The Maddening: Book 2 in the Terror Saga

by Nicholas Head

  “I never said skip,” he snapped.

  “Skip,” she turned to him and glared, “up to the front door and politely knock. Wait for them to answer, request that we see Marisha, and then finally go on our merry way? Sound about right.”

  “Less the sarcastic wit, but yeah that about covers it.”

  “Yep, still sounds stupid.” Colleen crossed her arms and let out a dramatic exhale through her nose.

  “Attacking them now is just going to get us and her killed. We are outnumbered and outgunned. Our best option is to play it safe and hope they are reasonable.”

  “But, I have knives,” Colleen pulled out her blade from behind her back. With an effortless flick, she spun the perfectly balanced knife on her palm, “and I can get stabby-stabby if I need to.”

  “I remember. If it comes to that, you will be the first to get stabby-stabby. For now, let's just focus on my plan.” He tried to see if she was listening, as she nervously wrung her hands, You are far too chill right now to believe she's in any immediate danger, but we’ll be there first thing in the morning before they can try to do anything with her.”

  “Okay, but I’m still bringing a backup plan.”

  Lito rubbed his temples and mumbled under his breath, “We don’t need explosives. Plus, where would you have gotten any?”

  “You would be amazed what scavengers miss at a camping store.”

  The two of them maintained their view of the dome, taking shifts. Jackson curled up beside Colleen, and as usual, his warmth could settle an already riled up Colleen down. His peaceful breathing centering her. Even so, she slept terribly that night. Jackson was no substitute to the way she felt lying next to Marisha, the way her wavy, auburn hair smelled as it draped across her chest when she nuzzled into her neck. The feeling of their fingers interwoven after a long days' work, how just her touch would temporarily relieve crippling pain. Her heartbeat sped up just at the thought of her love; she needed Marisha back.

  Forty-One

  Marisha

  According to an old saying, the night is always blackest before dawn. This wasn’t something you could test, but as far as Marisha was concerned, that was also the worst time to wake someone up. Her body was usually in its most deep sleep and disturbing that would only throw kindling on her morning grumpiness, but she was already awake, just staring ahead, trying to fall back asleep.

  Footsteps approached—the heavy footfalls, anything but stealthy. She had only been here less than a day and already knew who it was by the amount of noise they made.

  The curtain to her room was pushed to the side, letting the fluorescent light seep in, further removing any chances of falling back to sleep.

  “Psst... psst... Marisha, are you awake?”

  “I am now,” hazily she replied.

  “Sorry,” he lowered his voice, but the damage had already been done. We are about to make an early morning trip to supplies and do some trading up in Vancouver.”

  “Okay, have fun,” she said as she rolled over, trying to get more comfortable.

  “I... uh... just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted last night, and I hope you can forgive me. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “It’s alright—I mean no, it’s not alright,” Marisha rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She tried to clear her throat, but it was dry and burned when she tried to swallow, feeling like it was on fire. Propping herself up on her elbows, she let out an enormous yawn, then cracked her neck and back. “I guess I’m up now.”

  “I didn’t mean to, I just...”

  “I get it, you want to clear your conscience, and that’s fair, but if it happens again, you might pull back a nub. I don’t know what you think we had in the past--”

  “We were best friends and--”

  “So, you say,” she snapped back. Her response was biting, as it seemed to have genuinely caught him off guard, “I’m trying to remember who I was, with the only pieces falling into place scaring the hell out of me. You wanting to fill those in isn’t what I’m looking for.”

  “We found you weak, scared, and crying out for help, and that’s what we did. Helped you. I’m sorry you don’t remember but just know that’s all it was, I promise.”

  Marisha never meant to cut that deep. Garrick was right, and his intentions felt pure enough, if not misguided. People on her side were what she needed right now and alienating more, no matter how easy, was not in her best interests. If she was going to fill in these blank spots, right here seemed like as good a place as any to start.

  There was one thing she had to address if she was going to set her mind at ease. She sat up and widely stretched her arms, nearly hitting him in the face.

  “Last night, when we were up on the roof, I had some sort of vision... No, a vision makes me sound like a crazy person. It was more than a vision. It was like an intense feeling I experienced throughout my entire body. It showed me things, things that—that scared me to death. I think it’s something I saw when I was here.”

  “Well, what did you see?” He bit his bottom lip.

  Marisha explained her vision, giving all the details she could remember, filling everything she thought could have been relevant. Garrick sat there, patiently listening, taking it all in, never flinching. When she finished up, the entire room felt like all someone had sucked the tension out. She could breathe again.

  “What do you think it all means?” Garrick finally asked.

  “I don’t think it’s something to interpret, it’s a memory, and you were there, and I’m almost certain you know what it means. So, do you?”

  She bore her eyes into him, not letting him avoid her gaze. Garrick sat down on the stool next to her bed and immediately squirmed as if his seat was on fire. His next few breaths were deep and intentional, as if preparing to bear bad news.

  “Right around the time you left, we had some people decide that following our basic rules weren’t for them. My brother gave them a choice, and they chose selfishness.”

  “That’s a rather tame explanation for all that build-up. It had to be more than that. Come on, spill it.”

  “When someone doesn’t want to abide by our, like I said, basic rules, they have to go. So, dad kicked them out.”

  “You’re still holding back on me, come on.” He looked away, and she pulled his chin back to the center.

  “I was getting there... The hard part? They had three kids, all under the age of ten.” Marisha gasped, her mouth agape. “Their mom? She was already too far gone with the terror, but the dad refused to work, to do anything to pull his weight.”

  “Couldn’t you all have... I don’t know, let the kids stay?” She leaned forward, her voice cracking.

  “No, they wouldn’t leave them, and we couldn’t make them. They knew in a year they wouldn’t be able to care for their kids anymore, but...”

  “And how does all this lead to this fight that I remember?”

  “Simple. You wanted me to change my brother’s mind. Something that doesn’t come easy, if ever. I wish that I could have. Things got heated, words were said, and... you left.”

  Garrick made a ball with his fist and put it up to his mouth, nodding his head. Marisha placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, attempting to offer some sort of comfort.

  “It was a hard choice, and I can’t say I envy either one of you. This world is too cruel as it is already, without garbage people taking kids down with them.”

  Garrick’s eyes softened and his shoulders slumped.

  “Hey, let me go with you all on your supply run. It’s the least I can do. I’d be more help there than here with a bunch of people who hate me.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You really should rest.”

  “I’ve rested enough. The only way any of this,” Marisha made frantic circles in the air next to her head, “is going to get resolved is to get out there and help.”

  Garrick’s head bounced back and forth as if tossing the suggestion around, “Deal, but only
on one condition, okay?”

  “Uh, no. You better name it first.” She cut her eyes, “I’m not about to agree to something without the details.”

  “Our first stop is to do some trading. It shouldn’t take long, but we have to stay out of the way.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Well, that, and if you can get ready in...3 minutes?”

  Garrick waited outside while Marisha threw on her clothes from last night. To her surprise, her jacket had already been cleaned and returned to her in a matter of hours. Things were far more efficient here than she would have expected. She was starting to think that maybe leaving wasn’t the best idea. Reconnecting with these people just might be the best thing for her.

  They sprinted to the theater, not even stopping to see if breakfast had been served. Bursting through the double doors in the rear, they could already see the group disappearing against the rising sun.

  It was a small group, traveling in a diamond formation. Seven, maybe eight people, but it was hard to be sure as they were still a ways off. As they got closer, she could see a trailer, but not the kind she was expecting. No, this was the back of an old truck bed, hitched to a horse, piled to the top with mountains of junk.

  Marisha pulled up short, noticing that Garrick had already fallen behind.

  “Come on,” she hollered, “Don’t tell me you are out of shape.”

  “No... I’m just... built for... long distances.”

  Marisha rolled her eyes, “Sure you are. Come on.”

  Jogging the rest of the way, they finally spotted the rear lookout, who was supposed to be watching the rear. Something welled up inside of her, almost animalistic. Marisha snuck up behind him and stealthily threw an arm around his neck, catching him off guard. With a swift, firm pressure to key vessels in the cradled neck, the man struggled for just a second before his knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

  His mouth fell open. “Where did you—”

  Marisha whomped a finger to her lips, cutting him off. She crouched down and stuck to the back of the wagon and tried to stay out of view. Garrick scurried up to join her, still out of breath.

  “We can’t leave him there.”

  “Don’t worry, he won't be out for long. The headache will last longer than he’s passed out.”

  “Where did you...who taught you all this?”

  Marisha peered around the corner without answering, noting the three people walking up on the front line. Quinn led the pack, and they all had their weapons tucked into waistbands. No one was on alert. Another three trailed behind in a straight line, unarmed and dressed like hard laborers, heads down and shoulders slack.

  With everyone's guard down, now would be the perfect time for a friendly sneak attack. She looked back to see the passed-out man was now sitting up, holding his head. That headache would only keep him down for so long. It was now or never.

  Walking only a hair quicker than everyone else, Marisha made her way up behind Quinn. The disheveled laborers only looked at her but didn’t react. She stood up and tried to wrap her arm around the leader's neck, but he was prepared. Quinn grabbed her forearm, pulling her off balance. Marisha stutter-stepped as she tried to regain her footing. It was too late. In one powerful motion, her body was tossed across his chest and down to the ground, leaving her gasping for air from the impact.

  “I was just—”

  Her chest heaved, and she coughed, spitting up dirt.

  He was on top of her, using one hand to pin her chest down, while he used his other one to unsheathe his knife. The muscular arm brought the knife down, but Marisha slapped it away with her forearm, causing him to scream out in pain. The knife went flying, landing only a few feet away. She reached out to grab it, her fingers coming up inches short.

  “Stop!” Garrick yelled, pulling both of their concentration, stopping the fight. "What the heck was all that about?”

  “Marisha?” Quinn said, finally able to recognize his attacker. “What do you think you were doing? I could have killed you.”

  “I had it handled. I just let you think you had the upper hand.”

  Quinn gathered himself and stood up, then offered a hand to Marisha. Hesitantly, she took it, fearing he might try to retaliate. Her heart was still pumping hard from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She put her hand over her chest as if this could slow the overtaxed muscle down.

  “I ask again, what do you think you were doing? That was stupid.”

  “I see you were ready but, your other guys, not so much.”

  Everyone looked back, seeing the man who had been choked out, running, stumbling up to meet them. Everyone else stood around, looking on as the silent group of three stared blankly ahead.

  She finally got a decent look at them, two women who couldn’t be over seventeen or eighteen, rail-thin with messy hair, and open sores on their hands, and a thin, distressed man. He may not have been much older, but his face displayed a map of deep age lines. His skin tanned and scattered with pale blotches.

  “I take what I can get, but they are loyal,” He said, still breathing heavily, “and that’s certainly worth a lot. I can’t say I expected to see both of you. I’m used to Garrick showing up late.”

  “We just wanted to help. I figured you could use an extra hand.” She mimicked dusting her hands off, “ and after seeing how these guys held up to little old me, I’m glad I did.”

  “We’ll be fine, and thanks for the exercise in preparation.” He tried to hide a sneer as his fingers curled.

  Marisha looked back at the group again; they had been attacked, and not a single reaction from any of them. They were either indifferent or scared, but the latter seemed most likely. Each person’s eye’s starred off somewhere distant.

  “You seem to have your hands full, and I look to have discovered some long-hidden talents I don’t remember learning so...lucky you!”

  “We’ll be fine."

  “By the way, who are these people?” she said, wrapping an arm around the shoulders of the shortest girl, “They sure are quiet.”

  Quinn’s countenance stiffened, possibly losing the taste for snarky banter. “I think we’ve got it covered, though. It’s going to be a longer trip than usual for us. You should run back to the museum. I’m sure your talents can be more readily used there?”

  “I’d rather not—”

  His face formed into a scowl, cutting his eyes to Garrick, “I said, we... are... fine.”

  Marisha cut in between the two brothers, “But you aren’t. You nearly lost your leader, one on one. Maybe you’ll survive a one-on-one attack or even one-on-two, but you’ll quickly get overwhelmed. I promise to stay out of your way and pull my own weight. Plus, I don’t want to go back to the museum. Whatever memories were coming back to me in that building weren’t exactly good ones. You need me. Oh, and not taking no for answer.”

  “Let me consult my men, and the hired hands.”

  Quinn motioned for his men to gather around so they could talk. His face changed several times, quickly going from angry to resigned. He interlocked his fingers, stretched, then let out a frustrated grunt. Making his way back to Marisha, Quinn pulled one worker close and whispered something in their ear. Their eyes went wide, and their breathing quickened, as none of them would look at her.

  “You can come, but only if you can keep your word on everything you said you would do. We move quickly and will look to cover more than twenty miles a day; Vancouver isn’t a quick trip. You good with all this?”

  “Good and dandy. Let’s go.”

  “Oh, and one more thing, these folks,” he said, motioning to the still silent group, “are on a kind of work release program. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk to them anymore.

  Forty-Two

  Colleen

  All it took was the slightest bit of warmth on the back of her neck for Colleen to stir. She sat bolt upright and looked around, nearly forgetting where she was. She couldn't believe she had fallen asleep. She slapped
her forehead in frustration. What if she was already gone?

  Her body yelled out, letting her know it wasn’t in the least bit happy after having hundreds of jagged rocks pressed into her skin all night long. Her joints now cold and stiff, every movement bringing up another spot she hurt. As soon as she tried to stand up, she felt like someone was squeezing her bladder. This must be what it felt like to have a tiny human trying to make a home inside of her.

  Colleen looked over to the snoring mass and gave Lito a rough shove, trying to wake him. An incoherent mumble was all he offered and then rolled back over. She pushed again, this time with more power behind it, finally gaining his attention.

  “What gives,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He let out a huge yawn and brought his watch up to his face, checking the battered solar-powered timepiece. “The sun's not even up. Can’t it wait?”

  “Because you said we could go get Marisha, and we need to go now.”

  “Well, if you were watching all night and you didn’t see her go anywhere, then we are fine. There’s no reason to get in a hurry then.”

  “Please,” Colleen tried to hide the worry, but she already knew he could tell by the look on her face she hadn’t made it the whole night.

  “Alright, let me get dressed. You get Jackson on a leash just in case they get skittish around dogs. I can’t see anyone being afraid of him, but weirder things have happened."

  “Make it quick. I’ve got to go use the little girls' spot, and then I’m ready.”

  They rolled up beds and stomped out the fire, trying to leave the camp close to how they have found it. Colleen was already ten steps ahead and in the museum's direction before Lito had even started.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa...hold on. We just can’t go running up there without a plan.”