He stopped listening. He didn’t have a day. Loren clicked off and looked at him.
He shook his head. “We can’t. It’ll be all right.” Loren just nodded, his face tense, eyes straight ahead.
He has wondered about this kid ever since he joined his crew two years ago. He was the shyest of the bunch, wouldn’t ever wash or change in front of anybody, and he was concerned about it for the longest time, but didn’t want to pry, so he let it go. And suddenly, he remembered how Loren was all protective of Lancer when Riley saw those scars on him, and how afraid he seemed, and he hated himself for not seeing the connection earlier. This kid must have been tortured. That’s why he wouldn’t take his shirt off for anything.
“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to….”
Loren nodded, not looking at him.
“How did you know about Lancer? That he was tortured?”
Loren shook his head, not saying a word.
“Were you? Is that why you’d never change in front of anybody?”
Loren’s jaw tensed and all the color drained from his face, but he wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t say anything either. It didn’t matter. He knew it just looking at him, and he felt like an idiot for not realizing it earlier and for not being nicer to the kid.
“I’m sorry. You don’t need to tell me anything. I am truly sorry, Loren,” he whispered and turned away from him.
It must have been an hour of silence between them after that when Loren spoke, his voice quiet, and soft, not clipped soldier voice like it usually was. “I was an orphan, Brody, the way I grew up, so I didn’t have any kind of choice about where I’d end up, and they were looking for people for the S-Squads, only I didn’t know what it meant then. I had just turned 14 and I was in this little camp at the time with only a hundred recruits in it, most of them like me. I was already hacking into the various nets for fun. Anyway, I got into this chat that I wasn’t supposed to see and it was this group of people, all with anon handles, talking about their plans to take over the Alliance from within, so they didn’t have to concede to Zoriner Councils and their sympathizers anymore. I didn’t understand what most of it meant, not really, but there were all these comments back and forth on how they needed more of these secret groups of well-trained soldiers, ones who were good with new tech, who would unwittingly do what they needed them to do. They were talking about the S-Squads and the way they talked about it… I didn’t trust it, instinctively. A man came to recruit me shortly after that, telling me how lucky I was to be selected and how it was a very small elite force, a privilege, and all that. I told him I wasn’t interested….” Loren put his head down for a beat, and then looked at him, his face hard, and he could see the effort he was making to hold himself together.
“You don’t owe me this, Loren. Honestly, you don’t. I am sorry I asked. I shouldn’t have.”
Loren leaned his head back, switched the flier to auto, and closed his eyes.
“They put me into this pitch-black room two days later and chained my hands to the ceiling. And then they told me that all I had to do was not scream, and if I did, I was useless to them as a soldier, a disgrace, and I’d be on my own after that. I was more afraid of being alone than anything then. I think I would have joined any squad to avoid that…. I couldn’t see anything in the darkness, couldn’t see their faces or what they were going to do to me, and they didn’t talk to me or to each other. I just knew there were two of them there by the way they moved. I still don’t know all that they did to me, couldn’t tell one kind of pain from another after a while. I remember that I kept blacking out and they’d throw water on me to wake me up, and I thought I was drowning until I remembered where I was. They were at it for hours, and I really tried not to, but I guess eventually I did. I couldn’t help it, Brody, I screamed….“
Brody heard him take a deep breath and let it out. He reached out and gently put his hand on his arm, not knowing what else to do.
Loren faced him, looked him in the eye, not hiding, and he could tell it took every bit of courage for him to do that.
“They…. they didn’t even bother to let my wounds heal, just threw me out like I was nothing. They made me walk through the entire camp, my friends lined up along this little concrete path we had. It was the middle of the day and I could see all their faces, sneering at me. These were kids I spent the last few years training with, and eating my meals with, and laughing with, and they were throwing rocks at my bloodied back,” Loren said quietly, sounding more sad than angry, and it surprised him.
Brody squeezed his arm gently and he flinched, but he kept holding him. “I am sorry, Loren…. For what it’s worth, I am happy you didn’t end up in one of those squads, that you ended up with me. But you should have told me. I would have never let the other boys make fun of you for being so shy. We all thought that way about you. I am sorry for that.”
Loren turned away and they stayed silent for a long while after that.
“I have to tell you something, and you won’t like it, Brody,” Loren said, sounding like his old self again, the soldier. “I think Fuller needs to make whatever he wants to do to you public. He is only hunting you to save his reputation, from all the chatter I’ve seen. There’ve been rumors ever since Trina, I guess, so he is not deemed trustworthy by some. I think he’ll turn this into a public execution for you, and likely Lancer, to let the Alliance superiors know where his loyalties lie. The good news is this sort of thing takes at least a quick trial and a bit of planning, so I don’t think he’ll be able to do it today. We’ll be ready to help you by then, is what I am saying. Unless whatever Dyrig and his guys are doing simply doesn’t work, we’ll get you and Lancer out of there alive. You have my word. And when we do, you have to forget everything I just told you. I can’t have anyone else knowing that about me.”
He was staring at the kid as if he’d never seen him before in his life. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before we left camp? I wouldn’t have said goodbye to everyone the way I did. Damn it, Loren. What the hell were you thinking?” He was shaking his head at him, furious, remembering how he left everyone.
Loren just laughed at him, a soft laugh. “I didn’t tell you, but the rest of them know. I am not an idiot. I think you needed to feel the way you did when you got on this flier today. For you, Brody. You needed to make yourself okay with it. And I’d rather you had a small sliver of hope for things going well but be prepared to die if they didn’t, than the other way around. It seemed right to do it this way for everybody. You are free to shoot me for it later,” he said softly and smiled at him, an open, friendly smile.
He lunged for him and hugged him with everything he had, wishing he hadn’t treated him like a bloody recruit for two damn years.
He leaned his head back in the seat after a while and closed his eyes, smiling, picturing doing to his father what Hassinger did to Trina if only to watch the horrified look on his face when his own soldiers turn their guns on him. He’d be the one to shoot him, of course, he had to be, after everything he’s done. He was pretty sure he could do it now; could look into his eyes doing it and not feel anything but relief.
18
Lineage
Lancer, June 12, 2236, Crylo
The girl was pacing around the room when he woke up, her bare feet not making any noise. She smiled at him, a full-on little-girl smile, and he couldn’t help but smile back at this strange kid. It seemed impossible for her to be so unbroken after everything, and he hoped with all his heart he could get her out of this.
The door slid open and Fuller walked in, wearing a regular uniform this time, standard grays. Two guards followed behind him. The shorter one unceremoniously dropped another cot against the wall, and then Brody, face bruised and bleeding, crumpled to the floor in a heap next to him. He gasped, couldn’t help it, and regretted it immediately, noting a satisfied grin on Fuller’s face.
“Let her go, Fuller. You got what you wanted.”
They walked over to the girl, and the shorter guard pulled out his gun, an old-school one, not a stunner, and without a word shot Tishana in the head. He was too stunned to scream, too stunned to do or say anything. The guards dragged her through the floor, trailing her blood on it, Fuller following them, the door sliding shut.
Lancer crouched by Brody and lifted him as well as he could with his hands the way they were. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing okay. He lay him down on the cot and lifted his shirt to see if anything else on him was broken. There were a few nasty purple spots on his ribs, so he felt around them gently, Brody not stirring. Not broken then. He sat next to him, watching him for a long time, and finally, his eyes opened, focusing on his face and the kid smiled at him.
“I am pissed at you, Lancer. Drake too. You had no right to do what you did. It didn’t change anything.” He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“I know, Brody,” he said simply, not wanting to fight with this kid now.
Brody looked at him for a beat, nodded, and closed his eyes.
Lancer felt on edge, so he got up and paced the small room, not looking at the boy. Brody let him, not moving, not saying a word for a better part of an hour and he was surprisingly grateful for that.
“Is there any water in here?” Brody suddenly asked, his voice hoarse.
He shook his head. He was dying of thirst himself by now and hoped Fuller would at least let them drink something. He could go without food for a few days yet, but his mouth already felt sandy, dry; his lips chapped.
The door slid open and a guard came in with a tin bucket of water, shoved it into the room, and left without a word. They stared at each other, knowing what it meant. They’d have to whisper or Brody would have to learn to read lips. Lancer could do that easily enough, had to learn when he was held like this before, but he didn’t think Brody could. He moved the bucket to the cot and helped Brody sit up, and then scooped the water into his hands and drank slowly, enjoying the cool taste of it. Brody just leaned his head in and took a few long gulps. The kid’s face was still bleeding. Lancer ripped his shirt off him and wiped the blood off his face as best he could, noting now that his cheek was split, an ugly gash in it as if he were hit with a ring. He didn’t want to ask and Brody wasn’t volunteering anything. He didn’t recall Fuller having any rings on him though. The kid was watching him, eyes serious.
He was done with it finally, his face still bruised but at least all the blood was gone. Brody leaned into him then and whispered what Loren told him, how Dyrig thought he had the code right and was just working on some virus, but that he should have it all worked out in a day. He told him that the flier was fixed and they were all coming here tonight and that Trelix and Loren would get to them somehow when his father takes them out of here to execute them or whatever it is he had planned. That they only had to hold out until then.
Lancer nodded. He always knew Dyrig would do what he could. He just hoped they were right about Fuller needing to do this in public. He thought they were. There was something theatrical about everything he did. He needed a reaction, needed for there to be an audience. He walked away from Brody and paced, stepping over the blood trail from Tishana. He hoped Brody didn’t see the guard shoot her, that he was still knocked out when it happened. The kid had enough to feel guilty about.
“I know about Loren. He told me. I am sorry I made you go through that, I truly am. I had no right to pry like that.” Brody was staring at him, blue eyes on his, not hiding.
“I know, Brody. I knew it then. Let it go.”
Suddenly the kid was up and walking toward him. “Turn around, Lancer.” His voice was strained and it worried him. Lancer turned and then felt a wet rag on his back wiping at a spot on his shoulder. He remembered it now, that he was shot on that roof. He heard Brody exhale behind him. “It just grazed you. You’re okay,” Brody said and went back to the cot.
He wanted to say something to him, something to make him believe that they would get out of this alive, but couldn’t find the words, none that wouldn’t feel hollow. But the silence between them was putting him on edge. “Tell me about Riley as a kid. He never talks about it much, at all, really. I can’t even picture him as a kid, the way he is now. What was he like?”
Brody smiled up at him, and then closed his eyes, not saying anything for a little while, and finally, he talked, his face wistful as he remembered.
He told him about little-kid Riley, chubby-cheeked and long-haired, constantly chasing bugs of all kinds, and how he thought he was making him a great gift when he caught that dragonfly for him and put it on a pin, only Riley cried when he saw it and wouldn’t talk to him for months after that. And how he caught him talking to the tiny, soft, pale-green buds on a tree in Waller one Spring, and Riley got all embarrassed about it. And about Samson and how he’d knock Riley to the floor when he’d walk him home after school, his tail going all crazy, as he licked his face, paws on his shoulders, holding him down in this strange hug, and Riley laughing and squirming under him, and then his father would get mad at him for making all that noise and scream at him or hit him.
And reluctantly, he told him about Riley’s father beating him with that belt the way he did, even when he was just a tiny kid, and then later beating him for all kinds of stuff Brody got him into at school, and how he hated that man for it; and that he remembers feeling happy when his father was finally gone, only he couldn’t ever tell Riley that, couldn’t hurt him like that….
Lancer walked over to him and crouched next to him, looking at his face, his eyes still closed. He seemed sad remembering this now, and he felt guilty for making him do it. “It’s all right, Brody… you don’t need to keep going,” he whispered.
Brody was silent for a long time, and finally, he looked at him, and his voice was shaky when he talked again: “I pushed him away, Lancer. When all that happened with my parents, the footage, everybody hating me the way they did, I hated myself for it too, couldn’t help it. I was so ashamed then, I just wanted everybody to leave me alone, wanted to run away, only I couldn’t yet, not until school ended, and my uncle, Andy…. He is the one who raised me after my parents were gone, likely the only person in my family who ever loved me… He was dying from cancer, and I thought I could convince him to go outside of Waller to get help, thought he’d listen to me, only he never did. But I couldn’t run with him like that, not until I knew for sure. I went to Riley after they broadcast the footage of Max in school. Trina broke up with me after that, and nobody else would even look at me. Riley skipped school that day of all days, so he didn’t know, didn’t see any of it.” Brody put his head down for a beat, breathing hard.
“Anyway… I went to Riley because I needed to make him angry at me so he’d walk away, the way everyone else did, only he wouldn’t do it. I lashed out at him in the worst way, and he was so hurt by what I said to him, but still, he wouldn’t bloody leave, so I had to do it for him. I made sure he never saw me in school or at Andy’s after that, only Riley kept trying to get to me. He would come by every single day looking for me. It broke Andy’s heart that I wouldn’t talk to him, and then Andy got worse and I was too much of a coward to watch him die, so I ran, not even saying goodbye to anybody.
“I didn’t see him for three years after that until he ran out to me and my crew in the woods like that, and the first thing I did to my best friend after all that time was put a gun to his head, and make him kneel.” Brody shook his head, hiding his eyes now. “I don’t know how he’s managed to forgive me for all of it. It’s just how he is, how he’s always been. He is just so unbearably, annoyingly decent,” Brody said very quietly and he laughed a small, humorless laugh.
Lancer jumped at the sound of the door opening, Fuller grinning at him. He was wearing his parade whites again, and it seemed like a lousy omen.
“I hate to interrupt this happy reunion, but I’m afraid I have to. You were both convicted of treason just now,
and the Council left me in charge of deciding your sentences. I’ve already decided on Brody’s, of course. He will be whipped to death over the course of however many days it takes, though I give it three at the most. As for you, Maxton, you get to choose your own fate. Firing squad, which would personally be my choice, or a whipping post, next to Brody’s, if you’re feeling especially masochistic…. Maybe you can keep my son from embarrassing himself. I need your answer, Maxton.”
He straightened, looking into the man’s cold eyes. “I’ll take whatever sentence you are willing to impose on your son, Fuller,” he said quietly and watched Fuller’s lips thin into a slow smile.
“You are becoming predictable, Maxton, boringly predictable. The guards will escort you out in one hour,” he said and he was gone.
Brody stood, looking at him apologetically. “I am sorry for this, Lancer. You shouldn’t be paying for my stupidity.”
Lancer threw his banded hands over the kid’s head and hugged him, not saying anything, just holding him, and finally whispered as quietly as he could, “We just need to get through today, Brody. Do what you have to when we get out there. Scream if you need to if it’ll make it easier for you, it doesn’t matter…. I swear I won’t think any less of you. I just need you to survive this.”
They sat leaning against the wall not talking after that, waiting. Six guards came to get them, guns on them, motioning for them to move. They walked in front of the guards, the elevator taking them to street level. He could see soldiers running toward some spot ahead of them. Their guards were silent, not even talking to each other. It seemed a habit they all had here—nobody talked much. He felt a barrel of a gun between his shoulder blades and it amused him that they thought there was any chance he could run or hurt any of them when this whole place was swarming with soldiers. He finally saw a large crowd of people, mostly in uniform, but there were women, too, standing in a semicircle just ahead of them. They were facing what looked like a quickly assembled stage, all wooden, with two posts on it, like the ones in Copley. He glanced at Brody and noted with surprise how calm his face was, no emotion in it at all. And he knew that the kid wouldn’t make it easier on himself, no matter what it cost him; that he wouldn’t give his father the satisfaction of seeing him in pain.
Alliance: The Complete Series (A Dystopian YA Box Set Books 1-5): Dystopian Sci Fi Thriller Page 50