“I knew the same way I knew that you were coming for me.” He leaned back, letting the cuffs squeal as they dragged over the metal. Monroe winced and flexed his shoulders. “If I’m going to stay alive I have to keep on top of information.”
Monroe cleared his throat. “That didn’t seem to help you much in this situation.”
“I just trusted the wrong person.”
A soft smile spread over the other man’s lips. He must have enjoyed the thought of Markus’ betrayal. No doubt it made him feel really cunning, sly. There wasn’t any cunning involved here, though. Just an opportunistic man whose status as a “father” gave him more trust than he deserved.
“Will you be at the baby shower? If you are, give the little guy a kiss from his big brother.”
“Speaking of which.” Monroe leaned forward, that self-satisfied grin still in place. Someday, someone was going to shoot it off him. “You have a younger brother, don’t you? Quite skilled with technology, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Sure, when he’s not high or drunk. But you aren’t going to get anywhere with this.”
Monroe scratched his forehead. “Oh? You mean to tell me that you figured all this out by your lonesome?”
Starke leaned onto the table. “Do you have a family, Mr. Monroe?”
His eyebrows immediately furrowed. “Is that a threat?”
Laughing, Starke leaned back. “Would that work? No, it’s not. It’s a question.”
“I have a wife and a daughter.”
“And do you involve them in your work? Do you pass on government secrets to them, put them in danger?”
Monroe narrowed his eyes, his scruffy chin flexing as if he was clenching his teeth. Hard to tell, since he barely had much of a jaw to speak off. “Of course not, but I’m not a criminal.”
How do you argue with that? “Criminals love their families, too.” He shrugged. “I can’t convince you if you have already made a judgement, but you don’t have any reason to go after Cowl.” He cracked his knuckles, ignoring the pressure of the cuffs against his wrists. “And if I’m not mistaken, Cowl is probably more important to Bunker than ten of you. So, I’d suggest you proceed wisely.”
The words found their mark. Monroe flushed, anger creasing his features. “You know…you..” He sputtered for a moment, his face getting darker and darker with each passing moment. Apparently he wasn’t used to being criticised by his prisoners.
It made sense. Most people in this position were trying to live. That wasn’t an option for Starke, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to spend the last minutes of his life scrambling for a scapegoat or begging for mercy. Especially not from this sad excuse for an authority figure.
As long as they didn’t look at Cowl. As long as they had someone less valuable to pin to the wall. That was enough reason for Starke to go down without a fight.
“You know, if they wanted to scare me into a confession, they should have picked someone a bit more intimidating.” He grinned at the puffing little man on the other side of the table.
“You’re going to die. You know that, right?”
“Feeble.” Starke lifted both hands to push his hair out of his face. “But I can appreciate the effort.”
“Guards!” Monroe yelled, standing up so quickly that the chair fell on the floor with an obnoxiously loud bang.
The door swung open behind them, but Starke didn’t take his eyes off Monroe. This is the moment he should feel afraid, right? The last moments. The march to the gallows.
Why could he only feel smug?
“We aren’t going to get anything from this guy. Get him out of here!” Monroe said, lips curled back over yellowed teeth.
No, they weren’t.
Standing slowly, Starke offered Monroe as dramatic a bow as he could manage with his arms secured in front of him. Might as well end it all with a bit of style.
“I’m ready, Cedar.” Starke gave him a brief nod as he walked towards the door. Whether or not it was true was yet to be seen.
With a long suffering sigh, Cedar turned to follow, slipping a hand over Starke’s elbow. It was just a show. He had to know as well as Starke did that he wasn’t going anywhere but where they wanted.
If only one of them would speak. In the building silence, it was impossible to ignore the memories that flashed in his head. Mostly the memories of Mom sobbing, and Cowl’s confident words He’ll be back.
This had all started because he wanted to save Cowl from the heartbreak of loss. He didn’t want Cowl to connect to Markus, because there was no way it could end in anything but sorrow. But here he was, breaking the poor kid’s heart himself.
Then again, after what Markus had done, maybe keeping him out of Cowl’s life had saved more than just his emotions. And as long as Markus had his new family to keep him happy, maybe he would stay away.
They turned towards a wide, armored door. The kind that held massive vehicles and armed men. It seemed to take forever for the doors to pull apart, like a mouth opening. They wouldn’t make a big deal out of this, would they?
Never once in his life had Starke seen a public execution. People just disappeared. And that’s what he wanted. No enemy eyes watching. No word gone out to friends and family. Just death.
The room inside was pretty much as he expected it to be; an enormous, half-crescent with vaulted, unadorned ceilings. Rovers, like the ones they used in the first person shooter Sims, lined up against a long curve of the left wall. White lines tracked across a simple, riveted metal floor. On the right, a few guards leaned over a broad console and flicked through images of the barren surface and detailed models of the aliens that had destroyed it.
This was an odd place for an execution. Not what he had imagined. Not that he had spent too much time envisioning his death. He’d always just figured it would be a scavenger in the Pit, or a fall from the platforms.
The guards didn’t pause for a moment, leading him through the utilitarian room. Ahead, the ceiling tapered down abruptly, turning into a low, wide hallway. At the end the thick, metal door of an airlock waited.
Were they sending him up? Feeding him to a Wrecker?
The floor seemed to fall away and he stumbled, nearly falling. The guards slowed down, turning heavy eyes on him. If they had rushed him, he might have very well panicked.
He had reason to…right?
But Cedar, dark eyes never leaving Starke’s face, held a hand out to keep the other guard back.
Starke dragged in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. A thousand needles raced through his bloodstream, shoving through his skin. His shoes adhered to the floor. He swallowed and knives plunged down into his gut.
It was really happening.
It took all the strength Starke had to peel his foot off the floor and take a step forward, and there were a dozen more steps ahead.
The world around him swirled, collapsing into a black hole and the door that rushed towards him. Death. Real, actual death. Not just the distant threat of it, or the worry that kept him up at night on a rare occasion.
And what was going to be left of him?
The airlock opened. How had they gotten there? He couldn’t remember those last few steps. On his left, the guard reached for his gun, his eyes narrowing. They could see the fear, too. They had probably seen it all too often.
Cedar squared off to Starke. He wasn’t a big man, but the few inches he had on Starke might as well have been miles. He could try fighting but if he did… No.
No, this was it. Every choice he’d made had led up to this moment. He could have kept his head down, worked his job and let life do what it would, but he’d chosen another path. He’d chosen it for Mom. For Cowl. And when life had come for them anyway, he stood in the way.
And now, he was dying a rebel’s death. There was something to be proud of in that. He might not have saved those lives in the Farming Tier, but he hadn’t just looked away when danger came. Not like Markus had. Mom and Cowl were going to be fine. They had enough
money to stay in the Hub for a while, stay safe. Cowl could handle it from there.
As for him? It was a short life, but not a bad one. Better than most people here could ask for. He wasn’t a coward. He was there when it mattered. He’d lived with his head held high and he would die the same.
“I’m ready,” he said.
Cedar nodded and pulled the cuffs from Starke’s wrists. “I’m real sorry about this, Starke,” he said.
Starke shook his head. “Don’t be. I did the right thing. I’m not sorry.”
After a long moment of silence, Cedar cleared his throat and stepped aside. “I’ll keep an eye on Cowl for you, make sure he’s ok.”
Starke fixed his gaze on the dark space just beyond the open door. “I appreciate it but he’ll be fine. He’s strong.” Shoving aside the hint of fear that still lingered in his mind, Starke stepped forward, ducking automatically as he passed the threshold.
“Hey, Starke,” Cedar called as Starke took his place inside the cylindrical room, so similar to the ones he’d passed through every day since he could remember. “When the door opens, look up.”
Look up?
Starke turned, but the door was already closing. The lights flared, chasing the shadows out of the airlock as the door slid shut. The solid thump as they locked into place reverberated through his entire body.
A mechanical voice came through the radio, the same he’d heard so many times. A warning against radiation and more. He’d ignored it most of his life, and now each word was like a whole new language, garbled and distant.
What did other men do at this point? Did they die pressed up against the inner door in desperation? Did they cry for mercy, the tears frozen to their cheeks?
Starke stuffed his hands into the loose pockets of his sweatpants. At least he could die with both hands to himself.
A pneumatic moan filled the small room and a hiss as the oxygen escaped. The temperature dropped, ripping at his skin as it rushed out. He struggled to suck in a breath, but the air was already thin, stiff.
He wasn’t even shivering. The outer doors opened, and everything went still, completely silent.
For a moment pain washed over him, enveloping every inch of his being. He stepped forward, forcing his stiffening legs to move, though his skin seemed to be cracking, splintering, with each step.
Then the pain evaporated as abruptly as it came and Starke looked up.
Above him a twin set of doors rolled back to reveal the sky. Black as ink, interrupted with a few blurry points of light that pierced through his very soul. Stars.
Starke didn’t need to breathe, not when faced with this. Nothing he’d seen in his life could compare. The darkness was satin, soft, and thick, like a deep bed where he could sleep forever.
The longer he looked, the more stars lept out, shooting across the shadows like tiny dancers. They whirled and spun and rushed down towards him.
Warmth flooded his chest, seeping into every vein like starfire. Heaven stared back down at him, opening up until even the universe seemed too small to hold it in.
Starke fell to his knees. Heat filled his eyes as he smiled. The stars rushed down on him.
This is what he’d been missing his whole life? This majesty, this infinity. Even just a hint of it was bigger than anything he’d ever known. He’d been living in a locked closet and the door had just opened into eternity.
The sky poured into the tiny hole and embraced him, rushing into him and filling him until there was nothing left but beauty.
From the Author
Dear Reader,
If I did my job correctly, you are having trouble reading this right now because of the tears in your eyes. Because of that I’ll try to keep this short and sweet.
You, the reader, mean more than I could ever express to me. Because when you pick up this book and read it, you are making my dreams reality. And I don’t say that lightly. Thank you!
If you want to drop me a note and tell me what you think, even if it’s just telling me off for being so very cruel, please drop a note by my email at [email protected]
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Until next time,
J.E. Purrazzi
[email protected]
Infraction Page 8