“What was her name? Why did she give me up? Who is my real dad? Is he still alive? Is she? And how are you even here? You died in a fire!” Gabi could only mouth her last words as her voice failed and her lungs screamed in protest.
Cleo shook her head and urged the canteen back up to Gabi’s lips. “There will be time for questions later, I promise. There’s a lot to tell. Your mother’s name was Artis. She was a scientist for the FCC.”
“What’s that?”
“The Free Coastal Confederacy. It’s made up of all the former United States territories unclaimed by Unitas, which includes everything east of the Appalachians and west of the Rockies.”
“But that’s… I thought almost everything was Unitas, except for a few remote villages along the coasts.”
Cleo’s face grew thunderous. “That’s what all the fellows have been programmed to think, and it was almost true. Fuel supplies crashed during the Strain. Air travel was cut off, and the flooded coastal cities made access impossible by sea. People tried to get through, but there was too much debris and building wreckage to navigate without sonar. The fundamentalists had a huge advantage when the Strain hit. They had hoarded so many resources and packed the government with their own. People were traumatized by watching things fall apart, my family included. They were immigrants, Somali Muslims, and they gave up everything to stay alive.” Walker’s voice caught.
“What happened to them?” Gabi asked tentatively.
“Someone saw my father doing wudu, his ritual washing before prayer, in the men’s room at work and turned him in. He was taken from our house in the middle of the night. My family and I were transferred to Alder and never saw him again. I became a Witness to protect them.”
“Wait,” Gabi interjected, “so you never really believed, but you managed to become the most famous Apostle in Unitas history? How is that possible?”
“Turns out I had a knack for Witness work. Not the conversion part, but the expeditions. I wasn’t afraid, but the more I saw of what lay beyond the branches, the more convinced I became that Unitas was just a false front for using religion as a means of control. By the time I knew for sure that I was right, I had opened up a lot of territory for the Witnesses to move into. The people they call ‘Tribes’ trusted me, and I betrayed that trust to keep my own family safe. I might never be absolved, but I’m willing to die trying. I almost did.”
“The fire?”
“Yes,” Cleo said, turning up her palms to reveal the shiny pink skin covering them like hardened plastic. “Worth every scar.”
“But what does any of this have to do with me or my real parents?”
“I met your mother during my last mission. She was working at a field station on the outskirts of the capital.”
“You mean Babylon?”
Cleo’s face tightened. “There is no Babylon. The FCC is divided into bioregions, and each has a capital to govern it based on its unique sociopolitical needs and ecology. When the waters consumed the coastal cities, those residents who didn’t flee to the interior were relocated to the mountains, along with those who left the fellowship when they saw what Unitas was up to. The survivors held out until the ports could be dredged and the first shipments of foreign aid made it through. That was about twenty years ago. By the time I met your mother, the FCC had just gained its footing.”
“All this time?” Gabi said numbly. “How could we not hear about it?”
“Unitas’s hold on the population is strong because it exists beyond reason, at the level of faith. There was no denying the devastation of the Strain, and it looked a whole lot like the Apocalypse. People believed, and that belief was used against them. That’s where your mom came in.” Gabi gathered the animal pelt closer around her, straining toward every word. “Your mother was convinced that since the fellowship manipulated people with faith, that was where the battle had to be fought. The doctrine hinges on people believing in a literal translation of the Bible. Your mother’s mission was to disprove that literal translation, which she did by taking on the creation myth itself. She thought it was the only way to liberate people without a civil war.”
“What about my father?” Gabi asked.
Walker rose into a squat, scanning the woods with avid eyes as she bounced on her heels. “Your real father,” Cleo said, “was an anonymous donor. All your mother knew of him was his ID number and genetic profile.”
“What!” Gabi screeched, wriggling out of the animal pelt. “You mean I came from a test tube like some freak! Is that why I’ve always been sick?”
“No!” Walker said, cutting her off. “You came from your mother and a very intelligent, healthy man with good genes. You are the mirror image of Artis, and don’t forget it. She was a special woman. She saved my life.”
“But—”
Cleo held up her hand. “Listen, we’re running out of time. I’ve told you all this because I need you to trust me, but know this. I found your mother’s field station because I was running for my life. I took Ames and another Witness, a new recruit, out on a scouting mission from our base camp. At some point, I lost Ames and the recruit. Next thing I knew, Ames ambushed me and came at me with a knife. He’d sent the recruit back to camp and tried to kill me because he knew I was having doubts about Unitas. I ran until I came across the field station. Your mother was there, heavily pregnant. She begged me to take her back to Alder, insisting that you needed to be born at the Care Center. Ames went back to camp and fabricated some story about a Tribal attack, sure that I’d bleed to death. The other Witnesses insisted on forming a search party and found us. I kept Ames’s secret for the sake of getting the team and your mother to the Care Center quickly.” Walker leaped to her feet and looked toward the sound of branches snapping under heavy boots.
“Is she still alive?” Gabi whispered, staring blankly into the fire.
“Your mother died saving lives. She began to hemorrhage from the birth after we left the Care Center. Ames had followed us with a handpicked team, having convinced them that I was a traitor. I took Artis to a village clinic just before Ames set fire to everything. We tried to get people out, but my own burns were so bad that I couldn’t touch anyone. Your mother collapsed from blood loss and smoke inhalation and was already dead when I reached her. I had dragged myself out and as far into Tribal territory as I could when FCC scouts found me.” Cleo reached down and grabbed Gabi by her chin, forcing the girl’s eyes to hers. “Your mother saved me, and now I am going to save you. I will try to do the same for your friends and brother, but Ames is blinded by power. There’s nothing more dangerous than a desperate man. Get up now. It’s time.”
“Cleo?” Gabi said as she kicked free of the pelt, pins and needles prickling in her legs as she stood.
“What?” Cleo said, eyes hardening as she drew a hunting knife from her utility belt.
“Those people you’re with—are they Lilim?”
“Let her go!” a voice barked as Mathew burst into the glade; Marnie, Jordan, and the rest of the Witnesses close behind. Cleo spun Gabi around so that the woman’s steel-banded forearm locked across her upper chest. The knife blade bit into the tender hollow behind Gabi’s earlobe.
“If my soldiers are Lilim,” Cleo rasped in her ear, “then so are you.”
Chapter NINETEEN
EIGHTEEN GUNS. Gabi counted them from the hatch in her mind. Eighteen guns pointed right at her chest. She was halfway through the hatch but too curious about what might unfold to go entirely away. She knew the guns were meant for Cleo, but something about having her brother and friends on the other end of those weapons made the distinction inconsequential as the other Witnesses and Sykes forced their way into the clearing. Apostle Ames joined them, strolling into the glade with the lazy satisfaction of a cat approaching a dish of warm milk, until the identity of Gabi’s captor dawned across his face and those of the armed Witnesses. One by one the guns were lowered, except for Mathew’s. A knife was still a knife, and the wicked blade Cleo Walker held
to Gabi’s throat appeared on the verge of separating her head from her neck.
“Walker, is that you?” asked Sykes, eyes popping in wonder as she stepped toward Cleo.
“Raise your weapons!” Ames ordered as he burst into the circle of light cast by the fire.
“But, sir, it’s—”
“I am well aware of who it is, Sykes. She is a traitor and a danger to the fellowship.”
“Shouldn’t we at least—”
“Take aim!” A vein writhed in Ames’s forehead. Reluctantly, the Witnesses pointed their guns at Cleo.
“Let her go,” Mathew demanded, edging closer to Cleo and holding out a hand to Gabi.
“I’ll do the talking here,” Ames growled.
“No,” Cleo said calmly. “I will talk, and you are going to listen.”
“I hardly think you’re in a position to give orders,” Ames blustered.
“Oh, I disagree. Lower your weapons and no one gets hurt.” Gabi felt Cleo give a subtle nod. Dozens of the black-clad figures who had disappeared into the forest rematerialized, encircling the clearing in a human wall. The Witnesses turned their backs to each other, drawing into a defensive knot.
“Hand her over!” Ames ordered. Cleo tightened her arm around Gabi’s chest.
“And why should you care so much about one girl, Burtie, and the daughter of your least favorite councilman no less? I would think you’d be happy to deal Brother Lowell such a blow. Oh wait, I’m forgetting something. You need this girl, don’t you?” Cleo increased the pressure across Gabi’s chest yet again, forcing more air out of her lungs.
“Stop,” Marnie yelled, “you’re hurting her!”
“Just let her go,” Mathew pleaded. “Here.” He lowered his gun and kicked it across the ground toward Cleo. “I’m Mathew, Sam Lowell’s son. Take me instead.”
“No!” Gabi gasped. She didn’t think Cleo would hurt her, but if Mathew did something impulsive to free her, things would get out of control quickly. She had to keep him safe, but her head was growing light, and she didn’t know how long she could remain conscious. Her traumatized lungs were unequal to the task of resisting the crushing pressure of Cleo’s arm.
“Give us the girl and Fiske and we’ll take you in alive,” Ames said, picking up Mathew’s gun. “Otherwise I’ll shoot you myself.”
“The boy drowned,” Cleo stated. “He’ll be returned to his family so they can mourn him properly.” Shocked murmurs and an uneasy shuffling broke out among the Witnesses.
“As if you could be trusted to honor the dead,” Ames snarled, taking a step toward Cleo. She pressed the knifepoint deeper into Gabi’s throat, clutching the girl tighter still. Gabi’s head began to pound as Marnie muttered a violent curse.
“Tell you what, Burtie,” Cleo said. “If you tell your Witnesses the truth about Unitas, I’ll call off my troops and send you on your way.”
Ames cut his eyes toward his teams and snarled at Cleo. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Cleo rolled her eyes. “Give it up, Burtie. You and I both know that your advance teams have been raiding FCC warehouses for years to keep the fellowship supplied, then pillaging to create the myth of savage Tribes and now these ‘Lilim.’ Tell your Witnesses how you and the council have known about the Free Coastal Confederacy from the beginning but kept it under wraps with your reign of terror. I hear you’ve done quite a job of it out east too. Almost pulled it off. I guess I taught you too well.”
The Witnesses grew more restive, shooting baffled looks at Ames.
“Sir, what is she talking about?” Sykes asked, lowering her weapon. “Is it true about the advance teams?”
“Hold your targets!” Ames thundered. “She’s a traitor in league with the devil! There is no FCC! Follow her and see for yourself, but you’ll be walking right into a slaughter at the hands of the Lilim!”
“Is that so?” Cleo asked, her tone as light as if they were chatting over tea. “Well, let’s hear from an eyewitness, shall we? Front and center, Ingles.” All heads turned as the thin figure who had delivered the news of the Witnesses’ approach stepped forward into the firelight. He withdrew a kerchief from his breast pocket and wiped the paint from his skin, revealing the gaunt face of Marcus, the living skeleton from the Care Center.
Gabi gasped, her knees turning to water. That was why she’d recognized the soldier’s eyes, though the last time she had seen them, they’d been bugged out with bloodlust and hunger for his friend’s flesh. He was more filled out, but his body remained frail, and horror still haunted his face.
“My name is Marcus Ingles,” the man said, turning to face the Witnesses. “I am a border patrol officer with the FCC. My partner, Nicolas, and I were attacked one day out on patrol. We were badly beaten, abandoned, then found by an advance Witness team and brought back to the Care Center in Alder Branch. Nicolas died from his injuries, which I now know was because he was never treated. My wounds were tended to, but I began to starve. The doctors told me it was because I had contracted a terrible illness that caused my body to reject food. They put me on some kind of dialysis machine that altered my blood somehow. When I was on the verge of death, they brought in Nicolas, and—” Marcus covered his face with his hands, shoulders shaking.
“That will do, Ingles,” Cleo said. “You’re dismissed.”
“This is obscene,” Ames brayed. “I’m not going to stand here and let you poison my team against me!” He charged toward Cleo, but before his first footfall landed, Marcus lashed out and disarmed him, catching him in a headlock and pressing the gun to his temple.
“Genetic modification was the fellowship’s strategy to justify a seek-and-destroy mission to exterminate the last holdouts,” Cleo explained to the shocked Witnesses. “Unitas has been losing ground for years, so they decided to make use of their secret weapon. You see, they found a way to reactivate traits that get suppressed in human DNA as we adapt to our environments, and I’m not talking fur coats and webbed feet. I’m talking cannibalism.”
Gabi’s stomach roiled at the memory of Marcus’s bloody, grasping lips, and the temple in Spruce.
Cleo ratcheted her grip tighter. “By altering DNA, Unitas scientists hoped to create the perfect demon to strike such fear in the hearts of their fellows that no defensive action would be judged too severe. They did their Frankenstein work, and when they were sure they had their cannibals, they planted them around the FCC. They assumed the modified humans would wreak havoc and send people running to Unitas for shelter. They needed to centralize everyone before the FCC could get to them. That’s why the outer branches have been so ill-supplied in the last decade or so. The council was trying to starve them closer.”
“Oh God,” Marnie moaned, going a sickly green. “That’s why those poor people at Spruce looked so torn up. Cannibals.”
Gabi wanted to reach out a hand to steady her friend, but it was all she could do to keep her own eyes open as her lungs became vacuums.
“No,” Walker said. “The people who attacked Spruce, and Marcus and Nicholas when they were on patrol, were advance Witness teams in disguise. They burned, killed, then set wild dogs loose on the place to make it look like the ‘Lilim’ had paid a visit. It’s a strategy they’ve been employing for months.”
Jordan’s face went slack and he sank to his knees.
“On your feet, recruit, that’s an order!” Ames bellowed, his arms restrained by two of Cleo’s soldiers while Marcus kept the gun at his temple. Jordan looked directly at Ames; then he laid down his gun and pushed it toward Cleo. “Mutiny!” Ames screamed. “Treason! I’ll have you executed!”
There was a movement at the edge of the clearing as another soldier lunged toward the light, but the figure was stilled by a sharp look from Cleo.
“What the scientists failed to consider,” Marcus continued as though Ames was not thrashing at gunpoint like a dying fish on a hook, “is that traits like cannibalism must be reinforced by social norms. Tinkering with DNA can’t chan
ge the person someone has spent a lifetime becoming. As soon as the scientists’ guinea pigs were back home, where we were fed and cared for by our own communities, any willingness to eat human flesh vanished.” Marcus’s words echoed in Gabi’s ears as oblivion beckoned. It all made terrible sense.
“Ha!” Ames crowed, twisting his neck to challenge Marcus eyeball to eyeball so that the soldier’s gun pressed between his eyebrows. “If you think you’re going to sway anyone with your fairy tales about evolution, you are badly mistaken. A Witness would never question that men are made in God’s image, and every one of them would die to defend his Word.”
“Not if the Word is a lie,” Cleo hissed, pressing the knife deeper into Gabi’s flesh until the skin broke and a trickle of warm blood inched down her neck. Why was Cleo suffocating her? The knifepoint had begun to feel oddly delicious as it dug in behind her ear. Gabi’s knees buckled so that it was only the pressure of Cleo’s arm across her chest that kept her upright. A shrill chorus of protest from Marnie, Jordan, and Mathew erupted as she sagged toward the ground.
“Let her go!” Mathew shouted, lurching toward Cleo, but two of Cleo’s soldiers stepped forward to flank him, warning hands on their holsters.
“You’ve already realized the truth, haven’t you, Burtie?” Cleo snapped. “Or you wouldn’t be willing to endanger yourself to get the council’s secret weapon back. You know that when people see what she really is, Unitas will lose its power and fall apart.”
“Cleo,” Gabi wheezed. Her head lolled onto the woman’s chest and her vision faded. “I can’t….”
“Yes, you can,” Cleo whispered, clamping a hand over Gabi’s mouth and pinching her nostrils closed. “You have to.”
Then, everything happened at once. Gabi felt the blade slice through the skin behind her ear, once then twice, before Cleo yanked Gabi’s chin the other way and did the same on the other side. Searing pain swelled as blood gushed down Gabi’s neck.
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