Marcus’s face reddens, making his auburn hair appear flat brown. His expression deepens on his face and I can see a glistening in his eyes. He caresses my cheek with his knuckles, the way he always used to. My cheek burns where he brushes it. A good kind of burn, like lifting my face to accept the sun’s scorching rays. Marcus abruptly drops his hand shaking his head, as if denying the emotion, and then he’s gone and I stare at the wall in disbelief. I don’t know if he went back into the hall or down some corridor. All I know is that was the last time I’ll see him before he leaves.
Chapter 23
Our footsteps echo eerily down the empty corridors as Evie and I walk somberly back to our apartment. I told Glenn that I’d come back if there was still time, but I just can’t. I’m too confused, too upset. How am I supposed to interpret that final gesture from Marcus? He still loves me—I know he does. Or was he just trying to convince himself in a last ditch effort? Perhaps he just wanted me to have some closure, in case he doesn’t come back. If I’m being honest with myself, that would be the most plausible explanation.
I lay Evie down on her bed, leaving her in her dress. She begged to wear it to bed and tonight that’s not a battle I want to wage with her. Just as her eyes flutter closed, there’s a light tapping at the door. She doesn’t wake. I guess the evening was just as exhausting for her as it was for me.
I don’t know why I’m so surprised to see Glenn. I almost expected it to be him when I opened the door. I suppose I was hoping it would be Marcus, coming to tell me he’s had a change of heart and he forgives me. Yeah, only in my dreams. Either way, neither of them should be here now. They’re supposed to be sleeping in the upper levels tonight with the rest of the soldiers. They’ve got an early start tomorrow and they’ll be heading straight out the main entrance first thing in the morning.
“Glenn, aren’t you supposed to be upstairs?” I ask, wearily.
“They’re still in the assembly hall. And I wanted to say goodbye one last time. Without an audience.” I step out of the way, inviting him in. “I can’t stay long.”
I lean into his arms where he embraces me softly and leans his back against the wall, stroking my hair.
“Did you find Marcus?” he whispers.
“Yes.”
“How did it go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Pollen, don’t beat yourself up over him. We’ve all made mistakes. It’s his loss.”
“I know. I just hate that it has to end like this.”
Glenn straightens and tips my chin up, looking pointedly at me.
“Pollen, don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end. For any of us.”
“But you are going into battle. Some are going to fall. It’s inevitable.”
“Not Marcus. And not me. Don’t believe for a second that either one of us is not coming back.”
A buzzing noise emanates from Glenn’s hip and he looks down to turn his pager off.
“I have to go now.” I nod reluctantly and turn to open the door. Glenn stops me. “Can I have one more kiss? For good luck?” He smiles.
Since we are alone I offer a little something more. I reach up fanning my fingers behind his head and pull him down until his lips meet mine. Despite his dominant personality, he allows me to take the lead. My lips slowly glide along his and he submissively returns this kiss. I release his head, slowly sliding my fingers down the back of his jaw to his neck, finally resting on his bloated pectoralis muscles.
“Thank you,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against mine. After a moment he takes my left hand and kisses it. I watch him intently as he walks down the corridor and out of my sight, committing him to my memory, just in case the worst happens. Which it probably will. Most of the people I love die. I’m a death magnet.
I turn out the lights and settle into bed. Lying under the mess of covers, I stare out at the white line of light slipping under the door from the corridor, imagining a pair of shoes stopping and another knock at the door. But I know better. Marcus has already said his goodbye to me. He won’t be coming back. Not for me anyway.
“Auntie Pollen?” I didn’t realize Evie was awake.
“Go to sleep Evie,” I mumble, curling my hands into the blanket at my neck.
“Is my daddy alive?”
I’ve been evading this conversation for months now. I always seemed to find ways around it. I didn’t want to get her hopes up. But now I’m simply too tired to come up with any excuses.
“Maybe,” I say.
“Where is he?” Evie’s voice sounds so tiny in the dark, like the diminutive squeaking of a mouse.
“Uncle Glenn thinks he’s at Crimson.”
“Why didn’t I see him when we were there?”
“Because they had him in a special place.”
“Why?”
Because they captured him during war, sent home another man’s mangled body parts, and put him in solitary confinement. Oh yeah, and Uncle Glenn tortured the shit out of him. My bones shiver and I pull the blanket tightly over me, as if that would cease the tremors.
“I don’t know, Evie. Just go to sleep,” I yawn.
“Auntie Pollen?”
“Yes?”
“Are Marcus and Uncle Glenn coming back?”
“I hope so.”
* * *
I hate waiting rooms. All my life I avoided going to see the doctor whenever I could out of the acute repugnance for these atrocious rooms of terror. That’s probably where I developed my internal ticking clock. I always used to play off my illnesses as if they were nothing just so that my mom wouldn’t drag me to the doctor’s office so I could sit in nervous anticipation for thirty minutes and be seen by the doctor for five. The waiting was always a hundred times worse than the actual exam.
I’ve already studied the dark gray walls of the lobby and the patterns in the striped chairs that are welded together to form rows. I’ve been here countless times in the past few months. At least once every two weeks, sometimes more often. I keep telling myself to go check out a book at the library, but I never get around to doing it. I’ve never been much of a reader. My mind wanders even while I’m reading my textbooks, which I finished weeks ago, due to my abundance of time spent alone.
The white door swings open and Timber pops her face out.
“Hey, Pollen. You ready?” I smile and nod, pushing myself up off the seat as if I were eight months pregnant instead of almost five.
Once we’re in the privacy of my stark white examination room, she explodes with excitement.
“Did you hear?” she bubbles, excitedly.
“Hear what?”
“They’re going to let us move up early. They’re even opening up the training arenas outside today!” Now I get why she looks like a Liberation Day fireworks display. We haven’t seen the sun in months. I never did tell Timber about my tryst with Glenn under the moon. So technically I haven’t seen the sun in months.
“Seriously?” I ask suspiciously and she silently nods. “I’m totally going up today. Can you watch Evie?”
Timber’s smile melts a little bit. She was probably hoping we could train together. But without Marcus and Glenn here, I really don’t want to leave Evie in daycare. She needs familiar faces to watch over her.
“Sure,” she frowns. “Are you going to be okay by yourself? You know, Glenn and Marcus both asked me to babysit you.”
The words she said were almost like gibberish when I heard ‘Marcus’ come out of her mouth. His name sounded like the coo of a dove after a tumultuous explosion.
“Marcus?”
“Yes, Marcus. He’s still pissed at you Pollen, there’s no doubt about that. He’s hurt, deeply. But despite his attitude, he still loves you.”
Another piece of my heart is stitched back together. There is hope after all. He still cares about me. I shake my head to disperse my random thoughts.
“Wait did you say they asked you to babysit me?”
“Yeah, they’re both worried about
you. Afraid you might go and do something stupid, I think. Like training by yourself,” Timber says in a mocking tone.
“Timber, you said yourself they’re letting us up early. There won’t be anyone up there. Everyone who isn’t at Ceborec is still bunkered up. I’ll be perfectly safe. Plus, they wouldn’t let us out before doing a thorough sweep of the property, right?”
“You have a good point, Pollen. Okay, I’ll watch Evie today, but I’m going up tomorrow.” Timber tosses me my paper blanket. “You’d better hurry up. Dr. Sexy will be here any minute.” We both share a quick laugh as she leaves.
My day has just gotten remarkably brighter. Marcus still loves me and I get to bask in the glimmering rays of sunshine. There’s no better way for me to vent my fears and frustrations than running in the woods and shooting inanimate objects with paint bullets.
* * *
Above ground, the air feels like a convection oven, extremely dry and hot, but the gusty wind keeps it reasonably comfortable. I swear out of the corner of my eye I see steam rising from the ground. Serves me right for choosing to train during the hottest time of the day. I dressed light, wearing a simple henna tank top and knee-length khaki shorts. I’m wearing my Hemlex shoes, even though they are only meant for indoor training. I’m curious to see whether they’ll keep my footsteps silent on the rough, outdoor terrain. Plus, they’re extremely comfortable for running.
I was surprised to find that Harrison wasn’t at his usual post today. At first I thought maybe he was still tending the underground armory, but the new guy at the ammunitions station said he’d joined the militia. Has it really been that long since I’ve seen him? I thought they’d just pulled him aside to work the soldiers’ armory. I didn’t even see him at the assembly hall—I would have said goodbye if I had. Then again, just like Yoric and Marcus, it would have been very difficult to spot him without his trademark long striped hair.
For a period of time that flies by unnoticed, I simply lie out in the field just outside the woods and soak up the copper rays that filter through the rusty haze in the sky. I wonder what kind of pollution could have given the air that unusual tint. I’ve never seen that color in the sky before, at least not outside a major city.
A huge gusty wind interrupts my reverie and I decide it’s time to shoot something. I feel slightly awkward and out of balance running with this dome on my front side. It feels enormous to me, even though I know it will grow much bigger in the coming months. After a few minutes, though, I get into the rhythm. I used to love running when I was younger; I even placed in our high school’s track meets. Now I know why. The freedom, the thrill, the pulsing of electrical currents through my veins. This is when I truly feel alive.
I dash into the woods, maneuvering between the pines and the poplars and the sycamores, shooting at distant trees as I move. This has always been my greatest weakness and I’m determined to see it through. I don’t really know what exactly I’m looking for, but as soon as I spot a tree that could serve as a potential target I shoot, trying to simulate a real life or death situation where I don’t have time to react.
I miss every shot from my first magazine. It’s been almost a week since I’ve been to the shooting range so I stop and choose a distant tree to become the victim of some stationary shooting. I use up two more magazines while I readjust to the motions of shooting again. I can’t believe how out of practice I’ve become in just one week. Maybe I’m just a pound or two off balance.
Once again, I’m back on the move, this time slower, allowing myself more time to aim as I squeeze the trigger. I hit my target three out of eight times. I load my last magazine and pick up speed, hitting five out of eight times. An adrenaline rush pulses through me. The combination of running and hitting most of my targets has just put me in the mood for a more intense thrill. Something . . . stupid.
Timber’s voice echoes in my mind, “Don’t do anything stupid, Pollen. Don’t even think of following them.” She spoke those words as I left her with Evie. Sure, I thought about going out on my own, following the militia and doing my part to contribute to the mission. But that really would be stupid—even for me. If I were discovered, they’d just send me back and they would be short a soldier or two. And even if they didn’t see me, I couldn’t do anything crazy like that on my own. Not with paint bullets.
No, Marcus cared enough to ask Timber to watch over me, so I’ll respect his wishes. I won’t do anything that will put me in danger. I wonder what kind of thrill seeking adventure I can find out here that’s not too dangerous.
I stop to look around and I realize I have no idea where I am. I must have run pretty far to be this lost. Even beyond the haze I can see the sun is straight above me in the sky, and I’ve been zigzagging through the trees, so I can’t tell which way is which at this point. I contemplate briefly whether I should keep moving or stay put and wait for the sun to move. It’d take too long if I wait and Timber and Evie will be expecting me. I choose to keep walking. I’ll eventually hit the perimeter at some point and run into a Watcher standing guard.
I continue to walk for about twenty more minutes, then, ahead in a clearing, I see a uniformed Watcher facing me. That’s funny, I thought they were supposed to be facing the other way.
“Halt, ma’am,” says the husky Watcher. His hair looks mussed and he glares at me through his black sunglasses. “This is private property.”
“I’m Pollen McRae. I live here.” I turn my head from side to side, trying to figure out how I got outside the perimeter. I must’ve been so lost in my thoughts that I just simply wasn’t paying attention. “How did I get out here?” I ask myself aloud.
“Miss McRae?” The Watcher lowers his gaze to my belly than back up. “I’m sorry. We’re a little understaffed today, you must have slipped through and circled around. I’ll be happy to escort you back.” The Watcher offers his hand, but I decline as politely as I can.
“It’s okay, I’ll go on my own. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble for leaving your post.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about me. You seem pretty lost. I’d feel much better if I saw you safely back.”
I press my lips together in a hard line and force the edges to curl up while I nod. I don’t know this man, and even if he is here to protect me I don’t like the idea of him accompanying me on my long walk back. I just want to be alone with my thoughts.
After we’ve walked what seems like two miles something in my gut feels wrong. I still don’t recognize this stretch of woods. And this guy is emitting some creepy silent vibes. As I study him from the corner of my eye, my foot catches on a protruding tree root and I manage to land on my hands before my belly touches down.
The Watcher scrambles to help me up, losing his sunglasses to gravity in the process. He stares at me, a fulfilling satisfaction glowing in his pupils, as the terror takes hold of me. The white of his eye bears the triangle tattoo with a black dot in the center. The mark of the Trinity. He is not a Watcher. He is a bounty hunter.
Fear grips both of my lungs in a double fisted choke hold. My heart balloons into my throat as the panic sets in. I barely have a chance to gasp, when just out of my vision his hand comes down behind me. A striking pain hits me like lightning, inducing the blackness that dissolves me.
Chapter 24
My head is in agonizing pain—like someone is rhythmically stabbing it at the base where it meets my neck. I try to turn it from side to side, but that just sends more pain shooting throughout my skull. I swear I hear a crackling when I shift my head. Did he break my skull? Maybe it’s whatever I’m lying on. A plastic bag, or something.
My eyelids are heavy as lead, and I crack them open just enough to see the blackness framed with broken yellow lines. Are we in the Web? I can’t be in a train if I’m seeing the ceiling, but I’m moving fast—I can feel the air whipping loose strands of hair into my face.
I hear a groan and when I see the dark outline of the bounty hunter look down at me I know the sound came from my own lu
ngs. I shut my eyes quickly, but it’s too late. Another blow lands on the side of my skull, sending me into another deep darkness.
* * *
“Ahh.” This time I moan quietly before I even open my eyes. I’m stationary now. No wind splashing my face. No movement rippling my body around. No jarring vibrations to send my screaming skull into a death wish, although the hard surface underneath my head earns a close second place. Something is vaguely familiar about my position despite my refusal to open my eyes. The musty smell. The cold, hard surface I’m lying on. The restraints that bind my ankles and hold my wrists in place by my sides. The vise holding my aching head upright. I’m back at Crimson.
I squeeze my eyelids tighter together, willing myself to go back to sleep. An eternal sleep. I just can’t take anymore. It’s not worth it. At least Evie is safe. She’ll be safe with Timber. Timber will make a good mother to her. And if Drake or Glenn or Marcus makes it back alive, she’ll have a father, too. She doesn’t need me anymore. I can rest with my parents now. I’m ready.
But it’s hopeless. I can’t will myself to die any more than I can will the restraints to open and set me free. As much as I try, it’s impossible.
With anchors of apprehension weighing down my eyelids, I weakly heave them open. I’m stunned to find that I am not in the medical exam room like I was the first time I was brought back and buckled to the table. Instead, I’m in a darkened sepulchral room.
Since my head is secured in place, I can’t see anything other than the still shadows that paint the dark gray ceiling above. There are no overhead lights, so I’m not sure what is illuminating the room. There’s a strange vibration to the dim light that reminds me of when my dad used to fall asleep on the couch watching TV. I’d sometimes get up in the middle of the night for a drink and that eerie vibrating glow from the living room would freak me out.
Crimson Return Page 18