by Aaron Hodges
“You’re welcome, my dear,” Maria said. “I’m just glad we could return the favor. Thanks to the chaos you inspired, most of us escaped. The soldiers you didn’t…disable were too busy looking for you to pay attention to the Madwomen.”
“What were you doing there?” Chris asked suddenly. He shivered as he remembered the soldiers marching towards her. “You could have been killed.”
“I could have.” Maria’s eyes travelled around the table. “But I did it for you, Chris. I did it for all the people who have disappeared, the children who have vanished. I’m old, I’ve lived my life. I don’t mind giving it away, if it makes a difference.”
“But…” Chris croaked, his eyes beginning to water again.
He looked up as Liz placed her hand on his shoulder. Her eyes were wide, glistening with unspilt tears. She nodded to his grandmother, and Chris saw the sorrow in the tightness of her aged face.
“I’ve outlived my own daughter, Chris.” She sounded defeated, but there was steel in her eyes as she continued. “I do not intend to outlive my grandson as well. So when I heard about the Madwomen, and realized I might be able to make a difference, I knew I had to stand with them.”
Chris’s heart gave a painful twist. “But I never asked you to, Nana,” he whispered. “I was trying to protect you, by staying away. I didn’t know what had happened to you, but I thought you’d be safe if I didn’t go near you.”
“Chris, it’s not your job to look after me,” she said, laughing. “Your grandfather gave his life so you could grow up in a world that was safe. I am only continuing his fight.”
“Wrong.” Chris looked up as a voice came from the doorway. Jasmine stood there, arms crossed, her lips twisted in a scowl. To his relief, her eyes had returned to their usual brown, though her fury looked undiminished. “This is our fight now—even more than yours. You’re right, you’ve lived your life. And while you were busy living it, you allowed this to happen. Where were you when they started taking away our rights? When people started disappearing? Where were you while the Chead ravaged the countryside?”
Maria did not blink in the face of Jasmine’s rage. “I was sleeping,” she said softly. “Resting on my laurels. I thought the battle was won when the war ended. You’re right—I let this happen.”
Jasmine hesitated, clearly caught off-guard by Maria’s admission. Liz gestured to an empty chair, and after a moment’s pause, Jasmine crossed the room and sat down. She shared a long look with Liz, and then gave a quick nod. Liz smiled back.
“But I’m fighting now,” Maria went on, “and not just protesting with the Madwomen.” She looked around the table, and Chris noticed her eyes lingering on their wings. “There is a movement beginning. It’s still young, but the Madwomen are the rallying point. We’re the only ones who are safe to openly defy the government.”
“Until today,” Ashley whispered.
“Until today,” Maria agreed with a sad smile, “but we always knew the risks. We knew the day would come, and we knew there might be losses. Thanks to you, most of us escaped. Now we must wait and see how the public reacts.”
Chris glanced at the others. His grandmother was right—the Director would have a hard time spinning the attack in the square. The public wasn't likely to take kindly to the use of force against old women, especially not the widows of veterans. But then, the government had managed to spin their escape from the courthouse. Who knew what else they were capable of?
“What is this place?” Jasmine asked. “And what exactly is this ‘movement’ of yours doing?”
“This is a safe house for people the government are hunting,” Maria replied. “There are a few in the city now. You should be safe here, so long as we weren’t followed. Mike’s making sure of that right now—he should be back soon.”
“Mike?” Chris asked.
“Our driver,” Maria replied. “As for what we’re doing…for now, we’ve mostly been gathering information. There are several foreign nations concerned about what our government has been up to. So far they have been afraid to act, but the tide is turning. The President is losing control. Much of the countryside is close to open rebellion, and some of the cities aren’t far from following. The growing poverty, the Chead, the military crackdowns, the curfews, they’re all taking a toll. The people are losing faith in the government.”
“In other words, the movement is doing absolutely nothing,” Jasmine muttered. Chris waved a hand to quiet her.
“It’s a start,” he said softly.
“Yes,” Maria replied, “but we need more. We need something to light the match, to start a fire in people’s hearts. What just happened in the square, it is only the beginning. If we wait too long, the government will crush us all like flies.”
“Sure hope not.” Chris started as someone spoke behind them. Leaping to his feet, he spun to face the unfamiliar voice.
A figure stood in the doorway, watching them from beneath a broad-rimmed hat. He wore tight-fitting jeans and a buttoned shirt with long sleeves. His leather boots thudded on the wooden floor as he strode across the room and took a seat. A grin stretched across his bronzed face as he lifted his feet and rested them on the table.
“Y’all make yourselves comfortable?”
44
Liz stood staring at the newcomer. He had seated himself beside Maria and was now looking up at them from beneath his broad-rimmed hat. Her wings had snapped open as she stood, but his grin did not falter at the sight. Jasmine stood beside her, teeth bared, her whole body shaking with a rage only Liz’s could match. Ashley had half-risen from the table, but her eyes remained downcast, and she seemed loath to take action.
“No one followed us?” Maria asked, apparently unaware of Liz and Jasmine’s anger.
“Nope, we’re in the clear,” the man said, laughing. “Y’all caused quite the scene.”
“What is he doing here?” Liz’s words came out as a scream.
There was no mistaking his accent, the southern twang of a Texan. Fury burned in her chest, bubbling up to fill every inch of her body, until it was all she could do not to reach out and throttle the man. She was surprised Jasmine hadn’t already.
Everyone knew Texas was responsible for unleashing the Chead virus on the WAS, for the decades of fear and suffering that had consumed the countryside, for the plague that had claimed her mother and so many others. The Lone Star State was the one entity everyone in her family, every rural citizen, hated more than the government.
Now one of them sat smiling in front of her, as though she didn’t have every right to leap on him and tear out his throat.
At her scream, everyone at the table had turned to stare at her. A crown creased Chris’s forehead as he half-rose from his seat. “Liz, are you okay?” he asked.
“No.” She jabbed a finger at the Texan. “He’s…his country…they’re responsible…” Liz trailed off, her words choked.
“He’s responsible for the Chead,” Jasmine hissed.
Chris blinked, and Liz knew he’d been so engrossed by his grandmother’s reappearance, he hadn’t made the connection. He looked from his grandmother to the Texan. Realization dawned in his eyes and he rose to join them.
“What’s going on here, Nana?” he whispered.
His grandmother raised her eyebrows. “Perhaps the three of you should sit and listen, before leaping to conclusions.”
“I’ll not sit at the same table as that…that monster,” Jasmine spat. She slammed a fist into the table, splintering the surface. A smile tugged at her lips as the Texan showed the first signs of discomfort. “At least not while he’s breathing.”
“Easy now.” The Texan straightened, lifting his hands. “Let’s talk about this…”
“I don’t think so,” Liz growled, starting towards him.
His eyes widened and he twisted, his arm disappearing behind his back. A revolver appeared in his hand as he stood.
“Why don’t we all just—”
Before he could finis
h, Jasmine lunged. Clearing the table in a single bound, she slammed into him with the force of a runaway tram and sent him tumbling. The revolver went scattering across the wooden floor to land at Chris’s feet. He bent down and retrieved it as the two girls advanced.
“Enough!” The room froze as Maria Sanders climbed to her feet. Anger wrinkled her face as she looked at each of them in turn. “Sit. Down.”
The three teenagers and the Texan exchanged glances. A moment passed, but one more look at Maria was all it took to convince them. With an effort of will, Liz retreated from the prone man and resumed her seat, the others a step behind. Ashley sank back down, her eyes downcast, avoiding Liz’s gaze.
The Texan wore a sheepish look on his face as he regained his feet. “Sorry, Maria,” he grunted. “Shouldn’ta reacted, old habits, ya know?”
Maria said nothing, only waved him back to his seat. She waited until he’d sat before addressing them again. “As I was saying, why don’t we all take a breath before attacking one another?” Her eyes shifted to their wings. “After all, as far as the media is concerned, your kind works for the government.”
A shiver went through Liz at Maria’s words, though less from guilt at their reaction, and more from the casual way the old woman had dehumanized them. She might still think of Chris as her grandson, but suddenly Liz was less convinced about her benevolence towards the rest of them.
“This is Mike,” Maria continued. “He came to me a few months ago, not long after I joined the Madwomen. This is his safe house, so before you resume your little fight, you might want to thank him for the rescue.”
A stony silence answered Maria’s words. A burst of laughter erupted from the Texan as he waved a hand. “Don’t stress it, Maria,” he said. “Can’t blame ‘em the hate.” His eyes turned to them. “Y’all think I’m responsible for the Chead.”
Jaw clamped, Liz forced herself to nod.
“What are you doing here?” Chris asked, his voice far calmer than Liz could have managed. But then, she supposed that coming from the city, he had never experienced the same terror she had from the Chead.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Jasmine hissed. “He’s a spy, come to spread more of the cursed things.” Her eyes flashed. “I hope the WAS rains fire down on your damned state.”
“We’d best pray they don’t,” Mike replied, “considering we seem to be the only ones on your side.”
“On our side?” Liz snapped. “How can you say—”
“Cause it’s a lie.”
Silence answered the man’s words. “What?” Chris asked finally.
Mike leaned towards them from across the table. “Texas did not create the Chead,” he said. “No more than we created the six of you.”
“Why should we believe you?” Liz rumbled.
“The same reason I trust you don’t really work for the Western Allied States,” he replied with a shrug. Leaning back in his chair, he placed his boots back on the table. It gave a loud groan, and Liz found herself wondering how much damage Jasmine had done to the heavy wood. “You saved my friends, I saved you. I’d say that’s reason enough for a bit of flexibility on either side, don’t you?”
Liz swallowed, looking from Chris to Maria to Jasmine, then back at the Texan. Just the thought of cooperating with one of them left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she was loath to agree. But the man’s words made sense, and they needed allies.
“If you weren’t behind the Chead, who was?” Jasmine muttered. She still looked ready for a fight, though so far was holding back.
“That’s the million-dollar question, ain’t it?” Mike replied. “To be honest, I was hoping y’all might have some answers.”
Liz shook her head. “The doctors who created us are dead. They didn’t spend too much time on history lessons.”
“Shame,” Mike replied. His voice changed as he continued, taking on a more western twang. “It gets exhausting, putting on an accent. I would have liked to clear up that little piece of misinformation while I’m here.”
“Why are you here?” Jasmine cut in.
Mike glanced at Chris, who still held his revolver. “So long as you’ve got my gun, how about you fill me in a little more about yourselves?” he replied, one eyebrow raised. “After all, last I checked you belonged to the government.”
A growl rumbled up from Jasmine’s throat. Liz quickly reached out and placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Jasmine turned her scowl on Liz, and for half a second, Liz thought she glimpsed specks of grey in the brown of her friend’s eyes. She squeezed Jasmine’s shoulder, part in reassurance, part in warning.
Jasmine’s eyebrows lifted and her chest swelled, a shudder going through her. She closed her eyes for a moment. When they opened again, Liz saw the fear lurking behind the rage.
“It’s okay,” she said softly, aware the others were staring.
Liz waited until she was sure it was true before turning to the others. “You want answers, Mike?” she asked. When the Texan nodded, she went on: “Our parents weren’t traitors; we were taken because the government needed fresh bodies for their experiments. We have no idea how many generations came before us, because they’re all dead. We were just unlucky enough to be the first to survive.”
“But why?” Mike mused, seemingly more to himself than them.
“Fallow told us we were created to fight the Chead,” Chris offered.
“No,” Ashley said suddenly. Liz looked at her friend, surprised by her outburst. The other girl swallowed, and it was a moment before she went on. “Halt…he visited me sometimes, when I was alone,” she started.
Liz’s stomach twisted, and she was about to grasp her friend’s hand, when she remembered the nematocysts. Resting a hand on Ashley’s back instead, she nodded for the girl to go on.
“He was obsessed,” she whispered. “Some in the government wanted a weapon against the Chead, others a weapon against everyone else. But Halt…Halt, he wanted to create a whole new species, to evolve beyond humanity, become something else entirely.”
“That’s why he used the virus on himself,” Chris muttered.
Ashley shrugged but remained silent. It seemed she had said everything she was going to say.
“Can it be reversed?” Maria asked. Liz did not miss the look she gave Chris. A tremor went through her wings, and she found herself wondering if she’d be willing to give them up for a chance to be normal again.
“We don’t know,” Chris replied. “There wasn’t meant to be a cure for the Chead virus, but Mira was one of them, before she became one of us.”
Liz remained silent at that, recalling her and Jasmine’s own brief transformation, and the stinger cells embedded in her skin. Perhaps she would take the cure, if one existed.
“What if we found another doctor?” Liz asked suddenly. “One who knows about the Chead, and whatever we might be?”
Mike sighed. “Unfortunately, there’s not many who exist. Everything about the Chead is top secret. We only know what your government tells us, and as I already mentioned, that information is more than questionable.”
“A geneticist then, someone who could study the virus we were given, and tell us if it’s reversible.”
“There’s a professor at the University of San Francisco,” Ashley said, her words coming out in a rush. “I think he used to work for the government; specializes in genetic engineering. I’m…not sure how receptive he’d be to a bunch of fugitives on his doorstep, though.”
“How do you know about professors at a university?” Liz asked, surprised by her outburst.
“I studied there for a few months, before…” Ashley trailed off.
Liz blinked. “You what?”
Ashley turned beetred. “I never mentioned that? I graduated high school six months early…”
Beside Liz, Chris started to laugh. “Well, maybe you can show us around when we visit this professor—”
“No,” Mike and Maria said together.
“Out of the question,” M
aria continued.
Chris fell silent, his mouth hanging open as he stared at the two adults.
“It’s too much of a risk,” Mike added. “Between the wings and your photos in the papers, you’re too recognizable.”
“So what, we do nothing?”
“For now,” Mike answered, his voice steady. Liz opened her mouth to protest, but he spoke over her. “But we don’t all have to stay here. I’ll go instead.”
“Absolutely not!” Liz hissed, rising so quickly her chair tipped over backwards.
“You expect us to just sit here and trust you?” Jasmine was on her feet as well.
“Yes.” Mike’s smile returned. “Since regardless of what you believe about history, we have a common enemy. I guess it’s time I told you why I’m here.”
Liz glanced at the others, uncertain, and Mike took the opportunity to continue.
“I was sent by the Lone Star State. We’ve been watching the WAS for years—ever since they began accusing us of espionage. I’ve been here over a year, collecting information, sending updates back to my supervisors. It won’t be the first risk I’ve taken, opposing your government. Trust me, I’m on your side.”
“So you’re a spy?” Jasmine asked bluntly.
Mike shrugged. “I’m whatever I need to be,” he replied, “and right now, I’m the best chance you’ll have of finding that cure.”
Liz clenched her fists as she struggled to process his words. Looking around the table, she saw the same doubt in Chris’s and Ashley’s eyes, and the burning rage in Jasmine’s. She drew in a long breath and returned her gaze to the Texan, wondering whether she’d completely lost her mind. But Mike was right: Texas and the six of them had a common enemy. And if they wanted to survive, they needed to trust someone.
“Why would you help us, though?” she asked quietly.
“To prove my people aren’t evil,” he replied quickly. “To prove we’re on your side.”
“Fine,” Liz said. “Chris, you’d better give him back his gun. I have a feeling he’s going to need it.”