Compulsion

by Perrin Briar

  “It’s unusual, is all I was saying,” Dave said.

  “Yeah, well,” Bo said. “Go say something to someone who gives a damn.”

  The girl—Siren—hadn’t looked up once from her old dirty tennis shoes. Bo took pity on her and tossed his grease stained sweatshirt her way. It landed in her lap. She did not hesitate to put it on. She rubbed her arms.

  “Thank you,” she said quickly, an afterthought.

  She was not afraid, only tired.

  “Doesn’t look like you’ve got the whole town covered,” Wyvern said, nodding to the monitors.

  “Not every nook and cranny,” Bo said. “No. That would require entirely too many resources. We had to think creatively. Use the cameras in the places most likely to be ventured by assailants. As you can see, it works. And I’ll be seeing your worthless backs on them too, as you leave here after the rain clears up.”

  “Must take a lot of people to maintain a defense like this,” Wyvern said.

  “Nine men,” Bo said. “We work in shifts of eight hours, though they have been known to stretch to twelve or sixteen when the need arises.”

  Bo blinked and shook his head. He’d done it again, revealed entirely too much information. There was something about these kids that made him feel comfortable, made him want to spill the beans. He grunted and moved to the small kitchenette in the corner of the room. He flicked the kettle on.

  The kids didn’t look dangerous, but Bo knew better than to assume. Never take a chance, never let your guard down… And yet that was exactly what he had done in bringing them here. He shook his head in an effort to dispel the cloud in his mind.

  Siren was looking up at him. Her gaze met his. A shiver went through Bo. It had been a while since he had been with a woman, but simply looking at her shouldn’t have had this effect on him. He wasn’t thinking anything bad, anything he should have been ashamed of, and yet he felt guilty.

  Siren’s eyes were a deep emerald green, shimmering with an internal light, almost turquoise. Stunning. And yet, something tugged on Bo’s memory about them.

  Weren’t her eyes blue before? His knees shivered again, weakening.

  “Would you two like some coffee?” Bo said.

  “That would be great, thank you,” Wyvern said.

  Bo headed for the corridor, to the storage room. It made him feel good that he was going to give these poor malnourished teens a cup of hot coffee. The storage cupboard was a small part of the equipment they had at the community. It was decided it was better to spread it out for fear the Raiders got inside and stole it all in one fell swoop.

  Bo reached up and took the tin of coffee down from the shelf. He paused when he saw the army blankets on a lower shelf. He grabbed two without thinking and threw them over his shoulders. He closed the door behind himself.

  The kettle was whistling by the time he returned. The kids were still sat there, hadn’t moved an inch. Bo handed the blankets to them. They wrapped themselves up.

  A small thought passed through Bo’s mind, questioning himself about how he could have left these kids by themselves with all the security equipment, but as soon as it popped into existence, it was gone again, like it was smothered with grease and impossible to keep hold of. He made the coffee and handed them the mugs.

  “Where are you from?” Bo said.

  “Here, there,” Wyvern said. “Everywhere. You?”

  “From here,” Bo said. “Brookdale.”

  “We’re on our way to Whitegate,” Wyvern said. “Have you heard of it? We’ve been heading in that direction for over a month. There are rumors it’s a safe haven.”

  “Safe haven,” Bo said, rolling his eyes. “Ha! There’s no such thing as a safe haven. The closest thing is what we have here at Brookdale, and even we’re not completely safe from the Raiders.”

  “But the people said-” Wyvern said.

  “People say whatever makes them feel good,” Bo said. “It’s Whitegate today. It’ll be some other far flung place tomorrow, and then another one the week after that. Don’t waste your time, there’s nothing at Whitegate.”

  He sighed.

  “I hear about people going there all the time,” he said. “Never heard of anyone who came from there though.”

  “Would you come back if you found a real safe haven?” Siren said.

  Bo pursed his lips.

  “No, I suppose I wouldn’t,” he said.

  The rain on the windows ceased, slowing to a dribble before finally giving up the ghost altogether. The remainder spattered down the drains.

  “Drink up,” Bo said. “The rain is over. We’re not a charity here. It’s time for you to move on.”

  He stood up.

  “We haven’t really slept for more than an hour at a time all week,” Wyvern said. “Let us sleep for a couple of hours. Just until dawn. No one will see us. We’ll be gone before anyone else is up.”

  “Now, now,” Bo said. “That isn’t what we agreed, is it? We agreed you would leave after the rain had stopped. The rain has stopped, and you can’t stay here any longer.”

  “Please,” Siren said.

  She spoke softly, not needing to raise her voice. It felt like a command, despite being a plea. It was difficult for Bo to comprehend.

  “Let us stay just for tonight,” Siren said. “Then we’ll be gone. Forever. You’ll never see us again.”

  Siren’s eyes locked on Bo’s. Again he felt that pull, that unassailable desire to fall into her eyes and never emerge again. He couldn’t bring himself to look away. And he didn’t want to. Her eyes were steady, treading the precarious line between pleading and begging.

  The warm sensation overcame him again, a feeling he hadn’t had in many years. He allowed himself to swim in the soft tranquil blue pools of her eyes. They brushed against the burnt edges of his shrivelled soul. There was something very special about this girl. She needed to be protected, to be kept at arm’s length from danger.

  “Yes,” Bo said. “Of course. Just until morning.”

  He lit a candle and headed toward the door that led to the corridor.

  “Follow me,” he said.

  He led them upstairs to the second floor landing, through a doorway, and into his bedroom.

  “There’s only one bed,” Bo said. “No funny business.”

  “We’re brother and sister,” Wyvern said.

  “Keep the door open,” Bo growled. “I may not be able to see you, but I want to hear you. Night.”

  He turned and left the bedroom. As he headed farther away, he felt a lightening of weight pressing down on his chest. By the time he got to his chair he had come to his senses.

  He would turn, head back, and evict this pair from his home. They had drunk his coffee, stolen his heat, used his blankets, and now they had his bed. When had Bo lost leave of himself?

  Old Bo McMurphy, who had never shown a moment of kindness to any stranger his whole life, had let this pair of teenagers stay? He shook his head. He was getting soft in the apocalypse.

  Chapter Five

  WYVERN and Siren looked about the room. The candle was dim and offered little light, barely illuminating the bulky protuberances of the bedframe and furniture. The room was windowless, cold and drab.

  The room had a heady aroma of dirty clothes, perspiration and stale air, and yet it was the best location they had to sleep in for a long time. It was warm, and that counted for a lot.

  Wyvern took in the battered furnishings and wondered if Bo would hear him if he rummaged through the drawers of the old splintered dresser. He wouldn’t take anything. He just wanted to take a look. It had become a major habit of his in recent times. But he was suddenly aware of the need to maintain good social manners.

  “Don’t go rooting around the drawers,” Siren said.

  Wyvern smiled and turned it on his sister.

  “I wasn’t even thinking that,” Wyvern said.

  “Sure you weren’t,” Siren said, rolling her eyes.

  They’d been to
gether every day for the past two years and knew everything there was to know about each other. Even things they never wanted to know.

  Wyvern and Siren were their nicknames; the new names they’d given one another. In a new world like the one they currently inhabited, new personalities helped deal with the horrors they now faced.

  Wyvern gave Siren her name from her ability to get whatever she wanted. He had initially thought it was favoritism at play on the part of their parents, but as he grew older he realized it was something more. It was the way she spoke to them, the way she asked for what she wanted. It was like she was speaking to their subconscious, and they had been unable to resist.

  Siren had given Wyvern his nickname from his fiery temper. There were wyverns in the book series she was hooked on about dragons and sorcerers and princesses. Wyverns were considered dangerous fire breathing monsters, but in the story there was a good wyvern that protected the princess. Siren’s brother was like that. He protected her, and always would, she knew.

  “What if Whitegate isn’t the haven we think it is?” Siren said.

  “Then we’ll look for the next one,” Wyvern said, patting her shoulder.

  “What if there are no havens?” Siren said.

  “There will always be safe places,” Wyvern said. “We only fail when we stop looking for them.”

  They’d had the same conversation before, and Wyvern was fully prepared with his replies.

  “Do you think they’re still chasing us?” Siren said.

  She didn’t need to specify who. Wyvern already knew. The Raiders. They’d picked up their tail ten miles back. They’d been lucky to escape, but not quite enough to get away for good, or with any great distance. Until they reached Brookdale. This was their chance.

  Whitegate wasn’t the first haven they had been to. They had been to a dozen others. Lucky number thirteen.

  The truth was, Wyvern didn’t know if this Whitegate really was the solution they were looking for. But what was the alternative? They could wander for years, from one place to another, not really know where they were going, what they were doing. It was a sure fire way to lose all hope of ever finding somewhere safe to be. And that was why they had to keep going, had to keep moving.

  Wyvern had made a promise to Siren after their parents died at the hands of the Grayskins, that he would protect her always and forever, and get her to somewhere safe, a haven, so she might live and grow there, have a future.

  It was the last thought he had as he drifted to sleep. In fact, it was the last thought he had most nights before he surrendered to the abyss, always after Siren, so he knew she would be safe, at least for that moment.

  Upon waking, it would be a new day, and new dangers would have to be faced. Perhaps tomorrow they could rest assured that it wouldn’t be difficult, that they would have an easy time of it for a change.

  He was to be sorely disappointed.

  Chapter Six

  “GET UP you ungrateful ingrates!” Bo said through gritted teeth.

  He seized Wyvern and Siren by their shirts, a fistful of their clothing in his grasp, and slammed them against the wall. He was a big man and performed it with ease.

  “I let you into my home, into my bed, and this is how you repay me?” Bo yelled.

  “What?” Wyvern said, gripping Bo’s tight fist. “What’s happened?”

  “I’ll show you what’s happened!” Bo said. “As if you don’t already know!”

  He wrenched Wyvern and Siren off the wall. They hit the floor hard. Then he dragged them in the direction of his terminal.

  It was still dark, in the dead of night, but Siren felt like she had slept for a month. Then again, with this kind of wakeup call, it was difficult to wake up without feeling energetic. She kicked as she was dragged down the corridor.

  Bo was physically very powerful and dumped them on the floor of the Control Center. Red lights were flashing all over the terminal.

  “You brought some friends with you last night,” Bo said. “There’s a huge herd of Grayskins heading right for Brookdale. If they get here, they’ll tear us to shreds, even with our defenses.”

  “We had nothing to do with this,” Wyvern said. “Why would we want to destroy Brookdale? You’ve been nothing but kind to us.”

  “My thoughts exactly, but there’s no understanding a mind once it’s cracked,” Bo said. “I let you stay here, and you do this to us?”

  “No,” Siren said, using what little slack she had to approach Bo. “We didn’t. We didn’t do any of this. You must believe us.”

  Her voice was calm and soft, but also clear and powerful. Bo’s anger began to dissipate.

  “Be that as it may, we still have one hell of a horde of those things out there to take care of,” Bo said.

  “We’ll do anything we can to help,” Siren said. “What can we do?”

  “Keep quiet,” Bo said. “That’s what you can do. I need to concentrate.”

  The Grayskins were shambling, shuffling toward the town in their usual slow gait, getting closer by the second.

  “What could have gotten their attention in the first place?” Bo said.

  He was thinking out loud, but it was an interesting question. The Grayskins simply did not head toward something that did not get their attention.

  “What kind of defenses do you have in place?” Wyvern said. “You must have something to get rid of them.”

  Bo looked at Wyvern, and then his eyes moved to the side. They did indeed, but it was evidently something he hadn’t expected to have to use before now. He moved to a box on the wall. It looked like it had been newly installed.

  He pulled the keys out of his pocket and began sorting through them. One by one he counted them, and inserted one after another into the lock. Finally, after two attempts, the lock clicked open.

  Bo opened the door. There were three large round red buttons. He licked his lips.

  “Here goes nothing,” he said.

  He slammed his palm against the first one. There was a wheezing noise.

  Nothing happened.

  “What is that supposed to do?” Wyvern said.

  BOOM!

  An explosion, a quarter mile away if it was an inch. A fireball rose into the sky. Wyvern and Siren hadn’t expected the blast and pressed the palms of their hands to their ears. The herd of Grayskins, in unison, snapped their heads toward the noise and started moving. The noise and light spurred enough energy into them to get their attention.

  But not all of them.

  The bright orange-yellow glow from the fire died down, the sound diminishing.

  The herd lost interest, and turned to continue on their journey toward the town.

  “They’re still coming,” Wyvern said.

  “Sometimes they need an extra prod to get them going,” Bo said.

  He slapped his hand on the next red button.

  Another explosion. The windows rattled in their frames. The dirt dusted their heads. Closer to town this time.

  The herd paused again, turning to look back at the miniature mushroom cloud on the immediate horizon. This time the herd headed toward it, slow and shuffling.

  Bo visibly relaxed as he watched the rest of the Grayskins move away, breathing a sigh of relief when they were finally gone.

  “I swear, we had nothing to do with this,” Wyvern said.

  Bo eyed Wyvern up and down, and then relaxed.

  “No,” he said. “I suppose I can believe that. What kind of fool would drive a herd of Grayskins toward a town they were still in? It don’t make no sense to old Bo, that’s for sure.”

  “Bo, come in, over,” Dave said.

  Bo all but dived for the radio.

  “Dave!” Bo said. “Boy am I pleased to hear your voice, bud. It’s looking mighty hairy out there.”

  “The residents are beginning to stir,” Dave said on the other end of the radio. “They’ll be getting up soon.”

  “They’ll follow protocol and stay in their home,” Bo said. “
At least for the next hour. You know the rules. How are things your end?”

  There was a pause.

  “Dave?” Bo said. “We don’t have a second to waste. What do you suggest we do?”

  “Well, I don’t rightly know,” Dave said. “It’s a real Boromir situation. I’m afraid I’m about to experience a Frodo. I think it’s best if we let the townsfolk sleep till dawn.”

  Bo was crestfallen.

  “Yes,” Bo said, attempting—and failing—to inject a little levity into his voice. “Yes, I’m sure you’re right. Over.”

  Bo was listless as he put the radio back in its holder. His shoulders drooped and his arms fell to his sides.

  “I’m going to ask you both one last time,” he said. “Are you part of the Raiders, or aren’t you? Tell me the truth.”

  “We’re running from the Raiders,” Wyvern said. “That’s the honest truth.”

  “Then whether you knew it or not, you’re still working with them, even if it wasn’t as part of some kind of plan,” Bo said.

  “What do you mean?” Wyvern said. “Your friend on the radio said everything was okay. Didn’t he?”

  “Something’s wrong,” Siren said, cocking her head to one side. “Something isn’t quite right, is it?”

  “Yes,” Bo said. “We’re simple people here. But we aren’t stupid. We came up with a secret coding system that would allow us to inform each other if something is wrong without letting listeners know what we were saying. We are all fans of Lord of the Rings, and decided to base our system on that. Earlier, Dave said we had a Boromir situation. That means someone betrayed us. Then, when he mentioned experiencing a Frodo…”

  “It means he’s going to die,” Siren said.

  “Yes,” Bo said.

  “I don’t understand,” Wyvern said. “Why would Dave be about to die?”

  “Because the Raiders got inside the community and sneaked into Dave’s Control Center,” Bo said. “They did it while the Grayskins were heading toward town. It was a distraction that they themselves created. There’s something in the town they want.”

  “Us,” Wyvern said.

  “And all we have to do is hand you over to them,” Bo said. “And they’ll leave us alone.”