But it’s a little too convenient—the bombings of Atlanta and Charlotte. Someone emptied the city of nearly the entire population and left the central infrastructure in place. Once the population dwindled to nearly nothing, suddenly the Arc people showed up and start picking off the remaining witnesses.
Genetic engineering, ridding the planet of undesirables, internment camps. Just who is my father, exactly? If I let on what I suspect, what will happen to me, especially now that I’ve told him I’m an undesirable myself?
Something tells me that for now, I’m going to have to play nice. Long enough to decide what I want to do, anyway.
“You know, Dad, ballet ended up saving my life quite a few times.” I tell him about the time I jetéed across to the other building, and how I entranced a sniper because he thought all art was gone forever. “You should have seen him, Dad. He was mesmerized. He let me go. So you see, ballet isn’t entirely worthless.” I give him what I hope is a roguish smile.
He draws himself up. “I didn’t say it was worthless. I just said it wasn’t a career choice.”
I twist my lips. “You were right about one thing. It didn’t put food on the table.”
“I’m glad you lived, sweetie. I don’t know how you did it, but I’m glad.”
“Well, part of it was because of you.” I nod. “You read me a lecture once, and it turned out to be the most important thing you ever said to me. After I lost everyone, I made it my code. I never veered from it, and that’s what saved me.”
He cocks his head. “What advice was that?”
“You told me to get useful skills because if anything ever happened, I had to be able to do for myself. You told me never to trust someone else with my future, because everyone’s out for themselves. Every bit of it was right.”
He tucks his chin and frowns. “When did I say that?”
“When I wanted to go to that ballet school. I was saying I had my trust fund, and you said Westers don’t rely on their trust funds, they work. Then I said I’d marry someone rich, and you said he could take everything I had and leave me with nothing.”
He brightens. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
I shake my head. “I was so mad. I hated you for weeks. But every skill I learned, everything I did, it was based on that bit of advice. It’s what saved me. That and Charlie.”
He scowls. “Who’s Charlie?”
I hope that captain’s feeding him. “He’s this cat. We cuddled at night to keep warm. He used to bring me rats and mice. I’d eat the meat, and he’d eat the rest.”
When I look at Dad, he looks like he’s going to vomit. He clears his throat a couple of times. “Well. Let’s get you out of here and safely to the Arc.”
Now I’m the one that wants to puke. Actual bile pokes at the back of my throat, and I have to swallow to shove it back down.
I eye Dad sideways. “What about that guy who found me?”
He spreads his hands, like who?
“It was that sniper who let me go. He found me again and said I didn’t have to live like that anymore. He was supposed to take me to the whatever, commander? But before he could, a bunch of soldiers broke down the door like I was some kind of criminal. Seriously, Dad, I’m not that big. Where was I going to go? I was really scared—it was instinct, throwing the knife. Then they tried to shoot me. This one guy raised his gun and aimed it right at me.”
“Why wasn’t I told this?”
I shrug, but I’m shaking. I can’t let them punish Jackson, and I need my dad to buy this. “The only reason I’m standing here is because that sergeant pushed me aside. He ended up getting shot instead of me. I thought you should know since he saved my life.”
He breathes deep and presses a hand around my shoulder. I make every effort not to flinch. “I’ll remember that. What did you say his name was?”
“Sergeant Martell. Oh, and I want my cat. That’s nonnegotiable. I’m not going anywhere without him.”
He scowls. “What kind of a cat?”
“The kind that feeds your daughter.”
He rocks his head as though weighing that. “Thank Sergeant Martell; save the cat. Any more requests?”
“Get rid of that Dana thing. She’s weak, and she has an attitude. This piece-of-shit sweater is her doing.”
He flicks it a glance and snorts.
I do have another request, but it’s more of a demand. He’ll never understand it, though, and I don’t voice it. Every person I’ve ever cared about has died, sent me away, or left me to die. I’ve been looking after myself since I was thirteen, and it’s too late for me to be a little girl again. No one controls my life but me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jackson
I itch twenty layers of skin deep. Even my muscles itch. I can’t get at the actual wound, so I scratch a never-ending circle around the bandages. The healing part is almost worse than getting shot.
The door opens and I catch a headful of dark hair and for a moment my heart kicks up. It’s just a nurse. When she hands me a painkiller, I tuck it into my cheek and pretend to swallow. As soon as she leaves, I spit it out. I could use it, really, but I need to think more than I need the itching to stop.
Every muscle in my body is going to explode if I don’t get up now and find Amelia. I knew she’d never come back when I told her I was bored and we were over. Christ, the look on her face. Just saying the words killed me. I wanted her to go, but now that she has, I can’t get her out of my head. If I live another twenty years, I’ll still be looking for her in every dark-haired girl I see.
Is she even okay? She looked all right when I saw her, so the questioning must not be too bad. In fact, she looked great. Well, until I kicked her in the gut. If I could see her one more time, just once, maybe I wouldn’t feel so sick about what I did to her.
I’ve tried three days straight to get out of this bed, but yeah, hasn’t happened. This morning I got as far as a sitting position before the pain meds sent me back against my pillow.
As far as the military is concerned, I should have turned Amelia in right when the commander asked for her. What’s next for me is discipline. I’ll get demoted maybe, that or sent back to the Arc. Hell, they could toss my ass out of the program altogether. Amelia’s better off without me.
She’ll definitely eat regularly at the labor camp. Maybe she can finally make some friends. She’s so beautiful, so compliant and easy to please. I don’t see how anyone could hurt her unless he was a sadistic prick. She’ll replace me within a week.
A mental picture of her bent over with another man’s dick in her ass slices me right in the throat. Shit. I’d yank the fucker’s balls out through his nose before I let that happen. It won’t be long before there’s another guy sucking her tits. She loves that, and I know she’ll not only let the bastard do it, she’ll pull him to her and beg for more. My hands shake, and I ball them into fists. You know he’s going to want her to suck him off. She’ll blink up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes while her mouth sucks the wad right out of him.
I burn like I’ve been doused with jet fuel and set on fire. I want to smash my fist into the motherfucker’s face.
Any man shoots his load in my girl, I’ll kill him.
You know what? I shove the swivel tray away. This is bullshit. You can’t fuck a job. It can’t wind its legs around you and scream. I know of at least five other cities that’re doing fine, and I’d bet my ass they’d love to hear all about the Arc and what they’re planning. I’m getting out of here, and I’m taking Amelia with me. Now, before they can do anything else to her.
Or me.
I draw myself into a sitting position, and immediately the stitches pull. I grit my teeth at the tearing sensation.
I’m just dropping my feet over the side of the bed when there’s a brief knock and the door swings open.
“Trying to escape?” A middle-aged guy in a business suit walks in. A business suit. This is the first time I’ve seen anything but scrubs, military un
iforms, or rags in I’d say years.
The man approaches me and sticks out his hand. Who the hell is he? Mindful of my wounds, I shake it.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” When he smiles, his eyes crinkle.
There is something familiar about him, but I can’t quite place it. “Not offhand, sorry.”
“Carlton Wester. You and your friends got me out of Atlanta and escorted me to the Arc.”
Right. The guy who saved me from being a scrap. “And you paid me back with a job. Good to see you again, Mr. Wester.”
The man ducks his head, accepting the respect.
“I hear you’ve been doing a bang-up job here in Charlotte,” he says.
“I don’t know about that, sir. There are a few who might say different.”
“I understand you actually caught one of the savages.”
“I met a young woman. She’s not a savage. She needed a shower and some new clothes quite badly, but she’s a pretty little thing.”
“Pretty, eh?” He’s subtle about it, but he looks me up and down.
I half shrug. “Needs to gain about twenty pounds.”
The man nods. “I understand you took a bullet trying to protect her.” He cocks his head to one side.
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “I didn’t mean to take a bullet. I just wanted to push her out of the way.”
His shoulders relax. “Well, I don’t blame you there. Sergeant Martell, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You saved my life once. You’ve demonstrated smarts and good instincts, and you’ve proven yourself loyal. I’m offering you a promotion.”
I try not to laugh. “That’s nice of you, sir, but I don’t think the commander here would agree—”
“The commander works for me, Sergeant. Not the other way around. We’re starting next month in Atlanta. I don’t want you back at the Arc; I want you in the field. That is, if you’ll take the position, Commander Martell.”
I catch my breath as the adrenaline hits my blood. I can’t have heard him right. “Sir?”
“Terminate the cannibals, all of them. Process the non-cannibals and secure them in labor camps, and take inventory of what’s left of the city. Think you’re up to taking Atlanta back?” He smiles grimly.
I know I can. I also feel like I’ll hurl any second, so I just nod.
He takes a breath and looks at his watch. If I’m not mistaken, it's a goddamn Rolex. “Then I can count on you in Atlanta, Martell?”
I lift my chin and suppress the ridiculous grin that tries to pop out. “Of course, sir.”
“Heal up soon, soldier.” Wester shakes my hand again. His grip is firm and there’s an air of triumph about him, like he’s accomplished something important. I’m neither interesting nor important, and I’ve done nothing to deserve a promotion like this. What’s the deal?
He strides from the room and shuts the door behind him with a distinct click. I wipe a hand down my face. Commander of the Atlanta forces. I never aimed that high even when I was fantasizing. It’s a fucking dream, that’s what it is, and I want to puke. The idea of grabbing Amelia and fleeing to one of the other cities was easy. As elitist as these people seem to be, they’ll never tolerate me shacking up with a scrub.
I smack the swivel tray, and plastic dishes fly everywhere. Twenty minutes ago I had my whole life decided. There are other women. I need to just man up and go. I can’t throw my career away on a girl.
I’m going to Atlanta.
And in about five minutes some guy will be balls-deep in my girl. His mouth will water like mine does when her tits bounce, and her face will twist up in that way it always does when she’s about to—
I don’t give a shit where she’s from. She was my virgin, and there will be no other cock in her cunt. I don’t care if she spent the first thirteen years of her life in a crack house. Christ, the girl’s seen firsthand I’m fucked in the head, and she doesn’t even care. She’s coming to Atlanta, whether they like it or not.
And then I’m going to fuck her so hard she won’t be able to walk for a week.
Amelia is mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Amelia
I wouldn’t feel anywhere near as stupid if Jackson’s expression didn’t go blank. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to say goodbye.” I try to keep my voice cheerful, but my heart is breaking all over again. He made me say it over and over. I love you. Then when I fell in love for real, he left me. I came to say goodbye, and I came to torture myself with one last breath in the same room as him.
“You heard already?” He sits up straight and rearranges the ugly blue and white hospital gown.
I stop short. “Heard what?”
“I got a promotion. I’m going to be commanding officer down in Atlanta. Once I heal, that is.”
He’s already a million miles from me. I could reach right out and touch him, but he’s gone. Having him move to Atlanta shouldn’t hurt, but it does. I want to beg him not to leave me, but there’s no point. I can’t make him love me back. “That’s great. It’s what you always wanted.”
“It was. It’s not anymore. Amelia, baby, I don’t want it without you.”
My heart splinters into thousands of tiny pieces and regroups into something shinier and ten times bigger. At the same time my throat burns and I want to smack him. “You broke up with me. You said you were bored. I heard you.”
“I lied.” He ducks his head. He presses his lips together and looks to the wall like it has some kind of answer. “I thought at the very least they’d send me back to the arc, probably worse. I knew here you’d have food and a place to live.”
“Jackson, I don’t want to be some guy’s convenience. It’s not enough.”
“You’re not – You’re not a convenience.” He inhales through his nose and runs a hand through his hair. “Ever since I sent you away you’re all I can think about. Hell, even before that. Every time I picture you with any other guy but me I go nuts. I need you, Amelia! Come with me.”
I shake and every piece of me feels drawn to him like he’s my north. I want to say yes. Like, more than I wanted to be a ballerina. I’m so in love with him I’m lost. The thing is, I’m scared. Really, really scared.
Dad told me a lot between yesterday and today, and what I know now gives me chills. No one is in the arc that didn’t meet their criteria, and most of that was about having the right bloodline. They’ve actually been breeding people, eliminating things like mental illness, genetic diseases, and undesirable personality traits. There isn’t a soul in there with an I.Q. lower than one-forty. Dad’s talking about rebuilding the world but doing it right this time. They do need other people, but the undesirables will be sterilized, and everyone else will be carefully bred until they too have an acceptable genetic pool. I picture thousands of Danas and Amelias running around, all of them identical, and it scares the hair off my head. Plus, they went around Charlotte for weeks shooting anything that moved. I couldn’t ask him – I couldn’t—but I still wonder if the arc people are the ones who gassed the towers. It’s just too convenient. They could be responsible for killing Matthew and Mom. I can’t ask the question because I’m afraid of the answer, but if I don’t have the answer, I can’t be with the arc people and still live with myself. And there’s no way Dad will ever let me be with someone he considers so far beneath me.
“When we were in your apartment, it was like heaven to me,” I tell him. “It’s not just that I was warm and I had food, or even that I had someone to talk to. It was like you came to me because we were meant for each other. Every word out of your mouth made me happy. Not, you know, that one night. But I would have gone anywhere with you until you told me we were through.” And now everything is different. “I can’t go to Atlanta with you, Jackson.”
“I’m not letting you go this time,” he says, his voice choked with emotion. He shakes his head. “I don’t care what it takes. If I have to kidnap you again, I will.�
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His words sends a pulse right to my core. I almost want him to. God. I bite my lips and cross my arms. “There’s a big hole in your chest, Jackson. I can run a lot faster and I can do anything I want.”
He curses softly. “What is it about these people that you hate so much?”
“Other than the fact that they shot up Charlotte? Jackson, you have no idea who you’re dealing with. The arc isn’t just a group of guys who got together a couple years back and built a bunker. These people have been pairing bloodlines, carefully creating babies with the right traits, the right looks, and of the right class for a thousand years. When Yellowstone blew, anyone that didn’t meet their criteria didn’t get a spot in the arc. They actually think they’re doing the right thing. They’re trying to create the perfect world by breeding out the undesirables. I don’t think it’s a mistake that they sent you to Charlotte to kill everyone.”
He leans forward and takes my hand. His skin is warm and it makes me glow.
“Amelia, I don’t care if your grandfather’s a drug lord. We don’t have to deal with these people directly. At least, you don’t. Come with me. I’ll protect you. I promise.”
His eyes are so soft, so earnest. It’s almost as though … but that’s ridiculous. “Jackson, I—”
“Come here,” he says, tugging me closer.
“They’ll never, ever let me—”
I wouldn’t feel anywhere near as stupid if Jackson’s expression didn’t go blank. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to say good-bye.” I try to keep my voice cheerful, but my heart is breaking all over again. He made me say it over and over. I love you. Then when I fell in love for real, he left me. I came to say good-bye, and I came to torture myself with one last breath in the same room as him.
“You heard already?” He sits up straight and rearranges the ugly blue and white hospital gown.
Five O'Clock Shadow: A Standalone Dark Romance (Snow and Ash) Page 15