Nobody was at the small clearing. Brandon didn’t lie to him about all his men being gone. The fire looked pitifully small and out of place.
Suddenly, Brody had an overwhelming urge to pee. He stopped, his face heating, but it was what it was. He’d rather do it now than with a gun to his head.
“Brandon.”
The man turned, his hand on his weapons belt. Not so trusting then.
“This is mildly embarrassing, but I need to,” he looked down, sighed, “pee, Brandon. I need to bloody pee.”
Brandon took a set of biters out of his bag and walked over.
He let him tie his wrists without a word, noting with some surprise that the man was gentle about it, the ties barely touching the skin. He didn’t know what to make of this Brandon, the one who fixed his wound and who seemed reluctant to hurt him, considering what he’d done to him before and what he was about to do to him now. He followed him in silence to a stream just beyond the cluster of trees, the walk miserably short.
Brandon stopped before they hit the water’s edge. “Go ahead.... I’ll turn around.”
Brody took his time afterward, drinking the clean water from the stream, then washing his face and neck in it. His hand was hurting worse than anything again so he dropped it into the cold water and closed his eyes. A distinct sound of a gun being cocked behind him made him flinch. He didn’t see that coming, the flinching, and he was angry at himself for it.
“Wishing you hadn’t let me go yet?”
“No, Brandon, I don’t.” It struck him as odd that he truly didn’t regret not killing him or letting him go back then. He straightened. “I trust you not to shoot me in the back,” he said, keeping his voice even. “I’m going to turn around.”
Brandon stared at him when he turned, gun at his side pointing down, his face tense. He looked like he wanted to ask him something but didn’t know how to. He ran his free hand through his hair, pointed to the trees in front of them, and nodded for him to move.
Brody could still hear the stream behind him when he made it to the trees, and he found himself smiling at the small miracle of it all. At Brandon not shooting him in that dark cave. At being able to face whatever followed with an empty bladder and clean face. And mostly, at getting to do this last thing on his terms. He could feel the man behind him, could sense the impatience in him. He chose a youngish beech tree that was closest to the clearing with the cave and the dead fire and settled against it. He hoped this man was decent enough to take the biters off him, once he was gone; didn’t want his people to see him like this, but he didn’t want to ask anything more of him. He leaned his head back against the trunk and nodded that he was ready.
Brandon slipped the gun into his belt, took out a small knife.
Brody shut his eyes, rage at the man coursing through him, adrenaline making his hands shake.
“Stop! It’s not what you think.”
He felt Brandon’s hand circle his wrists, looked down. The knife was a few centimeters away from the ties, the man waiting for him to stop shaking, he guessed.
“Sorry.” He lifted his hands some and Brandon cut through the biters without a word and dropped the knife back in his belt.
Brody shut his eyes, said a quick goodbye to all the people he loved and a silent prayer that this will be fast and painless. He felt the cold barrel of the gun touch his forehead after a moment and opened his eyes. The safety clicked off. He took a deep breath, whispered, “I’m ready.” He hoped that all the people he was leaving behind would be all right, and mostly, that Laurel would find somebody again; that she’d let herself.
“Close your eyes.”
“You know I can’t do that…. It’s all right, pull the trigger.” He took another deep breath, but Brandon didn’t move, just kept looking at him, not pulling the trigger. He knew how hard this was, but this man was a soldier, and he promised him that he’d do it this way. It angered him that he would even ask.
“You need to keep your word, soldier. Pull the trigger,” he said as evenly as he could through the rising anger in him.
Brandon shook his head, took a small step back from him. “You can go,” he said quietly, gun pointed at the grass.
“It’s not how this works, soldier! I’m not turning my back on you to make it easier for—“
Brandon winced. “It’s not that,” he shook his head, his face turning red as if he were embarrassed, “I can’t shoot you. I’m letting you—“
“Drop that gun.” Drake’s voice made both of them jump, and Brody saw him come out into the clearing, pointing a stunner at Brandon’s back.
Brandon threw the gun down but didn’t turn around or put his hands up. Drake snapped at him to put his hands behind his back, but he didn’t move, and Brody could see in his eyes that he wouldn’t make it easy for them; that he meant to fight, knowing that he couldn’t win this.
Drake grabbed Brandon’s hands before he had any chance to react, the giant moving in that soundless way he had, and tied them harshly with biters, then spun him around to face him. “You don’t listen very well, do you?” he screamed at him.
Brandon didn’t move, didn’t say a word, either. Brody could see rage on Drake’s face and he worried he'd kill him, though he’d never imagined Drake capable of it before. Loren came out of the woods, hand on a stunner. He needed to talk to them, tell them somehow that this man didn’t take his life when he could have, so they were even now.
Drake shoved Brandon to the fire and dropped him to his knees. “I know where we are, more or less. The rest of them will make it to Reston by tomorrow, at the latest. If this son of a bitch has any screens or comms on him, I’ll call for a flier for us, or we can walk. It’s not that far. Sorry, we almost didn’t make it for you.”
Brody sat on the other side from them running through everything that happened and tried to think of a way of explaining it to Drake. Brandon sat still as a statue, eyes trained on the dying embers. He seemed lost in his thoughts, ignoring the giant next to him and the gun at his side.
“I need to get us a flier, Brandon. I’m too damn tired from all this walking you made us do, so I need you to hand me a comm or whatever you got,” Drake said to the kneeling man, angrily, jabbing at his ribs with the stunner.
Brandon shook his head, not moving anything else, not talking.
Drake moved his hand on the weapon and Brody jumped up then. “Don’t, Drake! We need to let him go. I don’t know if I can explain all of it now, but I owe him.”
Drake looked at him as if he were insane for saying it, the stunner still pointing at Brandon. “I’m going to say this as nicely as I can. I don’t care how badly you feel for every broken creature you run into, but this son of a bitch here would have sliced you up like a hog before. He bloody stuck you to a tree with a knife not two days ago, in case you forgot, and we almost didn’t make it to save you from a bullet in your head. He’s not going anywhere. He’s just not. I’ll fight you on this if I have to, and you’re too weak to win.”
“He didn’t shoot me. He let me go so I owe him, or we’re even now. However you want to look at it. You didn’t save me from a bullet, is what I’m saying. He let me go,” he said calmly, glancing at Brandon’s face. His eyes were down, but he could see the tension on him, all the muscles in tight knots in his jaw.
Brody got up and walked around the fire to them. “You’re not listening to me. I owe him, and I’ll find a way to let him go, whether you want to or not, and I’d rather not fight with my friends over it. Let him go!”
Drake took a few steps to him and told him to stick out his hands, his free hand holding on to a set of biters.
“You’re going to tie me up? Is that where we are, you and I?”
Drake just glared at him.
“Stop,” Brandon said very quietly. “I’ll help you get a flier.” He was standing now, eyes on Drake.
He couldn’t let him do that, not if Drake wouldn’t let him go afterward. He turned back to Drake. “I need your word t
hat you’ll let him go, Drake. You have to. I bloody owe him,” he screamed at the giant.
“No,” Drake said sharply and took another step toward him, still holding the biters in his hand.
“All right.” He stuck his hands out and Drake flinched, but he still put the ties around his wrists. Brody gritted his teeth at the pain, Drake not looking at his face, eyes down. Brody turned away.
“He is one of the people we’re fighting. What am I missing? Bloody tell me why you want to let an enemy target go! Tell me, so I understand. If nothing else, he has intel we can use…. I’m not going to let you throw that away because of something personal between you, and it’s stupid and childish of you to ask that of me. Hell, Brody, it’s bloody treasonous.”
Brody spun around, feeling the heat on his face. “Would you ever accuse me of that if I looked like you?” he asked quietly, his anger turning to full-blown rage. “We’re done. Convene the bloody Council, and try me for treason, if that’s what you think. I won’t fight you on it. In fact, I’ll demand that you do, but we’re done, Drake. We’re done.”
He turned to Brandon then and asked him to please help them contact their people to get the flier to them, telling him that he couldn’t free him, couldn’t free either of them, but he’d rather they get this over with without having to trek through these woods for another minute.
Brandon had his head down, not looking at anybody, but he told them where his go bag was and gave them numbers to punch in to activate one of the untraceables, and after a few minutes, Loren told them the flier was on its way.
All he could do now was wait. He slid down the tree he was leaning on before, the last tree he thought he’d ever touch, wishing that Brandon just pulled the damn trigger.
13
The Code
Laurel, June 30, 2244, Reston.
It just didn’t make any kind of sense, what Drake said, and them putting Brody under guard like that, and then not letting her or anybody in to see him, not until after the Council’s decision, Brody said. They couldn’t do this to him, not to Brody, after everything….
She caught Riley on his way out the door and he turned around and walked into the kitchen. “I wasn’t there, Laurel. I don’t know what happened, none of us do, but I’ve no reason not to trust Drake. I just don’t know why he’d do it, Brody, you know? It doesn’t make sense. He didn’t have any kind of a problem killing Brandon when he was just a bloody kid. It doesn’t add up, but there isn’t a thing I can do about it. Brody demanded the council. It’s not us doing it, it’s him, and we can’t refuse to convene a council, no matter who asks for it. He didn’t say one word to me either if it helps any, wouldn’t see anybody…. He wouldn’t even let Ella in to treat his wound. I’ve never seen him this stubborn before, and I’ve known the son of a bitch my whole life. I’m sorry, I truly am.” He walked over to her and hugged her, hard, letting her cry into his chest.
She went to the holding chambers again and sat outside the room Brody was in for hours, hoping that maybe he’d change his mind about letting her in, but he never did, and the guard looked at her with pity when he had to tell her that. She walked down to where Brandon was held and asked to see him then. She hated that man, hated him for what he did to her Brody, and for terrifying all those little kids like that. Hated him for making Gregory cry for days afterward. The guard let her into a small room with nothing but a cot and a toilet in it, not even any windows. She wondered briefly if Brody’s room was like this, too, and she knew somehow that it was.
The guard backed out of the room, telling her to just knock when she was done, and closed the door behind him.
Brandon got up from his cot, hands bound with biters in front of him, and faced her.
“I’m Laurel, Brody’s girl. You let me go, hoping I’d die on the way, I think. Remember me?” she asked bluntly, unable to mask her anger at him.
He nodded, his face calm, emotionless.
“Will you tell me what the hell happened out there? He is asking for the council to try him for treason, of all things, and I don’t know what would make him do something like that.”
She saw his face change, tense up as if she hit him or was about to, but he didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a long time, and then finally, he nodded and told her what happened after she left in a strangely quiet voice, keeping his eyes down when he spoke. Told her what he did to him and how he wanted to see if Brody would try to free himself and run or if he’d try to find the rest of them, needed to know that for some reason. Told her how he watched him escape and then followed him to the camp, and how when he knocked him out and moved him to the cave, he didn’t plan on hurting him anymore, though he still felt it was a matter of honor for him to kill him to avenge his mother’s death, but that he needed to know about her first, needed to know for sure who she was, and how she died. He told her what Brody said to him and the deal they made, only in the end, he couldn’t shoot him, couldn’t bring himself to do it. And that he is pretty sure when Drake and that other man showed up, they thought that he would have shot him, so he doesn’t blame them for doing what they did. He told her, too, that he could tell what Drake said to him really hurt him, and that Brody is doing it because of that, feels he has to.
He lifted his eyes to her finally, his jaw set.
“He lied to you, Brandon. He didn’t kill your mother. I did,” she said sharply. Brandon winced, his face turning colors, and squeezed his eyes shut.
She turned away from him and knocked on the door, the guard letting her out immediately and locking it behind her. She ran out of the building without paying any attention to where she was going and finally when her body refused to run anymore, she slowed to a walk, finding herself on the street that led to her house, as if by habit. She didn’t want to go to that house alone, didn’t want to be there without Brody, so she turned around and went back to Riley’s.
The kids were at the table with him having dinner. Riley made her a plate without a word and told her to eat before she talked, pointing toward Telan and Selena in a way that was supposed to be subtle but wasn’t. Nothing Riley ever did was subtle.
She did as she was told, picking at her food without tasting much of it, listening to the kids talk about their day, Riley just nodding to them. He told her that Lancer moved into Max’s place to give these two a bit more room and Selena had his old bedroom now because it felt right to all of them that she should stay there. The kids excused themselves as soon as they were done eating and disappeared into the street.
She helped clean up and let Riley pour her a glass of home-made wine. She gulped the whole thing down, instead of sipping it, and caught Riley smiling at her. He refilled it without a word and let her take a few more sips, and finally told her to just spill it already. She did. She told him all that Brandon said to her, and that she didn’t know what to make of it. It still didn’t add up for her why Brody would risk himself like this for that man.
Riley walked her home afterward, neither of them talking much. She could see how tired he looked, stress lines marking the corners of his eyes. She knew better than to ask him if he’d heard from Ams too. He would have said something if he had. It must have been weighing on him that Ams didn’t talk to any of them anymore. It was cruel of her to leave him the way she did, they all thought that. She remembered the night she ran into her house with nothing but a small backpack on her and told Brody and her that she was spending the night with them and leaving first thing in the morning.
It took Laurel an hour to finally get Ams to tell her that she left Riley because of some new man she liked now; that she thought she had never been in love with Riley – he was just the first boy for her and she was leaving him because it wouldn’t be fair to either of them if she stayed – and that they just had to let her. Riley didn’t leave his house for a week after that, didn’t let any of them in either, and when that was over, none of them brought it up again. None but Lancer, once he got sick. He was the only one who could talk to him ab
out Ams without Riley screaming at him to shut up and to leave him alone. It’s been over two months now that Laurel hadn’t heard from her oldest friend in the world, and it worried her more than she dared admit to herself. She just sensed that it wasn’t right, that something happened to her….
“What are you thinking about?” Riley asked softly and then shook his head at her. “Forget I asked…. I don’t want to know. We’re here. It’ll all be over tomorrow and that stubborn son of a bitch will come home, all right?”
She leaned in and kissed the stubble on his cheek and ran into her too-quiet house, feeling a little buzzed and just tired enough to maybe sleep through the night.
Max, Drake, Loren, Riley, and Lancer were already seated on the bench when she walked into the Council Chambers in the morning. The audience seats were empty and she realized they made this a closed proceeding. She was grateful for that bit of consideration, at least. The door opened and two guards walked Brody in, followed by two guards who pushed Brandon into the room. It didn’t make sense for him to be there unless Brody demanded it.
Brody stepped up to the bench the accused usually sat on but he remained standing. His hands were tied in front of him and she couldn’t help but wince at the not-too-clean-looking bandage covering most of his right hand. He looked underslept, too, and thinner than he did when she met him at the flier two days ago. Brandon was told to sit to his side and he did, his guards standing behind him.
Max stood and said in that quiet way he always had when in the chambers that they were ready to begin and asked both men if they could release the guards.
“I don’t care if you do or not, sir,” Brody snapped.
Max just shook his head and told the guards to untie Brody and leave.
“You can’t untie me. You will follow standard protocol. If you want to dismiss the guards that’s your business, but I will have no allowances from any of you.
Alliance: The Complete Series (A Dystopian YA Box Set Books 1-5): Dystopian Sci Fi Thriller Page 67