The Lemerons (The Secret Archives Trilogy Book 2)

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The Lemerons (The Secret Archives Trilogy Book 2) Page 8

by Valerie Puri


  Sash sneered. Isaac was teaching Sash that goals could be accomplished without brute force. He never would have thought it possible.

  Although, he craved the way it felt to punch someone. He rubbed the knuckles of his fist, imagining the sensation of hitting an undesirable.

  “When will you make your next move?”

  Sash was eager to know when he could help above ground. He was tired of sitting in Goggles’s office every day watching through the window while the weird scientist worked in the lab.

  “Soon. We can’t rush these things. I won the vote today. Now I need to win the people’s unwavering trust.” Isaac laughed.

  Sash frowned. Did I miss a joke?

  “What’s so funny?”

  “A man came up to me before everyone dispersed and asked what happened to my face.”

  “Did you tell him I attacked you?”

  “No. The truth is always so bland. I told him Victor had a group of men attack me when I found out about his deceptions. I accomplished two things with that statement.” Isaac held up a finger. “One, starting a rumor that there are groups of people with the Order roaming the streets attacking others, and two,” he raised another finger, “conveying that I am more of a victim than anyone else, yet I stand for the people.”

  “I see.” Sash scratched his bald head.

  “Oh, but that’s not the best part. I’ve got a little treat for you.” He clapped his hands together.

  Sash looked up to see Goggles enter the lab through the door to the docile corridor. That was where he kept those undergoing processing and those next in line for it. He was pushing something. Sash stood to get a better look. His eyes grew wide, and his nostrils flared.

  “How did you get him from the undesirables?”

  “It turns out once you’re an elder, no one asks you why you’re moving a prisoner or where to. Especially when it’s this prisoner.”

  Goggles rolled the table into position beneath the bright lights in the lab. Victor struggled against the straps holding him down. He had a gag in his mouth, so he couldn’t speak, but it didn’t stop him from making noise.

  Sash narrowed his eyes at the man who used him for his entire adult life.

  “You want me to torture him for information?” He asked.

  “Heavens no. That would be pointless. He’s lied to you and manipulated you for years. He’ll just try the same tactics again. Everything he says will be a lie.”

  Sash narrowed his gaze at Victor. “I can be very persuasive.”

  “I don’t doubt it for a moment. I’ve got something better in mind, though.”

  Intrigued, he turned his back on Victor to face Isaac. “What do you need me to do?”

  “I want you to get your closure with Victor,” Isaac said, his tone serious. “I want you to process him.”

  Sash was stunned. “You’re asking me to turn him into a docile. Why?”

  Isaac peered through the window at the deposed elder squirming on the table. “Because it’s the right thing to do,” he answered. “This man has used you for far too long. It’s time you return the favor and put him to use.”

  Sash blinked slowly. “You’re right. Victor has taken advantage of my loyalty and used me. I tracked down our enemies and killed them or brought them here for processing. What was it all for? I gave everything to Victor and got nothing in return. He’s the true undesirable.”

  Isaac’s lips twitched into a fleeting smile. “If anyone ever deserved to be processed, it’s Victor.”

  “I’ll do it,” Sash said.

  Isaac placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Good. I know this will help you get closure so you can move forward with the rest of us.”

  Sash stepped through the door from the office into the lab. Goggles had the tray of processing chemicals drawn up into syringes, ready to go. Sash had seen him perform this procedure multiple times before. Sash was sure he could manage it himself. And if he screwed it up and things went wrong, Victor would die. One way or another, he’d be rid of this treacherous man.

  Victor’s grey eyes locked onto his. He mumbled something through the gag, squirming on the table. Sash ignored him and picked up the first syringe filled with green fluid. Removing the cap, he squirted some liquid out of the needle.

  On the table, Victor’s eyes grew wide. He thrashed around on the table, trying in vain to resist his fate.

  Sash sneered, glad Victor understood what would happen to him. “It’s your turn for processing.” He jammed the needle into Victor’s neck.

  Twenty-One

  Travis

  “This is a disaster,” Belle said. “What can we do? Can we vote anyone else in as an interim elder? I mean, Marlene is gone, and Victor’s out of the picture. So, what if Isaac is the stand-in for Marlene, and then we elect someone to replace Victor? That way, when Marlene gets back, she can kick Isaac out of his position. He probably thinks he’ll permanently replace Victor, but maybe we can stop it.”

  “A fine suggestion. Who would you put to the vote?” Uncle Albert asked.

  Belle shrugged. “I don’t know. How about you or Mr. Caraway?”

  Travis raised his eyebrows at the mention of his father. “My father won’t do it. He keeps to himself, does his work, and keeps his head down. He doesn’t want to lead anyone.”

  “I’m far too old and feeble for such a position,” Uncle Albert said.

  Belle scoffed. “Aren’t you the leader of the Truth Seekers? If you can do that and keep it a secret, surely you can lead everyone else out in the open.”

  Uncle Albert shook his head. “It’s not possible. Even if I were to stand, I wouldn’t get the votes. No one will put their safety into the hands of an old man who can’t fight off a mouse, let alone a lemeron.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “However, your other suggestion holds merit. Jack Caraway would make a suitable candidate.”

  “Trust me, he won’t do it,” Travis said.

  Uncle Albert stared at him. The candlelight in the dim storage room reflecting off the old man’s glasses.

  “Of all the people in the Commune, who stood up and took action when Marlene exposed Victor? Your father. Every single person saw him take a stand and do what was right. Removing an elder from power is extremely difficult, and few have ever even tried or had cause to. But your father did and succeeded. People will remember that.”

  Travis crossed his arms. “He’s even more stubborn than Jennie. He’s only focused on protecting himself, me, and Jennie. Everyone else doesn’t matter. He only got upset when he found out Jennie got kidnapped and tortured. Sorry Belle, but you going through the same thing just didn’t affect him as much. Truth Seeker or not, he wouldn’t make a good choice.”

  Uncle Albert frowned.

  The old man tisked, shaking his head. “This is a war, Travis. Wars are never without casualties. I lament what happened to both Belle and your sister. Your father does too, even if he didn’t say it. The point is, we are so accustomed to working in secret that we sometimes lose sight of others’ suffering.”

  He turned to Belle. “I’m sorry for what Sash and the Order put you through, Belle. You never should have been caught in the middle of this.”

  She brushed her long curls over her shoulder and shrugged. “Thanks, I guess.”

  “Here’s what you two must do. Go to Jack and tell him he will stand as the second interim elder. The Commune must always have two. Isaac is not known to many, but he is an even greater threat than Victor,” he turned to Travis. “Your father is well known and respected. He’s an honorable man. If he is elected, he can obstruct Isaac’s plans, whatever they may be.”

  “Then let’s go tell him,” Belle said. “We’ve waited too long to act, and things are getting worse. Come on, Travis.”

  She stood, the candles flickering as she hurried to the door.

  “Not that way, dear,” Uncle Albert called out. “The back door, please. With the eyes of the Order watching, we need to maintain our precautions.”
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br />   “Right, sorry,” she shied away from the door.

  Uncle Albert rose from his chair. “I’ll show you out.”

  He shuffled through the dim room until he reached the other side. He slid a metal rod over, unbarring the side door. It opened into a narrow room with hooks on the wall. A tan, tattered coat hung on one. The space looked more like a closet than anything else.

  “Through there, it leads to the side street.” He motioned to another door at the end of the little room.

  “Thank you,” Belle said.

  “Yes, thanks, Uncle Albert,” Travis added. “We’ll go to my father now and tell him.”

  The old man nodded. After they stepped through to the coatroom, he closed the door behind them. Travis heard the bar sliding back in place, locking them out.

  Things on the street were quiet. Travis looked to the left towards the main square. People were out, even chatting with each other. At a glance, things seemed almost normal again. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their faces were calm, their bodies relaxed. A lady gestured playfully as she spoke to a man. It looked like she was flirting with him. Travis scrunched up his nose.

  “This is too weird.”

  “What’s that?” Belle asked.

  “Look at them. Only this morning, everyone was afraid to look at each other, and now they don’t have a care in the world? They’re acting like Isaac will fix everything.”

  “You’re right. None of them know how dangerous the man they just elected is. Hell, we hardly do ourselves. At least we know he’s dangerous,” she frowned. “Uncle Albert said he’s worse than Victor. That alone makes me feel sick to my stomach.”

  “Yeah. And the stench of the lemerons at the wall doesn’t help. If that’s Victor’s doing, what will Isaac do?”

  Belle mumbled something Travis couldn’t quite make out.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. Let’s just go deliver that message.”

  Turning on her heel, she walked away from the square. Travis glanced back at the fountain. A group of women laughed as they strolled by the stone horses spewing water.

  How can they suddenly be so calm?

  His father would at least try to do the right thing. Maybe it would do everyone good if he were an elder.

  As Travis told his father about Uncle Albert’s message, Jack simply sat there. There was no reaction or hint of what he was thinking. He just stared at his hands, clasped together on the kitchen table.

  Silence filled the room when Travis stopped speaking. His father didn’t say anything. Belle nudged Travis in the side.

  “Will he do it?” She whispered out of the side of her mouth.

  He shrugged and shook his head at the same time.

  Jack just sat there, looking at his hands. His thumb twitched. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He finally spoke. “For the good of the Commune, I’ll do it.”

  Twenty-Two

  Belle

  This time, she rang the bell. It was something Belle always wanted to do, but she’d never had the opportunity. Until now.

  As a little girl, she wondered what the inside of the bell tower looked like. It rose from the pitched roof of the school next to the Sanctuary. She imagined that from up there you could see for hundreds of miles. She always thought the inside of the tower must hold secret passages and trap doors built into the spiral stairs.

  When Travis’s father asked if she could go ring the bell, she seized the opportunity. On her way, she nearly skipped with glee across the town square. She felt like a child again, living out one of her many dreams.

  When she got inside, she was disappointed. Instead of a spiral staircase, there was a boring ladder. There were no secret passages, just old brick walls. And the only trap door was at the top of the ladder that opened to the outside. She crawled through onto the platform. The large bell hung suspended from the roof above her. The bell tower looking nothing like how she imagined it. What a waste.

  Swallowing her disappointment, she gripped the tattered rope and pulled. The brass bell tolled. It was so loud right next to it, her chest vibrated from the sound.

  Belle leaned over the side of the platform to see people walking to the assembly hall in the Sanctuary building. They all looked so small from up here.

  Making sure everyone heard, she pulled the rope again. When the bell grew silent, her ears still rang. She rubbed them, trying to quiet the lingering sound.

  She climbed back down the ladder and left the schoolhouse.

  As she walked through the halls, she worried that at any moment, one of the doors would fly open, and a teacher would chastise her for not being in class. She expected to hear sounds coming from within the classrooms. Teachers lecturing, students chattering, something. All she could hear was the sound of her footsteps echoing in the empty hall on the second floor.

  Something was off. Approaching one of the classroom doors, she gripped the knob. Slowly turning it, she released the latch. Her arm was tense as she cracked the door open to peer inside.

  There was no one there. Maybe this class wasn’t in session. She went to the next door, opening it in the same manner. Again, the room was empty. Room after room revealed itself in the same abandoned state.

  She furrowed her brow. She had only just rung the bell, calling an assembly. There wasn’t enough time for everyone to leave the school. It had only been a couple minutes.

  The strange thing was, there were no books, papers, or other school supplies on the students' desks. If they had just stepped out to go to the Sanctuary next door, they would have left their work in place. But the desks were clean.

  “What in the world is going on here?” Belle asked herself.

  She was answered by a footstep echoing from the far end of the hall. Her heart skipped a beat. In a vacant school, no one should be there. But someone was. Whoever was there took another step. And another. They were coming closer.

  She heard a classroom door creak open. Peeking into the hall, she caught a glimpse of a black pant leg and shoe disappearing into a room down the hall. Her stomach plummeted to her feet. The person disappeared too quickly to know for sure who it might be, but she guessed it was someone from the Order.

  Belle dashed to the stairs throwing the door open. It crashed against the hall, echoing like a crack of thunder. Her heart was racing twice as fast as her feet as she flew down the stairs.

  From the second floor, she heard footsteps crashing after her. She reached the bottom of the steps and threw the door open, emerging into the first-floor corridor. Thankful for the flat surface, she ran faster. Taking a left, she dashed down a side hall leading to the back door.

  Footsteps thundered down the stairs. He almost caught up to her. She flung open the back door, emerging into the sunlight. Catching the door before it could slam shut, she turned the knob and closed it softly. When the door was flush with the doorframe, she released the knob with a faint click.

  Her heart was pounding in her throat. She tried to steady her breathing as she rushed along the back of the school. She spotted a group of girls coming down the adjacent street. She timed it so she could join them and blend in.

  Belle rounded the corner and jogged a couple steps to join the other girls.

  “Hey, you look out of breath. Afraid you might be late?” one girl asked her.

  “Yeah, trying not to be,” Belle said, adding silently, or getting caught.

  The other girl nodded. “Us too. Looks like nearly everyone else might already be inside. We’re here, though, so no need to worry.”

  After they entered the Sanctuary, Belle spotted some of her classmates already seated in the student section.

  She broke off from the group and slid in next to her classmate on the bench.

  “Hey, Mitch,” she whispered.

  “Hey,” he whispered back. “Where have you been?”

  “I’ve been sick,” she lied, “so I missed some school. How’s it been going?”

 
“It hasn’t.”

  “What do you mean?” Belle asked.

  “A day or two after Mrs. Townsend got killed by lemerons…”

  That was wrong. Sash abducted her.

  “They shut down the school. Victor said he needed everyone working in their specialty for some reason,” Mitch continued. “It was weird. Like he didn’t want us to learn anymore, just work.”

  “Yeah, weird,” Belle said.

  That sounded like Victor, though. He was obsessed with turning people he didn’t like or those who threatened his agenda into dociles. They were the very definition of brainless workers. It made sense he would try to achieve the same goal without actually processing anyone.

  Alan Thompson stood at the podium. He was Jack’s friend and helped haul off Victor.

  “Hello everyone.” He cleared his throat into his hand. “I’m rattled like the rest of you. You think you know someone,” he shook his head, “then they turn out to be destroying the community you love. Victor betrayed us all. I’ll never forget it. But I also won’t forget who stood up for what’s right: Jack Caraway. I nominate him as interim elder in place of Victor.”

  Alan stepped back from the podium, gesturing with an outstretched hand to the back of the room.

  Mr. Caraway caught Belle’s eye as he approached the platform, much like Isaac had earlier that day. People whispered as he went by. He stood on the podium and addressed the assembled crowd.

  “There have always been two elders leading the Commune since our founding two hundred years ago. I stand before you as a fellow member of this community. Presently we only have one interim elder leading us. Today, I’m here to stand as the second. According to our founders, there must always be two.”

  The crowd murmured as they considered their new candidate.

  “But it won’t be you,” Isaac said, walking down the aisle to the podium.

 

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