Crimson Return

by Daelynn Quinn

  It’s extremely uncomfortable—the hard metal digs into my skin, but I can handle it. It takes my mind off the aching in my belly and it won’t be much longer until we find Marcus and the others.

  We pass through a series of corridors before Drake begins to slow down and twist around in confusion.

  “I can’t tell which doors they are. It’s too dark.”

  “Here,” I say, handing him the flashlight. My energy is quickly deteriorating, and I know I must leave Crimson soon, before I pass out.

  Drake switches on the light, flashing it on the door in front of us. He moves down the corridor to the next door down and then the next, where he halts.

  “This is one of them,” he says, shining the light on me. His eyes widen and his jaw drops suddenly. “Pollen, you’re pregnant? Is that blood?”

  I’m slumped against the wall now, almost too weak to stand on my feet. I gaze down at my belly to see the once white sock saturated with blood so dark it could be confused with byrchberry syrup.

  “I’ve got to get you out of here,” he cries, bending down to lift me. I dodge out of his grasp, still holding tight to the wall so I don’t fall.

  “No! We have to get Marcus and Glenn first.” Our voices are no longer tiny whispers, but borderline shouting.

  “Glenn? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Do you know what he did to me?” Drake flashes the light on his bare arms revealing hundreds of round burns like the ones Marcus has. “These are butterfly kisses compared to the other shit he inflicted on me.”

  “I know what he did, Drake,” I mutter. “He told me. Please, just trust me. He’s one of us now. We need to rescue him.”

  Drake shakes his head. “I’ll have no part in it. Who’s this other guy we’re getting? Was he one of them too?”

  “No. Marcus is my life. I won’t leave without him.” Drake studies me skeptically.

  “Drake, if it were Ivy in one of these chambers, what would you do?”

  Drake looks down deeply in thought. “Okay, let’s do this. But if he’s not in here I’m not wasting my time or yours looking for him. I’m getting you out of here.”

  I nod reluctantly.

  Drake turns the latch and the door opens. The room appears empty at first. Drake flashes the light in the center of the room, where a metal table, like the one I was strapped on stands upright. Nobody is on it.

  Drake pulls me into the room further, but I pause. There’s nobody here to rescue. He keeps moving forward without me, and I wonder what is drawing him into the room. He crosses behind the table and shines is light on it, signaling me with his hand to join him.

  As I approach, I realize what he was seeing. Somebody is on the table after all. But it is tilted backwards so that his feet are in the air.

  “Yoric?”

  “Who is that?” he mumbles as if he’s just been woken up from a deep sleep.

  “Yoric, it’s Pollen,” I say. Then I turn to Drake. “How do we get him out of this?”

  “The controls are over there. I’ll see what I can do,” Drake says. I try to think back to what Respa did when she released me, but I couldn’t see since she was behind me. I hope Drake can figure it out promptly.

  After about a minute passes, the restraints pop open and Yoric tumbles on top of me. I try to help him to his feet, but I just don’t have the strength.

  “Where are Marcus and Glenn?” I ask.

  “We got separated,” Yoric says, crawling up unsteadily. Drake has returned and grips Yoric under the arms, lifting him up. “Glenn is across the hall, but I don’t know where Marcus is.” Drake stiffens at Glenn’s name.

  “Ow, man. Watch it,” Yoric gripes, yanking his arm away from Drake. Even in the darkness I can see his face is bruised and bloody. I’m almost too scared to see what Glenn and Marcus look like.

  “Let’s get them.” I weakly stumble toward the door. Drake hooks my arm, stopping me.

  “Pollen, no.”

  I try unsuccessfully to loosen my arm from his grip. “I’m not leaving without them, Drake.” He continues to glare down at me. “Are you coming or not?”

  “Fine,” he says. “But I swear Glenn will not last long after we leave here.”

  I hold tight to Drake’s arm as we cross the corridor. I’m glad I have him to hold on to now—the pain in my belly is sinking into my core, making the simple task of standing as difficult as balancing a high wire.

  Yoric opens the door, but Drake just stands there motionless. I seize the flashlight from his other hand and stagger into the chamber. There’s no table in this one. In fact, it looks rather medieval. On the wall are various primitive torture devices: whips, canes, and other instruments I can’t even begin to identify. Glenn is hanging by his wrists, tied to a thick rope in the center of the room. His toes dangle, just barely scratching the floor. His shirt has been ripped off and lies in shreds circling his feet.

  I find it odd that there were no Enforcers in either room. I suppose the guys Drake just killed were meant to be stationed here.

  “Glenn,” I try to run to him, but my legs turn to liquid and I end up tumbling over, skinning my knee on the cragged surface of the floor.

  “Pollen! What the hell are you doing here?” he scolds. The anger in his voice stings. Before I can clamor to my knees, Drake is already hoisting me off the floor.

  Yoric circles Glenn, looking at the rope. “Some help here guys?”

  “Yeah, right,” says Drake. “You’re on your own, man. He can rot in here for all I care.”

  “Drake!” I snap.

  “Turn the knob on the panel,” Glenn instructs.

  Drake shakes his head. “Damn.” Drake hangs on to me as he walks to the control panel and turns a large, smooth knob. I watch curiously as the rope lowers, setting Glenn’s feet back on the surface. Yoric reaches up, carefully untying the knots.

  “Ahh!” Glenn shouts. “Watch the back!”

  “Sorry, dude,” Yoric responds.

  I start to walk toward Glenn, but Drake stops me once again. This time I find the strength to rip my arm away, but I don’t have far to go. Glenn runs to me and embraces me before my body begins to plummet once again. He presses his body against me and I wince.

  “What’s the matter?” he asks, crouching down so that his eyes are level with mine.

  “I’ve been shot.”

  “What?”

  “I’m okay. Let’s get Marcus.”

  “Pollen you’re not okay. It’s not too dark to see how pale you are. You’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Not without Marcus,” I cry.

  “Yoric and I will get him. You and Drake get out of here. Now.”

  “No!” I rip myself away from Glenn, finding some reserve energy to keep me upright, albeit staggering. “Nobody is leaving my sight.” I pull the guns out of my waistband and shove one into Glenn’s hands. I turn to Yoric and hand him the other. “We all stay together!” I demand.

  The tone of authority in my voice surprises even myself. Nobody argues with me. My stubbornness becomes me.

  The only way to find Marcus now is to check each room. I’m still holding the flashlight but my body is so weak that I can’t move fast enough.

  “Hey guys,” Nicron calls out from the corridor. “We’ve got company.”

  As we leave the room, a commotion stirs our attention down the corridor from where we came. Enforcers are pouring down the hall, too many to count in the darkness.

  Drake and Nicron toss some metal chairs, carts and tables out into the corridor, creating a makeshift barricade. Glenn pushes me back into the room just before the bullets begin to fly. But I’m not about to give up now. With Drake’s expert aim, I trust that I am in safe hands.

  Drake, Nicron, Glenn, and Yoric duck behind the barricade, shooting between the empty gaps. I dart out into the corridor behind the guys, crouching down to avoid any stray bullets. I hold on to the wall as I descend further down the corridor. When I reach the next room I open the door and duck inside
. I scan the room thoroughly with my flashlight, but it is empty.

  I dash across the corridor, collapsing on to the door as I open it and slink inside. The shootout has wound down and I’m scared to look back for fear that someone didn’t make it. Or to see if Drake turned his gun on Glenn. Oh, please, no. My breath is heavy and uneven. The room starts to spin and I feel like I could pass out at any second. I switch on the flashlight.

  There, in the center of the room is Marcus, lying flat on an examination table. I can’t tell if he is awake or not because his head is in a vise and he’s not moving.

  “Marcus?”

  Chapter 29

  “Pollen?” His whisper floats through the air, sounding like a serenade to my ears.

  I shuffle to him, grasping my wound, imagining that my holding it will make it stop hurting. It doesn’t.

  As I approach, I tilt the flashlight up toward the ceiling, away from his face so I don’t blind him, and so he can see me.

  “Marcus!” I gasp, falling onto him. But it’s not just my happiness to see him that draws me to him—my legs have given out under me. If the table hadn’t been here, I’d have fallen flat on my face again.

  My cheek rests against Marcus’s bare chest; his shirt has also been removed. Warm moisture glides between our touching skin and I realize I’m crying.

  “What are you doing here?” he asks, agitated.

  “She’s in here!” Yoric cries out behind me. I hear a shuffle of footsteps, but can’t bring myself to pull away from Marcus.

  “Pollen!” A wave of relief washes over me when I hear Glenn’s voice. Drake hasn’t killed him . . . yet.

  “I need the light,” Drake calls out. Glenn takes the flashlight from my hand and flashes it over Marcus and me.

  “Damn, Marcus,” Glenn whispers. I pull my head back to see what he is looking at. The warm liquid I felt wasn’t my tears. It was blood. A pattern of red slices decorate Marcus’s abdomen and chest. On the other side of the table is a tray with an assortment of sharp instruments: scalpels, pokers, wire cutters, and a vast collection of knives.

  Tears gush out of my eyes at the sight of him.

  “Don’t,” he says. “I’m fine.”

  Nicron joins us across the table, straining to open Marcus’s impenetrable restraints.

  “Hold on, Marcus, we’re gonna get you out of here,” Nicron says.

  “Light!” Drake yells, exasperated. Glenn tosses the flashlight across the room, where I assume Drake catches it quietly. A few seconds later, Marcus’s restraints are released.

  I push myself off of Marcus to allow him get up, but my legs still aren’t quite working and I slide down. Glenn catches me just before I hit the floor and lifts me into his arms.

  The tension in the room has multiplied tenfold—a triangle of anger and jealousy with me in the center. Just like the mark of the Trinity. For once, I’m glad it’s Glenn who is carrying me, and not Marcus. While I want nothing more than to be in Marcus’s arms, to assure me everything is okay between us, Glenn’s holding me ensures his safety. Drake won’t attack Glenn while I’m so close to him. Not yet anyway.

  “She’s shot,” Glenn announces when Marcus raises his eyebrows.

  “Give her to me,” Drake shouts, pushing his way to us.

  “No!” I object, glaring at Drake, and he stops in his tracks.

  “Who’s this?” Marcus demands.

  “Drake,” Glenn responds tersely.

  “I’m her brother,” Drake barks.

  “Her dead brother?” My eyes meet Marcus’s confused expression and I nod gently.

  “Drake, lead us back down to solitary. We need to get to the Web,” I mumble.

  “We can’t,” Glenn interrupts. “The reserve power keeps the door activated. We can’t get out without an Enforcer’s ID.”

  “I launched the system override. We can get out. We have to hurry.” Glenn gazes down into my eyes with an appreciation I’ve never before seen from him. I’m not the completely helpless waif he’s always viewed me as. The corners of his lips curve up.

  Before we leave, Glenn circles the table and sets me down on it while he swipes two knives: a large serrated one and a small scalpel. He crams them into his pocket and lifts me again.

  “What are those for?” I ask.

  “Just in case,” he answers.

  Drake tosses his spare gun to Marcus and leads us down the dark corridors, dodging the heaps of dead bodies, back to the stairwell. Glenn continues to carry me and I don’t argue. I can feel myself on the verge of losing consciousness.

  Suddenly, we are back in the gloomy grid of the solitary level. Glenn and I lead the way through the labyrinth since he is the only one who knows how to navigate it.

  As I drift in and out of consciousness I feel the shuffle of footsteps beneath me. I can’t tell how fast we’re going, but it seems to last an eternity. My arms tighten around Glenn’s neck and I nuzzle his sweat-laced chest with my cheek. But when I look up at him again I see Marcus. Who is carrying me? I must be hallucinating. I inhale the scent, which is salty and musky like Glenn. But his muscled frame is carved and sculpted like Marcus. Glenn or Marcus. That is the ultimate question. Which do I love? Can I love both of them equally? Do I have a choice?

  I can hear faint whispers of a conversation going on behind us.

  “What is she doing here?”

  “She wasn’t with you guys?”.

  “No, of course not!”

  “Where’re the others?”

  “I don’t know. We completed our objective and were on our way out when she found us.”

  Suddenly the overhead lights buzz on and I’m jolted into consciousness. Glenn stops dead in his tracks. I glance up at his bruised face. His eyes widen in terrifying awareness. But he doesn’t need to tell me anything. I know exactly what he is thinking. The power is back on, which means the door to the Web is secure. We can’t get out this way.

  Glenn turns back to the others, and for the first time I can really see Drake. His skin is paler than mine, his cheeks and occipital cavities are deeply sunk. Put a set of fangs in his mouth and he’d pass for a classic horror film vampire. The sight of Marcus, with his broken, bloody chest, continues to scratch at my broken heart. At least they left his face alone, I think, trying to placate myself.

  Marcus’s eyes meet mine and neither of us can seem to pull them apart. The connection is too deep. I can see it now. The love is still there. He can’t fight it much longer. But the pain is just as deep. It’s killing him to see me in Glenn’s arms.

  “Glenn, can we still get out?” Yoric asks, breathless.

  “Not without an Enforcer’s handprint and retinal ID. We’ll have to find another way.”

  “How did you guys get in?” Drake cuts in. “We’ll go that way.”

  “Impossible,” Glenn says, deep in thought.

  “We came in through a secret adjacent facility—where they are building the shuttle. They’ve already sent a battalion there to cover the location.”

  Drake looks confused at the discussion of a shuttle, but doesn’t waste time asking unnecessary questions.

  “So how do we get out?”

  “We’ll have to go above ground and fight our way out—”

  An echo of heavy stomping and angry voices interrupts the discussion. Glenn dashes with me to the next intersection and we duck behind the corner with Drake following us. Yoric, Nicron, and Marcus settle in the opposite corner across the corridor. A twinge of pain vibrates through me as Glenn gently sets me down on the icy stone floor, pinned between him and Drake.

  “Don’t move,” he says, then he stands up with his back against the wall, in deep concentration. His head nods almost imperceptibly in a steady rhythm and then I realize he’s counting. He looks over to others across the corridor, holding up ten of his fingers, and then two. They nod and ready their guns.

  I pull my own gun from my holster. The magazine still has three bullets left. I know they won’t let me fight, but I k
eep it in hand, just in case.

  The commotion draws nearer and Glenn’s eye bulges out of its socket.

  “They’re spreading,” he whispers to Drake. Drake nods and takes his place, standing against the wall on the other side of me. The Enforcers will be coming at us from all directions. This is bad. Yoric and Marcus watch Glenn intently as he points down each corridor. Yoric positions himself as Drake does, turning his back to us and staring down the corridor. Nicron stands against the opposite wall, ready for an attack from behind.

  Glenn turns and carefully inches his face out, peering down the corridor. The first shots ring out and he pulls back violently. Taking a deep breath he swings his gun out into the corridor, shoots quickly, and draws back in one swift move. Marcus does the same across the corridor, staying low to the ground as he does.

  I’m startled when I hear the shot ring out right by my ear and I turn around to see the body of an Enforcer that Drake just shot lying in a pool of blood.

  Shots continue to resonate behind me and I turn back toward Marcus. He was right to deny me the opportunity to join the militia. I never could have done this. Not because I’m scared for myself; I can handle the idea of dying. And I’ve already been shot so that can’t scare me anymore either. No, I can’t bear the thought of watching my love die. It’s too much. My fear of losing Marcus or Glenn incapacitates me and I’d be useless on the battlefield.

  Beyond Yoric and Marcus, in the next intersection, an Enforcer pulls out and fires his weapon. I flinch. He misses and Yoric returns fire, missing as well. Marcus looks down at his gun angrily, pulling out the empty magazine.

  “Marcus!” I shout. As he looks up at me I slide my gun across the floor to him. His lip draws up slightly at the corner and he nods to me. Yoric turns back toward me, distracted.

  A shot rings out again and I gasp in horror as Yoric falls to the floor. Marcus is oblivious, his attention still turned toward the main corridor, shooting at some unseen Enforcer. Behind me, Drake is shooting again at someone else.

  A yelp turns my frightened attention back toward the opposite corridor and I see Nicron fall, grasping his thigh, his face wrinkled in pain.