Rescue (The Alliance Chronicles Book 2)

by SF Benson

  “It’s not about safety. This is about planning the rescue. Can’t do it here. We need the Network to help out and a good disguise for you.”

  “Why do I need—”

  “Have you forgotten the authorities are looking for you? Can’t risk cameras picking up your image. What are your feelings about a beard?”

  Minutes later, I don’t recognize the reflection in the mirror. Griffin is a mastermind of camouflage. I sport a convincing beard and mustache. A tribal design tattoo is on my forearm. A fake pierced ear, some retro Goth attire, and a pair of glasses transform my appearance. He wears a similar disguise.

  We exit the building through a basement tunnel connected to another building. Griffin pushes open a heavy metal door and we’re outside. I inhale deeply.

  “Where we going?” We’re in a vacant lot, not the way I entered the building with Gliese.

  “Underground.” His gaze flicks upward.

  “Huh?”

  “Just keep up.” Griffin motions to me and barges into the crisp night air.

  We walk to a railcar on Riverside Drive. A gust of wind forces me to pull the hoodie over my head.

  Waiting for the car reminds me of Tru and the first time I kissed her, an innocent and rather short gesture. But when we kissed later that day…well, it was worth the trouble I got into with Malcolm. In that moment, I learned Tru wanted me just as much as I wanted her. We were meant to be together and I vowed to let nothing break us apart. I screwed up.

  I pace alongside the tracks.

  “Can you be still for half a minute?” Griffin says through gritted teeth.

  His words shatter my thoughts and halt my movement. “Sorry. Thinking of her.”

  “Figured as much… Shit.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.

  “What?” My heart slams my chest, and I forget an important rule of the streets—do not call attention to yourself.

  “Rail police. Keep your head down,” he mutters.

  A couple of officers, men in dark uniforms with red bands on their sleeves, approach us. One of them stops next to Griffin.

  “Kind of late to be out here,” he says firmly.

  Griffin speaks with his head bowed, “Had to pick up my brother. Tried to skip curfew.”

  The officer directs his next comment at me. “Not a smart move, son.”

  A walkie-talkie buzzes. The second officer stops beside me and speaks into the mobile device. Sweat trickles down my back.

  The railcar rushes toward us.

  The officer on the walkie-talkie ends the communication and stares. He circles me, gesturing to his partner.

  Griffin edges closer. “Think we’ve got trouble.”

  “Yeah. Any ideas?” I ask, ready to run.

  “Play it cool. Any sudden moves, and they’ll take us in on suspicion.”

  “What if they take us in anyway?”

  “Cross that bridge if we come to it,” he growls.

  The first officer clears his throat. “We need to see some identification.”

  Griffin reaches into his pocket and produces a couple of cards. “Here’s my brother’s card, too.”

  “You normally carry his ID?” the officer challenges.

  “It’s why I had to come collect him. He left his wallet at home. Got into an argument with the old man and stormed out. He called me saying he needed a way home. No wallet. No tokens.”

  I have to give it to Griffin for being quick on his feet. Must be Riza training or a rule of the street—the best lie saves your ass.

  The officer pulls out a pocket light and scrutinizes the cards. “I suggest you get on this car and go straight home. If we see you again before daybreak, we’ll haul you in. Understood?”

  Griffin takes his card and passes me mine. “Yes, Sir. You won’t see us again.”

  “The New Order expects all citizens to do their duty. Report for your Inoculation Day. Prevent world disaster.”

  —An announcement from the Centers for Human Advancement

  Tru

  Memories, unspoken words, and hugs never shared weigh upon my soul along with the knowledge I should have done more for my family. My self-righteousness hounds me like a bad hangover. The role I played in this tragedy slowly eats away at my core. Actions and words regurgitate like the remnants of a rancid meal.

  Is my need to maintain my creativity worth the lives of those I love? At the time, I believed it was. My view hasn’t changed, only expanded. This fight is bigger than just me. But that doesn’t lessen the pain. Far from it.

  My best friend Ko, former Riza cadet turned Alliance operative, warned me I couldn’t show any emotion the day my mother died, and I gave an award-winning performance. Never making amends for my atrocious behavior devastates me.

  I miss my mother’s warm smile and her calling me her darling daughter. The flood of tears drenching my makeshift bed doesn’t ease the tremendous pain in my chest. It persists day and night like a boulder crushing my spirit. Maybe I can take comfort in the fact I told her I loved her one final time. Not helping.

  Eden robbed me of my family, making me an orphan. She claimed it was payback. Getting help with her grief instead of inflicting it upon others would have been better. But who am I to judge since I still want my own revenge?

  At least there’s Zared… well, no… I have no idea whether he’s alive or dead. If they take him away from me, what’s left of my heart will shatter into a million pieces. Enough. Those kinds of thoughts will defeat me. I have to stay strong no matter what happens.

  The door creaks open. Doctor Aoki walks in with a tray. She wears an elegant silky red blouse, black slacks, and black high-heeled pumps. The woman is stunning.

  “Hungry?” Her voice invites me.

  My stomach grumbles reminding me it’s been a long time between meals. A defiant inner voice warns against my eagerness. No one will buy my cooperation.

  I sit up and half-shrug. “Maybe.”

  She places the tray on the mattress beside me. “I hope PB & J and milk is acceptable.”

  I have never been a fan of peanut butter and grape jelly, but right now, it sounds like a steak and potato feast. I enthusiastically bite into the soft bread with its fruity goodness, washing it down with a large swig of the cold, refreshing milk.

  La Mohína drags a chair out of the corner. “Have you decided to end this game?”

  “I’m not playing games.” A hollow feeling settles in the pit of my stomach.

  She crosses her legs. “You do realize Dr. Pratt won’t stop until he finds Intrepid.”

  “I can’t tell what I don’t know.” I take another bite of the sandwich.

  “Truly, I’m here to help you. I can make your stay with us pleasant. You can have privileges and be happy. If you want my help, you have to help yourself.”

  All of a sudden, the sandwich tastes like grape-flavored petroleum jelly and kiddie paste on bread. Her words along with the food lodge in my throat. I drop the offensive meal, finish the milk, and push the tray away.

  “I never asked for your help. Truth be told, I didn’t ask for any of this. You said I can’t leave here. Forget about me, then. The sooner I check out of this place, the happier I’ll be.”

  Doctor Aoki stands up and walks to the door. “Stop being a little brat. Dr. Pratt will do whatever it takes to get what he wants.”

  Dream sketching helps to pass the time I can’t measure. In my mind, I create vivid pictures—some of Zared, some of my family. The best ones are on a beach. Just Zared and me. He’s enjoying the water, and I’m enjoying the sun on my face. A joyous moment captured in pastels.

  The door bursts open, erasing my work. Two muscular mutants wearing black combat gear barge in.

  Screams spew from my mouth, and I back myself into a corner. One clamps a large hand on my wrist.

  “Get away from me,” I shriek.

  The other grabs my upper arm, dragging me to my feet and down the hall. We stop in front of a metal door. It slides open, and I freeze.<
br />
  The metal dentist’s chair, bright white lights, the steel cart—my nightmare. I try to breathe in deep, calm myself. Instead, the pungent smell of antiseptic grips my lungs. I struggle against my captors, but they strap me to the chair.

  Holden approaches my side, carrying a syringe. “Don’t fret, my dear. It’s not the dreaded vaccine. Just a little assurance so we can get past your games.” His words match the clinical surroundings.

  “What are you going to do?” Ice trickles down my spine.

  “Get some answers,” he says, a smile flickering at the edge of his mouth.

  He jabs the syringe into my arm. Intense pain shoots through my veins. My blood runs cold.

  The brightness of the lights intensifies. My vision blurs. I blink, but nothing changes. Holden speaks, but I can’t understand the words.

  I close my eyes. Thwack! Pain radiates through my head. My cheek stings.

  “Can you hear me?” Holden asks. “Blink once if you understand me.”

  I blink. Sweat trickles down my face.

  “Good. I’ll ask you some questions and you’re going to answer them. Let’s see how cooperative you’ll be. Are your parents alive?”

  What? He knows they’re dead. Tears escape my eyes.

  “N-no.” The word slips from my lips.

  “Good. Do you know Zared Aoki?”

  Why is he doing this?

  “Y-yes.”

  He grins. Somehow, my answers please him. “Now to find out what I need. Do you have Intrepid?”

  Reality strikes. Truth serum. Really? I thought it was a fictitious thing to make bad movies more interesting. It takes over my willpower, forcing me to comply.

  I feel the answer rising. “N-no.”

  “Okay. Did you give it to someone?”

  No. I won’t tell him. The answer bubbles up my throat. I try to swallow it down, but the urge to talk overpowers me.

  “Yes.” I close my eyes. Weakness embarrasses me.

  Holden’s hot breath coats my face. “Was the person at the Ubernet café a female?”

  Oh my God. I’ll betray the woman who helped me.

  My throat pulses painfully. “Yes.”

  I open my eyes when Holden’s hand touches my face. I cringe. He wipes the tears away. “No need to cry. You’re doing just fine. Now, who are we looking for? A brunette?”

  “N-no.”

  “Was she a redhead?”

  “No…no.”

  “We’re almost done here. Did she have long hair?”

  I shudder violently fighting the desire to answer him.

  “Was she short?”

  “No.”

  “Last question and we’re finished. Was she tall?”

  My head gestures negatively, but my mouth has its own plan. “Yes.”

  He barks to a soldier, “Go to the café. Find the tall woman with short blonde hair and bring her to me. If there’s more than one, bring them all. Now!”

  I hate myself for being so powerless against something so stupid as a truth serum. The strength I normally possess goes on vacation.

  “I have one more question, my dear.”

  “You said that already.” Trying to hold my mouth shut makes my jaw ache.

  “Sue me. I lied. This question is personal.” He studies my face until I lower my eyes. Slowly, his fingers stroke my neck. “Did you break your promise? Did you have sex with Zared Aoki?”

  I look into his deep-set blue eyes. Finally, a question I want to answer. “Yes,” I scream. “I broke my promise and enjoyed every… single… minute of it.”

  “You slut!” Holden shoots back, his eyes glittering with anger.

  Thwack!

  My cheek stings, but I hold back my tears. Instead, I raise my eyes. A smile spreads across my face.

  “Guard,” he shouts.

  One of the goons who dragged me from my room stands in front of me.

  Holden rakes a hand through his hair, narrows his eyes, and orders, “Get her out of my sight.”

  He stares at my smiling face as the soldier takes me away.

  “Don’t lose your job, your home, your health, your life following the Alliance.”

  —A communiqué from the Bureau of Homeland Protection

  Zared

  “Fucking close,” Griffin mutters.

  The officers walk away, taking some of my tension with them.

  We board the railcar and ride into the Sandwich District. The car is virtually empty except for an old couple sitting across from us. An extremely pregnant woman and her two young kids are on board as well. The car crosses underneath the Ambassador Bridge and pulls into the next station. Griffin gestures toward the door and we exit, waiting for the car to leave before continuing on foot.

  Griffin makes a quick right. We duck behind a two-story building and walk up to a private patio. He taps on the glass. A portly man with thick white hair slides the door open.

  The hair stands up on the back of my neck as I cross the threshold. Coming here breaks two rules of the street. This had better be worth the risk.

  “Griff, ya made it. Come in.” The man speaks with a thick Canadian accent. He shuts the door and pulls a curtain across it. We stand in a sparsely decorated living room with a sofa and a couple of chairs. The room is lit by a single lamp. “Sit, sit.”

  “This is Zared. Leon’s my stepfather,” Griffin mumbles and makes a beeline for the sofa.

  My eyes rake over Santa Claus’ twin as I sit down, forgetting my manners. Raw electricity snakes through my veins. Get. Out. Now.

  Jolly Saint Nick’s blue eyes flash ominously. Despite the smile on his face, his voice is constrained. “You’ll stay here until I can get ya safe passage. We can’t use the bridge right now. Too many patrols.”

  Know your enemy.

  Griffin bounces his leg nervously. “That’s an understatement.”

  Leon sits on a chair. He cocks his head and sounds concerned. “Something happen?”

  Griffin shifts his position. “Yes. No. I’m not sure. Two railcar officers stopped us. Asked for our ID.”

  The big man strokes his beard. “Not unusual. Just doing their jobs.”

  Griffin shakes his head, twisting his mouth. “No. This didn’t feel usual. It was like they were looking for us.”

  “Nothing to worry about.” Leon sighs. “Unfortunately, I don’t have good news. They transported the girl early.”

  Fuck! I run a jerky hand through my hair. My stomach does flip flops. “Why are we sitting here? We need to go get her now.”

  Griffin ignores me. “Is she at North Woods?”

  “She hasn’t been seen. A transport vehicle delivered her earlier today. The vehicle hasn’t left the facility.”

  Sudden anger rattles my body, and I jump to my feet. “Enough talking. We leave now!”

  Leon looks up at me. “Calm down. We’ll get to her, but it’s going to be more difficult. If ya go, they’ll arrest ya.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say. My safety isn’t important. If anything happens to Tru, so help me, these two won’t see another day.

  Leon shakes his head. “Ya don’t know.”

  “Know what?” I clench my fists, digging my nails into my hands.

  “The A.R. wants ya dead, Zared. They believe you’re the head of the Alliance, and killing ya kills the rebellion.”

  “Beware Creatives. They abhor classifications. They are dangerous.”

  —A statement from the Riza Coalition of Defense

  Tru

  The door opens, and the two muscular freaks come in followed closely by Holden.

  Now what?

  “You’re awake,” he says.

  “You want something?” I ask, my voice icy and hard.

  “To talk.”

  “About?” I stroke my brow and sit up, wary of the other men who stand like sentries on either side of me.

  The thin mattress and blanket are gone. A pure white room without windows greets me. Glaring bright lights hang overhead.
Even the chair Holden sits on is white.

  “Unfortunately, your answers didn’t provide results.” Cold rage wafts off him like the fog from dry ice. “I need a name, my dear.”

  “Can’t help you there.” An incessant throbbing rocks my head. Must be a side effect of the serum. I wonder what other methods of persecution he has in store for me. “Plan on drugging me again?”

  “Something like that,” he hisses and nods to the giants beside me. Before I can move, they pin me to the floor. Holden hovers over me.

  “Get. Off. Me!” I yell and struggle.

  “Not yet.” He pushes up my sleeve and calmly injects me with another syringe.

  Holden steps away, and the two goons push me aside like a discarded doll.

  “That will be all.” He nods, and the gorillas leave the room.

  I rub my arm and hiss, “You coward! Do your own dirty work for a change. I dare you to fight me one on one.”

  He smirks and gazes down at a small, silver object between his fingers. It’s the promise ring—a thing of beauty with an infinity symbol encrusted in small diamonds. He gave it to me at our joining ceremony. Soon after, I threw it back at him. Zared is the only person I want placing an emblem of love on my finger.

  “There are things we’ll do one on one, but not now.” He pulls a small device from his suit jacket and flicks a switch.

  A horrendous sound, like nails across metal, emanates from an unseen source. The sound increases and becomes shrill. I cringe and cover my ears. “Turn it down,” I scream.

  “When you give me what I need.” He stands.

  A small bug scurries across the floor My stomach quivers. Oh hell, not a spider. I swat at it. “Bug problem?”

  He quirks an eyebrow. “Maybe.”

  I blink, and the spider’s gone. What the fuck?

  “Your father and I had an interesting conversation after our ceremony. Seems that you’ve had this inane fear of spiders ever since you were a little kid.”

  The memory makes me shudder. I wandered into an area full of spiders during a game of hide and seek. Been scared of them since that day.