The Way the World Ends (The Evolution Gene Book 3)

by Aaron Hodges

  Letting out a long breath, Sam quickly furled his wings and sat. On the other side of the table, Diego hesitated half a moment before resuming his seat. “I only want justice for my people,” he muttered.

  “Then we want the same thing,” Sam replied. Their eyes met across the table as Sam continued. “Do you think we had any choice in this? That I had a choice when I stood on that stage beside the President? They murdered my parents, kidnapped me, and threw me in a cage to be their guinea pig. There were hundreds of us, hundreds of kids just like me, who weren’t lucky enough to make it this far.”

  He fell silent then. Diego stared at him for a long moment before looking away. Sam doubted the man had heard a word of what he’d said.

  “You will have your justice, the both of you,” Harry said quietly. “The President will not escape the laws he swore to uphold. The Texan army is poised at the border, ready to strike when we give the green light. They can be at the Kirtland Air Force base in a matter of hours.”

  “That’s too long,” Jocelyn replied. “He’ll have eyes on them—they won’t make it a mile before he launches his arsenal. Unless you think he’s bluffing?”

  “He’s not bluffing.” Harry’s eyes took on a haunted look. Remembering Harry’s tale, Sam bit his lip as the veteran continued, “He was the one in charge, when we burned DC. He had no qualms then—he won’t now. He’ll wipe us all out in a heartbeat if he thinks he’s threatened.”

  “Then it’s a stalemate,” the commander replied. “We can’t act against him, and with my men, he doesn’t have the numbers to act against us. I say we leave him there to rot.”

  “Didn’t you hear what he said?” Sam cut in. “He already has the numbers to control New Mexico. If we leave him alone, he’ll only grow stronger. He’ll come for us, sooner or later. It’s what the man does.”

  The commander snorted. “No one in their right mind would follow him after the Director’s confession. He may not be bluffing about the nuclear codes, but he is about this so-called army of his. I doubt he has more than a handful of supporters left by now.”

  Sam gritted his teeth. “You’re wrong,” he grated out. “There were plenty who knew about what he was doing to us, but they still followed him. So long as he lives, so long as he holds an ounce of power, others will flock to it. It’s what you—what we—do.”

  Looking around the table, he searched for an ally, but the eyes of the others were downcast, avoiding his gaze. Even Jocelyn looked uncertain, but she nodded. “Sam’s right. We can’t forget how ruthless this man is. So long as he’s at large, the WAS will never be safe.”

  “We’re not safe right now!” a woman cut in. Her sleek black suit and manicured nails marked her as one of the elite—one of the few who hadn’t fled when the riots broke out. “Hooligans are marching in our streets, burning our property, threatening our lives. My husband was killed because he ran into the wrong people.”

  “Your people have been killing mine for decades,” Diego snapped.

  “How dare you—”

  “Enough,” Harry spoke over the top of them. His eyes swept the table, ensuring silence before he continued. “We will find a way to deal with the President in due course. But as you say, Grace, we must also restore order at home. Commander, we return to the reason I asked you here. Your men are the only organized force left who can help bring peace to San Francisco. Will you do your duty, and help us?”

  A smile flickered across the commander’s face. “I will, sir. But as I said, there are conditions.” His gaze wandered to where the refugees sat at the other end of the table. “Peace must also mean restoring law and order. How can that happen, when I am told you have a known traitor in your custody, sir?”

  Harry shook his head. “According to our illustrious government, I am a traitor, Commander. You might have to be more specific.”

  “The boy, his friend,” the commander said, nodding at Sam, “the one who killed the Texan on live television.”

  For a long moment, Harry said nothing. Sam held his breath, heart racing as he waited for the veteran to deny the accusation.

  “It’s true,” Harry said, finally breaking the silence. “We have Christopher in custody.”

  “I knew it!” Diego was on his feet again, his teeth bared. He looked ready to throw himself at Harry. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted, old man!”

  Harry raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “As I said, he is in custody, Diego. He’s not going anywhere. When the time comes, he will face justice for his actions.”

  “I want him to see justice now,” the commander cut in. “I want to see whether you really mean to uphold our laws, or if you intend to let the injustices of the old government continue.”

  Sam’s chair clattered to the ground as he leapt to his feet. “You can’t be serious!”

  Across the table, Diego sneered. “Guess we know where your boy’s true loyalty lies, Harry,” he snarled. “What about yours?”

  Sam started to reply, but Harry spoke over him. “Samuel, sit,” he said, even as he stood.

  “You cannot be considering this?” Sam snapped, refusing to back down.

  Harry met his gaze. “I’m sorry, Samuel. You saw the footage, the same as the rest of us. Do you deny Christopher murdered the Texan?”

  “None of you were there,” Sam replied. “None of you have gone through what we had to, just to survive.”

  “Maybe not,” Harry replied, “but this is real life, Samuel. The decisions we make have consequences. Like it or not, Christopher killed an innocent man. That cannot go unpunished.”

  Sam swallowed, his gut churning. “So what, suddenly it’s okay to punish people without a trial?”

  Harry’s eyes lowered half an inch. “Maybe,” he murmured, his voice suddenly weary.

  “I won’t stand by and let you do this,” Sam all but roared.

  “I know, Samuel,” Harry answered sadly, “but I suspected it would come to this. Which is why I took measures before this meeting to have Christopher moved.”

  Sam stared at the old man, breath held, unable to believe what he was hearing. “You betrayed us?” he whispered.

  Closing his eyes, Harry nodded.

  Part 5

  Compromise

  42

  The creak of hinges drew Chris’s attention to the door, but he quickly looked away again as Ashley stepped inside. Hours had passed since Liz had stormed out, and now darkness hung over the city beyond his window. With nothing but the television to keep him company, Chris had been drifting towards sleep. Now his heart raced as the patter of Ashley’s footsteps crossed the room.

  “Hello, Chris,” Ashley said as she came to a stop beside his bed.

  Chris steeled himself. “Ashley…” he began, then trailed off as he looked up.

  She was staring at the broken chair, but her amber eyes moved back to him as he spoke her name.

  “I see things went well with Liz,” she said, eyebrow arched.

  A lump rose in Chris’s throat. Swallowing hard, he managed to find his voice. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, fixing his eyes on the far wall. “I’m so sorry, Ash.”

  “Oh, Chris,” Ashley whispered, her voice cracking.

  Chris’s mouth fell open as he realized she was crying. Before he could react, she threw herself at him, drawing him into a hug. For a second he stiffened, shocked by her reaction. Then he was hugging her back, clutching awkwardly at her with chained hands, her warmth against his chest. Burying his head in her shoulder he started to sob. He clung to her as though she were his last grip on reality, as though if he let go, he would fall away into the darkness, would lose himself forever.

  “What have I done, Ash?” he gasped, eyes clenched closed.

  “It’s okay, Chris,” she cooed, stroking his hair. Drawing back, she pressed her forehead against his. “It’s okay. I’m here, I’m alive. We’re safe, we survived.”

  Chris nodded, still choking on his grief. With his hands fixed to the rails, he couldn�
�t reach his face to wipe away the tears, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was they were safe, free of their tormentor.

  When they finally broke apart, Ashley sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes shimmering. A soft smile touched her lips as she wiped the tears from Chris’s cheeks. Hiccupping, Chris nodded his thanks. A wave of nausea swept through him at the movement. Beside his bed, a machine continued to beep, delivering morphine through a plastic tube into Chris’s arm.

  “How do you feel?” Ashley asked finally, placing a hand on his shoulder.

  Chris shrugged. “Drunk, sluggish. At least it numbs the pounding in my head.”

  “Head wounds take the longest to recover from, apparently,” she replied, “but your last x-ray showed the fractures in your skull have all but healed.”

  “Well, that’s something,” he mumbled, then swallowed. “I don’t deserve your kindness, Ash. I don’t deserve your friendship.”

  “Nonsense,” Ashley replied tartly. She hit his leg, drawing his attention back to her. “We’ve all done despicable things, remember? Should be our motto.”

  “But Mike was…different,” Chris said, fixing his eyes to the floor. “He was a friend.”

  “So was Liam…but I still killed him.”

  Chris looked up, startled. Ashley never talked about her own fight back in the facility, about the boy she’d killed.

  After a moment’s hesitation, Ashley continued. “At least you and Liz weren’t friends with them. Liam…he was…he had become almost like a brother to me.” As she spoke, her eyes turned distant. “Whenever I fell in those first few weeks, he would be there beside me, lifting me back up, urging me on. Without him and Sam, I never would have survived.”

  “You always seemed so strong, when we were locked in our cell…” Chris said, remembering the girl he’d first met in the prison deep in the Californian mountains, the girl who’d told him they were all in this together.

  “I had to be, didn’t I?” Ashley was staring out the window now. “He told me I had to go on, to be strong without him.”

  “He refused to fight?” Chris breathed. “Like Jeremy?” Jeremy was the boy who’d sacrificed himself rather than fight with Richard.

  Ashley pursed his lips. “No,” she murmured, looking back at Chris. “Liam…made me kill him. He threw me around that room like a ragdoll, screaming for me to fight back, to attack him. Until…I did. At the end, when he lay there dying, he smiled…and told me to be strong.” Ashley’s voice cracked as she finished.

  “I never knew,” Chris breathed, squeezing her arm.

  “Not even Sam does.” She clenched her eyes shut. Her chest swelled as she inhaled. “I’m only telling you because you need to hear it, Chris.”

  Chris’s gut clenched. “It’s not the same. Even if it was, I still abandoned you, Ash. I left you to die alone.”

  “It was what I wanted, Chris.” Her eyes glinted. “If she hadn’t…if things had continued, she would have broken me—same as you.”

  Chris hung his head, unable to find the words to reply. He saw again Ashley being dragged into the corridor, felt again the last spark of hope dying in his chest. In that moment he had broken, had found himself truly, completely alone.

  “So what happens now?” he asked finally.

  “They’re going to execute you, Chris,” Ashley replied.

  Chris’s head jerked up, his eyes widening, but there was no trace of humor in Ashley’s face. Taking a breath, he bit his lip and nodded.

  “So be it,” he said. Turning, he stared out the window.

  Beyond the glass, the orange lights of distant skyscrapers lit the darkness, but overhead the sky was black, the stars hidden behind a blanket of clouds. Sadness weighed on Chris as he realized he would never soar through those skies again, never feel the wind in his feathers, or watch as the ground fell away beneath him. No, his end would be here, trapped in this concrete room, chained and helpless.

  “No,” Ashley growled. Chris turned at the anger in her voice, and flinched when he saw the fire in her eyes. “No, you don’t just get to give up, Chris.”

  “What are you saying, Ash?” He frowned. “I know what I did. I have to accept the consequences.”

  “So you’re just going to check out?” Suddenly Ashley was on her feet. She stood over Chris’s bed, wings spread, eyes aglow. “You’re just going to abandon us? Leave the world to wallow in the mess you created?”

  Chris blinked, shook his head. Opening his hands, he rattled the handcuffs. “What do you want me to say, Ashley?” he cried. “What do you want me to do? Fight my way out when they come for me? What good will that do, other than hurt more innocent people?”

  “I expect you to do something!” Ashley gestured wildly. “Your grandmother died for you. She stood up to the Director, gave away her life to show you the way, to remind you who you are, what you’re capable of. Now we finally have a chance to make this world a better place, to finally have peace, and you’re just going to give up?”

  “I deserve to die for what I did, Ashley!” Chris shouted, sitting up in bed. His heart was racing. Fists clenched, he strained against his cuffs. “Don’t you see, it’s the only way I can make up for it? The only way I can make things right!”

  “Coward!” Ashley shot back. “Your death won’t change anything. It’s the easy way out, to escape your own guilt. Why don’t you do something decent with your life for once, instead of running away from everything?”

  Metal rattled as Ashley tossed something at his chest. Chris looked down at the keychain lying on the sheets, then back at Ashley.

  “You’d better get moving,” Ashley said softly, her anger gone as quickly as it had come. “They’ll come for you soon. Sam just left for a meeting with Harry’s council. They’re going to take you while he’s distracted.”

  Chris stared for a moment longer at Ashley, then grasped at the key. Awkwardly he began to unlock his cuffs. While he worked, Ashley pulled the stent from his arm and then went to the wardrobe in the corner. Rummaging inside, she came back with a pile of clothes. Unlocking the second handcuff, Chris rolled out of the bed and tore off his hospital gown. After their time as the Director’s pets, he didn’t worry about Ashley looking. By now, they knew every intimate inch of each other’s bodies.

  When he was dressed, he stood before Ashley, still unsure. He’d followed her directions this far without thinking, his drugged-up mind hardly able to resist his friend’s urgent commands. But now he hesitated, looking from her to the window, wondering whether running away was the right thing to do.

  “What if…”

  “No,” Ashley cut him off. Stepping past him she pulled open the window. A cold breeze whistled inside, tugging at their feathers. “No more arguments, Chris. You want to make up for abandoning me? Then live! Get out there and do something, anything, to help. Don’t stay here and die for nothing.”

  Chris stepped up to the window. The muscles down his back twitched as he spread his wings. He shivered as his dream returned, and he wondered if he even had the strength to fly. If not, this argument would hardly matter in a few minutes. It was debatable whether he would survive the fall from five stories.

  His stomach twisted as he looked at the distant lights, old fears rising up from the past.

  Gritting his teeth, he pressed them back down. Silently, he reminded himself that if this was the end, if his strength failed him and he plummeted to his death, it was what he deserved. It was only right he pay for Mike’s death, for the deaths of the teenagers he’d helped the scientists murder. For betraying Liz.

  At the thought of the blue-eyed girl, Chris glanced back from the window.

  “Liz…” he murmured.

  Ashley stared back, eyes sad. “Fly away, Chris,” she said softly. “There’s nothing left for you here.”

  Hearing the message behind Ashley’s words, Chris nodded. Liz would never accept him now, never find it in her to love him again. Their future had died the night he’d acce
pted the Director’s offer of life. Nothing could change that now.

  “Goodbye, Ashley,” he murmured.

  Without another word, he stepped out into open air.

  And flew.

  43

  Flying back towards the embassy, Liz quickly realized her fight with the thugs had left her with more than just bruises. An itch started in the small of her back, and spread until it felt as though her skin was alive. By the time she landed on the rooftop, she was ready to tear off her clothes and hurl them into a furnace. Obviously, in addition to being idiots, the thugs didn’t know how to bathe, and now her clothes were infested with fleas or lice or some other awful insect.

  Muttering under her breath, Liz stalked through the rooftop door and raced down the stairs four at a time. It took her less than a minute to reach the fourth floor, where she slipped quickly into her room.

  There she tore off her infested clothes and hurled them at the waste bin in the corner. Without pausing for breath, she headed for the bathroom. Marching across the tiled floor, she stepped into the glass box and flicked on the shower. She cursed as a stream of cold water engulfed her, and fiddled with the knob until it warmed.

  Letting out a long sigh, Liz lifted her head and let the water pour down over her hair and feathers. The heat brought immediate relief to her itching skin, and closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to drift. A shiver went through her as the girl’s words whispered in her ears.

  Freak!

  Impulsively, Liz lashed out at the wall. Pain seared her knuckles as they struck the tiles. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, she looked down and saw the sliver of broken tile embedded in her flesh. Teeth clenched, she pulled it out, and then ran her hand under the water. The floor of the shower turned red as her blood swirled into the drain.

  When the bleeding finally stopped, Liz grabbed a bottle of shampoo and emptied it into her hair. She scrubbed herself down, praying the soap would kill whatever bugs still clung to her. Then she leaned forward and let the water run over her wings, sighing as the heat seeped through her feathers. They would take hours to dry, but the relief was instant.