The Trinity

Home > Other > The Trinity > Page 14
The Trinity Page 14

by Daelynn Quinn


  “As you know, our request is simple and once fulfilled you may go about your business however you please. We only ask that you hand over Pollen McRae and her unborn child. In return we will release Evie McRae into your custody and will no longer pose a threat to your . . . peaceful community. The exchange will take place at the port of New Orien. You have one week to comply. Then you will be at our mercy.” The video fizzles out and the screen goes black.

  My eyes burn when the overhead lights brighten and Granby returns to stand at the head of the table. He leans forward on his hands and focuses on each face before he speaks.

  “Thoughts?”

  “I’ll go,” I announce without hesitation, drawing all eyes on me.

  “No.” Myra asserts.

  “Out of the question,” Granby adds.

  “Why?” I demand. “I don’t want to be the cause of everyone’s suffering. I don’t want to cause more death. I just want Evie to be safe. And if that means sacrificing myself, I’m willing to do it.” A picture of Marcus flashes into my mind for a split second, almost too quickly to acknowledge it. But I do. “I want to do it.”

  “Yes, but it’s not just you they want Pollen,” Myra interrupts. “In fact, you are no more than a vessel to them. They want your son. They don’t know he’s already been born. Sending you alone would be futile.

  “I can understand your willingness to risk your own life,” Myra continues in a more motherly tone. “But are you really ready to sacrifice your own son?”

  I can feel the heat of my blood rushing to my face. I’ve already lost one son. I won’t risk losing another. “No,” I whisper, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

  “So the question is,” Granby says, pushing himself off the table and pacing back and forth. “What is our next move?”

  “We could set up a sting operation,” Sage suggests. “Send some sharpshooters to the port a day before the drop-off. We’ll take down the Trinity there.”

  Granby shakes his head while he stares down at the floor. “They wouldn’t be stupid enough to show up themselves. They’ll send a platoon of Enforcers. And that’d put the child in danger, assuming they’d even bring Evie. No, we need to locate the Trinity’s hideout. We still don’t know their exact location. Can we send a group of spies to seek them out? Anyone who may be expendable?”

  “Yes, I’ll look into it,” Sage replies.

  We sit around the table for at least another couple of hours, discussing strategies, defense, and possible motives. By the time the meeting is adjourned we’ve come no closer to a response than before the meeting began. Well, at least they haven’t.

  I, on the other hand, have made my decision. I’m going to get Evie back, with or without their approval. And I won’t do it alone.

  Chapter 22

  “Drake, we need to talk.”

  No beating around the bush. No more delaying the inevitable. It’s time to get down to business. I won’t hold off any longer.

  “Hmm?”

  Drake’s body is stretched across the couch tangled in a raggedy wool blanket. Two boxes are stacked against the wall next to the front door. He must have worn himself out helping the others move; he hasn’t even moved our meager possessions yet.

  “Drake, wake up.”

  I shove his legs off the couch to make room for myself and he jolts up as if I’d just thrown a jug of hot coffee on him.

  “What? What’s going on?” He is immediately alert—eyes perfect spheres about to pop out of his face, muscles tensed and bulging, even the air is thick around him, almost too thick to penetrate. All those years in the North Cythera army probably had him trained to be ready at a moment’s notice.

  “Drake,” I say, inching closer to him. I keep my voice low, as if someone else were in the room listening in, though I know we’re alone. “I know how we can get Evie back. But I need you to trust me.”

  “How?”

  I explain the video at the committee meeting and my plan to sacrifice myself, despite the committee’s refusal to allow it.

  “No. Pollen, I’m not going to let you do that.”

  “Why? Don’t you want Evie?”

  Drake leaps up from the couch and paces the floor with heavy footsteps.

  “Of course I do! But I’m not going to trade my sister for my daughter. Pollen, they did some weird shit to me and they’ll do it to you too. The only reason I am risking Evie right now is because she’s a child and I carry the hope that they won’t do that to her. There’s got to be another way.”

  “And I saw what they did to her when we were at Crimson. All the blood they took. They practically drained her dry.”

  “Taking blood is a paper cut compared to the jacked-up shit they did to me.”

  “What did they do?”

  “Besides beat me, burn me, and cut scars into every inch of flesh on my body? Plenty. I was their own personal lab rat.”

  “You mean it wasn’t just about torture?”

  “Oh, there was torture. Plenty of it. But they took a lot of blood too. Injected all kinds of shit into me. Shit that burned, shit that sent electronic jolts through my limbs, shit that gave me the worst cracking headache for days. If my hands had been loose, I’d have ripped my own head off.” Drake stops at the wall, thumping his fist against it in anger. Then he turns back to me, his face grief stricken. “They won’t do that to a four-year-old. They can’t be that evil. Can they?”

  “I hope you’re right. But I’m not backing down.”

  Drake comes back to face me and squeezes my shoulders. “Pollen, I’m the head of our family now. It’s my job to protect you. It’s what mom and dad would’ve expected. Anyway, what kind of brother would let his sister run straight into the arms of those demons?”

  “Drake, if they attack Ceborec—and they will—I might die anyway. You can’t protect me forever. I want to do this.”

  Drake turns and stares at the evening darkness lurking beyond the window. Silence. I keep my body still; I don’t want to interrupt his contemplation.

  “Do you even know where they are? Evie? The Trinity?” His eyes remain focused on the black night outside.

  “No. On the video they specified a meeting point where the exchange would take place.”

  “If we could plant a tracker on you, this might work. You know anyone in engineering that can give us one?”

  “Used to. She was a traitor and banished months ago. And I don’t really know Curtis that well. Anyway, why would they just hand over a tracker? They’re going to want to know why we need it.”

  “That’s it! It’s so obvious. I’ll talk to Granby. Why was he keeping you under lock and key before?”

  “Because the Trinity wants me of course.”

  “And bounty hunters are motivated to trap you. Not to mention you’re still a flight risk. I’ll tell Granby you need the added protection of a tracker.”

  “If you tell him that he’ll just have me watched again. It won’t work. I can’t escape if I have a babysitter.”

  “You can if the babysitter is me.”

  ***

  I lie in bed chasing sleep but can’t seem to inch any closer to it. Every time I feel it within my grasp it slips through my fingers like fine white beach sand. Images of Respa’s corpse are imprinted behind my eyelids, forcing me to keep them open. My mind is racing with thoughts of our plan to rescue Evie. Drake of course is planning to rescue me as well, after Evie is safe, but that’s the least of my concern.

  Somehow my thoughts stray from the details of my dangerous mission and lead to Marcus. I wonder what he is doing right now. Has he regained any memories yet? Has he rekindled his romance with Siera? Does he even think of me anymore? A lone tear escapes my eye and trickles down my cheek, spreading out into a dark circle on the pillowcase beneath me. I smear the path away from my face, determined to rebuild my emotional guard. I’ll have plenty of time to cry when I’m in the Trinity’s possession. Until then, I vow to remain strong. For Evie. And my son.

 
My son. Who will care for him when I’m gone? My first choice would be Marcus, obviously. But he’s different now. He may not be willing to step up unless he knows for sure that he’s the father, which is, let’s face it, highly unlikely. Glenn would be more than willing to take our child under his wing, but he’d have to stop drinking. And who would stop him if I were gone? No, with me gone, Glenn would plummet into a bottomless vortex of self-destruction. He can’t be the responsible father he’d need to be. Drake would certainly do it. And Timber would be my first choice of a replacement mother. I’ll be sure to tell Drake and Timber first thing in the morning.

  I can’t take it anymore. Lying here alone in the dark, with sleep a distant star on the horizon, is doing nothing but bringing me misery. I have to do something, get my mind away from these grim thoughts until I’m too exhausted to do anything but sleep.

  After getting dressed, I gingerly tiptoe past Drake’s snoring figure on the couch and sneak out the door. It squeals slightly in protest, but not enough to wake him.

  I want to check on Glenn. I haven’t seen him since I dropped him at the medical clinic. I’m sure he’s okay, but I want to see him anyway. I hope he’s not at The Snake Hole.

  I fist my hand and gently tap his door. I wait. After a few seconds I knock harder, in case he’s sleeping, but there’s still no answer. Why did I even bother? I knew he wouldn’t be here.

  The Snake Hole is quieter than usual tonight. At least half of the residents are already moved in to the new bunker. The rest are probably taking an early night to prepare for the move tomorrow. Glenn sits alone at the bar, a few lonely others sip their tonics at neighboring tables. From my point of view, one wouldn’t be able to tell Glenn is injured, apart from the bloody hole in his shirt. He hasn’t even been back to his room to change yet.

  “How did I know you’d be here?” I give Glenn a gentle smile.

  “Hey Polly, just medicating myself,” he says, raising a glass of spirits the color of maple syrup. I crinkle my nose at the awful smell. “Can I order you a drink?” I can’t be angry with Glenn now. Let him drink himself into oblivion if he wants to. This may be my last chance to speak with him before I leave. And for all I know I may not come back. This may be our final goodbye.

  “Just one.”

  I slurp down my beer like it’s honey and water. When he offers another I decline.

  “Glenn, come with me.”

  Glenn leaves his half-full glass and strolls with me down the corridor to the elevator. I’m glad to find his gait still somewhat sober, with a few foot drags here and there.

  “Let me guess, you’re taking me home? I haven’t had that much to drink, have I?”

  “No, I’m not taking you home. I want to see the moon.” A few months ago, before Glenn was shipped off on his mission to Crimson and I was kidnapped, he took me above ground at night to sit on the hillside and watch the moon and stars. It was still summer, and we were not permitted to roam above ground because of the high temperatures, but he found a way. Something about that night stuck with me, and I want to share it with him again before I lose my chance.

  The air is comfortably warm and a light breeze hugs our bodies. The haze in the sky blurs the moon like a light behind frosted glass and the stars are invisible behind the curtain. But it’s peaceful. This is what I need. For the first time today, I feel relaxed.

  “Sorry, I didn’t think to grab a blanket.” The grass is still damp from the rain earlier today.

  “I don’t mind,” Glenn says as he sits and lies back on the grass, his hands clasped behind his head. I fall down next to him. For several minutes we lie there in silence, absorbing each other’s energy, enjoying the warmth of the night.

  “So why did you want to come up here?” Glenn asks.

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “Really? After all that happened today I thought you’d crash as soon as you hit the bed. You did run the perimeter in record time.”

  “Yeah, well, I keep thinking about Respa.”

  Glenn sits up and clasps my shoulder with his good arm. “You did what you had to, Polly. Don’t blame yourself for defending me.”

  “I’m not. I mean, I am, but . . .” I can’t even find the words. “I didn’t mean to kill her. I thought I would just stun her . . . with the paint, you know?”

  “Yeah, how did you get those bullets anyway?”

  “Harrison. He was looking out for me.”

  Glenn nods, staring up into the hazy night sky.

  “Good guy, Harrison. Remind me to get him a drink next time we’re at the Hole.”

  Glenn continues to stare up at the sky, squinting as if he’s trying to cut a hole through the film and search out a very special star.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask. For a moment I think he is not going to answer. But then he speaks, softly, like he’s halfway between sleep and wakefulness.

  “Polly, what do you miss most?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “From before the virus. What part of your life do you wish you had back?”

  I think for a minute before answering. “My mom and dad. I never realized how much I took them for granted before all of this. Yeah, they did things that pissed me off. And they hated you.”

  “For good reasons.” Glenn snickers.

  “If they were here now, they’d be proud of you—the way you’ve turned yourself around. But despite the things I hated about them, they were good parents. They never missed a track meet. Always brought flowers to my school plays. They were the most supportive parents a child could have. I loved them and I didn’t even acknowledge it.”

  Glenn brushes his thumb against my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn’t realized escaped.

  “What about you? What do you miss most?”

  “This,” Glenn answers abruptly. His hand drops to mine and he holds it snugly. “Being with you.” Suddenly his hand leaves mine and he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Sorry.”

  “Glenn,” I say turning to him. I yank his arm out from its entanglement and entwine my fingers in his. He looks at me painfully, and looks away with irritation. “I need you to know something.”

  How do I do this? I can’t tell him my plan to rescue Evie—of course he’ll do everything in his power to stop me. But I need him to know how I feel before I leave. It’s why I brought him up here in the first place. I need to give him one last chance to fix himself so he can be a father to our son in my absence. How can I tell him I’m leaving without raising suspicions?

  “If anything should happen to me—”

  “Polly, nothing will happen to you. I won’t let it. You know that.”

  “Yes, I know.” Okay, bad angle to start with. Maybe I should just say it without any ominous predictions. “Glenn, you mean so much to me. More than you’ll ever know. Just because I can’t be with you doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do. I always have and I always will.”

  Glenn rips his hand out of mine viciously and stands. I reflexively pull back, a strange sense of fear washing over me in response to his action.

  “You don’t get to do that, Pollen!”

  “What?”

  “I can’t do this anymore,” Glenn growls under his breath, shaking his head.

  “What’s wrong, Glenn?”

  I stand up to join him and he grabs my shoulders, pinching them together. He winces at the pain in his own shoulder.

  “I can’t be with you. I can’t be near you. Can’t you see that you’re killing me? You say you love me, but you won’t actually love me. You tease me and tempt me and then leave me. Over and over again. Don’t you see, Pollen? Why I’ve been drinking so damn much? It’s you! Pollen I can’t do this. I can’t just be your friend. Not while I’m still in love with you.”

  He’s stunned me into silence. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting.

  “Glenn, I never meant to hurt you.” The words come out under my breath, as I still struggle to find my voice.

  “Yeah, wel
l you did. And you know what? I deserved it. I deserved every last bit of sadistic torment you’ve inflicted on me.” He coughs out a sardonic chuckle. “You know, I never thought it was possible to love someone and hate them at the same time. But it is. I love you more than life itself. But I hate you too. I hate you because I can’t have you.”

  Why is he doing this? Why is he saying these hateful words when all I want to do is tell him how much I care about him? Did he bury the monster all this time only to dig it back up? Is his darker side finally becoming unleashed?

  “So that’s it, is it?” I bark back at him. “You can’t have what you want, so you throw a tantrum like a three-year-old? Grow up, Glenn! This is life. You lost me a year ago. You did that all by yourself. You’ve known all this time our relationship was over. If you’ve held on to the hope that I would change my mind that’s your own damn fault! I’ve made it clear time and time again that I won’t be with you again. That I’m in love with somebody else.”

  “And yet you still keep coming back to me. If you’re so set on being with Marcus, why aren’t you with him now? Why aren’t you fighting for him?”

  The words hit me dead on like a wrecking ball. An explosion erupts somewhere deep in my gut and my emotional barrier collapses. I clench my fists and my limbs tremble in a feeble attempt to keep it contained. I shove past him, my pride taking over. I don’t want him to see me cry.

  I race into the building, and punch the button for the elevator, whipping my head around, expecting to see him trailing me. Surely he would have followed me back in. He didn’t. He really has given up on me. Two friends lost in one day.

  Chapter 23

  After our morning training session, Granby has granted all the soldiers the afternoon off in order to get our possessions moved into the new underground facility and situated. Drake and I make the long trek carrying our boxes, which contain nothing more than the necessities: some clothing, a toothbrush, and personal keepsakes. In my box I carry the ultrasound of my son; the one I got the day I brought Marcus with me to view it. It still has blurry splotches, reminders of the tears I cried on it after Marcus left me on our wedding day. I also brought a picture that Evie drew. Three stick figures: a tall one with burgundy hair, a medium one with long amber brown hair and an inflated tummy, and a short one with light caramel hair and a pink princess skirt. It was a picture of our family at the time: Marcus, Evie, and me.

 

‹ Prev