Reign: Populations Crumble, Book 3

by K. A. Gandy

  “I fail to see how any of this is good news! We expended an enormous amount of Resistance resources, and you’re telling me it was for nothing?” Helena snaps again, and several people jolt in their seats.

  Patrick’s eyes narrow at her outburst. “I wouldn’t call four women and their unborn children nothing, but no, that’s not what I’m telling you. Despite your faulty device, Glitch is capable of fixing the camera and retrieving the footage from the rebuilt storage inside.”

  “Get out, all of you. Leave us.” Helena waves her hand, and the five of us slowly rise, and head towards the door.

  “Not just them, ALL OF YOU, move!” She shoos her own people out the door behind us. I look back once, and see the room empty except for her and Brock, in the middle of a livid exchange, while he gestures angrily at her.

  Troubled Waters

  Two days later, the temperature has dropped another ten degrees as the December chill really takes hold. I’m standing at the kitchen sink, hand washing dishes out of boredom, and watching Halle’s twins play a one-on-one game of soccer out the kitchen window. Delia does some fancy footwork, zips around Daniel, and shoots a goal into their makeshift net. Goal. Is the net also called a goal in soccer? I’ll have to ask Patrick when he comes back inside.

  A soft tap nearby startles me from my musings, and turning towards the sound, Pierce gives me a small wave from our tiny foyer, standing next to a sleep-mussed Nell. I wave, and he gives me a smile, but it looks off. Not the vibrant Pierce I remember from Georada, with his movie-star flair and his twinkling green eyes.

  “I’m going to make coffee,” Nell announces grouchily, making a beeline towards the kitchen I just vacated.

  “Hey Pierce, is everything okay?” I search his face for hints of trouble, but find nothing obvious there.

  He rocks back on his heels, hands in his pockets. “No, it’s really not. And there’s nobody I can talk to about it, around here. You were always such a good listener, before . . . I thought, maybe, you wouldn’t mind taking a walk with me, for old time’s sake?”

  His uncertainty clenches my heart like a fist. “Of course, Pierce. Let me grab a jacket.”

  I poke my head out back to let Patrick know I’m going out for a few minutes, and then Pierce helps me slip my arms into the sleeves of my puffiest coat. The Pacific sea air is no joke in winter, even with a buffer distance, like we have here.

  We walk for a while in companionable silence, and I keep my hands tucked into my pockets to stay warm. He’s sharply dressed in a gray wool coat, and with the wind in his hair, he looks like a gentleman from an old-timey movie.

  “So, what do you think of our little city?” he finally asks.

  “Well, it’s nothing like I expected, though frankly I didn’t know what to expect.”

  He chuckles. “How so?”

  How to say it, without sounding so biased? “Everyone’s pretty happy here. There are more kids playing in the street than I’ve ever seen, which is amazing. Everyone shares the community resources, most everyone is working towards a common goal. There are still issues amongst the families, and Helena . . . well, is Helena. Overall, though, it still feels like a home here.”

  His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “It sounds like you actually like it here.”

  I bobble my head back and forth in indecision. “Yes and no. I’ll always miss Jackson Flats, and my family. And my horse—oh man do I miss my sweet Morgan.” I pause, choking up a little. “But, I can see why you didn’t want to give this place up, honestly. You have the freedom to make your own rules, live your own happiness. At times, I admit, it’s crossed my mind that life would be simpler if the four of us just stayed here, under the radar.” Guilt floods me at the admission, and I look at him out of the corner of my eye to gauge his reaction.

  “If only we could go back in time, and make different choices.” His wistful words nearly knock me off my feet. Is he saying what I think he’s saying . . . ?

  “What’s going on, Pierce?” I don’t want to pry, but something’s bothering him, or we wouldn’t be breathing clouds into the freezing air so he could get it off his chest.

  He breathes out through his nose. “Helena’s changed. Half the time, she talks and I don’t recognize the words coming out of her mouth. The new partner she’s accepted, Reave—he’s a cold, calculating man. The Helena I met would have never looked at him twice, let alone—” He clears his throat. “I’m just not sure if we’re still compatible, after all this time. But if I leave, it’s going to cause an uproar. No one has ever left her, and I might be made a pariah.”

  My stomach knots for him, and I don’t have a good answer, only compassion. I reach out and rub his shoulder for a moment in solidarity.

  “What do I do, Sadie? You’ve been through so much, it’s deplorable of me to put more on your shoulders. But, you’re truly the only person I can ask. Pathetic, isn’t it? I wish I’d chosen differently, back then.”

  Wow, I’m not even sure how to address that.

  “Never pathetic, Pierce, but I’m sorry you feel that way.” I think it over for a few minutes as we continue our walk, and we’ve made it further towards the edge of town than I’ve seen in our time here, twisting and turning down deserted side streets. “Are you sure it’s irreconcilable, between you and Helena? I can tell you really care for her, or you wouldn’t be so torn up about it.”

  He stares into the distance, past the buildings and the scrub and the hills. “She used to chase freedom. All of this . . . all of this she scraped together from nothing so that people could be free to live as they chose. It’s grown and evolved, sure, but the mission was simple: live free, or die trying. Now, something’s different. Instead of freedom, she’s chasing power. It’s changed her. She’s no longer the woman I fell for.”

  My bones chill at his words, confirming something I’ve suspected since the first time I met Helena in that air transport she’d abducted us with. Her talk of freedom hides an uglier truth. “Then I think you already know the answer, Pierce. You can’t stay with someone you no longer trust and respect, just for fear of others’ opinions.”

  “I think I already knew that,” he says quietly, barely audible even over the sounds of our feet on the road. We take another turn and end up at the other side of the open gathering area, finally somewhere I recognize.

  “What about you, Sadie? Do you think you might be changing your mind about our poly way of life, here? If you’re ready to start looking for husband number two, I’d volunteer in a heartbeat.” He gives me a cocky grin, and I smack him on the shoulder.

  “No, sorry. And you already know that, Pierce. Patrick is it for me.”

  He chuckles. “Well, can’t blame a man for trying. It’s my own fault for letting you go when I still had a shot.” He says it with a-good natured tone, and I can tell he’s not upset with me for turning down his half-serious proposal.

  We walk through the grassy area, meandering in silence. Eventually we end up under a large tree, and the familiar green-and-orange leaves of the magnolia remind me of home. It’s out of place here, just like I am, and it brings me a moment of comfort.

  “So, enough about me. How are things with you and Patrick? Are you happy?” His tone is decidedly neutral.

  “We are, actually. We’ve had our ups and downs, for sure. But, we’re happy. I’m . . . I’m pregnant, actually.” I don’t know why I tell him, but it feels right.

  His face pales, not the reaction I was expecting. “Sadie, that’s amazing, but, please, you cannot go around telling people. Have you told anyone else? God, does Helena know?”

  Taken aback, I answer, “No. No, I haven’t told anyone except Patrick, Atlas, and Nell. I mean, and you, now. But, why are you freaking out right now?”

  He rubs his jaw with the heel of his hand, looking stricken. “You’d be a much more valuable target in Helena’s eyes, if she knew. Please, please don’t tell anyone else. You shouldn't have told me.”

  I don’t know what I was exp
ecting when the words slipped out of my mouth, but this wasn’t it. “I don’t know what to say, Pierce, except that I trust you. If you think it’s unsafe to tell Helena, I trust that you won’t.”

  “You’re an incredible human, Sadie. Not just your genes, but your kindness, your capability to love others. It would kill me if Helena hurt you. If anyone hurt you.” He reaches over and slowly takes my hand. “Congratulations, to you and Patrick. I wish I was half so lucky.” The pain in his eyes as he looks away pierces my heart.

  “Pierce, why are you so worried about Helena finding out? I don’t have any plans to tell her, but even so, what’s the big deal? There are several pregnant women here, I saw the list the second day here. Pregnancy shouldn’t have anything to do with me being a target. I shouldn’t be a target at all, not to our allies.” Supposed allies.

  He meets my eyes warily. “I told you, Sadie. She’s changed. You’re a polymorph. I’m sure it’s crossed her mind that you could advance her genetic testing program. She’s nearing forty, and never been able to conceive. It’s still possible for her, but she’s trying more and more drastic measures to make it happen. A polymorph is already a white whale, but a pregnant polymorph might tempt her to cross the line. Not to mention that your child, especially if it’s a girl, could be a major target if word gets out of your unique DNA.”

  With each word he speaks, worry seeps in a little further, and the urge to run builds under my skin like an itch I can’t scratch. Will we truly ever be safe anywhere? My breaths come faster and faster, and I bolt to my feet.

  “Sadie, wait!”

  “I have to go.”

  “Please, Sadie, I won’t say anything, I swear!”

  “I know, I just have to go. Good-bye, Pierce.” I turn and leave him there, sitting in the cold under a lone magnolia in a field of maples.

  ✽✽✽

  I burst through the door to our house, nose and cheeks numb from the cold outside.

  “Shoot!” Nell sloshes her cup of coffee in surprise from her position on the couch. “Sadie, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing! I just want to be alone for a while!”

  I shut the door behind myself and crumple onto the bed, my jacket and boots still on. Staring at the ceiling, I hear the couch springs creak, and her footsteps pad across to the sliding glass door. Muffled words filter through, and then her steps approach the bedroom door.

  “Patrick got called away by Glitch. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to me? I’m a pretty good listener. I might recommend that you have your husband punch Pierce, but I’m not you, so . . . I promise not to judge.” She slurps her coffee, and a smile cracks the façade of my shock and fear.

  “Thank you, Nell, but I think I’m just going to warm up in the shower. It’s too cold here.” I heave myself off the bed and feel a twinge in my abdomen. Worry pricks at my mind as I lay my hand across my still-flat belly. I hope I didn’t jostle something in there running back. Oh no, what if something’s wrong? I really need to get to a doctor soon.

  With a whole new host of competing worries, I climb into the shower and allow the steaming water to ease the tingling cold from my limbs.

  ✽✽✽

  I exit the bathroom to find Patrick once again, but this time he’s not waiting for me at the edge of the bed—he’s packing a bag.

  “Patrick, what’s going on?”

  “I finally received a location to meet my dad, and we’ve got to get going.” He continues tossing things into the bag as he talks, so we must be on a tight timeline.

  I hustle to the dresser and drag clothes on right over my damp hair. “Where do we have to meet him?”

  “Northern Manisas. It’s close enough to Wrightsville that he won’t draw attention traveling there and back, but not close enough to be swarmed by political influences. All things considered, it’s a sound choice on his part. It just means we have to leave immediately.”

  “Okay, fair enough. When are we meeting?”

  “Mid-day tomorrow. We need to get there early for Atlas to scout and make sure we have a clear meeting area, and no one follows my dad.”

  Frowning at that unpleasant possibility, I grab up two days’ worth of clothes, and pass them to Patrick to shove into the duffel. “Should I be concerned about that? I know you trust him . . .”

  “One hundred percent. I know he would never sell me out, the concern is more about him being followed. Whoever is doing this won’t want to be caught out, and we know that. So, we just need to be prepared for as many outcomes as possible. Speaking of which, I think it would be best if you stayed in the security area with Nell and Atlas. I don’t like to be separated from you, but I’ll have an earpiece so you guys can hear everything, and I think there’s less likely to be interference that way.”

  “Really? Why? You’re the prince.”

  He pauses stuffing the bag with knives for a moment and taps me gently on the end of the nose. “And you’re the polymorph.”

  I shake my head at his goofiness even under pressure. “We are quite a pair.”

  “That we are. A great pair if I do say so myself.” He zips the bag, slings it over his shoulder, and extends his arm to me, as if he’s a knight and I’m an elegant lady in the fourteen hundreds, not a modern woman in rumpled black fatigues. So, obviously, I accept.

  As he closes the bedroom door behind us, he asks, “Oh, how was your walk with Pierce? Everything okay on that front?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ll tell you later.”

  “Sounds good.” He kisses me softly on the temple, yells towards Atlas and Nell’s room, “We’re ready, guys—we’ll meet you at the truck!” and leads me out the front door.

  I bury my worries about what Pierce shared for later, when we’re not putting out fires with Patrick’s father. I need to focus on him right now.

  Impact

  The flight to Manisas was highly boring. Mav is an excellent pilot and, other than the occasional sarcastic commentary over the plane’s speakers, she gets us there in a hurry and without incident. Patrick conked out almost as soon as the small plane hit altitude, and I tossed and turned the entire time, restless thoughts souring my chances at a good night’s sleep. I couldn’t bring myself to dump my latest problems on Patrick’s shoulders right before the pivotal meeting with his dad, so I kept them to myself. There will be time later to tell him once this was out of the way. Maybe on the flight home.

  Right now, I’m sitting in a folding chair in an empty warehouse catty-corner to Patrick’s meeting location with his dad. Atlas has the place wired for sound, and Glitch has set up a portable security monitoring station, so Patrick and his father are covered from every angle. Atlas is currently set up on top of the warehouse next to ours with a sniper rifle and a good view through a large plate-glass window into the chosen building, just in case.

  The fact that he feels that’s necessary makes me itch. I shift in my seat for the hundredth time in the last half hour, my gritty, sleepless eyes glued to the screen.

  “Hold still or I’m going to chop your legs off,” Nell grouses, sipping a cup of coffee in the folding chair next to mine.

  “I’d listen, Sadie. She threatened to break my tablet yesterday, and she meant it.”

  “Of course, I meant it, what good is a threat if you don’t mean it?” She snorts.

  “So, you’re going to chop off my legs, and all he gets is a broken tablet?”

  “Well, he cares more about his tablet than his legs, so it seemed appropriate.”

  Glitch rapid-fire clicks on different security camera views and scans them one after the other, never looking our way as he answers, “She’s right, I do. I built it myself.”

  I just shake my head and scooch down in the chair until my braid dangles over the back. The position tugs sharply on some of the strands underneath, but I don’t care. I keep my eyes trained on Patrick’s stern face. I can see the hope in his eyes, and it’s killing me on the inside. What if his father is guilty, after all? Patrick won’t recover fr
om that sort of blow.

  Another hour of waiting passes, and I’m about ready to scream when, finally, there’s motion on one of the longer-distance cameras. A sleek silver vehicle pulls up, hovering over the ill-maintained roads at top speeds as it flickers through our field of vision.

  “It's time, that’s a royal transport from the king’s personal fleet.”

  Leaning forward in my chair, I rub my sandy eyes with the heel of my hand and follow the car’s progress as it pulls to a stop right outside the building where Patrick waits. A rear door opens automatically, and I see a more mature version of Patrick climb from the vehicle. His hair is a bit longer, and his crisp suit is something Patrick wouldn’t be caught dead in, but the resemblance between the two of them is uncanny. King Royce straightens the cuffs on his jacket, and then strides toward the door of the building with purpose.

  He pulls it open, and stands stock still, scanning the building until he spots Patrick, and his shoulders immediately droop with relief. Making all haste, he crosses the room, and my eyes tear up as he throws his arms around his son and wraps him in an enthusiastic hug.

  “Patrick, it’s so good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Dad.” Patrick returns the hug just as fiercely and closes his eyes for a brief moment.

  They both straighten, and his father looks him up and down. “I don’t like the look of this, son. Those look like Resistance fatigues. What the devil is going on? Did they kidnap you? Your bride?” He cuts straight to the point.

  “Yes and no.”

  The king’s face turns red with anger. “Those rotten scum! I’m of a good mind to wipe them off the map. The audacity!” He turns to pace, and I see where Patrick got the habit.

  “Let me explain. There’s so much more at play here,” Patrick says calmly, and his father turns back to face him.