“You’re not a child, so pick your head up and look at me,” she says, voice ringing with the unquestioned authority unique to mothers. I do as I’m told and meet her eyes once again.
“I know you’re hurting right now,” she says. “Barr. The mole. All these snakes around us we can’t trust. It’s a lot to deal with, and I know you’re dealing with more than most. It’s not fair that so much is put on you, but that’s life. Rarely do we get to choose our burdens. All we can do is carry them the best we can, refuse to let them break us. That’s why I’m here. I refuse to let them break you.
“We would not have made it this far without you, son. We might not have made it out of Rockridge if it weren’t for you all showing up when you did. Everything that’s happened between then and now, it happened because you were at the center of it—leading, making the hard choices others were too afraid to make. I don’t know what the future holds. Between Barr raging war with his mole, and the disunity here, things are looking dark indeed. The only thing I’m certain of is that we still need you if we’re going to pull through it. We need all of you.
“So whatever guilt you’re carrying, whatever doubt you’re feeling, you need to let it go. You need to move past it. Only by doing so can you be the man we all need you to be.”
The knot in my chest unwinds ever so slightly, sending a lump rising to my throat. I blink back tears as her hands close around my own.
“I don’t tell you this to add to your burdens, but because I need you to know the truth, as hard as it might be to hear. You are my son. I have loved you from the moment you entered this world, and I will love you until the day I leave it. I will always be here for you, will always help you. But only you can find the path forward.”
She stands and leans down, kissing the crown of my head. “We’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”
I don’t turn as she moves past. I listen intently, hardly breathing as her footsteps carry her out of the room and are silenced with the gentle click of the closing door. The moment I’m sure she’s gone I feel my lungs inflate, my body desperately drawing in a shuddering breath. I let it out in one giant exhale, the knot in my chest loosening further as I let go more than air. Tears sting my eyes as I recall her words, her honesty not something I was prepared for.
Let go of the guilt. Let go of the doubt.
I try my best to heed my mother’s advice, but all I can see are my mistakes and failures that litter the road here. I see the guards slain in the basement. I see the dozens of people who were maimed during the fight to take the DoubleTree and the fifty-nine Barr killed when he learned of our takeover. My mind takes me further back than that—to the burning buildings of Philip’s ranch, and my Aunt Virginia’s fiery pyre we lit only a week before.
I see Maya the day after we arrived in Durango, the sunlight framing her face as we sat in my parent's backyard and spoke of the future. I swore to her that we could start over, that we could build a life of peace for us and our family. Now she too is gone, and that promise feels as cold and empty as her corpse was as I laid her down inside her grave.
I squeeze my eyes tight, a stream of tears leaking past as I bury my face into a pillow and scream at the top of my lungs. The scream continues, stretches on and on. One becomes two. Two becomes three. Now that I’ve started, I can’t seem to stop, my frustration coming out in roars of anger and anguish.
“I’m sorry,” I say. I don’t even know who I speak to, but I find the words coming out on their own accord. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” a voice behind me sounds. “You’ve nothing to apologize for.”
I turn with a start to find Lauren staring at me, my muffled screams drowning the sound of the door opening and closing.
I wipe my eyes hastily. “Lauren, I—” I half rise from the mattress when she reaches me and guides me back down. She sits next to me and frames my face with her hands.
“Stop,” she says, the word soft as a whisper yet draped with the authority of a command. “No more lies. No more pretending. Let it go.”
I choke with the effort to keep the waters back, afraid of drowning this girl in my darkness.
“Look at me, Morgan,” she says. When I refuse to meet her eyes she takes my face into her hands once again and forces me to. At times I look into her eyes and see peace. Tranquility. The shades of a summer forest in early morning sunlight. I don’t see peace now, however. I see an ocean in storm, a dozen shades of green swirling and crashing together like waves against a rocky coastline.
“I already told you: you’ll never have to do this on your own,” she says. “Now let it go.”
I blink, and I know there is no holding the waters back now. I come undone. I weep without restraint or abandon. I weep for loved ones lost. I weep for the bodies piling up as we rage this war with Barr. I weep for myself even if I don’t deserve to. I weep for everything I’ve kept bottled up, all of the emotions I’ve buried beneath the mask I wear, refusing to acknowledge them for fear of what they might do to me. They take their revenge now.
I weep until my eyes hurt. Until my head feels numb and foggy. After a while, the tears cease and I lie spent in her arms. I kiss her hand and roll over so that we lay facing each other on the bed. Not a word is said for the longest time, the only sound within the room that of our breaths and beating hearts. Her fingers weave through my hair as I stare into her eyes, a calm I haven’t felt in days washing over me as the shadows lengthen along the wall. As it’s often been before, I want nothing more than to remain here, just her and me, all our pain and problems forgotten as we lose ourselves into each other. Let the world burn for all I care. Let this moment stretch into infinity. A soft hand against my face. The warmth of the girl I love. A pair of eyes I could live and die inside. This is all I need.
Then, like a pebble tossed upon a pond, her eyes begin to ripple, and in their reflection, I see the faces of those I care about. My mother and father. Leon, Emily, Felix, and Grace. It’s not just my family I see, but those who have stood by my side and helped me survive this long and twisted journey. Elroy, the man who saved us on the trail and made me believe in a better future. Philip, Lylette’s father who spoke on our behalf and then stuck his neck out on the line by helping us. He’s dead now, along with dozens of his people, guilty of nothing but surviving the best they could. I see them, and I feel the rage I had lost burn hot inside me.
We’ve come too far and sacrificed too much to give up now. Barr may have the upper hand, but he is not invincible. The fact that we are here is proof of that. There’s a way to stop him. There has to be. He won’t win. I’ll see to that myself even if it costs me everything. Before my heart beats its last, I will see him beat his.
I draw Lauren’s face to mine and kiss her once atop the forehead.
“We’re still going to build a future together,” I say
She smiles, the sight warming me like a sudden blast of sunlight, making me truly believe the words I say.
“You bet your ass we are.”
As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door a moment later, followed by Emily’s voice. I sit up and wipe my eyes as Lauren rises to let her in. She enters the door, but she’s not alone. With her are Leon, Felix, Richard, Frank, and behind them all, a timid looking man I’ve yet to meet. That’s not the case, I learn, with Lauren.
“Nick, you came!” she says. “You changed your mind?”
“I still reserve judgment,” he says. “I’m only here now as a source.”
“A source?” she asks confused. She looks to the others.
“Don’t look at us,” Felix says. “Said he would only talk to you.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Because you came across me as a genuinely kind person,” he says. “You treated me with kindness and respect.” He glares once at Felix and Leon. “It’s not something I’ve grown accustomed to.”
“Ok...” she says, as taken aback at the man’s eccentricities as I am.
“I came to t
ell you I saw something...I’m just not sure exactly what it is.” I exchange a glance with Lauren, and I see the nearly imperceptible nod she gives me.
“Why don’t you sit down?” she says, offering him a chair across from us. “And start at the beginning.”
Chapter 18: (Lauren)
Nick sits on the edge of the chair, his eyes scanning the room as would a caged animal, seeking any means of escape. And yet he’s here. He came despite condemning the place, calling us fools to try and co-exist with the Animals we liberated. So why come? Why put himself in a building full of people he despises and mistrusts?
“As I said earlier, I would prefer to talk to you alone,” Nick says. I feel Morgan tense beside me, a huff of agitation escaping him. I place my hand atop his and speak before he says anything to scare Nick away.
“I trust these people with my life,” I say. “You can trust them with whatever you came to tell me.”
His eyes don’t miss much. I watch them shift from our joined hands to Morgan’s tense face, to the others situated about the room. He observes them all with an air of cool scrutiny as if deciding whether to divulge his information. Finally, he nods.
“On your own head, so be it,” he says. He clears his throat before continuing.
“After you left yesterday, I scattered. Don’t be offended. It’s not that I didn’t trust you, it’s that I don’t trust anybody. I made that mistake early on...it’s one I don’t intend on repeating.”
He grows silent for a moment, his words suddenly bitter. He shakes his head quickly and takes a deep breath.
“Anyway, I left. Made for another safe house I had up north. I had nearly made it when I came across something...strange.”
“In what way?” I ask.
“In every way,” he says. “I was coming from the river trail, was about to cut across the bridge on 32nd street when I noticed them. Don’t know who they were, but there were a lot of them, twenty at least. And they were hiding.”
“Hiding?” Morgan asks.
“What it looked like,” Nick says. “They were all armed to the teeth and spread out along the end of the bridge. They weren’t moving, weren’t speaking. It’s like they were just waiting for someone. It looked like an ambush, one I didn’t want any part of. But by the time I noticed them I was nearly on top of them. Had to dive behind a snowbank so they didn’t see me. I didn’t want to press my luck twice, so I stayed put. Figured they would have to move on eventually.”
My mind turns, thinking over the story Nick tells. The numbers. The weapons. It sounds like the Animals. But why would Barr set a trap on a bridge? What purpose does that serve when surely the mole sent word that we were heading for supplies in town?
“Turns out, I didn’t have to wait long,” Nick continues. “About a minute later I saw a group heading down the road from the opposite side of the bridge. By this point, I knew it was a trap, but there was nothing I could do. Anything I did would have blown my cover and then I’d be just as screwed. I didn’t have a choice but to stay put.”
“There were five of them,” Nick says. He pauses and shakes his head. When he continues, his voice has grown gruff. “They didn’t stand a chance. Halfway across the bridge, the people I spotted sprang their trap, and so did their counterparts on the opposite side of the bridge. I underestimated the numbers. There had to have been fifty at least.”
There were five of them.
A chilling thought occurs to me, sending a shiver down my spine from skull to tailbone. I share a look with Morgan who looks just as disturbed.
“What did they do to them?” Morgan asks.
“Ordered them to drop their weapons and get on their knees,” he says. “They had to comply. There were too many guns on them to do anything else. So they dropped their guns and knelt in the snow.” A dark look passes his face. “At least most of them did.”
My pulse quickens, dots connecting with rapid clarity. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“Soon as their weapons were collected, one of them was hauled to his feet,” Nick says. “Walked right up to one of them and hugged him like a long lost brother. The dirty traitor had to have been in on it. Led the others straight to the wolves. Even from where I was, I could hear the other men’s curses, their cries of betrayal. They turned to cries for mercy before long. They were wasting their breaths. The only mercy they were granted was that of a quick death.”
“What happened next?” Morgan asks.
Nick starts as if he had forgotten we were here. “Right,” he says. “That’s why I came. After they killed the others, they dispersed from the bridge. I didn’t catch much of what they were saying, but I caught a few words: DoubleTree...and you.”
“Me?” Morgan asks.
Nick nods. “They said something about breaking someone named Morgan. Something about it being the key to turning the grunts. Like I said, I couldn’t hear much.” He eyes Morgan. “I’m assuming you are the ‘Morgan’ they spoke of?”
Morgan doesn’t answer, but Nick takes his silence as confirmation. “I thought so,” he says. “Anyway, I don’t know what the hell I saw exactly, but I knew it concerned you. Figured the least I could do was let you know.”
A cold, tense silence follows, each of us absorbing the story we were just told. The shiver I felt earlier returns, spreading from my spine to the rest of my body. What he just said can’t possibly be true, but what reason would he have to lie? I look briefly at the others, each of whom looks as troubled as I feel.
“What happened to the man?” Richard asks, speaking for the first time. “The one that betrayed his men. Did he go with them?”
“No,” Nick says. “They talked for a few minutes and shook hands. After that, they parted ways. The gang took off up 32nd street. They must have had some vehicles hidden out of sight. I heard the engines start up and disappear. As for the man, he used the river trail to head south. Ran right past me.”
“Is there anything else you can think of?” Morgan asks. “Did you hear any scrap of a plan or a location they might be at?”
“No,” Nick says. “I was too far away to hear much of anything.”
There’s a brief pause, one, I’m sure, where we are all wondering the same thing: where does this leave us? Where do we go from here?
“Thank you, Nick,” I say when I can’t stand the silence any longer.
“Like I said, it was the least I could do.”
Morgan stands and offers Nick his hand to shake. “From what I gather, you don’t have much love for this place, but you would be more than welcome to stay,” he says. “Between us, it might not be safe if you were to leave here. There were a lot of eyes who saw your arrival. And with our situation being a bit...complicated at the moment, it might be best if you stayed.”
“I’m paranoid, not slow,” Nick says. “I knew coming here had risks. And as one who prefers to minimize such risks, I will take you up on your offer. For now at least.”
“I’m assuming you would prefer a private room?” Morgan asks.
Nick smiles. “You would assume correctly.”
Leon and Emily are placed with the task of securing Nick a room. It goes without saying that we want to keep this quiet as possible. The moment the door clicks, I stand.
“Owen’s the mole,” I say, the chill inside me turning into a sudden burst of adrenaline. I have to stand, my mind connecting dots left and right. Who was in the vehicle with Barr when he was tipped off of what happened? Owen. Who was the first on the scene when the first body was found? Owen. Who insisted on leading a team in search for Barr, and was the only person of that team to return alive? Owen. All this time he’s acted as a voice for the Animals. Clever. Who would suspect their champion would be their betrayer?
“We don’t know that for sure,” Morgan says.
I look at him incredulously. “Of course it is,” I say. “Did you not just hear the story Nick told us?”
“Yes, I did,” Morgan says. “Which is my point. We have no evidence. Just
his word that this story is fact.”
“He’s right,” Frank says, breaking his silence for the first time. “We don’t know this man. For all we know this could be a ruse designed by Barr to create a rift between us.”
“You weren’t there when we found him,” I say. “He was terrified we were Animals. He hates them as much as any of us. He’s as much of a spy as he was a lookout.”
“I’ve seen some convincing actors in my time,” Frank says.
“Yeah, me too,” I say. “Owen had us all convinced.”
Frank opens his mouth to reply when Morgan intervenes. “Both of you, give it a break,” he says. Frank glares at him but speaks no more. I’m not so easily muted.
“Give it a break?” I ask. “What we need to break is the door off of Owen’s room, and lock him up.
Richard scoffs. “And I thought I had the hot-head,” he says.
“You do,” I snap.
“Then how can I see how that won’t do anything but possibly tear this place apart?” he asks. “Look, I’m not saying Owen’s not the mole. But either way, the rest of the Animals here trust him. Right now a lot of them are on our side because of him. We go in with this flimsy of evidence, and they will turn on us. We need something concrete.”
“Then let’s give it to them,” Felix says.
“You have a plan?” Morgan asks.
Felix smirks. “Why do you think I’ve been so quiet?”
An hour later we put Felix’s plan into action. I walk down the hallway with Morgan, avoiding the glances thrown our way the best I can, afraid they will see the unease on my face and know we are up to something. It’s no easy feat. Everyone in the vicinity seems to turn their gaze on us, and despite trying to keep my head down, I can’t help but notice the frostiness of some of their stares. Worse is the sudden silence that greets us as we draw level with them, and the buzz of conversation once we’ve passed. I try not to take it personally, but the truth is, I do. We helped them and now they resent us for it. Barr attacks and they look at us as if we were accountable—as if the loved ones they’ve lost were because of us instead of the man who killed them.
Echoes of a Dying World (Book 3): A Dream of Tomorrow Page 24