Worlds Collide: Sunset Rising, Book Two

by McEachern, S. M.

  On my way back to the waiting room, the sound of voices carried out from behind a door slightly ajar. I peered in as I walked by, surprised to see Gaia sitting beside a man lying in a bed. I stopped and backed up to get a better look.

  Doc left my mom’s room and came up behind me.

  “Who’s Gaia with?” I whispered to Doc.

  “Her husband,” he whispered back.

  My mouth dropped open. “How can he still be alive? He was sent to the range almost two years ago.”

  “The range is a fairly large area—five square kilometers, with lots of dark caves to hide in. At least the bourge gave them a sporting chance.” He continued down the hall and motioned for me to follow. I realized I was intruding on their privacy. “A few of the first group sent to the range made it out alive, but unfortunately their life expectancy isn’t good. They had to live off the land and they’re suffering from radiation poisoning.”

  “A couple of men were taking food to them from the corrals,” I said.

  “If their diet was supplemented, that explains why they’re not dead yet.”

  “It’s still a miracle, though.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at me. “If you believe in those.”

  I motioned for Summer to get on the back of the bike. She looked at it dubiously. “You know how to drive?”

  Jack and Ted had already claimed another bike parked along the street. Jack revved the engine, more for effect than anything, and raced away from the curb. He was on his way back to the house we shared, hoping squatters hadn’t taken up residence yet. I’d promised to meet him later.

  “Yes, I know how to drive. And if you’re nice to me, I’ll teach you tomorrow,” I lied. It didn’t matter if she was nice to me or not—I’d teach her anyway.

  She climbed on the back and I slid onto the front seat. I turned it to gas. It was faster that way.

  I drove along the road for a little while, and then turned the bike toward the open countryside. We didn’t have much time before the sun went down behind the mountain. I stopped as soon as I found a good boulder for us to sit on. I parked the bike and we both climbed off.

  “So what are we doing?” Summer asked.

  “Watching the sunset.”

  I sat down on the boulder and patted the rock next to me. She sat down too, although she was a little stiff about it.

  The sun was a bright orange, the bottom of the sphere already disappearing behind the mountain. As it sank lower, the orange began turning to red, streaking out on either side and filling the horizon with a fiery glow. I looked at Summer out of the corner of my eye. I was surprised to see a tear run out from under her glasses. I moved my hand to cover hers. The sun disappeared with a final flash.

  “Is he really gone?” Summer asked. “Is that monster really dead?”

  My heart grew heavy and a lump formed in my throat. I put my arm around her shoulders. “He’s gone. He won’t ever hurt you again.”

  Her shoulders began to shake with sobs and as her tears spilled, I held her. My own tears fell silently.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  …Ten Months Later

  The buzz of the alarm clock interrupted what was a perfectly good sleep. Jack rolled over and curled in behind me, threw an arm around my waist, and pulled me closer. I snuggled in.

  “Turn it off,” I suggested.

  “No. We’ll go back to sleep,” he mumbled against my ear.

  “That’s the point.”

  “Mmmmm…not today. It’s going to be fun.” Fun? I wasn’t sure how much fun going to an old, crumbling city looking for books, tablets and communication devices was going to be. But my husband, the avid historian, was excited to go. “If we go early enough, we can stop by your dad’s headstone.”

  It had been a few weeks since I went out there. My mom and I had found the perfect rock—it faced the sunset. And at night when the sun went down, the rock looked like it turned pink. Not that my dad was actually buried there. I had no idea where his body went…and I looked and asked everyone I could think of where someone who was tortured to death might find a resting place in the Dome. No one could answer me. In fact, according to the records, he wasn’t listed as deceased. The only reason I let my mother talk me into carving a headstone was in case he was alive and found his name there. It would be like a beacon, telling him his family was looking for him, and maybe he might stay by the rock waiting to be found. At first I checked every day…then every other day…and ten months later it stretched into weeks. So far, he was a no-show.

  My mother had already accepted he was gone. Apparently, their marriage hadn’t been a love match. Not that I should be surprised. There were few marriages in the Pit forged from love—most were out of necessity. But believing my parents were actually in love was like having an anchor in life. Love was a hard bond to break—it meant committing to each other forever. I just didn’t know that desperation and necessity could accomplish the same goal.

  Jack was softly snoring against my ear. I thought about giving him a nudge but decided not to. Even though the worst of winter was over, the spring mornings were still freezing and our bed was warm and cozy. I slid my hand over the back of his and pulled it closer to my chest. There was no place on the entire planet I would rather be.

  The movement stirred him. He drew in a deep breath and let it out while his strong arm pulled me even closer. “You’re trying to get out of this, aren’t you?” he asked drowsily.

  “I’m not the one still asleep.”

  I felt his lips curve into a smile. “You shouldn’t have kept me up so late.”

  It was my turn to smile. He didn’t complain last night. And I didn’t make love to him in the hopes of tiring him out for today—last night was all for me. It was just a bonus if he was too tired to get up and brave the freezing temperatures this morning.

  “Just five more minutes,” I said.

  He sighed dramatically to let me know he was disappointed, but rolled over, hit the button, and curled back around me. I shimmied closer.

  Maybe he still didn’t know that I would do anything he asked of me. And after all the nights he stayed up studying with me, I was happy to share in his passion for history. It had been a long school year. There were times I regretted letting him talk me into going to the Academy. I hadn’t had the educational background for it at first. In the Pit, we only received education to grade six, and once we turned twelve we entered the workforce. In the Dome, education went to grade twelve, and the kids from elite families were allowed an additional two years of finishing studies. The only reason I was able to get accepted into the Academy was because Jack spent night after night after night helping me prepare for the entry test. I passed. But then came the hard part—not flunking out. If not for my attentive, supportive, and extremely sexy husband staying up most nights to help me study, I probably would have.

  But all those nights of pulling my hair out in frustration, wanting to throw my books against the wall and yell what’s it all for? had been worth it, because today, the day after my final exam of my first year at the Academy, I could answer that question: I was gaining insight. I always envied Jack’s ability to forecast what the bourge were going to do next. And although I wasn’t quite the expert at it that he was, I was getting there.

  In the weeks following our liberation from the Dome, chaos had ruled. The bourge insisted that the city—all the homes and commercial buildings—belonged to them exclusively. They rationalized that the president used their taxes to build the city, and claimed ownership. The urchins disagreed. They rationalized that it was urchin labor that built the city, and since they were outside of the Dome the treaty wasn’t in effect. The bourge owed them. As tension between the two groups increased, fighting started to break out on the streets. Peopl
e began to carry guns at all times. But the worst of the violence occurred when a couple from the Pit were barricaded in the home they had claimed and it was set on fire. They died. The very next night, the Pit retaliated and burned a bourge family to death.

  It was out of control.

  With the threat of more violence looming large, Jack was finally able to convince General Powell that negotiations were the best way to ease tensions. The Pit could no longer be controlled by the military. The urchins were free to take up arms to not only defend themselves, but also possibly defeat the bourge and take control of the city. After all, they had the backing of the Alliance and that had General Powell’s attention.

  Since the president died with no visible heir to claim the title, the head of the military was next in line. Powell claimed temporary leadership, with the backing of his cronies Forbes and West, until a new government could be elected with equal representation from both sides. To say no one from the Pit was happy with the temporary leader would be an understatement. More than once, Molotov cocktails were thrown through the windows of his home, setting fire to more than just the curtains; it inflamed the ire of every supporter of the old regime. Fistfights breaking out in the street became common and within weeks the entire city pulsed with hostility. The election process was expedited.

  Nominations were taken from both sides and I was surprised that the Pit nominated Jack Kenner. Jack was surprised that they had not nominated me. I wasn’t. Not only had I just turned eighteen—although middle-aged by Pit standards—but a female leader was unheard of. That’s when Jack insisted I attend the Academy.

  Jack wasn’t a popular candidate among his own people. They distrusted him after seeing him as the president-in-training-turned-traitor. They questioned his role in President Holt’s death. Even though Holt had been in ill health, the people of the Dome wanted retribution for his assassination. When the Pit countered, looking for retribution for the suffering they endured under Holt’s control, the Dome dropped the subject. The ownership of a city was at stake and they weren’t about to waste their bargaining power on a dead president who had betrayed them. This came as quite a relief since it wasn’t just Jack I was worried about. I found out Summer was the reason for Holt’s illness.

  I knew something had been going on between Summer and Bron…and between Bron and my mother. Getting the truth out of them hadn’t been easy. They made me promise not to tell anyone—Jack included—that Bron had given Summer poison to put in President Holt’s drinks. Even if my mother hadn’t shot Holt, eventually he would have died anyway. Not that my mother felt bad about shooting a dying man. She said her only regret in life was refusing to give the poison to Holt herself when Bron approached her with the idea years ago. Like Bron told me—I wasn’t the first person to think of a revolt, I was just the most successful. I put it down to good timing.

  Voting Day was perhaps the most glorious day in our history. I’ll always remember it as the day we were truly liberated—urchin and bourge alike—from life under a brutal dictator. Long before the poll station opened, before the sun even rose, the line started. By the time the polls opened, the queue stretched for at least a kilometer. At the end of the day, Jack, Doc and David Chavez were elected to represent the Pit; General Powell, Malcolm West and Martin Kenner, Jack’s father, were elected to represent the Dome. Jack said the election results demonstrated how divided the bourge were, with the majority still supporting the old establishment.

  In the aftermath of the new government being formed, a cautious truce developed between the two factions. Although peace didn’t exactly reign, there was at least hope of resolving the issues.

  Doc was perhaps the most questionable elected representative. I was the one who nominated him and campaigned for others to back him too, even though he made it clear he didn’t want any part of the new government. But aside from Jack, he was the smartest person I had ever met, even if he was a little eccentric. He accepted my nomination on the condition I help him put together a militia—a covert underground (literally; Doc located his lab in the caverns) organization trained to carry out strategic strikes against an enemy in case our differences with the bourge came to war. Although I wasn’t supposed to discuss it with my bourge husband, I did of course. Jack called it “special ops” with a whiff of “terrorism” and we both agreed that if Doc was going to organize a militia, I should be there to keep it honest. I accepted the role.

  Uncurling my legs, I stretched them out, feeling the tightness in my calves. Doc had really put us through our paces with the new suits. A product of nanotechnology, Doc designed the suits to protect the wearer from an assault, including bullets. He said my injury from wearing a bulletproof vest coupled with my determination to free the Pit was the inspiration. In testing the suits, he wanted us to run, jump and do everything a human body was meant to do, while he analyzed the response from the nanorobots. It had gone on for hours, and I was still sore today.

  Reyes was part of this elite army, as were Raine, Micah, David, and Summer. Although Summer rarely showed up. It was difficult to get her sober and Doc was adamant about his army being clear-headed. He pointed to how easily the bourge had been defeated because they loved cocktail hour.

  The stupid alarm started buzzing and Jack’s body jerked at the sound. He had been asleep again.

  “That wasn’t five minutes,” I said.

  “I have it set for a three minute snooze.”

  “Then you owe me two minutes.”

  He laughed softly. “Not a chance. Get up.”

  “You’re not up.”

  “I’ll get up when you get up.”

  “Okay.” I smiled to myself and wedged closer to his warm body. I was good with staying here all day.

  “Nice try, Mrs. Kenner. Get up.”

  “Oooohhhh,” I moaned. “It’s so warm and you feel so nice. I don’t want to get up.”

  “It’s your turn to make coffee.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. He had made coffee for the past fourteen mornings, even after he had stayed up with me most nights studying for final exams. The man was a saint.

  “Okay,” I said in defeat.

  I pushed out of his arms, reaching for the side of our enormous bed. He grabbed me back against him. “Wait a minute,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To make coffee.”

  He nuzzled the soft spot between my shoulder and neck. “But we always say good morning before coffee.”

  I laughed softly and turned back around toward him. Twining my arms around his neck, I said, “Yes we do.”

  It was still dark in the house when I padded into the kitchen to make coffee. Jack was in the shower and the other occupants of the house were still asleep, so I was quiet. There were a few dirty dishes left on the counter and one of the glasses smelled like rum. Summer. I tried not to get angry. I did my best not to throw the glass against the wall. I concentrated instead on making coffee.

  Even though I was frustrated with her, I was glad Summer was living with us. After her parents ventured into the great outdoors for all of twenty minutes, they decided it wasn’t for them—too much risk of radiation poisoning. The sun was too bright and the wind too foreign. They weren’t the only ones who felt that way. There were many urchins and bourge who decided not to leave the safety of the Dome.

  Summer was more than happy to leave. In fact, she never wanted to go back inside. So even though I had taken up residence with Jack—one of the hated bourge—I still managed to persuade her to live with us. I guess we were the lesser of two evils. Now if I could just get her sober.

  Surprisingly, Jack’s parents also decided to remain in the Dome. Jack hypothesized a lot of reasons why they chose to do that—everything from his mom being scared, to his mom no
t wanting to give up control of the Dome. Personally I think it was because when the lottery was drawn for homes, their names were selected for an apartment. She was livid when the verdict was read. And her embarrassment over having an urchin for a daughter-in-law was obvious. She was pressuring Jack to take legal steps to have our fraud of a marriage dissolved. He just ignored her.

  Jack and I were exempted from the draw in recognition of our efforts in exposing Holt’s secret and opening the doors to the Pit. But it was such a big home, we both wanted to share it with the ones we loved. So my mom, Summer and Ted all moved in with us. Summer and my mom had the upstairs rooms and Ted occupied the lower level. We kept our room on the main floor.

  Jack came into the kitchen, his damp hair curling slightly and his cheeks pink from his hot shower. “Your turn,” he said. I handed him a cup of hot coffee and he gave me a long, appreciative kiss. “Make it a quick shower. We’re running late.”

  I knew what today meant to him and I wouldn’t make him late. I got ready in record time. When I returned to the kitchen, dressed in three layers of warm clothes including thick socks, I was surprised to find Ted up and ready to go.

  “Ted wants to go too,” Jack said.

  Ted acknowledged me with an early morning grunt.

  I liked Ted. He was quiet, usually preferring to play games on his tablet to socializing, but he was nice enough. And at least he liked me, or I think he did. He didn’t act like his parents, who were so painfully uncomfortable around me they tended not to acknowledge my presence. Ted talked to me.

  “So am I the only girl going?” I asked. I should’ve thought to ask Jin-Sook to come with us.

  “What about Summer?” asked Jack.

  “Um…she’s still asleep,” I said, shooting him a look that said you know why.

  Jack came close and whispered in my ear. “Maybe you could ask your sister,” he said with a laugh. My expression must have said it all, because the smile dropped off his face and he took a few steps back. I knew he was just trying to be funny—make light of the situation so I wouldn’t take it so seriously.