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The Sound

Page 68

by James Sperl


  Jon's words were like toxic truth serum. Clarissa knew he was right, as much as it nauseated her to admit it. Rosenstein was a far greater entity than she had given it credit. Maybe she should have known sooner that they were too powerful to be tangled with, but hope and determination had blinded her to reality. Though they had come close, she understood now that she and the others would never get the answers they sought. They would never find out if the world could be fixed or if Rosenstein had broken it irreparably. They would also never see Rachel again.

  Valentina was at it again. “Maybe if we just stayed, it'll work itself out, and Rachel will come back.”

  “What are you on?” Evan cried.

  “Ev,” Jon admonished.

  “What?” he said, addressing the group. “Does she really believe this will 'work itself out?' That Rachel's going to all of a sudden appear and walk up to us?”

  Cesare breathed heavily but refrained from responding. He lowered his head and backed over to Elenora. She reached for his hand and kissed it.

  “She was taken, man,” Evan continued. “I'm sorry about it too, but she's not coming back. And now Donna knows we know about her and this place. We need to go, or the same thing's going to happen to us.”

  Valentina plastered on a half smile and gripped her hands anxiously. Clarissa noticed.

  “No, I...I hear you. I'm just saying that maybe...maybe if we waited just a little while longer then Rachel will...” Valentina exhaled powerfully, the conviction in her words waning. “I just think we're being premature, that's all.”

  Clarissa scrutinized her friend. Not only was Valentina talking a mile a minute, but her mannerisms were all over the place. One second she would wring her hands then follow it with fidgety ear and nose scratches. She shifted nervously from foot to foot and barely looked anyone in the eye when she spoke. Clarissa had seen the effects of Rage. This wasn't it.

  “What's going on with you, Val?” she said. “Why are you so insistent we stay?”

  “What? I'm not insis—I'm just saying that...that maybe we give things more time, you know? To see...to see if Rach comes back.”

  Valentina's lips twitched, and her eyes darted uncertainly. Whatever facade she had manufactured was crumbling before Clarissa's eyes. Clarissa stepped over to her friend. A sick, lurking feeling roiled in her gut.

  “Something's not right. What're you up to?”

  “Me?” Val blurted. “I'm not...I'm not up to anything. I...I just want to, you know, make sure that—”

  “I'm getting the same vibe,” Andrew said, climbing to his feet and moving beside Clarissa. “She's lying about something.”

  Valentina reacted by letting her mouth fall open. Clarissa thought it felt forced.

  “Lying about what?” she said. She looked at everyone with hurt-filled eyes. “What would I lie about?”

  But Clarissa knew. Something about Valentina's sudden appearance the other night hadn't sat well with her. It felt convenient. Maybe even timed. In fact, if she had to give it a name, she would say it felt intentional. The roiling in her belly turned into an all out whirlpool of sickness.

  “Donna,” Clarissa said. “This morning, Donna told you she was glad you found us, which implies you saw her before today. But she's only ever worked days since we've been here, yet you told me you got in late in the evening last night.”

  Valentina's chest heaved, and her eyes swelled so large Clarissa thought they might pop like two jelly-filled balloons. Then the levy broke. Valentina didn't respond, not with words at least. Instead, she collapsed onto her knees and erupted into tears.

  Clarissa looked from her to everyone: What the hell?

  “Val, what's going? Tell us. We're your friends.”

  “But...but you won't be,” she blubbered. “Not if I tell you.”

  Andrew glared at her. “What the hell did you do?”

  Valentina wracked with sobs. “After I left the cabin that night, I...I wandered around. I was...lost. I tried to find you again...but I couldn't.” She sniffed a snotty breath.

  Clarissa knelt beside her friend. “It's okay. You told me this already, remember?”

  Valentina forced her head up to look at Clarissa and shook it. Tears tore down her face. “It's not that...It's what happened after that's different.”

  Clarissa's stomach surged.

  “When I couldn't find you,” Valentina went on, “I started walking until I...I came across a road. Some people found me.” She clamped her eyes together, so tightly tears squirted out. “A convoy. But...they weren't strangers.”

  Clarissa sat back inelegantly. She could barely get out the question, “Who was it?”

  Valentina sucked in a jittery breath. “Travis.”

  Clarissa tried to push herself up but stumbled.

  “It was him,” Valentina wept. “But he looks different now. He's burned and wears a mask, and...he has all these people.”

  “Wait a minute,” Jon began, “are you talking about that piece of shit we fought back at Andrew's house?”

  Valentina mustered a nod. “He's crazy, Clar. He's...he's worse than before. Like a different person.”

  Clarissa looked at her friend. The air suddenly felt thin, the ground unsteady.

  “You...You've been with Travis?”

  “Yes, but, but I didn't want to be...”

  Andrew crossed his arms and angled his head. “If that's true, then how are you here now?”

  Valentina passed her bloodshot eyes over everyone. “He sent me.” She found Clarissa and crumpled. “As a spy.”

  “A spy for what?” Cesare demanded. “To find out about Rosenstein?”

  Valentina shook her head. “No. To find Clarissa.”

  Clarissa was weightless, her body and mind adrift in fathomless space.

  “He found Kap and learned about Rosenstein and Ashland. He knew you were coming here. Said he had to find you. Said he wouldn't stop until he did.” Valentina winced with sorrow and choked back cries. “He said if I didn't come find you he'd leave me. I would've been alone.”

  “You mean you wouldn't have gotten any more drugs,” Jon said. Valentina had no response. Jon laughed, but no one mistook it for humor. “You're unbelievable...You came to spy on us? On your friend? Your friend?”

  “I know!” Valentina shrieked. “I know, okay! I'm a piece of shit! I'm a worthless, drugged-out asshole. There's nothing you can call me that I haven't already called myself.”

  Andrew pulled Valentina to her feet, perhaps a bit too aggressively, but Clarissa was too blindsided by betrayal to care.

  “What's he planning?” Andrew barked. “What's he going to do?” Valentina tried to wither to the ground in shame, but Andrew wouldn't let her.

  “I don't know,” she whimpered. “He doesn't tell me anything. He just wanted me to find Clar. To tell him where the checkpoints were and how the place was laid out.”

  Jon rushed to Andrew's side and pulled up Valentina's droopy chin. “Why does he want to know where the checkpoints are?” Valentina shook and sobbed. “Valentina!” She peered at him through wet slits. “Why does Travis want to know where the checkpoints are?”

  “I don't know...but me and the others...we were supposed to tell him how people got in...where things were.”

  Her grip on consciousness was slowly fading. Whether due to withdrawal or crushing shame, her responses lagged and seemed clouded.

  Cesare wedged himself between Jon and Andrew. “There are others in here?”

  Valentina nodded but just barely.

  “What other 'things' were you supposed to tell him?” Andrew prodded. “What else did he want to know?”

  Valentina stared blankly into space. The shock from her confession settled over her like a cold blanket.

  “Val!” Andrew shouted. “What else did Travis want to know?”

  Her eyes meandered until they happened across Andrew's face. She stared at him as if from someplace far away. “He wanted...to know where things were...” She inhaled
with enormous effort. “Food...water...weapons...”

  Andrew released Valentina, and she shrank to the ground.

  “He's planning to attack New Framingham.”

  Cesare and Jon nodded in agreement. “No question about it,” Cesare added.

  “And if she's able to report to him to give him the specifics of this place and that Clarissa's here...” Andrew trailed off and considered the implication. “He's close by.”

  Jon gave Valentina a disgusted look. “Now we know who was behind the attack on the convoy.”

  “So what do we do?” Cesare said.

  “We double-time our exit,” Andrew replied. “We get our stuff and go. Right now.”

  “Roger that,” Jon said.

  “But what about everyone else?” asked Evan. “I mean, we can't just take off and not tell anyone this place may be targeted for an attack.”

  Jon pulled Evan close, beaming with fatherly pride. “I agree. Not informing the powers that be of an impending invasion is tantamount to murder. I can't abide that.”

  “Me either,” Cesare said.

  “Nor I,” Andrew agreed. “But we need to be selective with our timing. Once we've secured our belongings and are on our way out, we'll pass along what we know. Agreed?”

  Everyone nodded, but when Andrew got no response from Clarissa, aural or otherwise, he leaned into her line of sight.

  “Clarissa?”

  She looked at him as if snapping out of a trance. She couldn't tear herself away from staring at Valentina's shriveled form. Clarissa had known her for the better part of her life, had been her closest friend and staunchest ally for longer than she could remember. Emotions raged inside her: anger, sadness, loss, pity, disappointment, remembrance—all pinwheeled off one another in a perpetual state of flux.

  “You sold me out, Val? For what, drugs? A high? A pick-me-up? Is that all our friendship is worth to you?”

  Valentina scrambled to her knees and gripped Clarissa's forearms.

  “You have to understand! I didn't want to do this...Any of it! But I was in trouble!” Snot streamed from both of her nostrils. “I know it was my fault...I, I know I shouldn't have run off, but if I didn't help Travis, I could've—”

  Elenora's open palm rocketed across Valentina's face. The slap stunned Valentina into open-mouthed silence.

  “You should be ashamed of yourself,” Elenora said. “You didn't just betray your friend. You betrayed us all. And for what?”

  “Vieni, Nonna,” Cesare said, taking Elenora by the arm and leading her away.

  Valentina sank back to the ground and lowered her head into her hands.

  Andrew put her to his back. “Jon, Evan, and I will go collect our stuff. Clarissa, get Naomi and meet us in front of the storage facility with Cesare and Elenora. Once we're clear of this place, we'll figure out what to do about Rachel. That work for everyone?”

  Heads nodded in unison. Clarissa pulled herself away from glaring at a weeping Valentina to say, “Okay.”

  Evan peered over his shoulder at her. “What, uh...what about her?”

  Andrew regarded Valentina with utter disgust. “What about her?”

  Jon fixed on a young Hispanic man in the distance. Wearing a blue shirt with a security badge pinned to it, the man spoke frantically with several residents.

  “Everything all right, Jon?” Clarissa asked.

  Jon shot her a caught-in-the-act glance before he took a step forward. “I think so. I know that kid. Met him yesterday. His name's Oscar.”

  Eyes trailed to Oscar as he spoke with the people, all of whom appeared nervous and concerned. Two more men in blue shirts and badges ran across the lot.

  “Something's happening,” Jon said.

  Oscar excused himself from the group with emphatic, pleading gestures then started across the lot at a jogger's pace.

  “Oscar!” Jon yelled.

  Oscar searched the crowd at the sound of his name. Locking on Jon, he cut a path toward him.

  “What's going on?” Jon said, as he approached.

  “Shit's going down,” Oscar replied. “They're calling everybody.”

  Clarissa's heart lurched.

  Jon frowned, took Oscar by the shoulders. “What're you talking about? What's happened?”

  “Not sure exactly, but word is there's a line of vehicles a mile long heading this way. We need to pistol up.” Oscar broke from Jon's hold and started trotting away. “You see anyone else, you let 'em know. Tell 'em to report to HQ. They're bustin' out the big guns for this.” Oscar charged off into the crowd.

  Jon whirled on the others. “We need to go. Right now.”

  Evan looked at his dad with rising horror. “That guy's coming?”

  “He is. But don't worry. We'll be gone before he gets here.”

  “Indeed we will,” said Andrew. “Plan's the same. Triple-time it. Now let's get moving.”

  Andrew started to turn, but Jon took him by the elbow.

  “I need to let them know,” Jon said. “What they're up against.”

  Andrew gaped at him, his forehead creased in confusion. “I think they'll figure it out if they haven't already. We can't do anything for anyone. Now, come on. We've got to move.”

  “No, Andrew,” Jon said curtly. He released Andrew's arm. “I have intimate knowledge of the person coming to attack this place. I can't in good conscience just leave without telling them what I know.”

  “Which is what, Jon?” Andrew said, his voice rising in anger. “You've had one encounter with this guy. A ten-minute firefight almost three months ago. I fail to see how that can be of any use to anyone. Now we're burning time, so let's stop fucking around and go.”

  “Yeah, Jon,” Clarissa implored. “We need to leave. There's nothing we can do for these people now.”

  Jon took a step back, dead serious. “He killed my husband. Evan's father. He tracked us to a house in the woods where he likely killed Kap. Then he followed us to Ashland where it wouldn't surprise me to learn that he murdered Zane and Darlene as well.” Andrew shared a sympathetic look with Clarissa. “He's a relentless psychopath and sociopath who has apparently amassed enough desperate people to form an army, and if he can manipulate even half of them as easily as her...” He thrust a finger at Valentina. “...then not just we, but all of us, are in big fucking trouble. These people deserve to know what sort of fight is coming to them.”

  Silence lingered. Andrew stared at the ground and shook his head.

  “I'm not asking, Andrew,” Jon clarified.

  Andrew stood with his hands on his hips. “Fine,” he said eventually. “But you hightail it the fuck back to our rally point as soon as you're done.” He jabbed a finger an inch from Jon's chest. “Do you understand?”

  Jon nodded. “Copy that.”

  “I'm going too,” Evan said.

  “Absolutely not.” Jon accompanied this with a head shake. “I need you to go with Andrew.”

  “But I want to go with you!”

  “Ev, he's going to need your help. I'll only be a few minutes then I'll meet up with you. I promise.”

  Evan pouted and scrunched his lips into a knot. Clarissa felt his pain. The poor kid had already lost one parent. Even just the thought of losing the other had probably thrown him into a state of despair.

  “Look,” Jon said, hugging his son, “I've got to warn people about what kind of person this Travis guy is. If it were us in the dark, and people were coming to attack this place, wouldn't you want to know?”

  Evan hesitated then nodded against his father's chest.

  “Me too. That's why I've got to go. I'll meet you at the storage facility as soon as humanly possible.”

  Evan pulled back. “You better.”

  “Count on it.” Jon kissed Evan's forehead then looked at everyone. “I'll see you all real soon.” He sprinted into the crowd.

  Andrew watched him. Other than Clarissa, Jon was the closest thing he had to a friend. The two spoke the same survivor's language and adapt
ed to the reality of a situation long before anyone else could bring him- or herself to accept it. He'd grown to respect Jon's input and experience—something it appeared he already missed.

  “Okay, everyone,” he said with a sigh, “let's go. Clarissa, you still good with Naomi?”

  Clarissa gave him a thumbs up. “I'm good. Meet you over there.”

  Andrew bobbed his head but not before he delivered Valentina a hard, cold stare. Gathering up his belongings, he led Cesare, Elenora, and Evan into the crowd.

  Evan looked back and called to Clarissa, “What I said to my dad goes for you too. Hurry.”

  “I will,” Clarissa said.

  Valentina was a mannequin on the asphalt. Propped up on an arm, she stared lifelessly into space, her eyes glassed over and vacant. If Clarissa were a true friend, she would scoop up Valentina and tell her it was okay. That they would get past this and that she understood why Valentina had done what she had done. Forgiveness would be automatic, as it was supposed to be between sisters.

  But Clarissa could muster none of those sentiments. Valentina had taken Clarissa's glass soul and smashed it to the floor then trampled its shards beneath steel-soled boots. She didn't know if she would ever be able to forgive Valentina, but if she wanted an opportunity in the future, she needed to take Naomi and leave this place.

  So that's what she set off to do.

  CHAPTER 64

  “Well, you're early,” Dustin said. He looked at a nearby analog clock, which used coffee cups in place of numbers, and frowned. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your com—”

  “You need to start getting all these kids ready to move. Right now.” Clarissa walked past him over to Naomi's crib.

  Dustin's eyes bulged as he chuckled. “Excuse me?”

  “Someone's coming,” Clarissa said. “Someone bad, and pretty soon you're going to have every parent in here scrambling to try to get their child.”

 

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