by J. Kowallis
“Yes,” Carmen replied.
Roy went quiet for a moment, though footsteps still moved. “Very well, Ms. Mata. We’ll post a guard on the premises for your protection.”
What? Why in the hell was Roy going so easy on Carmen? Even a fish could see she had lied her ass off.
“No,” she uttered. “No, thank you. I will be fine.”
“I must insist, Miss Mata.” By the tone in his voice, even Nate could tell guards were going to be around whether she agreed or not. “Have a nice evening.” Roy went silent for a moment, then his voice spoke up again. “If you remember anything, see them, hear them, a guard will be outside. You’ll let us know, won’t you?”
“Sí,” Carmen’s voice fluttered.
The sound of the front door sliding open and then closing again was a relief. Even so, Nate couldn’t shake feeling something was wrong. How and why had Roy and the other guards bought her story so easily? It left an odd pull in his gut. But they couldn’t stay clinging to the building.
Nate motioned for Reggie to follow him and he pulled away from her, heading back to the balcony they’d come from. His left foot slipped and adrenaline flooded his veins. The strain on his fingertips trying to keep him against the wall, the feeling of the ground reaching to pull him down shocked his system. Reggie gasped behind him.
Nate pulled himself back against the building and took a breath, his heart pounding.
“I’ve got it,” he whispered, straining the muscles in his arms to keep him up. When they were both securely back on the solid floor of the downstairs neighbor’s balcony, he pulled Reggie into his arms and held her, but only for a moment. He pushed her away, relishing the flustered look in her face and motioned upwards. He helped her up to their balcony again, trailing behind.
When he pulled himself through the window, he found Carmen rocking back and forth on the sofa. Her body shook.
“I thought he saw her. I thought he did.”
“What?” Reggie put her hand on Carmen’s back and then turned to look at the bedroom. Nate shut the balcony access behind him and they all looked at Ransley, hobbling out.
“Ransley?” he asked.
She shook her head. Her face looked worse each time he looked at her. The blood pooled behind her skin, creating larger dark bruises. The swelling increased, but it wasn’t the mutilation that caught him.
She wasn’t shaking her head in denial, but in utter disbelief.
“I hid underneath some wool blankets. Two guards came in and shuffled them around, but they didn’t see me. I know he did, though. He had to have. He opened the door a second time and looked around the corner. I jerked. I know he saw me.”
“Is there a chance he didn’t?” Reggie responded, pressing the door panel closed.
“No, he did.”
Nate looked at Reggie and confusion fell over him. He saw what happened to Ransley. What Roy had done to her. No way he would let her go. But he’d left too easily.
“If he did see you, he had a reason for hiding it, though I can’t figure out what he’d gain from faking it. Maybe you got lucky on this one.”
“Maybe . . .” Reggie turned and pulled on a section of her hair, “maybe he’s not as far gone as we thought. I mean, look at Carmen. She went through the Nexis too. She must have been like he is, but she held onto books and portions of her past. Something in her still remembered. There has to be a way to reverse the process. If he kept it—”
Ransley cleared her throat and winced. It made Reggie stop talking.
“No, he would have done something. You didn’t see his face when we fought tonight. He was furious. He was angry. I’ve never seen him so hateful before.”
“Anger? No,” Carmen shook her head. “Subjects don’t get angry.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Reggie’s anxious voice responded. “If he shouldn’t have been angry, then there’s something there. If he should have yanked you out of the closet and didn’t, then he’s still there. There’s a possibility he’s not lost.”
Carmen raised her hand high in the air and Nate grabbed onto it to let her know her comment was acknowledged. “Yes, Carmen?”
“I have to go to work. Ransley should come too.”
“Yes,” Reggie replied. “We know. Ransley can’t go looking like that, though.”
Ransley cleared her throat and winced. “Reggie, my body’s speeding the process. Look at me. I’m burning up, but I’m healing.”
“Not fast enough,” Nate jumped in. “Carmen, do you have injections? Shots for her?”
“Do I?” she asked, looking puzzled.
Nate tried to jog her memory. “When Roy was talking with you, you told him you had shots. Were you lying?”
“Yes,” she smiled.
His heart dropped. “You lied?”
She shook her head. “Yes, I told him I have shots. I have them. But don’t tell anyone.”
A rush of relief flowed through Nate. “Did you steal them, Carmen?” He folded his arms.
Carmen looked at all of them, her mouth closed. The little thief. Carmen was more than a few hidden books. Given a few more months, she would have been running her own operation within the walls of Public Four. Nate wondered if she even knew how close she was to rebellion for everything she’d been doing under The Public’s nose.
“Damn, I’m liking this woman more and more,” he grunted.
Carmen twisted her fingers in her lap. “I didn’t steal them. But, I know who did.”
―ESTEVAN―
Whispers of a late winter wind traveled through the trees around them while Estevan pressed harder on the gas, forcing the bike faster through the forest. Estevan could hear the withdrawn roar of Petey’s motorcycle behind him; lost nearly a half mile behind.
It was over. Any hope he’d had of getting his own justice on Caspar disappeared. Kicking the shit out of that corpse did nothing for the fury growing inside him. If anything, he felt even blacker. No justice, no answers, and Ransley was still gone. If only he knew whether she was alive or not, it might have been able to bring him a hint of light.
He couldn’t do it anymore. He was done with all of it. Even if Ransley was still alive, she’d choose Roy over him. Though it calmed him to know that, it killed him at the same time. She was gone no matter what happened. Even if he went back to the community, he’d never be the settle-down type. Eventually he’d get bored, overwhelmed, or angry. He always did. He had no responsibilities to Ransley anymore. Not to anyone.
He let off the gas and pressed the brake. The bike slowed down to a stop and a few small snowflakes fell on his knuckles. More fell to his head and shoulders while he waited for Petey’s bike to finally pull up behind him.
“Geeze, Estevan, I yelled at you to slow down,” Petey grumbled to him, pulling up beside.
Estevan took his eyes off the numb fingers grasping his handles and looked to the man beside him, not sure how to say it the right way. All that came out was, “I’m done.”
“Qué?”
“I’m too old for this. I’ve done my best with Ransley. Tell Dina. Tell the others. I can’t take care of them. It’s not my job. Not anymore.”
His foot pressed down to the ground and the bike roared to life again. “I’m done,” he repeated again.
The look on Petey’s face nearly made him rethink his decision. But it wasn’t enough. The cold of the air sliced at his face. The speed of the bike picked up, carrying him farther and farther into the empty countryside.
―RANSLEY―
“Not a chance,” Nate’s voice rumbles.
“I’m fine,” I spit at him. “Look. Do you see a single bruise on my body?”
“I don’t give a shit how healed you look. You’re going to meet with an underground black-market salesman within The Public to buy meds and ammo, and you think you’re going alone? Guess again, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me ‘sweetheart,’ cara culo.”
“Sorry, Harpy.”
I jerk towar
d him.
“Stop it!” Reggie hisses, breaking the tension between us. “Both of you! There’s a guard posted right down the hallway. If he hears either of you, we’re dead!”
I keep forgetting about the handful of Public guards Roy left behind to “protect” Carmen. My temper’s been flaring more than usual, and it’s not helping that Nate’s such a pain in my ass—even more so in the last few days.
“Then you tell him to shut his mouth.”
“Shut yours,” Nate barks.
“Listen, hermano, I’m getting a little sick and tired of your sexually frustrated testosterone. You need to get some, and I’m not above telling Reggie here she needs to put out!”
Reggie’s face flares to a dark crimson. “What did you say?”
Nate cuts her off and steps towards me. “Listen up, Harpy,” he points his finger at me. “This is what’s going to happen. I’m going with you and Carmen whether you like it or not.”
“Like hell you are. Mierda.”
“Cuss at me in Spanish all you want, Ransley. But this is how it is. Do you really think we’d let you out onto the streets alone after what Roy did to you?”
“I don’t care, Nate! I’m doing this! I have to do something! I can’t sit here and do nothing! I may still be in pain, but Carmen will be with me. She’ll be . . .”
“Useless,” he forces through his clenched teeth. Carmen doesn’t even flinch. Inside, I do. I can’t admit it to them, but I’m breaking inside. I nearly got myself killed. Nearly got us all caught. What he’s saying is I’m useless. Having Carmen alone with me would make me that much more vulnerable. I can see it in his eyes.
“I can do this,” I jeer. “I can.”
“And I’m an expert. I’m not throwing it in your face, I’m saying that’s how it is. I’m willing to bend on this. To let you come. But you do it my way.”
Reggie folds her arms. “It’s the only choice, Ransley. Nate’ll go with you two. If we all go, we’ll draw too much attention. So I’ll stay. It’s already risky enough to have three go.”
I look at the ground and bite down on my lip. Despite the anger I feel, relief at the thought that Nate’s coming releases the tightness in my lungs. It bothers me that I feel this way. I lash out for one of the cloakers and wrap it around my head. Nate takes another and hands it to Carmen, and one for himself.
“So, how do we get out of this prison?” I ask, resigned.
Nate tenses, and I swear I see him frown. “Easier than you might think. I do more than read books and hide in apartments, you know.” He pulls a power-gun from his pack.
“What about the noise?”
“What noise?” He looks at the firearm and sets it on the counter. “This? I’m not gonna be firing. This is just a prop. Give me two minutes, and I’ll be back.”
A solitary light blinks on his cloaker. Nate opens the door and closes it again. Reggie and I both hurry to the doorway to listen. The sounds muffle. A stifled groan and another thump. We jump back from the door the moment it slides open. Nate’s hunched over, pulling the weight of the guard’s body in with him.
Reggie presses her hand to the pad and the door closes, smirking. “That was quicker than two minutes,” she whispers. She talks so quietly, it’s so hard to understand her.
Nate lifts his brow and holds up one finger.
Just one guard.
She bends over and reaches inside the guard’s ear, pulling out a small clear com bud and tosses it. It sails up through the air and Nate catches it. He takes it over to the counter, resting it down carefully. Using a pair of small tools, he opens up the bud and reworks the wiring.
“There,” he says aloud, sticking it in his own ear.
“What did you do?” I ask.
“The bud was set on full feed. That means they could hear everything. I’ve reset it to a half feed, so now I can respond to them when I choose.”
“Nate,” Reggie calls his name, ready with the used guard uniform jacket. Nate turns to grab the jacket and starts to unfasten his buttoned top. He pulls it off his shoulders, wearing a dark tank underneath. Two tattoos decorate his left arm and shoulder blade. The large one on his arm has a globe, an anchor, an eagle, with U.S.M.C. It must be a military tattoo. The other is partially hidden by his tank, but it looks like a set of hands.
Roy’s scorpion tattoo flashes in my mind and I flinch. Chills run down my body.
“Do you mind?” He frowns at me.
I turn around, rolling my eyes, and listening to his pants dropping on the floor. I can hear Reggie pulling the clothes off the dead guard, shuffling them around. They both work silently—Nate exchanging his clothing, and Reggie tossing aside his other uniform. Carmen stands in front of me, looking at her fingers.
“Got it?” Reggie questions in a whisper.
I turn and Nate nods before walking to the counter. He grabs the power-gun and puts it in the holster at his hip, adding it to the second gun on the other side that he acquired from the guard.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod, tapping Carmen’s arm. She jumps out of her intensive examination of the skin on her hands and follows us to the door.
I move to open the door when Reggie grabs for Nate, making me stop.
She falters in actually saying anything.
“What?” Nate probes.
“She wants you to be safe, Rambo.”
“Ransley,” Reggie groans.
“What? I don’t have to be a mind reader to see it. Now, just say it! We’re wasting time!” I hiss.
“Don’t worry, Reg.” He pauses. “We’ll be all right. Let’s go.” Nate follows me out the door, pushing Carmen in front of him. Out in the hallway, it’s dark and quiet. There are some voices coming from another apartment. We hold for a few seconds before Nate leads us out, all three of us wearing cloakers.
“Q4. Activity on the north,” Nate says, using the com bud. “Send all front units.” He listens, slowing down at the bottom of the stairs. For a moment, he waits. Then he nods and motions for Carmen and me to tail him. We hurry for the front door. All the guards posted to the front are now gone.
“Let’s go,” he whispers.
We rush out the door.
“Hold!” My blood freezes at the sound of a guard’s voice. It can’t be Roy. Don’t let it be Roy. I slowly turn around, ready to look into his eyes.
“All citizens should have retired to their residences. Please ret . . .”
The man’s voice stops when Nate and I turn around. “My apologies, Captain,” he says when he sees the rank on Nate’s stolen uniform. “I wasn’t aware these citizens had an approved attendant.”
“They do. Both women work with the hospital. Lieutenant,” Nate’s voice grumbles, “Was there not a Q4 called moments ago?”
“Yes, sir. Sigma Leader commanded I stay posted.”
Nate nods. Not a flinch. Not a hesitation. “All right. Resume your watch and let me do my job.”
“Captain.” The guard nods and walks away from us.
All three of us leave the building and turn down the next street. The moment we’re out of hearing range, I release the tension in my lungs and take a huge breath. “How did you know that would work?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
“I didn’t,” he replies, looking back with an arched eyebrow.
Down the next street, we follow Carmen. Steam dances through the rusted crumbling grates in the street. No one in the city is awake, but the feeling of being watched—of being stripped to my core is palpable. With each turn of the corner, I feel like he’ll be there. Waiting for me. Roy, and three or four more of him. Not the real Roy. Not the one who saved my life.
Carmen continues to look back over her shoulder. It only makes me more nervous and I can’t help but look back each time her head moves. I swear I can hear my own heart beat echoing off the walls of each lighted tower and building we pass—giving me away and screaming to him, “I’m here! Kill me this time!”
She turns another corner and
hesitates a couple times before she stops. I didn’t see the door it was so well hidden. Carmen places a finger to her lips and gently hushes to both of us.
Right, like I’m going to make a sound. I can’t breathe as it is. Although the injections Carmen had on hand have healed most of my internal injuries, a lot of the pain is still there. She promised this man . . . Israel, would have more. Not just medical supplies, but credentials, and explosives. The more she explained the whole thing to Nate last night, the more he smiled. It was like watching a sadistic child in a torture shop.
Her fingers trace along the wall and she pauses. I realize she has her hand placed on a black door pad. It’s different from others I’ve seen. With her free hand, she traces with her finger in the right hand corner. Up, down, over, over, down.
She presses in with her hand and the panel sinks by an inch. The door hisses lightly, sliding open for us to pass through. Carmen grabs at my arm and pulls me behind her. The moment we walk in, the door snaps closed and Carmen sighs.
“What was that?” I whisper.
“What?” she asks in a normal tone.
“The trace with your finger.”
Carmen nods her head once when she realizes what I’m talking about.
“It’s an older system,” Nate answers.
“Before the upgrades a few years ago.” She stares at me calmly, blinking at erratic intervals.
“How did it work?” I press her.
She inhales sharply. “Oh, the trace pattern in the correct spot was the password that unlocked the door. By pressing in the panel . . .”
“. . . the door opened,” I finish.
She nods briskly. “If you knew, why did you ask?”
I start to open my mouth. Nate shakes his head at me.
“Never mind.”
She nods. Her eyes dart around the hallway before she looks back at me. “We need to wait.”
There’s no extra light, sound, or movement in any direction. From where we stand, there are exactly four directions we could go. There’s a hall in front, and one to each side, with the fourth possibility being a door about ten feet down the first hall to the left. Standing here makes me nervous. Anxious. I feel like we should be looking for this man. Israel. Not waiting, and hoping someone will finally come to bring us—or worse, kill us.