Melissa moved to stand, a smile already on her mouth.
“No,” Taylor said, crouching down next to her in a rush. “I’m happy to see you too but this isn’t the time. What can I do? I want to look busy, then we’ll talk.”
“Grab a piece of scrap metal from the pile in the corner. Tilk here will weld them in place while we hold them and we can talk.”
The slave named Tilk didn’t say a word, neither did he spare a glance in Taylor’s direction. Either he didn’t care to acknowledge Taylor or he was too afraid of what the guards might do to him if he did.
Taylor moved quickly to the pile Melissa had pointed out. It was a mess of metal scraps ranging from old car parts to kitchen cookware. She grabbed a rusting steel pot. The item felt familiar in her hands. The smooth surface brought back memories of times she would have used the tool to cook instead of reinforce a vault door.
Pushing these ideas from her mind Taylor retuned to Melissa and Tilk’s side. “How are you?” she asked. “Cidney, Frank, are they all right?”
“Yeah,” Melissa said. She looked over her shoulder to ensure they were safely away from earshot of any roving guard. “Cidney and Frank are working outside with the rest of the slaves. I’m sorry, Taylor. We had no idea Jason was one of them. They had us surrounded before we could do anything. Jason grabbed our guns, and it was over before it started.”
“It’s okay,” Taylor said, remembering back to the signs Jason was showing all along. “I should have seen it. I knew Valery attacked him at the Ark, I just didn’t think she had turned him so fast.”
“We can save him right?” Melissa asked with worry lacing every word. “We can’t kill him. We can bring him back—right?”
It wasn’t in Taylor’s nature to sugar coat news. For the first time she thought about killing the man who had been her Operator. Jason and Taylor had worked for Lazarus Pharmaceuticals as a team. As her Operator, Jason gave her instructions whenever an event needed to be handled with discretion. As a Cleaner Taylor had relied on him for information. It wasn’t until the Dread had used Vanidrum to enter the world that they had met in person. The two had formed a bond that began in necessity and ended in friendship.
“Taylor? Taylor?” Melissa was whispering.
Taylor blinked away the thoughts of having to kill Jason. “What?”
“You zoned out on me. When was the last time you ate, or slept?”
“I got an hour, maybe two last night. I can’t remember the last time I ate.”
Tilk finished welding Melissa’s piece of metal to the vault door. He stared at the two women expectantly still not uttering a word.
“I’ll be right back,” Melissa said. She headed off to the scrap pile leaving Taylor and the silent slave alone.
Tilk moved beside her and carefully began to weld one side of the metal pan to the vault door, the other end to the steel wall around it.
Taylor sized up the man as he worked. He smelled the way he would if he hadn’t taken a shower in months, which was probably not far from the truth. He was average height with a full beard and skin stretched over his body like too little canvas over a wooden frame.
“So your name’s Tilk?” Taylor asked. She held the pan still, heat radiating across her palm from the man’s welding torch.
“Yes,” he said gruffly. “Now leave me alone. You’ve cost us enough already. The last thing I need is my rations cut again for speaking with you?”
“Your rations cut again?” Taylor asked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Tilk glanced over his shoulder to ensure no guards were close enough to hear their conversation. “Your stunt last night not only crushed the hopes off all the workforce. They cut our rations in half for the next two days. Apparently Cole took it personally that we would even cheer for you.”
“I never meant for that to happen,” Taylor said, disgusted that those who had so little now had even less due to her actions. “I’m sorry. We’re going to get out of this.”
Tilk avoided any further eye contact as he finished his work. “You’ve done enough. Leave me alone.”
Taylor was struggling for the correct response when Melissa rejoined her carrying a square piece of bright silver metal. “So what’s the plan?” she asked.
“I’m working on one now,” Taylor said. She gave Tilk a sideways glance. True to his word the slave gave her no inclination he was interested in their conversation. “The best thing we can do now is convey to them that we want nothing more than to obey and comply with their rules.”
“Smart.” Melissa nodded. “Hey, what do you think is in this vault anyway? I mean, this has to be the vault we came looking for right? The one that sent the last transmission?”
“Yeah, whatever is inside Cole is terrified of it getting out.” Taylor looked at the extreme fortifications around the room. The image reminded her of all the movies of World War II when the allies stormed Normandy. The added precautions Cole was taking in reinforcing the vault door were eccentric at best.
“What’s that?” Melissa asked, pointing to the right side of the massive circular vault door.
Taylor’s eyes widened in shock. A small detonator had been placed, wired to go off if the entrance was ever compromised. “It looks like C4. Whatever or whoever is in there has Cole terrified. When we do come up with a plan to escape, getting this door open has to be on the top of the list.”
***
The remainder of the morning went quickly. Taylor did the work, dead on her feet. Her exhaustion was so intense she nearly dozed off a few times while she held pieces to the vault door for Tilk to weld in place.
Around noon a voice hushed the conversation Melissa and Taylor were having about what to do about Jason.
“You two little ladies, think all your gibber gabber has gone unnoticed?”
It was the sergeant. Taylor was wondering when the bully would be back. She knew his type well. Once they found a target they liked, there was no stopping them.
Taylor turned in time to see the sergeant place a boot in Melissa’s back. She fell to the floor with a cry of pain.
Taylor jumped to her feet ready to strike.
The sergeant held a can of pepper spray inches from Taylor’s face. “Let’s go, doll. You look like you’re fixing to do something stupid. Come on, let’s dance.”
“That’s enough,” Cole said from the bank entrance. “Sergeant, would you escort Miss Hart to the door please?”
The sergeant held Taylor’s gaze for a moment longer before lowering his can of pepper spray. He blew Taylor a kiss before he responded, “Yes, sir.”
He grabbed Taylor roughly by the arm and pulled her to the front door.
Taylor managed a backward glance to see if Melissa was injured. The young woman was already on her feet, worry on her face.
“Was there a problem?” Cole asked the sergeant, looking between his employee and Taylor.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle, Sir. A few work hands whispering and slacking off when they should be carrying out the task they were given.”
“I see.” Cole studied Taylor. He looked directly into her eyes as if he was searching for something far more than the answer to his question. “Well, I’ve found the best way to handicap excessive talk is to separate the two. I’ll have Miss Hart join the work crew expanding the wall instead. Sergeant, you are dismissed. I will take her there myself.”
“Are you sure?” the sergeant asked uncertainly. “She’s a wild one. You remember what she did to you last—”
“Don’t make me tell you again,” Cole snapped, shedding his amiable demeanor and fixing the sergeant with a look that hinted at violence.
“Yes, Sir,” the sergeant, said backing away. “She’s all yours.”
“Miss Hart, if you would follow me?” Cole said with a smile. Any indication he had of being anything save respectful, vanished.
Walking side by side, Taylor and Cole made their way back down the street and toward the slave pen. The sun wa
s shining over the community of pristine houses, birds were singing, and in the distance slaves labored under the ruling fist of the Dread lieutenant.
“In case you were thinking of attacking me again,” Cole said with a sideways glance, “my power to null your abilities still works with me unconscious. And you wouldn’t make it far anyway.”
Cole looked down at the center of Taylor’s large jacket where a pair of red dot sights maneuvered around her heart.
“I can’t say I wasn’t thinking about it,” Taylor responded. “I don’t know if I’d have the energy to try anyway.”
“I understand,” Cole said. He pursed his lips and sighed. “I know the doctor’s nighttime visit must be taking its toll on you. I’ll arrange for some food. Rest, unfortunately, will have to wait for tonight. Everyone has to pull his or her own weight in this community. Despite how special you are, you are no exception to this rule.”
They walked down the street toward the back of the compound. The slave pen was in front of them, empty except for a few piles of ragged clothing left behind by the occupants.
A warehouse Taylor hadn’t noticed before was set deep in the right corner of the complex. Behind the warehouse and the pen a line of slaves bent their backs to the will of the Dread.
“The bank is probably not the best place for you to labor. I’m going to reassign you with the rest of the work force in extending our wall. You also have friends here but I would warn you against too much idle chatter, if not for your own sake then for theirs. Both the doctor and myself see your value. The other three are expendable. I’d much rather keep them to strengthen the workforce but they are disposable all the same.”
“I understand,” Taylor said. “You keep referring to your salves as a workforce. Why is that?”
“Slavery is such a primitive notion. In the future the Dread is creating everyone has their roles. They’re not slaves if they’re doing what they were always designed to do. Humanity is our workforce. They are here to obey our commands and produce the items or buildings as we see fit,” Cole explained as though the idea was a simple fact anyone could understand.
The handcuffs on Taylor’s wrists and ankles were feeling heaver by the minute. The two were just passing the black iron slave pen when Taylor got a better look at the piles of clothing she had assumed were jackets or rags shed by the slave force. The sour taste of bile gathered in the pit of her empty stomach and worked its way up to her mouth. They weren’t piles of clothing at all, they were bodies.
Four slaves had died during the night, cooped up in a cage unfit for animals. For what seemed the hundredth time Taylor had to calm her temper. White hot tears burned her eyes.
Cole caught her line of sight and took a long, tired breath. “Only the strongest have a place in the new order the Dread is creating. It’s unfortunate. If I could I’d have every human working on furthering our cause but some are just not up to the task.”
Taylor realized she had to make her move much sooner than she would have liked to. Every day she bided her time and waited for the perfect opportunity was another day people were dying. The pressure was on now to come up with a solid plan she could execute as soon as possible.
“Well here we are,” Cole said, coming to a stop near the line of slaves working on the left corner of the complex. “I’ll inform the guards on duty you’re under their care now. A working lunch will be coming soon.”
Cole motioned toward the back of a slave Taylor didn’t think she recognized. “Here is one of your friends now. I think his name is Frank, is that right? He’ll tell you what to do. Remember, any excessive chatter will be dealt with swift punishment for you and death for him. Talk soon.”
With that Cole left to speak with the guards that studied Taylor apprehensively.
Chapter 14
“Oh I can’t believe it’s you!” Frank said, a huge smile crossing his face. A mixture of dirt and sweat covered his brow.
It was easy for Taylor to forget Frank was still in his late teens. She could see in his eyes the boy genius was struggling to stay grounded in a scenario that demanded he lose all hope.
“What are we doing here?” Taylor asked searching the line of slaves next to Frank. Unlike Tilk it seemed many here were open to her arrival. A few head nods and even smiles came her way.
“What are we doing here?” Frank asked confused. “We’re in a slave camp because the world went all doomsday on us.”
“No,” Taylor said, looking over her shoulder where Cole and the guards next to him were watching her every move. “I mean what are we supposed to be working on right now? We’re being watched. Too much talking and not enough work are going to see us both in a worse spot than we want to imagine.”
“Oh,” Frank said, grasping the severity of the situation.
“Explain to me in a loud voice and don’t hesitate to wave your hands around like you’re pumped on caffeine.”
“Awww…” Frank closed his eyes. “Caffeine.”
“Frank,” Taylor scolded.
“Oh right.” Frank snapped out of his daze, straightened his back, and started explaining with wild hand gestures. “Well you see, we’re pushing the wall back foot by foot to expand our territory. Every time we raise the wall and move it forward we have to lengthen the sides to make sure there are no gaps. We move the wall up using these industrial level jacks and roll it forward. That’s what we’ve finished. Now we have to fill the gaps in the wall on each side.”
Frank finished nearly shouting his last words. Every guard was observing them, every slave looking away as if they wanted nothing to do with the attention.
“How was that?” Frank asked with an eager grin.
Taylor looked over her shoulder again. Cole’s suited back was to her as he retreated down the street. “It was fine, where’s Cidney? Is she okay?”
Frank motioned with his chin down the line to a small figure taking direction from an older woman. “She’s great. When Jason betrayed us she took it the best. It was like she knew he was going to turn on us all along.”
“What?” The rush of relief Taylor felt at seeing Cidney safe dissipated. Questions pushed to the surface that would have to wait. “Never mind, keep working. They’re watching us right now.”
Frank looked like he wanted to say so much more. Instead he nodded and resumed work on his section of the wall.
A moment later Taylor was occupied with a group of slaves filling the open section of the wall. It was a simple, tedious task. They would lift up the back wall using industrial sized jacks, roll it a few yards forward, then fill in the gaps with another section of the wall.
The wall to this point had been made up of a skeleton of cars stacked one on top of the other. It was completed with steel plating on the outside that made it look like one solid piece of metal.
Apparently Cole had found a warehouse of supplies since then. Now layers of riveted steel sheets leaned up against the inside of the wall. A few slaves held torches much like the one Tilk had used, while others held the pieces of metal in place.
While each section of the new wall was being placed Taylor was able to see into the city beyond the compound. Guards on the ground and along the top of the wall carried rifles to dissuade any slave from escape.
Freedom looked deceivingly close from her point of view. A few yards’ run and she could be through the opening and covering ground to one of the many buildings waiting to hide her beyond.
This was pure madness of course. She wouldn’t get more than a few feet outside the wall before she would be gunned down. She knew it and so did every slave in New Olympia.
If only, Taylor thought, searching for the power within her that would bring explosive white energy to her hands. Slaves moved silently around her, it didn’t seem as though they harbored any ill will. Some made eye contact with her, saying with their faces what they wouldn’t dare mouth out loud. Looks told her things like, “Keep moving, you’ll be okay, and we’ll talk later.”
It surprised
Taylor to find so much strength inside these people. Like her, they were survivors. They were hardened, and Taylor was convinced that they would fight if it was asked of them.
“So this is what happens when you don’t kill your enemies. Starting to see things my way?”
The words were spoken so low Taylor almost thought she imagined it. But among the many voices she could see herself imagining, Lu’s was not one of them. Instead of searching for him she continued to concentrate on her task. She was holding a section of the steel closest to the opening between the two parts of the wall.
“I’m rethinking my position on the subject,” Taylor said so quietly she wasn’t sure Lu would even hear her.
“We gotta make this quick,” Lu whispered. “When and what do you want me to do?”
Taylor tracked the origination point of the Elite’s soft voice. He had to be crouched flat against the wall. How he had gotten there unseen was anyone’s guess. However, in this position he was practically invisible. For any guard to see him they would have to be directly overhead, leaning over the wall, and looking directly down. Even then there was no guarantee they would be able to pick him out in the deep shadow the wall provided.
“We have to go tonight. People are dying in these walls every day.” Taylor looked around her to make sure no one was observing their conversation. So far there was no sign from either slave or guard that Taylor had been heard. “Cole, the one in the suit, he’s nullifying my powers. You have to take him out first.”
“I’ve seen him,” Lu said. “I’ll take care of him. Eleven o’clock tonight, be ready to take back the compound.”
***
After their talk Lu waited until nightfall to work his way back from the wall. His muscles were cramped from having to stay in the same crouched position for so long. Despite this, his gamble had paid off. He had guessed that one of the surviving Ark members would have work duty that day. The best way to contact one of them was by staying still and waiting for them to come to him.
All The Broken People (The Dread Series Book 2) Page 14