by Sean Grigsby
I can drive that.
But she was drunk! Not just a little buzzed.
The world is ending and I’m worried about a DUI?
To hell with the police. If they tried to pull her over, she’d just hit the gas pedal to the floor. And for God’s sake, she was still a UCNA senator! She’d have their badges if they gave her any grief.
Anyway, she’d take the back roads as best she could.
Having made up her mind, she slid on a pair of tennis shoes, pulled a jacket over her rumpled, sad kitten shirt, and scooped up her keys as she strode out the door.
A horn blared behind Dolfuse as she swerved back into her own lane. “Damn old biddy!” she yelled to no one but the dash. It had been the third time she’d nearly wrecked, but for a drunken two and a half hour drive, that could be considered admirable.
Her car’s navigation system, in a husky masculine voice, told her to take her next right. The destination would be at the end of the drive. When she turned, the road became gravel, her hover engines sending dust all around her car. An abundance of dark trees lined the path, and the moon was the only other illumination besides her headlights. Dolfuse considered that it might have been a terrible idea to come out here.
But since I’m nearly there…
Maybe Renee Horowitz would have a couple aspirin for her throbbing head.
“You have arrived.” The navigation voice smoldered through her speakers. It reminded her of Bobby’s voice.
The two-story house had that old-time country feel, one she recognized from growing up in the boonies of Arkansas. A large porch extended from the front where a swing hung from two chains. Darkness stared from the windows and a smoothed-out square of dirt by the eastern corner sat empty.
It was just as well no one was home. The time it had taken Dolfuse to drive from outside Washington had been used to ensure she stayed between the mayo and the mustard. She hadn’t thought of what she’d say to Renee Horowitz.
Dolfuse ran her hand along the porch railing as she stepped onto the old gray wood. The cushioned porch swing felt cool against her back when she sat. With her heels, she rocked back and forth, looking at the peeling paint above her, at the black trees surrounding the Horowitz estate like an army of titans.
She imagined Lena sitting there on summer nights, reading or just listening to the crickets chirp. Then one day it had all been taken away. Why?
A pair of headlights cut around the bend, the car rolling on rubber wheels. Dolfuse forgot some people preferred the antique look. The vehicle cruised down the gravel like a golden whale, crunching the rocks in that wonderful sound Dolfuse hadn’t heard since her daddy’s farm. The shadowy figure in the driver’s seat had short, frizzy hair, but that was all she could see.
The driver parked behind Dolfuse’s hover car, but left the engine running. After opening the door, she stood, keeping one foot inside the car. “Can I help you?”
“You can if you’re Renee Horowitz.” Dolfuse got off the porch swing.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Senator Linda Dolfuse.”
“OK?” The older woman shrugged.
“I’m here on matters of continental security.”
“That makes no sense. I work at a small-town bank, and you’re slurring your words. Let’s cut the bullshit.”
Dolfuse leaned against a porch post. “I would have used a lie if it would have worked. But I’m telling you the truth.”
“You drunk?”
“I’ve had a rough couple of days.”
Renee stepped out of the car and crossed her arms. Her ash gray hair had been cut close to the scalp and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes looked more like the effects of stress than age. “What’s this really about?”
“Your daughter, Lena.”
With a swallow and stretch of her neck, Renee leaned in through her car’s window and shut the engine off. She kept her head down as she passed Dolfuse, heading for the front door. “I don’t have a daughter.”
She disappeared inside the house, leaving the door wide open for Dolfuse. The senator’s head spun, like she’d just gotten off a Tilt-a-Whirl, but she staggered in, one foot at a time.
“You look like you could use some coffee,” Renee said in the dark. A light clicked on to Dolfuse’s left, revealing a kitchen with yellow cabinets.
“And some aspirin if you have it.”
“Ibuprofen, but it works the same damn way.” Renee pointed to a chair at a small dining table. “Go ahead and have a seat. You can take a rest before you head back to… Washington?”
Dolfuse nodded.
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry you came all the way out here for nothing.”
Dolfuse began to think Renee Horowitz was right. But nothing ever got done if you gave up. Drunk or not. Depressed or not. Dolfuse would get… something out of this.
“All I’ve got is an ancient can of Folgers.” Renee clanged from cupboard to cabinet. Soon she sat down and stared at Dolfuse as the coffee maker burbled its brew.
“I know you have a daughter,” Dolfuse said. “I’ve seen her.”
Renee looked away, tensed her jaw. “Does the government make a habit of coming out at all hours of the night to rub people’s faces in their own mistakes?”
“You regret shipping her?”
The hollow kitchen light glistened against fresh tears in the corners of Renee Horowitz’s eyes. Her lip trembled. “Every day of my life.”
“Why did you do it?”
Renee rubbed away the tears and cleared her throat. “What does this have to do with continental security? What do you mean you’ve seen my daughter?”
“We sent a drone to see what goes on,” Dolfuse pointed to the sky, “up there. It’s… not what we expected.”
“Is she OK?”
“This is why I needed to talk to someone, someone I didn’t know.” Dolfuse couldn’t help smile a little, anticipation with sadness weighing it down. “I wanted to see if I was the only one.”
“The only what?”
“The only one who couldn’t forget their daughter. They may have been sent away, but something else filled the void they left. The most unbearable agony I’ve ever felt. And the problem is that feeling comes and goes, always there, always ready to drag you under.”
Renee stared at Dolfuse for a moment, then stood. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
Dolfuse followed her upstairs, Renee turning on the lights as they went. At the end of the hall they stopped at a room.
Renee nodded to the door. “In there.”
Dolfuse opened it, feeling for a light switch along the wall. With a flick, the ceiling light, along with a dazzling string of pink Christmas bulbs curled into spirals on the wall, illuminated a pink canopy bed and purple rugs. Posters of bands and pop singers popular a decade before hung in random, nonsymmetrical spots. It was a girl’s room, a teenage girl. One who was deeply loved by the look of the décor.
So curious, Dolfuse thought. Why do we discard what we love?
Renee stood in the doorway, almost as if she was afraid to enter. “She was always such a good girl. Never stayed out too late. Did her homework. Went to temple every week. When she told me she was pregnant…”
Dolfuse moved to sit on the bed.
“Don’t!”
The senator stopped and turned back to Renee. “Pregnant? What happened to her baby?”
“I had it taken care of.”
“Did she want to keep it?”
Renee couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. “Of course she did. She wanted to marry that boy. I couldn’t allow it. I was so blinded by my rage and disappointment; I filed the shipping papers in a blur. It felt like someone else was controlling my feet to walk into that clinic, someone else moving my hand to sign my daughter away.”
“But it wasn’t.”
Renee shook her head. “No. It was me. It was my choice. And I forgot the rule about choices.”
“What’s that?”
> “They have consequences.”
Oh, hell, did Dolfuse ever know that. She thought she’d come for answers, but being honest with herself she really came for something to make her feel better about everything that had happened. She only felt worse.
“Is Lena–” A sound from outside cut Renee off, something distant but speeding closer. A robotic chirping. “What is that?”
An icy chill ran down Dolfuse’s spine. That sound. She knew what it was. She’d heard it before.
Chapter 52
“Alright, ladies.” Lena wiped sweat from her face after they’d loaded the last cyclone into the airship. “Clean your gash and get ready to dash. We’re flying the fuck out of here.”
The OC, the Daughters of Forgotten Light, Taylor, and the few remaining dwellers all crammed into the cabin, leaving no room for comfort or discretion, all keeping quiet and staring anywhere but at each other as they shifted elbows and knees.
This is going to be a long trip, Lena thought.
Ava had volunteered to fly and shuffled her way to the cockpit.
“You sure she won’t wreck this thing?” Shamika zipped Rory into her jacket and gave the baby a finger to suckle. It didn’t ease the baby’s crying.
Lena returned Shamika’s smug face. “Ava can drive anything that moves. Isn’t that right, Ava?”
“I’m also good at shooting mouthy bitches, too.” Ava shouted over the warming engines.
They all laughed, even the OC sheilas, although not as loudly. The airship jerked off the ground, and Lena grabbed the side of the cabin to keep from falling out.
Damn it, Ava!
“Just working the kinks out,” Ava said.
Lena looked at her fellow travelers before shutting the door. “I hope everybody has what they need.”
“Oh shit. Hold up.” Shamika hopped from the airship and stomped off toward a pile of manna boxes.
If it had just been Shamika, Lena would have told Ava to fly off. But the OC leader had Rory with her, and that gave the others no choice but to wait.
“Where the hell are you going?” Lena shouted.
Shamika searched the manna boxes with one hand, while keeping Rory close with the other. “Manna juice for the trip.” She retrieved a small glass bottle and held it up as she ran back. “Got it.”
The airship was three or four feet off the ground, Ava trying to keep it low enough for Shamika and the baby. Lena grasped Shamika’s hands and pulled, but before Shamika could get a foothold into the cabin, a humming filled the air over the airship engines, and Ava cursed from the cockpit.
A blue-wheeled cyclone, unwomanned, zoomed toward the airship at a hundred miles an hour.
Ava lifted the craft, veering hard to the right, now twenty feet off the ground. The women behind Lena slammed into her and each other, but Lena kept hold of Shamika as she dangled from the airship door. Rory cried from Shamika’s jacket, somehow knowing, like the rest of them, something had gone terribly wrong.
Shamika shrieked and a crop of red, spiky hair appeared at her feet. Farica, face caked in dried blood, gripped Shamika’s legs with both hands. The Amazon screamed laughter as they soared farther up, up over Grindy’s, up over the streets and the dweller buildings, picking up speed. They were nearing the Sludge River.
The OC women shouted for Lena to do something as Shamika kicked at Farica’s head. Shamika’s kicking yanked Lena forward onto her stomach. It took half of Horror’s strength just to stay inside the cabin.
“Rory!” Lena yelled, her hair flapping into her mouth.
Tears spattered off Shamika’s cheeks, and Lena couldn’t tell if it was from fear or pain, or the false Oubliette air rushing over her eyes.
“She’s going to fall.” Lena reached for the screaming baby girl.
Don’t you dare take her from me again.
Rory lifted a single, peachy palm from the jacket. Below, Farica grabbed higher onto Shamika’s backside. The head OC stared at Lena, a million thoughts in that look. There was no way she could be that selfish, no way she would hold onto her pride with the same stubbornness she held the child.
“Take her,” Shamika said.
Quickly, Lena released one of Shamika’s hands and grabbed Rory, tucking the baby into the crook of her free arm. The kid didn’t stop crying, but she felt so soft in Lena’s arm, safe, where she belonged.
They flew at least a hundred feet over the dark, winding curves of the Sludge. Farica pulled at Shamika’s shoulder. From behind, Sarah Pao pushed her way through and stretched an arm over Lena’s head.
Before Lena could tell her to get back, she said, “Eat this,” and fired.
It would have been bad enough if only one rang shot had flown from the gun, but what blasted into Farica’s head, torso, and across the Oubliette skyline, was a spectacular assortment of lights Lena hadn’t witnessed since her last Fourth of July on Earth. Energy balls of blue and orange scattered like shooting stars, and Farica fell in a heaping mess of spraying blood and splintered bone.
The airship shifted violently, causing Lena and Rory to slip farther out of the open door. Shamika raised her arm and extended the middle finger, grinning like crazy. Only then did Lena see the sharp piece of glass protruding from Shamika’s back, blood dripping down her jacket and flicking into the air. Before Lena could reach out for Shamika’s other hand, the head OC let go. Falling through the sky, Shamika never wavered from her smile until she sank into the Sludge far below.
The airship sped on and up, gaining altitude by the second. Neither Farica nor Shamika rose to the Sludge’s surface.
“You killed her,” one of the OC screamed, grabbing Sarah by the hair.
Sarah twisted and snapped her attacker’s arm in two moves, then kicked her square in the ass to send her out of the airship.
Lena shifted Rory to her other arm and raised her rang at the last two OC members. “I hope you sheilas aren’t going to start shit.”
They shook their heads and backed up as best they could.
“Good.” Lena lowered her rang. “Shamika let go of my hand to save Rory. I never thought she was like that, but you knew her better than I did. In any case, welcome to the Daughters of Forgotten Light.”
Lena shut the door. It became instantly stuffy inside the cabin, and too damn quiet.
“How do I get one of those badass rangs?” Hurley Girly pointed to Sarah.
Taylor harrumphed. “If you’d lost a hand first, you might have gotten that one.”
Sarah eyed Lena from her periphery. Something passed between them, not altogether unpleasant, but not the fuzzy warmth of best friends. An understanding.
Remember your promise, Pao, Lena thought.
“The Veil is right ahead of us,” Ava called from the cockpit.
“What’ll happen if the sensor doesn’t work?” Sarah asked.
“Don’t jinx this.” Dipity beat fingers against her lips.
Lena kissed Rory and patted her backside. Fuck. Shamika had the last of the manna juice. “We’re about to find out one way or the other.”
Pushing her way to the front, Lena looked through the cockpit’s glass. She didn’t see it at first, but slowly the green of the Veil grew brighter.
“Would you look at that,” Hurley Girly whispered.
No one moved. Lena didn’t think anyone even breathed. Ava pulled at the throttle and the force pushed every sheila a little farther back. Static erupted across the airship, then stars, billions of them. Ahead waited the Hole.
We’re doing it. We did it!
The others hooted and clapped, but Lena knew there was still a long way to go.
“Um.” Hurley Girly cleared her throat. “I was just wondering. What are we going to do when we get there. Back to Earth I mean.”
“I tell you what we need to do,” Dipity said. “We need to take out anyone who would try to send us back, or worse.”
They all nodded their heads.
Sarah reached over and tickled Rory’s chin. “We’re going to n
eed an overwhelming force to do that.”
“Hey,” Hurley Girly said, “We’ve got cyclones and rangs, plus your machine gun blaster.”
“We’ll need more than that,” Lena said.
“Where are we going to get more than this?” Hurley Girly waved a hand at the women and machines around them.
“The shipper port,” said Sarah.
The others groaned.
One of the dwellers said, “Fuck that” under her breath.
“The warden was keeping a lot of shippees behind,” Sarah said. “There were tons before I got shipped. If they haven’t killed them all, that’s who we need on our side.”
“Right into the lion’s den,” Ava said, pointing at buttons and controls for her own benefit. “I like it.”
Lena nodded. “I’m with Sarah on this.” She looked at the Hole, its gigantic white curves becoming larger the closer they flew. Lights and circuits lined the inside of the circle, something she never saw from Oubliette’s surface. “But I hope you ladies don’t mind if we make a quick stop before visiting our old friends at the shipping port. There’s someone else I need to see.”
Chapter 53
Dolfuse stumbled backwards. That sound. Sweet Kiss. Martin and the others were done wiping out Oubliette and they’d tracked her down somehow – taking care of any loose ends. Dolfuse would be damned if she’d let them get her.
She grabbed Renee Horowitz by the shoulders. “You have somewhere we can hide?”
“I… um…” She looked around her daughter’s room. “The shed.”
“You mean outside?”
“What the hell is going on?”
Dolfuse headed for the stairs. She could answer questions later, when she was certain a laser cannon wasn’t going to blow her apart. “We need to go. Now!”
The shed outside couldn’t keep out a draft much less the peering light of the attack ship, but approaching death didn’t give them anywhere else. By the time Renee shut them into the musty, cramped space of the Horowitz shed, dazzling white light stabbed through the multiple holes and cracks in the walls and roof.