by L. S. O'Dea
“No, not really.” He picked up his glass, finishing the drink. “So, tonight at eight. East side, Servants’ entrance.”
“Yes. Thank you, Hugh. Your mother would be proud,” said Barney.
His chest tightened. Barney was right. She would be. “Do you need a ride?”
“No. It’s not safe for us to be seen together,” said Barney as he left the room.
Buddy shut the door. “I don’t trust him.”
“I’m not sure that I do either, but I think he’s genuinely concerned for Tim.”
“We don’t even know for sure that Tim is being held there,” said Buddy.
“I need to get inside the lab, whether Tim is in there or not.”
“Why?” asked Buddy.
“Barney is getting me access to the fifth level. I need to see what the professor is hiding.”
“This could be a trap,” said Buddy.
He nodded, running his hand through his hair. “Yes. That is a possibility. That’s why you are to wait near the sewer grate but not at it. Canvas the area. See if anything looks suspicious. Then give me until nine thirty, if I’m not back by then leave.”
“No. I won’t leave you there,” argued Buddy.
“You have to. If this is a trap, you and Reese are my only chance. First, contact Reese and then go to the police. Tell them there was a break-in at Conguise’s lab.”
“I thought I was going with Buddy,” said Reese, sitting up.
“No. I’m going to rent the room next door for you. Barney only knows we have this room. He may suspect that one of you will be hiding but he won’t suspect that you’ll be hiding next door. If Buddy isn’t back here by ten thirty, go to the police, but first set into play the delivery of the blood and test results to all the people we had discussed before.”
Buddy and Reese nodded.
He sat down at the table and twirled the whiskey bottle making the liquor swish up the sides.
“You should eat,” said Buddy.
He nodded but didn’t move to pick up a sandwich.
“What’s wrong?” asked Buddy. “You don’t need to do this. We can figure—”
“It’s not that,” he said softly. “Do you ever regret not having offspring?” He forced himself to look at Buddy and Reese. “The truth.”
“That’s what bothering you?” Buddy sat in the chair across from him.
“It wasn’t my place to insist.” He stood and walked over to the window. “The arrogance—”
“No,” said Buddy. “I never regretted it. I never had much interest in young.”
He continued to stare out the window. He couldn’t face her. “Reese, what about you?”
She placed her hand on his shoulder and he jumped. He hadn’t heard her cross the room. He turned around. Her brown eyes glistened with unshed tears and his heart broke, pierced by the pain of regret and lost chances on her face.
“Sometimes,” she said. “But, don’t feel bad.” She squeezed his arm. “It’s just a passing thought every now and then. If I really consider it, I would not choose to have young. Not in this world. Life is too uncertain for my kind.”
“I would never have made you give them up. You have to know that.”
“I do, but if I had offspring and you kept them, what about the others like me who have nowhere to go? You can’t take us all in, Hugh. Even you have your limits.” She walked over to the desk, put a sandwich on a plate and carried it back to him.
“I’m content with my life.” She handed him the plate. “You need to eat. You only have a couple of hours before you leave.”
CHAPTER 33
JACKSON RETURNED TO the barn a few hours before dinner. He’d gone to tell Hugh that the surgery was tonight but the Almighty had not been home. He’d slid a message under the door. Hopefully, Hugh would see it and be there when he delivered Trinity later that evening.
“Casper, go and get dinner. I’ll take over,” he said as he entered the back part of the barn. He was going to utilize this time alone with the Producer to figure out why two powerful Almightys wanted her.
Casper nodded and left.
He moved the chair over to the cage and sat. Trinity was lying on the pile of blankets. She turned to face him, studying him with her large, golden eyes. She seemed to see into his soul and he sifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure that it was worth viewing.
“So, let’s continue our conversation,” he said.
“Which conversation was that?”
“The one about why everyone wants you.”
Her eyes widened for a moment and then she regained her composure. “I told you I don’t know.”
“You’re hiding something.”
“Am not,” she said, sounding her age for the first time. “All I know is that I was hunted for leaving camp.”
This approach was getting him nowhere. “Let’s move on from Benedictine. I understand why he wants you. Another escape would finish his career.”
“Someone else escaped from the encampment?” She sat up.
“A long time ago, but—”
“Did they catch the other Producer?”
This was not the direction that he wanted the conversation to go. “Yes, they were all caught, but—”
“What happened to them?” She scooted closer to him, her eyes bright with hope.
She shouldn’t be this naïve. He didn’t want to be the one to tell her these things.
Her shoulders sagged. “Never mind. I know.”
She knew the fate of her kind. It was written all over her face. “Who told you?” There was a pang of loss in his chest for her innocence, but the lower classes had to grow up fast to survive.
“Does it matter?” She continued to meet his gaze directly.
“No. Not really.” She was amazing. She was aware of what was going to happen to her and yet, she didn’t cower or beg.
“Why have I never heard about the other escape? How did they keep that a secret from us?”
“As I said, it happened a long time ago.” He could tell by her expression that he was going to have to explain further. “Benedictine’s great-grandfather ran the encampment then.”
She continued to stare at him.
“Their family almost lost the camps. They did lose any possibility of being more than the manager of encampments.” At her look of disbelief he explained. “The Almightys have long memories and short patience for mistakes. Benedictine’s family was blamed for the escapes and it will take one Remore doing something extraordinary for the Supreme Amighty and his council to forget.”
She remained stoic. He couldn’t blame her. Although, loss of any possibility of a promotion meant a lot to Benedictine, it didn’t even nudge the scale when it was compared to loss of life.
“Benedictine’s family was almost left as beggars. His great-grandfather had to do something to repair his name. What he did went beyond anything anyone would have ever considered.” This was not easy to tell a Producer. He swallowed and blurted it out. “He killed everyone in the camp. Every Producer over the age of three was slaughtered. That way there could be no memory of the occurrence.”
Her mouth dropped open. The single-mindedness of the action had shocked him too, but it had worked. The next generation of Producers was raised with the belief that the fences were there for their safety and that the Almightys were their protectors. It was brilliant. The entire nation had adopted the Remore policy.
“Th..that didn’t happen this time, did it?” she asked.
“No. No one has discovered your escape and the other Producers think that you’re sick in the head. They’re safe.”
“Thank Araldo. I don’t think I could handle being responsible for any more deaths.”
She must mean the murders in the camp. After their investigation it was clear that Troy was the killer, but she must carry some of the blame. This was not the time to tell her about her father. She was lucky her mother was still alive. If it hadn’t been for Hugh’s timely interruption, Trini
ty would be an orphan. It was time to change the subject. “I’ve answered your questions, so now you tell me what you’re hiding?”
She remained silent.
“I’m going to take you to Hugh. I need to know why everyone wants you.”
“Why?” She stood and walked to the front of the cage, grabbing the bars. “More importantly, how will telling you help me?”
The little shit. He’d been more than kind by answering her questions. He stood and grasped the bars of the cage right above her hands, looming over her. “Right now, I don’t know what Hugh plans to do with you. He may want to kill you.”
“Perhaps,” she said, her chin jutting out slightly.
“That doesn’t worry you?” She was composed, but he would break her. He twitched his lips, showing his large canines.
“Of course it does,” she snapped. “But what are my choices? Benedictine, who I know is cruel.” She touched his injured face.
He leaned away from her. He didn’t want her kindness. She was his means of escape. That was all.
“Or Professor Conguise, who I have never heard of before today. And, let’s not forget Hugh, who—”
Casper burst into the room. “Jackson, we have to leave. Martha called and there was a break in at Kim’s.”
He turned toward the other Guard, pretending concern. “Is Kim all right?”
“Yes. She’s fine. Scared, but fine.” Casper clasped him on the shoulder. “I’ll stay here; you go.”
“No. I’m responsible for the Producer. You go. Take the others.”
“But—”
“No. This Producer is the payment for Jethro’s surgery. If anything happens to her, Benedictine will kill us all.”
“Do you think the break-in at Kim’s is a trap?” whispered Casper.
He had to dispel that notion or the old Guard would never leave him alone. “I doubt it.” He led Casper to the exit. “Take all the other Guards and make sure that Kim is safe. I’ll lock the door from the inside.”
“Are you sure you don’t want some of us to stay?” asked Casper.
“No. Jethro’s surgery may be Benedictine’s main concern, but Kim’s safety is mine.” He squeezed the old Guard’s shoulder.
Casper nodded and left.
He locked the door and walked back to the cage. “So, it begins.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Let me in. It’s Jethro.”
“We will have this conversation after Jethro leaves. I need to know everything about you before I turn you over to Hugh.” He headed toward the door.
“Why? Are you angling for a better price for me from someone else?”
He turned and went back to the cage. “You may not believe this, but I don’t want to see you hurt.” He was a bit surprised that he meant it.
“I don’t believe it. I know you have eaten Producers before. Why not me?”
“Jackson, let me in.” Jethro pounded on the door.
“In a minute,” he yelled. “You are important to Jethro.”
“And Jethro is important to Kim and Kim is important to you,” she said.
“That was not what I was going to say.”
She gave him a look of disbelief.
Obviously, he wasn’t hiding his feelings for Kim as well as he thought. He stomped over to the door and opened it. It was a good thing that he was leaving.
“What were you doing?” Jethro lowered his hand.
He glared at the boy. He was tired of dealing with teenagers. “Arguing.” He jerked his head in Trinity’s direction. “She is not being cooperative.”
“Has he been bothering you?” Jethro wheeled over to her.
You have got to be kidding me. Young love. He snorted and shook his head.
She smiled at Jethro. “He was trying to find out about me. He wants to make sure that I’ll be safe with Hugh.”
“Why wouldn’t she be safe with Hugh?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about her, least of all why Hugh and Professor Conguise want her. Haven’t you wondered why both of these powerful Almightys want this particular Producer? They could have any Producer from any camp. Why do they want this one?”
Jethro looked at her and then back at him, confused.
The kid was finally getting the picture. There was something not right about all of this. “How do Conguise and Hugh even know that she escaped? We’re missing something.”
“Maybe, she shouldn’t go to Hugh,” said Jethro.
“She has no choice,” he said.
“She could stay here. We could hide her until after my surgery and then—”
“It won’t work. Conguise would find her eventually.”
“Then how can Hugh keep her from the professor?” asked Jethro.
“Hugh is as powerful as Conguise. That’s why we have to take her there. I just want to know why they want her before we do.”
“Why does it matter, if the outcome is the same?” she asked.
“If we know what they know, we may have other options that we’re not aware of at this time.”
“I don’t think so.” She sat on the blankets.
“Why not?” Finally, she was going to tell what she knew.
“Before you captured me, I was traveling with Gaar and Mirra.”
“The Handler and Tracker,” he said. “I suspected as much.”
“What are you talking about? There are no Handlers and Tracker,” said Jethro.
“Gaar thought that I should go to Hugh,” she said, ignoring Jethro. “I trust Gaar. I was on my way there when you caught us.”
He hadn’t expected that. It was a good thing that they’d caught her, or he’d be trapped here with Benedictine. “Did Gaar know why they want you?”
There was a quiet tap on the door. Not now. He was so close to figuring out the big secret.
“Jackson, let me in. It’s Viola. Hurry.”
What was she doing here? She was supposed to be with Kim. He walked to the door and unlocked it.
Viola slipped inside. “Lock it. Quick. Benedictine is on his way out here.” She headed toward the cage. “And worse, my father has sent his own Guards to protect the Producer.”
“Crap.” He glanced out the door. “Are your father’s Guards here, now?”
“Yes,” said Viola. “I saw them when Kim and I returned to the house.”
“Kim is here? What about my Guards.” This was all falling apart. He couldn’t sneak Trinity out if Conguise’s Guards were here.
“No. Martha insisted that we come here and stay after the break-in. Your Guards are still at Kim’s house,” said Viola.
“You came back alone.” He would personally kill his Guards if they allowed the two females to travel alone at night.
“Well…no. Casper escorted us back.”
Good. With Casper here they still had a chance. “I think it’s time—”
“That’s why I’m here.” Viola waved a folded cloak at him. It matched the one that she wore.
“We’re going to need the assistance of Casper. Go and tell him that I need to speak with him.”
She started to leave and stopped. “He’s on his way.”
“Perfect.” He waited until Casper entered the barn and then he stepped out of the back room, closing the door behind him.
“Jackson. Kim is—”
“Casper, we need to talk, but not right now. Benedictine is on his way out here. Go and guard the perimeter.”
“Don’t you want to know about Kim?”
“Later.” He stepped back into the room where Trinity was being held. “That will take care of your father’s Guards. Now, why is Benedictine coming out here?” He bolted the door.
“How does that take care of Conguise’s Guards?” asked Jethro.
“I’ll explain if I have time. Now, Benedictine?”
“Someone refused to eat dinner.” Viola shot Jethro a disgusted look.
“Jethro?” He groaned. What was wrong with the kid?
> “I didn’t want them to get suspicious. I’m mad at them and refusing surgery, remember?”
That did make sense. “Fine, but you shouldn’t have come out here.”
“I wanted to see—”
“Stop arguing. What’s done is done.” Viola shoved the other cloak through the bars. “Put it on. We don’t have time to change clothes.”
“You have to,” said Jackson, as he unlocked the cage. “You need as much Producer scent on you as possible.” He faced the door. “Jethro turn around.”
Jethro blushed as he turned his back toward the females.
Jackson peered out the window into the other part of the barn. “Trinity, after you change into Viola’s clothes leave the cage and close the door.”
“Maybe, we should wait until after Benedictine leaves,” suggested Trinity. “He has seen me.”
“No, we need to do it now,” said Viola. “The surgery will be soon. Just get him out of here as quickly as possible.”
Benedictine walked into the outer part of the barn, carrying a tray of food.
“Hurry up,” said Jackson. “He’s in the barn.”
The cage door clanked shut. Jackson peered over his shoulder. Viola was lying on the blankets facing the wall. The hood of the cloak covered her hair and face. Trinity was standing by Jethro.
“Open up.” Benedictine knocked on the door.
Jackson held his finger to his lips. “Who’s there?” He shoved Trinity into a cabinet in the corner.
“Of all the…unlock the door,” ordered Benedictine.
He signaled for Jethro to face the cage and then opened the door.
“Leave us.” Benedictine walked into the room and over to Jethro.
If Benedictine noticed that it was Viola, they were in serious trouble. Jackson left the room but stopped right outside, leaving the door ajar so that he could see inside. He and Trinity would make a run for it if they had to. Viola and Jethro would be fine. It was his Guards he worried about.
“Son,” said Benedictine. “I know you’re upset, but you have to eat.”
Jethro glared at his father.
Jackson clenched his jaw. If he made it out of this with any teeth intact he’d be surprised. Jethro had a very thin line to walk. He had to convince his father that he was still angry and yet succumb to his father’s wishes. That was not easy for an adult to do, let alone a hot-tempered eighteen-year-old Almighty.