Final Impact: A Dystopian Trilogy (BOUND Book 3)

by Doug McGovern

  A part of Mary was disgusted, but another part of her understood. As crazy as he may sound, Mary agreed. She would have done anything to avoid the pain of her loss, as well.

  *****

  Chapter 5

  Hayden

  The thickness of the woods blinds him and he can’t track her fast enough. He can sense the fear and distress she’s feeling. He’s always been able to smell her strongest emotions on her, but these are unlike any he has ever witnessed on another human. The grief is so overwhelming, Hayden feels it in his own chest. He wouldn’t wish the feeling on his greatest enemy and doesn’t know how to handle it on her when he finds her.

  He tracks the leaves that crumbled beneath what seems like an army of feet and the twigs snapped at their ends. It took many people to do this much damage to the forest, which leads him to believe he knows exactly where she is going and who she is following. This revelation, of course, makes his life far more challenging.

  Unwelcome thoughts swarm his head, all revolving around the woman he loves. What if he is sensing only the remnants of her emotions as she passed through? What if she got caught and the Szorians did with her as they saw necessary. The Szorians wouldn’t just kill someone as beautiful and skilled as Jo Leigh. They would harvest her misery and watch her suffer. They would twist the deepest, darkest emotions from her until she no longer had any reason to live. They wouldn’t just kill a soul as amazing as Jo Leigh’s. They would crush all decency and humanity in it first.

  Hayden has himself convinced without a doubt that they have her, but he knows there is nothing he can do on his own. He may be a highly ranked warrior and one of the most powerful men in the land, but what is power against dozens of creatures who feed on the very essence of which he is made.

  He allows his mind to reminisce over his love. With a great effort, he is able to imagine her touch and the tingles which shoot throughout his entire body when she is near. He basks in her hard attitude and a defiant smile that she uses in times of battle of an upcoming fight. Her tactical use of strategy and excellent shot, which are likely the reasons she survived in the first place, just draws him to her more than before.

  All he has ever wanted in a mate is someone able to hold their own, and Jo Leigh had given that to him tenfold.

  But he had received something else from the girl who had given him a viable partner in battle. His heart jumps at the thought of the girl with unruly blonde curls which fell to her shoulders upon first meeting, but now drops lower, dragging him into a trance with every sway and windblown toss. He is mesmerized by the thought of her soft features and freckles spread across her cheeks, expanding only when she is in the heat.

  But her hazel eyes, the ones that examine his with such an interest, are what drew him in from the beginning. Her eyes that were full of light and joy, which looked to the stars when looking for solace; that stared at him when she didn’t think he was paying attention; and which held such passion when in his midst, were the reason he would do anything for the girl.

  And if he has to burn down the world to replace the light in those flawless hazel eyes, he won’t hesitate for even a second.

  *****

  Chapter 6

  Jo Leigh

  The Szorians have been moving in a straight path, not turning or wavering in direction even once. It is almost as if they know exactly where they are going without any hesitation. Their pace and direction remain constant and as I look at a map before me, I am almost positive that I can predict where they will end up.

  “Here,” I point to a blip on the map—a small, almost unnoticeable town. If there were a town that would go unnoticed by any alien life forms, this town would be the best bet. Unfortunately, something drew their attention here, and I’m willing to bet that it’s not by chance. Nothing seems to happen by chance anymore.

  “Is this where the warrior is?” Jebadyah asks Abdul. Abdul nods tersely and I place the map in my bag.

  “It looks like the Szorians are taking the straightest way and they should arrive extremely late this evening. If we cut ahead of them and find a car in a rather timely manner, we should be able to beat them by a few hours,” I state. My motivation is undying and nothing will stop me and what I have planned.

  “There’s something about this warrior that you must know. His morals are far different than ours,” Abdul warns. I shrug it off without a second thought. If he is willing to fight for our cause, and I’m sure he will, his personality means nothing to me.

  “You are suggesting we somehow pass the Szorians without getting caught and then arrive at their destination before they do? It sounds like a suicide mission,” Jebadyah reasons.

  I shake my head. “If we beat them there, we can leave with their target before they even know what we have planned. It’s about as foolproof as most plans can be.” We trudge through the mountains, continuing in their path. There is nothing but forests and mountains between us and the warrior’s small town, so I briefly wonder how we will pass the Szorians when they are already moving quickly.

  “If we’re going to try to beat them there, assuming this is where the Szorians are even heading, we need to move now. We don’t have time to waste,” Jebadyah explains.

  I agree and we begin our trek. Though my hiking boots are no longer old and hazardous to my feet, they do not make a fast-paced walk easy. Hiking boots are meant for careful, short steps through the woods, not trudging incautious ones.

  We go wide, far enough to the left of the path to go undetected. We pick up our pace, knowing that we have to travel at almost a jog to make it ahead of them promptly. For about an hour we travel at that clip, Jebadyah and Abdul having no problem with neither the terrain nor the exhaustion. I, on the other hand, am far weaker than I used to be. Before the rains, I was able to run miles and trek through a forest denser than these for hours on end. But because of food deprivation and dehydration, I can’t partake in the same arduous activities as I once could. I lost a lot of weight, muscle, and a lack of food drains me of energy quickly, as well.

  Abdul and Jebadyah don’t seem to have that issue. It seems like no Nectorians have that problem. I briefly wonder if it is because of the additional energy that Nectorians have within them.

  As we continue traveling, I realize that a car was a far-fetched goal. There are no cars in the mountain and even if we found one by chance, we wouldn’t be able to take it far. When I come to this realization, I don’t bother saying a word. Abdul and Jebadyah follow me without question and I can only hope that I won’t lead them astray.

  We are ahead of the Szorians and judging by the time and our presumed location, I am willing to bet we are an hour or two ahead, by dusk. I had estimated their time of arrival to be roughly nine or ten this evening, so when the forest is less dense and it looks like we’re approaching civilization, I don’t slow my pace.

  “We need to find them,” I state. “And we don’t have much time to do so.”

  “They know we are here,” Jebadyah whispers. Immediately my senses heighten and I take a mental note of what’s around me. Abdul and Jebadyah stand tall alongside me, wearing their destroyed clothing. It’s not difficult for me to assume that they came from the shackles of the Nectorian holding center back at camp. They don’t have physical marks, but their emotions both seem dark and damaged—especially Abdul’s. The look that is constantly in his eyes tells me everything I need to know. I can feel the same expression on my face every second of every day since Charlie died. He lost the closest person to him—likely his mate.

  Jebadyah stands stiff, which is not a natural posture for him. Jebadyah is often loose and almost goofy looking. Though he and his brother are nearly identical—only different enough to tell apart—their demeanors are distinguishable. But right now, looking at Jebadyah standing stiff, he and his brother are nearly identical in every way. Something is wrong.

  It’s almost as if the trees mask the essence of anyone else in the woods, but I can feel another presence, one that isn’t ex
actly unwelcome, but it is definitely unfamiliar. I can almost feel a dark air around me when faced with a Szorians, excluding Ross of course. At first that dark atmosphere was there with Ross, too, but when Charlie came into the picture, it evaporated.

  I don’t feel the dark air now, fortunately; merely the presence of something.

  And then I finally spot the something, or rather the someone. He’s a tower of a man, just as large as Hayden. Most people can’t accomplish that fate in their wildest dreams, let alone in reality. His height leads me to the impression that he is likely much more than a man, or even a Nectorian. If what Jebadyah said earlier is true, this man may very well be a warrior.

  “Who are you?” he asks in a calculated manner. The tone of voice he uses sends shivers up my spine. Something about this man is off—dangerous even.

  “We’re here to warn you, brother,” Abdul says, stepping forward. Their demeanors almost match. Each of them stands tall and unmoving, stiff and calculating one another’s moves.

  “Why do you bring your group to my home?” The large man asks. If there is a scuffle, would we even stand a chance?

  I notice a spur of motion behind the man and see another boy, far smaller and younger, standing around the backside of a house, hiding from us. For all they know, we could be dangerous and here to cause them harm. “We are here ahead of a group of Szorians,” I cut in, attempting to break the tension. The large man feasts his eyes on me and looks me up and down with an odd expression on his face.

  “We were under the impression that your home is their target,” Abdul finishes.

  “And you bring a woman along with you? What good will she do against an army of Szorians?” The man asks with a flat tone. I clench my teeth but remain silent, understanding where his concern is coming from.

  “That is none of your concern. We are asking only that you pack necessities and join forces with us,” I say, attempting to mirror Abdul’s vigorous and unflinching posture.

  “And why should we believe you?” the man asks. His concern is valid, but he doesn’t understand how close the Szorians are to finding and killing them.

  Jebadyah steps forward with a small smile. It shatters the thick tension around us and I feel the relief pool into my chest. “This is your choice and we won’t make it for you. If you’d like to face the Szorians, joining us would be the safest and most strategic way to do so. If you would rather run and find somewhere else safe, we can get you there. But if you stay here, you and your group will be at serious risk and I doubt you will survive.” Jebadyah’s voice is confident and firm, yet understanding.

  “You plan to face the Szorians? Why would we have better chances when combined with your group?” he asks. “We have no reason to trust you and it doesn’t look like any of you can pose any form of assistance in a fight.”

  “Again with the trust issue,” I begin, shaking my head. “Let me be as brutally honest as possible. We don’t trust you any more than you trust us. If we got into a battle with the Szorians right now, I would protect Abdul and Jebadyah above you without hesitation. I’ve known them just slightly longer and they never once questioned their trust for me. I don’t care about you or if you live or die. Take our help or don’t, but we are not remaining in the Szorians’ path regardless of your choice. We are only extending the courtesy of a warning for the sake of our moral obligations. Do with it as you must, but we won’t be dragged down with you.”

  Jebadyah and Abdul gawk at my honesty, but when the man nods and extends a hand, I am not surprised. It takes a hardheaded person to get through to someone like him. “I am Lee,” he says.

  “Jo,” I respond with a firm handshake. But as I mentioned before, even though he shared his name and hand with me, I do not trust anything about this man. Trust is the reason Charlie died and I will never make that mistake again, including with Abdul and Jebadyah.

  *****

  Chapter 7

  Mary

  They sat there by that grave for what felt like forever. The time was immeasurable while Mary was consumed with so much grief. The silence invades her head and causes unwanted thoughts and feelings to arise. The loss of her own sister was horrible and traumatic, but as she thinks about the loss of Charlie, all of her other pain and sufferings evaporate, leaving only the misery that Charlie has caused.

  Mary is under the impression that Red doesn’t understand what is happening, but when Red sits on her lap with a broad smile, Mary knows that she is right. “Red, honey, do you know why we are here?” Mary asks. She feels that while it was standard practice before the rains to shelter children from death and destruction, the world is far different than before. Mary can’t protect Red in a world like this.

  Red shakes her head and wraps her arms around Mary’s neck, clinging to her like a baby monkey would to its mother.

  “Red, sweetie. You know Charlie, right?” Mary asks gently. Ross’s head whips around and he watches Mary like a hawk as she prepares to teach Red the harsh realities of life—and in this case death.

  Red’s smile enlarges and her body becomes more exhilarated with excitement. Just at the name of the girl, this child’s mood brightens immensely. They used to say that a child is the best judge of character, and this only proves that fact. Mary grimaces down at the little girl and prays for the strength to relay this terrible news to her. Mary now knows why children were sheltered in the past. How could someone dim the light that makes a child innocent and ignorant to the dangers and struggles around them?

  “Honey,” Mary begins, looking into Red’s eyes. Whatever expression Mary wears calms Red to a reasonable level of excitement. With a glance at Ross, Mary realizes that he is the farthest thing from happy with this decision. Mary believes that it is because if Charlie is still alive to a child, her essence still lives. “Do you know how I tell you to be careful when you are playing?” I ask.

  Red nods with an over-exaggerated movement of her head. She lifts it all the way up and then throws it all the way back down to her chest.

  “Well, I do that so that you will stay safe. Sometimes, when people don’t stay safe, they can’t play anymore.” Mary questions how to better explain this situation. She needs Red to grasp the concept, but she doesn’t want to completely obliterate the little girl’s ignorance. “Whenever people don’t play safe, sometimes things happen…” Mary had no idea how complicated such an explanation could be, especially with a pair of bright, untainted brown eyes. Her brown eyes are so similar to Charlie’s that Mary finds herself unable to speak.

  She doesn’t notice Ross until he’s directly by her side, pulling the child from her arms. “Sometimes, Red, the most amazing people try to protect other people from getting hurt. Those people are usually the ones who can’t live anymore. Do you know what it means to be alive?” Mary watches Ross speak gently to the child, voice thick with unshed tears. Red nods. “Well when you aren’t alive anymore, your family and friends have to be sad for a little while. Charlie was a really cool girl. She isn’t alive anymore because she protected someone else, so that means she died a hero. Has Mary told you about superheroes?”

  Red giggles in his arms, not feeling the sadness of Charlie’s death. The way Ross explains it, it’s a good thing, not sad or miserable. Mary sends a small smile toward Ross. “I told her about Spiderman and a lot of princesses,” She explains.

  Ross nods at Mary and then turns his attention back to Red. “Charlie is a superhero now. She can’t be alive anymore, but that’s only because she did something like a superhero.” Mary is grateful he doesn’t tell Red the reason Charlie died. Though Red may not fully comprehend, Charlie died so Red would be okay.

  Red tips her head and watches Ross. Mary can’t understand how Ross can be so accepting toward the child who lived in the place of his mate. If Mary was in that situation, she knows she wouldn’t be nearly as accepting.

  But then it hits her.

  She is in that situation. Ruby died giving birth to Red. Red is only alive because Ruby gave
her life, but as she looks at Red, nothing changes. Red is an innocent, kindhearted, beautiful little stick-thin girl with hair to match her biological mother’s. Something about Red makes it impossible to hate her.

  “Princess?” Red asks with a grin. Her voice is childlike and not easily understandable, but she mimics a word Mary has said to her a hundred times. Mary tilts her head, unsure as to how she went from saying mama to princess in a matter of hours. Are Nectorian quick learners as well as quick growers? Red is only a few months old and she’s already racing around and grown to the mental and physical maturity of a one-year-old.

  “Yeah that’s right. She is a princess,” Mary says. “She’s a lot like Sleeping Beauty, but she doesn’t have a Prince Charming to wake her up,” Mary explains. “She won’t wake up again,” Mary whispers. The way she explains it—in child-friendly terms—makes it so much more real. It almost hurts more now that it was explained using such innocent terms.

  Ross handles her so gently, it makes Mary’s heart explode in disappointment. How can someone who is supposedly evil treat this little girl with such love. Charlie changed him so much. Red jumps up and rushes around the area until she is almost out of sight, but not completely. She knows that that rule is the most important.

  Ross looks at Mary with shock. “Why would you tell her Charlie died?” He asks. His voice is rough.

  “She has to know the truth, especially when everything is so bad. I don’t want it to be a surprise for her. I want her to learn to be happy in a world like this, because as far as we know, it’s all she has,” Mary explains to Ross. Ross nods like he understands and stares at Charlie’s grave.

  They sit in silence until Mary finally speaks. “Is any of this worth it?” she asks. “Life, I mean?” she asks with a shrug. “Everything has gone to shit in the world and there is no reason for any of this. We can’t make a difference when everything is this shitty, so is it worth it?”