by Jill Cooper
The room was a time capsule of what life might have been like, before fire-breathing dragons were even a consideration outside of a fantasy novel. Now in that room, a heated discussion brewed between Jake and Chase. Jake was tense, had been tense for weeks, leading up to the day’s events.
He tugged on his hair while he listened to Chase protest. The guy was young and sometimes he leaped before thinking. Maybe that’s why he reminded Dirk so much of himself. At least now, he was calm, with wide, sincere eyes. His hand gestures were fast, but not frantic, he was in control in a way Jake wasn’t.
Jake grabbed the back of a chair and Dirk saw his hands shake. He didn’t know if it was hunger, withdrawal from the lack of blood he had to drink, or something else.
“Guys,” Dirk rapped his knuckles on the inside of the door and stepped inside. Jeff didn’t follow, but waited at the entryway. Tense conversations weren’t exactly his strong suit. He was a nervous glistening who went through more upset stomach medicine, than he did food.
Both sets of eyes were on him.
“What’s going on here? One at a time, okay?”
Jake face flooded with relief. The boy was supposed to be their leader, but he was falling to the back more frequently. More people were looking to Dirk to make the tough decisions. It scared Dirk before, but now he realized, even Jake was looking to him. And if that was the case . . . how could Jake ever lead the glistenings in rebellion against Victor?
“Timothy passed away this morning.” Jake’s shoulders crumbled into his small frame.
“I’m sorry for that.” Dirk squeezed his arm to show support, but he was surprised at how small Jake’s arm was. Sure, they were all a little thinner, gaunter, but Jake’s arm was thin as a rail. Whatever was going on, Dirk didn’t have time to ask him about it now.
But he had to make time, and soon. If they lost Jake . . .
“I’m sorry for that too,” Chase said, his blue eyes wide. “More sorry than you can know, but there’s been a commotion, Dirk. The kids are healing and now they’re talking.”
Dirk licked his lips. “What are they saying?”
“Rebecca’s been with us since the beginning,” Jake interrupted, his hands on his hips. “I know she’s not exactly trustworthy, but she got me and Wendy out of New Haven. She went about it wrong, but I don’t think she’d want to hurt anyone. She made mistakes, but to point fingers at her without proof—.”
“We’re getting the proof,” Chase said sharply, with a narrow point to his eyes.
Dirk held up his hands. “What are we saying?”
Chase tensed his jaw and stiffened with a deep breath. “She gave all the kids water except for Timothy, even when he asked for it. He was the only one that died. I think she had an antidote for whatever was wrong with the kids. I think she got them sick in the first place.”
Jake moved to argue, but Dirk held up his hand, developing a deep scowl. “Why?”
Chase shrugged. “To keep us pinned down. To make it so we can’t move.”
“Why would she do that? What could she possibly hope to gain, Chase?” Dirk asked.
Chase sighed and shifted with impatience. “Look, man, I don’t know. All I know, is I don’t trust her. You don’t trust her. No one here trusts her, but she’s important to the group. We just take her word on things just because, what, she was there when things fell apart?” Chase shook his head and held his breath. His cheeks reddened to a deep tomato color. “No more. I’m not going to do it anymore.”
“What’d you do, Chase?” Dirk’s voice fell hushed with quiet anger.
“We’re searching her quarters. I swear, Dirk, I swear I heard her talking to someone when she was coming out of the deep halls. She was alone, but I heard something. She didn’t want me to get too close.”
“You can’t just search her room.” Jake’s face flushed. “She’s one of the leaders here. Other people look to her. We can’t just—.”
“Who’d you send?” Dirk asked. His eyebrows furrowed together deeper.
“Melissa.” Chase took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Dammit!” Dirk’s emotions bubbled to the surface—rage, anger that Chase would put her in danger like that. Melissa was a journalist, neither a fighter nor an officer. Dirk looked after her since the glistening rebellion and if she got hurt now—pulling the door open to charge in after her, Chase stopped Dirk, grabbing his wrist.
“She can do good work. Stop protecting her all the time. She’s not—.”
Not Jenna? Is that what he was about to say? Dirk pulled his arm back to nail him in a punch, but he stopped short. “We’ve all lost someone we want to protect.” Instead, he just pushed Chase back and went out into the hall. He wasn’t sure if he bought Chase’s theory about what happened, but if Chase was right on some wing and a prayer—If Chase was right, a person that would let a child die in cold blood to cover their tracks would do anything.
And that would put Melissa Chang in a lot of danger, a lot of trouble.
Dirk just hoped Melissa could get in and out without Rebecca spotting her. He ran up a metal staircase, his footsteps echoed and drew attention from those gathered on the main floor. On the second level, he rounded the hallway toward the quarters that were used for sleeping and knocked on Rebecca’s private door.
“Rebecca?” Dirk waited a mere moment before pushing the door open with his foot and peered inside.
The first thing he saw were smudges of blood on the doorframe.
Pressing his lips together to stay in control, to ignore the pounding of his heart, Dirk pushed the door open further, his heart galloping in his throat. The door stopped short when it slammed into something.
Dirk turned sideways and stepped inside. To do so, he had to step over a bloody hand—the hand of Melissa Chang—her finger curled slightly against the open air, as if she died with something in her hand.
Her mouth had fallen open and a gaping wound in her neck spilled blood onto the cool metal floor. Melissa’s eyes wide, but hollow, staring straight through Dirk, reprimanding him for not protecting her.
For letting all of this happen.
Melissa wouldn’t think such a thing, but Dirk shook with rage. He pulled the gun from behind the waistband of his jeans. A slight tremor in his hand, he quelled it by squeezing his fingers around his pistol.
Behind him came a rush of footsteps. Dirk tried to edge the door closed to hide the scene, but it was too late. Jake gasped when he saw Melissa’s fallen body. “I can’t believe . . . I’m sorry, Dirk.”
Deciding to ignore Jake’s grief came easy. “She’s on the run. We have to find her before she leaves through the access point and leads the glistenings straight to us.” Dirk said the words and tried to avoid Chase’s gaze. He wasn’t ready for the talk. He wanted to direct his anger toward Rebecca, not his misguided friend.
“You’re with me, Jake. Chase, cover the body, and wait for us to get back. Don’t let anyone else into this room.” Dirk tried to push past him, but the barrel chested man was just too big to side step.
“She wanted to help,” Chase said simply. “She wanted to be part of the team.”
“She was.”
Chase’s lips turned down. “Don’t shut me out. I want to help. That bitch killed Melissa to save herself and—.”
Dirk knew how he felt, but didn’t have time to indulge Chase by listening to him rant this time. Rebecca was getting away. “Help by staying here, and not letting others see Melissa the way we just did. Search her room. See what you can come up with. We’re going to need all the evidence we can get to make Rebecca talk when I drag her back here.”
Dirk pushed past Chase and Jake was at his side, taking wide steps to keep up. “Here I thought you were going to kill her.”
“I can’t say I didn’t think about it, but Rebecca’s more valuable to us alive for now. We need to know what she was up to and why. Know how we can use it to our advantage.”
Jake nodded. “I’m with you.”
Dirk
at least knew that. But a leader? Jake wasn’t one yet when they needed one the most. Guess Dirk was going to have to take on that role for himself, no matter how much he didn’t want it.
It was better than being dead.
*****
Rebecca didn’t want to kill Melissa. Hadn’t even meant to, but when she saw the former investigator holding her satellite phone; Rebecca knew her cover was blown. She snapped and attacked without thinking. Now thanks to her brilliant move, Dirk would be out to seek vengeance and he’d come straight for Rebecca.
There was definitely no love lost between them and with how she’d been playing him; Rebecca could only run.
She hid inside the old pantry not far from the sleeping quarters, but it was only a matter of time before they found Melissa. They’d start an all-out search for her. Rebecca had to find a way to reach the main access point without being caught. It wasn’t guarded, but there were a few dozen people between her and her escape.
With a shaking breath, Rebecca opened the door a hair’s width, so she could peer outside. Across the way, she heard the sound of boots meeting the metal ladder, leading down, into the base level.
Someone was coming.
Rebecca ran behind a rack of steel shelves used as a pantry. There were stacks of non-perishable canned goods, tomatoes, beans, bags of rice, and large containers of oatmeal. Everything they had been living off, since they had hidden here. How fitting, that now Rebecca squatted behind them in an effort to hide.
She squeezed her eyes shut as the door opened. Footsteps shuffled toward her. Rebecca ducked down even lower and her fingers trembled against the floor. She had no weapons, so there wasn’t anything she could do other than cower and hope to not be caught.
“What are you doing?”
Her stomach sank at the sound of the sweet voice. Rebecca glanced up at nineteen-year-old, Ginny. She wore shorts and her hair was up in pigtail braids. Just yesterday, she was struggling for her life and now she was healthy, all thanks to Rebecca.
Course, she was infected thanks to her, too.
“I dropped my contacts.” She cringed at her excuse. She was a United States senator for Pete’s sake. Surely, she could come up with something better than that.
“Do you want me to help you?”
“No.” Rebecca smiled to reassure her. “I’ll be fine. Just go about your business.”
Ginny twisted on her heels. “Should I send someone—?”
Rebecca shook her head. “No, don’t do that.” Her voice strained, more desperate than she intended. “I’ll rejoin the group soon. Okay?”
Ginny nodded and her pigtails bobbed up and down. “We’re moving soon. I can’t wait to leave this place.” She hefted up a bag of rice.
With a sigh of relief, Rebecca leaned against the wire frame as the door swung shut behind Ginny. Thank goodness for small miracles.
Rebecca went to the door. It was time to move.
Time to make her way to the armory and then make a break for her freedom. Rebecca just prayed that once she made it to the surface, that the glistenings wouldn’t tear her apart, limb-by-limb.
****
“So far there’s no sign of her at the entry point,” Jeff said as he caught up with Dirk and Jake. They were headed toward the mess.
Dirk checked every nook and cranny of the place. Rebecca was smart and had a strong self-preservation mode. She had to be here somewhere.
“No one I’ve asked has seen her, either,” Jake said. “It’s like Rebecca just disappeared.”
Ginny, the young woman with a giant bag of rice balanced over her shoulder, stopped at the entryway to the kitchen and turned around. “I saw her in the pantry. She was looking for her contact lenses.”
Contact lenses? Jake and Dirk exchanged incredulous glances.
Ginny shrugged with a scrunch of her nose. “Seemed weird to me too, but why would she lie?”
That was the million-dollar question. “Did you see which way she was headed?” Dirk tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice, but his words clipped sharply at the air.
Ginny shook her head. “No, but I can go back and ask if you want me to.”
Dirk smiled. “That’s fine, Ginny. You go inside and help start the dinner prep. We’ll handle it.” A sweet girl like that always wanted to help and Dirk wanted her as far away from this as possible. In New York, she had been through enough. Lucky for her, she met Chase, and together they managed until they met up with the resistance.
They continued their walk. “Should we sound the alarm?” Jeff asked.
“No,” Dirk said. “She’ll just panic and do something we’ll all regret. We should split up. Jeff and Jake, you guys head to the access point. I’m going to loop around, pass the armory, and then meet you there. Stay off channel two in case she’s listening.”
Dirk adjusted his radio and watched the other two do the same.
“Good luck,” Jake said and they sprinted off in separate directions.
****
Rebecca slinked into the armory. Throwing a glance behind her, she closed the door and stepped into the shrouded darkness.
The room was lined with cabinets, well stocked with P90’s, MP4’s, and a few packages of C4. Most of which, Rebecca wasn’t sure how to use. Weapons intimidated her, so she picked up a handgun—a Glock 9 mm—, and she only knew that, because that’s what the label said on the box.
Going through boxes of ammunition was trickier. When Rebecca loaded the Glock, her fingers shook and she tried to swallow her nerves. Her heart pounded so fast, thinking seemed impossible. Rebecca didn’t know what she was thinking. Just holding the gun reminded her how out of her depth she was. Weapons were cold. She preferred politics and the law, where words could be used against others if you knew how to twist them, use them to your advantage.
Here, words would get her nowhere. Even if she got out of the compound, how was she going to make it past the glistenings? She could try barter and trade for information, which she had in spades, but that was only if they didn’t eat her first and ask questions later.
So wound up, Rebecca missed someone stepping into the armory, but she was hidden behind a cabinet. “Rebecca?” came his voice.
It was Dirk, not some kid like Ginny Shannon, with her freckled face and pigtail braids. She’d never be able to pull the wool over his eyes, but Rebecca had to try.
Taking a deep breath, she stood from the shadow and trained her gun on Dirk. “Stop right there.”
“Or what?” Dirk demanded. “You’ll kill me like you killed Melissa?”
“I didn’t!” Rebecca’s eyes grew wide. She couldn’t tell him the truth, but a lie? She didn’t know if he’d buy one of those, either. “I found her like that and I knew how it’d look, so I ran. Have you questioned everyone else, because it wasn’t me!”
“It was you.” Dirk took a slow step forward. “She was one of us; a friend. You want to explain yourself or do I—.”
“Step back!” Rebecca waved her gun. “Step back or I swear I will shoot!”
But her hand shook with the quiver of an old woman. The Glock wavered side to side and Rebecca didn’t even know if she could hold it and manage to pull the trigger.
Dirk didn’t believe it either; from the step that he took. “I think we both know you’re not going to do that.”
“I will.” Rebecca’s eyes spilled tears onto her cheeks. “Dirk, please, you have to help me. Make the others understand that it wasn’t me.”
He didn’t address her pleas of innocence. “Then we’re going to do this nice and slow. No one is going to hurt you, Rebecca. I promise.”
She nodded and blubbered some answer that didn’t even make sense to her, but it didn’t matter. Already, Dirk’s hand covered the gun and he pushed it down. When he told Rebecca to hand it over, she didn’t even fight him.
What was the point?
It was over. Her life’s mission was gone.
****
“What’d you do, Rebecca?” Dirk
threw her black bag down onto the table. It held all of her secrets. All of her diaries, all of her personal things, had been rifled through. Then, there were the confessions and plans? It made Dirk sick just to be in the same room with her.
But her face barely twitched.
Hunched over in her chair with her hands tied beneath the seat, Dirk knew her shoulders had to be screaming in pain already. A woman like her wouldn’t last long under direct questioning.
Jake shifted from one foot to the other, his arms folded across his chest. “Maybe try asking her something else, Dirk.” He barely glanced at him while he shifted from one foot to another.
Uncomfortable? Dirk barely scratched the surface of what he could do.
Chase handed Dirk two empty vials. They were unmarked. Dirk turned them over in his hand. “What’s this?” he demanded.
Rebecca stuttered, but she didn’t say any words. Her shallow eyes stared off along the wall.
Dirk slammed the vials down on the table. “Who are you aligned with? Glistenings?”
“No!” Rebecca’s voice screeched and at least that was something. At least that was progress.
“Then who? We found the satellite phone. We know you’re in contact with someone. Taking orders? If it’s not Victor then who the hell, is it?” Dirk leaned down to stare her straight in the eye and he didn’t like what he saw. She was a whiny, weasel of a coward—someone in for herself.
Melissa was a fighter, a giver, and now she was dead while the weasel lived.
“I’d never work with him.” Rebecca shook her head. “How could you even—?”
Jake interrupted her this time. “How could we not, Rebecca? You killed Melissa. Maybe even Timothy. And don’t you blame it on the dead.” Jake’s chest puffed out and his voice shook with anger. Dirk had to hand it to him; he didn’t think the kid had it in him anymore, not since Liz left.
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca whispered. “I didn’t mean to . . . you’re right, Jake. But, if I could just explain . . .” her eyes turned away from Jake’s like a hand over hot coals on a summer day.