by L. S. O'Dea
“You really think the students would side with the rebellion?” Jason flopped back in his chair.
“Not all of them, but a lot, yes. As I’ve said before, we’ve been too easy on our children and we’re paying the price. This group of young adults is more outspoken than my generation or even yours. They believe they can make a difference.” He smiled a little. “They haven’t realized that most of them are just cogs in the wheel and their opinions and lives will make no difference in the long run.”
Jason’s lips moved as if he were chewing on something. Conguise wouldn’t be surprised if the Supreme Almighty did that when he read too.
Jason leaned forward again, his eyes eager, but cautious. “We should go after the Remore family, not Jethro of course, but the others. It was their Guard who helped with Hugh’s escape.”
Idiot was not a strong enough word. “No.” They’d already discussed this. Going after the Remore family wasn’t an option.
“The public isn’t on their side. Many are already upset about the increase in the cost of meat.” Jason finished his drink and refilled his glass, emptying the bottle.
“Jethro is not ready to turn on his family. We can’t take the chance of him siding with the rebellion.” He couldn’t afford to lose Jethro. The boy was the closest he’d come to success. All he needed was a little more time. Jethro listened to him, but the lad could be headstrong.
“What good are your creations if they can’t be controlled?”
Control was such a common word but so elusive in its execution. “You never control anything not even your children.” Viola had been proof of that. She’d betrayed him for Hugh and he’d do whatever was necessary to ensure that Hugh paid for taking his daughter’s love and destroying her with it. “All you can do is earn their respect and loyalty and hope they follow you.”
“Bah, that’s Gruntshit”—Jason waved his hand—“and if it’s not then we need to discuss your experiments. I don’t see a reason for your creations if we can’t control them.”
He’d kill Jason before he let him pull the funding for his experiments, but he didn’t need to travel that path yet. “Soon, I’ll be able to guide Jethro. Already, the boy is susceptible to my suggestions but I need to move slowly.”
“Then this is a good test. See how far we can push him without a revolt.” Jason leaned forward. “You’ll have to do it eventually.”
“Yes, but this is too soon.” Give him a few months working the Producer Camps. Jethro was too smart to be happy with that life.
“Then this experiment is as worthless as the Tracker and Handler Camps.”
He carried his glass to the liquor cabinet, filled it with the good scotch, grabbed a bottle of the cheaper brand and walked back to the table. “If those camps had been assigned to me, they would’ve worked.” He swirled the liquor in his glass, afraid to meet Jason’s eyes for fear the other Almighty, although not perceptive in general, might see the anticipation in his gaze. “They can still work. If we capture Gaar and Mirra, I can study their blood. See why they bonded but the others didn’t.” If he could get Trackers and Handlers to bond and be loyal to him, he didn’t need Jason anymore. He wouldn’t need anyone. He’d be more powerful than the Supreme Almighty, the Council and their army. “Think about it. We need to be prepared for an attack and having bonded Trackers and Handlers in your army...” He stopped, letting the silence of suggestion feed Jason’s need for fame and power.
Jason’s eyes gleamed for a moment and then he shook his head. “Impossible. There’s no way I can find financial backers for the Tracker and Handler experiments, not after that night and there hasn’t been an attack from the sea in years. We don’t know if that world still exists.”
Disappointment wafted through him. He took a drink and looked at the other Almighty. He was an expert at hiding his disappointment.
Jason stared out the window. “At least on the subject of Trackers and Handlers, all Almightys are in agreement. The creatures must be exterminated and they need to be truly extinct this time.”
Suddenly, he had it. He smiled. “Jason, you’re a genius. I know how to catch Hugh.”
CHAPTER 46: TRINITY
THE REFLECTION FROM THE moon shimmered on the Lake of Sins, giving the place an ethereal feeling. Trinity scanned the area one more time and dropped from the tree. She darted over to the statue of the little girl and the butterfly and ran her hands over the base. Nothing. She took a deep breath and tried again.
Jackson had halted the relocation of camp as soon as he’d realized that she and Hugh had left. When they’d returned, Jackson’s anger had been overshadowed by the looming threat. The Almightys wouldn’t take the freedom of the Guards from the Midtown Shelter lightly. Jason and the Council would retaliate and it’d be swift. They had to move deeper into the woods. Hugh had spent the day pouring over the maps of the area with Jackson and they’d finally settled on a location.
She’d slipped away while the others were packing the camp and had raced through the forest. This trip had to be fast. She needed to tell Kim where they were moving and then make it back before anyone missed her. Her fingers brushed a slight imperfection in the stone. It was smoother than the rest. She used all four fingers and pushed. A small door opened at the base of the statue.
Kim hadn’t been kidding about the size. It’d be a tight fit and she wasn’t eager to crawl inside of a dark hole, but strolling up to the house and knocking on the door wasn’t an option. She bent and peered inside. It was pitch black. Not even the moonlight trespassed inside the passageway. She listened but nothing moved. She couldn’t delay any longer. She slipped inside, hesitating a moment while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She turned, running her fingers over the wall to find the lever that shut the door. She wasn’t taking the chance that a River-Man or Cold Creeper might find his way inside and hunt her in the darkness. She pressed a small bump and the door closed. She pressed it again and the door opened. She was safe. She shook the tension off her shoulders, hit the button one more time and turned, following the tunnel.
The path led downward, deeper underground. Nothing moved. No rats, mice or even bugs. It was cold and damp, like being buried alive. If she got stuck or hurt, no one would ever find her down here. Her breath came in pants and her heart pounded, telling her to go back but she moved forward. The passageway had to lead upward soon. Kim’s house wasn’t underground. For the first time in a long time, she wished she wasn’t alone. She wished Hugh were here with her.
As annoying as he was, he’d kept the journey from the shelter to camp upbeat and that hadn’t been easy. It’d taken them almost four days to detour around the swamp. At first, they’d moved fast. He’d been sure that the Almightys would be right behind them, but nothing had happened and that had worried him more.
Many of the Guards had never been out of the city. She’d tried to teach them about the forest, but they’d refused to listen to her. She was part House Servant after all. So, she’d stopped. Hugh had pestered her to continue her instructions, but she’d refused. If the idiots didn’t want to learn, then let them be food for the forest predators.
By the second day, Hugh had taken over their education but what he’d told them had been wrong. She’d spent their entire trip into the city lecturing him about the forest and he hadn’t paid any attention. She’d been so angry that it’d taken her a while to realize that every time she corrected him, the Guards showed her a little more respect. By that afternoon, she was instructing them and they were listening. Hugh had done that for her. He’d manipulated the situation so that these Guards, male and female, would accept and respect her. No one had ever done anything like that for her before and she wasn’t sure what to do with the feelings it created—gratitude, appreciation, friendship, loyalty and something more, something deeper that she couldn’t name.
The passageway ended at a door. This had to be the entrance to Kim’s house. Jethro’s house. She hadn’t been inside there since the Night of the Trackers. It
’d be different—no bodies, no screams and no Trackers. Her hand trembled as she turned the knob. It opened quietly. A hint of grease hung in the air from a recent oiling.
She stepped into the Remore family basement. It was warm compared to the tunnel and not as dark. There were boxes stacked on the floor and shelves full of items that she couldn’t name. She waited, listening to the house. It was quiet, like a predator waiting for her to make the first move. She didn’t belong here. She was an intruder. She edged back into the tunnel and stopped. She had to control her imagination. It was late and Kim was probably in bed. Of course, she might not be home. The moon wasn’t full. Kim wouldn’t be expecting her. She took a deep breath. She was here. She had to at least see if Kim were home.
She closed the door to the passageway and forced herself to move across the basement and up the stairs. She stopped at the door. More silence. Things were only this quiet when danger was near. That wasn’t always true for houses, she reminded herself. Townsend’s home had been quiet, except for the steady sound of Hugh’s breathing and Sassy’s snoring, but she was alone now.
She put her hand on her knife. The sooner she got this done, the sooner she could leave. She opened the door. The moonlight painted the kitchen a soft yellow. It should’ve looked evil. This was where Viola’s remains had been cooked and plated. Her heart beat faster. It’d almost been her. She couldn’t do this. She’d find another way to talk to Kim. She closed the basement door and hesitated at the sound of a carriage pulling up to the house. It might be Kim, but it could be Kim’s mom or Jethro. Kim had said that he was home from college. She kept her ear next to the door. Footsteps came toward the house—two sets, one heavier than the other. They stopped at the front door.
“Thanks for dinner, Davies. I had a nice time,” said Kim.
Trinity’s shoulders sagged in relief. In a minute she’d tell Kim where they were moving camp and then she could go back to the forest where she belonged.
“Me too,” said Davies. “I hope it helped take your mind off...things.”
She stared at the door, as if able to see through it. Davies was a male. Kim wasn’t supposed to be with a male. Kim was supposed to be with Jackson. Her lips twitched. Jackson wouldn’t appreciate her phrasing it that way.
“Do you think your mom’s still awake?” Davies’ voice was a low whisper.
After a slight pause, Kim said, “She’s probably asleep by now. The lights are out.”
“I could come in for a while. We could...talk.” There was a hint of humor and something else in his tone.
This guy sounded like he was more than a friend. Jackson would be livid if he found out about this. She’d have to talk to Kim before her friend made a big mistake and messed up her relationship with Jackson. True love wasn’t easy. It took work and forgiveness, but it’d be worth it in the end.
“I...I...don’t think...”
Then there was silence. She tipped her head a bit. Nothing. She cracked the door open. There was some sort of sound. She poked her head into the kitchen. There was a slight moan. That guy could be hurting Kim. She moved a few steps out of the basement and stilled at the sound of their voices.
“Maybe next time, you can come over to my place. I’m an excellent cook,” said Davies.
“Ahh, maybe,” said Kim.
The two of them fell silent again. She hesitated. Kim hadn’t sounded hurt or scared.
“I’ve got to go,” said Kim. “Goodnight.”
The front door opened and closed and then footsteps moved across the living room. The steps stopped and there was a sigh followed by a flopping sound. Trinity crept across the kitchen, peeking around the corner and into the other room. Kim sat on the couch, her head resting against the back with her eyes closed.
“Psst,” whispered Trinity.
Kim jumped up, eyes wide and ready to scream.
Trinity leapt across the room, knocking a lamp off the table near the couch as she grabbed Kim, placing her hand over the other woman’s mouth. “Shhh. It’s me. Trinity.”
Kim nodded and Trinity dropped her hold and stepped back. Kim’s eyes were wide and her lips, red and slightly swollen.
She hadn’t pushed that hard on Kim’s mouth and then it hit her like a loaf of Gaar’s bread—the silence, the moan. Kim had been kissing Davies. “You should be glad Jackson didn’t come with me.”
Kim grabbed her arm. “Is he okay?”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Kim dragged her across the room and shoved her into the kitchen. Kim put her finger to her lips as she closed the door.
“Kim? What’s going on down here?” asked Jethro.
The blood drained from Trinity’s face. He was right there. She hadn’t seen him in years. She reached for the doorknob. She only wanted a peek.
“It’s nothing. I knocked over the lamp. Go back to bed.”
“I thought I heard voices,” he said.
He sounded older, more like an adult male and less like the boy she’d known.
“You must have heard Davies. I just got home.”
“Hmm.”
His footsteps started again, coming closer. He was off the stairs and in the living room now. Her hand trembled near the door. She shouldn’t do it, but she wanted a glimpse of him, to see how he’d changed over the years.
“How was your date?” he asked.
“Okay,” said Kim.
“Just okay?”
“Yes, Jethro. It was just okay. What more do you want from me? Davies is an Almighty and he’s nice, but...”
“He’s not Jackson.” Jethro’s tone was hard and flat.
“No, he’s not and I don’t even know if Jackson’s okay.” Kim’s voice cracked.
“He’s fine. He wasn’t in the city.”
“Don’t patronize me. You have no idea where he is or was.”
Jethro sighed. “We would’ve heard if he were captured.”
“I’m going to bed.” Kim’s footsteps stopped on the stairs. “Are you coming?”
Jethro inhaled sharply, twice. “Yeah.”
Trinity waited until the two Almightys were upstairs and then she darted into the basement. She had no idea why Kim was worried about Jackson. Something must have happened but she’d have to wait to find out what.
CHAPTER 47: JACKSON
JACKSON WAITED IN THE shadows of the trees, watching Kim’s house. He’d bet his last meal that Trinity was inside. He’d lost her scent at the statue of the little girl. He’d forgotten about that tunnel. He hadn’t used it since he was eighteen and Kim was thirteen. They’d been sneaking out for a night of exploring. She’d been right behind him, her hand on his back when a noise had startled her. She’d screamed and he’d turned, holding her in the dark. In that moment his life had changed. She wasn’t a little girl anymore and he’d wanted her. He’d tried to stay away from her after that, but it hadn’t helped. Nothing would ever make him stop loving her.
He sighed and leaned his shoulder against a tree. He’d wanted to wait for Trinity by the statue and give her a good scare for sneaking out alone, but Jethro was home from college. The kid wasn’t the same since his father had died. He was almost positive that Jethro wouldn’t hurt Trinity or turn her over to the authorities, but almost positive wasn’t good enough.
Something moved in the shadows by the Remore home. It was small. He tipped his head to catch the breeze. House Servant. A carriage pulled into the driveway. The man from the other night got out and escorted Kim to the door. She wore pants this time, but they were tight and her T-shirt clung to her, accentuating her shape. She always looked best in casual clothes. Approachable. His Kim, but she wasn’t his. Could never be his.
Kim and the male stopped at the door. She’d better not invite the guy inside. He didn’t care if she were no longer his responsibility. He’d bust down the door and drag the Almighty out by his hair if the man so much as put one foot inside that house. It wasn’t that he was jealous. She could date anyone she wanted, but she’d just started seeing t
his guy. The man might be dangerous.
He tipped his head, cracking his neck as the Almighty leaned in and kissed her. That was it. Like Hugh said, they couldn’t execute him twice. He was a fugitive. It wouldn’t matter if he killed this Almighty. A hand landed on his arm. He spun around, ready to attack.
“Jackson, don’t,” said Carla.
“You startled me.” He unclenched his fists and lowered his arms.
“I shouldn’t have. I wasn’t trying to be quiet. You’re going to get caught if you don’t start paying attention.” She touched his arm again. “You need to stop hanging around here.”
She was right. This wasn’t doing anyone any good. He glanced toward the house. They were still kissing. He dug his fingernails into his palm. He couldn’t stop Kim from moving on. Shouldn’t want to stop her, but he did.
The two finally stopped kissing, but Kim didn’t go inside. A shadow broke from the house and moved across the yard.
“Who’s that?” asked Carla.
It was Say. Trinity was here somewhere. “A friend of Trinity’s.”
“Please tell me she’s not here too,” said Carla.
He shrugged, eyes locking with hers.
“Oh crap. Jethro’s home,” she said.
“I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“Right. That’s the reason.” She lowered her gaze. “Kim ordered us to send you away if we saw you again.”
The emptiness inside his chest contracted like a vice. Before Hugh’s escape, he’d started spending nights at the camp, but he hadn’t been able to stay away long. Kim had known he watched her house and she’d sneak out and find him, inviting him inside with her. He’d been hoping she’d find him tonight. Welcome him into her arms again, but it was really over. She was seeing someone else.
“I’m sorry,” said Carla.
He turned back toward the house, unwilling to see the pity in his friend’s eyes. Kim was kissing that man again. She put her hands in the male’s hair. He couldn’t watch this. He focused on Say as the little Servant darted from shadow to shadow toward the carriage.