Crimson Return

by Daelynn Quinn

  “Yoric, how long have you two been—”

  “Three months,” he interrupts me. “But I’m really into her. And it’s not like I have a ton of options anymore. None of the other women here do it for me.”

  “Yes, but marriage? Do you really want to take it that far? Maybe you two could just live together for a while and see what happens.”

  He didn’t seem to hear me. “I want to do something really crazy for the proposal, but something she’ll like. That’s why I need your help.”

  “Yoric, I’d love to help you, I’m just not so sure this is a good idea,” I say. “Timber’s got a good head on her shoulders. I don’t think she’d say yes, no matter how much she loves you. You should give it a little more time.”

  Yoric slumps his shoulders, defeated. “Really?” I feel kind of bad now. He truly does love her. I try to think of something to lift his spirits.

  “Yes, but that just gives us more time to plan something really spectacular,” I reassure. Yoric looks up with a glint of hope in his eyes. Just behind him I spot Lynx approaching.

  “Hey, Pollen. Sorry I’m late. I just spent the last hour arguing with Curtis about the placement of the auxiliary coolant system,” she says. Lynx looks like she just came straight from work: shoulder-length blond hair pulled back carelessly into a ponytail, creases etched into her forehead, and a wrinkled lab coat hanging over her forearm.

  “Thanks, Pollen,” says Yoric as he stands, nods to Lynx, and disappears into the cloud of hungry Ceborec residents.

  “Hey Lynx. Sounds like Curtis is—”

  “A pompous nerd who thinks a couple of degrees earns him the privilege of being my superior,” Lynx finishes. A brief pause and a questioning smile prompt her to elaborate. “Okay, yes, he’s had a formal education in engineering, but I’ve had just as much education as he has. And just because my degree isn’t in engineering doesn’t mean I don’t know as much as him. I do read, you know.” She drops her plate of pasta marinara on the table and begins to slurp it up.

  Lynx used to be a research librarian at a prestigious university before the virus struck. She truly is one of the most intelligent people I know. When she first arrived here, the only one of our escape party to successfully escape from Crimson during our first attempt, she took up a post as an inventory analyst for the aerospace engineering department. The library had no need for another librarian and she wanted to be involved in the development of the Earth shuttle. It was a stroke of luck, really, how she ended up where she is now. One of the lead engineers passed away and they needed an immediate replacement. Of course, since the virus depleted most of the population they had quite a small pool of candidates to choose from. Lynx somehow managed to convince the chief engineers that she was the most capable and competent for the job. Now she is a lead engineer and has unescorted clearance throughout the entire facility.

  “Sorry you’re having a bad day,” I say.

  “Yeah, enough about that. How are Evie and Marcus? It seems like ages since I’ve seen them.” Lynx asks with her mouth half full.

  We chat for a while, talking about things that have happened since we saw each other last week. Lynx updates me on plans for the Earth shuttle, most of which I don’t understand, and I tell her about Marcus and Glenn.

  “How’s Marcus dealing with that?” she asks.

  “He’s suspicious, to say the least,” I say.

  “Well, who isn’t?” Lynx laughs. “Just about everyone here has got their eyes on him. What do you think? Do you trust him?” That must be the question of the week for me.

  “You know, I hate having the pressure of that question weighing down on me,” I say. I push my plate away and wipe my hands on the napkin in my lap.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” starts Lynx.

  “Oh, I’m not directing that at you, Lynx. It’s just that General Granby took me aside and asked me that earlier.”

  “Well, you are the only one here that really knows him,” she says.

  “Do I? I’m not sure I ever really knew him. I mean, since he’s been here, it’s like the last year never happened. Like he’s the old Glenn I knew and fell in love with years ago.”

  “But, and correct me if I’m wrong, Glenn was quite the master of deception. It could just be a facade to gain your trust.”

  “Of course I’ve already considered that. Despite his past, I think I do trust him. And Granby trusts my judgment. The problem is; what if I’m wrong and something really bad happens? What if more people die as a result of my trusting him? I can’t handle carrying that burden.”

  “I’m sure you are right about him, Pollen. You do have good judgment. Don’t doubt that for a second.” Lynx smiles.

  The dinner crowd begins to thin out and as the noise in the food court dies down, Lynx takes notice of the late hour.

  “I need to get going,” she sighs. “I’ve got some CRTs to sign off on before it gets too late.”

  “Thanks for the talk. I feel much better about my decision. Same time next week?” I ask.

  “Of course,” says Lynx, standing up to push her chair in.

  “Oh, and Lynx,” I call out as she begins to walk away. She turns back. “Take a vacation. You can’t work all the time.” She smiles and nods before she walks away.

  I’ve already finished eating my dinner, but I don’t really want to go back to the apartment yet. My mind is whirling with thoughts of Glenn and Marcus. If Glenn is to remain here, I’ve got to figure out how to bridge the resentment between those two.

  “Is this seat taken?” I look up to see Marcus smiling down at me.

  “Lynx just left,” I say. “I was just getting ready to go home. Where’s Evie?”

  Marcus relaxes into the chair and rests his arms on the table, fidgeting with a green piece of paper.

  “Timber’s with her. I think I might get promoted,” he says.

  “Really? That’s great!” I say as my face lights up.

  “I’ve been invited to go hang out with Hagar and the guys tomorrow afternoon.” Hagar is Marcus’s boss and the superintendent on the job site. He is often seen associating with lead engineers and scientists in his off time. But my smile fades when I realize I’ll be on my own for training tomorrow.

  “What about our training?” I ask.

  “Why don’t you see if Timber can train with you again?” he says.

  “Then who’s going to watch Evie?” I stare intently at him with a ‘didn’t you think this through first’ look.

  “I don’t know,” he shrugs thoughtlessly. “Send her to the daycare.”

  “Daycare? You know I can’t do that.”

  “Pollen,” Marcus sighs restlessly, “they watch kids every day. You need to loosen the reins a little.”

  My blood begins to simmer and I can feel the veins on my face spill over with raging hot blood. My voice takes on a stiff, staccato tone. “I won’t let her go with anyone I don’t trust. You know that, Marcus. Why can’t you just go another time?”

  “This is important,” his voice lowers, taking a more serious tone.

  “And I’m not?”

  His face reddens and his eyebrows descend, hedging over his eyes. The blue irises stand out in stark contrast to his magenta skin. “Pollen,” he says in a deep low voice, “Ever since we’ve been here I’m either with you or Evie or at work. I need a life, too!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap.

  “It means, I need to hang out with some guys for a change.”

  “You hang out with them every day at work,” I remark.

  Marcus shakes his head as he looks away, “Do whatever you have to do. I won’t be training with you tomorrow.”

  Marcus nearly knocks over the chair as he stands and walks away, leaving me to brew in my own fury.

  I can barely sleep when I return to the apartment. Marcus and I avoid each other as much as possible despite sleeping in the same bed. We don’t talk. We don’t touch. We don’t even look at each other. Thi
s is our first real fight and, I don’t know, maybe it’s this tension with Glenn around, but although I should know better, I can’t help but feel our relationship is beginning to break down.

  Chapter 8

  Marcus was already gone when I woke up this morning, presumably to avoid me and any argument I might start. Or continue rather. Maybe I was being a little selfish last night. I understand he needs his own friends. But surely he could find time outside our training schedule to socialize. And he didn’t have to make those biting remarks about my handling of Evie’s care. He knows the hell I went through, we went through, to get her out of Crimson and how difficult it is for me to let her out of my sight. I won’t let that happen again.

  I thought about staying home with Evie myself so that Timber could go train with Yoric, but I have so much pent up aggression I need to go shoot some stuff to allow myself to vent. I had to bribe Timber to stay with Evie and let me go alone. I now owe her a girls night out at the new nightclub that’s about to open when we move underground.

  It’s a dark, overcast day, the kind of day people usually stick to the shooting ranges because the smoky clouds appear engorged with rain. I have no intention of using the range. I want to be out in the woods, away from everybody. Alone in my sanctuary—the way I used to escape into the woods when I was younger. I’ve just got to figure out how to convince the Watchers to let me out there without a training partner. Or maybe I don’t.

  As I wait for the attendant to return with my pistol, Glenn reluctantly approaches me.

  “Hey Pollen,” he says. “Shooting at the range today?” The attendant appears and places my gun on the counter while warily eying Glenn.

  “Nope,” I say, placing the pistol in my holster. “I’m going out to Arena Five.” Arena Five is one of the wooded training arenas surrounding the complex. It’s usually reserved only for group training. Nobody’s ever allowed to go to the outdoor arenas alone. The threat of bounty hunters makes it too dangerous—even with the barricade of Watchers on duty surrounding the perimeter.

  “Where’s your partner?” Glenn asks, looking around.

  “He’s got more important things to do today than train with me. I’m going alone.” My tone is thick with resentment.

  “No, you’re not,” he says, placing his hand on the scanner. The attendant looks up at Glenn nervously after reading the scanner, then disappears into the back room.

  “Glenn,” I start, but he puts his hand up to stop me.

  “Pollen, it’s not safe out there by yourself. Trust me. I could have easily gotten past the Watchers unseen if I’d wanted to. We’ll train together today. I won’t tell Marcus, I promise.”

  The attendant returns with a beginner’s training rifle. Unlike the other firearms, these were designed only to use paint bullets, and not real ones. I’d expect Glenn to argue his way into getting a real gun, but he surprises me with his graceful acceptance of the rifle.

  “Okay,” I give in as we walk to the ammunitions counter. “But remember, we are training. Nothing more.”

  * * *

  “Give me a full minute,” I direct Glenn, and then dash off into the gloomy wooded abyss.

  “One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three,” I count silently to myself as I dodge the trees, looking back every now again to make sure he’s not following yet. My speed has picked up in the past few months of training. I’m still not as fast as I used to be when I ran track in high school three years ago, but I’m getting there.

  When I reach “one thousand fifty two,” I duck behind a giant elm with a hollowed out trunk where some small woodland creatures probably used to take shelter before they were decimated by the virus. As I slow my breathing I hear the pit-a-pat of raindrops bouncing off of the leaves above me. A rumble of thunder hums in the distance, announcing an approaching storm.

  It’s so peaceful, being alone out here; I almost forget that I’m supposed to be on guard. I close my eyes and open my other senses to the world around me: tiny splashes of rain plopping on my exposed legs, the surging breeze winding its way around the tree trunks surrounding me, the creaking of the trees above as they sway with the turbulent wind. And the crunching of leaves under the heavy boots of a pursuer.

  He’s here already? How long have I been sitting here?

  My eyes flash open and I pull my pistol from its holster around my thigh. I hold the gun softly against the slightly scarred skin of my cheek, preparing my tense body for action. Spinning around I point my gun in the direction of the footsteps, but no one is there. I rise to my feet and step forward, puzzled, looking behind the tree. Where could he have gone? Then I think of Timber and her expert tree climbing skills. Can Glenn climb?

  I turn my attention upward, toward the fierce battle of blustering tree branches above, but there’s no sign of him. Before I even have time to process this, I am grabbed from behind. I can’t believe I was caught off-guard. It’s one of the first things we learned here during training—to always be aware of our surroundings.

  I feel the warm moisture of his breath behind my left ear. I writhe in his arms but his grip tightens, securing me in place. Fury rushes through my veins, but when his husky voice whispers into my ear, the terrifying awareness that it’s not Glenn takes over and the gun slips from my trembling fingers as an icy chill jolts down my spine.

  “Scream and I’ll blow your head off, pretty girl.”

  I can feel the sharp edge of the barrel just behind my right ear. I don’t know how I got myself into this situation or how I’m going to get out. I can only hope that Glenn finds me. But then what? What can he do with a simple training rifle? I never should have come out here. I should have stayed at the shooting range with everybody else. Now I’ve put myself and Glenn in danger.

  My captor turns me around and leads me through the woods, never taking the gun away from my head. The rain is pouring buckets now and I can barely hear Glenn calling for me. But my captor won’t let me stop; he continues to push me forward, silencing me with the cold metal shaft.

  I know that once we are out of the perimeter there is no hope for me. I have to think of something quick. There’s a tricky move I learned in the sparring arena where we do unarmed combat. It could work now, but only if I catch my captor off-guard. Otherwise I’ll be on my way to joining my parents and Drake.

  I continue to walk, trying to appear as submissive as possible. In one swift move I duck down and twist my legs around his, jabbing the back of his knee, causing him to fall backward. Now is my chance. I make a run for it.

  In my mind, I’m back in the woods that fateful day, when I woke up with no memory and found myself being pursued by a band of redneck bounty hunters. Only this time, I’ve got the rain and wind to run against as well. I berate myself for not taking his gun when I had the chance. But it’s too late now. All I can do is run. I glance back to see that he is right on my tail, only a few paces back. I charge forward, but I can’t seem to lose him.

  As I sprint, I tear my holster away from my thigh and yank the band from my hair. If I can’t escape him, maybe I can stall him long enough to get away. I still have four full magazines and in my left pocket are three loose paint bullets I saved from my last training session.

  Up ahead I spot the elm I was hiding in. I’m getting close to Glenn and the complex. If I can just make it out of the woods I’ll be okay. He won’t pursue me out in the open. But I won’t make it that far.

  Just as I am passing the tree, I feel a tug at my feet and I am on the ground, scraping my fingernails through the mud, trying to get away. The man is right on top of me. I reach into my pocket and load my slingshot. Turning to him I pull back the band and release the bullet straight into his right eye. It doesn’t do any permanent damage, but does cause some extreme pain as the paint stings his eye. His agonizing wails echo through the woods over the booming thunder and pounding rainfall. But he doesn’t release me as I had hoped. Instead he sits atop me and aims his gun at my left eye.

  Thi
s is it. This is the end.

  I clench my eyes shut, ready to make my peace, when the weight lifts off me. When I release my eyes I find Glenn gripping the man by his neck and striking his head against the tree repeatedly until he is unconscious. I stagger backward in the mud, trying to physically and psychologically distance myself from violence in front of me. Glenn takes the loaded gun from the ground and without hesitation, fires a bullet into my captor’s left eye. An eye for an eye.

  Chapter Nine

  The rotunda is a hailstorm of utter chaos and pandemonium. The moment Glenn announced to General Granby that the perimeter had been breached, alarms blared, the militia were called in and everyone pretty much stopped what they were doing to follow emergency procedures. I just stand, hair and clothes dripping from the torrential downpour, shivering against the wall, blending in with the glossy white paint, and watch, still rattled by the attack and unsure of what to do. Glenn hovers by me, holding me close, comforting me. I search the men and women charging past, but Marcus is nowhere in sight.

  “The Watchers are launching a full-scale run of the perimeter. Take the men to the armory,” General Granby addresses Sage, who stands rigid and alert. Beyond him are neatly stacked lines of men and women, all in muted green uniforms, standing at attention. There must be about fifty of them. There’s no way we could survive a full-scale attack with only fifty soldiers. There’s hundreds of Enforcers at Crimson. No wonder Granby’s been on the hunt for recruits. “Get them armed immediately. They are to fan out and scour every square inch of the property.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sage salutes and the marches the men and women out the front entrance.

  General Granby turns to Glenn and me, still standing against the wall, trying our best to stay out of the way.

  “Come with me,” he commands and leads us down a seemingly endless corridor and into a dimly lit office. A huge, mahogany desk in front of a bookcase backdrop takes up nearly half of the room. In the other half are two simple wooden chairs and a plush loveseat cushioned between two side tables with lamps built into them.