This religion was perhaps the most powerful thing in the settlement, but it had never occurred to me until Donaghy brought it up. Mostly because it was something we didn’t discuss in my family.
I couldn’t remember a time when people hadn’t prayed to the statue of Angus, but I had never realized that I was somehow a part of it—at least in the eyes of the fanatics—until I started school. Before that, I think my parents worked to shield me from The Church, because I never really made the connection with the statue and the uncle who had died saving humanity until I started school and it became impossible to avoid.
On that first day we took turns standing in front of the class, sharing with the other children our age our names and who we were. When my turn came, I’d been nervous enough, and it had only gotten worse when I’d said my name. While half the kids had maintained their sleepy boredom, the other half had perked up. It was like my name had some magical power I’d never been aware of until that moment.
“James?” one little girl, who I would later learn to avoid, had asked. “Like Angus James?”
“Yes.” I’d nodded, unaware that this girl was the daughter of the high priestess of The Church. “Angus James was my uncle.”
I’d raised my chin, proud that I shared the last name of the man who’d died saving us. That was a story I knew. One everyone knew. What I’d never been told by my parents, though, was that there were a lot of people who thought of Angus as some kind of god.
On that first day of school, I learned more than I did for the rest of my education. I learned all about The Church and their beliefs. How they thought Angus would come back and save them again one day, and I also learned that the religion was spreading faster than the virus had.
Back then, only a small portion of the population held those beliefs, but as the years passed and illnesses claimed even more lives, the religion spread. Now more than half of Atlanta bowed their heads when they sat down at the dinner table and said a prayer to Angus James.
I shivered and walked faster, leaving the shrine and the shantytown and the thoughts of religious zealots behind me. My building came into view, and the sight of Jackson leaning against the wall next to the door caused my footsteps to falter just a little.
The realization that he’d been using me all these years hurt, but it also scared me. Whether or not he knew what was going on in the CDC, he was part of this whole thing. His father had brought him in as an apprentice at a young age, and there was no way Jackson had been kept in the dark for all these years. Not completely, anyway. He had to know something about my father.
“Meg? Are you okay?” Jackson pushed himself off the wall when I was still ten feet away, and when he looked me up and down, the hair on my scalp prickled.
For years I’d interpreted looks like this as concern. As proof that he was better than his father. Now, though, I couldn’t help wondering if it was something else. If Jackson was studying my moods and using the feelings I was so poor at hiding from him as a weapon against me.
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just tired and confused about life. Things have changed so much and I don’t think I’m dealing with it all that well.”
“I’m sorry. I know things have been hard for you.” For once, the sympathetic look he gave me felt fake and rehearsed.
How had I allowed him to fool me for all these years? Other people could see through him. My parents had never been fans, and Donaghy saw it the second he laid eyes on Jackson. But I’d been blinded for years by the fact that he’d been there to save me when I needed him the most. Jackson had comforted me in the worst moments of my life, and I’d seen it as proof that deep down he was a good person. Had it all been an act just so he could use my name to gain more power?
I let out a deep breath, trying to act exhausted and confused, which wasn’t a total lie. I was exhausted, and everything about Jackson seemed like a riddle to me now. But, I needed information out of him.
It was time for a different strategy.
I took a step closer and pressed myself up against him, laying my head on his chest. When I wrapped my arms around his waist, he returned the hug, but the familiarity of his embrace was gone. This man no longer felt like a friend. He felt like a stranger. Or worse, an enemy.
“You’ve always been so strong,” I said. “Always been here for me. Thank you.”
I lifted my head, peering up at him through my eyelashes. Jackson was watching me, his face expressionless and his eyes so cold that it almost made me shiver. I forced out a smile as I lifted myself up on the tips of my toes, and when I pressed my lips against his, I had to squeeze my eyes shut and pretend he was someone else.
Jackson’s hands were on my hips in a second, and then he was pulling me closer. His mouth moved over mine so quickly that it took my breath away. I tried to put everything I had into the kiss, but it was hard. All I could think about were the things Ticker said and the icy expression in Jackson’s eyes when I’d gone to his house earlier today. I needed to do this, though. I needed him to trust me and let me into his life so I could look around. This was all about survival. About bending the situation to my will.
Jackson spun me around so my back was against the building, his hands snaking up my hips to my waist while his mouth devoured mine. He’d wanted this for so long and I knew it, and even though having his lips and hands on me made my skin crawl, I couldn’t back down.
But the kiss was cut short only seconds after it started, and Jackson pulled away. Only he didn’t step back, and his hands were now planted firmly against the wall on either side of me, caging me in. My lips were raw from his attack and he was out of breath, but the intensity that flashed in his eyes when he looked down at me had nothing to do with passion. He glared like he was trying to shoot fire from his eyes, looking more like his father than he ever had before. I tried to shrink away from his fury, but he had me trapped against the wall.
“Jackson?” I whispered, suddenly terrified of the person in front of me.
“I bet you think you’re real smart,” he said, the smile on his face not matching the fury in his eyes. “Well, fuck you.” A laugh that was slightly maniacal popped out of his mouth and I cringed away from him. “That’s what I should have done. I should have kept going. Seen how far you’d be willing to take this little charade. You would have screwed me if you thought it would get you what you wanted. Wouldn’t you?” The last two words echoed through the streets, bouncing off the surrounding buildings.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I sounded smaller than a mouse, which was how I felt under his gaze. Tiny. Insignificant. Unable to fix even the smallest problem in my life.
Jackson let out a deep breath and stepped back. “It would have been a waste of time. If you think I’d ever consider betraying my father and what he’s trying to accomplish here, you’re even dumber than I thought. He’s building something great, and I’m going to help him.”
The truth of who this person was slammed into me. Matt had been right. Jackson was a sociopath. All these years I’d thought that deep down he was good. He wasn’t, though. Never had been. He was exactly like his father. Manipulative and power hungry, and Jackson’s friendship with me had always been about my last name and a desperate grab for even more power.
“Anything they do within the walls of the CDC is justified.” Jackson’s voice was low and menacing. Like a threat.
Tears filled my eyes when images of Dad flashed through my mind. Strapped down to a table, tubes and wires coming out of him.
“Is he there?” I whispered even though I knew Jackson would never tell me. There would be no reaching the man in front of me.
His hands dropped to his sides and he took a step back, giving me room to breathe. I did, sucking in a deep breath and holding it, waiting for him to answer. He didn’t, though. He just ran his hands down his shirt, smoothing it out like it was a suit and he was getting ready to head into an important meeting.
He didn’t meet my eyes again. Not even when he said,
“It’s late. I should get home.” He took one step away before stopping, not even turning when he called over his shoulder, “When you see that fighter friend of yours tomorrow, be sure to tell him that I said good luck. From what I hear, the zombies they’re tossing his way are bigger and newer.”
He headed off, but I couldn’t move. I wasn’t sure if his last statement was intended as a warning or if it was his way of telling me that he knew Joshua had been thrown into the ring last night. Maybe it was both. After what I’d just witnessed, I didn’t have a doubt in my mind that Jackson knew all the ins and outs of this settlement.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Donaghy
“What the hell are you doing?” Dragon growled.
I rolled onto my side and peered at the other man through the cage surrounding the ring. The bar was still dark, so it must have been early, but I hadn’t gotten much rest. The cot was a piece of shit, but it was a hell of a lot softer than the floor of the ring.
“Trying to get some sleep.” I pushed myself up to sitting position, then rolled my neck, wincing at the cracking and popping noises that echoed through my head. “Those asshole guards of mine are hacking like crazy.”
Dragon let out a deep breath. “Shit’s going down.”
“Happens every few years.” I narrowed my eyes on the other man, trying to get a good look at him through the cage. Something in his voice said what I already knew: that this was more than just a bug sweeping across the settlement.
“Happens too often.” He turned his back on me and headed toward the bar, nodding for me to follow. “Come get some breakfast.”
I dragged myself out of the ring and headed after him, wondering what he was thinking. I had my suspicions about the illness spreading through the settlement, but that was because of what I’d overheard at the Regulator’s house. Dragon had other sources, though. Whether it was Helen or the gray man, I didn’t know, but someone had let him in on the Regulator’s dirty little secret: that they were using this flu to weed out the scum of the city.
I slid onto a stool just as Dragon pulled a couple prepackaged meals out from behind the bar. He tossed one my way, his brows pulled low and his face darker than usual. I didn’t say anything before tearing into my meal. He clearly had stuff on his mind and so did I. Between Meg and what was going on with her family, and the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about her or how bad it hurt to know that I was leaving in a few days time, my head felt full.
We ate in silence, each of us lost in thoughts about the shit that was falling on this settlement and what it would mean for us. I knew what it would most likely mean for me: death by flu. That was a subject I hadn’t broached with Meg. I’d been sleeping in the same room with my guards, and odds were good that I’d catch this thing.
Someone banged on the door, the sound echoing through the empty bar, and I swear I nearly shit my pants. It had startled me, coming out of nowhere when the silence was so thick and heavy it had felt untouchable, but there was another reason my heart started pounding like a stampede. No one came to a bar this early in the morning to deliver good news.
I stopped chewing and swallowed, wincing when the food nearly got stuck in my throat. My gaze was on the door as Dragon swore and headed around the counter.
I didn’t move from my position on the stool. After the other morning, Dragon and I both knew exactly what was on the other side of that door, but what I didn’t know was why. Was it another message for Meg, or a zombie for me?
Dragon pulled the door open and took a step back. The snarls that floated into the room weren’t a surprise, but they still made my stomach threaten to eject the food I’d just eaten.
“You know the drill,” a man said, but his voice was strained. “Move back. This one’s determined to get a bite out of me.”
Dragon took a couple steps back as the same two men from the other morning dragged the zombie inside. The thing growled and struggled against his chains, fighting to get free as they pulled him forward. The zom’s snarls were only interrupted by the constant cursing of the guards. If they were having a tough time controlling the bastard while he was chained, I was in for it.
I turned my back on them and returned to my meal, trying my best to ignore the swears and growls that vibrated through the room.
When Dragon stopped in front of me, I forced myself to look up, wanting to read his gaze. His eyes, dark and hard, gave nothing away, though.
“Is this another message?” I asked when he didn’t say anything.
He shook his head, his gaze moving past me to the back of the room. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Great,” I muttered, looking down at the pathetic meal in front of me. One of my last, most likely. “Maybe I would have been better off if I’d allowed myself to catch the flu.”
“Don’t kid yourself,” Dragon said. “They’d still make you fight.”
He was right about that.
I was doing pushups when Meg came stumbling into the bar. Her eyes were crazy and her normally neat hair was a wild mess. She looked like she’d been attacked or threatened, or she’d just heard the worst news of her life.
I was on my feet and out of the ring before she’d made it even halfway across the room, meeting her in the middle of the bar. Her little body slammed into mine so hard that some of the breath whooshed out of my lungs, but I pulled back and looked her over, trying to figure out if she was hurt.
“What’s wrong?” I asked when I didn’t see anything.
“Jackson.” She swallowed and blinked like she was fighting back tears. “I talked to him last night.”
“You did what?” This girl was either the bravest or dumbest person I’d ever met, I just wasn’t sure which one. “I told you to stay away from him.” My hands tightened on her shoulders when a million crazy thoughts flipped though my head. If he touched her, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I’d kill him with my bare hands and die with a smile on my face when his puny father put a bullet through my brain.
“He threatened you,” Meg blurted out, and all the thoughts in my head sizzled away. “At least I think he did. He said to tell you good luck.”
From anyone else that would seem like a nice sentiment, but from this guy… Yeah, it was definitely a threat. I should have known he was behind the special delivery we had this morning.
“Shit,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help feeling relieved that Meg was okay. I was going to die, but it wasn’t news to me. The second those guards knocked on the door this morning I knew my odds of seeing tomorrow were slim to none.
Across the room, someone coughed. Meg and I both turned, but I didn’t know who it was. None of the men in the bar looked particularly healthy. Slouched, weak, shivering with fever. They were drunks who had dragged themselves here even though they’d felt like shit. Hell, they were probably used to feeling like shit and hadn’t yet realized that this was different. This wasn’t a hangover after two too many glasses of moonshine. This was death.
“Listen,” I said, pulling Meg’s attention my way. “Another zombie was brought in his morning and I have good feeling this one was intended for me.”
Meg’s green eyes grew even bigger, seeming to take up most of her face. “What?”
I wasn’t sure if she didn’t understand what I was telling her or if she just didn’t want to accept it. Either way, I had a few things I wanted to say to her before I stepped into that ring tonight.
I pulled her to the side of the room and held her by the shoulders, looking her in the eye as I said, “This is probably the end for me.”
Meg swallowed. Her lips parted but nothing came out, then she shook her head. This was exactly what I’d been trying to avoid: Meg once again feeling abandoned. Even though it wasn’t my choice, I couldn’t help feeling like an ass.
“We both knew it was coming,” I said gently. “We knew they wouldn’t let this go on forever.”
“This is my fault,” she whispered. “If you hadn’t gotten involved with me,
they probably wouldn’t have worried about you. They’d let you go to Key West. They’d let you keep fighting.”
“Maybe,” I said, unable to lie, “but maybe not. We all knew this was temporary.”
I let my hands fall from her shoulders as I looked around. The fight would be starting soon, but the crowd was thinner tonight than usual. Of the few people who had managed to drag themselves in, most didn’t look so hot. It wasn’t just the hacking that seemed to constantly echo through the air, either. I watched as across the room, a man in his fifties leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. He acted like he barely had the strength to stand.
“This flu is going to get worse before it gets better.” I once again focused on Meg. “Remember what I heard at the Regulator’s house?”
She nodded. “I know. Half my crew was out sick today.”
“They did this.”
“I know.”
Meg let out a deep breath and looked across the room. “I’m sorry. I still feel like this is my fault.”
“It’s my fault. I’m the one who got sent to DC.”
“You did it to save your sister,” she let out a deep breath and turned back to face me. “I’m glad I met you.”
“Me too.”
I pulled her in for a hug even though I really wanted to kiss her. I would have done it too, if it hadn’t been for the fact that I was sure it would make this goodbye that much harder on her. I wanted to be fair. Needed to be. It was the least I could do for her.
“How sweet,” someone sneered from behind Meg.
I pulled back but kept my hand on her arm as together we turned to face Jackson. He was only a foot away from us, and behind him stood a group of people close to his age.
His brown eyes flashed as he looked back and forth between Meg and me. “I should have known you were screwing the convict.”
Twisted World Series Box Set | Books 1-3 & Novella Page 26