daynight

by Megan Thomason

  “Shut up or I’ll kill the girl,” my father says, pressing the gun harder against Kira’s head.

  “Really? Because if finding out that you lied about his mom won’t kill your relationship, I really can’t guarantee your son will ever support you or your cause if you execute his girlfriend.” The look on my dad’s face is priceless as he tries to absorb that nugget of information. I guess I’d failed to mention my relationship with Kira expanded beyond plain old partners.

  “Is that true?” my father asks Kira. “Are you involved romantically with my son?”

  “Sorry, I missed that. What are you accusing me of? I can’t hear with the gun shoved in my ear,” she says. He keeps hold of her, but shifts the gun ever so slightly away from her head and repeats his question. That’s just the opportunity I need to create a more significant diversion without risking her life.

  I remove the security guard’s gun from my pants, release the safety, and aim for the glass mosaic directly behind my father. Then I pull the trigger and watch as thousands of shards of glass rain down on the crowd below.

  The diversion works. My dad loses his grip on Kira as he spins around to see the source of the explosion and starts firing shots wildly. Ethan tackles Kira, pushing her to the ground so he can act as a human shield. I see blood oozing from Ethan’s shirt. He may have been hit by a bullet. By the time my father realizes the rain of glass was meant to distract him and jolts back around, Brad Darcton shoots my father. The force of the bullet puts a grapefruit-sized hole through my father’s heart. Dead on impact. His lifeless body falls to the floor.

  The execution of my father causes a domino effect. A Militant shoots Brad Darcton in revenge. Then one of Brad’s security personnel shoots the Militant. Brad’s still down, but I can’t tell where he was hit. Security forces rush and secure Brad’s body and the area. While there, they grab Ethan and Kira and whisk them out to safety.

  After that it’s an all-out slaughter, with the Militants outnumbered at least five to one. I see some of the Militants drop their weapons and try to blend with the HQ employees, but most get outed by residents who saw them with guns. When both sides start shooting at the glass in my direction, I scramble up the stairs to the third level, use my passkey to enter the floor, and run for the back stairs and down to the safety of the tunnels.

  The problem is that the tunnels are used to evacuate important SCI personnel to safety in case of emergency. I see a group of security goons escorting a group. I’m in the open with no place to hide. And this group includes Ethan and Kira. Ethan’s shirt is off and he’s using it to apply pressure to his wound. Showoff.

  “There you are,” Ethan says. “I worried you might have been amongst the injured.” To his security escort he adds, “He works with me. We were together in the crowd, but I lost him when I went for Kira.” Why would he help me? Guilt over his father killing mine?

  “I barely escaped. Two of those beasts were after me,” I say, playing along.

  “Let me see your headquarters passkey,” the security guard says. I show him and he nods to accept me into their brigade. Kira starts to drag as if she can’t handle the hike and within minutes we’re at the back of the group. The security detail’s way more concerned about the Council members than us, so leave us alone as we march.

  “You’ve got to get out of here,” Kira whispers to me. “Once they figure out who you are… given the number of dead up there… they’ll blame you.”

  “I know. I wasn’t exactly planning to run into company,” I say. “I’ll ditch you at the next intersection. I know where we are.”

  “I’m sorry about your dad,” she says. “About all of them.”

  “You were right about it being a futile cause,” I say. “I just had to try to help. But when I saw the way my father carried out his plan—by executing innocent people—well, I couldn’t support that. So, I got them all killed by bringing down that glass wall.”

  “That was you?” Ethan says. I nod. “Great timing. But, the deaths aren’t your fault. That would have happened anyway with the security detail surrounding the Militants.”

  “Maybe you are right and that the outcome was inevitable. Doesn’t make it any less hard,” I say. I slump my shoulders, feeling the heaviness of the burden I’ll have to carry for the rest of my life.

  “Thank you. What you did… probably saved both our lives,” Kira says as she brushes her hand against mine.

  “I’m sorry,” Ethan says to me. “About my father… what he did to your dad.”

  “Your dad paid the price of the conflict as much as my father did,” I say.

  “Perhaps,” he says.

  “Is your arm okay?” I say, motioning towards the wound.

  “It’s just a graze. I’ll be fine,” he says, though I can tell he’s gritting his teeth.

  “Time for me to take off,” I say. “I’ll see you soon,” I add to Kira.

  “Hope so,” she says.

  And with that I dash to the right and sprint to the next bend where I take a left and head towards the exit I’d found through the Council residence previously. I should have told her I still care about her, but until things settle down I’m poison to her. It sucks to have to leave her in Ethan’s care, though. His perfect, nice-guy, risk-his-life-to-save-hers deal is pissing me off.

  Once through the trap door and into the residence, I listen for sounds but there are none. I check by the front door and see two decimated dead bodies, likely executed by my father. Seeing the couple conjures up images of the hundreds massacred at Headquarters. I splash some water on my face, and grab the victims’ tablets so I can look for information and track time. Thankfully the owners had left their tablets logged on. After, I settle back into the closet and allow myself to mourn my losses.

  I find maps of the tunnels on Walter Hunt’s tablet, Walter being the homeowner. The maps prove to be useful since staying at a murder scene doesn’t seem too wise. It’ll be a while before officials finish with the mayhem at Headquarters and fan out to search residences, but with the number of forces that magically appeared out of nowhere, I can’t count on a long reprieve. After studying the maps I decide where to go.

  My father had been right. The tunnels do extend all the way to student residences. I take the ‘long way’ back to my school, hoping to run into as few people as possible in some of the outer tunnels. It’s eerily silent the entire way, other than creaking and squeaking sounds. All security personnel must be at Headquarters, but there’s plenty of rats and even some large bearded lizards to keep me company.

  When I reach the narrow tunnels that lead to school residences I’m pleased to see small markings to indicate which trap door leads to which residence. It’s a sketchy hour to make an entry—middle of the day—but I don’t hesitate to intrude. The trap door leads to the back of the kitchen pantry and as I swing it inward, the shelves and food move with it. Leaving the door open so I can get back out, I remove duct tape from my backpack and tear off two mouth-sized pieces and then two larger pieces to secure hands.

  I tiptoe into the sole bedroom in the residence and am pleased to see the occupants sound asleep. I’m able to get the duct tape on without much struggle, but it does wake them both up. Thank goodness they’re clothed. After removing both their watches and turning on the light, I bring my finger to my mouth to encourage them to be quiet and motion them to follow me. They look a little angry, but comply. I lead them back into the tunnel where I’m fairly certain our conversation can be private and have them sit down.

  “I apologize for the midday invasion,” I say. “But everything we say in our own homes is monitored by the government and I wanted our conversation to be private. If I remove the duct tape from your mouths do you promise to be quiet and listen to what I have to say? I promise that I’m not here to physically hurt you, but to give you information that you need to know.” They both nod and I remove the duct tape. From the shrieks they let out, it must’ve hurt to pull it off. Bummer.

  “
Ow. What the hell, Blake?” Tristan says. “You better start explaining yourself fast.” He looks like he wants to kill me. Get in line.

  “I will. It’s a bit of a long story, so just calm down,” I say.

  “I’ll freaking calm down when you explain what’s so important that you need to kidnap us in the middle of the day and drag us into this nasty, smelly dark place,” he says.

  “Did you ever wonder why you guys are called Second Chancers?” I ask. Both shake their heads sideways to indicate they don’t. “Well, it’s time you both partook of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge.”

  “Huh?” Bri says.

  “You both have very interesting pasts that you can’t remember. So I’m going to fill in the gaps for you. Starting with the fact that you lived and died elsewhere before being given a second chance here on Thera,” I say. I tell them everything, start to finish, as best I know from what Kira’s told me about them including the pertinent details about what they did to her on Earth. Bri soaks it all in, but Tristan looks skeptical throughout.

  When I’m finished telling them the whole story, Tristan chimes in first. “It all sounds like a bunch of crap you made up.”

  “No, I think he’s telling the truth,” Bri says. “I got chills. The whole thing rings true.”

  “You got chills because it’s freezing!” Tristan says. Funny. It’s a humid eighty-five or ninety degrees in the tunnel, but to a Theran that feels cold.

  “What if we really did all that stuff to Kira, Tristan?” Bri says. “We’d deserve to die for it.”

  “He’s just trying to give us a guilt trip over Cleaving before they had a chance,” Tristan says. I watch them banter back and forth for a while before inserting some well-needed advice.

  “Well, don’t take my word. By all means, spread the news, gather your friends, and go ask the powers than be at Headquarters about it,” I say.

  That should keep the remaining Ten and Council members occupied while I figure out my escape plan.

  For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.

  Ralph Waldo Emerson

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Kira

  “You asked to see me?” I say, entering Vienna Darcton’s executive office on the sixth floor of the Headquarters. An armed security guard delivered me here. He made sure to take me past the masses of dead bodies on the way up—an object lesson in the perils of rebellion. The blood, body matter, and stench struck me like an oncoming train.

  It’s been twenty-four hours since Ethan saved me and we were evacuated to an underground stronghold. Since then security forces have secured the city and city officials have returned to Headquarters to assess the damage.

  The commander of the security forces briefed officials in the stronghold. Only three of the Ten remain. Sixty percent of the Grand Council members were executed—either within their homes or at Headquarters before security forces intervened. Fifty-seven additional innocents lost their lives. Husbands or Wives of the Ten or Grand Council. Headquarters employees. City residents who were caught in the crossfire, when the battle expanded beyond Headquarters. Two hundred seventy-seven Militant Exilers perished, with others wounded and captured.

  Everyone within the city had been tracked down and afforded the opportunity by security forces to present proper credentials proving they were Garden City residents. If they couldn’t do so and no other resident could vouch for them, interrogations, followed by executions happened on the spot. Those who were vouched for by Cleaveds, friends or family await confirmation in lockup. Whether Blake’s alive or dead I have no idea. He disappeared in the tunnels with a promise to see me later. The security commander didn’t mention specifically searching the tunnels, which are only accessible by official passkeys, so I’m holding out hope.

  “Yes, Kira. Please have a seat,” she says. I sit in a lush green velvet guest chair in front of her large mahogany desk and admire the view of the canyon lights. While I wait for her to explain why she summoned me, I chew on my finger. She looks at me in disgust for my nervous habit and says, “We’ve been unable to locate your partner, Blake, despite our city-wide manhunt. Do you have any idea where he might be?” Thank goodness. At least he’s still alive.

  “Honestly, I don’t,” I say. “I haven’t seen him since yesternight.”

  “A security guard claims to have seen him with you and Ethan in the tunnels during the evacuation,” she says.

  “No,” I say. “There was some colleague of Ethan’s, but he went back to see if he could find his Cleave when he saw she wasn’t with us.” Ethan and I had discussed how we’d handle questions about Blake if asked. She narrows her eyes, clearly doubting my answer.

  “I understand your desire to protect him, Kira, but given his father’s role in the Exiler attack on the city, we need to speak with him,” she says. I stare into her bright green eyes and feel the same contempt I’ve felt from Blake lately. A good time to change the subject.

  “Mrs. Darcton, I am really sorry about your loss. It must be terrible for you. Can I ask you though—what did your Cleave mean about Blake’s dad being his real dad, but that his mom wasn’t?” I ask. The statement kept me up all day, as I’m sure it did Blake.

  I watch Vienna’s face closely for clues on two fronts. First, to see how she reacts to my statement about her loss. Although it has been widely reported that Brad Darcton died from the gunshot wound he received, I know he was wearing body armor and security ushered him out quickly. To this, she does genuinely look upset. Second, I’m curious about how much she knows about Blake. Her expression is contemplative, as if she’s deciding how much she wants to share.

  “His parents used the Assisted Pregnancy process to get pregnant, just as all Therans do. A donor egg was used to insure he had Original blood,” she says.

  “Can I ask who his mother is?” I say. She looks away and it’s apparent she’s not going to give me an answer, although I can tell she knows. After a moment, she turns to me again.

  “It’s likely Blake will come to you,” she says. “If so, I need you to persuade him to turn himself in.” I start to laugh, but then cover it up with a fake cough.

  “I have a poor track record of convincing Blake of anything. If he comes to me I’m happy to try—if you promise me that you will spare his life, no matter what the circumstances. He’s not like his father. He must take after his mother,” I say, trying to strike a nerve. She turns her chair around to look outside for quite some time before turning around to face me again.

  “I’ll agree to spare Blake’s life if you agree to stay on Thera and submit to the will of the Ten and Grand Council,” she says. I think to myself that she means the ‘Three’ and the ‘Less Grand Council,’ but don’t voice my snarky thoughts. The decision requires little thought. Blake lives if I do what she wants. No brainer. Every time I’ve rebelled horrible things have happened. This time I’ll happily comply to keep the people I care about alive.

  “Yes,” I say. “I’ll agree to those terms.”

  “Even if that means that you and Blake won’t have a ‘happily ever after’?” she asks.

  “Yes. I think I’m well past the fantasy of a happily ever after,” I say.

  “I’ll count on you to keep your word. Besides Blake, you have a lot of family now on Thera—Jared, your parents, and all those babies—who will benefit if you do,” she says. She does threats as well as her husband, although I do sense she has more heart than he did or she wouldn’t have agreed to spare Blake.

  I mask my disgust of her threats with a small smile. “Yes. My family is here now.”

  “How’s Ethan?” she asks.

  “Physically, he’s okay. He was grazed by a bullet, but we managed to get the bleeding stopped quickly. Emotionally, I’d expect he’s devastated. Seeing his father kill Blake’s to spare my life and then be shot by an Exiler. It was terrible,” I say.

  As much as I despised Brad Darcton, he did do
what he did to save me. Well, I’m sure to make a definitive statement to the Militant Exilers, too, but his actions did save my life. “Both your Cleave and your son saved my life. I’m grateful.” My gratitude will only go so far. She and the rest the SCI still need to pay for their actions.

  “Ethan cares for you deeply,” she says. “He would have sacrificed his own life for yours yesternight.”

  “I know,” I say, blushing a little. Both Blake and Ethan did their part to save me with little thought about themselves. It blows me away and I feel unworthy of either’s affections. I spent the entire day tending to Ethan’s wound, and then together we mourned the dead. It took three armed security guards to persuade me to leave and bring me here.

  A knock on the door interrupts our conversation.

  “We have a situation,” the security forces commander says. He looks at me suspiciously, but Vienna encourages him to continue. “The plaza is filled with Second Chancers demanding answers about their ‘previous lives.’” My eyes go wide. Somehow I don’t think the Second Chancers having newfound knowledge is by chance. Someone broke the cardinal rule. And unfortunately, I think I know how Blake spent his day—and it wasn’t sleeping. This will definitely test my deal with Vienna Darcton.

  All the Mass Cleaved have filled the plaza and don’t seem to be dissuaded by the security forces pointing guns at them. Those girls are carrying my babies so the situation’s making me pretty nervous, given the massacre I saw yesternight. All the questions you’d expect are being shouted from the crowd:

  “Why can’t I remember anything before February?”

  “How did I get here?”

  “Is it true that I died?”

  “Was my name the same?”

  “Where’s my family? Who are my parents?”