Paradise of Lead Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  She closes her eyes and her body tenses. "Don't hurt me."

  "I'm not going to hurt you." Byron says. "You're coming with us. I can't let you fall into a life like this. A virgin . . . incredible. What's your name, virgin?"

  "Leena." The woman says, her voice small and soft.

  "Got a last name?"

  Leena looks away from him. "I'd rather not say."

  "Fine. Either way, you're coming with me. I can't let you do this to yourself. Don't worry. I'm a nice guy."

  "Nice guys usually don't smell like tequila and cigarette smoke."

  "How old are you, Leena?" Byron asks.

  "Twenty, sir."

  "Stop." Byron says as he lets go of her. "Stop calling me sir. Now, come drink with me."

  She shakes her head. "I don't drink."

  "Then come sit with me while I drink." He leads her back inside and all eyes are fixed on them. Byron doesn't care. Let them see him with a hooker. Not like it's never happened here before . . .

  "Why do you drink?" Leena asks as she sits at a table.

  Byron joins her and orders some tequila. "What kind of question is that?"

  She shrugs and pins her hair in a bun on top of her head. "Usually the men in here drink because they've lost someone out in the wasteland. Either they died or ran off with some M.A.G.E. God, I hate those creepy genetic experiments."

  Byron chokes on his tequila.

  Leena giggles at him. "What is your problem?"

  He wipes his mouth. "Nothing. Nothing at all. What do you have against us . . . I mean them?"

  Her pleasant smile vanishes and she crosses her arms across her chest. "More than you'd care to know."

  "Maybe I care more than you think I do."

  "The Inquisition wants to control them for some reason." Leena says. "They're dangerous, aren't they? There was an inquisitor in here about a week ago. He was posting wanted posters on the walls. There's a bounty on some M.A.G.E.s. Good money could be made by hunting them down. They're a waste of space anyway."

  Well, little miss innocent just got a lot darker. Byron grins. He likes them feisty. "So you'd never be with one of them?"

  "Romantically? Absolutely not. He would only hurt me."

  "Who told you that? Have you ever met one?"

  "No and I don't want to." Leena says. "Believe me, I would know if I did. Then I'd run away and find an inquisitor to kill it."

  Byron frowns. "It?"

  "M.A.G.E.s aren't actually people." Leena says.

  So this is what they teach people now. Byron sighs and takes another shot.

  "What about you? Have you seen one? You look like you've been around the wasteland enough to have experienced a lot of interesting things." Leena says as she leans over the table and stares at him with her wide eyes.

  "Oh, I have seen a lot." Byron says.

  "Then you have to tell me all of your stories. Am I really coming with you? I don't have any money."

  "You're coming with me and there's nothing you can do about it."

  "You can be my knight in shining armor like in those fantasy stories I used to read when I was little." Leena says as she bounces in her chair.

  "Sure, princess. I'll be your knight. Just don't expect me to be very chivalrous. I'm not that kind of pansy man. I don't drink fruity drinks and I don't wear tights. I eat with my hands and I don't bathe often. Can you deal with that?"

  She laughs and holds her face in her hands. "You are too funny. Where are you from?"

  "Not here."

  "Well, if you are taking me away, I need to know your name." Leena says.

  "Byron Erikson."

  Leena stops smiling and stares at him. She looks him over.

  Did he say something wrong?

  She leans back in her chair and taps her foot on the wooden floor. "I see."

  "Is that a problem?"

  "No, not at all."

  "Then why act like that?" Byron asks then takes another shot.

  "Nothing. Forget it. You're just very intriguing to me, Mr. Erikson."

  "Call me Byron." He takes her hand and kisses it.

  She blushes again.

  Damien pulls up a chair at the table. "Haven't you had enough?"

  "Do I look dead?" Byron asks.

  "Um . . . no?"

  "Then I haven't had enough." Byron says. "You think I want to remember this trip? Four criminals packed into a van that could break apart at any moment? I'm the only sane one. Then there's you . . . a womanizing control freak, Blice, the psychopathic druggy who is so strung out he can't do anything, and Isidore, the priest who drives like he's chasing cockroaches in the dark. I'm surprised I cared enough to remember their names."

  Damien doesn't look amused. "Who's this? Please tell me you haven't hired her. We don't have time for you to play around. We need to get going. The you-know-what is going to be coming after us."

  Leena steals one of Byron's shots of tequila. "You mean the Inquisition?" She gulps it down.

  Byron and Damien look at each other and both start to panic. Damien stands and grabs Byron's arm. "Come on, we're getting out of here."

  Leena stands and wipes her lips on the back of her arm. "Where are we going?"

  "Oh no, no, no. I don't think so." Damien says. "You're not coming with us."

  "Why not? Byron told me I am."

  Damien glares at Byron. "What the hell? Are we recruiting members to our band of outcasts now?"

  Byron shrugs and takes Leena's arm. "The more the merrier."

  "The more the more crowded our van gets." Damien says.

  "I'll play you for her." Byron says as he picks up a deck of cards.

  "We're not doing this here."

  Byron sits and shuffles the deck. "Come on, man. Let's settle this like men."

  "Fine." Damien sits across from Byron. "Make it quick."

  * * *

  When they get back to the van, Blice seems to be doing better and his haunting purple eyes never leave Leena's body.

  "You're not touching her." Byron says.

  Blice looks around and finds a label from a can of beans and a pen. He scribbles on it and holds it out to Byron. Where did you find her?

  "What? Can you not talk?" Byron asks.

  Blice shakes his head. He writes on the label again. Dark matter accident when I was a kid.

  "She was in the bar. I told her to come with us."

  Blice grabs Leena's arm and they lock eyes for a tense and uncomfortable minute.

  When Leena starts to cry, Byron pulls her away. "God. What is your problem, McSage? Never seen a woman before? Don't touch her. You made her cry."

  Blice rolls his eyes and stares out the window as he runs his bony fingers through his stringy black hair.

  Damien slams the door as he slides into the front passenger seat. "I'm not sitting back there anymore. Tell me one thing, Byron."

  "What's that?"

  "How many aces does a deck of cards have?" Damien asks.

  "Enough." Byron says as he pulls Leena into his lap and holds his arms around her stomach.

  "You cheating bastard." Damien says as he adjusts the side mirror.

  "Nope. You have no proof of that, Montgomery."

  Isidore honks the horn for a minute straight.

  Damien pushes on his arm. "Stop it, would you? What is your problem?"

  Isidore lets up on the horn. "There will be no arguing in my van. Is that clear? Don't touch my mirrors, Damien. Now, let us pray."

  They all glare at him.

  "Fine." Isidore says as he starts the van. "We won't pray. If you die and go to hell, it's not my fault. I used to be a priest and I tried to lead you to salvation."

  "We're too stubborn for salvation. Haven't you figured that out by now?" Byron asks.

  "Coming from the drunken criminal with the hooker on his lap? Why am I not surprised?"

  Leena slaps Isidore's head. "I'm not a hooker."

  "Well, you look like one."

  She hits him again. "That'
s not nice."

  "Sorry." Isidore says as they start out into the desert. "You're beautiful."

  Leena puts her arm around Byron's neck and studies Isidore. "What's your name?"

  "Isidore Williams."

  She laughs and shakes her head. "This isn't happening. So, all of you are M.A.G.E.s."

  "What makes you think that?" Damien asks.

  Leena glances at Blice and they share a cold few seconds as they look at each other. "No reason. I can feel the radiation."

  "How can you feel it?" Byron asks.

  "I'm sensitive to it."

  Byron plays with the strands of her hair that have come undone. "Does it make you sick?"

  "No." She looks into Byron's eyes and squeezes his hand. "It makes me tingly all over."

  Well, that might be the sexiest thing ever. "I see. So . . . do I make you tingly all over?"

  "Ugh, stop it, will you?" Damien hits the roof of the van with his fist. "Wait until we stop somewhere to get all over each other. No one wants to see or hear this."

  A paper airplane flies across the van and hits Damien in the shoulder.

  "What the hell? Blice . . ." Damien picks it up and unfolds it then sighs and passes it to Byron. "You are ridiculous."

  Byron reads it. Speak for yourself. I'm bored.

  "New rule." Isidore says. "No sex in the van. Of any kind. Not with women, each other, yourself, a duck, a cactus, nothing."

  "What about-" Byron starts, but he is interrupted.

  "Nope. Nothing."

  "The van?" Byron asks.

  Damien laughs. "Oh God."

  Isidore looks into the rearview mirror. "What? Sex with my van? Why did God create people like you?"

  "I'm joking." Byron says.

  "I can never know for sure with people like you."

  "How far do we have to go to reach Rubble City?" Byron asks.

  "Sit back and get comfortable. We have a ways to go." Isidore says.

  "Are we there yet?"

  Isidore slams on the breaks then turns around and points his finger in Byron's face. "We are not going to start that. Say it one more time and you will be walking to Rubble City."

  He holds his hands up. "Sorry."

  Isidore laughs maniacally and floors it. Sand and dust fill the air. "Wanna pray now?"

  Leena laughs and grabs onto Byron. "He's insane."

  "Yep. I guess this would be a bad time to tell you that I'm hungry." Byron says.

  "Mr. Erikson, I might have been a priest, but I know how to kill people like you." Isidore says. "Have you ever played the quiet game? Everyone has to be quiet and the first person to say anything gets a bullet between the eyes."

  "That's not fair. Blice is gonna win." Damien says.

  "Now you're on the list too, Mr. Montgomery." Isidore reaches under his seat and pulls out a Colt .45 revolver.

  "Are you gonna drive with that in your hand?" Damien asks.

  "The quiet game has started."

  3

  With only one bullet hole on the interior of the van from Byron complaining about Isidore's driving, they stop for the night all in one piece. Outside of a small town, they find a fuel station and grab some quick food before returning to the van. Leena stays behind when she finds some sick children. Byron doesn't like the idea of letting her go off alone, but the family seems trustworthy enough. He can't always tell her what to do, after all. Why is he so consumed with thoughts of her when they just met? Something about that woman makes him feel like they've known each other for years. He wants to get to know her better and get closer, if she will ever let him. All the way here, they whispered to each other when Isidore wasn't pointing his revolver at them.

  Byron finishes his sandwich and grabs a jacket from the van before joining Isidore outside on the sand. He studies him. After Isidore was fiddling with the radio, something about him changed and he hasn't said a word. Even now, he sits on the cold sand and stares off into the night. "Isidore? Are you okay?"

  Isidore takes a drink from his bottle of tequila and slips his boots off. "No. I'm not."

  "Anything I can do to help?"

  "No. There's nothing that can be done now. I should have seen this coming. I tried to have hope and this is what happens. I have prayed and tried my hardest to stay positive about this entire situation, but even a priest has doubts. Seems like my doubts have come true."

  "I know we've only known each other for a little bit. You weren't in the prison for as long as me and Damien, but we're all in this together now so if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. I'm not the most intuitive man, but I've been alive for twenty-six years. That counts for something."

  "I guess." Isidore says. "Do you want to know why I have been searching for those other two time M.A.G.E.s? They were my parents. Well, I intercepted a radio transmission earlier between Paradise and some inquisitors out in the wasteland. There's only one time M.A.G.E. now."

  "I don't understand." Byron says.

  "They killed my parents then salvaged their technology from their bodies." Isidore says as he holds his jacket tighter around his body. "I was born in a science laboratory. They installed some type of microchip in my brain and apparently they want it back. They're willing to kill in order to get it."

  Byron watches Isidore's deep blue eyes and he starts to feel sick. "Oh God. I'm so sorry."

  Isidore stares up at the few glimmering stars that haven't been choked out by the smoky haze in the black sky. "It doesn't matter anyway. None of this matters anymore. The truth is . . . it's my fault. I'm the one who told the Inquisition where to find my parents. I broke under their interrogation methods and it was too much. That was months ago. I hadn't found any evidence that they'd been caught so I thought they had escaped."

  "Do you have anyone else? Some sibling or something?" Byron asks.

  "No."

  There has to be something. "Could you use your magic to go back in time and save them?"

  "It doesn't work like that." Isidore says as he combs his silver hair with his fingers. "We've never really been able to control time. It's all in our minds. The radiation and the microchip manipulate our minds and cause us to relive memories or at very stressful times in our lives, see glimpses of the future. It's never the same, though. The visions of the future may or may not happen. I'm a failed experiment, just like everyone else. Except I have a piece of stolen Inquisition technology imbedded in my brain so they want it back."

  "Then I have even more of a reason to get revenge on those bastards."

  "What did they do to you?" Isidore asks.

  Byron leans back against the side of the van. The cold metal penetrates his jacket and he starts to shiver. The memories are even colder. He's never told anyone this, but what can it hurt? "They took my wives from me. Aleesha and Meygan. They were my life. I cared for them both dearly. When they arrested me the first time, those bastards raped them and then shot them in the head. I was in handcuffs and in the back of their transport. There was nothing I could do. I screamed out and begged them to stop as I watched through the window."

  "I'm so sorry to hear that. But I thought that M.A.G.E.s couldn't marry."

  "Legally we can't, but we were just like any family." Byron says. "Aleesha and Meygan were best friends and they were my best friends as well. The Inquisition has taken my family from me too. It might not be very comforting, but know that I understand what you're going through. No matter how much it hurts, we can't let them win. Eventually they are going to pay for the lives they have destroyed all in the name of money. That's what this has always been about. The people who control the technology control the world and the money. That's why they're scared of us. They know the power we possess and what we could be capable of if we take a stand against them. Making intelligent weapons is the worst idea they could have had."

  "I thought the worst idea they had was blowing everything up in the first place." Isidore says.

  "True. But think about it. They have all the food behind the walls of those c
ompounds where they grow it. They have the fresh water, the manufacturing, the education, everything. They have it better than the people did before the war. While they are having parties and enjoying life, we are out here in the wasteland with no hope for a future beyond rubble and emptiness."

  "What if we turned the tables?" Isidore asks.

  "Turn the tables?" Byron asks. "What are you proposing?"

  "Just thinking that if there was a way for me to hack into their computers and destroy their irrigation and filtration systems, they wouldn't have any food and they would die behind those lead walls of theirs."

  "Wouldn't that take away the little bit of food they let into the wasteland for us?" Byron asks.

  Isidore shrugs his shoulders. "Wouldn't it be worth it?"

  He has a point. But anything like that is so dangerous.

  "Where's Leena?" Isidore asks.

  "She's in town helping some sick children. They love her and she loves helping people. Where does a kind heart like hers belong in all of this destruction and pain?"

  "You'd better be prepared to fight for her with your life." Isidore says. "Kindness only makes a person a target in a place like this. What do you plan on doing with her?"

  "Keep her by my side as long as she wants to be here. I don't trust Blice around her, though. He continually stares at her and I just get this bad feeling about him."

  "Well, then you need to keep an eye on Leena." Isidore says. "Too many people are already suffering out here. Tell me something. Do you love her?"

  Love? Is this what he's feeling? How can he truly tell? He just met her. "I don't know. Isn't love just something women make up to feel better about themselves?"

  Isidore closes his eyes and sighs as he drinks from his bottle of tequila. "Would you die for her?"

  "For Leena? Of course." Byron says and he means it. For some strange and unknown reason, he means it.

  "Then that's all that matters."

  Byron looks up as someone approaches them. He smiles.

  Damien hands him a cigarette and sits next to them. "So, what are we discussing on this fine night?"