winds. Seeing the destruction and mayhem broke her heart.

  Will took her hand. “I’m glad you’re in a good mood today.”

  She let him hold her hand but left it
limp and lifeless. “Hmm,” she said, still staring out the window. The empty wheat fields, which should have been golden and flowing, were empty and blackened. Along the road though, patches of lavender had been left alone, an odd and stark reminder of something beautiful in the world.

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with your new phone, would it?” Will asked out of the blue.

  Vicki turned and looked at him, saying nothing.

  “Did you reach anyone?”

  “I did.”

  “Who?”

  Vicki had already planned for this conversation. “Marcy.”

  “Marcy? That annoying receptionist from your old office?” Will eyed her with an eyebrow raised.

  “Yup,” Vicki lied effortlessly. “Well, I tried a few others, but I guess the towers must be down.” Or you made sure they were dead when you bombed Portland, she thought, but clamped on her lip to avoid blurting it out.

  “Hmm,” Will mumbled, “I thought you hated her.”

  “It was one of the few numbers I memorized,” Vicki shrugged. “She’s actually doing well in Portland. Did you know she was in the National Guard? She was hired to protect the new boundaries of the city. She’s even got her own penthouse. Apparently, the rebuilding is going … well.” She sucked in a breath to halt her lie. Too many details, she knew, and people started to suspect it wasn’t the truth, and Will was as sharp as they came.

  “Yes, I have heard,” Will shifted, crossing his legs. Vicki could tell from his flat voice he didn’t care, which irritated her. Looking out the window he sighed. “You know I’m not a monster, Vicki. But you informed me yourself months ago the world was out of control. This is my version of control, and if people had to die in the process, well, such a shame it is.”