Whatever I shovel into my mouth is mushy and lands with a plop on my tongue. Some egg product that’s hard around the edges. After I finish them off, I pile in something else without bothering to look at it.
I’m head down, shoulders hunched over my breakfast, trying to avoid eye contact and the scolding glare of sunshine streaming in through the small window.
Tripp buzzes in my ear with polite conversation, while Kiwi and I mumble and grunt, eyes averted, making it obvious that something is up.
I’m betting we’ll both deny it.
Oscar pecks seeds from the wooden table, adding rhythm to the grunts, mumbles, and murmurs.
Compound Six pulled out all the stops for our last meal. Okay, the eggs are nasty, but there is fresh fruit. I shovel it in, but barely taste it.
A blur of movement across the table catches my gaze. Wooden legs scrape on linoleum, and Kiwi’s chair clacks back into the wall behind her. She scurries out like a raccoon after a trashcan dinner.
Tripp clears his throat, then drives a foot into my shin.
“Mm!” My leg jerks back. I glance up, and throw my hands in the air. “The fuck?”
He’s leaned over, face pinched and flushed. “You two… You fucked last night?” He scoffs.
I drop my fork onto my plate and wipe my mouth. “Burn one this morning?” Turning to Oscar, I ruffle his plume of grey feathers and chuckle. “And also, mind your business.”
“You two,” Tripp stammers. “So stupid. Why not stick it to one of the skank army all over you last night?”
I gaze back over at him, my lips pressed tight, eyes steady. “Mind your business, shoestring.”
His mouth gapes, big ass ears flushed. “Do you. . .” He laughs. “Do you like her?”
I just stare. The longer I gaze at him, the tighter his face pinches together. He starts to look like a skeletal Cabbage Patch doll. I whistle, scratch Oscar’s head, and then look away.
Tripp sighs. “Look, songbird. Don’t get attached to her, okay?”
No emotion twitches in my face, but it takes effort. I want to ask why. Then, I shake the question off because it’s not an issue. She hates me. I’m a little scared off her ass.
I’m good.
I still want him to explain, but instead he stands up. A throat clears behind me. I twist in my chair, and something presses against my chest.
Juliet is standing in front of me. she motions Sadie toward me. A half smile is on the kid’s lips, and she inches forward.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Juliet says. “And Tripp…” She removes an envelope from her front pocket. “Can you deliver this to Ms. Grunder?”
I notice Juliet never uses Kiwi’s first name. She likes to use first names with everyone else. Maybe it’s the stripper origin of names like Kiwi. With a sigh, I try to stop thinking. Try an easy smile as I stand, Oscar swooping to my shoulder.
“Come outside with me,” I say, placing a hand on Sadie’s narrow shoulder. As I lead her toward the front porch, my Kevlar suit, designed to feel like part of my skin, is hard to move in.
Sitting next to Sadie, I tap my fingers against my knees. My mouth flops open. Closed. Open. Closed. I stretch out my fingers, then turn to her. She stares at me, mouth twisted to the side, and I laugh.
Her features drop. Eyes roll. “Are you having meltdown?”
I shake my head and hold up my hand. Expelling a quick breath, I force out the rest of the laugh.
“Willyouchangeyourmind?” A hiccup bounces from her throat.
I lower my hand and sigh. “I can’t.”
She hugs herself and I reach out and lightly shake her. I don’t want to hurt the cyborg arm.
I half grin. “Your new limb looks badass.” I cup my hand under her chin and force her to look at me. “I need to tell you something.” My voice doesn’t come out as even as I want. I clasp my fingers together and sniff. “Shorty… you deserve to know that killing your mother…” Something thick coats my throat, like maple syrup. I clear it out and say, “I’ve never regretted anything more in my life than—than taking her away from you.”
I manage to say the words without my voice shaking, but I feel raw. Exposed. Sadie pushes my hand away, then leans over and toys with her shoes. Her tongue clucks in her mouth, and I wait.
Engines explode in the air. Our surroundings rattle as the noise sputters down to a tiny roar. I glance at the armored convoy. Buzz cuts load black duffels. Cased weapons. Food rations.
“It was easier to hate you for it.”
Sadie’s voice guides my attention back to her face. I tilt my head to the side.
“Because I couldn’t hate her… She was fuc…”
My eyes narrow, and she clucks her tongue again.
“She was dead. So I couldn’t…”
I scoot over and drape my arm around her. “It’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling.”
She shakes her head.
I lick my bottom lip. “Well, you do whatever you need to. But I’m a grown man, and I was angry. So, if it’s hard for me to understand suicidal people… I can’t imagine what it’s like for you. And when I saw you, and her… I thought I could help, so I…”
“Called her.” Her lips twitch with the start of a smile, before pressing into a hard line. “She was the best she’d ever been after. Attentive… Not always in tears.” She sighs and shakes her head. “Maybe I hate you both.”
I pull her against me. “That’s okay.”
She turns to meet my gaze. “You promise me.” Her face struggles between expressions. “You can’t leave me alone here. You make it back.”
The door creaks behind us. Bumbling footsteps. Long shadows loom in front of us. Sadie seals herself in closer to me.
“It’s time, Pike,” Juliet says.
“Wait!” She fumbles in my pocket and pulls out the aquamarine bracelet. “Take this. You’ll need it more.”
I start to shake my head, but she forces the bracelet onto my wrist. She lifts her head and smiles as her hand reaches and tugs at her ponytail. A move I’ve watched her do after each of her competitive skates. Right before the scores were given.
I reach out to ruffle Oscar’s feathers. “You take care of each other.” As I struggle to my feet, I pull her with me and up into my arms.
She pushes her face into the side of my neck. Lose strands of hair tickle my face.
“I don’t hate you.”
Her words light a flash of clarity in my mind. The reality that those are the last words I might hear from her.
For a nano second, I consider telling her I might die. I lower her to her feet and ruffle her head. I smile, big. Goofy. Chill. She turns to Oscar and giggles as he pecks her ear.
Tripp mutters something. Kiwi clomps down the stairs. I wave at Sadie; an Enforcer leads her off. Then, Juliet is pulling me away. I feel heavy, like I’m wrapped in a layers of free weights.
My thoughts swarm like worker bees. Then something falls away. I’m pushed inside one of the vehicles. My teeth dance from the engines vibration. We start to move, the wheels rolling over gravel, and everything comes to me in a haze.
The buzz of the front gates lock mechanism. The squeal as the gates open to let our convoy through. My hearing doesn’t sharpen until those gates close behind us.
I feel the weight of not being behind those gates.
A slight sting digs into my neck.
“Ah!” I raise my hand to inspect. Cool metal digs into my wrists. I jerk both my arms. I’ve been cuffed to my seat. “Fuck is this?” I spray saliva everywhere. Before I can go off, I sink into a hole of Arctic pain. The pain jabs at me. Into my sides. I twist in my seat, my vision clouding, my thoughts rush from here to there.
“I’m sorry,” Kiwi says in a hushed voice.
“What did you inject me with?” I squeeze my armrests until my knuckles start to cramp. I try and turn my head. I try…
Kiwi leans over me and places a rectangular device in front of me, and then taps the screen.
I blink, trying to focus my eyes on her. “You dosed me with monkshood? Why?”
Her answer fizzles out under the weight of the burning under my skin. I open my mouth. My throat burns. Agony.
Colonel Jax flickers onto the screen. His baldhead and trench coat flicker a few seconds before they sharpen.
My eyes widen. What is this?
“Hello, Mr. Richards,” he whispers.
My mouth twists down, hard.
“Now that this mission is active, I just wanted to tell you a few things I neglected.” He leans back, and a table comes into view. “One, the tracker in your neck will release a surprise into your blood should you decide to go off mission.” He smiles. “And last.” He lifts his hand and waves forward someone off screen.
Two buzz cuts appear at his side. They wrangle with a smaller, flailing form. Jax stands. Sadie’s face, lips twisted in defiance, takes his place.
My mouth gapes. What is this? Something bad. Something…
Colonel Jax lifts a needle. Sadie’s head is slammed down, and the screen slows.
“No! No!” My voice thunders out of me. I jerk against the restraints, snapping the left one. “You motherfuckers!”
He lifts her head. Her eyes are gone, turned to blind, white marbles.
“She’s infected. The virus was taken from one of the tamer specimens. The ones we can most likely salvage.” He grins again. “Toe the line, Mr. Richards. Sadie needs you to remember where you stand.”
I slam my head into the tablet. The glass spider webs, then goes blank. For several moments, I sit in stunned silence.
“Juliet,” I say, my tone like the edge of a razor. “You knew about this?”
She turns from where she’s seated beside Tripp. “Yes.”
Evil fucking Enforcer bitch. My nostrils flare. I shut my eyes. I don’t want to look at her.
With my eyes still closed, I say, “Give me the key.”
Her movements feel like coals being tossed on top of me. With each one, I burn with more hatred. She undoes one of my wrists. The key clanks down on the table in front of me. I force my eyes open, snatch the key, and release my other wrist.
The herbal infusion has burned out of my blood
Remember where you stand, I recall his words and almost smile.
I’m sorry, Kiwi’s words jab back at me.
Without looking at, her I say, “Why did you do it?” I remember Juliet’s orders to Tripp.
Take this to Ms. Grunder.
The enclosed space goes still, apart from the occasional intake of breath. A cleared throat. After I wait for an answer longer than I should have to, I make myself look at Kiwi. Each muscle in my neck pinches.
Kiwi just swipes her bang behind her ear and stares ahead. From the driver seat, Tripp sighs.
“Tell him, Kiwi,” he says.
She doesn’t say anything. Coward. I almost laugh at her. Then, an alarm blares. My gaze darts forward. Scornful orange light fills my vision. Another boom. Another lurch, and tires screech to the side of the road right before we roll over.
From inside the car, Tripp moves fast. Flips a few switches. A rush of air and a clank clank clank sound drown out our grunts and curses. The hydraulics force the vehicle right side up. We sway, then sink into the ground. The clack of the 16-guage steel panels adds a second shield to the bombproof coating.
The next collision rocks us, but the ole girl stands her ground. A monitor mounted to the middle dash up front lets us witness the fire and lightning storm. Bolts of silver stab the dead landscape. The sky spits wrecking balls off fire to the ground.
The gods are rumored to be back, Kenya had told me before the Presenting.
Looks like they aren’t happy. They aren’t happy for several moments. I go back to ticks. It’s seventy-two ticks later that the orbs of fire get sucked back into the sky.
Tripp wipes his forehead. His face is flushed in the rear view as he flips the switches again. The panels shutter back into their slots. I gaze out the window and sink into my seat like a deflated doll.
The engine roars, and we swing back onto the road.
Snapshots of hell roll by, and something in me falls away. I thought I had seen bad before I went into hiding. Riots and herds of fear on every TV screen. On every social site. Commercial airplanes crashing. Executions going viral.
But that was not bad. Not displayed beside this. This is the world I left sucked into itself and spat back out into wastelands.
Blackened pools of water. Billowing smoke without fire. Bodies piled into formations that should be impossible.
“Goddess help us,” Kiwi mutters.
I pull my gaze and stare ahead. Sadie’s eyes bob in my memory. I grip the sides of my seat. I’m angry with Kiwi for her cowardice. Angry at Colonel Jax for using Sadie to control me. And, most of all, angry at myself for not protecting her.
Remember where you stand, Mr. Richards.
I swallow. Inside my head, I nod at him. I take his advice. I remember.
I remember the cursed monster. Remember him well. I tried to be something else for her. For Sadie. A father figure. In my head, I laugh.
I can’t be that for her.
In this world, I am her monster. In this world, that is a good thing.
I rock forward as the vehicle slows. My thoughts release Colonel Jax, then I peer through the front window. A low-sitting, rust-kissed gate rolls into view. We stop behind the first car in the convoy. I purse my lips, realizing I have no idea how long we’ve been driving.
“This is our first check point. Twenty minutes.” Juliet pushes open her door, and Kiwi and Tripp follow suit.
I hang back, open my door slowly, and then step out.
I glance up. Dots of feathery red lace thread through the sky.
I follow the others. As I near the gate, I notice the copper remains of a train in the foreground on what’s left of a track.
I linger behind Tripp and Kiwi, who stand near four others, part of the support team I don’t know. Up in front, Juliet speaks to a big ass dude. With a big ass gun. And a big ass, salt-sprinkled beard.
My eyes swing back to the four unknowns. Two of the three men have buzz cuts, Enforcers. The more scarred up buzz cut probably wrangles on the side. I remember their names are Jameson and Stein. Don’t remember when I acquired that info, but I’m pretty sure I’m right.
“Alright, everyone. This is Roscoe,” Juliet’s voice rings out.
I glance ahead. His beefy fingers wave.
“Good. Good to see yins.” He waves us forward. “Come on in while we get yah supplies packed in for yins.”
I grin. Dude sounds like he used to spend time four wheeling for beer.
As the buzzcut’s turn and unlock the gate, Tripp mutters, “Not this time. This deserves an explanation.”
His feet pound away, crunching black gravel as he goes.
“Hm.” I stroll by Kiwi without a glance. “Trouble in loon town?”
I pass through the gate. Roscoe points out the bathroom. A blue porta shitter perches near a ruined, three story concrete building.
People saunter in between plywood structures that serve as homes and makeshift flea market style stands, wrapped in strange combinations of clothing. One woman adorns what looks like a duct tape suit. Another, some young guy, wears a dark Harley helmet and a poncho.
I hit the porta shitter after one of ours, the Asian I now remember from the Presenting, and study the wall.
Symbols are written in heavy, black marker. All kinds, from crosses to pentagrams. As I zip up, I see something from the old world. A small set of boobs.
I laugh and turn to step out. I almost run right into Juliet, who has a little old white lady in her grasp. My eyes narrow.
“This is the last chance you’ll get,” Juliet says. “You’ll need the strength.”
I grin. “I can funnel a little from you at a time.”
She nods at me, then at her offering from the Golden Girls. “Susan.” She turn
s back to me. “Eat fast, we leave in five minutes. You’re driving to the next check point.”
I shake my head, then hold my hand toward Susan. “Pike.”
“Pfah.” She waves me off, grabs my hand, and then pulls me into an embrace.
I go rigid, glancing around toward a chorus of feet shuffling and doors banging shut. I’m about to politely remind her about personal space, when she releases me.
She peers up at me with blue eyes that make me miss the old sky.
She smiles, then lets out an even sigh. “Father, can you grant me absolution?”
She blinks at me, and for a moment, it looks like she’s holding her breath. I swallow something thick. Something human when I realize she has no idea who she is. What I am.
My mouth opens. I almost tell her the truth, but why bother? I take her hands in mine.
“What’s your confession, Susan?”
She darts her eyes left, takes in a shuddering breath before her gaze locks onto mine.
“My lack of faith… My cowardice, it got my grandchildren k-k-killed.” Her features drop, shoulders trembling in quiet grief.
A horn honks. I jump, and then fire a glare over at the convoy as something pinches in my chest. I stopped breathing. With an inhale, I peer back down at Susan.
Her eyes are wide. “Will you grant me absolution?”
I nod and rush a cross in front of her. Her eyes close, features relaxed. As I lean in to place my lips close to her ear, I try to stamp down the human thing in my chest that felt for her.
I try not to see a little old lady.
It’s almost too easy.
I pucker my lips and whistle. I gulp down her need, and then let her drop to the ground.
Thud.
As I trudge back to the car, I catch a glimpse of Kiwi wincing. With a smile, I waggle my fingers at her. The skin around her eyes tightens. Her mouth screws up with attitude. Then, she squeezes her eyes closed and shuts the passenger side door.
It feels good to drive again. So good that I take over the next two driving shifts. I tap my fingers on the wheel as I zip this bad bitch through the remains of Tennessee. The only thing that would make it better would be music.
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