by Beth Martin
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Copyright © 2019 Beth Martin
Cover design by Beth Martin. Robot image by Ociacia/Shutterstock.com. Broken glass texture by Catsence/Shuttertock.com.
Chapter heading font by John Bloor.
ISBN: 978-1795056519
Beth Martin Books
PO Box 2191
Columbia, MD 21045
BethMartinBooks.com
To my wonderful parents
who encourage me to keep writing
and always look forward to when
my next book comes out.
1
THE CLUB ROOM was eerily dark and quiet, not something that Leona was used to. All of the colorful lights, top-of-the-line speakers, and party-going robots had depleted their batteries, leaving the room a husk of its former glory and a somber reminder of her life before everything happened.
The sound of gentle breathing as Roemell’s chest slowly rose and fell meant he was already asleep. She sat up from the hard booth, her makeshift bed for the night, then slipped a flashlight and the note out of her pocket. She held her breath as she clicked the light on and read over the note for what felt like the millionth time.
Please vacate Estate Plot 192 by May 1st or else you will be forcibly removed.
Her family had owned the Poole Estate for generations, and even though the fire had completely destroyed everything on her property, the sting of losing her land over a tax dispute on top of all of the other setbacks kept her from falling asleep.
Roemell made a snorting sound and rolled to the side. She glanced over at him, his figure stretched out on the other bench seat across the table barely visible in the dark room. His black hair had been cropped short and for once his face was cleanly shaved. A pang of envy caught in her throat. She wished she had the same resilience as him as he slept soundly on the hard seat.
Tears pricked at her eyes. The only remaining part of her former home was the basement—but now her favorite hang out was cold, dark, and damp. It was also the only place in the entire mansion that wasn’t open to the sky, and therefore the only shelter available to hide them from the unseasonable rain.
Another soft snore distracted her brain from her cyclone of morbid thoughts. She needed to stop wallowing in self-pity. Sleep was a lost cause, so she rose and crept out of the club room and up the stairs as quietly as she could.
The walls and floor of the entrance hall were blackened with soot, but the morning sun filtering through the rainclouds provided the slightest bit of light through the open ceiling. The wall of windows had been turned into a jagged mess of broken glass, and the doors had fallen off their hinges, hanging at precarious angles. She slipped through the opening and headed out to the courtyard, where she took a seat on the lone bench. Even though she was surrounded by ash and darkness, the inky-blue churning waves of the Pacific Ocean glittered, taunting her with their beauty.
Raindrops plopped onto her head, and she combed her fingers through the tangled curls of her shoulder-length, dark hair. The moisture would make her hair frizz, but there wasn’t much she could do about that. It wasn’t cold out, but the rain gave her a chill. The long-sleeved ‘thermal shirt’ wasn’t nearly warm enough. Roemell had picked out their waffle-patterned tops and canvas pants, deeming both articles as perfectly practical.
Currently, the only thing she wanted to do was check in with the settlement. The small community of poor people living in a network of tents had become her new home over the past couple weeks. She hadn’t discussed anything yet with Roemell, but she assumed he wanted to give them the care package from the VanStraten family—a thank-you gift for thwarting the attack on the VanStraten Estate. The cart of supplies had been meant to help her and Roemell start new on her land, and their dream was to set up a commune where everyone would have a chance to work without the aid of robots. But now, the settlement she had set out to help hated her simply because she had been born wealthy.
Something grasped her shoulder, causing her to jump. She looked up to see Roemell. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He took a seat next to her on the bench. “Did you get any sleep?” he asked, his green eyes searching her face.
“No.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to him. Even though he was also wearing a thermal shirt, his body was warm and inviting. She tried to relax and lean against him, but her muscles were tight and stiff.
His body was lean and efficient, a product of his hard life barely getting by on the streets. Her figure had also slimmed down over the past couple weeks, and all her time in the sun had caused her light-brown complexion to darken to an even deeper shade than his tanned skin.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “This is just a minor setback. Believe me, I’ve been through worse—we’ll figure something out.”
Raindrops mixed with hot tears on her cheeks. “I thought I had already lost everything. I didn’t think losing this plot was even possible.”
He gave her a brief squeeze. “You’ve still got me.”
She nodded. Her father was dead, and her mother was missing. Roemell was the last person she had left. She would do everything in her power to make sure she didn’t lose him too.
• • •
The rain continued to come down as Roemell double checked the supplies in the cart. Somehow, the chickens had gotten out and were now nestled together under a chair on the front porch. The small wheeled cart, which was attached to his new bicycle, contained enough provisions to start a garden with a large enough yield to feed the entire community at the settlement. However, there was no way to grow a garden without access to fertile land. The settlement was just past the Smith Estate in an area where the mountains hugged closely to the coastline. The narrow spot of land which held the small community was too sandy and salty for anything to grow.
Roemell pulled two meal bars from a box wedged in the cart, unwrapped one, and shoved it in his mouth. He brought the other bar back with him into the mansion and down the stairs as he headed toward the strange basement room. It looked even creepier now that Leona’s flashlight was illuminating the space from its resting place on a table. Immobile androids were scattered along the booths lining the perimeter of the room. The machines looked so lifelike, yet suspiciously unhuman at the same time.
“I brought some breakfast,” he said as he tossed the bar to Leona.
She caught it and placed it on the table. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
Sliding into the seat across from her, he said, “You should really eat something.” She nodded, but didn’t seem to be paying attention. Instead, she studied an old book which was laying open on the table. “Did you find whatever it was you were looking for?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said with a slight nod. She rotated the book so he could see, then carefully turned a soggy page. “This is a map of North America. We’re right here.” She pointed to a spot on the left-hand side next to one ocean. “And the capital is here.” Her finger traced across the continent to the extreme right side of the land, next to a second ocean.
He had a sinking feeling in his gut. The only person they knew who was at the capital was the terrorist they had apprehended. But the woman who had burned down Leona’s estate along with several others had been arrested and was awaiting trial. There was nothing more him or Leona could do. “I don’t think it would be wise to travel—”
“Oh God, no.” She shook her head and turned the book around again to face her. “It’s over 2,000 miles. We’d never make it by foot.”
He took in a deep, shaky breath. He had walked twenty miles in a day on several occasions, but he
couldn’t fathom traveling 2,000. A walk of that distance would probably kill him. “I was thinking maybe we could appeal to one of the other nearby landowners that were attacked. There may be someone else who is willing to help us out. Surely setting aside a couple acres for a community garden wouldn’t be too much of a strain.”
“Like who? Ava?”
His jaw clenched at the mention of her friend’s name. Ava was infuriating, narrow-minded, judgmental, and the last person he wanted to ask for a favor. But his distaste for the woman was outweighed by his desire set up a new settlement. “If necessary, then yes.”
Leona’s eyes widened. “Wow, you really are serious about this whole commune thing.”
Instead of saying anything, he simply stared into her dark eyes until she shifted uncomfortably and looked away.
“The thing is,” she said, “if my plot is getting seized because of a tax lien, I imagine the same thing is happening to every other estate that’s been burned down by Tina.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. It’s worth a shot.”
“I guess we could ask around.”
“Actually…” he paused, knowing she wouldn’t be happy with his next suggestion. “I was hoping you could go by yourself.”
She closed the book with a thud. “You mean split up? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
As he idly scratched at his pant leg, he tried to think of the best way to phrase his concerns. “Ideally, yes, we’d stick together, but I don’t want to take any chances by putting you in danger. I need to visit the settlement, and it’ll just work out best if you didn’t come along.”
Instead of getting upset, she reached out and grasped his hand. “You miss Ivan?”
He hadn’t seen his nephew in weeks. His sister’s death just a few weeks ago was still fresh in his mind, and Ivan was the only thing he had left of her. Even though he trusted Tammy, one of the women living at the settlement, to take care of the tiny baby, his nephew’s health had been tenuous, and Roemell had no idea whether or not the baby was thriving. The uncertainty was much harder than simply being separated from the little guy.
“I’ll go with you. I miss the little guy, too. ” He was surprised by how sure her voice sounded.
“You can’t come along. Not now.” He shook his head. They had narrowly escaped an angry mob when they had left, most of the hate directed at Leona for having the gall of being born wealthy. “I just want to go there, check in real fast, make sure they’re willing to start up a commune with us, then come right back. In the meantime, you could visit a couple nearby estates and see if anyone is willing to let a group of people cultivate some of their land.” It would be a hard sell since the wealthy were used to robots taking care of all the labor, but those who had lost everything in a terrorist attack would hopefully see the benefit in the arrangement. However, his history as a man born and raised with nothing would prevent the elite from listening to what he had to say. Leona would have a better chance of swaying their opinions on her own.
She let go of his hand, jumped out of the booth, and grabbed her flashlight. “Don’t run away and never—”
A loud knocking from above them interrupted her, making her drop the light which clattered onto the floor.
“Who could that be?” he wondered aloud before leading the way up the stairs with Leona close behind.
The front door had burned completely away in the fire, and even though it was still cloudy and drizzling outside, light streamed through the rectangular opening in the doorframe. Back-lit by the warm morning rays of sun, the young women with pale skin and wearing a dress composed of layers of sheer white fabric looked almost like an angel.
“Mr. Roemell,” she greeted, extending a delicate hand. He grasped it in his own, not entirely sure if she expected him to kiss it or give her a handshake. Instead, he stood there, trying to ascertain who the vaguely familiar-looking woman was while clasping her fingers.
Leona cleared her throat from behind him, which made him let go of their visitor’s hand and try to hide his embarrassment. She addressed the young woman in an almost sing-song voice. “Miss Giovanna VanStraten, I wasn’t expecting you to call! To what do we owe the pleasure?” He recognized the name. This was the oldest daughter of the VanStraten family, the residents of the estate he and Leona had saved. In turn, the family had attended to the pair’s injuries and given them enough supplies to start their commune. His heart dropped yet again as he realized all the items Giovanna’s family had given them would probably go to waste.
The slender woman looked back at the parked car and the android driver which stood next to it. The robot’s exterior was made of textured plastic to mimic the look of skin, and it wore clothing and a blond wig to make it appear even more human-like. She turned back to Leona and said, “I hate to bother you, especially since you must be quite busy rebuilding your land—” she looked around, frowning in response to the state of her surroundings, “—however, the news I bring is quite urgent, and I thought it best to deliver it in person.”
Leona grasped Roemell’s arm and gave him a worried glance before letting go and passing through the threshold to join Giovanna on the porch. She crossed her arms and asked, “What news?”
“The terrorist, Tina Patel. My family recorded our testimony against her and sent it to the federal prosecutor along with the accounts you two gave and the security feed from the attack. However, it seems that the videos were somehow corrupted. The prosecutor said they’re going to let her go unless they can obtain some new evidence.”
“They can’t do that!” Roemell blurted out.
Giovanna looked back at the car again. She worried some of the fabric from the skirt of her dress with her fingers and shifted uncomfortably to one side then the other. A pained expression crossed her face. “That’s what the prosecutor told me.”
He pushed a hand through his hair, trying to wrap his brain around the piece of news. “We saw her here. I was there when she annihilated the Evanko Estate, and Leona saw the woman kill her father.” Leona bit her lip at the mention of her dad. “Isn’t that enough evidence?” he asked.
Their visitor bowed her head solemnly. “I passed along both of your accounts to the prosecutor, but she didn’t have a chance to transcribe the video before the file got damaged. In any case, she’s not sure she can get a judge to convict Miss Patel without the security footage.”
“Can’t she at least try?” Leona asked, her voice pleading. “Maybe if I talked to the prosecutor, I could convince her to follow through with the case.”
Giovanna nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I’ve already spoken with her and impressed upon her that both of your testimonies would include the information that would have been captured by our security cameras. She needs your accounts at trial in order to prosecute the terrorist. It’s a long shot, but the case is hopeless without you two.”
Leona looked up at Roemell, then over to Giovanna. “We’ll definitely talk to her.”
“However, the prosecutor refuses to rely on video recordings moving forward. I don’t know why she’s so adamant about getting your testimony face-to-face, but you’ll have to go there, to the capital,” Giovanna added. “My father arranged a plane to take you there.”
“When?” Leona clasped her hands together, her eyes wide.
“In three days.”
“Hold on,” Roemell cut in, grabbing Leona’s hand and pulling her aside. He spoke in hushed tones so Giovanna wouldn’t overhear. “Leona, we’ve already warned all the other estates along the West Coast. There’s no way Tina will be able to cause any more damage.”
“Yes, but she needs to pay for what she’s done,” Leona hissed.
“What about the commune? And Ivan?” he asked, unintentionally raising his voice. “We can’t just get up and leave on a—”
Giovanna interjected, saying, “You don’t need to decide right now. I’ll leave a communication bot so you can keep in touch. I hope you decide to go testify, but ultimately it’s up to you.
”
Roemell raised his hand, about to say that he didn’t want her robot, but Leona gave him a stern glare before addressing their visitor. “Thank you so much. I’ll keep you posted.”
Pressing her palms together, Giovanna said, “Thank you.” She waved back at her android, which nodded, then walked up to her. It wore gray slacks, brown dress shoes, and a light-blue button-up shirt. She gestured at the robot and said, “This is a Service 22B-X. It has an upgraded communications chip, so it will be able to contact us through the K-Satellite network.” She patted the android on its shoulder before walking off. Pausing just a few strides away from the porch, she turned back and added, “I really hope you choose to participate in the trial. If anything, for Mr. Poole’s memory.”
Leona waved as the elegant woman got into her car and the vehicle drove away. When Roemell looked at Leona’s face, he could see a single tear roll down onto her cheek. He hated that Giovanna had brought up Leona’s father—it was obviously a ploy to get Leona to do what she wanted. But judging by the flush of her face, he knew Leona had already decided.
“Is there any way I can convince you to let this go?” he asked.
She looked at him, her lovely features twisted in pain. “How dare you? That terrorist deserves to rot in a tiny cell for the rest of her life for what she did.”
He wrapped his arms around her, and she relaxed in his embrace. “I know. You have every right to be upset.” As she buried her face against his neck, his mind was whizzing in circles. Although he also wanted to punish the party responsible for so much destruction, it was more important for them to focus on moving forward and finding a place to start their commune.
2
LEONA FOCUSED ON taking slow, deep breaths as she sat on the bench in the courtyard. Recently, even the smallest things would make her anxious, and the conversation with Giovanna had pushed her to the edge. She tried to downplay how much the news worried her, letting Roemell think he had calmed her down, but as soon as he went back into the house and headed into the basement, she couldn’t hold herself together any longer.