The Last Peak (Book 3): The Darwin Sacrifice

by William Oday

  But no more. Not since Holly’s death at the hands of that murderous gang leader.

  The man with dreadlocks ushered them toward the edge of the crowd and then headed back to his post at the door. The crowd of fifty or so hummed with nervous energy. Elio hadn’t told her exactly why he’d insisted they attend this secret meeting.

  And the not knowing made it all the more exciting.

  A woman separated in front stepped up onto the empty stage. No doubt it was once filled with drummers banging bohemian beats, guitarists strumming electric riffs, and singers beseeching the crowd to share in his or her ecstasy or agony, depending on the song. The woman sat an LED lantern on a bar stool next to her.

  “Fellow citizens,” the woman began. “We gather here under the threat of great duress because we care more for the future liberty of this country than the fleeting security of the present moment.”

  Her voice rolled out over the crowd with a strength and certainty that had Theresa agreeing with the statement before considering what it might mean.

  The woman continued.

  “The rumors we’ve discussed at past meetings are no longer that. They are now confirmed. They are now facts. Slavery has once again infected this great country.”

  The crowd exploded in shouts of anger and condemnation. A man’s voice rose above the rest. “That’s a serious allegation. Before we march off in protest and burn City Hall, I’d like to hear what proof you have.”

  Numerous voices in the crowd exclaimed their agreement. The woman on the stage held out both of her hands and batted the air waiting for the noise to die down. “First of all, we’re not burning any buildings. We’ve been in contact with one of the truck drivers working the food supply route to the north. To protect him and his family, we can’t divulge his identity.”

  Rumblings from the crowd threatened to derail her explanation. She spoke louder, more forcefully. “We assure you that he is absolutely trustworthy. And he has seen with his own eyes what we have all begun to suspect. The farmers in the north have enslaved deltas and are using them to work the fields. We also have reports that they are using convicted criminals in the same fashion. The conditions of their captivity are inhumane and unacceptable.”

  The same man who objected earlier spoke out again. “How does this driver know so much? Did he hang out and share a glass of iced tea with the plantation owners?” He laughed out loud and a few others shared his mirth.

  “We can’t reveal more than that about the source of the information. What you must know is that it is true and it is happening as we speak. We are talking about humans enslaving other humans and treating them like property. Our country nearly tore itself apart dealing with this issue not so long ago.”

  The same man continued. “Yeah, I get it. I’m with you on the prisoners if it’s really happening like that. But the deltas? Are they really human anymore? I heard the ones that got through last night didn’t just kill that guy. They practically ate him whole.”

  “Stuart, we’ve debated this again and again. It is the reasoned decision of the vast majority here that while the deltas are impaired and, yes, dangerous, they are also still human. What’s more, they are not at fault for their primitive behavior.”

  Stuart piped up again. “All I’m saying is that everyone in the city needs food and they grow it for us in the north. Maybe they’re just using the tools at their disposal to get the job done. That’s what we all do every day.”

  “A human being is not a tool to be used and disposed of!” the woman yelled. “This is not the first time you’ve questioned our cause. It’s not the fifth or tenth time. Why are you here?”

  “Why am I here?” Stuart shouted back. “How dare you! Last I checked this was a free country!”

  “It is no longer free for all of us.”

  “Yeah, right. All based on some bullshit rumor from some imaginary guy you can’t identify because he doesn’t exist. I joined this group because I’m a concerned citizen but all I’m hearing is you trying to get people fired up over something that may or may not be happening. What’s your real agenda?”

  The woman’s voice went ice cold. “I have but one agenda, as you call it. To preserve the liberties that are the foundation of this great country.”

  She swept her eyes over the expanse of the crowd. There was no way she could see past the first couple of rows with the dim illumination in the room. But the effect was the same all the way to the back where Theresa and Elio stood. They all waited in rapt attention.

  “And I have worse news yet, citizens. We have reports that the president of the United States has explicitly assured the farmers in the north that they will not be challenged on the slavery tragedy.”

  Shrill whistles pierced the air.

  The man with dreadlocks stumbled forward and collapsed onto the floor. Blood leaked from his face.

  Dozens of flashlights sliced into the room like a laser show.

  “You are all under arrest!” A voice shouted from behind the blinding wall of light.

  The wall of light rushed forward and long batons whipped through the air laying into the packed crowd. People screamed and ran over those behind trying to get away. An overweight man shoved backwards knocking Theresa to the floor.

  Elio drove his shoulder through the man’s chest and knocked him sideways. He grabbed Theresa’s arm and dragged her to her feet. “Come on!”

  He pulled her forward through the crowd and made it to a dark hallway. They rushed down the hall. Elio tried the nearest door on the left and found it locked. He tried the next one down and it opened. They rushed into a men’s bathroom. Beyond three empty stalls were two urinals.

  Above the urinals was a narrow window to the outside up by the ceiling.

  Elio darted over and climbed up a urinal. He reached up and tried pushing the window open but it wouldn’t budge. He clenched his hand into a fist and punched it dead center. Thin glass shattered and clattered to the tile floor. He looked at his knuckles and grimaced.

  “Let’s go!” he yelled as he held out his other hand for her.

  Theresa crunched over the carpet of glass. With one foot on a urinal and the other braced on the corner wall , Elio pulled her up.

  “Get up on my shoulders!”

  She made it up and got her knees on his shoulders. She reached through the narrow opening, trying to avoid the jagged shards still stuck in the frame.

  Footsteps pounded down the hallway.

  Theresa grabbed a vertical pipe running along the outside of the window and pulled herself through. “Hurry, Elio!”

  The bathroom door flew open and smacked against the cinderblock wall. A bright flashlight blinded her as she looked down through the window.

  Elio hopped down to the floor. “Go!”

  “Stop!” the Chief yelled shining the flashlight in Theresa’s face. His eyes narrowed. “You’re Mason’s daughter aren’t you?” He smiled wickedly. “You’re both under arrest for breaking curfew!”

  “Run, Theresa!” Elio said.

  The Chief’s face twisted up and he charged, swinging his heavy wood baton.

  Elio dodged to the side and trailed a foot behind catching the Chief’s ankle. The stocky man tripped and sprawled forward. He crashed face-first into the urinal and collapsed to the floor. He rolled over holding his jaw and moaning.

  “Elio!” Theresa shouted. “Come on!”

  Elio scrambled up the urinal and Theresa pulled him through the window.

  “Outside! They’re outside!” the Chief yelled.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The mad dash home blurred by in dark wipes of gray fog and orange light. Several times, it sounded like they were surrounded as the shrieking whistles of the Curfew Patrol closed in on their location. Somehow, Elio managed to lead them through to safety but now the whistles were louder and closer than ever.

  They skidded to a stop outside her window as a dozen flashlights bobbled toward her house from down the street.

  Ther
esa slid her window open and scrambled through. She turned and was surprised to see Elio still outside. The brightness of the approaching lights made him more and more visible. “Get in here!”

  “I’m supposed to be at home!”

  She reached through the window. “We’ll figure it out!” She dragged him inside and slammed it shut as someone pounded on the front door upstairs.

  A muffled shout followed the banging. “Open the door! Now!” The banging continued.

  Her father’s voice boomed. “Shane, what the hell do you want?”

  Theresa tip-toed to her door and cracked it open. Their voices echoed downstairs.

  “You’re daughter and that criminal she hangs around are out after curfew. I saw them with my own eyes. They will be placed under arrest the minute they return!”

  “What?” Mason roared. “Elio went home last night and my daughter is asleep in her bed. Now get off my porch before I toss your ass onto the street!”

  “You will either allow us in to check her room or we’ll wake up this whole damn neighborhood searching for her. I’m sure your neighbors would be interested to learn about her breaking curfew to attend a secret meeting hosted by a violent criminal group.”

  The voices dropped and Theresa couldn’t make out the words.

  “Fine,” her father said. “And when we find her sound asleep, I’m going to add to the bandage already decorating your face.”

  Numerous footsteps started across the living room above.

  “Only you, Shane,” Mason said. “I’m not having a dozen buffoons barge into my daughter’s room in the middle of the night.”

  “Fine.”

  The wood floors creaked as the two headed toward the stairs.

  Shit!

  They were headed downstairs to check on her!

  She eased the door shut.

  “Elio, take your pants off!”

  He gave her an odd look. “Now is not the time for—”

  “Shut up and strip! Down to your underwear!”

  He started to strip as Theresa tore off her coat and flung it into the closet. She kicked off her shoes and was reasonably certain they made it into the closet as well.

  Footsteps creaked at the bottom of the stairs.

  Theresa threw back the covers on her bed and leaped in. She tossed a pillow and an extra blanket down on the floor next to the bed.

  Footsteps padded to a stop outside her door. A soft knock on the door.

  “Theresa?”

  The doorknob squeaked as it turned.

  She turned and saw Elio standing in his underwear holding his pants, shirt, and shoes.

  He was seriously so skinny and cute.

  She grabbed his gear and shoved them under her covers and then yanked his hand down hard. He fell to the floor and they both pulled blankets over themselves as the bedroom door swung open.

  The light in the hallway flashed across Theresa’s eyes as she shut them. She did her best to act like she was out cold. The thumping in her chest and the tingling in her fingers didn’t make it easy. She knew for sure she was doing something stupid, like flaring her nostrils breathing so hard or something.

  She blinked her eyes open like they’d been glued shut for years. She held her hand up to block the light thinking that might sell it better.

  “Dad?”

  “Sorry, honey,” Mason said standing in the open doorway. “I told you she was…”

  A long pause.

  Not of the comfortable kind.

  “Elio?” Mason said.

  “Didn’t you say Elio went home last night?” the Chief asked.

  It was not a question.

  Theresa almost screamed. They were busted. Her father was going to go mental. She’d probably be grounded for the rest of her life. She’d still be grounded even after he died. He’d probably write it into the will as a condition of her receiving an inheritance.

  “Oh, yeah,” Mason said. “That’s right. That was the original plan but dinner ended up going so late my wife wanted him to spend the night. You know, so he wouldn’t break curfew.”

  “What a load of shit. Chief Fowler saw them! They were wearing all black clothes!” He marched into the room and grabbed the edge of Elio’s blanket. Before anyone could stop him, he yanked it away revealing someone verifiably only wearing one piece of clothing, and it was small and white in color.

  Elio bolted upright with a confused look on his face. “What’s going on? Are you crazy?”

  Theresa couldn’t tell if he was acting or not. He was that good.

  “I told you they weren’t out breaking curfew. Now, if you’re finished harassing my family and friends—”

  “But… no,” Chief Fowler said. “I saw them. They were dressed in black.” He reached for the sheets covering Theresa.

  Before his hand got halfway there, Mason grabbed it and in a blur that reminded Theresa just how dangerous her father could be, he twisted it under and around the Chief’s back.

  “Don’t do that.”

  Holding the Chief’s hand locked behind his back, Mason shoved him out into the hallway. He let go and then shoved him hard in the back. He turned back to look into her room.

  “Go back to sleep. We’ll discuss this in the morning.”

  The threatening way he emphasized back ensured there was no chance she was going to be able to sleep.

  “And Elio, put some pants on and stay on the floor.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  ELIO LOPEZ shivered in the predawn chill. He opened the door to his apartment building and glanced back at Mason standing at the bottom of the steps. Theresa’s father exuded a frozen fury that made the frigid temperature of the air feel hotter than the sun. He nodded and Mason didn’t respond.

  This qualified as a major screw up.

  The fifteen minute walk home had been a grilling like he’d never endured. Not while staring down the principal back at Venice High School. Not even while staring down Cesar on the night the gang leader went on an insane killing spree.

  It was his fault Theresa had been in danger.

  He wasn’t sure if there was any coming back from that.

  Dammit.

  It wasn’t supposed go down like that. It was something exciting, something forbidden. Something they were supposed to share. Typical teenager hijinks stuff.

  Didn’t that exist anymore?

  Besides, what if what those people were saying was true? Didn’t everyone deserve to know?

  Elio turned and headed upstairs to the apartment he and his mother shared. He let himself into a small living room hidden in darkness. He collapsed on the couch wondering how he was going to explain not coming home last night. He glanced at the digital clock on the side table.

  Six AM. His mom would be up soon.

  “Where have you been, mijo?”

  Elio jerked so hard he almost broke his back.

  The side table lamp clicked on to reveal his mother, Maria Lopez, sitting in the burgundy chair that she’d traded the neighbors an old toaster to get. She was a legendary bargainer. “No entiendes?”

  “Good morning, mom.”

  “Don’t good morning me. Where have you been all night?”

  “I ended up spending the night at Theresa’s.”

  Her eyebrows shot up and her lips pursed tight. “And you made this decision all on your own, did you?”

  “I would’ve called but…”

  It sounded pathetic even as he said it. They both knew phone service had been promised again and again but only a select few, like Theresa’s mom and dad, had it yet.

  Maria held up her palm inches from his face. “Please, mijo. Don’t make it worse than it already is. You stayed all night at that man’s house!” She spat out the reference to Mason. Through all that had happened, she’d somehow managed to retain her hatred of Mason for letting her husband die in Fallujah.

  If only she knew the truth. She’d probably try to kill him.

  Elio wanted her to know the truth, but t
his wasn’t the time or place for complicated revelations.

  “What time is it?” he asked knowing already.

  “Just after six, why?”

  He jumped up, feigning alarm. “I have to be at work by six-thirty!”

  The fury in her face melted into confusion.

  Yes!

  “What?”

  “My new job! I have to get ready!”

  He did have a new job that he’d been meaning to tell her about. He’d been trying to get one for awhile to earn more food coupons. The subsistence level they received each week was barely enough to keep them fed. One of them had to work to earn more and his mother was too shell-shocked to do much of anything besides mope around the apartment staring blankly into space.

  So, he’d finally gotten a job. Thought it actually started at eight AM… next Monday.

  The frown creasing her lips leveled out. The corners didn’t turn into a smile, but it was an improvement. “You got a job?”

  Elio nodded. “Yep. The papers finally came in yesterday. You’re looking at a Special Delivery Technician for the United States Post Office.”

  A glorified delivery boy, in other words. But at least it was a job that paid in food.

  The straight line of her mouth curved up into a smile. She jumped out of the chair and hugged him. “I’m so proud of you, mijo!” She looked him over and her eyes narrowed seeing his all black attire. “Go get changed. I’ll pack you a breakfast.”

  Elio stood there motionless, stunned by the prospect of his successful diversion.

  “Get moving, mijo!” she said as she turned him around and sent him off toward his bedroom.

  Elio had his clothes changed and teeth brushed in minutes. He splashed a handful of water to reactivate the gel in his hair and spiked it out so it looked just right. He grabbed a coat (not the black one) out of the closet as his mom appeared from the kitchen with a little brown bag that had steam wafting out the top.

  She folded over the top and passed it to him. She took his arm and guided him to the front door. After looking him over, she licked her thumb and mashed down the hair that he’d spent so much effort meticulously spiking.