Rebel (The Alliance Chronicles Book 4)

by SF Benson

  “Come on. It’s time for us to go.” I wrap an arm around her waist and head for the door.

  She yawns. “Where, Zared?”

  “Just keep walking. This will be over soon.”

  It’s not one of my better ideas, but it will have to do. With my hand on the small of Tru’s back, I guide her off the sidewalk and toward the cars. We don’t follow the same route we took to get to the building. Instead, we walk past a makeshift tunnel for cars set up in the parking lot. Hayes Road is up ahead.

  Brakes squeal behind us. A car door opens and closes.

  I pull Tru closer to me.

  Behind us, another pair of shoes strike the concrete, slow at first. When I pick up the pace, those footfalls crash the pavement with a new intensity.

  “Stop!” the male voice shouts. His weapon clicks. “Don’t make me shoot.”

  I squeeze Tru’s side. “Babe, stay calm. We’ll figure this out.”

  In case I needed visual proof of the trouble we’re in, a squad car cuts off our path. My heart sinks like a runaway elevator.

  Tru and I sit in a small, windowless room. We’re on one side of a stainless-steel table. The ruddy-faced officer who escorted us to the airport is on the other side. A woman of Asian descent stands behind him. Her appearance is severe—dark hair pulled back and a navy-blue pantsuit. Her sensible shoes hammer the tile floor as she paces. Every few minutes her almond-shaped eyes land on us.

  “So you are the two AR citizens wanted by your government?” she says.

  “Let us explain,” I tell her.

  She stops, rests her hands on the table, and leans forward. “Explain to me why I shouldn’t deport you right now.”

  “Because turning us over is a death sentence,” Tru says. “I’m scheduled to be imprisoned and studied like a bug under glass. Ever hear of Project Restore?”

  The woman shakes her head.

  “The New Order plans on taking over the world using clones. They’ll replace key people around the globe with Perfected Clones. These clones will act and say whatever the leaders want them to.”

  “Why should I believe you, young lady?”

  Tru folds her arms across her chest. “If you know anyone who has ever been inoculated with the Ebola preventative vaccine, you know I’m telling the truth.”

  The officer sits forward. His name tag reads E. Barraza. “Tell me ‘bout the vaccine.”

  My girlfriend glances at me. I nod. This is her show. I’m going to let her run it. I’ll back up whatever she needs, though.

  “Seventeen-year-olds are mandated to have the vaccine. After the injection, they don’t act the same.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “How do ya mean?”

  Tru catches on pretty fast. “You have a kid who had the injection?”

  “No. My niece. She lives in New Detroit,” he says solemnly.

  “Did she have creative tendencies?” Tension oozes through her voice.

  “Yeah. She used to write music. Her compositions were strokes of genius. Tai even played the violin.”

  Tru gasps. “You’re Tai Barraza’s uncle?”

  “Yeah.” His head bobs up and down. “Do ya know her?”

  “I remember her before she had the vaccine. Afterward, she regressed to a toddler. The girl couldn’t go out in public without her parents beside her.”

  “And ya think the vaccine is responsible?” he asks.

  “Yes,” Tru replies. “We found proof.”

  “Where is it now?”

  “With a man named Leon Sieben,” I interject. “He’s trying to find a cure for the damage the vaccine causes.”

  The Asian woman finally speaks up, “Officer Barraza, I need you to come with me. We need to check out this story.”

  Officer Barraza stands. “Stay put, ya two. We’ll be back.”

  As soon as the door closes, Tru jumps to her feet. “We can’t wait for them to return.”

  My body slumps. “Tru, there’s no place for us to go.”

  “The plane. We still have to get out of here.”

  “Babe, think. We’re in airport security.” I gather her into my arms.

  Tru places her hands on my chest and pushes me away. “We can find a way out of here. Are you with me? Or would you rather wait—”

  “Don’t go there. That’s how the last argument started. If I recall, I didn’t win that one either.”

  She glares at me before going to the door. Tru twists the knob and eases the door open.

  I can’t let her risk everything while I stand back and watch. I gently push her to the side and poke my head out. The hall is clear. We step out. To the right is a post-security clearance area. It’s crammed with passengers waiting near a gate. On my left is a door. I ease it open and discover a storage closet.

  Tru is being her normal, impatient self. She steps around me and tries the next door. She gives me a thumbs up and disappears inside. I rush to follow her.

  “Wait, babe,” I whisper-shout.

  Her foot is poised over the first step. The only thing saving us is the staircase isn’t dark. I put my hand on the gun in my pocket.

  Carefully, we make our way down into the bowels of the airport. Carts and different types of abandoned equipment fill the area. A few hollowed rooms for offices sit unused like relics from the past. I don’t see any security cameras. Thank God.

  Tru tugs my arm and drags me to the right. This level is too open for my comfort. I’m waiting for a gun to click or even a dog to bark at us. We keep moving and I spot another door. Tru drops my wrist and takes off.

  Where’s the worn-out girl I saw not too long ago?

  She yanks the door open. Thankfully, no one greets us in the stairwell. At the top of the stairs is a glass door leading outside. It’s hard to believe we made it. We just need to find a way to get on the other side of the parking lot and then find the hangar.

  We step into the bright sun and right into the path of Officer Barraza and the Asian woman.

  “It’s a future where clones exist and they dictate the way of the world. My parents died trying to keep the New Order’s secrets. No one else should die because of our leaders.”

  —from Tru Shepard’s Address to the American Republic

  Tru

  For every step forward we take, someone comes along and shoves us back. Frankly, I’m tired of it. All this nonsense—the secrets, the lies, the corrupt politicians—it has to stop now.

  Officer Barraza’s weapon is still in its holster. A slight grimace crosses his face as he reaches for the gun.

  The Asian woman sets her jaw and places her hands on her hips. “I asked you to stay put. How can we trust you if you won’t trust us?”

  “I don’t trust easily,” I admit.

  “Understood, but we need to continue our discussion. Follow me.” She walks down the curb. A man, beside a limo, opens a door. She says, “After you, Miss Shepard.”

  All four of us enter the car. The driver closes the door and goes around to the front of the vehicle.

  The woman unbuttons her jacket and leans back. “My name is Agent Machiko Santos.”

  “Hybrid,” I say.

  “I prefer mixed race.” Ms. Santos crosses her legs. “We’re investigating your story.”

  “Can we cut the bullshit?” Zared squeezes my hand. “You either believe us or you don’t. If you believe us, you realize what will happen if you turn us in. Please let us go.”

  Officer Barraza tries to hide the grin on his face.

  “Very well.” Ms. Santos sighs. “I’ve been working with a group called The Network. When you mentioned Leon’s name, that let me know you were potentially telling us the truth. The Canadian government learned about some of the shadier practices of the AR about two years ago. We’ve been trying to get information. Leon hasn’t always been forthright.”

  Zared clears his throat. “I’m not trying to be difficult, but what does this have to do with us?”

  “If you have information, we need it,” Miss
Santos says sharply. “We are building a case to take before the United Nations.”

  “Sorry.” Zared shakes his head. “I’m not putting my family in any further danger. Whatever information you’re looking for will have to come from Leon.”

  Officer Barraza’s gaze shifts from Zared to me. “Miss Shepard, the pregnancy is real?”

  “Yes, and I agree with Zared. I’ve given all the information I can give.”

  Ms. Santos purses her lips and glances out the window. “Not the answer I want to hear.”

  “Then deport us, Ms. Santos,” I reply. “If your conscience will let you, turn us over to the AR. My boyfriend will be arrested and most likely executed. After sorting my DNA, the scientists at the Centers for Human Advancement will terminate me. Is that something you can live with?”

  The woman drums her fingers along the seat. Emotion chokes her voice as she tells me, “I understand your reluctance, Miss Shepard. I had a brother. He was still in the AR when I came to Canada. Yoshi lost his life trying to cross the International Bridge after curfew.”

  My head drops. I remember Cris losing his life, thanks to Eden, at the bridge. Of course, officials covered up the instance. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you,” she says softly and the moment quickly passes. Detective Santos’s brow furrows. “But if his death really bothers you, think of all the others who can’t leave the AR.”

  “Ms. Santos,” Zared starts.

  “No,” I interject. My voice rises, “Lady, we’ve done nothing more than think about everyone else. Did you not hear me tell Officer Barraza that I’m pregnant? I’m done with this shit. Either let us go or lock us up. Easy decision.”

  Ms. Santos knocks on the opaque divider. The car comes to a stop.

  “If ya don’t mind my asking,” Officer Barraza starts, “where are ya headed?”

  I’m done talking to these people. I glance out the window.

  “There’s a plane waiting for us,” Zared says.

  Officer Barraza asks, “Private?”

  “Yeah. We’re headed to the New Mexican territory.”

  “Son, anybody tell ya that the territory is in the AR?”

  I like how Officer Barraza is trying to retain a little humor. Ms. Santos, on the other hand, isn’t hiding her contempt. She crosses her arms and stares out the window with her downturned mouth.

  “We realize that,” Zared explains. “It’s easier to get back into the AR out west. The militia don’t care about anyone coming down from Canada.”

  I lower the window and notice the private hangar in the distance. A man in camouflage gear leans against a building.

  Zared places his hand on my knee before I open the door. He leans forward and fixes his eyes on me. “Tru, wait a minute. Please.”

  I glare over his shoulder at Ms. Santos. “One minute.”

  “Ms. Santos,” Zared says. “I’m sorry we can’t help you any further. Advise your people to get the SIM card from Leon. If he doesn’t have it, the intel is on the DarkNet. Once we are settled if I come across anything that might help you, I’ll reach out.”

  She nods.

  I open the door and slide off the slick leather seat. Before standing, I throw over my shoulder, “Thank you for letting us go. And, Officer Barraza, I am very sorry about Tai.”

  I don’t have the heart to tell him that Tai died a long time ago.

  The opportunity to prevent defeat is in our own hands, but the enemy will provide the opportunity to defeat himself.

  —from “An Introspective on Combative Strategies” by Dawa Zhu

  Zared

  A man with wild carrot-orange hair waits beside the hangar. His moss-green t-shirt strains across his muscular upper body. Even his camouflage pants seem a little snug. He has no jacket and wears dark glasses like it’s a hot summer day.

  As we walk up, he lowers the shades, runs a hand through his hair, and asks, “Would you be the new employee of Mr. Winters?”

  “Yeah.” I grasp his outstretched hand. “Sorry it took so long.”

  He gives us the once over and pushes off the side of the building. “Not a prob! I’ve contacted Mr. Winters. We leave as soon as you’re ready.”

  I glance over at Tru, and she nods. “Let’s go.”

  Tru and I follow the broad-shouldered man past the hangar and across the tarmac. A towering, yet attractive, blonde waits near a portable staircase. She’s dressed in a leather jacket over a white top and tight jeans. A gun sits in a holster at her waist. I’m betting there’s a blade sheathed in her combat boots, too. My eyes take in the oversized, silvery white and black private jet. I was expecting a commuter plane.

  She smiles as we approach. Her raspy voice is also unexpected. “Miss Shepard… Mr. Aoki… I’m Dr. Leslie Kapernecki. I was told you might need some medical attention.”

  My mouth opens, but I can’t find the right words. Tru and I haven’t discussed the pregnancy with anyone else. Who would have told this woman our news?

  Dr. Kapernecki sweeps her ash-blonde hair off her shoulder. “Mr. Winters told me about Miss Shepard’s condition. I’m here to check her out. Just want to make sure she’s okay before we leave. I’ll be making the trip with you to make sure you get across the border safely.”

  The man with us stops in front of her. “Hey, Leslie. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  Her smile evaporates when she looks at him. “I wish someone had warned me you’d be on board.”

  “Now, Leslie.” He attempts to touch her.

  She grabs his wrist before it comes close. “Don’t you even think about it, Red. It’s not going to be that type of trip.”

  Red watches her sashay up the stairs. His lips lift at the corners. “Never mind her, folks. Leslie Kapernecki can be a bit moody.”

  Something tells me it goes a lot deeper than a little grouchiness.

  The cabin’s interior blows me away. There’s enough headroom to accommodate someone six foot plus. Leather swivel seats grace either side of the jet. A stone-finish drop-down table, set up with a white linen tablecloth and service for two, is between a couple of the seats. Further back, a long sofa faces a TV console with a flat screen on top. Red drops down in front of the TV and puts his feet up.

  Dr. Kapernecki stands in the rear of the plane beside a door. She waves to us. “Come on back.”

  Tru and I walk past another pair of seats before going through the doorway. A queen-sized bed is tucked into a corner. Just beyond it is a spacious washroom with a walk-in shower.

  “I can finally shower,” Tru beams. Her eyes lose their brightness when she rubs her hand over her grubby jeans.

  “Mr. Winters prepared for the possibility, Miss Shepard. On the bench, you’ll find a change of clothes.”

  “How did he know?” Tru folds her arms across her chest and tilts her head.

  Dr. Kapernecki sits on the side of the bed. “You will find there isn’t much Mr. Winters doesn’t know. In this case, however, Captain Jones told him what you would need. His grandmother made sure the plane was well-stocked. There’s also a change of clothes for you, Mr. Aoki.”

  “Hey, could you do us a favor and drop the formality? I’m simply Zared, and this is Tru.”

  “If you’ll call me Leslie, we’re even,” she says and stands. “Give me a few minutes alone with Tru, and then we’ll prepare for take-off. Once we’re in the air, you can shower and relax.”

  Half an hour later, Tru and I are showered and lying in bed. She leans against me and looks out at the clear sky. It’s taken a lot to get to this moment. I didn’t think it would ever happen—me with my girl in my arms and all the drama behind us.

  Tru yawns. “This is nice. Did Asher ever tell you about his grandfather?”

  “Mr. Winters? No. I never knew anything about the man. Asher barely mentions his grandmother.”

  “Maybe he was keeping them safe?”

  “Possibly.”

  Tru shifts in my arms and looks up at me. “You realize we’re done wit
h all this cloak-and-dagger crap? No more running from the authorities.”

  I stroke her jaw with my finger. “Yeah. We have a new mission though.”

  Her eyebrows knit together. “No, Zared. I’m tired of—”

  I can’t help but grin. “You’ll like this one. It involves you, me, and a baby building a normal life together.”

  “You’re right. I like that mission a lot.” She leans up and brushes her lips against mine. This is something I could get used to.

  Perfection lies in blocking your enemy without a struggle.

  —from “An Introspective on Combative Strategies” by Dawa Zhu

  Tru

  Months later—Valentine’s Day

  A lot has changed since the day we walked across the tarmac at Windsor International Airport. The biggest change has been the normalcy in my life. I have a regular routine now. Asher’s grandmother, Sibley Winters, stops by almost daily to check up on me. With Zared at work, I spend most of my day with the adventurous woman. She allows me to use her secret art studio, and she makes sure I’m rested and fed throughout the day.

  The cacti outside our bedroom window still startle me from time to time. It’s taking a while for me to get used to living in the New Mexican territory. Thankfully, the twins won’t have to adapt.

  Having twins is the other big change. Zared and I were hardly prepared for the birth of one child. Sibley took me to her doctor shortly after we arrived here. Once we got the news, Zared went into panic mode. He’s been working long hours and buying everything he thinks we need for two kids. Today, he was supposed to go to the doctor with me, but he was a no-show. It’s not the first appointment he’s missed.

  I pat the leather jacket in my lap. It’s my relic from all the crap we went through. Zared wants me to throw it out, but I can’t. It holds one more set of secrets tucked beneath the lining. As far as I’m concerned, those pages will never see the light of day.