by Ann Bakshis
I wait until their taillights are gone before crouching down next to the side door where I listen for any signs of movement on the other side. There’s only silence so I slowly turn the knob and slide into the room, shutting the door quietly behind me. I’m met by a foul odor, but it’s one I’ve smelled before. Against the wall are rusty metal containers which I know hold gasoline, as Devlan had a couple in the shed to fill up his truck and my bike. The lone light in the room is coming in through several tiny windows lining the back wall above a work table. I recognize the brown truck sitting just a foot in front of me. It’s one of the trucks I saw the other night outside the Refuge. I stand up and peer inside, noticing that it’s empty, but through the passenger window I see a figure tied to a pole in the middle of the floor. Walking around the front of the truck, I bend down and lift Quin’s face.
“I knew it was you,” he says, in a tired voice.
“Liar,” I say, with a half-smile. “Where’s Terrance?”
“He’s in the house.” Quin nods with his head indicating the direction. “Get out of here before they see you.”
“How many are there?”
“Six, but I think some just left.”
“How did they get you?” I ask, as I move to his back where his hands are tied.
I notice the thick rope has been wound at least ten times around his wrists and the post.
“As I was entering the tunnel to go to the oasis, I heard a scuffling noise on the other side of the rocks. I’d left Terrance with the truck since he’s too big to fit through that tiny crack. I don’t normally take him with me when I’m going to Oasis Eight, but Rena insisted.”
I take out my knife and begin cutting away the restraints. They’re so tightly wound that I wind up cutting Quin’s arms a couple of times. He winces, but doesn’t complain.
“You could’ve taken all of them, what happened?”
“They used a couple of stun guns on me then struck me in the back of the head knocking me out. When I came to I was tied up in here. After I broke the restraints, they decided to wind the rope multiple times practically cutting off the circulation to my hands.”
“What are they doing with Terrance?”
“Torturing him. They were going to kill him at the start, but when they realized he couldn’t speak they thought they would have a little fun first at his expense.” The last of the rope gives way and Quin is free from the pole. He rubs his hands, working the blood back through them. “Now, get out of here. I’ll get Terrance.”
“No,” I say firmly. “I’ll get Terrance, you get the truck ready.”
“Are you nuts?” he says as he grabs my arm, turning me to face him. “They have a Levin gun.”
“I know.”
He looks at me, trying to figure out how I know this. He lets go of my left arm, but holds onto my right, rubbing the material covering it.
“This isn’t a burn, is it?”
“No, it’s not.”
We exit out the side door, my gun in one hand and knife in the other. Quin goes over to his truck and joins me at the sliding glass door. His armament of choice is a crowbar. I’m guessing his real weapon is inside the house. I quickly peek inside to see where the targets are. Only two remain and they are both sitting on a couch with their backs to us, but I can’t see Terrance.
I crouch down as Quin uses the crowbar on the door, sliding it open slowly so not to make any noise. I squirm into the small opening, Quin following close behind me. I stand up and see Terrance bent down, his back being used as a foot rest. He spots me and makes a little noise. It’s enough to alert the other two of our presence. The first shot is fired by the man with the Levin gun. His aim is off so he winds up blasting the patio door sending glass shards flying. I fire my gun and hit him in the shoulder. The other one is on his feet fighting Quin with a Pugio blade. Terrance is curled up in a ball on the floor. I go over to him to help him up, but hear a noise from the man I just shot. He’s up again, gun in hand, and I don’t have time to jump out of the way. Quin, however, is already diving for the gun as the man fires.
The blast of energy hits Quin in the upper right part of his chest and exits out his back. Terrance tries to scream, but only gurgling noises come out. Quin goes down, blood pouring from his wound. I take my knife and throw it at the man, hitting him in the middle of the throat. He’s dead before he hits the floor. The other one begins to retreat, but not after slashing at Terrance with the blade, cutting him badly down his left leg. I aim the Beta gun and fire, not stopping until there are several holes in the man’s chest.
I crawl over to Quin, who’s barely breathing.
I remove one of the canisters of Quarum, role up his sleeve, and inject it. Within seconds his breathing is returning to normal, the blood has stopped pooling under him. I go over to Terrance, remove another canister, and am about to inject him as well when Quin screams no behind me.
“He’s injured, badly. He’s going to bleed to death,” I protest.
“You’ll kill him instantly if you give him that stuff. His body can’t handle the toxicity.”
I look at Quin, puzzled that he knows what’s in the syringe.
“How come I was able to give it to you?”
“I…don’t know, maybe because I’m younger and healthier.”
Quin’s answer doesn’t sound right, but I don’t have time to waste. I put the syringe away while Quin looks around the house for something to stem the bleeding. He comes back with some towels that he rips into strips to wrap around Terrance’s leg. I go over to the man with the Levin gun, remove my knife from his throat, clean the blood off by wiping it on his shirt, and re-sheath it in my boot.
“Get Terrance into your truck. I’m going to grab as many gas cans as I can and clean up our mess,” I tell Quin as I’m heading out the back door.
He doesn’t argue.
There’s no room in the cab of the truck for Terrance, so Quin stretches him out in the bed next to my bike. I load the remainder of the truck up with as many gas cans as I can fit, some in the bed with Terrance and the rest in the cab. Quin better secures my bike with some cord he finds in the house. I take the remainder of the gas cans, pouring their contents all over the truck in the garage, the bodies, and the furniture in the house. I leave two full cans in the middle of the living room and one in the other building, securing a detonator onto each and start the timers.
Quin has the truck idling when I run out of the house.
Terrance is covered in blankets; Quin has his blade holstered on his back. I jump into the passenger seat as Quin guns the engine. We’re only a few yards away when the explosions go off. I watch the fires burn in the side mirror.
Chapter 6
Terrance continues to deteriorate as we make our way back to the Refuge. As soon as we pull up to the house, I jump out of the cab and run to get Rena. She and I help Quin gingerly carry Terrance down the hall and into his bedroom. Rena goes into the kitchen and comes back with some rubbing alcohol and a sewing kit, while Quin goes out to the bar for Terrance’s Tequila bottle in case he begins to wake up. I go to the bathroom and fill a bowl with water and soap, making sure to grab the lone washcloth that is hanging from the towel rack behind the toilet. Quin rips open Terrance’s pants while I wash away as much blood as possible, exposing the wound to the air so Rena can see what needs to be worked on.
The gash is about half an inch deep, and runs down the length of his thigh. Terrance’s skin color has turned gray, and his breathing is labored. Rena sterilizes the needle, thread, and wound with rubbing alcohol, while Quin stands at the head of the bed, holding down Terrance’s shoulders to prevent him from moving when Rena begins to sew him up. She is almost done when Terrance begins to rouse. He bolts upright, throwing Quin off his feet. Quin leans back down on him while I lie across his chest to help keep him still.
He resists us at first, but gives up the fight and falls unconscious. Rena finishes then leaves to clean herself up. Quin opens the Tequila bottle, tak
es a swig, and offers me a hit, which I take just as Rena comes back in the room with a glass of water and several pain relievers. We manage to wake Terrance long enough for him to take the pills and water. We know we can’t leave him alone, so we decide to each take a shift. Rena says she will go first while Quin and I clean ourselves up. Before leaving, I reach into the satchel I’d dropped on the floor of the bedroom and remove the package. I hand it to Rena, pick the satchel up, and exit the room.
Quin moves his truck into the barn as I climb up the ladder to the loft to get some clean clothes. I see the tablet lying on the bed and begin to wonder if I have time to play the next recording. I shout down to Quin, asking for the time. He replies that it’s nearly seven. I tell him to go ahead and take his shower first as I lie on the mattress and press my palm to the screen. I hear Quin turn on the water below and utter an expletive.
The headphones eject from the side as usual, but I decide not to put them on. The noise from the water should be enough to prevent Quin from hearing Devlan’s voice and the volume is low enough not to travel far. The headphones retract and the screen begins to glow blue, followed by a picture of the Dormitories.
“Efforts to understand and replicate the Levin gun were now made the highest priority by the High Rulers. All resources that had once been solely dedicated to the Barracks, the training facility for the nation’s army, was now dismantled, and diverted to the Dormitories. I myself was recruited in the effort since I’d witnessed the power the gun could produce first-hand. Two scientists from each city were relegated to create a specialized treatment to cure anyone unfortunate enough to be hit by the weapon. Over many months of research and testing, Quarum, the solution to healing the injuries was created. Testing was done again on the criminals of the cities, as well as the impaired, but the fluid proved to be too toxic. Many of the subjects died or went insane, which led to them having to be killed. The doctors returned to testing the solution on embryos to see if an undeveloped body would accept the poison. They began to see positive results, but only if they administered small doses at certain developmental cycles.”
The scene dissolves to a picture of the embryos being soaked in the Quarum, then removed and placed into large glass containers where fluid feeds them through tubes. The whole process looks like an assembly line. Many of these containers encompass a large room, filled with embryos at various stages of development.
“The scientists decided to take their task one step further. They decided to replicate the energy produced by the Levin gun into a newer weapon, a human weapon. Researchers were able to duplicate the amount of energy needed to produce the destructive power, but it took several more years before they developed the Quantum Stream, a current of force embedded in every atom of the human body.”
The picture changes to show a group of scientists trying to map out the path of the Quantum Stream on a simulation of the human anatomy.
“They had to carefully choose the exact placement for this power. Too much in one area of the body led to the embryo bursting into blue flames, while placing the components of the stream too far apart caused the cells to collapse, deforming the subject, which then had to be killed. The first batch to be subjected to this experiment took to the Quantum Stream better than expected. A year after their birth they began military conditioning, cognitive realignment training, and emotional therapy, however word had leaked to the Nuceirans about what the other two cities had developed. They had been kept in the dark about the altered development of the soldiers since this was against their principles and beliefs. Nuceira sent their troops up to the Dormitories to destroy the installation, as they saw it as an insult to creation.”
A burned-out complex appears on the screen; the once beautiful white buildings are destroyed to rubble.
”A warning had gone out to the complex after the first strike against the gates at the entrance. Of the two hundred children that had been successfully constructed, only four survived the assault. Four children who have been hidden from the world…thought to have perished in the flames.”
“You’re one of them, Meg,” Quin says, appearing unexpectedly at the top of the ladder wrapped only in a towel. “Or should I call you Trea? That is your real name.”
He climbs the rest of the way up, kneels down in front of me, and removes the tablet from my hands as the screen goes black.
“It’s not true,” I whimper, as his wet hair drips onto my legs.
I suddenly feel chilled, even though the barn is stifling hot.
“I wasn’t sure it was you until we were in Terrance’s room. As you were lying across his chest and your ponytail flipped over. That’s when I noticed the three small dots at the base of your hairline.”
I instinctively reach around to my neck, searching for marks that I already know are there.
“I’ve had them forever…they’re just birth marks,” I stammer, trying to think, trying to make sense of what I’ve just seen and heard.
Quin turns his back to me, lifts up his wet curling hair and points to his hairline at the base of his skull. There sit five identical marks, same width, same height, same placement, and same dark color. But Devlan said there were only four. How can I believe anything at this point?
I bolt from my spot, wanting to get as far away from him as possible, but he grabs my legs as I try to run past, bringing me down hard onto the loft floor. Flipping me over, he grabs my hands as I try to fight him off, but he is much stronger than I am. He places his weight onto my legs and eventually gets my arms pinned above my head. Tears are pouring down my face, and anger is surging through me. I feel my right arm heat up, acting as if a weapon will be thrust into my grasp.
“Stop, Meg, stop,” Quin says to me in a calm voice. “I know how you must be feeling.”
I don’t stop wiggling my body as I try to dislodge his grip on me…on reality.
That’s when I notice the wound in his chest, the hole that was blasted through his torso and out his back. The skin has sealed itself over the gash, scars stream outward in a radial pattern, but no blue light, no Quantum Stream like mine.
Quin follows my gaze to his chest. He takes his left hand and begins to remove the strap on my right arm. I fight some more as I don’t want him to notice the difference between our scars, but I’m overpowered. He slides the sleeve off of my arm and examines the river of blue that courses down my arm to the two small entry points in the palm of my hand.
“How?”
“Levin gun backfired.” My voice sounds shaky as I speak.
I’m both angry and scared, not sure which emotion I should allow to take over.
Quin looks back down at his chest.
“Then why does my injury not look like yours? That was a Levin gun he shot me with,” Quin begins to protest, voice rising to the point of anger.
“Devlan removed the safety features on the gun I used. Those features must have been enabled on the one back at the house.”
He releases me from his grip and hands me back the sleeve. I put it back on just as Rena calls from down below that dinner is ready.
“Whatever you do, don’t say anything to anyone about what you are, or about what I am. People have been killed trying to find us,” Quin whispers to me. “It’s better if no one knows. You should die before telling anyone who you are.”
Terrified by his last remark, I put the sleeve back on before we both descend down the ladder. Rena gives each of us a quizzical look as she notices my hair is full of hay and Quin is only wearing a towel. I go to take a shower while Quin follows Rena into the house for some clean clothes. Once I’m dry I put on my last clean pair of running shorts, a shirt, and a pair of flip flops that Rena found for me the other day.
The three of us sit silently in the kitchen eating lukewarm bowls of tomato soup. Quin cleans up the dishes while I tell Rena that I’ll take the next shift, and send her to sleep on the couch in the front room.
Terrance hasn’t improved much since I last saw him. His color is still ter
rible and the injury in his leg looks infected. Rena has placed an old folding chair next to the head of the bed so I sit down, pick up Terrance’s hand, and hold it tightly in mine, willing him to get better. I can sense Quin standing in the doorway, but I don’t acknowledge his presence until he sets his chair next to mine.
“Those Collectors,” I begin, “they weren’t the same ones that came after Devlan and me. How many kinds are there?”
“From what Rena told me about what happened to you, I’m guessing those were from one of the cities. The ones Terrance and I encountered are rogue Collectors, hired mercenaries kidnapping people for profit.”
We sit in silence, waiting for the other to speak. I know the next question I want to ask, but for some reason I’m not sure I want to know the answer.
“Why did you call me that?” I finally ask, my curiosity winning out over my nervousness.
“You mean Trea?”
“Yes.”
“That was the name you were given at birth. At least, that is what I remember from when we were kids. Devlan must have changed your name when he hid. You know it means three. My full name is Quintus, which means fifth.”
Terrance stirs a little then begins to thrash around, obviously in the midst of a nightmare. I begin stroking his forehead telling him he is safe, he is protected. This seems to calm him down and he drifts back to oblivion.
“What happened to you?” I ask, as I lean farther forward in my chair, closer to Terrance, away from Quin.
“I lived with one of the researchers who fled the Dormitories. He was supposed to protect me, but left when I was younger. I eventually found my way out to the Wasteland a few years ago and live in an abandoned home several miles from here. I help Rena and Terrance, and they feed me in return.”