The girl wore the same outfit Jesse had seen another girl wearing earlier. She had on a modest blue smock with no decorations whatsoever. This stood out in sharp contrast with the half-naked women he had seen clapping and cheering earlier. Eve was wearing the same outfit. It appeared Amish, perhaps. Something conservative, but he had not seen anything that would lead him to believe it was religious in nature.
No, it was…just odd.
But he also noticed something else about the girl. Her belly stood out and pressed against the front of her dress.
She was pregnant.
He marveled at the sight and became lost in the thought. Another girl showed up with a pitcher clutched in both hands. Her belly was even larger than the first's. Maybe pregnant women had it different here. He had not seen any children, only men, so perhaps they were some odd cultish group. The guy running the show certainly dressed the part. He wanted to ask more about it, but was sure he would not like the answer.
He also did not have time to consider this further.
Red liquid sloshed over the rim of his glass. The girl who had just arrived girl had overfilled his cup. He reached for the glass to steady it. Her face went two shades paler than the sheet white she already was, and she started bowing apologetically.
“It's okay,” he said. “No…really.”
She hurried to the other side of the table, shuffling her feet in a short, choppy run. He lifted his glass carefully, trying not to spill any. The wine smelled strong, acidic. The girl came alongside Cyrus. She was skittish near him, like a newborn foal. Her hands shook, causing the wine in the pitcher to slosh and spill over the edge and onto the tablecloth.
Cyrus took the pitcher from her and set it on the table. He gestured for her to move beside him. After she had, he wrapped an arm around her waist and tilted to gaze up at her face. He touched her belly with the backsides of his fingers, rubbing up and down. She pushed closer to him and let his fingers run over the bump in her belly. Jesse saw Eve pretending to ignore Cyrus's affections toward the girl, but she was not hiding anything, not well, at least. He coughed slightly when he saw this and wanted to warn her to be careful.
“Thank you, my dear. That will be enough,” Cyrus said to the girl. She left the pitcher on the table and hurriedly disappeared behind a curtained partition. He watched her go then returned his attention to Jesse. “And your quiet friend here? Where is he from? Not California, I would know that. He doesn't have the look.”
Jesse acted confused, looking left, right, shrugging.
“New York,” Cory replied before Jesse could say anything else.
“New York?” Cyrus said as if he did not believe him. “Then you have traveled far then. And you met… Jesse in California?”
“Yes,” Cory said curtly.
Cyrus nodded once. “Do you have a last name?”
“Yes,” Cory replied.
Cyrus waited a beat. When Cory said nothing else, he simply grinned and continued. “David tells me you two arrived in style. Had quite the car. A GTO if I am not mistaken. Old one, too. Not even banged up. I would very much like to see it.”
“Sure,” Jesse said warily.
“Where, may I ask, did you get it?”
“California.”
“Cal-if-ornia,” Cyrus repeated slowly, pinching his bottom lip between thumb and index finger.
Jesse suddenly worried he had missed something. He shut his mouth and waited. Then, when it seemed neither would speak, Eve traced a finger on the back of Cyrus's hand, drawing circles. He relaxed and made a hmmm noise.
“Eve, my dear, I'd like to formally introduce you to our new heroes of the Spring Games. This brave man is Jesse Pre-ie-o, and this is Cory. They both fought bravely and overcame odds that—” He stopped, looked off at something, and drummed his fingers on the table anxiously. He was watching someone approach. Jesse resisted the urge to turn around and look.
Abruptly, Cyrus shoved his chair back and rose from the table. “I'd appreciate it if you could stay here and keep them company while I attend to other matters.”
Everyone nearby pushed their chairs away from the table and rose. Jesse exchanged glances with Cory and then Eve, gleaning nothing.
After a slight bow, Cyrus raised Eve's hand to his lips and kissed it. “Eve, I'm sure, will delight you all with her very presence.”
She smiled dubiously and nodded.
Cyrus frowned. “David, come with me.”
Jesse glanced over his left shoulder. David was there. He had seen the guy before. Where? He was just so damn familiar. It had to have been years ago, somewhere, someplace. Only, it just wasn't clicking. He squinted and tried to picture the guy differently, inspecting him closely, but nothing came to mind. He shook his head to clear it.
Eve indicated for Jesse to sit and checked left, right. She leaned closer.
Before she could speak, he whispered, “You okay?”
She nodded and whispered back, “You shouldn't be here. If he knew who you were and what you did, he'd kill you.”
“That's the chance we took,” he said dismissively. “How about Kate? Is she okay?”
“She is,” Eve said, pulling back. She leaned forward again. “She's at the table by the beer signs over there.” She showed him the location with her eyes and a barely perceivable tilt of her head.
Jesse folded his arms, pushed his back against his chair, and looked in the opposite direction. Stretching his neck as if it was sore, he twisted the way she had indicated.
Kate!
The excitement was difficult to contain. He shifted uneasily in his chair. He wanted to run to her, grab her by the hand, and sprint for the nearest exit. Instead, he finished his stretch, absorbing everything around Kate in a single mental snapshot. Behind her was a partition made of two-by-fours and plywood. On that wall were various logos for beer companies along with posters of naked women. To the right of that was a long bar where sour-looking men sat on barstools, drinking what looked like beer. All of them there wore gold armbands on their right arms. Kate was sitting across from an old woman. She was lit by a single candle on the table. Both looked woefully out of place. The woman with Kate appeared ancient, hunched over, beaten down. Kate looked…different. Her hair was cut short, and she had a ragged, filthy appearance. She was not dressed like the women in the blue smocks, nor was she dressed like the other women in the skimpy outfits that made them look like dancers at a strip club.
Jesse no longer felt tired. He straightened, feeling the vertebrae in his back pop one by one.
“What's her situation?” he asked.
“Kate's okay. For now.”
“What's that mean? Why? What's going on?”
“She's fine. Trust me. I've kept a close eye on her. Nothing bad has happened to her.”
“Is something going to happen to her?”
Eve hesitated, rubbing her lips together. Finally, she said, “Maybe.”
“What?”
“I can't say.”
“Can't or won't?”
Eve said nothing.
“Who's that woman next to her?”
“Andrea. She's a doctor. She's been taking good care of Kate. Keeping her from—”
“Him?” Jesse interjected.
Eve glanced away.
He pulled at the tablecloth, anger growing.
Eve made a subtle calming gesture. “No, no. She's safe. Don't worry. She's turning out to be helpful.”
He wasn't so sure of what she was saying. He didn't trust her. “So what is it with the pregnant women in blue? And you? Are you?”
She shook her head no.
“Are they all his?”
She nodded.
Cory asked Eve in level tone, “What if he does not get you pregnant?”
This took Jesse by surprise, Eve even more so.
“I… I can't say. No, please,” she answered apprehensively. “He's good to me. It will happen. I know it. You,” she said, alternating glances between Jesse and Cory, “need
to leave as soon as possible. It is too dangerous for you to be here. He can't know. He should never know. So…please, just leave.”
Jesse was stunned to silence. She had settled into a new life here. Coming to rescue her had been a mistake. But there was still Kate. He wasn't leaving without her.
In a whisper, Eve asked them both, “What about the virus?”
Cory glared at Jesse, saying nothing.
Jesse squeezed the tablecloth in his right fist, pulling it slowly toward himself. “We came here for you and Kate.”
“What? Why?” Eve asked.
“Because. We. Just. Did. Okay?” Jesse said in short staccato bursts. He let go of the tablecloth, scooted his chair away from the table, and got ready to stand.
Eve motioned him to stay seated. “No,” she said, “I have it working for us. Working well, thank you. Yeah, he's a… But he's keeping me alive and fed. He's also left Kate alone, and safe, and she's learning from the doctor. We are both safe here.”
“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Jesse said. “You can't possibly mean given a choice you would want to stay here?”
Eve picked up a fork from the table and started tapping it.
“What happens when he tires of you?” he asked. “Or—”
“Or, what?”
“Or, you do not become pregnant with one of his—”
Eve recoiled. “No, that will not happen,” she said, shaking her head forcefully.
“You really so sure about that?”
“He—” She looked up to the left as if to refocus, then locked eyes with him. “If I don't…he won't…won't do that. You really should go. Leave while you can.”
“I'm not leaving without you and Kate.”
Eve stopped tapping her fork on the table. “Well, you just better go.”
Jesse didn't know what else to say.
Cory leaned over and whispered in his ear, “What now, hero?”
Jesse seethed. He wanted to hit something. Looking around, he rubbed the back of his neck. There were far too many people around. Most were watching him, watching Cory, and by extension, watching Eve. He had already shown them he was angry about something. To continue would only have them asking why.
Another of the pregnant women dressed in a blue smock arrived at the table, holding a steaming platter piled high with roasted meat. Another much younger pregnant girl approached and set a bowl of green leafy vegetables in front of them.
Jesse pushed his chair slightly closer to the table and set a napkin in his lap. Grunting, he reached for his wine, downed it, stretched for the pitcher, poured himself another, spilling liberally, and then downed that glass too. He prepared to slam the empty glass down on the table and then thought better and put it down slowly and wiped his mouth, making sure he thoroughly stained the white cloth napkin.
Eve shot him a baleful look. “Please…be careful. Don't go drawing attention to yourself. You don't know just how dangerous these people are.”
He let out a guttural growl, scooted himself closer the table, and grabbed a fork.
-33-
BURNING MAN
JESSE HAD HALF an hour to think about his situation, think about the huge mistake he had made coming after Eve, and think about how he could get closer to Kate and get her the hell out of there. He ran through umpteen different scenarios his head. None of them clicked, so he shifted his thoughts to the past, having David to also consider. Where had he seen that scar-faced guy before? He'd been many places and seen many terrible things, but he just couldn't connect the man with any of them.
Three others wearing gold armbands had joined him at the table two minutes after Cyrus left. Jesse had ignored them while he ate, but their presence made any chance at private conversation with Eve impossible. He was able to exchange pleasantries with her, and she went on to tell him about the installation under the mountain. How everyone had been kept safe during the winter. How Cyrus had immediately started rebuilding when springtime returned. But he’d learned little else. Though, she often paused as if she had to edit out certain details. Frequently, she glanced at the three men sitting at the table, even stopping once to ask one of them what he thought about living inside the mountain during the winter. The man answered with a grunt and then added a rib-poke at his partner followed by a shared chuckle.
Jesse didn't buy the rebuilding crap for a second. All Cyrus had accomplished was a consolidation of his power. He would sire all the children and now controlled access to what was important to all: safety, food, medicine, and entertainment. The entire situation was in many ways every politician's wet dream. Eve confirmed all of this, though her words had been filled with glowing praise for the man. Dislodging him from the top of the food chain would be damn near impossible, if he went about it directly. So, the only real hope was to find a way to get the hell out of Dodge, and do so soon. He needed to get in tight with them, show them he was willing to be part of their community and could add value.
Then they would let him come and go as he pleased.
But that left Cory. What could he do about him? He'd promised to help and there was no way Cory would stick around given half a chance to escape. He'd have to convince him that sticking around to gain a little confidence was the best course of action. Cory's attitude and unpredictability would present another problem. He'd need to keep a close watch on that.
A large beast of a man arrived at the table. He had a gold armband with a red stripe that he wore around his right bicep. Jesse had heard the guy's name was Ryder, like the trucks. Others at the table stiffened as the man rapped on the surface with his knuckles and indicated he wanted Jesse and Cory to come with him.
When Eve did not get up from her spot, Ryder added, “You too, darling. He's got something special planned for you all.”
Jesse felt the effects of the alcohol and a big meal weighing him down, sapping his strength, and making him sluggish. But he followed willingly where Ryder led with Cory and Eve close behind, walking next to each other. They all threaded through steel-sided warehouse buildings, down neatly swept asphalt alleys, and finally up a ramp that terminated at the observation platform overlooking the arena. The same platform Cyrus had addressed them from earlier.
Cyrus was there already, along with David. Jesse watched David for a moment as he came closer, trying to picture him without the scar as he might have looked at one point in the past. Recognition remained frustratingly elusive.
Fresh torches burned along the rim of the arena, throwing up long tails of greasy black smoke. The air smelled of burning diesel. Men returning from the festivities noisily climbed and spread out to encircle the arena as they had hours ago. Their shadow fell on the silvery slab of asphalt below, where the arena floor had been cleared of bodies, leaving behind nothing but blackened stains to indicate where many had died, both men and raptors. In the center of the arena was a small stage. It had not been there earlier. On the stage stood a solitary man with his hands bound behind his back.
It was the same man who had fled the arena in panic.
Jesse's first impression of the man had been sour. The guy was a degenerate asshole. He had heard him named and had somehow remembered it despite meeting scores of others. Apparently, the guy had made a strong impression.
The guy's name was Zeb.
A length of half-inch rope ran from a wooden post in the center of the stage to a spot behind Zeb and tethered him to the post. Twenty feet in front of him was a blue vinyl children's pool adorned with cartoon images of dolphins and mermaids. The pool was filled with water. It took a second, but Jesse was able to figure out what was about to happen. He glanced at David, instantly recognizing that the scar-faced man had been through the same ordeal and survived. Maybe Zeb would too. Though, David struck him as someone made of stronger stuff. Zeb, on the other hand, didn't exactly instill confidence he could do much more than swear and bitch. No matter what, Jesse did not want to take part in watching a man die, or be tortured, punished, or whatever. But as he looked arou
nd, he was in the extreme minority, a minority size of one, him.
Cyrus made sure everyone close by was seated. He picked up a megaphone and stepped to the front edge of the platform.
“Good morning!” he said into the microphone. His amplified voice echoed from the far wall of the arena.
The audience babbled excitedly.
“What we were all privileged enough to see hours ago was an act of magnificent bravery tainted by a single act of cowardice. These two,” he said, indicating Jesse and Cory, “did the impossible. They stood with honor and courage against a horde that wiped out lesser men. They overcame the odds. They won the night!”
Cheers went up, but there were a few scattered boos.
“We are deeply humbled by their accomplishment. They have demonstrated to us what is possible when great men work together.”
Muttering ran through the audience along with a few more cheers. When the noise stilled, Cyrus raised the megaphone to speak again.
He waited a beat. “But, the courage of these two brave souls was soiled by the cowardice of another.”
Some in the crowd protested. Some booed. Others just murmured.
“Yes, yes, we were all shamed by the action of a single man. A single act of selfishness and cowardice that stunned me, and I would hope stunned you, too. He brought shame to his brothers who fought and died. He betrayed them. He killed the man brave enough to lead them. Mr. Jackson was a great man, a good brother to us all. He will be missed.”
Cyrus bowed his head. The crowd grew silent for a moment. Zeb waited, standing with his head also slumped against his chest, but likely for a different reason.
“Sadly,” Cyrus continued, “this coward has shamed us. But we are forgiving of our brother's sins against us, especially when we are so few and the raptors are so many. Are we not?”
Cries and curses turned to cheers.
“So, I say we give him a second chance to prove himself worthy to live among us. We can all find forgiveness if our courage is strong enough to accept it.”
Jesse had heard what was said, but the rumble of voices was loud enough he was certain the hundreds lining the arena had not. They were waiting to see a man die.
Red Asphalt: Raptor Apocalypse Book 2 Page 27