Paradise of Lead Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  When a door opens, the ringing stops and the numbers fade again. Isidore takes a much needed deep breath and opens his eyes.

  The men stop what they are doing and bow as Blice enters the room. "Master Director! We weren't expecting you. Do you need something?"

  "What is going on in here?" Blice asks. "What are you doing to Isidore?"

  "Following orders, sir."

  "Excuse me? I gave no orders for Isidore Williams to be operated on. He was to be sent to my room immediately. No one here touches Isidore without my permission." Blice grabs the bloody knife from the man's hand. "What is this?"

  The men go into the glass section of the room with Blice. "Inquisitor Allen gave us the order to extract the equipment."

  "Did you touch him? Is this his blood? You cut him, didn't you? I swear if you hurt him, I will kill all of you. You follow my orders, not anyone else's."

  "We started the incision, but the anesthesia is wearing off and he is waking up."

  Blice's face turns red and he slams the glass door shut. Isidore watches through the glass wall as Blice shouts at them and begins throwing clip boards and coffee mugs across the room. He points at Isidore and screams some more. The soundproof walls keep Isidore from hearing what's being said, but Blice's anger can be felt without hearing the words.

  Did Blice just defend him?

  Blice grabs one of the men and throws him up against the wall. He points the blade in the man's face and shouts more then pushes the man away. He picks up another coffee cup and it shatters against the glass. The men in the white coats leave. Blice throws down the knife then returns to the window and places his hand against the glass. He smiles a small grin and waves at Isidore.

  What is going on? Is this really happening or is his mind still messed up from the computer attached to him and the medicine?

  Blice slides the glass door open and steps closer. "Are you all right, buddy?"

  Isidore wants to ask questions or fight back or something, but he can't. The anesthesia is still too strong. After what he saw them do to Byron and Damien, Isidore doesn't know what could be coming for him. He had hidden behind the armory and watched the entire thing until the inquisitors hunted him down and then he woke up here. He closes his eyes when Blice reaches out and touches his face. Is he going to kill him?

  "Talk to me, Isidore. Say something. Please tell me they didn't damage you too much." Blice sounds concerned, genuinely and desperately concerned. "Can you even understand what I'm saying? God, you look terrible. Speak to me. Don't scare me like this."

  "I don't feel good." Isidore says.

  "Don't worry. I won't let them touch you again. Here." Blice unplugs the cable from Isidore's head and unties the straps holding him down. He pulls Isidore to his feet and helps him to stand.

  As Blice examines him, Isidore finds a strange and unexpected comfort here in Blice's arms. It takes all of Isidore's concentration and willpower to remain standing. His legs buckle under him, but Blice holds him upright. At least the torturous ringing sound has stopped.

  "You're not bleeding too bad. I think you'll be okay with some wasteland stitches. I would get someone to do it here, but you have to leave. I need you to get out of here as soon as possible. I wish we could stay and chat, but there's no time for that, not with the way things are going around here. Don't stop anywhere. Don't talk to anyone. Just run and get back to your van, okay? Get your gun and if anyone comes near you, you have my permission to shoot them." Blice straps a watch around Isidore's wrist and presses some buttons. "You have coordinates and GPS programmed into this watch for you so you can find your way. Press this blue button and you will immediately call me. Only use that in case of an emergency. We can't have anyone knowing about you and me. It will be our little secret."

  "Where's . . . Byron?" Isidore manages to ask through the lingering fog of the anesthesia.

  "Don't concern yourself with Byron. Okay? As soon as I get what I need from him, things will work out. You need to do what I say. Is that clear?"

  Isidore nods his head and tries to steady himself enough to be able to walk. Why is Blice helping him and why does he feel like he needs to do what he says?

  "Take this." Blice slips his necklace off and places it around Isidore's neck. "The Inquisition insignia will get you past the security gates. Be careful." He then hugs Isidore and pats him on the back. "The drugs will wear off within a few minutes. I will be in contact with you. Now go and don't get caught. Fight if you have to. I can't lose you again."

  "You . . . you killed Damien." Isidore says.

  "Go look in your van."

  "What?"

  Blice shakes his head. "He didn't kill Seth, his partner. He only betrayed him."

  Isidore doesn't understand half of what is being said to him and Blice's usually cryptic words aren't helping the situation. Nothing is making sense and if Blice wants the Inquisition to kill all of them, then why is he letting Isidore go free? Is it to give him a false sense of hope so it will be more fun to watch him die?

  "I'll walk you down the hall until we are passed the areas with the highest security. The doors there will only open with the correct DNA. Past that, you should be able to manage on your own." Blice puts his arm around Isidore's back and supports him as they walk through the doors and down the long hallway.

  "Why are you helping me?" Isidore asks.

  "Shh. Now is not the time for questions. You just concentrate on clearing your mind. All will be explained in time."

  "You're scaring me."

  "Just know that I am protective of you and no one will lay a hand on you as long as I am able to stop it." Blice says as he puts his hand up to a holographic sensor and the door opens. "I will do anything for you, Isidore. You're my friend and I hope that someday soon we will be together again like we used to be years ago."

  Like they used to be? Isidore has no idea what he is talking about.

  "My father is working to fix things around here. I can't say too much because of the security cameras. Okay, Isidore. Can you walk on your own? You need to continue on from here alone."

  "I think I'm good. Hey, Blice? Thanks."

  "I owe you more than this. Take care. I'll hold off the security forces as long as I can." Blice says as he turns and goes back through the steel doors.

  Isidore makes his way down the hallways until he notices a familiar feeling and he stops in front of a door. He looks inside through the tiny window. Byron. He holds up Blice's insignia to the holographic control panel and the door slides open.

  "Get up." Isidore kicks Byron's side. "Get up, Byron. We have to get out of here."

  "What?" Byron wakes up and stands. "Isidore? What are you doing?"

  "I hacked into their system and shut down the security for ten minutes." Isidore lies. "We have to hurry."

  "You're okay?"

  "Yah. I managed to overload my microchip and short circuit the equipment they were using on me. The inquisitor died and I freed myself." So apparently the anesthesia is wearing off enough for him to be able to fabricate some acceptable lies. Good. "Are you injured at all? What's all that blood from? Is your leg hurt?"

  Byron shakes his head. "No. Don't worry about it. It's just a scratch."

  "You're limping."

  "I said it's nothing. Let's get the hell out of this place."

  21

  The settlement doesn't have much, but it has everything that Byron needs right now: a bed and Alezi Blue. He is going to drink until he can't drink any more. He wipes away the sweat and dirt that has caked to his face and stretches out on the mattress that is falling apart, but is still more comfortable than the floor of that cell. They have been walking for a day straight and this desert sun is not being kind on either on them. At least Isidore has some sort of GPS and knows where he's going. Without that, they would have been lost a long time ago.

  As soon as Isidore gets back in here, Byron is going to get drunk and go to sleep. How much more walking do they have to do? He really doesn't
want to know. He really needs to start drinking soon or his thoughts will take over and cause him to go to a dark place that he is trying to forget about. He can't deal with thoughts of Damien right now. Instead, Byron thinks about Blice and invents creative and extremely painful ways he wants to kill him. He swears that Blice will suffer for betraying them all. Nothing Damien could have done made him deserve a death like that. Damien would never hurt or betray anyone. He was one of the kindest, soft-hearted men on the planet.

  Isidore steps inside the room and closes the door behind him. He tosses a bottle and a sandwich to Byron. "Here ya go. Don't drink too much, okay? I don't know if we'll have to fight between here and Rubble City."

  "Thanks." Byron opens the bottle and takes a long drink. This is exactly what he needed. He watches Isidore who goes to the window and stares outside. "Are you doing okay, Isidore?"

  "I'm fine. I just have a lot on my mind right now."

  He notices the blood on the back of Isidore's neck and where his silver hair is matted. "Are you injured?"

  "Oh, a bit. I'll find a medic in Rubble City and have him sew it up."

  "Mind if I look at it?"

  Isidore sits on the bed. "Why not?"

  Byron pushes Isidore's hair out of the way and groans. "This doesn't look good. There's some sort of connector thing here."

  "It's a USB port."

  "Oh."

  "I was hooked up to a computer." Isidore says.

  "Does it hurt?"

  "That doesn't hurt. The deep cut on the other side hurts like hell. That's where they were trying to cut my skull open. It's still bleeding, isn't it?"

  "Yep." Byron says. "It's on your shirt too."

  "Perfect."

  "Want me to see if anyone here can help you?"

  Isidore pulls away from Byron and takes his shirt off. "Don't worry about it." He goes to the basin and dips his shirt in the water then starts cleaning away the blood. "I don't think they got too deep before Blice . . . never mind."

  "Blice? What did Blice do? Did he hurt you?"

  "I don't know why I said that. My mind is so screwed up right now. Don't ask me any difficult or confusing questions until I have a chance to stop this bleeding and recover. Can you bandage this for me?"

  "Sure." Byron cuts through the fabric and ties a strip of it around Isidore's head. "It's not the prettiest thing, but it will work."

  "Thanks. I could care less about how I look right now. I'm trying to survive. This is one of the many reasons I resent not being a full computer. Computers and machines don't bleed. Then besides that, I'm battling some kind of illness. I think Damien might have been right about me having a virus. Some days are better than others. What did they do to you?"

  "Asked me about Blice."

  "Who asked you?"

  "Inquisitor Allen. I hate that man." Byron says.

  "Well, we have that in common. What did you tell him about Blice?"

  "Everything I knew. He's addicted to drugs, he uses dark matter, and he's a backstabbing evil spawn of Satan."

  "You two really never have liked each other, have you?" Isidore asks.

  "And for good reason. I don't know how much you were able to find out, but Blice is President Evans's illegitimate son and the Master Director of the Inquisition. How could we have been so stupid? Do you know about Damien?"

  "I do."

  "I swear that I am going to kill McSage. I will hunt him down and slaughter him like the monster he is."

  Isidore sighs and closes his eyes. "In time, I'm sure our questions will be answered."

  "Time has never solved anything."

  "Well, this T.I.M.E. is aiming to do something about all of this and find a way to stop the suffering."

  "Clever."

  "It's the truth." Isidore says.

  "So where did you get that fancy watch thing of yours?" Byron asks.

  "I stole it from an inquisitor. I have quick fingers, remember?"

  "I still don't understand how you managed to sneak past the high security checkpoints and not get caught once."

  Isidore shrugs his shoulders. "Guess I'm just lucky."

  "Or you had help."

  "Yah right. Who would have helped me? You know the bounty on my head."

  "That's true." Byron says and takes another drink.

  "I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to incriminate me and say that I'm working with the Inquisition. Why would I get help from them? They cut my skull open and were going to kill me."

  Byron finishes his sandwich. "I guess you're right. I didn't mean to make you upset."

  Isidore throws his shirt down on the floor and goes back to the window.

  Well, that didn't have the intended outcome. Why does Byron always say the exact wrong thing and make people angry? "Isidore . . . I'm sorry."

  "Forget about it. Drink your tequila and leave me alone."

  "Do you want some?"

  "No. I'm giving up alcohol." Isidore says.

  "Why would you do something crazy like that?"

  "I don't have to explain my decisions to you. Get ready. We're leaving."

  Then he's going alone. "Leaving? We just got here. It's getting dark."

  "We'll walk through the night. I can't stay here with you."

  "Stop. Don't leave because of me." Byron says. "I'll shut up and go to sleep. I didn't mean to make you angry. Really. I was just trying to have a conversation."

  "The best thing you can do right now is not say another word. Don't ask about me, don't look at me, and stop watching me. I'm fine and I don't need your sympathy or your interrogations."

  Byron sighs and lies down on the bed. He stares up at the ceiling that is falling apart. It reminds him of the one in the inn he stayed in with Leena in Rubble City. Leena. He reaches into his shirt and takes off his necklace. He holds it up and watches the light glittering across the tiny engraved letters. He has so much to ask her, so much he wants to know about her that she never got a chance to tell him. Blice didn't deserve to marry her. She was probably forced into that anyway. The memories and thoughts of Leena comfort Byron. He sets his bottle of tequila on the floor and drifts to sleep.

  * * *

  Isidore points past some debris and twisted metal. "I see Vanessa. Thank God. I am tired of walking in this sand."

  "You're not the only one." Byron says.

  "We'll need to get prepared pretty fast and get away from this area."

  "Why? What's wrong?"

  "I overheard an Inquisition radio announcement earlier at the inn." Isidore says. "Things are falling apart. Rubble City is in chaos. There are inquisitors everywhere. They are rounding up the Rubble Rebels, M.A.G.E.s, and anyone who supports them then taking them into Paradise where they are conducting painful experiments on them until they die. We've started a war."

  "What about finding a medic to tend to your injury?"

  "I'll sneak inside later and find someone."

  "I guess it's just me and you now." Byron says.

  "You're forgetting someone, aren't you?"

  "Damien's dead."

  "Since when?" Isidore asks as he slides the van door open.

  Damien is sitting in the back of the van with gauze and bandages wrapped around his back. He smiles. "Hey guys. I was wondering when you two would be getting back. Vanessa's missed you, Isidore."

  Byron gasps and climbs inside. "Damien?" He goes to him and takes him in his arms. "Damien! They told me you died. But you're here. You're okay."

  "I'm fine. I'm a bit sore and woozy from the medicine, but other than that, I'm pretty good. Be careful. Don't hug me too tightly."

  Byron pulls Damien closer and kisses him.

  "Did you just . . . kiss me?" Damien asks.

  "Yes. Deal with it." Byron says as he opens a bottle of tequila and takes a drink.

  "I'm still not into guys."

  Byron shrugs his shoulders. "I know. Me neither. Like I said, deal with it. Don't worry. It wasn't a romantic kiss or anything. Want a drink?"

>   "You've been drinking already, haven't you? Tequila makes you flirt with me."

  "Yah. Don't read too far into it."

  Damien laughs and takes the bottle. "I will never understand you, Byron Erikson."

  "Neither will I, Damien Montgomery. Neither will I."

  Isidore starts the engine and crawls into the driver's seat. "How's my baby?" He kisses the steering wheel. "Oh, I missed you so much, Vanessa. Was Damien a gentleman? Did he take care of you?"

  Damien and Byron look at each other and laugh. Well, it's good to see Isidore back to his normal self.

  "Have you heard anything about the growing upheaval in Rubble City, Damien?" Isidore asks.

  "There was a radio transmission earlier this morning about it. Then there were some Inquisition helicopters flying over the area."

  "How did you get all fixed up and back here?" Byron asks.

  Damien shakes his head and takes a drink of Byron's tequila. "I have no idea. I think some Rubble Rebels found me and got me to a medic. I remember waking up in here with my back all patched up. The only clue I have is this note that someone left. They typed it so there's no way of me figuring out who wrote it." He hands the crinkled paper to Byron.

  The next time you decide to betray someone, make sure there's not a knife pointed at your own back. Get some rest and don't move around too much. With the regeneration magic they used, you should be as good as new in a couple of weeks. The medics have been paid and all you need to worry about is healing. Keep Vanessa safe for Isidore. I hope you've learned your lesson, Montgomery.

  22

  When Isidore and Byron are asleep in the van, Damien sneaks outside and slips the gold sensor on his forearm. Time to let Seth know that he's still alive. He sinks down into the sand and leans back against the cold metal of the van. The screen glows green and he dials in the number. "This is Agent Montgomery reporting in."

  "Thank God. Damien!"

  Well, Seth sounds abnormally joyous. "What's gotten into you, Agent Seth?"