Remnant

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Remnant Page 26

by Michael Clements


  Seth could hear the other respond. “What about it?”

  “I saw them too. Where'd they go? They were just up ahead,” said a third voice.

  Rachel's heaving breath would give them away. Seth slowed his own, while first gently covering Rachel's mouth then applying pressure so as to not alarm her. The three Seth was expecting were actually four, he saw as they walked by. They stopped a few steps too far, but then started to look for them. “Why are we looking for some couple holdin' hands?” asked the second voice. The third responded saying, “They were right here, I swear!” The second sighed; “Okay, just ignore me, then,” he said.

  “Shh!” said one of them. It grew eerie as the group quieted down.

  It was obvious that Seth had to move before they were seen. Since the group was just up ahead, Seth was able to quietly sneak along the hedge until finding an opening. Rachel was easily cooperative, though still not fully attentive. They stepped back onto the sidewalk. The group did not seem to suspect he and Rachel disappeared, because the group continued to search for them. “We lost 'em,” he whispered to Rachel.

  “Deh-D... Do you... know, where we are?”

  “We're close, don't worry. Honestly, I don't know what to do once we get there. I'll have to sneak you back in to your father's place.” Rachel breathed relief as her way of showing agreement.

  From that point on, the blocks were getting shorter, and familiar. They were close for sure. The further ahead they got, the more disturbance he heard coming from that direction. Is that coming from home? he thought. What's happening now? Rachel began to falter, and Seth had to hoist her up again. “Stay with me,” he whispered. Fear came over him, more with each step.

  Finally, he saw their building, and what seemed to be campfire light shining out the opening from the gate. The commotion was truly coming from there, and it was of angry voices arguing with each other. Seth brought Rachel close to the gate, but just far enough away to stay clear if something went wrong. He decided to set her down against the wall so that he could see the activity first.

  “You're always bitching, Kent,” said Isaac's distinct voice, calm and apathetic as always.

  “All right, then. Answer my question, if you can,” Kent retorted.

  “He doesn't answer to you,” Daniel defended.

  “Why does someone disappear every night the scouts leave?” Kent sounded highly irritated needing to repeat himself.

  Seth figured as much, that the people would still be restless after the raid from last night. Nobody calms down that fast, he thought. The people were not going back to their suites any time soon, Seth realized. I can't sneak through that... Perhaps it was the best time, or perhaps it was the worst, but something inside him told him he needed to bring Rachel in at that moment.

  He returned to her, brushing her wild hair back so he could talk to her face-to-face. “I'm taking you in there, okay?” Rachel was attentive enough, he could see. She heard the commotion too, and she seemed prepared for it. “Isaac's gonna lose everything he's got for this,” he said mostly to himself. He lifted Rachel up and started to walk her over, but she let go and tried to walk alone.

  They stepped up to the gate. The guard acknowledged Seth, but appeared surprised to see that woman with him. Is he in on it too? Seth asked himself at the keeper's hesitation. It seemed not, though, when the man pulled out his key and unlocked the gate.

  Isaac was the last one to speak, but his words were cut short when the sliding metal caught his attention, and thus everyone else's. For the first time Seth had ever seen, Isaac was at a loss for words.

  “Is Glen here?” said Seth. An older man pushed his way through the crowd, around the fire pit, and straight into his daughter's arms.

  Seth glared at Isaac as he walked up to them, Daniel by his side. “Back off,” he said as he pulled his gun, aiming it straight at Isaac's forehead. “I'd be happy to explain who this is, unless you want to.”

  Isaac did not grin. Another first. His overconfidence was absent for once. “Nah, Seth,” he said after considerable silence. “Feel free. Tell them what you think you know.”

  It was Glen who spoke. “You took my daughter... Why?”

  Kent stepped out from the crowd toward them. Seth tried to find Mercy among them, but she was nowhere. Ethan, much more to his surprise than anything, remained where he was. “A hostage?” said Kent. “That's where they've been.”

  Isaac turned around to face all the people of his shelter. “Yes!” he exclaimed. “Two months ago, I had Rachel taken. Yes, Glen, your precious daughter. They took her, I got my share, with royalties.” Seth began to shake with rage. “Rachel isn't the only one. There have been several over the past several months. Sometimes I had to kill certain men just to make it less obvious. I took these women, and I sold them. I sold them to a lot of people. Most of whom wanted me dead; wanted you all dead. I sold them to keep them occupied and satisfied. I sold many of the woman who came here to my shelter to feed myself, and my men.”

  Isaac looked at Rachel, taking pause at the sight of her ruggedness. “Rachel,” he said, “though she was a bit old, I sold to a brothel that's only a couple blocks away. That brothel paid me the best.” He turned toward the people again. “This is the world we live in now! This is how we survive. Someone has to do it. I did what it took to survive. I made sacrifices, and I have no regrets.”

  What have I done? Seth's anger momentarily subsided as he began to ponder how he had served Isaac so faithfully for so long, only to learn. Worst of all, he justified everything, even now, to everyone's face.

  Glen was weeping, and his daughter with him. “You monster!” Glen screamed. “If you had a child, you would have never-”

  “I did have a child, Glen,” said Isaac. His confidence was returning. “A son. And I watched my son die in my arms twenty years ago when he was only three. He strangled himself with a window shade string. His life was over; just like that. My wife blamed me, then left me. I have been there, Glen. I have wondered what I could have done to save him, but in the end, we're all such fragile creatures. I didn't strangle myself with a string. Every decision I've made has kept me alive, otherwise I wouldn't be. Some of us survive, some of us don't. Your daughter is a good person, but I needed her... We all needed her, just to survive a little longer. Remember what happened last night? Now imagine that, but against numbers two or three times what last night was. That could have been every single night you've all been here.”

  Kent turned slightly to face most of the crowd. “This is who we've chosen to protect us. He's only used us for his own gain. Let's change that.” Some were nodding, some were cheering, but all in all, the people agreed.

  “Is that how it is?” said Isaac. “...Very well, then.”

  Isaac held up a hand to Daniel, who then shouted, “Waste 'em!”

  Kent was the first to get shot, and nearly all of Isaac's men contributed to that. The people scattered, some running straight for Isaac and his men, some trying to run away. Seth was quickly targeted after Kent, as was Glen, but he hit the ground at the same time the advancing mob rushed them. They shot at Seth, but missed horribly. He heard Glen cry in agony; as a much closer target, he was easy to pelt with several rounds. As the people rushed Isaac's men, who were mowing them down with their rifles, the numbers seemed matched. Seth seized the opportunity to find Mercy.

  Remembering he had not seen her in the crowd, he assumed she was toward the back, or even at her apartment. He crept low, keeping as far from the shots as possible, headed for the west wing. A moment before entering the building, there she was, sitting next to the door. She was not moving, but still alive. “Mercy...” She looked at him. “It's me.”

  What's wrong with her? He saw tears in her eyes as they both bore witness to the slaughter taking place. Isaac was retreating through the gate with bodyguards, and strangely Daniel was still with the hostiles in the courtyard. Daniel ordered men to deal with all the remaining residents hiding in their apartments. Where's Eth
an? he thought. The man was the primary person he sought to avoid. Hiding probably. Coward!

  Mercy quickly rose to her feet. Seth saw her spot Glen in the courtyard, screaming his name as she ran toward him. “No!” he cried to her. “You'll get shot!” He wanted to save her, but questioned the decision. She made it all the way to Glen, who was right in the center of the chaos. A few feet back was his daughter, dead, with a bullet lodged in her head, and part of her neck blown off. Glen had been shot in four different places. Still, he tried to survive.

  That was when Ethan emerged from the east wing. He ran straight for Mercy as if he had been hunting her the whole time. Mercy was trying to lift Glen to his feet and help him walk out the gate. He was bleeding profusely. By the time Ethan caught up to them, he forced Mercy's hand away. With a quick draw of his blade, he saw Ethan stab Glen in the throat without hesitation, then swiftly swiping it out. As Mercy screamed in horror, Ethan proceeded to force her toward the gate. Seth took action at last.

  For once he could not hear the impact of bullets nor the exploding gunpowder from the multitude of guns. He only heard Mercy's cries. “Let her go!” he shouted, preparing to strike Ethan from behind. Ethan simply turned around, extended his foot, and redirected the momentum of Seth's sprint to the side. Seth fell flat on his face. Ethan ignored him after that, grabbing Mercy before she returned to Glen, and continuing to drag her toward the gate.

  Seth rose, and charged at Ethan again. His target dodged his punch as if predicting it precisely. Ethan moved to counter, but Seth stepped back. “She's not going with you!” he shouted. The three of them kept crouched as the battle raged around them.

  Mercy lifted her head up. She struggled to break free as she shouted, “I see James and Candace!” Somehow that convinced Ethan to let her go. He followed her, though, and Seth chased after him. Ethan turned once more, and with ease, knuckled Seth in the sternum, knocking him flat to the ground writhing in pain.

  They both heard Daniel's voice. “They're escaping through the gate! Get on it!” Ethan immediately averted his attention to Daniel, who had been standing alone while barking orders. Daniel saw Ethan approach, but did not react until it was too late. Ethan was already beating him to the ground, and once Daniel was down, Ethan pulled his knife and stabbed Daniel three times in the heart. He fled after Mercy, leaving the blade inside Daniel.

  Seth made absolutely sure that he kept his rifle with him. He crawled agonizingly the rest of the way to the gate and around the one gatekeeper that the fleeing residents had already trampled to death. Though he had been struck hard in a tremendously weak spot, he was not crippled, and after a few moments, he was able to rise again. He never took his eyes off Ethan, and he limped in that direction. Mercy had fled east with James and Candace.

  Seth found them hidden around a corner two blocks away from the shelter. “Stop!” he said as Mercy aimed her pistol at him when he came to them. “It's just me!”

  Mercy dropped her arms, stumbling back against the wall. James was holding Candace closely while keeping an eye out for whatever might appear from around the corner. Seth looked out. He could still hear the people scream. They saw their loved ones die in front of them before they were shot, themselves. Isaac's men were now bleeding out from the gate, shooting at everyone who got away. They won..., he lividly admitted to himself.

  Everyone rested for a moment, including Ethan. For a while, there was nothing to say. Seth felt it would be indecent to speak until the city quieted down again, if that were to happen any time shortly.

  “They're all dead...” said Candace. “He didn't even care.” James held her more closely as she began to cry. She was quiet; only her sniffling could be heard.

  Seth gathered the remainder of his strength, shooting to his feet and aiming his rifle directly at Ethan. “You need to leave.”

  “Excuse me?” said Ethan.

  “I saw what you did. I've seen what you do. You murdered Glen in cold blood; an innocent old man who never wronged anyone.”

  “No one is without sin,” said Ethan. “Right, James?”

  Seth heard no response from James. He didn't care. “You tried to abduct Mercy again. Whatever you want from her...,” he bit his lip to keep composure, “I don't know and I don't care. You're staying away from her from now on.” He hesitated. “Okay?”

  Ethan slowly stood. “I don't need a weapon to kill you, Seth.”

  “I'll shoot you, Ethan. I swear to God.”

  “You, on the other hand... You couldn't kill anyone, even with that gun.”

  Seth tightened his hold. “Don't make me-”

  Ethan snatched the weapon while Seth was distracted talking. He turned the gun around and was now the one aiming it at Seth's face. “Make you what?” At that moment, Seth was certain Ethan would shoot him.

  “Stop!” Mercy shouted. Ethan slowly lowered the gun. He, shockingly, handed it back to Seth. “Leave, Ethan,” Mercy said almost too softly to hear. Ethan looked at her with surprise, in a slight, Ethan sort-of-way. Seth thought Ethan was about to say something, but Mercy repeated herself, ever more quietly. “Leave.”

  Ethan looked at Seth. “Think you can protect them?” he asked rhetorically before he turned and walked away from them. Seth was trembling horribly. Despite the cold, he was sweating everywhere, breathing irregularly. James and Candace had been looking away for the whole confrontation. Seth knew what Ethan meant. He comprehended the deeper, more hidden subtlety in the question. He saw Mercy trembling as well, curled up on the ground, crying to herself.

  Seth looked at his hands and the weapon they held.

  I don't know, he admitted.

  THEIA

  Life had changed so drastically, and in such little time. One minute she had been speaking to her mother, and before she knew it, she was in someone else's house. Next, she was alone in the streets, then being pressured to commit murder. Even months, as it had been, seemed like minutes when nothing made sense. Events blurred incomprehensibly together. Fortunately now, she was on a bed, lying completely still. She had never been more thankful for a bed, or an empty room. She didn't want company. She didn't want to move. Silence made sense. She understood rest, at least. All she wanted was to remain there, where there was no confusion, and no one shooting at her.

  For the sake of understanding, though, she began to retrace her steps. There had to be an explanation. Something she overlooked, or something she forgot...

  She was back with her mother, in the place where they had been hiding since the chaos began, warming up by the fire. The shack was always cold, even though it wasn't winter yet. Dad was gone somewhere, and Mom was in the recliner reading something. Mom used to read a lot, but she stopped for a long time. Theia wondered why her mother was so … normal. She tiptoed across the carpet toward her mother, resting her hands on the sleeves of the chair. “Mom?”

  “Yes, Theia? You're dad's just running late, if that's what you're worried about.”

  “I wasn't going to say that... I was just wondering.” Theia paused. “Why are you reading?”

  “What? You think I can't read?” Her mother was defensive, but surprisingly calm; more than Theia was used to.

  “No... I just don't see you read a lot. Sorry. I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings.”

  Her mother looked at her with loving eyes. Theia was touched. She missed seeing that love in her mother's eyes. “I'm just trying to distract myself,” the woman finally said.

  “From what?”

  Her mother put down the newspaper and looked into her eyes. “Theia...” she said with so much love, and fear. “I'm sorry I've been such a terrible mother. You know I love you, right?” Though it brought such happiness to hear those words, Theia remembered the far more numerous times her mother had said hurtful things to her. Deep down, Theia didn't know how to feel about what her mother was saying at that moment. She nodded nonetheless. “I always loved you. I never stopped. Please, someday, forgive me.”

  A swarm of men burst int
o the room, some wearing black with face coverings, some wearing uniforms like police officers. They seized Theia. She screamed and screamed for her mother, but the last she saw of her mother, the woman was being thrown from her chair, being beaten and her clothes being torn off. “MOM! WHAT'S HAPPENING?”

  The door opened. Theia shifted her eyes slightly, and saw Zoey had entered. She was empty-handed, which was slightly reassuring in its own little way. “What happened to you?” asked the teen. “You disappeared on us when we got back.”

  Theia said nothing. She had been laying there for most of the day, and the previous night. She couldn't allow herself to cry, or move, or even think. Like an empty shell devoid of essence.

  Zoey approached Theia and sat on the bed at the head. She put her hand on Theia's head, slowly stroking her hair. “I've never seen anyone take this so hard,” she said softly. “You must have a good heart. More than I do.” Theia was motionless. She hadn't yet given any acknowledgment of Zoey being in the room. “You know...,” the teen began. “When everything fell apart, I still had my family. We still had our nice house, we had enough food for weeks, we had guns and ammunition to supply a small army... I left it all, though. I gave it up, almost instantly. You know why, Theia?”

  After a moment of silence, Theia faintly breathed, “Hmm?”

  “I didn't want any of that. I didn't want a good, clean life. I didn't want to wait for months, holed up in a big house, hoping that everything would get better... To tell you the truth, I never wanted things to get better.”

  Theia finally rolled over, looking in Zoey's eyes. “Why?” she asked in a whisper.

  “I think we deserved what happened. We did it to ourselves, after all. And the whole rest of the world just watched us do it. The sad thing is: I'm not any better. I'm not ashamed of that, either. I'm just a lowly, filthy whore.” She looked at Theia affectionately. “You're different, though, Theia. You have a good heart. You're not greedy. You're not cruel. You're better than the people who caused our country to fall apart, and you're better than the people who just sat around and allowed it to happen. You're better than Marcus.” She nodded slightly as she continued. “You know what he is, and he knows that you know. That's why he focuses on you so much. He wants to see if he can bring you down to his level.” Theia was now giving Zoey her full attention. It surprised Theia to hear anyone working for Marcus to speak of him like that. “If you wanna make a difference, Theia.... Keep being yourself. Don't let the world tear you down.”

 

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