Allie's War Season One

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Allie's War Season One Page 12

by JC Andrijeski


  I landed off-kilter on one foot, picked up my weight, stumbled for the door, limping on the ankle I’d just twisted. I knocked into the door frame as I ran by, smacking my shoulder and making a loud clattering noise that echoed into the small clearing.

  A screech of lake-rusted hinges followed me as the door swung behind my erratic path. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that the door hung crooked on its wooden frame.

  I didn’t look back again.

  At the small opening in the hedge, I scooped up the clothes I’d stolen for Revik, then ran behind the denser vegetation and through the next backyard over. I made it back up to the wooded park above the row of homes a few minutes later, trying not to think about whether Revik would still be there.

  Panting, I ran up to the cluster of roots on to the tree where I thought I’d left him.

  He wasn’t there.

  My heart stopped again, until I realized I’d gone to the wrong tree.

  I found him after I’d already started to panic, skidding to a stop when I saw his long legs splayed. When I saw his eyes closed, I panicked, sure he was dead...but they fluttered open as soon as I crouched beside him.

  “I didn’t sleep...” he said. “I didn’t.”

  Relieved beyond words, I kissed him on the mouth.

  His eyes registered a dim surprise.

  “Sorry I took so long,” I said, embarrassed, then grinned. “But hey, look!” I showed him the headset. Fitting it over my ear, I switched it on, even as it occurred to me to hope it didn’t have a DNA key. I knew some of the newer ones did.

  Luckily, it wasn’t that new.

  I scrolled through the woman’s cached numbers until I found one labeled “taxi.”

  “Yeah,” I said when the dispatcher picked up. I waited for her to trace our location. “Yeah, now.” I glanced at Revik, watched him fumble with the sweatshirt I’d brought him. “We’ll be in the parking lot.” I hung up, crouching in front of him again. “You up for this? We can’t go door to door...we’ll have to have them drop us near a bus stop, or downtown. It’s in Chinatown, right?”

  He nodded, unbuttoning his shirt.

  I continued to stand there as he began struggling out of it. Looking down at his exposed neck and shoulder, I noticed a question-mark scar curling up from his back to his throat, such a pale white color it had to be really old. It wasn’t small though, or particularly light. In fact, it was nearly the width of my index finger.

  I hesitated, wondered if I should offer to help, given his condition, then thought better of it and walked off a few paces instead, sitting on the grass with my back to him.

  Twisting off the clasp ties, I reached into the plastic bag filled with bread, selected a big piece with dark crust and began munching. It was soft with a crunchy, chewy crust, and at that moment I decided it was the best damned bread I’d ever eaten.

  I played lookout while I ate, combing fingers through my hair to get as much gunk out as I could, pausing occasionally to try to clean up my face on the long-sleeved tee.

  “Stockholm syndrome,” I muttered, then laughed, stuffing another piece of bread into my mouth and chewing.

  I would think about that later.

  THE SUN DIPPED towards late-afternoon before we finally stood in front of a red-painted basement door.

  I looked up the cement stairs to the street, where a woman leaned against a telephone pole. Nylons torn, makeup running down her cheeks under a slightly askew wig, she swayed drunkenly on high heels, staring at Revik with half-hearted interest. She saw me looking at her and gestured in a dismissive wave.

  “Enjoy yourself, girlfriend.” She burst into a laugh. “That one’s too drunk to fuck, so you be nice...I find him in the gutter tomorrow, I’ll remember your face, honey...”

  My eyes found Revik’s. He continued leaning against me, his hand on the wall. He was having trouble breathing.

  I said to him, “You sure this is the place?”

  He didn’t look at the woman, who called out again, trying to get his attention. “Yes.”

  “Hey, lover! Be careful! That one looks like a predator...” She burst into drunken laughter. “Wanna come home with me? I’ll take good care of you. Hey! Tall and dark...”

  “This part of town isn’t exactly where I’d put a ‘safe’ house,” I muttered. “You’re sure we’re at the right—”

  “Seers have photographic memories, Allie,” he said. “Trust me. It is here.”

  Seeing the exhaustion behind the request in his eyes, I gripped him tighter, but still hesitated, staring at the chipped, red-painted door. I was about to walk into a house full of seers. Seers who would probably think I’d done this to him.

  And they wouldn’t be that far off.

  “Knock, Allie.”

  I raised my hand.

  The door opened before I could touch the wood.

  A woman stood there with stunning dark-red hair that hung in ringlets down either side of her heart-shaped face to bare, pearl-white shoulders. My eyes took in that flawless face, the dark blue eyes that shone almost violet and perfectly drawn lips. Everything about her, from her clothes to her figure to her hair reminded me of an old sex siren from the forties or fifties. The clothes she wore fit so well they could have been made for her.

  Or painted on her, perhaps.

  The woman smiled, and the smile drew me like a caress.

  “Can I help you, friend?”

  I glanced at Revik. No wonder he wanted to come here.

  He remained outside the circle of light, but I felt his fingers relax slightly when the woman appeared. Turning away from the relief I could see on his face, I looked past her, glimpsing a wider space with more people, but her eyes must have followed mine back to him.

  “Revi’!” The violet eyes widened, all trace of coyness gone. “Gods, Revi’! What happened to you?”

  Before I could say a word, she stepped forward, not moving me aside so much as sliding into the gap between me and Revik and circling his waist with her arm. She took him for me before it occurred to me to protest, and led him through the doorway. I found myself just standing there, strangely light without him to prop up, but not really relieved, either.

  Then another pair of hands dragged me in after the two of them, swinging shut the door.

  More people rose from chairs, their faces showing different amounts of surprise. None spoke...aloud anyway. Looking around at all of them without really seeing them, I glimpsed satin dresses and long jackets, faces heavy with make-up with a variety of skin tones and hair textures. The first woman I’d seen appeared to be in charge. She gestured with her free hand to the others, speaking an odd mix of accented English and a language I didn’t know.

  “Mira, lock the door! Il’letre ar enge. Ivy, set up the room, yes, ugnete...make sure Sharin knows, and tell her to let the last one out the back...”

  The woman with the long red hair stood at a decent height, maybe five-nine, but still looked small where she supported Revik with her shoulder. I saw her caress his back with a ring-adorned hand and felt more than that pass between them.

  “That was you on the news!” she said, looking up at him. “I should have known...they intimated terrorism. But we didn't expect you so soon.” As if remembering, she looked over her shoulder at me. Her eyes glowed briefly, taking me in.

  “Is this her?”

  Revik glanced at me, too. Then he turned away, speaking only to her, using that other language, interspersing his words with a series of clicks.

  “Arente ar mulens, sarten,” he said softly. He glanced at me again. “Il en, yet. Igre ar ulen. Bridge,” he added.

  The woman stared at me. “Ar li ente u?”

  “Ur et estarn. Alyson...ut te Allie.”

  The woman looked at me more intently. Her irises blurred just enough that I suspected she was reading my mind. I saw Revik nod to her perceptibly a few seconds later. He gestured fluidly with one hand, ending on a downward slash.

  I stood there, arms folded,
fighting back emotion that felt more and more like anger. My eyes found his fingers entangled in the woman’s dark red hair, caressing the bare skin of her neck and shoulder.

  A pulse of warmth reached me.

  I jumped, my face hotter when I realized who had sent it. Then it hit me. He had access to his abilities again.

  He met my gaze. Ullysa has a construct on this place. It will keep us hidden from the Barrier proper. We are safe here...for now.

  Ullysa made a soft clicking sound that held a trace of amazement, drawing my eyes.

  “She is young, Revi',” she said. “I pictured an old man from the Elders’ impressions. Is she trained at all?”

  Revik made another of those downward slashing motions.

  No, he translated for me.

  Ullysa looked up at Revik’s face. “And how did they find you? We were told you got away from San Francisco cleanly.”

  “It was my mistake—” Revik began.

  “No,” I said. “It wasn’t.”

  Ullysa looked at me in surprise.

  Her expression suddenly grew much harder for me to read. She bowed politely as I thought it, indicating around the room with her free hand. I couldn’t help but notice her other hand was now under the sweatshirt Revik wore, caressing his bare back.

  Realizing I was staring, I looked away, folding my arms tighter.

  “Wait here, please,” she said politely. “...Esteemed Bridge.”

  I held up my hands, not hiding my annoyance. “Sure thing.”

  She left the room with Revik, whose eyes I avoided, only to meet other stares aimed at me from different parts of the room. Shrugging deliberately, I plopped down on one of the plush chairs. A number of seers had risen to stare at me. Most of those stares felt mainly curious, but I felt hostility there, as well. Maybe I was too tired to be afraid, or too angry, or too stupid, but I avoided looking at any of them, even to smooth over the silence.

  Eventually, though, I met one woman’s gaze in particular. Her eyes were predatory, but beneath that, I felt a lot of anger.

  Great. This woman actually felt dangerous.

  “Should we call his owner?” a girl asked from another part of the room. She sounded worried...and sane, at least. “He’ll be in trouble, won’t he?”

  “What is the point?” The predatory woman’s eyes remained on me. Her accent was thick, and sounded Slavic. Russian, maybe. “His owners will have declared him rogue by now...cut a deal with SCARB to avoid attention.”

  “But I thought his job was classified. Even among the humans, don’t they—”

  “Well, they may not tell the human news crews what he did for them,” the Russian said, rolling her eyes at the other’s words. “But that does not mean they will not shoot him down like a dog now.” Her eyes returned to mine. “What do you think, little girl? You were raised human.”

  Her full lips curled, but it wasn’t really a smile.

  “Would you kill him?” she taunted. “...Or play with him awhile first?”

  A few of the other seers snickered.

  I tried looking from face to face openly, the way Cass would have done.

  When the other seers only avoided my eyes, I focused back on the Russian. The woman had her hair piled in braids around an angular but striking face with caramel-colored skin. Her brown eyes shone with so much light that I found myself fighting a kind of fear reaction just trying to hold her gaze.

  Her full lips curved higher, so I knew she was reading my mind, too.

  She stood beside a short Asian with a wide face and dark hair hanging down the center of her back. So not all seers were tall—good to know. Both of them wore silk robes that covered only the top of their thighs.

  “Does it bother you, that we are whores?” the Russian asked me, folding her arms. “Would it bother you to know he sells it, too? But then, we seers are all ‘big sex,’ yes?” Anger colored her voice again, but once she saw my face, her predatory smile returned.

  “Ah, you do not like what I say. But Revi’ is a whore...of many kinds. Offer him money. See what he says.” She grinned around at the others. “We seers always need money!”

  More laughter rose. A few other seers held my stare that time, too, and smirked at me knowingly. Their expressions and bodies seemed to shift around me, a sea of hair and skin and glowing eyes, and they looked like animals to me, I couldn’t help it. They gestured to one another and their voices echoed in my head, seeming to come from all sides.

  Has she tasted him yet?

  No. I do not see him in her.

  No wonder she is so angry...

  Laughter rings, in my mind and outside. My head pounds, but my body feels far away, like a shank of meat on a hook. I close my eyes, trying to block them out.

  Do you think it was she who beat him half dead?

  Knowing Revi', he liked it...

  A few more of them laughed.

  He was hungry...even under all that. Do you think she refused him?

  Not this one. She is hungry too.

  Maybe he is forbidden? By the elders, I mean. Maybe he is not allowed, with his penance.

  Did he ask you for it, little girl?

  This last is directed at me, and comes from the Russian with that angular face and light-filled eyes and long, brown legs. The rest of the prostitutes fall silent, waiting for my answer.

  I look around at them, knowing there is no good answer, no good not-answer.

  Finally, I just fold my arms, sinking deeper in the plush chair.

  They all laugh again. The room is half in darkness now. Their faces flicker, in and out, negative to positive. The Russian smiles nearest to me.

  You don't know what you're missing, little sister...

  I struggle to work my tongue. I am too angry, tired and in pain to care anymore if they hurt me. “Look,” I say. “We're not related, Miss...?”

  Kat. I am Kat, and I have tasted him. Would you like to know how often? In what ways?

  Images swirl briefly, a taste of the flavor of him, and my body reacts involuntarily, a thick surge of that nausea bringing heat to my face.

  Kat laughs, and the images recede.

  Yes...she is hungry for brother Revik. Kat looks around at the room. But is it him in particular, I wonder? She is new to our kind, after all. Maybe she would like one of her other brothers just as much? Who will break her in for the rest of us?

  My fists curl. I don’t turn my head towards any of the males I now feel looking at me with interest. The tiredness is debilitating; if they’re not just having fun with me, there’s no way for me to know. I see a wine bottle, half full on the table.

  I let my hand wander closer—

  Stop! A voice breaks through the others. You are going too far...she thinks you mean it! The short, Asian female steps closer, and I realize it is her voice. She looks at me with curiosity, but also sympathy. She can’t help what she’s been taught. She’s scared, Kat. You’re being mean.

  Mika is right, says a warm voice, chiding the Russian. And the girl does like him. You should not tell her of his trade. It is not your place.

  Kat snorts. I am educating her. What does she think he's doing with Ullysa right now?

  Don’t be silly, says another. He’s wounded.

  He is never that wounded!

  Another roll of laughter twangs strings of light, this one warmer, more genuine. I blink, try to focus my eyes.

  The mature-sounding voice returns. My head turns; I can almost distinguish them now. An African-looking woman stands in the back, smiling at me with dark eyes.

  Retract your claws, Kat. She’s only a cub.

  She wants to know...look at her!

  She doesn’t want to know. You are angering her, Kat...and you are jealous.

  Jealous? Of what? Why would he play with a half worm, when there is no money in it?

  He wants anything with a pulse, a male voice laughs. And her soul may look like an old man, but she is beautiful...her light pulls. Of course he wants her...I
want her. The paradox alone is intriguing, even without those eyes...

  I am exhausted. I’m fighting to stay awake when another presence enters the room. The others fall silent, and it is a schoolyard silence, children caught tormenting a wounded animal.

  Even Kat steps back, looking defensive.

  “What is going on in here?” Ullysa says.

  I am standing. When had I gotten to my feet?

  Just having a little fun, big sis, Kat sends.

  I look at Kat, and the woman’s eyes pulse, more schoolyard politics, this time a warning from the head bully to remain silent. But I don’t even care anymore. I feel sick, more tired than I can remember feeling. I want to go home, make sure my mother’s all right, and Jon...and Cass. To hell with these people.

  Now that Revik is okay maybe they’ll just let me leave.

  “You cannot leave, sister.” Ullysa’s eyes reflect alarm, maybe at my thoughts, or maybe at something she sees in my face. “There is no home to which you could return. I am sorry. Did you not watch the feeds?”

  I shake my head, but I can’t let myself think about her words. Putting out a hand like a zombie, I lean my weight on a chair.

  Fuck it. If they wanted to screw with my head, or rape me or whatever, there wasn’t a hell of a lot I could do about it. Maybe I wouldn’t even remember.

  When I glanced up, Ullysa was staring at me again. Then her eyes turned to glass, reminding me of Revik’s before they swiveled to face the rest of the room.

  Her anger flared, a red streak in the dark.

  She was begging for it! Kat said, before Ullysa could speak. Her sad, human eyes on our brother's ass...

  Ullysa fury pulsed higher. “Do you know who this is? Do you have any idea what you are doing right now?”

  Stepping towards me, she ignored my flinch and took my arm.

  I stood there, feeling like some kind of poster child, and not liking that much, either. She spoke quietly though, warmly, and at each word, I felt a little less strung out.

  “I am very sorry to have left you alone, Esteemed sister,” she said. She glared around at the seers filling the rest of the room. “...I would never have done so, if I knew my own people would shame me in such a way.”

  Her eyes returned to mine, and softened.

 

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