Advancing ((Advance Industries #2))

by K A Duggsy

  I hear someone say, “He’s doing it again.” And I snap my attention back to the team. They’re waiting for direction, staring at me like I’m having a breakdown.

  “Doing what?” I ask

  “Zoning out! Are you ready or are we gonna stand here all day?” Jonah snaps making sure I know he’s unimpressed with where my heads at and how I look to the team I’ve just got back on side.

  “Let’s go!” I answer and signal with my index finger in a circular motion mid-air.

  “We need to arm ourselves,” he says as if I need reminding.

  “I know,” I say hoping the warning in my voice is clear. I’m not completely fucking stupid. I stare at him. “I checked the armoury here but it’s been cleaned out.”

  “I think we need to pay Charlotte a visit,” he says smirking.

  My face falls, he’s right. She helped us last time we were here but fuck if I want to cross paths with her again. Miss Bennett is a face I wasn’t counting on revisiting. We need phasers though and she’s a safe bet, well not quite safe but she’s dealt with us before. Damn, if I can find a way around that I definitely will.

  Faith

  I’ve made it to the Zones; my Comm allowed me entry via the iron gates much to my surprise. I thought that after travelling maybe the tech would be fried or unrecognisable to the system, even though Kye has no problems travelling and using his original Comm. I expected with my luck to be defeated before I even started.

  The Zones are quiet and though I’m unsure about walking through them I think calling an over-rider would call more attention. I don’t know what time curfew is and my heart starts pounding over being caught outside past it.

  Night time starts crawling over the sky, the beams of sunlight being snuffed out by its nemesis. I keep my head down, my hands in Trask’s jacket pockets and try to appear as inconspicuous as possible. I really don’t know if this is a good idea but it’s the only one I have. My feet walk me forward of their own accord. I couldn’t stop and turn back if I wanted to. Besides, where would I go? I’m not exactly brimming with options.

  I reach my home, the fake house that never felt homely and now I know why. I haven’t been back here since I found out it isn’t mine, the photos of my parents aren’t really my parents. The decor never matched me because I never chose it. It was all a farce, my entire life. I step inside with a detachment verging on humiliation. How was I so blind, so easily led and convinced?

  The opulence I lived in is so far removed from how I grew up, how did I fall into living here so easily, without question? Why was I so naive? Sure I had niggles of doubt, certain things didn’t quite add up or feel right but I could never put my finger on it. How do you look for something that is so well hidden? Something that is easier to accept than to dig deeper into?

  I take the winding staircase up to the second floor and stand on the threshold of my old bedroom. I step across and the light filters on immediately, I don’t turn it off. My eyes are drawn to my bed. The huge inviting bed that’s calling my name. I feel drained, weary. I’ve never experienced fatigue like this, loneliness like this or doubt like this before. It’s a constant gnawing fear that I can’t shake. I sit on the bed and wrap my arms around myself, hugging myself because there’s no one else that can. I pushed them away. I chose this solitude, whether my reasons were right or not I started this, I brought it upon myself. A tear escapes and slips down my cheek. Loneliness. I miss Kye. I miss his strength. His fierce, unwavering love. I miss what we once had and long for what I’ll never have again.

  I fall back on the bed and let sleep take me. I let it take me under so deep that my consciousness isn’t able to think, isn’t able to hurt. I let it pull me further until everything is inconsequential.

  I wake up and suffer a few minutes of raging panic. I’m not like the team, I never got used to waking up in a new location and adjusting to it. Waking up here is like wading through a bad dream, the ones that seem so real you can never tell if it was a figment of imagination or if it really happened. The light is still on so I’m not scared by dancing illuminated shadows. My sanity comes back to me slowly; my heart resumes beating at its new half pace. My brain kicks into survival mode, all functions switch back to normal. I’m alone. I’m okay. I’m strong.

  I can do this.

  I walk over to my walk in wardrobe and flick past the way too may clothes stored in there. Racks, rails, drawers, shelves filled with clothes, shoes, accessories and items not needed. I pull down a bag and throw some tops and jeans in it. I’m preparing to never return here. I remember how long I was in the same clothes before when Kye abducted me and kept me for days before Advance Industries took over my capture. I never want to feel that dirty again. I might not know where I’m headed but wherever it is I’m taking extra everything. I bundle in some underwear and search for decent shoes. My wedges are pretty but if I have to kick arse, run or be on my feet walking for long periods I need something way more reliable, not to mention comfortable. No pain no gain can kiss my arse... where my feet are concerned anyway. My heart? Yeah it’s having itself kicked in that department. It was broken before I left him but now I don’t think it will ever have a chance to heal. I huff at my weakness, I need to stop thinking about him, need to stop letting his eyes and smile and body and laugh permeate my every waking moment. His touch, his lips, his... Arrgghhh my God. I feel sick again. Love sick? Is that really a thing? Are my thoughts nauseating me? When did I turn this feeble?

  I shake my head and concentrate on putting on a pair of socks and then some trainers. Small, mundane tasks. One thing at a time. I’m being swamped by that sickly feeling again and decide my next task should be food, my stomach is somehow rumbling and roiling at the same time like a tornado is forming in my stomach, a whirling, swirling vortex of discomfort bubbling away inside.

  I hold my hand over my mouth, the sensation of too much saliva threatening to spill from my lips not helping ease the turmoil.

  I stand up slowly waiting for the impending dizziness to take over at the slightest movement and smile when my fears are for nothing. I sling the drawstring bag over my shoulders and leave the room. I take the stairs again as the thought of going in the Eleview makes me queasy once more. I practically skip to the kitchen; my need to eat and make this empty feeling disappear is high. It’s my top priority. I can’t remember when I last ate but my body won’t be thwarted any longer.

  There’s no food here!

  Typical! I manage to find a few crackers and force them down my throat, they’re dry and hard to chew but I make myself consume them. I look at the time on my Comm and realise it’s early hours of the morning. The sky outside is now inky black as though an oil canvas has been stretched across it. I have to go now, curfew or not I have to investigate. I have to find a lead on my sisters and figure out what Advance Industries are up to by building their army.

  The cover of darkness is my best chance. I can be sneaky. I feel for the knife in my pocket. Still there. I’m ready... I think.

  Kye

  I’ve been railroaded. The team took a vote and we’ve been trekking through off grid for hours all to go and see her. Charlotte fucking Bennett. I’m sulking and plotting. I need to prepare myself for the manipulative woman I’m about to face off with. I’ve never met a woman like her and I never want to again. The team joke it’s because she’s the female version of me. An insult. We are nothing alike. Don’t get me wrong I have a grudging respect for her, for what she’s achieved in a male dominated world. She has a hardness about her that she’s had to maintain to succeed. She worked me over good and proper last time, made me prove myself before offering any assistance and I can’t be arsed jumping through hoops for her entertainment again. I have shit to do. I’m not an act to be offered up for amusement but to her that’s exactly what fresh blood is. She’s been surrounded by the same fighters for so long that new meat practically turns her on.

  I pleased her last time and my reward was the tent, furniture such as the camp
chairs, phasers, Comms and paper.

  Bargaining tools.

  Money is worth nothing to these people. They’ve managed with none for so long that they have their own currency, their own way of surviving, bartering and weapons are highly sought after.

  She’s ready for a war and merely giving away much-needed firearms isn’t an option. If you want Charlotte to help, you have to give her something in return, something she desperately needs.

  After all, fair is fair. Her tastes are somewhat singular, though. An alliance with her is good. Or so the men seem to believe. They weren’t her puppets, though; they weren’t the ones having their strings pulled. Oh no that is reserved for team leaders while the actual team are treated like royalty. Lavished with attention, affection, feasts and any necessities they need.

  I can feel the team’s excitement as a tangible mist in the air. If I stuck my tongue out, I’d taste their eagerness. I don’t know when this new voting system came into play but I’m ready to knock it on the head. I decide. I’m in charge. So how do I keep finding myself on the wrong end of a team vote?

  I don’t mind trekking for hours, in fact, I enjoy it. I love the training, the pull in my calves, the fresh air, being at one with nature and the elements. But what I hate is trekking for fucking hours knowing that at the end of it I have to fight and if I want what we need, ultimately I have to lose.

  Yeah, that’s right I have to take a beating for a rapt crowd. Something about retaining my humility, strengthening my character and remembering that I am weak, she likes to emphasize that fact. I am weak.

  She feeds off the degradation of watching men, men in power to be precise, brought to their knees, at her mercy. Knowing she has what we need, she’s a vengeful woman on a power trip. I think of her as the female version of Johnson Franks not the female version of me.

  We’re close to her ranks; I can smell it in the air. I can feel it in the tightening of my limbs. The staccato of my heart. Means to an end. Means to an end.

  Yeah, the end of my face.

  Faith

  This is what I’ve been reduced to. I’m lurking. Prowling around the shacks in the city. Listening for the slightest sound from within the thin walls. My eyes are peeled for training guards. It’s weird being out on the streets with no homeless littering them. It’s good obviously, but strange. It’s heart-warming to see no children curled against their parents on camp beds but also nerve wracking how quickly they were removed, separated and sent somewhere else. It’s been a week since Johnson was killed. There as yet is no President in his place so who is instigating all of this. These new rules, the army building? Is it Fraser? Preparing for when he is elected, imposing his wants on the city before he takes over? My need to know is eating me. Is that how quickly things can change? I guess so, it took a week of indifference from Kye for me to realise we’d changed, become detached. I thought we were impenetrable. I thought wrong. And there it is, my thoughts turned to him again. I need to switch them off, the dull ache in my chest won’t rest but at least I can focus my thoughts. I just need to try harder.

  A door opens and I press myself into the shadows. I hear a click and then see plumes of smoke being blown. Someone has stepped outside for a smoke; this might be my only chance regardless of who is on the end of that fag I have to take the risk. I step out slowly, it’s a woman and I relax a bit. Of course, it is all the men have been called to serve. She looks up at me and goes to speak but then looks around cautiously. She brings a finger to her lips and nudges her head to the door behind her, an invitation to enter.

  I slip past her quickly, quietly, the blood in my veins thrumming. I take in the room. It’s a kitchen, toilet, bedroom and living room all in one with partitioned sections for imagined privacy. It’s just one room! What the heck? I don’t know what I expected, the shacks are small but I thought the bedroom would be separate at least.

  I turn around at the sound of the door clicking shut and face the woman that took me in. She gives me a small smile and starts walking towards me, again placing her finger to her lips, warning me to stay silent. I do as she says and concentrate on watching her as she gains; my fingers curl around my knife again. She doesn’t look threatening but I know not to judge a book by its cover. I’d peg her to be in her forties, she has shoulder length blonde hair but a dull, lank colour and texture to it.

  She stops before me and holds my stare as if making sure I’m not gonna yell out and starts patting me down, spreading my legs and my arms and I stand there and let her like a little lost lamb. She plucks the knife out of my pocket and shakes her head before laying it down on the chair. Next, she holds up my wrist and inspects my Comm-rec. Her face turns puzzled and she flicks her eyes to me again questioningly. She drops my arm like it burnt her and gestures to the settee.

  The space is impressively clean considering how tiny the area is; how it doesn’t look cluttered I don’t know. I take a seat on her green fabric two-seater and clasp my hands in my lap. I feel bare, exposed without my knife and never expected a thorough inspection. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was told to strip. All of this without a word exchanged between us. She walks into her kitchen and returns with a small black box. She takes out a small round disc and attaches it to my Comm-rec, a wire leads from it and she attaches the other end of the wire to her own Comm cuff. I watch in amazement, my voice momentarily taken. She sits across from me on a steel chair.

  Finally, she speaks and her voice takes me back. Her voice is smooth and soft almost calming considering what just happened.

  “I’m sorry about that but precautions must be taken, you understand?”

  “Not really,” I tell her.

  “You are from the Zones?” She questions.

  “Is it that obvious?” I reply.

  She smiles. “Suspicion is what we’re built on. You may have been bugged.”

  “Bugged?”

  “Why are you here, Zone dweller?”

  “Faith. My name is Faith.”

  She doesn’t offer up her name, just stares at me waiting for my answer.

  “I’m looking for someone, a few someone’s actually. I heard they may be here at the shacks.”

  “Other Zone dwellers?”

  “No um... It’s difficult to explain. They’re girls from Advance Industries... They ... Um...”

  “They aren’t here,” she says.

  “How do you know? How can you be sure?”

  “Do you have any idea who I am?”

  Substituting a question with a question, I hate that.

  “No, I don’t. I stumbled on you by accident.”

  “How much do you know about this city? Its foundations, its leaders and opposition?”

  “I know everything there is to know about Advance Industries, I know little about everything else.”

  “Do you work for them?”

  “Who? Advance Industries?”

  She nods and looks at her Comm-rec as I answer, “No, I despise them.”

  Her face lights up and she studies me again. “Why?”

  What do I say? I have no idea who she is, what she wants, what she’s doing with this disc she’s attached to me. Do I lie? I’ve been upfront so far though and decide honesty is my best bet.

  “I was born at Advance Industries, used for testing along with my friends... My sisters. I don’t want them to have this power anymore.”

  Her eyes widen but she quickly covers her surprise. “While Johnson Franks is President, they can’t be stopped.”

  Her eyes narrow at my gasp. “Johnson Franks? He’s dead,” I tell her. How do they not know this? Has it not been announced that the President is no more?

  She stands up quickly before looking at her Comm-rec again. Whatever she reads has her chewing her lip.

  “How do you know this?”

  “I think it’s my turn for questions. I’ve answered everything you’ve asked and still have no idea if you can help me. Who are you?”

  She sits again slowly, mulling over whe
ther to answer. After a tense few seconds of silence she says, “This city has many people who oppose the President. Homeless, shack dwellers, even a handful of Zone dwellers. We’ve been gaining numbers over the years preparing to take matters into our own hands. We are with a group of off-grid teams.”

  “You mean you have an army willing to fight?”

  “Not an army, nowhere near as big as that. Some of us have seen what was going to happen all along, others had to wait until their lives were affected by those in power before they switched and formed an allegiance. You’ve heard of those that went off-grid and never returned?”

  “Yes.”

  “They joined the ranks; we communicate via our Comms if and when we find any new information. No one knows that Johnson Franks is dead. We knew something had happened at the labs and it sent the rich into a frenzy but finding out what has proven... Difficult.”

  I decide to play devil’s advocate. “You believe me, just like that? How do you know I’m not lying, making it up?”

  She smiles again and nods to my Comm-rec. “My homemade lie detector. Every question you answered transmitted straight to my Comm with a lie or true flag. All true in your case.”

  “The information you just told me is very valuable. If there is no President, then now would be the best time to strike.”

  “I have plenty more where that came from. In return I need something. I’m willing to spill everything I know and believe me I know a lot. I can help you but I need to find my sisters.”

  Her eyes flutter to her Comm- rec again and she can see I’m truthful. I peel off the disc and fling the wire to her.

  “Okay.” She says quietly, “It says truth so I really hope you do have something, there’s someone you’re going to have to meet. They’ll help but it won’t be for free.”

  “Nothing ever is,” I mumble.