Wisecraft stops, but remains standing. Did I miss? I didn’t hear the glass land. He folds his arm up to his neck and pulls the slice of glass out. As he does, ribbons of blood, black in the dim light of the Web, pour from a wide gash in his neck, staining his crisp white collar. He drops to his knees and tumbles over.
Here I stand, merely steps away from the man who destroyed everything. Now he lies on the floor dying. I did it. I killed him. And yet, that triumph that I so hoped for does not come. I don’t feel good about what I’ve done. Killing him does not bring Jansen or Nicron back. Or my brother. But then I think of Timber and all the others at Ceborec, who won’t have to worry about Edgar Wisecraft ever again.
A sliver of satisfaction touches me before I hear the distant humming of Enforcers’ boots pounding the floor. A place to hide. I must find a place to hide.
I glance down at Evie and Marcus. She is gently tracing the streaking scars on his abdomen, seemingly oblivious to what just happened. I’ll have to leave them for a minute to find a place for us.
I jog down the corridor, looking for a door, any door. After about a hundred yards I find one. The plate, which is hanging crookedly by a single screw, reads “109 Mountain Crossing.” It must be a private residence. I try turning the handle and pull, but, as expected, it’s locked from the inside. With the heavy din of the Enforcers getting closer I panic and kick the door repeatedly with no success. If only I had an explosive.
I stare back at Evie and Marcus and a wisp of hope creeps in. When Marcus explained the mission to me he said that each of the men would be outfitted with an explosive. That was how they were going to destroy the Trinity.
I sprint back to them, pick up Evie, and set her to the side. My hands probe Marcus’s belt and pockets. But I find nothing. The Enforcers must have taken away anything Marcus would have had on him. Unless he slipped it in his boot. I take them off, one at a time, and something clinks onto the ground. I pick up the small round device and exhale a sigh of satisfaction.
“Stay here, Evie. I’ll be right back.” The Enforcers are much closer now. Pretty soon they’ll find Wisecraft’s body and then us. I sprint back to the door, slam the suction side of the explosive just below the handle, and turn the dial to activate it.
The force of the explosion lifts me into the air before I can reach Marcus and Evie. I land on my stomach next to them, but with all the adrenaline coursing through me I could have landed on a pile of fluffy pillows. I’m back on my feet dragging Marcus. Evie runs beside me, coughing under the fabric of smoke.
The blast took off only half the door and part of the concrete wall, but we can get in. I just have to figure out a way to keep the Enforcers out. I lift Marcus carefully just under his shoulders and drag him over the rubble into a pitch-black bunker. A moan escapes his lips and I cry inside for his pain. I set him down and feel around until I find a set of stairs. At the top is a steel door, fitted into the floor above, just like the one at my old home.
“Auntie Pollen, where are you? I can’t see you,” Evie cries.
“I’m right here I say, propping the door open, letting the fading sunlight in. “Go upstairs and wait for me. I’ll get Marcus.”
Evie skips up the stairs and I tow Marcus, cringing with each step that jabs into his ribcage. It’s a good thing he’s not awake for this, but I hope I don’t lose him. I can’t lose him now. We’ve come too far.
Once we reach the top I glance around for something heavy to set on the door. We are in a kitchen, so grabbing one corner at a time, I slide the refrigerator over the steel door. That should keep them at bay for a while.
With a deep sigh, I take in my new surroundings. We are in a small log cabin. The kitchen opens into a breakfast nook and living room, complete with wicker furniture and an old wood-burning fireplace in the center of the room. One wall is completely glass, displaying a grassy yard and a magnificent view of the mountain. Behind the kitchen, adjacent to the living room is a bathroom and small bedroom with a queen sized bed.
Marcus’s body creates a darkened trail through the carpet of gray dust over the hardwood floor as I drag him to the sofa. Rather than lifting him and risking further injury, I lay the cushions on the floor and gently roll him on to them. In the broad daylight, his burns look so much worse. The worst of them are on his arms, where he must have used them to cover his face. His skin is raw and blistered, glistening blood and pus in the spots where the skin was burned off completely. Oh Marcus.
I find a cloth in the bathroom, but find the faucet dry when I try to wet it. I hope there’s a stream outside.
A hard thumping from the kitchen floor lets me know that the Enforcers have arrived. I peek into the kitchen to make sure they can’t get through. The refrigerator holds a dead weight over the door. It’ll take more than a few Enforcers to budge it.
Outside, the sun is beginning to set and as I step out into the yard, I’m nearly flattened by a force of wind coming from above. A helicopter is descending. What the—?
I dash into the house, lock all the doors and crouch by the sofa watching the flying giant land in the yard. The floor to ceiling windows vibrate from the pressure being exerted on them. I pray they don’t shatter.
I almost pass out from the sheer joy that sweeps over me when General Granby emerges from the helicopter. We’re saved.
Chapter 38
“I’m not leaving without him.”
The atrium is blistering with activity from every crevice. Soldiers preparing to line the perimeter and protect the skies overhead. Scientists packing last minute equipment for the flight. Others hustling from one end to the other running pissant errands in order to feel like they’re contributing. The center of the atrium no longer houses the shuttle, but an intricate tangle of steel columns and beams, which help to raise and hold the shuttle above ground.
Myra is completely frantic. Her perfectly composed demeanor that conveyed her so appropriately when we first met has long since crumbled in that past few weeks, while I stand firm and stronger than ever. There is no bending this time.
“We need to get this mission off the ground now,” she barks down at me. Her platinum hair is pulled out in shreds from her normally pristine ponytail. Her light blue button-up shirt stained with dark blue splotches of sweat. “If we wait for Marcus to heal it will be too late.”
“Then we don’t wait. Administer his treatment immediately and let him recover during the flight. If he doesn’t go, neither will I. Nor will our son.”
The moment we returned from being rescued, Marcus was taken instantly to the clinic, where they administered an osteogenic injection for his broken rib, antibiotics to prevent infection and intravenous fluids. They haven’t had time to do a skin graft yet, but he’s scheduled to undergo one as soon as possible—after the preparations for the shuttle launch have been completed. Evie was taken for observation and released under my care. She’s with Timber now.
“Pollen, you know we can’t do that. The procedure will take hours. Do you have any idea what will happen if that nuke is detonated? We need to lift off as soon as possible.”
“Then you don’t have me.” I cross my arms returning her icy stare.
Myra screams so loud people stop what they are doing to stare briefly. She’s acting like such a spoiled teenager. I never would have imagined she’d have it in her. She takes a few deep breaths, resting her palm against her brow, before starting again.
“Pollen. A nuclear explosion of that magnitude won’t just destroy us here. It will decimate the entire planet. Life as we know it will cease to exist. We, the human species, will be extinct. We have to get you, Evie, and your child on that shuttle. Now.”
“You want me on that shuttle?”
“Yes,” Myra says with the weight of a thousand semi trucks.
“Fix. Marcus. Once he’s on the shuttle I’ll board. Until then, I’m not going to discuss it.”
Myra shakes her head wildly as she storms away. I’m left wondering whether I’ve made th
e right decision to draw the line in the sand. I can bear the thought of dying as long as Marcus is by my side. But how can I be so selfish to deny my son the possibility of a life, a future, in a better place? The fact is, I hadn’t considered that option. I was so sure Myra would give in and allow Marcus on board. Now, all I can do is hope.
***
“Auntie Pollen!”
Evie leaps into my waiting arms, with Timber a short pace behind her.
“Dr. Sexy says Evie needs some short-term iron supplements for her anemia, but other than that she’s good to go.” Timber’s face has changed. She looks the same, but somehow she seems a decade older than she was a year ago. Tiny creases have developed on her forehead and between her eyebrows. I understand what it’s like to lose one person you’re in love with. I couldn’t bear losing two within a year. She’s so much stronger than I ever gave her credit for.
She lets me finish hugging Evie before she breaks the good news.
“Marcus is awake.”
***
Marcus looks like a slab of red meat in a butcher shop. His arms and chest are covered with a thick gel where the deepest burns are. The bullet hole in his shoulder has been sewn up, and his left ribcage is as black as the night sky. He should be writhing in pain, but Evie and I are greeted with the most gratifying smile.
I bow to kiss him as if I were kissing a newborn baby. He looks so fragile and hurt, I’m afraid even the weight of a feather might cause him more pain.
“You can do better than that,” he says, his voice hoarse and cracking.
“I will. As soon as you don’t look like a raw porterhouse.”
Marcus chuckles, but grimaces and soon stops.
“You’re in pain,” I say, brushing my hands through his hair, the only part of him I see safe to touch.
“I can handle it. Just don’t make me laugh too hard.”
“Uncle Marcus, when will you be better?” Evie stands slightly behind me, clutching my hand firmly under her tiny fingers.
“I don’t know Evie doll, but I’ll try to get better real quick for you.” Evie’s eyes light up and a smile spreads across her face.
“Evie, can you go with Timber for a minute while I speak to Marcus?”
Evie nods and skips out of the room, where Timber leans against the wall with her arms crossed, patiently waiting. She quietly shuts the door, leaving us to our privacy.
“I told them I won’t go,” I say, still watching Evie out the door.
“Why?”
“Because they won’t let you on in this condition.” Marcus remains silent for a moment. I don’t want him to be angry for my decision, but it’s mine to make. And besides, I’m still convinced that Myra will change her mind.
“You should go anyway. Take Evie and our boy. They need you more than me.”
“I’m not going anywhere without you, Marcus. I’d rather die than live in a world where you’re not there.” My hand brushes his cheek lightly, just as he’d always done with me. In an arduous display Marcus reaches his arm up and grasps my hand in his, wiping some of the jelly-like substance on the inside of my wrist. He holds my palm against his cheek, and then kisses it firmly.
“I don’t want to be without you either. But our son deserves a future. Evie deserves a future. I just don’t see how that’s possible if you don’t go. With or without me.”
“With you is the only way I’m going. I’ve made that perfectly clear to Myra. Even if they have to carry you in on a stretcher.”
“You’re so damn stubborn, Pollen.”
“If I weren’t, well, many things would be different right now.”
“That’s one of the many things I love about you. Your unyielding tenacity.”
Suddenly the door bursts open, nearly knocking me out of my shoes. Two of the doctors charge in with a trail of nurses behind them, suited up for surgery.
“You need to leave now, Miss McRae,” one of the doctors says behind his unmoving white mask.
“What’s going on?”
“We’ve been directed to begin the skin graft immediately. Please sit in the waiting room. We’ll let you know when we finish.”
Orla, the heavy-set nurse who often takes Timber’s place, begins to drag me toward the door, ripping my hand from Marcus’s.
“I love you,” I shout to him as the nurses and doctors crowd around his bed. From behind the human wall, his voice echoes back, “I love you, baby.”
***
A few hours later, Marcus is being wheeled out of the medical clinic, arms and chest encased in thick bandages. Under the blanket, his thighs are also bandaged from where they lifted skin for the graft. He’s just beginning to wake up, still groggy from the anesthetic.
With Evie in tow, I follow Dr. Yipolis and Orla as they take Marcus to the elevator to meet Myra. On the way, a redheaded tramp flings herself at the gurney.
“Oh my god, Marcus! What happened to you?!” I can’t believe Siera has the nerve to show her face around Marcus and me now. And then to give me the stink eye. I can’t say it is intentional as I’m sure it is a reflexive response when my hand twists in her hair and the other fist plunges into her nose. She shuffles back on her bottom, using her hand to stop the flow of blood dripping from her nostrils. Yes, I think she got the message.
Dr. Yipolis and Myra exchange a few words on Marcus’s condition before we board the elevator. As Myra turns, I see that she is holding my baby boy.
“Are we leaving now?”
“Yes, now.”
“Wait here,” I say. “I need to get something.”
Myra objects, but I ignore her and dash back to my room, or closet rather, where Marcus and I had stayed before the mission. I rummage through the only box I have and take a pile of letters. The letters I wrote to my parents and Drake, when I thought he was dead. I quickly scan Marcus’s belongings for anything of value. I take what looks to be a journal and dash back to the elevator where Myra, Dr. Yipolis, Marcus, and Evie are waiting for me.
The ride up is filled with an uncomfortable silence. Myra shifts her weight from side to side constantly, eager to get this over with. Dr. Yipolis leans against the wall of the elevator, staring into nothing, avoiding all eye contact. Marcus, still waking from the drugs, flutters his eyelids briefly before resting them closed. I hold my son in my arms for the first time, crouching down, with Evie by my side. It feels like I’m holding a loaf of bread. The most delicate, precious loaf of bread I can imagine. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And I haven’t even given him a name yet. His eyes are as blue as the clear sky used to be. A few more strands of hair begin to sheath his perfectly round head. He looks so much like Marcus. How could I have ever hated this child? How could I have even considered keeping him here on this desolate planet to die, or live a depressing life underground? He’s so perfect.
We finally reach the surface, squinting in the morning sun, which has just crested over the tops of the trees. The shuttle is even more magnificent, with sleek silver edges that seem to sparkle beneath the rusty haze in the air. While it stood vertical underground, it is now standing horizontal, somewhat like a jet, with wide wings that arc out like oblong pancakes. The fuselage is also wide, but narrow from top to bottom and angles down to a sharp point at the nose.
A crowd has gathered beneath the shuttle, staring in awe, pointing with transparent fascination. Granby breaks free from the crowd, with Marley following close behind.
“I’m glad to see you’ve worked things out,” he says, looking from me to Myra. “No word from Sage yet. This shuttle needs to lift off ASAP.”
“Do you think Sage is still alive?” I ask.
“Sage is a fighter. He won’t go down that easily. And he won’t come back until all three of them are confirmed dead. If what you said about Trident’s failsafe is accurate, you all need to leave now.”
“Wait a minute, you’re not coming?” A chill creeps up my spine. I’d always assumed that Granby would be part of the Earth mission. Now
I’m saddened at the thought of losing my second father.
“No. My place is here. I need to stay with our people. If we make it out of this alive, I’ll be on the next shuttle. I promise.” A tear escapes; a tear that I hadn’t even realized was there. Granby brushes it away with his thumb and cups my cheek.
“Pollen, you take that beautiful son of yours and start a new life. Forget about this place. Forget about me and the rest of us. We’re all depending on you. You and Marcus, your son, and little Evie. Do the job you were always meant to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“Be a good mother.”
I lean in to Granby as he squeezes me in a fatherly embrace, pressing my little boy gently between us. When he releases me he tilts my chin up to look at him, just like Glenn used to do.
“You can do this.” My only response is to nod. Somehow, having his confidence in me invokes a strength unlike any I’ve ever felt. Different from when I faced the fiery inferno in the Web. Different from when my life and Marcus’s life was actually threatened. My one true fear—a fear that I’ve spent years avoiding and denying—is being a mother. And now I finally feel like I can do this.
A light tapping on my shoulder pulls me away from Granby. It’s Timber and Harrison. Without saying a word, Timber grabs me and hugs me tightly.
“I love you,” she whispers, her breath tickling my earlobe.
“I love you too.”
Timber leans over and kisses my baby boy on the top of his head. He’s still sound asleep, but a gentle coo leaves his mouth as he stirs. “I love you too, little guy.”
“Don’t you dare think you are leaving without giving me any lovin’” Harrison declares with an impish grin. I hand my child to Timber, who tightens the blanket around him snugly and inhales his baby scent. As I put my arms around Harrison for a friendly hug he hoists me into the air, pressing my body firmly against him.
The Trinity Page 24