by Unknown
And then finally, she began to share. It was exactly what I’d been waiting for. Her voice was so quiet, I could barely hear her at first. “The man you met. The one who’s not my boss?”
I held my breath.
“That’s Richard Burke III, my fiance.”
“Really? Richard Burke? I thought I recognized him. He’s your fiance?”
She nodded.
“I’ve seen him in celebrity vids. I hadn’t realized he was…involved with anyone.”
Her voice was like ice. “He hasn’t been an eligible bachelor for a long time.”
I studied her carefully. “He’s part of the Resistance, like you.” It wasn’t a question, and I was taking a big risk. Now that she’d begun to open up, I didn’t want her to shut down, but I just couldn’t help myself. “He’s pretty high in the chain of command, I’d wager. You both are.”
“Um…I need to make a call.” She pulled out her transceiver. “I’m here. The place has been cleared. It’s secure.” She paused. “I’d like to tell him everything. Is that alright with you?” She closed the connection and looked at me.
“I thought he wasn’t your boss?”
“He’s not. It’s just…he should know that you know.”
I waited.
“His name is Richard Burke III, but he prefers Guy Bensen. Guy and my older brother formed the Resistance 12 years ago.”
“You’ve known about this for 12 years? You must have been a child!”
She shook her head. “No. Of course, I’d heard of the Resistance, but I only learned the specifics a year ago when I almost killed Guy in a routine job.”
“You were going to kill him?”
She nodded.
“And now you’re engaged.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you? Kill him, I mean.”
“Because my employer messed up.”
“Wow.” That explained everything: her hesitancy, her fear and also her shame when I’d pointed out her lies. She’d been on the receiving end for a long time. She understood how it felt not to be trusted. It must have been Richard. No, I corrected myself. It must have been Guy Bensen who had first told her the truth. Why hadn’t her brother told her? I smiled at Keira, a genuine smile filled with warmth and gratitude. “Thank you for trusting me.”
We savored our tea in silence, but my thoughts raged. S and G, Keira’s brother and her fiance, heads of the Resistance. I should tell her. But in my line of work, some things needed to remain confidential.
A slight noise from outside the apartment caught my attention. I sat up straight and listened. Keira reached for a small black bag she’d brought along and drew out a dagger in a sheath. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t a dagger. A door closed with an audible click, just a neighbor returning home for the night.
I looked at Keira. “Well, at least it isn’t a butter knife. What else have you got in there?”
-Keira-
Assassin in the Night
“Thank you for trusting me,” Brody had said. He’d looked so sad all evening, and now I understood why. That look had finally dissipated. I’d had so few chances in my life to help people by just being a friend. But was that really because of chance or by choice? This is why I joined the Resistance, I reminded myself, to help make life better for people, all people, and there are lots of ways to help. But then, after his neighbor returned home for the night, Brody pushed it too far.
“What’s Eberhardt’s story? Where’d he get the scar?”
“That’s not for me to share.”
“Well, what about your roommate?” he asked again.
Why is he interested in her? It’s one thing to ask me personal questions but to ask about my friends…
“What time do you normally go to bed, Brody?”
He refused to take the hint. “If you don’t want her left alone, then shouldn’t you be protecting her instead of taking this job?”
Is he worried about her? But that doesn’t make sense. He just met her!
“What time?” I asked again.
He glanced at a clock on an end table. “About now, I guess.”
“Make it look like you’re sticking to your normal routine. Wash up, turn lights on and off, do whatever you normally do, but then come sleep on the couch. It will be easier for me to protect you in here.”
That night, nothing happened. A few automobiles passed by outside, but otherwise, all was quiet. I had plenty of time to think. The second night passed much the same as the first.
As did the third.
Responding to the feeling that something just isn’t right is prudent, but it doesn’t mean something bad will happen right away, only that it is likely to happen, given enough time.
What did happen over the course of the next few evenings was that our friendship grew, more so than after a year of weekly “board meetings.” And although we talked about many things, Brody did not mention Aimee again.
Each morning, after he left for work, Eberhardt and Aimee picked me up, and we all went to work at the gallery. We’d been helping her prepare for Art Fantastique’s grand opening.
That first afternoon, Guy brought us lunch. It seemed like Aimee had something on her mind, but when I asked her about it, she looked at Eberhardt and said it was nothing that couldn’t wait. I knew better than to push. Whatever it was, she would bring it up in her own time.
The next day, Guy as Richard, took me out to lunch alone. And the next. That was the first day our photo made the front page of the tabloids with the headline, Love at Last? The article related some of the information Guy had asked Raquelle to plant about me, such as that I’d recently moved to Tkaron from Vanover, a large metropolitan center on the west coast.
Every afternoon, I took some time to sleep while Aimee worked at the shop. I woke each evening when she returned home. Her dinner was my breakfast. Then I returned to Brody’s to begin another night of vigilance.
On my fourth night on the job, our conversation centered around the tabloid article and photo.
“You’re from Vanover?” Brody asked.
“No, I was born and raised in Tkaron.”
“How are you going to convince people? What if they do an interview?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, I guess I haven’t really thought about that.”
“But you think of everything! Maybe you should ask Guy to take you on vacation.
Then you could familiarize yourself with Vanover.”
“Maybe…or I could just ask Raquelle for some current information about the city.”
“Raquelle?”
“Uh…” I’d slipped up. I’d begun to trust Brody, but Raquelle hadn’t, and I needed to respect her wishes. “She’s just a friend who’s good at finding out about things.” It was lame, but Brody let it go.
“It helps to know people.”
I smiled. “It certainly does. Favorites?” I asked, and he nodded.
We’d begun a word game in which we took turns asking each other about favorite colors, foods, songs and so on. The game had evolved to include more open ended questions such as, “Describe the neighborhood where you grew up.” It helped to pass the time each night until Brody fell asleep.
I’d learned a lot about him. Until he became the CEO of CalTech, he’d never been extremely wealthy. This had kept Brody relatively safe. His family wasn’t wealthy enough to be a threat, yet they were definitely above Working Class. Because of this, Brody didn’t take his social status for granted. However, he’d also never become accustomed to the cut-throat attitude it took to stay at the top, and that caused him a great deal of anxiety.
That night, after Brody fell asleep, I once again thought about the Divide and wondered how I could help narrow the gap. A slight noise brought me to the present.
Someone was at the door. I sensed it even before the latch slid out of the strike plate.
I slid off of the sofa and crouched in the darkness. My fingers curled tightly around the slive
r hilt of my dagger; my muscles tensed. The door silently swung open, and the shadow of a large muscular man entered the living room. He held a piece of paper next to the keypad and was just about to punch in the code when he noticed the thumbplate.
“Shit!” he said out loud. He crumpled the paper and threw it to the ground.
I leaped toward him. With no hesitation, the intruder drew his gun, turned and fired.
I reeled back. As I grunted and crashed to the ground, Brody called out in alarm. I pulled back and released my dagger just as the lights came on, blinding us all. The man staggered and fell against the wall.
I held up my hand and motioned for Brody to stay back. The alarm began to blare, surely waking every tenant in the building. The intruder was injured but still upright against the wall, his gun trained right between my eyes.
“Keira.” He only said that one word, but it was enough.
He lowered his arm slightly. The gun now pointed at my stomach. I watched as he slowly reached up with his other hand and felt for the hilt of the dagger that stuck out of his chest. His eyes grew wide as I pushed off the ground and stood. That gunshot wound should have taken me out for good, and he knew it.
Taking advantage of his surprise, I sprang forward and knocked the gun out of his hand using a technique Eberhardt had taught me, one I had practiced on countless occasions with the other Raiders. As his hands moved toward my throat, I spun and grabbed the hilt of my dagger. He bellowed as it slid from between his ribs, slick with his own red blood. I lifted it and pressed it against his throat.
He coughed but then smiled, showing yellow teeth. “No fair. You’ve gone ritzy wearing a bulletproof vest. Think you’re better than the rest of us, do you? This time you might want to finish what you started.” He coughed again. His sour breath made me want to vomit.
I knew this man all too well, and I had every reason to want him dead, yet I hesitated.
What would Guy want me to do?
His smile grew. “You can’t do it, love.”
I shook my head and tried to get my thoughts in order. Why did it have to be him? I stared into his eyes and steadied my voice. “I learned all about knives and fire and pain from you.”
He chuckled.
I glanced down at his left hand but kept the dagger steady at his throat. He would always miss those fingers. “Don’t you want to know where I put them?” I asked in a sweetly condescending tone.
“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” he hissed between clenched teeth.
“Ah, missed opportunities.” I’d won, and he knew it.
I heard a commotion from the street below as vehicles squealed to a halt. Anyone caught committing a serious crime against a member of the Elite was taken directly to prison. I didn’t have much time.
“Is there a bounty on him?” I tilted my head toward Brody.
“Is there ever! But they want him alive for questioning. We could split it and both become Elite.”
I drew a thin line of blood at his throat. “This man is off limits. He’s under my protection.”
Footsteps pounded up the stairs.
I reached into my pocket, then held up a small techno device. Before he had a chance to react, I pushed the button. A bright light flared in his direction. After a moment of silence, he began to shout obscenities. In the last few seconds before the guards burst in, I cut off his tongue.
Two guardsmen cuffed him and dragged him down the hall, still bellowing. Another was about to cuff me when Brody intervened. “She’s with me…could you take that with you?” He pointed to the man’s tongue still lying on the floor.
Somehow I managed to keep my breathing even until the guardsmen were gone.
Brody stared at me. “What did you do?”
A fire raged within my belly, and I suddenly felt lightheaded. I stumbled and fell.
Brody caught me and gently lowered me to the floor where I began to shake.
“You were shot. We should get you to a hospital.”
“No.” I tried to wave him away. “I’ll be okay.” But I wasn’t so sure of that. My breathing had become ragged, and the shaking grew worse.
“Like hell you will. You need medical attention.”
I shook my head. “No!” I just couldn’t seem to get myself under control. I wrapped my arms around my legs and rested my forehead on my knees. Somehow I managed to remind him, “Brody, the alarm.”
He reset it and walked away. When he returned, he was holding my transceiver. “Is his the first unlabeled number?”
I nodded. He opened a connection and turned on the vidscreen. When Guy’s face appeared, Brody made sure I was in view. “She needs you. She needs a hospital.”
I heard Guy’s response. “No, no hospital. I’m on my way.”
Brody closed the connection and made a fist in frustration. “What’s wrong with you people? You can afford MedCare. Why won’t you get help?”
The shaking grew worse, but why? I lifted my head. “The bullet…it must be the bullet.
We need to get it out!” I said in a panic. “Get a knife.”
“What? Keira, calm down. You’re going into shock.”
“Remember when I told you there are things worse than death?”
He nodded.
“Get…a knife.”
-Guy-
What Is She?
As soon as Brody opened the front door, I pushed past him.
“Where is she?”
“Come in,” Brody said. He handed me a glass.
“What’s this?”
“The bullet that should have killed her. It was embedded in her abdomen.”
I finally looked at him and noticed the bloodstains on his shirt, on the floor, on the wall.
I returned my attention to the bullet and imagined the willpower it must have taken to get it out.
“Where?” I asked again.
“Resting in the bedroom.” He reset the security alarm. “On the outside she appears almost completely healed. How is that even possible? And what about infection?”
“Infection’s not really an issue. What happened?”
“Someone broke in. She knew him.” Brody hesitated, then asked the obvious. “Can she be killed?”
“Of course she can be killed. She’s a human being!”
“The wanted posters all over town. They’re her, aren’t they? Keira and her brother and sister?”
Were we wrong to trust him?
Brody nodded. “I’ve seen them. They aren’t accurate though. I had no idea until she told me her real name. The people who want her, it’s because she can’t be hurt, isn’t it?”
“You wouldn’t have called me if you believed that.”
“Well, she can heal like nobody I’ve ever seen.”
“And you won’t be mentioning that to anyone.” I took a step toward him.
Brody moved back. “Of course not!”
I found Keira lying in a fetal position on top of the covers. She had exchanged her top for one of Brody’s t-shirts. I sat on the edge of the bed and began to rub her back. That’s when she started to cry. When she had cried herself out, she uncurled and lay face down. I continued to rub her back.
“It was him.” Her voice wavered.
“Who?”
She rolled over. “The one I told you about.” She reached for her shoulder, where there had once been a scar. “He changed me.”
The first man who’d ever hurt her. He’d branded her and told her she belonged to him, and she’d cut off a few of his fingers and told him they belonged to her.
“I didn’t kill him.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“But you were wondering. I know you were wondering.”
She was right, but I would never ask. It was a miracle she hadn’t killed tonight.
Keira continued, “I took his sight and his voice. He can’t hurt me now.”
I lay down next to her, and she curled against me. We stayed like that for a long time. I thought she’d d
rifted off to sleep, but eventually, she stirred and sat up. I climbed out of bed and helped her stand. In less than an hour, the healing process appeared to be complete.
“Does it hurt?” I indicated her midsection.
She shook her head, and I wrapped my arms about her, wanting nothing more than to keep her safe.
“Thank you for coming to check on me. I’m okay now,” Keira said.
“Do you need anything?”
“No. I’m going to finish this.”
I kissed her gently, then backed away. “Be careful.”
-Keira-
Bullets Should Kill
I secured the door behind Guy and reset the alarm. When I turned around, I noticed Brody coming down the hall from the bathroom. He had washed up and changed into a fresh pair of pajamas.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine, just thirsty and hungry.”
“Sit.” Brody indicated the sofa and went to the kitchen. He returned with a glass of water and a box of crackers.
“I think I’m gonna need more than a few crackers.”
Brody gave me a strange look, walked out and returned with a plate of cheese and sliced sausage. He set the plate of food on the end table next to me and said, “Are you sure you should be eating right now?”
“Well, I’ve never been shot before. It really hurt! And it seems to have taken a lot out of me.”
“Yes…a lot of energy…for you to, regenerate. That is what happened, right?”
I avoided his gaze.
“Would you like anything else?”
“No, this is fine. I’m glad you had safe meat on hand. I don’t think anything lighter would have helped much, and the tainted stuff would have been more difficult on the system.” I patted my belly.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I was really hungry.”
“No. I mean, why would I have tainted meat?”
Does he really not know? “You wouldn’t. You’re Elite.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You do know that grocers sell cheaper cuts, right?”
Brody shook his head.
“Well they do, to the Working Class. Sometimes people get sick. Some even die.”