The Goliath Code (The Alpha Omega Trilogy)

by Suzanne Leonhard

  “Why not?” David countered. “Europa food drops have fed us for half a year. What makes you think Praetor Stanislov doesn’t intend to do exactly as he said and give all your friends medals?”

  Tim and Ben broke into laughter, which only deepened David’s scowl.

  “You haven’t met him,” I replied. “He doesn’t feel right.”

  “Oh. Well,” David retorted, “everybody stop what you’re doing. Sera’s having a feeling.”

  I glared at him. “He shot Frank Skaggs without batting an eye.”

  David slammed his hands down onto the table, knocking over his chess pieces and startling us all. “Good!” he boomed. “Skaggs was a vicious, embittered megalomaniac who was responsible for the deaths of almost a hundred people! In seconds, the praetor kills a man you’ve been trying to kill for months, and you criticize him for it?”

  “Skaggs said we shouldn’t trust him,” I gritted out.

  David gave me a patient stare. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Sera.” He climbed down from his chair, scooped up his game, and walked over to a nearby table to sit by himself.

  “He’s got a point.”

  We all stared at Jude.

  “My brother the diplomat,” Ben remarked.

  Jude shrugged. “The praetor hasn’t given us any reason to doubt him.”

  “David wasn’t there,” I snapped. “None of you were. Grandpa’s convinced that Europa’s reasons for being here have nothing to do with helping us.”

  “Then what do they want?” Jude asked. “Milly’s MRE casserole recipe?” He pulled a face and shuddered.

  Milly scowled and gave him a playful punch.

  I glared at them both. Their infatuation with each other bordered on annoying.

  “Whatever it is—” Ben tossed his dart at the board. “—they aren’t gettin’ it.”

  The bell over the front door rang as three people entered the café wearing clear plastic capes and carrying flashlights. One of them was Peter Williams.

  “Great,” Ben muttered. “The freak parade has arrived.”

  Every eye in the place watched them shuffle across the room to a table in the corner. We all knew what was coming. They’d start shining their flashlights in everybody’s faces and shoving handwritten flyers at us. Their writing claimed the white light abductions were signs of an imminent alien invasion. They were a reminder of my mother and the last thing I needed today.

  Milly scowled. “It isn’t polite to stare.”

  “If you don’t want people starin’,” Tim answered, “then you shouldn’t leave the house wearin’ your shower curtain.”

  Ben dropped down into David’s vacated chair across from me. “I liked it better when the White Lighters were afraid to show their faces in public.”

  “Like the Spathi?” Jude replied.

  “Bunch of filthy cowards,” Ben growled.

  “I’d love to get my hands on a Spathi,” Tim added.

  The Spathi—Greek for ‘Spears Of God’ were anonymous. After Frank Skaggs had killed their apostle and burned down their commune, the remnants of the CBC changed. They hid in trees, camouflaged by their brown canvas ponchos, and sniped people in the name of their Lord. We’d lost five soldiers to them in just the past month.

  The bell over the door clanged again. Milly looked up. Her eyes grew wide and fixed behind me. She leaned across the table and grabbed my arm. “Sera!” she hissed. “Look!”

  I turned in my chair. A familiar figure with dark hair and dark eyes stood at the door. Micah. Part of me had hoped to never see him again.

  “I know,” I said.

  She gaped at me. “You…you know?”

  Ben scowled. “Isn’t that Micah Abrams?”

  Tim grunted. “In the flesh.”

  “I thought he was dead.”

  Tim clapped Ben on the shoulder. “Looks like yer outta luck, buddy.”

  I swung to my feet, slung my automatic rifle over my shoulder, and met Micah at the door. “You need to leave,” I hissed.

  Micah stared back at me with intense, mesmerizing eyes. I wanted to blacken them both. “We need to talk.”

  About what? I thought. How many nights I cried myself to sleep after you disappeared? The moments my heart stopped, thinking I saw you in a crowd? Or maybe the day I learned you were captured and gave up hope? “I have nothing to say to you.”

  I turned to walk away and saw my brother staring at us from across the room with a murderous expression on his face.

  Micah grabbed hold of my hand.

  “Let go of me!”

  He pulled me out the door and into the red sunlight.

  “What are you doing here?” I wrenched my hand from his grasp. “You made your choice—you’re not one of us anymore!”

  He looked frustrated. “You’re judging things you can’t possibly understand, Seraphina.”

  “You mean like lies? Cruelty? Betrayal? I hope spending some quality time with the people who starved and murdered us brought you a great deal of satisfaction.” Then a thought occurred to me. “Did you break out of jail?”

  He gave me an impatient scowl. “I told them I wasn’t a Skagg and they let me go.”

  “Then the praetor’s dumber than I thought.”

  “I am not a Skagg,” he insisted.

  “You’re worse than a Skagg! You’re a traitor!” I’d seen too much death to tolerate defectors. They were the worst of the worst, viler than the enemy themselves.

  “We don’t have time for this. There’s a bomb in the café.”

  My breath caught. “A what?!”

  “You need to leave.”

  “If there’s a bomb, then why are you here?”

  “To save you.”

  My treacherous heart skipped at his confession. I covered it by narrowing my eyes. “Who told you about a bomb?”

  “Seraphina,” he warned, “I will carry you away if I have to.”

  I hooked my thumb through the shoulder strap of my weapon. “That would be a good way to get yourself shot.”

  He checked his watch. “Five minutes.”

  I stared at him, trying to read the truth in his expression. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of acting on his warning, but my pride wasn’t worth people’s lives.

  I charged back into the café. “Everybody out! Now!”

  Ben jumped from his chair. “What’s happening?”

  “There’s a bomb threat.”

  “A bomb threat?” Tim repeated.

  Chairs toppled. People scrambled to their feet. A wave of clear plastic capes fluttered to the back exit.

  “By who?” Milly asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  David slipped down from his chair. “Considering it’s been a while since I’ve heard the ring of a telephone, I’m curious…exactly how was this threat made?”

  I looked back at Micah who’d followed me inside. “He told me.”

  David laughed, then climbed back into his chair. “I believe I’ll wait this one out.”

  “Micah’s word is good enough for me.” Jude held out his hand to Milly. “Exit stage left?”

  Tim nodded. “I’m with you two.”

  Ben looked at me. “You coming?”

  “Once the building is cleared.”

  He hesitated, glancing between me and Micah, then followed the others out the back exit.

  My brother remained at his table.

  “Don’t be stupid, David,” I said.

  “I think you’ll find out soon enough that you are the stupid one.” He sipped his bark tea, glaring at Micah over the rim of his mug.

  “Seraphina,” Micah warned.

  “I’m not leaving without my brother.”

  Micah checked his watch. “Fine.” He marched toward David.

  David was instantly suspicious. “What are you doing?”

  “Saving your sister’s life.” He picked David up and threw him over his shoulder like a squirming sack of snakes.

  “What t
he hell do you think you’re doing?” David bellowed. He kicked Micah hard in the chest; Micah had to grab hold of his flailing feet to keep him under control.

  Micah turned to me with his enraged bundle. “Out! Now!”

  I moved quickly toward the exit of the café, my brother’s curses ringing in my ears. We spilled out into the snowy courtyard, clambered through the wreckage of Harper’s Lumber, ran across what used to be the Laswell family’s backyard, and ended up on Washington Avenue with the others. David screamed bloody murder the whole time.

  “Oh my stars,” Milly commented when she saw David thrashing over Micah’s shoulder.

  Tim grunted. “This ain’t gonna end well.”

  Micah set David on his feet and, wisely, took a few steps back. David’s face was red, his mouth tight, and his eyes were bulging from his head. He looked like a bomb about to go off.

  And then one did.

  The explosion ripped through the air and popped my ears. We ducked behind the wall of the lumber building as a shower of debris rained down over our heads.

  I glanced over at Micah. He didn’t look happy about being right.

  When the dust settled, we all hurried onto Second Street and stared down the block. The café was completely demolished. Again.

  “Good god-damn,” Tim breathed.

  David picked up a splintered board and advanced on Micah. “How did you know? How?”

  “Whoa, now, Double D.” Tim stepped in front of him and took away the board. “Let’s not beat the messenger.”

  “The guy just saved us from being blown to bits,” Jude interjected.

  David looked around at everyone. “How can you all be so stupid?” he shouted. “He probably planted the bomb himself!”

  That was an interesting theory. Micah had undoubtedly learned all kinds of new tricks from his friends the Skaggs. Before I could pursue it, though, the heavy sound of marching boots reached our ears. Our new protectors, the Europa Guard, were rushing in to save the day.

  “Scatter!” I ordered. Until we knew Europa’s true motives, it wouldn’t be smart to get caught at the site of a bombing.

  We took off in different directions. I raced up the alley toward Coal Mines Trail, glancing back only once to see my brother still standing in the middle of Second Street. He was refusing to follow my orders. I doubted they’d suspect him, but his determination to rebel against the rest of us worried me.

  I reached the outskirts of Pioneer Park and slowed to a walk. I heard footsteps and knew Micah had followed me.

  “Let’s just cut right to the chase,” I said.

  He fell into step beside me.

  “Who was your informant?”

  “I can’t say.”

  I gave him a direct look. “Because it’s you.”

  He blanched. “Come on, Seraphina.”

  “Only a Skagg would know about a Skagg bombing, Micah.”

  “How can you be so sure it was the Skaggs?”

  “Who else would blow up a well-known hangout of the 1st Cascade?”

  He pointed at me. “Now that is a very good question.”

  My mind churned. Was he suggesting Europa planted the bomb? I opened my mouth to ask, but he suddenly veered left toward Fourth Street.

  “Wait, where are you going?”

  “I can’t spend all my time saving you, Seraphina Donner.”

  I gritted my teeth. “You’re not off the hook yet, Micah!” I called after him.

  He responded by giving me a jaunty wave.

  I watched him walk away, hating that I could still feel so drawn to someone who’d betrayed me so badly.

  That night I had the nightmare again for the first time in months.

  I’m floating in the water. A beach of shimmering white. A mountain made of gold. Micah. The dragon roars. Eyes so red. Teeth so sharp. Run, Micah! He smiles at me as the dragon devours him.

  I woke up screaming.

  Chapter Thirteen

  On the morning of the Europa Welcome Festival, the sun struck the cloudless red sky with a beautiful blood orange and deep magenta dawn. For the first time in months, temperatures climbed a few degrees above freezing. But there wasn’t a soul on the streets.

  The Skaggs bombing of the Roslyn Café had people on edge. The big red ‘S’ painted on the sidewalk outside made it clear who’d planted the bomb. Pockets of insurgent Skaggs were still hiding out in the mountains, apparently refusing to give up the fight.

  Regardless of people’s fears, participation in the festivities at Pioneer Park was mandatory. The praetor and his men had gone all-out. Streamers of blue and gold decorated the gazebo and baseball diamond, highlighting the banners welcoming the “saviors” from Europa to our town.

  They’d built a stage and podium. They’d even strung lights around the edge of the stage to complete the grand effect, although we didn’t have the electricity to turn them on.

  The White Lighters came out in full force with fliers and bullhorns, shouting, “Endure!” Every now and then, they’d shine their flashlight into the wrong face and get it ripped from their hands and thrown back at them.

  Most citizens went to the park to celebrate. They sat around the big bonfire, drinking mulled wine from Europa and waving miniature blue and white flags like it was the Fourth of July. Though I didn’t like it, I understood Roslyn’s love affair with Europa. They wanted their grim lives to get better, so they were willing to follow anyone who promised positive change. We just couldn’t figure out what Europa wanted with Roslyn.

  I sat on a picnic table with Grandpa, Milly, and the boys, toward the back of the large crowd. David stood in the center of the picnic table so he could see the stage over the restless throng. He had a tiny Europa flag clutched in his hand and he was smiling—something I hadn’t seen him do in a long time.

  A platoon of Europa soldiers marched onto the stage. David bounced on his toes, vibrating with excitement. “Here we go!”

  The soldiers began to sing. I watched, astounded, as most of the crowd bowed their heads and fell into reverent silence.

  Hail Europa, friend of all,

  Thy mighty name makes nations tall.

  Thy will alone be law on earth.

  We welcome now thy kingdom’s birth.

  We pledge each day our hearts, our lives,

  Our every care from thee derives.

  We lay our lives down at your throne.

  Protect, preserve our life our home.

  Hail Europa!

  A cheer went up from the crowd. Several people shouted, “Hail, Europa!”

  “What a joke.” Ben shook his head in disgust.

  “We fought and died for these people,” Tim added. “And now they lay down for Europa.”

  Grandpa patted Tim on the shoulder. “‘To conquer a nation, one must first disarm its citizens.’”

  “To accept the gift of kindness,” David interjected, “one must first put down his weapons.”

  Grandpa grunted. “There’s nothin’ wrong with keepin’ an open mind, son, so long as your brain doesn’t fall outta your head in the process.”

  Like the rest of us, Grandpa tolerated David’s adoration of Europa, but David was paying for his rebellion with a loss of access. He was no longer in the loop. The rest of us knew what Grandpa had planned for that day, but, as far as David was concerned, the praetor would get exactly what he wanted: a list of 1st Cascade soldiers.

  Just the night before, under the cover of darkness, Vivica Davis had marched the 1st Cascade out of town. With the loss of her husband Charlie Eagle, she’d welcomed the opportunity to take command of the troops. She’d risen to the rank of captain in a matter of months. Grandpa knew his soldiers would be in good hands.

  Grandpa had also insisted Doctor Reinkann and his family go with Vivica. As the militia’s field surgeon, the doctor was in as much danger as the soldiers themselves. Doctor Reinkann had hesitated at first, but, for the sake of his wife and teenage sons, he’d agreed to leave in the end.

>   The Odettes and the Turners had refused to leave; they wouldn’t even discuss it. Grandpa hadn’t pressed them.

  The crowd around us cheered. We stood up to get a better look as the praetor strutted across the stage like he was accepting the presidency. He wore an ocean blue longcoat with gold shoulder braids and brass buttons. The tall, furry white hat propped on his head made him look like an overdressed chef, in my opinion. But what flanked him on both sides really caught my attention; two enormous white wolves sat precisely at his feet. They eyed the crowd as he stepped up to the podium. They were magnificent and, without a doubt, lethal.

  As usual, the praetor’s broad smile was pervasive. He waited until the applause died down before speaking. Though we couldn’t hear him, he kept talking as if we could.

  “We can’t hear you!” shouted the crowd.

  The praetor smiled. Shrugged. Shook his head. Finally, he turned to his personal guard George, standing behind him, and gestured dramatically. It was all so overdone I felt like I was watching a bad high school play.

  George handed him a microphone and the crowd chuckled a bit at that folly. Then we all gasped in shock as the loud, high-pitched squeal of microphone feedback cut through the cold morning air. I watched, stunned, as the praetor bent his head to the mic.

  “Can you hear me now?”

  His voice boomed out like thunder. His wolves startled and snapped at each other. And then the lights strung up around the edge of the stage lit up like a Christmas tree.

  The audience lost their minds.

  David thrust his hand in the air and cheered. “Yes! Yes!”

  Milly and I stared at each other in shock. Europa had done it. They’d turned on the electricity.

  The praetor’s friendly, accented voice boomed out over the crowd. “People of Kittitas County, I am Praetor Stanislov, the humble commander of the Europa Military Guard.”

  The crowd was going wild.

  “Gotta give the man credit,” Grandpa conceded. “He knows how to make an entrance.”

  The praetor nodded gratefully in response to the cheers, then waited for the crowd to quiet down. “For months, Europa has watched with deep distress as you have struggled,” he began. “A timeless historical bond once linked the United States with the international community, but that bond was severed many years ago by your own inflexible government. For over a decade, Europa has worked to gain the proud confidence of the European people through the noble ideals of a One World government, while, here in America, your intractable leaders thrust you into a long, hard period of suffering and bitter adversity.