The Legacy: The Influencers Book 2 (The Society)

by Kassandra Garrison

  Ben wore a t-shirt and jeans as he unloaded boxes from the truck with the other men. I looked from the window of the orphanage as he smiled and spoke with the villagers. He clapped another man on the back as they unloaded the last of the supplies.

  Since his conversation with Ouma, he seemed free. It seemed so natural as if he belonged here helping people. I witnessed his soul blossom with the love and kindness he had been taught to hide because it was claimed to make him weak. But he never looked stronger.

  I wanted to show him the orphanage, to show him that his parents left so much more than just the soured Society. But he had found so much more than I could have imagined.

  More surprising was that I found something, too. Not the love for the village or its people. I had found that on my first trip and had never lost it.

  No, I had rediscovered myself in this world. For so long, I had defined myself by what had happened to me in life. Losing my mom, being kidnapped by the Influencers, finding Ben.

  But, as I looked out at the villagers communing in the courtyard, a sudden realization struck the core of my being. This fight was not only Ben’s. It was the villagers’, the soccer moms’, Kate’s unborn child’s fight. It was a fight for mankind. Most importantly, it was my fight. And I would do anything to win.

  ***

  Ouma had arranged for Ben and me to sleep in one of the orphanage’s small offices. I could hear Ben’s rhythmic breathing as we laid next to one another on the firm mats they provided to us.

  My mind refused to tire as I stared up at the ceiling. Though Ben and I had utilized our time in the village to help with whatever we could, we both knew the real reason we had come: to find the third piece for the device Ben’s dad had created to destroy the Society.

  In our free time, Ben and I walked through the village searching for any sign Charles or Olivia might have left behind. However, no matter how many times we walked the streets and how many places we looked, our search remained fruitless.

  Ben’s whisper broke the silence of the room as he looked over at me from where he lay. His green eyes sparkled in the darkness as he searched my face.

  Maybe I missed something.

  No, we would have found it by now. We’ve searched everywhere.

  Then maybe there is no piece here. There were other locations in his notebook. Maybe that love note in his notebook wasn’t a hint and we’ve just gotten lucky with the locations so far.

  Don’t doubt yourself now. You’ll find it. Don’t worry.

  He shook his head and brushed his hands through his hair. Our constant travel had allowed it to grow longer, creating a need for him to push it away from his forehead. In the midst of my study of him, I heard gunshots in the distance.

  Ben shot up from our pallet and grabbed his boots, throwing them on over the cuffs of his jeans. I jumped up from the pallet and grabbed my own shoes. When I looked up to find Ben, I saw the flash of his pistol as he shoved it into the waistband of his jeans. As soon as I had my combat boots zipped up on both feet, Ben grabbed my hand and pulled me into the hall.

  A window on the opposite side of the hall allowed a glow to illuminate the dark foyer. Outside, there were several huts on fire. Villagers were running from between the shelters in a panic.

  Ben turned to me and scanned over my face quickly. I could see fear in his eyes. The village was being attacked. The same event which took his parents’ lives was happening to us. Then, the soldier in him took over.

  Darcy, gather the children and keep them inside. Protect them.

  You’re going out there alone?

  I have to. People are going to die. They’re here for us, Darcy. Warden is recreating my parents’ death.

  Be careful, Ben.

  He pulled me into a firm kiss before letting me go and heading toward the front door. Looking back one last time, Ben slipped through the entrance into the darkness of the night and out of sight.

  Looking around the hall, I ran toward the large room where the children slept. As I hurried past a small room to my right, Ouma came out into the hall and grabbed my arm.

  They are back, aren’t they?

  She knew. All along, she knew about the Influencers, about the society Charles and Olivia had created, the reason for their deaths and for the first raid.

  Yes, Ouma. Come quickly. We need to protect the children.

  Here, take this, child.

  In the darkness of the hallway, Ouma raised a thick wooden, roughly shaped club. She pushed the weapon into my hands and then began walking as quickly as she could toward the children’s room.

  As we neared the door, we could hear muffled sounds of the orphans. My heart broke when I heard their cries as Ouma opened the door. Her small voice reassured them and directed them to be quiet.

  It’s okay. Gather here with me in the corner away from the windows. But you must be quiet so they do not find us. Quickly now.

  I could hear the sobbing of the youngest children as Ouma attempted to hide them from sight. My hands touched their tiny backs as I glanced toward the window to the ever-nearing glow of the fire.

  The screams of the villagers outside could be heard as we sat in the darkness of the children’s room, listening for any intruders. Then, suddenly, the sound of the front door crashing open reverberated through the orphanage. They were coming.

  As I looked to Ouma, I raised the bat she had given me and stared into her wise eyes. Their dark color was even more piercing in the glow of the fire. With hands on the shoulders of the cowering orphans, she nodded to me firmly.

  Without another moment of hesitation, I made my way across the room, through the door, and into the hallway. Clinging to the darkest corners of the hall, I stealthily tiptoed toward the front door.

  I could hear several voices near the front of the building. They were checking the offices first, likely looking for Ben and me. Where was Ben? Had they already captured him and were only searching for me now?

  Clearing my head, I focused on the sound of the intruders as I drew closer and closer. As I listened to their voices, a part of me was surprised by the clarity of their English.

  Just find them. If they get away, Warden will certainly have our heads.

  The heavy sound of boots approached the corner where I stood hidden behind the wall. Only one of them.

  As a tall and burly man rounded the corner with a rifle propped against his shoulder, I stepped out behind him and swung the bat with all my might. The sound of the wood knocking against the back of his skull was quite audible as another set of footsteps quickened behind me.

  Pressed against the wall, I readied myself for the next assailant. This time, he was ready for my attack. His hands grasped the bat as I swung for his head.

  I’ve got the girl.

  Speaking into his earpiece, the man alerted the rest of the intruders to my presence. As he pulled the bat from my hands and threw it on the ground, I quickly jumped away from his advance.

  As he leaned forward, I stepped behind him and kicked the back of his knee. The crack was discernable as a disgruntled cry escaped his lips. Yet, the well-placed blow was no help to the hands now around my arms. One of his colleagues had come behind me and now held a tight grip of my biceps.

  The now one-legged attacker turned around, grinning as he realized my confinement.

  Warden never said we couldn’t beat her first.

  No, he just said they needed to be alive.

  Every lesson and tactic Ben taught me over the past few months resounded through my mind. As I grinned back at him, his expression of uncertainty only increased my instinct to fight.

  With the help of his friend, I leveraged my leg up into the air, kicking the man’s jaw with the full force of my boot. There was a loud thud as he fell to the ground unconscious.

  His partner growled angrily as he began pulling me to the front door of the orphanage. I could tell by the strength of his hold and the height of his voice that my kidnapper was an enormous man.

 
Dragging my feet, I tried my best to escape his grasp. Suddenly, I heard the hollow sound of wood as it struck a hard surface. Then, my arms were free and my attacker was on the ground, blood pouring from his temple.

  The glow of the fire illuminated the hall as I searched for an answer. There, with Ouma’s bat in hand, Ben stood assessing me with wide eyes. Soot was marked across his face and his shirt was scorched on the front.

  Are you alright, Darcy?

  Yeah. They are here for us.

  I know. Warden sent them.

  We can’t leave the village like this…

  I wasn’t planning on leaving. Here take this bat and go back to the children.

  No.

  I stood firm, maintaining eye contact with his intensely dark eyes.

  You said we are a partnership. It’s time you stop leaving me out of the fight. You can’t shelter me all the time. This is my fight, too.

  After a moment’s hesitation and a glance toward the growing fire, he nodded his head in agreement and looked back at me.

  You’re right. These guys will wake up eventually, so we need to tie them up. I have men outside detaining a couple more of Warden’s men. Then, we need to prevent further destruction of the village.

  I nodded and went in search of rope as Ben watched over the three unconscious bodies in case they woke up. In the utility closet down the hall, I found a bundle of rope and ran back toward where Ben had piled the men against the wall. Their heads were tilted to one side with small amounts of blood dripping from where they had been struck.

  After their hands and feet had been tied securely, Ben and I ran out of the orphanage and into the dirt streets of the village. Several men ran around with damp blankets, attempting to smother the flames on the small huts. Women clutched their crying children to their chest as they avoided the growing flames.

  I would forever hold those images in my mind. The flames engulfing their homes, the children clinging to their mothers as they sobbed, and the men fighting with all their might to save what little they had.

  Hours passed and the flames were gone. Ashes fell onto our heads as we walked through the streets, assessing the damage and helping the wounded. Thankfully, the attackers only used the fire to lure Ben and I out of the orphanage. There were no mortalities, only burns from fighting the flames.

  As I bent down to help a mother who had been severely burned on her arms while saving her child, I looked over to Ben. He was gesturing to a group of men with a radio in their hands.

  I finished wrapping the woman’s arms and smiled down at her curious child. By the time I stood up, Ben and his group were going their separate ways. He looked up at me, ash dusting his dark brown hair and soot still streaked across his cheek.

  They’ve radioed the military to come and get the men. They will most likely be jailed and have a trial.

  Nodding, I looked around at the loss the village had endured in just one night. Ben turned in a circle, looking at the charred roofs and ash-covered ground.

  When we met eye contact again, his expression mirrored my own. Anger. Determination. Readiness.

  We’ve got work to do.

  XVI.

  IN PIECES

  Ben stood over the basin, washing the remaining soot from his arms and face. It was the afternoon after the attack and Warden’s men had already been taken into custody.

  With part of the funds his parents left for him, Ben told the men to radio for a shipment of wood and supplies for rebuilding. The shipment would arrive in a few days and then repairs would begin.

  As I finished dressing, the sound of children playing in the undamaged courtyard of the orphanage could be heard outside the window of the washroom. Before I slipped on my t-shirt, I noticed the bruises left behind on my biceps in the shape of fingerprints.

  As Ben turned away from the basin to face me, he wiped the remaining water from his eyes and immediately found the bruises. Quickly, I threw my shirt over my head and covered my arms with the sleeves. He was not fooled by my quick response but seemed to unhappily dismiss it as a part of our current lifestyle.

  So Ouma wanted to talk with us? When?

  I could see the ripple of his muscles as he pulled his arms through his t-shirt and ran his hands through his hair.

  Yes. As soon as we are done cleaning up.

  As we made our way to the courtyard, Ben grabbed my hand gently with his own. I looked up into his green eyes and grinned as he bent down to kiss my forehead.

  The door to the courtyard opened and allowed the light from outside to impair our vision temporarily. When my eyes adjusted, I saw the small figure of Ouma sitting on a bench surrounded by playing children.

  She leaned to one side and mumbled to another woman who helped at the orphanage before she stood and approached Ben and me.

  You wanted to speak with us, Ouma?

  Yes, yes, come with me.

  Hand in hand, Ben and I slowly followed the village elder out of the courtyard and past a group of shelters near the edge of the village. The huts opened to a small area surrounded by towering green trees. Inside the isolated cove sat two crosses and a crudely built bench.

  This is the memorial for your parents, Benjamin.

  His hand stiffened as he looked down at the two crosses in the middle of the enclosure. Somberly, he looked down at Ouma who kept her head bent toward the memorial.

  I still remember that night years ago. The night your parents were killed. Rogue militants came in the night, but they were not just looking for Charles and Olivia. They were determined to kill whoever crossed their path and burn the entire village to the ground. Your parents, rest their souls, made sure the children were safe before going to save others. They left me, just like you did last night, alone with the children. Only they never came back.

  Ouma’s eyes were wide as she relived that night so many years ago, her brow furrowed in concentration.

  I think they knew the gunmen came for them. Charles and Olivia sacrificed themselves to save the villagers and the orphans. Never have I seen such sacrifice… until last night.

  Suddenly, she looked up at Ben and me, her eyes piercing through our souls.

  I had hoped I would never have to relive that terrible night again. Never again see the destruction by the same group.

  Though Ouma had revealed her knowledge of the Society to me in the dark hall of the orphanage last night, I realized I had forgotten to tell Ben as his head shot up in surprise.

  You know about them?

  Child, I’ve known about them since before your parents passed.

  But…

  I knew that’s why you were here as soon as I saw your face.

  I am so sorry. It’s my fault for leading them here. I should have known they would follow us.

  There is no need to apologize. We are forever indebted to your family.

  Ben kept his head low in humble appreciation of the petite elder looking up into his eyes.

  And in my old age, it took me time to realize exactly why you needed this place.

  Her eyes glanced over at me now and down to the necklace lying on my chest.

  She was the one who gave it to me. Olivia.

  Ben looked over at his mother’s necklace as I brought my hand up to trace the smooth center pearl.

  Her and Charles had helped gather the children in their room whenever they pulled me aside. Olivia pulled something from around her neck and pushed it into the palm of my hand. She said, “Keep this safe. When the time comes, give it to the right person.”

  Ouma reached for the chain around her neck and brought it over her head. On the end of it was a small, thin box. She stepped closer to Ben and gestured for him to bend down to her level.

  He stooped to one knee and looked at the box she now pressed into his palm. As he looked into her eyes, she closed his fingers around the box and searched his face.

  You’re the person I have been waiting for all these years.

  Thank you, Ouma.

  Do not
thank me. Finish this.

  We can’t leave you all like this.

  We have survived much worse. This village is not your responsibility. You have something much larger to accomplish. And when it is all over, come back to visit. Both of you.

  Yes, ma’am.

  She grabbed our hands and smiled, glancing between the two of us.

  Give them my regards.

  With that, she turned and walked back in the direction of the orphanage. Ben and I watched her small figure disappear between the huts before we turned to one another in disbelief.

  He opened his hand and looked down at the small box on the chain. Carefully, he pried it open. Inside was what we had been searching for all along: the third piece to the system.

  ***

  The villagers waved as Bachir started the engine and pulled away from the small group of huts. I could see the orphans jumping around with Ouma in the center of their emphatic farewells.

  They had already begun clearing away the debris to make way for the new materials arriving the next day. Though Ben and I wanted to help with the repairs, we knew it was better for them if we left before Warden sent another group after us.

  As we prepared to board the small plane, Bachir shook our hands vigorously and thanked us for all our help.

  May you have a safe journey and return to us again soon.

  Thank you for everything, Bachir. Be safe and take care of Ouma, alright?

  Absolutely, Miss Darcy, but I don’t think she needs it. She is very strong.

  I laughed at the giant reputation their tiny elder held.

  Yes, she is.

  With one last goodbye, Ben and I boarded the plane and departed from South Sudan to our next destination, Australia. As we sat on the long flight before our layover in Vietnam, I looked over at Ben. Taking advantage of the small plane and scarcity of passengers, he was fully immersed in his father’s notebook.

  What is it?

  I don’t know. I’m just thinking about the plan.