Warrior

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Warrior Page 10

by Holly S. Roberts


  Labyrinth takes another step in the general’s direction, putting them almost nose to nose or at least they would be if the general grew a foot. “The mistake is dealing with those who betrayed us in the past. Defense Secretary Church convinced King that it was to our benefit to help humans even after your betrayal. I didn’t agree, but here I am. Do you plan on stopping us from leaving?”

  “That will be completely unnecessary,” President Barnes assures from behind us. I have no idea how long he’s been there. Long enough obviously. “We have no problem with Defense Secretary Church being your liaison, it’s why we sent her to negotiate with your leader to begin with. We have the utmost respect for her, as should you.”

  Labyrinth nods regally and I almost burst out laughing. Now who’s laying it on thick?

  “General, may I have a word with you?” the president asks.

  The two men leave the room and walk back into the hall. Several guards stay behind keeping me from having a private word with Labyrinth. When President Barnes returns, the general isn’t with him.

  “Defense Secretary Church will be at your disposal for any needs you have. The door guards will notify her at your request. She will also be in all meetings with me and will keep you up-to-date on the proximity of hellhounds. Do you have needs you would like me to consider immediately?”

  This means Labyrinth isn’t invited to those meetings. He shows no displeasure. “Thank you, Mr. President. We would like to assess your perimeter and have someone show us to the latest hellhound sightings. I will give any concerns or defense plans we come up with to Defense Secretary Church.”

  “Of course.” He turns to one of the guards. “Have the Shadow Warriors escorted to the perimeter where the last hellhounds were sighted.” He looks back at Labyrinth. “Tomorrow is soon enough to examine the defenses we have in place.” He shakes his hand with no distaste showing and I must remember he called them savages only yesterday. The man is truly evil. He shakes my hand with a warm smile that doesn’t meet his eyes and leaves.

  Officer Daniels walks to me and waves toward the door. I guess they want me gone from the Warrior’s quarters. I’m escorted to breakfast in the same cafeteria I used when I worked in analytics. My friends aren’t here. Checking the large windup clock on the wall, I realize they would have finished breakfast an hour earlier and they’re already hard at work. Today’s breakfast is oats that have seen their sell-by date come and go a few years before and wonder of wonders a piece of dry toast. Usually it’s one or the other. Someone with a wee bit of clout must have complained.

  To think the president and his generals eat healthy is about as irritating as I can handle while trying to down the almost inedible food. The disgust I feel at him leaving his battle soldiers to suffer and nearly starve to death burns me from the inside out.

  I eat without looking or talking to anyone else around me. When I worked in analytics we ate in shifts. By remaining alone, I continue to be the weird shy girl for Officer Daniels’s benefit. I take another bite of oatmeal and wonder what the president told General Smyth. Oh to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

  Now that I’m the official liaison between humans and Shadow Warriors, my thoughts turn to King.

  I miss him.

  Mate.

  Chapter Sixteen

  King

  IT’S BEEN A week since we landed in the U.S. We’ve moved slowly, skirting towns that could possibly be inhabited. It appears the Federation has gone after smaller groups of civilians. We found three destroyed towns with everyone dead, while they left mid-sized towns alone. They seem to be playing it safe and only going after the people in smaller groups. But why?

  Hellhounds have been more numerous the closer we get to Boyce, Va., our rendezvous point. We should arrive tomorrow and the other groups should follow within a few days. Boyce is seventy-one miles from the capitol and from earlier reconnaissance reports, deserted. There’s a major abandoned railroad there that will provide metal sleeping quarters with safety from hellhounds. The rations we brought and what we’ve found along the way will keep us for months if needed.

  Mate, Beast whispers inside me.

  Yeah, months won’t work for either of us.

  The America we’re walking through now was blasted by bombs in the early days of the war. After the first wave of electromagnetic pulses and the nuclear fallout, the U.S. tried to stop the hellhounds with sizable bombs in their own cities. If you survived the hellhounds, the U.S. military was your second threat and civilians had to clear their homes and move closer to Washington once the word to evacuate was given. If you didn’t leave, you were just another casualty.

  Greystone knew the longer the war persisted, the greater chance young Warriors would be forced into military service as humans. That would have been a disaster. With the stress levels caused by fighting, our secret would be out. Greystone wanted Warriors under his command, not the government’s. At the time, the Federation hadn’t formed yet and the military was a mess. With little communication, everything was made worse. It took angry citizens insisting on using the underground tunnel network to change the government’s tactics. Unfortunately, the “new” purported government that took over and formed the Federation was no better.

  With so many reported dead, the Federation went into survival mode. I understand. What I don’t understand is the systematic killing of humans now or hiding the numbers of survivors to begin with.

  When it appeared the hellhounds would win, and our elders were all but annihilated, Greystone brought his true Warriors into the mix and we went to war, fought beside humans and saved the Federation. Marinah’s father tried to help us. He shared some of the government’s internal workings with Greystone and found ways to protect the Warriors. This became even more evident after his death.

  Now we’re hoping to gather humans who want to fight with us against the Federation. It’s a slippery slope and now may not be the time. Hopefully, Beck and Nokita’s teams will have better luck in their observations. The area we’re in now is under control of the Federation and too risky for us to attempt contact.

  So much rides on Marinah.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Marinah

  MY PROMISED INTERROGATION is postponed. I can’t help wondering if it’s due to my new status or maybe I should say returned status as secretary of defense. Even after the president’s proclamation to Labyrinth, my day is spent basically twiddling my thumbs in my room. Like the Shadow Warriors, I’m little more than a prisoner and the guards in the outer hall prove things aren’t as the President wants them to appear.

  It’s the following morning before I have a chance to speak privately with Labyrinth. We sit down at one of the tables in the Warrior eating quarters. The area has eight tables with chairs, and nothing else to make it welcome including the walls which could use a nice coat of paint. Labyrinth looks right at home in the austere area wearing his new U.S. military fatigues, which I don’t comment on.

  “The more we look like them, the more they’ll trust us,” he says, obviously reading the distaste in my expression. “Even so,” he continues, “they have us eat here so humans are not exposed to our animal natures. We must smell bad too,” he adds with a straight face.

  “I know you stink, I’m not sure about the other Warriors,” I deadpan.

  He laughs and that’s it for small talk. Labyrinth has a lot to say. “I just returned from seeing where the hellhounds were sighted and I learned nothing new. I was told checking security would need to wait until later today.” He taps his finger on the table. “The Federation has a sizeable army. One of the soldiers I spoke with this morning says they are commandeering civilians and killing those who don’t comply. Entire families.”

  I cringe inside. “Do you believe him?”

  Labyrinth shrugs. “I do. He risked his life to speak to me and if he’s lying, I can’t understand why the Federation would have him tell me something so unfavorable to them. It makes no sense and I think we sho
uld believe what he told me.”

  A few years after beginning my analyst job, I started worrying about how new soldiers were brought in. My father assured me the Federation was not accepting anyone who didn’t willingly volunteer. At the onset of the hellhound attack, soldiers came out of the woodwork to save humanity. The death of millions slowly changed that. Being away from your family when they weren’t defended had soldiers deserting and returning home. I heard a few unsubstantiated rumors that the western U.S. resisted the new government once it formed, though I never brought this up with my father. Slowly the rumors dwindled and we were told those who didn’t come to the capital for safety died; killed by hellhounds, disease, or starvation. Other than the occasional rumor, my world was a tiny box where all my intel was fed to me by the Federation. It hurts to think that my father could have been involved with the corruption. He had to have known that things were not right.

  Before his death and the fight with the Shadow Warriors, areas were established within a hundred miles of the capital to house those unable to fight—young, old, and infirm. I thought this a good step. Even so, the makeshift shelters weren’t the safest areas and many people disappeared. The people in danger the least were those who had family members in the military like me. Only immediate family were given quarters within the tunnel network. I knew there were so many civilians left undefended, but it was one of the things I buried. It was far too hard to think of the billions who died throughout the world. I simplified my worry and only thought of those close to me, mainly my father who I loved with my entire heart.

  When the Federation sprung up, almost overnight, there was a lack of uniforms and red bandannas were worn on the upper arm to signify infantry. When soldiers died and more uniforms became available, red-striped patches replaced the bandannas. I never asked about the families of those soldiers who died and were made to leave the tunnels. Again, I buried my head in the sand.

  Now a shiver passes over my skin. I’m as guilty as the Federation. If I would have taken the time and analyzed the rumors and inconsistencies fed to us by the government, I would have seen the truth far sooner. Fear kept me in line like it did so many others and even so I hate making excuses for my conformity.

  I stare at my hands wondering how I was ever that person. “To kidnap humans,” I tell Labyrinth, refusing to use the gentler term “commandeer,” “they would need to travel further out and the only place would be west or possibly north into Canada. We were told Canada has a small working government. Now that I know the truth, the possibility of mass survivors gives unlimited potential on where the Federation could locate new enlistments. If humans survived in Cuba, they survived other places, including the U.S. Add to it that Americans are not easy to wipe out, and I think we have our answer. I should have seen what was going on before.” I glance up slowly expecting to see contempt in Labyrinth’s eyes. Instead, his expression is sympathetic.

  “The soldier who gave me the information said many more humans survived than you were led to believe. He was also told speaking to anyone about it would be considered treason. I only got lucky because he’s from a town within a stone’s throw of where I grew up and I knew one of his sisters. He said many are fighting back and he was unlucky enough to be caught in one of their skirmishes which is how he ended up with a red stripe on his uniform.” Labyrinth gives me a few seconds to absorb what he says before adding, “If the civilians don’t join, they’re shot on the spot.”

  I look around the room wondering how I ever fell for the Federation’s crap. I loved and admired my father so much and I guess it was far easier to be led blindly than to make waves. That was the old Marinah and I am no longer that woman. It’s time for me to change the things from my past. “I need to speak with my old co-workers and see what the latest intel is or at least what’s been fed to them.” I glance back at Labyrinth. “Like me, before, they don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

  His beautifully, dual colored eyes darken. “You can’t be certain. Don’t trust anyone you’re not one hundred percent sure of.” He glances over my shoulder and stops talking. The sound of military boots fills my ears.

  General Smyth steps into the room dressed in similar military fatigues to Labyrinth’s. “May I join you?” he asks. Without waiting for our assent, he pulls out a chair and sits. Looking directly at Labyrinth, he ignores me. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m hoping we can put our differences aside and work together. Fewer humans and Shadow Warriors will die if we do.”

  I kick Labyrinth under the table when he doesn’t answer quickly enough.

  The jerk still hesitates another long moment before intensifying his glare and speaking, “We trusted you once before and it didn’t end well. How will this time be different?” His voice is clipped and the general’s back stiffens subtly.

  King’s council decided Labyrinth shouldn’t roll over for the Federation and he should fight back enough to keep their suspicions down. I give him credit for not killing Smyth on the spot. The man is pure evil.

  The general scratches his chin and seemingly relaxes into his chair. The hard eyes give him away. “The Federation is no longer running scared. It took a little time for us to realize the mistakes of the past and we’re ready to fix what happened. If we had standardized communication, we would have reached out sooner.” The general glances momentarily my way to see if I’ll call him on his lie about wanting to contact the Warriors earlier than they actually did. Much of the data fed us in analytics came through communications with survivors or so they told us. I keep my mouth shut like a good little defense secretary. Labyrinth and I know the truth and it doesn’t help my cause to point it out. I need the general to think I’m on his side even if he doesn’t like me. He turns back to Labyrinth. “Ms. Church has her debrief and I’m here to escort her to the appointment. Please choose ten of your men to go out with me today and examine our defenses. I’ll return for you after dropping off Ms. Church.”

  “If Secretary Church isn’t going with us, me and my men won’t go.”

  I give Labyrinth big eyes and place my hand at my throat. “There are hellhounds out there. If you run into trouble, I’ll be in the way. Please take the general up on his offer. You’ll be safe with him.” The lie rolls off my tongue like roller skates on ice.

  Labyrinth’s facial muscles tighten because he doesn’t like that I won’t be going with him where he can keep a closer eye on me. I can handle myself and I’m hoping after the interrogation, I can visit my old friends and gain more intel.

  Labyrinth reluctantly concedes. “Thank you, General. Me and my men will join you.”

  The general stands and tugs my chair when I don’t immediately follow his lead. “Ms. Church, please come with me.”

  I give him my biggest, fake smile. “I believe it’s Secretary of Defense Church, but if you’d rather, I will answer to Secretary Church.”

  If his eyes could fry me on the spot, they would. “Secretary Church, please follow me,” he grinds out.

  My smile actually grows and this time it’s Labyrinth who kicks me under the table. Yeah, I’m pushing his buttons. A girl needs to have some fun. We leave the Warrior quarters and I follow the general for what seems miles underground before he leads me into a small room that looks like a police interview room. Interrogation is exactly what this is and the two-way mirror proves it. I allow Ms. Beast’s eyes to come to the forefront for a few seconds so I can see through the glass. The president and Officer Daniels are monitoring my answers. The general leaves and I’m left alone. Or at least alone in the room. Daniels doesn’t peal his eyes off me.

  The man who enters is unknown to me. He’s tall, maybe in his late thirties or early forties, and gives me a firm smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Ms. Church,” he greets. His military fatigues are crisply ironed, which is something you don’t see much. He sits, places a folder on the table, and smooths unseen wrinkles from the front of his pants.

  “I’ve been promoted to defense secretary
,” I say and add a smile so it doesn’t seem quite the rebuke.

  His return smile is tight. “My first name is Charles, maybe that would be better so we’re more comfortable with each other.”

  I place my hand out. “Charlie, I’m Marinah. Nice to meet you.”

  His soft grimace at the name assures me he doesn’t care for it. He looks down at the folder on the table between us. My name is printed on the label and he catches me looking at it. “This is your psychological profile and work history. I’m here to ascertain that you haven’t suffered post-traumatic stress after spending months with those filthy monsters.” His distaste for the Shadow Warriors is impossible to miss just by his tone. The name calling is unnecessary and I bite my tongue so I don’t give my rage away.

  Without reacting to his blatant bigotry, I bring my fingers up to my hair and twirl one of my braids in a nervous way going completely into acting mode. “I expected it to be worse than it was,” I whisper and lean in a little closer, “Their beast forms are horrible and it was hard to keep my revulsion hidden.” I shudder for effect.

  “Your father had no problems with Shadow Warriors, we didn’t think you would either,” he prods.

  The shake of my head is little more than one jerk from side to side. “I never understood my father’s regard for those animals. We need them to help us battle hellhounds. That doesn’t keep me from hoping they go back to their island and leave us alone afterward.”

  “Do you think King will do that? Leave us alone?” he clarifies.

  “I don’t know why he wouldn’t. They never mentioned anything about taking over the Federation and I spoke to many of them at length. They have their own worries.”

  “And those would be?”

  I twirl my braid again. “Hellhounds on the island for one. They also put a lot of time into agriculture and it keeps them busy. I tend to forget that they were once farmers. Working the land is very important to them and seems to keep them tame.”

 

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