“Yeah,” DeVontay said. “Except their games might destroy what’s left of this town, and us along with it.”
“That Zap did seem familiar somehow.”
“Come on, Rachel, all those knob-heads look alike. Especially since they all started wearing those silver suits.”
“They’ve created some amazing things, you have to admit. Those weapons, the domes, the metal birds.”
Something banged outside their door and they fell quiet, waiting. Rachel opened her eyes just as Geneva entered with three other Zaps, the smell of food making her mouth water. Her mutant constitution caused her to require less food than when she was fully human, but she hadn’t eaten in days. She could only imagine how hungry DeVontay was.
One of the Zaps placed ceramic plates on the floor ten feet away from them, as if worried that the humans might rush them. Geneva waited with an imperious tilt of her head, cradled in the arms of a short, plump Zap that looked to be Rachel’s age. She decided there were differences among them if you took the time to study them.
And if the outward differences were discernable, then inner ones likely existed as well.
“Don’t be shy,” Geneva said. “We prepared it according to recipes we discovered.”
DeVontay’s face was shiny and eager in the soft glow of their eyes, licking his chapped lips like an animal. He looked at Rachel and raised the eyebrow above his good eye as if to ask “Poison?” and then must have decided the Zaps had plenty of easier ways to kill them. He shamelessly crawled toward the food and sat before one of the plates, not waiting for Rachel.
“Do you not hunger?” Geneva said to Rachel, and she sensed the baby was taunting her about her former mutant qualities. As if the baby knew more about Rachel’s condition than Rachel did.
She joined DeVontay, who was already scooping up handfuls of food and shoving them in his mouth. The Zaps hadn’t provided utensils, napkins, or drinking water, so their research wasn’t as complete as Geneva boasted. Unless Geneva was deliberately removing any pretense of civilized behavior.
At least their captors didn’t dump the food on the floor.
She recognized the vegetation as collard greens, a Southern favorite that would do a fine job propagating itself in a field without human maintenance. There were also lumpy potatoes, another crop that produced volunteer plants if left untended. She was surprised to find meat, and realized that was the cause of the mouth-watering smell.
She picked up a hunk of it, lean and warm, and put it to her nose. It had obviously been roasted over an open fire. Chicken?
DeVontay didn’t seem concerned with its source, as he chewed noisily, licking at his fingers between bites. Geneva seemed to find great amusement in this, as she giggled several times, although the other Zaps remained as stone-faced as usual.
“Go on, Rachel,” Geneva cooed. “Eat up.”
Rachel took a tentative bite. It tasted mild and refreshing, although a little gamey and muddy. “Not bad. What it is?”
“Our friend from earlier. The one that died with my head in its mouth. Turnabout’s fair play, I have read.”
The reptile.
Rachel spat out the morsel and wiped her mouth.
“I like it,” DeVontay said, with exaggerated pleasure. “Tastes like ’gator.”
“If I had more teeth, I’d try it myself,” Geneva said.
“When can we see our people?” Rachel asked.
“When the sun rises.”
“What do you want with us?”
“So many questions, Rachel Wheeler. You had your chance to know everything and you betrayed us.”
“Maybe I know more than you think I do,” Rachel said in defiance.
“You know what we let you know,” Geneva said with a barely hidden mirth. “Just ask Kokona if you don’t believe me.”
Rachel stiffened at the mention of the baby she’d loved and tended for the past four years in the bunker. They shared a bond that was in some ways deeper than mother-and-daughter because of their telepathy and mutant abilities. But their relationship was also oddly adult and mature, because Kokona’s intelligence made her seem so much older than her physical form suggested.
She realized she hadn’t thought of the bunker for more than a few seconds at a time since they’d been captured. And Geneva had just revealed that the Zaps maintained some sort of connection or contact with Kokona despite the geographic distance separating them.
DeVontay stopped eating and looked at Rachel, his lone eye imploring her to say nothing as he gave a quick shake of his head. DeVontay was right: any reaction on her part would be used against them. Best to remain silent, which Geneva would take as ignorance and serve to feed her sense of superiority.
Rachel picked up some of the greens and held them over her tilted-back head. She opened her mouth and made a big display of dropping the food inside. She spoke as she smacked and chomped like a child. “Yummy. Humph. Do we humph humph get any dessert?”
“Not unless you clean your plate,” Geneva said. Zap babies were often playful and silly and shrewd, but Geneva’s tone suggested the very human emotion of annoyance.
Bingo. The smarter they are, the more they think they’re two steps ahead of the game.
“We’ll need some water unless you want us to die,” DeVontay said.
“I’ll send down some rain water. We’ve developed a collection system for industrial use, but I suppose we can spare some for our treasured guests.”
Geneva must’ve sent a mental command to the other Zaps, because they turned as one to exit the dim room. At the door, the Zap holding Geneva turned and the baby said, “You both tried to kill me and you failed. And I can barely even support the weight of my own head. What does that say about the great human race when even the tiniest of us is too strong for you?”
“I never thought of it as a genocidal war,” Rachel said. “Some of us do, sure, but I’m still hoping for peaceful co-existence.”
“Is that why you hid away in a military bunker while we’ve spent these past years designing the future? We might be an accident of nature, but that’s all life is. An accident. Until now.”
The veiled threat sounded almost laughable coming from that squeaky, childlike voice, but the plump face was cold and stern. Geneva’s eyes smoldered like stars consuming themselves from the inside out. The Zaps secured the door behind them, leaving Rachel and DeVontay with the remains of the food.
DeVontay pointed at the plate in front of Rachel. His face was steeped in the shadows cast by her eyes. “You going to eat that?”
“You’re okay with mutant lizard meat?”
“I need to keep up my strength. If I turn into a werewolf, you have my permission to jab me in the heart with a wooden stake.”
“That’s for vampires. Werewolves get silver bullets.” She pushed the plate toward him. “Knock yourself out.”
“That Geneva’s a piece of work, isn’t she? I wonder how many other babies are in this town. I haven’t seen any.”
“My guess is she’s killed them all off and seized power. All in the name of the communal good, of course.”
“Well, we’re not sticking around to find out.”
“They’ve got cyber birds that kill on command, mysterious energy waves, and suits that are nearly indestructible. And we’re locked underground without any tools or weapons. You’re quite an optimist.”
“No, I’m a survivor. Just like you.”
Rachel closed her eyes but that left DeVontay in the dark. She lay down beside him and listened to him finish the food, then said, “What do you think is happening at the bunker?”
“They were expecting us two days ago. I’ll bet they’re freaking out.”
“As long as they don’t come looking for us.”
“They’ll do as they were told,” DeVontay said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure. Stephen’s developing a stubborn streak. And if they got Franklin involved, all bets are off.”
“Then we better get out of
here as soon as we can. They’ll never find us if they think we’re in Stonewall. And they’re risking their lives for nothing.”
DeVontay smashed his plate against the floor and fished through the pieces until he found the largest shard. It was triangular and six inches long. He collected a rag from the pile of clothes around them and cinched it into a makeshift knife handle. He slashed at the air.
“Not much, but it makes me feel better,” he said.
They were no closer to a solution for escaping than before, and eventually they drifted off to sleep, bundling the blankets under them as best they could. Rachel was dreaming of Marina and Kokona when something scratched and scraped at the door.
She half opened her eyes, expecting Geneva and another interrogation. But it wasn’t.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I should kill you,” Capt. Antonelli said.
“But I didn’t do it,” Colleen said.
“Keep your voice down. I don’t want this getting around the unit.”
Antonelli had waited until Colleen returned to the telecom room and kept his composure until she’d settled in. Then he’d locked the door and confronted her with the damaged equipment. Even as he accused her, he’d feverishly studied her face, hoping he was wrong but knowing he wasn’t.
“This isn’t a military tribunal,” Antonelli said. “This is me, making a decision for the good of my soldiers and the country. Under Directive Seventeen, I’m sworn to terminate any threat to the successful conquest of our enemies. Sabotage and treason hurt the whole human race, and I can’t abide that, despite my feelings for you.”
Colleen bowed her shaking head, exhibiting the same denial for the past hour. Antonelli was torn by a dozen emotions, and he was okay with anger and fear and betrayal. What scared him was the deep chill in his gut that disguised itself as duty, a remorseless place that commanded him to employ whatever means necessary to complete his mission.
But now he was confused about the real mission here. True, he had his orders specific to the defeat of the Zaps, but didn’t he have a higher law to follow? Hadn’t Colleen made him human in a way that fighting and dying for the human race never could?
Her eyes were bloodshot with tears, bewilderment joining the pain in her face. He hadn’t touched her at all, but she was battered nonetheless. “Think about it, Mark. Why would I cut off contact?”
“You wanted us to stay here. You wanted me to ignore orders. You thought I’d roll over and wag my tail, waiting for a belly rub. You actually thought I’d betray my country for you.”
“I…it was just a thought. A moment of weakness.” She glared at him, freckled face a passionate mask. “I’ve always supported you, even when you’re wrong.”
That caught him off guard and he had to force himself not to explode. “That’s because I’m the captain. Your superior officer.” He waved at the bedroll. “Whatever else we are, whatever else we do, that fact doesn’t change.”
“Funny, you seem to surrender every time I’m on top.”
He pointed at her, knowing the gesture was childish and rude. “That’s not fair, Colleen.”
“None of this is fair! We didn’t ask for the sun to fuck up the sky and turn our friends into flaming-eyed freaks. We didn’t ask for monsters to chase us like we’re walking sausages. We didn’t ask to go to war or else vanish from the face of the Earth.”
“What you said earlier—I’m a soldier. That’s all I’ve ever been. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“I understand completely. You’re cut off from receiving orders and being told what to do. Now you have to make your own decisions. That scares the hell out of you.”
Antonelli spun and raked his arm across the table, sweeping the radio parts to the floor. “I’m just scared I’ll kill you.”
“For the last time, I didn’t do this. If I’d really wanted us to stay here in the bunker, I’d have played you into believing it was the right thing to do. I’m a woman, Mark. For God’s sake, I hope you’ll at least give me that much credit.”
Antonelli looked down at his trembling hands. He could kill her if she was truly a threat to the human race. If duty demanded it. But where was the honor in stupidity?
He was mostly enraged because she was right. Traveling by foot another ninety miles was nothing but suicide, given nature’s chaotic rebellion. Even if the beastadons and wild bears and barrel-sized rattlesnakes didn’t get them, the Zaps now appeared to have an aerial fleet they could control from a distance.
Reaching Asheville and the Fourth Division might buy them a brief reprieve, but any strength in numbers would be more than offset by the extra attention they would draw from those that wished them dead.
If you stay here, would HQ ever even know? They’ll just assume you’ve been wiped out. Hell, they expect you to be wiped out.
He didn’t like his line of thought. He forced his mind to the problems at hand. If the others found out about Colleen’s sabotage, he’d have to kill her to maintain discipline. But what if the radio was merely malfunctioning instead of sabotaged?
Lt. Randall was the only one who knew the radio was operational. Antonelli could make up a story about how it shut down and Antonelli tried to fix it, but now the destruction was clearly evident. He could also just pretend he’d received orders, but subsequent field communications might blow his story wide open.
You could also just tell Randall what you’re doing. Give Randall the option of staying at the bunker with them or taking the rest of the unit to their rendezvous in Asheville.
Antonelli realized he’d already made his decision. He sank heavily into the chair, looming over Colleen, who sat on the floor with her back against the wall.
“So, are you going to kill me?” she asked in a low, calm voice.
“Of course not,” he said with a sigh. “I’m going to kill the baby.”
Colleen’s shoulders unclenched in relief. “Why do you need to kill her?”
“She can’t be here if we’re staying.”
“HQ told you to hold her as a prisoner.”
“So what? I’ve already mutinied. What are they going to do, send one of our last helicopters to hunt me down?”
“She’s just a baby.”
“She’s just a Zap. Don’t go all soft on me. They’ve killed your brother, your friends, your comrades. They took your world away. And they’ll kill you as soon as they get the chance.”
“What about the others?”
Mark gave a doubtful shake of his head. “They can go or they can stay. After that bird attack, I’m guessing they’d be happy to hole up here for a while. But I’m not making that decision for them. Not anymore.”
Colleen tried to hide the pleasure of victory, but it was bright in her eyes. “You’re still the captain. They’ll follow wherever you lead.”
“I can’t call myself an officer anymore.” He tugged at the captain’s bars on his lapel pin, the only insignia he wore. “I’m just a man now.”
Colleen cupped her palm over his knee. “That’s all you need to be.”
“We’ll have to deal with Franklin and the boy. If they make it back.”
“And the two others they went out to find. And the girl, Marina. We’ll be responsible for her now.”
“We’ll make it work. The thing is, now we have a fighting chance.”
“A chance for us,” Antonelli said. “But we’re screwing it for everybody else.”
“They’re already screwed, Mark. Take it all the way down the line. You’ve seen New Pentagon. What, six hundred people trying to take probably thirty thousand Zaps? And that’s just here in the Southern Atlantic region. Multiply that out by the whole country—or worse, the whole world—and you see we never had a chance.”
“But we’re not alone. Look what happened right here in the bunker. Five civilians living with a Zap, and they had it together enough to save us when the shit hit the fan. They’re dealing with this better than New Pentagon is. If there are more people like these left,
maybe we can win this one day. Not by fighting, but by surviving.”
“Right,” Colleen said. “We’re not quitting, we’re just regrouping.”
She was trying to salvage some of his pride, but Antonelli didn’t need it. He was thinking about how to kill the baby. He supposed a single shot to the temple would do it. That would be another lie he could sell to the troops—that HQ had given him the order.
Not that anyone would question him. Somebody needed to pay for the slaughter of their comrades.
He glanced at the monitors, where the aurora had thinned and left most of the forest in shadows. Anything could be out there closing in on the bunker.
Am I doing the right thing?
Colleen grabbed his wrist with both hands and dragged him down to the bedroll. “You can figure it out in the morning.”
“Will you still love me if I can’t order you around?”
“You never ordered me. I did it all because I wanted to.”
“You’d be a fool to say anything else.” He felt amazingly light, so accustomed to the burden of command that it was part of his field pack, just more shit to carry. If Colleen had betrayed him, it was among the most merciful acts she could’ve committed.
As if reading his thoughts, she said, “I didn’t do it, you know.”
He nodded. “I know.”
He didn’t want to think about who had sabotaged the radio. He might not like the answer.
He lost himself in her eyes, his head swimming with a future that now seemed wildly uncertain. Just hours ago, he would’ve sworn his destiny was mapped out, a path marched by millions of soldiers before him. Now, though, he had no anchor connecting him to his past and the iron self-image he’d carefully constructed.
He wasn’t iron. He was molten, fluid, uncast, and as he wrapped himself in the forge of her embrace, he surrendered to whatever new shape he would become.
CHAPTER NINE
Tan Huynh perhaps had some revolutionary blood flowing through his veins.
His grandfather had been one of Ho Chi Minh’s foot soldiers in the North Vietnamese Army, and a generation before that his great-grandfather fought the French colonialists with the People’s Army. Those men didn’t consider themselves revolutionaries—they were freedom fighters opposing imperialists. It was only after the Huynh family’s immigration to the United States that he was forced to assess the intricacies of his cultural history.
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