The QuaranTeens, #1

by Keith B Darrell

  “We’re going back to the bunker,” Covid said. “We’d like you to come with us.”

  “We have food and supplies, and no one has ever attacked us, at least so far,” Corona said. “I know you’d make a lot of friends there.”

  “You could show us how to use those bows,” Kai said. “And you could always leave whenever you wanted to.”

  Robin gave Maga a distrustful stare. “Is she joining you there?”

  “Maga saved my life,” Corona said. “I owe it to her to save hers. Her own people want to kill her because she helped me. The Utopians are her enemies now, too. You have that in common.”

  “We all do,” Kai said.

  “Give us a minute to talk it over,” Archer said. He and Robin stepped back toward Granny’s grave.

  Robin looked down at her grave. “Ain’t right to leave her. This is our home.”

  “She ain’t gonna be with us no more, even if we stay. The others neither. It’d be just you and me.”

  “It’ll always be just you and me, wherever we are. We’re the only kin we got now.”

  “True. What would Granny say to do?”

  Robin chuckled. “Prob’ly tell us to quit jabbering and pack our stuff before them kids come to their senses and change their minds.”

  “Yep, that sounds like Granny, fer sure.” Archer looked down at the grave and turned back to Robin. “Ready to go?”

  Robin nodded. She looked down at Granny’s grave. “We’re gonna get whoever done this. That’s a promise, Granny.”

  Archer nodded. “A promise.”

  They turned and joined the group. “We done talked it over,” Archer said. “We’d like to come stay fer a spell.”

  “Go pack your things,” Covid said.

  “Are you still planning to stop at the grove and pick up my not-a-sports-car?” Kai asked.

  Covid asked Archer, “Do you have an extra half-dozen horses and some rope?”

  “We got a dozen horses in the corral. There’s seven of us. If’n one of us rides double, we do.”

  Covid turned to Kai. “Looks like we’re getting you a not-a-sports-car.” He grinned. “Provided you teach me how to drive it.”

  Archer and Robin went into their trailer to pack the few belongings they wanted to bring with them. Maga stared at the St. Sebastian medal in her hand before slipping it into her pocket.

  Corbin stepped into the classroom. Varian was seated at a small table waiting for him. “Why did you want to meet here and not in your room?” Corbin asked.

  “I’m meeting a few other people today and the bedrooms are too small to conduct meetings with more than one person. They were designed to be quite minimalist with little room for more than a bed and nightstand. And to be perfectly honest, Corbin, I find the thought of you sitting on my bed abhorrent.” Corbin winced. “Whereas the classroom is much larger – especially after I moved a couple of desks into the hall – and practically unused lately.” Varian ruminated. “Perhaps I should mandate classes, at least for the younger children. They really should be learning. It would give them something constructive to do with their time instead of going around singing songs all day.”

  “I imagine you’re not a music fan after Lucian’s funeral.”

  Varian grew annoyed. “Was there a particular reason you requested this meeting or did you simply wish to antagonize me?”

  “I’m sorry. My bad. Actually, I’m here to help you. I’ve come across some information I’m sure you’ll find most important.”

  “Well?” Varian asked impatiently. “What is it?”

  “Of course, information this important doesn’t come cheap. I was thinking three thousand credits.”

  Varian laughed. “What could you have to tell me that could possibly be worth that much? Get out of here, Corbin. I have things to do.”

  Corbin turned and took two steps toward the door. “Now I feel guilty. I should at least give you a heads-up. A group of people are plotting against you. Have a nice day.” He took two more steps toward the door.

  “Wait!”

  Corbin stopped without turning back. “Yes?”

  “Who is it? Who’s conspiring against me?”

  Corbin pivoted. “There’s only so much information I can give freely. If you want names, those will come with a price: five thousand credits.”

  Varian frowned. “You said three thousand credits a moment ago.”

  “Did I? I don’t recall. If I did, you probably should have accepted then. It would’ve been cheaper than paying six thousand credits.”

  “You just said five thousand.”

  “And you didn’t agree to that either.”

  Varian slammed his fist on the table. “All right, I agree. I’ll have six thousand credits for you tonight. Now give me the names.”

  “Keiana. Ian. Dax. And the one most passionate in his animosity toward you, Tristan.”

  Varian grimaced. “Remarkable. You’ve actually provided me with something of value. Meet me here tonight after dinner to collect your credits.”

  Corbin smiled and headed to the door.

  “Corbin,” Varian called out. “Tell me, how does it feel to betray your friends?”

  “Friends?” Corbin cocked his head. “What an archaic concept. It must come from the time before the plague.” He continued out the door. He saw Arlo and Nico heading his way. Corbin quickly hid behind the desks Varian had moved into the hall. The two enforcers stepped up to the library doorway.

  Varian greeted them curtly. “Come into my new office.”

  Arlo and Nico stepped inside.

  “What happened?” Varian asked.

  “What do you mean?” Nico asked.

  “Don’t play games with me. I’m talking about Lucian.”

  “You told us to take care of him,” Arlo said.

  “I told you to teach him a lesson. He can’t learn anything if he’s dead. Now, I’ll ask you one more time: what happened?”

  “I broke his fingers to stop him from writing any more songs,” Arlo said.

  “And?” Varian asked, growing impatient.

  “And the brat bit me.”

  “So you killed him because he bit you?"

  “No, of course not. Nico punched him.”

  Varian turned to Nico. “It must have been one hell of a punch.”

  Nico’s eyes darted about the room, looking everywhere except at Varian. “It might’ve been more than one.”

  “He stopped breathing,” Arlo said. “Not what we intended but it got him out of your hair.”

  “You idiots. You’ve given me an even bigger problem. You’ve made him a martyr. You saw what happened at the funeral. People are still singing that damn song but now it’s to honor his memory. And his best friend Tristan is going to make sure everyone believes I was responsible for Lucian’s death until they finally run me out of the bunker. Get out of here. I’m sick of looking at you two.”

  Arlo and Nico exchanged glances. They left the classroom, closing the door behind them. They stood outside the door in front of the desks Corbin was hiding behind. Corbin had already learned some valuable new information: Varian hadn’t ordered them to kill Lucian. And he also now knew the details of Lucian’s death. All he had to do was wait until the two enforcers left so he could emerge from his hiding place and determine the best way to profit from what he had discovered.

  “He’s mad at us,” Nico said.

  “It’s because of the stink Tristan’s kicking up,” Arlo said. “But that’s easy to fix and get back on Varian’s good side.”

  “How?”

  “Same as before: We remove the problem. But this time, we do it on purpose. We make a plan and we don’t leave a body behind.”

  “How can we do that?”

  “The same way other bodies have left the bunker: the furnace.”

  “We can’t carry a dead body all the way to the furnace. Someone would see us.”

  “We don’t carry anything,” Arlo said. “We lure Tristan to the
furnace and push him in. One shove and it’s over. He disappears and no one will ever know what happened. Maybe they’ll think he left the bunker like Corona and Covid. No one gets blamed and Tristan doesn’t become a martyr like Lucian. People forget about him, Lucian, and the song and Varian will be happy.”

  Nico grinned. “When do we do it?”

  “Tonight. The sooner we get this over with, the better.” They walked away, leaving Corbin to digest what he had overheard. Corbin waited several minutes to make sure the enforcers were far enough away that they wouldn’t see him emerge from his hiding place and then he came around from behind the desks. He pondered whom he could bargain with to obtain the maximum return for this new information. Obviously, Tristan would be the most interested but the boy had nothing to offer Corbin. Keiana might well become Varian’s successor and having her indebted to him could prove highly beneficial. But Keiana was overly controlling and considered herself too principled to make deals. But, he thought, Dax was another story. Corbin started down the hall when he encountered Esme.

  “Corbin, have you seen Varian?” Esme asked.

  “In the classroom.” Corbin gestured behind him as he rushed to find Dax.

  Esme proceeded to the classroom. She opened the door and saw Varian seated at the desk. “I’ve been looking for you. You weren’t in your room.”

  “Too many people are looking for me today. I needed some space.”

  “We need to talk about our relationship.”

  Varian sighed. “Esme, I’m having a really stressful afternoon. I’m not in the mood to pander to your insecurities. Come to my room tonight and we can do the usual relationship stuff then.” He looked up and saw the annoyed look on her face. He realized he hadn’t phrased that right, so he added, “You’re beautiful and yes, I still love you.”

  “Well, I don’t love you, Varian. And you’re ugly. Maybe not on the outside, but on the inside where it really counts.”

  Varian’s eyes widened. “Esme, what are you –?”

  “I don’t want you to touch me after what you did to Lucian. Just the thought makes my skin crawl.”

  “I didn’t do anything to Lucian. I was with you the whole time. You even told everyone that.”

  “Yeah, you were with me setting up your alibi while your enforcers Arlo and Nico killed that little boy.”

  “I don’t need an alibi. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “I saw you send for them.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t tell them to murder Lucian. I had no idea the kid was dead until we found out this morning. They were supposed to beat him up, not kill him.”

  “You think sending two 19-year-old thugs to beat up a 13-year-old boy is all right? You couldn’t even do your own dirty work.”

  Varian grimaced. “No, it’s not like it sounds. I just wanted to put him in place. Scare him into line. I sent them because Arlo and Nico look physically intimidating; I don’t. I didn’t think Lucian would be frightened by me. I thought they’d shove him around, he’d be terrified of what they might do, and he’d drop the whole stupid song business.”

  “I guess we both know why he’d have good reason to be terrified of Arlo and Nico now, don’t we?”

  “Esme, if I had known what they were going to do—”

  “Yes, Varian? Let me hear you say it. You can’t, can you? You were paranoid. You thought Lucian threatened your grip on the one thing you truly care about: power. You thought his song was going to turn everyone against you and they’d chose a new leader. And then, not only would you lose power, but you’d be disgraced and never get it back. You didn’t care about me or what we had. You thought you were going to lose what really mattered most to you and you’d have done anything to prevent that.”

  “No! Not anything.” Varian slammed his fist on the table and looked up at Esme. “Yes, I want to be our leader. But only to help everyone. Our lives are at risk every day and I know I’m the only one capable of dealing with the hardships and threats we’re going to face.” He looked away. “Maybe I did take advantage of my position; maybe I made mistakes. I’m only three years older than you, Esme. I’m still a kid. I make mistakes; my judgment isn’t always perfect. Is anyone else’s’?”

  Esme didn’t reply.

  “Do you really think I’m capable of murdering one of us?”

  Esme sighed. “Yes,” she said softly.

  Varian was visibly shaken by her reply. He cocked his head. “You think I’m that kind of… monster? I’m sorry, Esme. I’m sorry Lucian’s dead. I’m sorry I made decisions people think are unfair. I’m sorry I trusted Arlo and Nico. And I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk to you. But I’m going to change. I’ll prove to you I’m not the monster you think I am.”

  Esme shook her head. “It’s too late. I found someone else to be with.”

  Varian gaped. “What? Who?” he asked, stunned.

  “Blaine.”

  Varian’s eyes widened. “That wimp? You called him pathetic. Is this a joke?”

  “No. Blaine doesn’t have your drive, or your charisma, or your looks. He’s needy and insecure and he does come off as pathetic. But he’s also kind and decent… and he’ll never need to prove to me that he’s not a monster.” She turned and headed out the door. “See you around the bunker, Varian.”

  Varian slumped into the chair and placed his face in his hands. He was not having a good day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Arlo waited in Blaine’s room for nearly half an hour before he saw the door push open. He stayed hidden behind the door as Blaine entered and pulled off his shirt over his head. Blaine tossed the shirt onto the bed and took a clean one from the trundle drawer beneath the bed and slipped it on. Arlo shut the door, causing Blaine to jump in surprise and turn around. “What are you doing in my room?” Blaine gulped as Arlo took a step toward him.

  “Waiting for you.”

  “What do you want, Arlo?”

  “Not me. Varian. He wants you to deliver a message.”

  “Tell him I’m not his errand boy anymore.”

  Arlo looked surprised. He pulled back Blaine’s shirt collar and peered down his back. “I don’t believe it. You’ve developed a spine. A real backbone.” He released his finger from Blaine’s collar. “But you don’t want to make me tell Varian you refused a simple thing like delivering a message. That’d make me look bad to Varian. Do you want to get Varian mad at me? That wouldn’t be a nice thing to do to a friend like me. We are friends, aren’t we?” He placed his firm, intimidating grip on Blaine’s shoulder.

  Blaine gulped. “Sure. Friends.”

  Arlo smiled. “Varian feels bad about what happened at the furnace this morning with Tristan. He doesn’t want any more hard feelings with Tristan. He wants to apologize and beg for his forgiveness. But you know how proud Varian is. He doesn’t want anyone to see him grovel. All you have to do is tell Tristan that Varian will be waiting by the furnace in an hour.”

  “It’ll take more than an apology to make up for the loss of his best friend.”

  “Of course. But it’s a good start. From there, Tristan could set any terms he wishes and Varian feels guilty enough to agree so he can cleanse his conscience and ease his guilt. But Tristan can’t let anyone know… at least, not yet. This meeting will be humiliating enough for a proud guy like Varian. Who knows? After this meeting, he might even get Varian to confess his sins publicly and step down as leader.”

  “You think Varian would really do that?”

  “Guilt weighing on your conscience can be a powerful force. Just tell Tristan and let him decide.” Arlo walked to the door. “I’ll let myself out.” He stepped into the hall and headed to join Nico at the furnace.

  Blaine walked into the social area just as Corbin was leaving. “Hey, Blaine,” Corbin said. “I’ve been looking for Dax. Have you seen her?”

  Blaine shook his head. “Not for several hours. Last I saw her, she was with Fiona.”

  “Thanks.” Corbin headed to Fiona’s room. Blaine sp
otted Tristan sitting by himself, looking depressed. He approached him.

  “That was a nice tribute to Lucian this morning.”

  Tristan looked up. “Thanks. No offense, but I’d really like to be alone.”

  Blaine nodded. “I understand. We all miss him. It won’t be the same without gathering around to hear him singing. I remember when he – hey, I’m sorry. I know you said you wanted to be alone.”

  “No, it’s all right. It helps to know other people miss him too.”

  “Everyone misses him. Maybe not as much as you, but we all do.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Just so you know, I’m not going to have anything to do with Varian anymore. I mean, I agreed to pass on a message to you, but after that I doubt we’ll even speak to each other… especially since I’m with Esme now.” Blaine saw the surprise register on Tristan’s face.

  “You and Esme? You stole Varian’s girl?” Tristan broke out laughing. “I wish I could have seen his face when he found out.” He kept laughing. “That’s the first time I’ve laughed since I heard about Lucian.”

  “It’s good to hear you laugh. It’s bad enough we lost our singer; it’d be terrible if we also lost our comedian.”

  Tristan looked at Blaine.

  “We need songs and jokes to get us through the monotony of living in an underground hole. You’ve both made all our lives more bearable; happier, even.”

  “I never thought of it that way.” Tristan paused. “You said you had a message?”

  Blaine nodded. “You really got to Varian this morning at the furnace.”

  “Yeah, he looked pissed.”

  “Maybe, but it must have weighed on his conscience all day. The guilt’s eating at him. He wants you to forgive him.”

  “Fat chance of that. I’d sooner spit in his face.”

  Blaine shrugged. “You could do that too. He’s going to be waiting all night at the furnace, where we said goodbye to Lucian. He’s desperate to be forgiven by you.”

  “Tell him to come here to the social area and ask everyone to forgive him.”

  Blaine shook his head. “You know how proud and cocky Varian is. He’d have to work up to that. Right now he just wants to beg you for forgiveness first. He’ll be ashamed enough groveling in front of you in the very spot Lucian’s body was honored. You might even be able to make him resign. I mean, if he wants something from you, don’t you get to set the terms? Anyway, I just said I’d pass on the message. It’s up to you, but don’t tell anyone; at least, not until afterward, if you do go.”