Ill-Fated (Ill-Fated Series Book 1)

by S. C. McMurray

“Hurry. Maybe we can get on before they see us.”

  They nearly knocked over a woman carrying shopping bags in both hands, but they reached the top of the escalator. The transaction floor, as it was known, was busy as usual. Rillian and Evelyn merged with the crowd that was standing under the big board.

  “What’s more romantic in early May?” Rillian asked. “St. Louis, Chicago or Columbus?”

  They were the only cities lit up on the big board as now boarding.

  “Romantic, really?” She sighed. “Chicago, I guess.”

  Rillian took her hand again. “Chicago it is.” He led her in the direction of Train B.

  Someone yelled from behind them. “Stop them!”

  Evelyn’s heart sank again. “They found us.”

  But Rillian was unfazed. He simply said, “Okay,” and hurried them toward Train B.

  There was more yelling and the echoes of pounding shoes against the concrete floor. SS men seemed to be coming out of the stone work. Rillian stopped as two of the SS men covered the nearest entrance on Train B. He made an abrupt right turn.

  “Change of plans. I hear St. Louis is beautiful this time of year.”

  They were now running for Train A, which was just a half minute from departing. The echoes of feet were closing in, still they made it to the nearest entrance, but Rillian stopped before boarding.

  “Whatever happens, do not let go of me.”

  She moved her grip to his arm. “Okay.”

  He reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled out the “bug spray”.

  “What are you doing?” Evelyn asked.

  “Giving us a distraction.” He turned a switch on the side of the gun and it began to make a charging sound. He looked at the SS men closing in, then slid the gun across the floor toward them before he and Evelyn stepped aboard Train A. The doors closed and Rillian waved to the SS men.

  “3,2,1, boom.”

  There was a loud hollow thud like someone dropped a large rock into a pool of water and everything went dark. There was silence initially and Evelyn felt Rillian slide his fingers into hers. In the next second they were surrounded by screams of panic and the stomping of feet in every direction as the terminal erupted into chaos. Evelyn couldn’t see a thing. She just held onto Rillian’s hand as he felt his way to the opposite entrance and slid open the door. He stepped out and Evelyn followed. He quickly shut slid the door shut behind them and whispered into her ear.

  “We only have a minute or two before everything powers back on.”

  Evelyn didn’t know how Rillian knew where he was going but when the power came back on, they were half way down a stairwell leading out of the opposite side of the terminal from which they’d entered. There was someone coming up the steps. Rillian pushed Evelyn against the wall and peered over the railing of the stairwell.

  “It’s one of them.” He whispered. He turned back to her. “Let me kiss you.”

  “What?”

  “To hide your face.”

  “No—”

  “—Stop talking and close your eyes.”

  He stepped forward, cupped her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. She threw up a hand, but her protest ended when the sound of the person rounding the corner met her ears. She closed her eyes and relented to the warming sensation she was feeling. After a few seconds, Rillian pulled away.

  Evelyn opened her eyes to see an older woman in a flowery dress waddling up the steps above them. She shot a glare at Rillian. “She wasn’t one of them.”

  Rillian winked. “I know.” He smiled from ear to ear as Evelyn just shook her head at his deception.

  He gestured for them to get moving. “Come on, before we really do run into more of them.”

  Even though Evelyn refused to speak to him the entire walk to the parking garage, there was something she had to admit. It was one heck of a first kiss.

  Chapter Nine

  Evelyn awoke to see Rillian digging through her bag. They had made it to the address on the bill, the tiny basement of a long forgotten house across the old state line in what used to be called Indiana, a few hours before. The others hadn’t shown yet, so Rillian had agreed to stay up and watch for them while Evelyn slept curled up in the corner of the small underground structure, under a blanket they found inside.

  “What are you doing, looking through my bag?” She asked, angrily.

  “Relax,” he said without even looking up, “I’m just looking for something to eat. I’m starving.”

  She reached her hand out. “Give it to me, there’s no food in there.”

  “Whoa, what is this?” He reached his hand inside and pulled out the sketch she’d drawn of her dream visitor. He looked it over. “Who’s this, you’re boyfriend?”

  Embarrassed, she quickly snatched it out of his hands. “No.”

  “Who is it then?”

  Luckily, she didn’t have to answer because the sound of a car pulling up outside caught their attention. Rillian jumped up and climbed the steps to have a look. He open the door just enough to see outside.

  “It’s them.” He threw open the door the rest of the way.

  Evelyn tossed off the blanket and stood up. She grabbed her bag, put the sketch back inside and followed Rillian outside. The dawn was breaking through the trees that surrounded them forming halo of golden sunlight. Lana, Clive, Selena and Mr. Cole climbed out of the van. Lana smiled when she saw Evelyn.

  Selena crossed her arms and leaned against the hood of the van. “So she’s alive.”

  Mr. Cole nodded to Rillian. “Good job, Rillian.”

  Rillian rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide his modesty. “It was nothing.”

  Lana walked over to Evelyn. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”

  “I didn’t really have a choice.” Evelyn lowered her eyes and said gravely, “They took my parents.”

  Lana hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry Eve, we’ll get them back.”

  Clive overheard them. “Get who back?” He asked.

  “Eve’s parents.” Lana responded. “The Secret Service got them.”

  “Yeah,” Rillian piped in. “Evelyn here would’ve been captured too, if it weren’t for me.”

  “That power outage in the terminal we heard about was you, wasn’t it?” asked Selena, oozing displeasure.

  “Yes,” Rillian said proudly. “I improvised.”

  Selena stepped toward Rillian. “You could have led them right to us!”

  “Relax, Selena. We’re fine. They think we hopped the train to St. Louis.”

  Selena walked up to Rillian and put a finger into his chest. “You need to be more careful, you reckless—”

  Mr. Cole threw up his arm between them. “Enough Selena. She’s safe. That was his mission.”

  Selena rolled her eyes then stomped back to the van angrily.

  Mr. Cole turned to Evelyn. “I’m sorry to hear about your parents. We will do what we can to get them back.”

  He reached into the bag he had strung across his shoulders and produced two sacks of food. “My wife packed these for you.” He handed one to Evelyn and the other to Rillian. “Eat quickly because we need to get on the road.”

  “Thanks.” Rillian opened his bag and asked, “Where are we going?”

  “Old Michigan, to a place right on the lake,” Mr. Cole answered.

  “That’s in another Satrapy. It’s hard to cross that border by road,” said Rillian.

  “I know, but that’s where we’ll find Dr. Larkin.”

  Clive wrapped his arm around Rillian. “Don’t worry, I can get us past the checkpoint.”

  Evelyn opened her bag and quickly ate the baloney sandwich and apple Kim had packed for her. Soon, they were all in the van and heading north on the interstate. Clive was driving and Selena was in the passenger’s seat across from him. Rillian and Mr. Cole sat in the bucket seats, while Evelyn and Lana sat in the back.

  Evelyn turned her head to Lana who was sitting to her right. “What am I going to d
o about clothes? I didn’t exactly have time to grab any before I left.”

  “Don’t worry, Eve,” Lana replied, “I thought that this might happen, so I took some time to buy you some clothes, earlier in the week. They’re in the back.”

  Evelyn smiled. “Thanks, Lana.”

  Evelyn leaned forward. “Mr. Cole. Please tell your wife I said thanks for the food when you get a chance.”

  “You don’t have to call me Mr. Cole, you can call me Everett,” he said as he turned himself so that he could speak to her easier. “I will definitely pass your gratitude onto Kim.”

  “Mr. Cole-I mean Everett, if you don’t mind my asking, how did you meet Kim?”

  “I get this question a lot actually, which is great because I love telling the story.”

  “It’s true,” said Rillian. “I’ve known Everett for only a few months and I’ve heard it at least a half dozen times.”

  Everett smiled. “Would you like to tell the story then, Rillian?

  “Sure.” Rillian answered. “Why not?”

  Everett folded his hands on his lap. “Be my guest.”

  “So, Kim’s mother was pregnant with Kim and living in what used to be California with Kim’s father and Kim’s brother when the Chinese invaded.”

  Evelyn instantly looked at Selena, who was staring pensively out her window. She felt sad for her.

  Rillian continued, “Most Asians fled to Canada to escape the anti-Chinese backlash. Kim’s family, however, stayed. Eventually they were moved inland to a concentration camp during the war, where her father contracted pneumonia and died. Kim was born shortly afterward…”

  Evelyn’s heart was breaking as she listened to the story. She pictured a grief-stricken woman clutching a newborn against her chest, a little boy clinging to her leg, mourning the loss of a husband.

  Everett likes to tell this story?

  “…When the war was over, Kim’s family was released. They moved to Cincinnati where Kim and her brother grew up the only Asian children in their school. You can imagine what that was like. Kim’s brother tested out for early military service at the age of 17 and was sent to a military school on the East Coast, leaving Kim to fend for herself.

  “And that was when douche bags like Everett here made her life a living hell.”

  “Hey.” Everett sounded aghast.

  “It’s true, you did treat her like a douche bag.”

  Everett sighed then confessed, “He’s right. I was pretty cruel and the thing is, no matter how bad we treated Kim, she never responded negatively. She was isolated, knocked down, lied about, you name it, and she never threw a punch or even said anything mean. She just took it.”

  Rillian cut him off. “Everett, I thought I was the one telling the story.”

  “Oh, yes,” Everett said. “Please continue.”

  Rillian nodded. “One day Everett and his friends, after an evening of heavy drinking, went to her house to vent their hatred for her. Let’s just say they began by spray painting not very nice things on her garage door, then broke almost every window with rocks. Kim’s mother was at work, but a neighbor saw what Everett and his friends were doing and called the police. Everett and his friends heard the sirens and decided to leave but Everett tripped and hurt his ankle on the sidewalk. The sirens closed in. With Everett unable to walk, his friends abandoned him and bailed, leaving him to take the rap.”

  “That was when Kim came to my rescue.”

  “Everett, I’m the one telling the story.” Rillian paused. “Where was I?”

  “A crippled Everett was about to wet his pants because he was about to get arrested,” said Clive, laughing.

  “Right,” Rillian agreed. “Everett, about to wet his pants like a little boy, was rescued at the last minute by Kim who helped him inside and hid him in her bedroom. The police weren’t that upset about the vandalism. They took some pictures and sarcastically vowed to search all the Satrapy for the perpetrators. Everett, on the other hand, was at the mercy of Kim.”

  “I had no idea what she was going to do,” added Everett. “I was expecting the worst.”

  Rillian continued, “But she did the opposite. She treated his ankle, then called for a taxi.”

  “When I sobered up, I thought about what she’d done for me and how I’d treated her over the years. The next Monday at school, I defended her from some bullies, then asked her to forgive me.”

  “I guess she did,” said Evelyn.

  “That beautiful wife of mine, saved my life in more than one way. I still feel guilty for how I treated her back then.” He pulled out his wallet and unfolded it, revealing a picture of Kim and their daughter Lillian in a happy embrace. “Kim and Lillian are gifts from God that I didn’t deserve.”

  “God?” asked Evelyn.

  “Don’t get him started, Evelyn,” warned Rillian. “He’ll preach the rest of the trip.”

  Everett laughed, “I will tell you about him sometime.”

  The van quieted down. Evelyn looked out her window just as they passed by a sign saying that the border to Satrapy 11 was only sixty miles away. Evelyn glanced around the van. She couldn’t explain it, but this diverse group of people sort of felt like a family. A familial bond forged by adversity?

  Chapter Ten

  He lowered himself into the small metal chair of his apartment, relieved to be home and finally off his feet. He glanced around the tiny space, stainless steel and order, a reflection of himself. It wasn’t much, but as a soldier he didn’t need much.

  After the day that he had just had, he was satisfied in knowing that he had accomplished his objective and all of his team was still alive.

  He thought of his team, men years older than he was, highly trained, brave, honorable. They were cutting lose at the barracks bar he was sure, celebrating a hard earned victory. Like them, he could rest for the moment, but unlike them, he couldn’t relax, not when there was so much to be learned and so much to be done. He reached over and retrieved a small bottle of water from his mini fridge. He popped it open, drank till it was empty, and lobbed a basket into the trashcan across the room. He took a breath as he ran his hands through his blonde hair in frustration.

  Staring up at him from his shiny metal end table was General Thorne – in many ways the founding mother of his beloved country – from the cover of the partially read book sitting there. He’d read her biography a half dozen times and he was two-thirds of the way through the seventh. The edges were worn and frayed, the pages slightly faded. Hardly anyone read books in print form anymore, but he preferred old-fashioned things. He liked the weight of the book in his hands and the smell of the pages. His mentor had given him that copy when he was thirteen and he’d read it once a year, every year since then. There was so much to be respected about General Thorne and what she’d done. If he had half her courage, he’d consider himself respectable. He opened the book and began where he left off.

  He had turned a few pages when there was a knock at his door.

  “Come in,” he said as he set the book on the table.

  The door opened and Sargent Davis walked in and stood at attention. “Captain Phelt, permission to have a seat, sir.”

  Captain Phelt leaned back in his chair. “You don’t have to ask permission to sit down when we are off duty.”

  Sgt. Davis, a black man from New York, was a couple years older than Captain Phelt and the closest thing Captain Phelt had to a friend. He plopped down in the seat across from him.

  “I know. I was just messing around. I didn’t want to offend you. You’re always so….professional.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “No, not 98% of the time.” He put his hands behind his head and leaned back. “I know you were a child prodigy or something, but it’s okay to cut loose every once in a while.”

  “Sargent, you know I don’t like that word, prodigy.”

  Davis rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. It implies that everything was easy for you and that you didn’t have to work f
or it. But, listen, Captain.” He put his arms down and leaned forward. “You’re ten years younger than some of our guys but you act like one of the generals. All business and no play.” He paused and picked up Thorne’s biography. “Hell, I’d bet even she cut loose more than you.” He paused again as he scanned the cover with eye brows raised. “You know what, she’s kind of hot. I wouldn’t kick her out of bed on a cold night.”

  Captain Phelt laughed and shook his head.

  “Was that a smile I saw?” Prodded Davis. “See that wasn’t so hard.” He stood up to his feet. “Captain, you have nothing to prove to me or anyone on your team. We know the kind of leader you are, we know your results, so relax and come have a drink with us.” He lay the book back down on the table. “Like her, I know you are destined for greatness, but your biography is going to be damn boring if you don’t have at least one crazy drinking story in it.”

  Captain Phelt smiled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Good.” Davis saluted. “Captain, I’ll see you at the bar.” He glanced down at the book. “And I’ll see you in my dreams. “ With a wink, Davis left the room.

  Captain Phelt breathed deep. He leaned forward and picked up Thorne’s Biography and began reading where he’d left off.

  I’ll finish this chapter than I’ll go down for a drink.

  Two chapters later, there was another knock at the door.

  Captain Phelt closed the book and said with a bit of annoyance, “Come in, Sargent Davis.”

  The doors opened but it wasn’t Sargent Davis coming into the room. Two brawny men with dark suits and grave faces stood there. They were SS men.

  What are they doing here?

  Before he could verbalize his question, the two SS men parted and one of them said, “First General on deck.”

  Captain Phelt shot to his feet and saluted as First General Octavian Thatcher walked purposefully into the room, carrying a folder of documents. General Thatcher was a mountain of a man, with broad sloping shoulders nearly as wide as the doorway. If one had the opportunity to look close, one could spot a softness in his dark eyes but it was hidden deep under a fierce visage defined by many years of military service and political maneuvering.