Advancing ((Advance Industries #2)) (13 page)

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.

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 whether 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.

I’ve been awake for hours, we set up camp not far from Charlotte’s walls and I didn’t sleep a wink. I’m going to play this my way this time. If she won’t help, then we’ll find someone else or go back without weapons.

I’ve been back for an entire day and am no closer to finding my girl. It’s eating away at my insides. The not knowing. Is she okay? Safe? In danger? Pain? Is she happier without me? Sad? Does she think about me? Is the baby okay? The list keeps growing; the boxes I stored them in keep tearing open. I’m passed tired, the word for how I feel hasn’t been invented.

Should I even be here? She left to escape me. I imagine the last thing she wants is me showing up to remind her how much she despises me. Did she really think I’d watch her disappear and just stand back and accept it? If so we really have lost our connection. I might have been a jerk, I might’ve deserved losing her to realise that fact but deep down she knows me, she knows me better than anyone and she must know this isn’t the kind of thing I can accept or ignore. It’s not a territorial thing, a need to have things my own way, to get what I want. It’s deeper than that. If I truly thought she’d be better off alone I’d give it to her, I’d wrap it up in a big red bow and wish her well. But I know her too, she’s doing her impulsive ‘I can cope, I need no one, I’m not hurting’ thing. She left so I couldn’t see what was happening to her, she left thinking it was best for me. If she didn’t love me anymore she wouldn’t care about what was best for me. She needs me as much as I need her. We were both too stubborn to admit it, though. Did she learn that from me too?

I wish I could take back some of the things I taught her, some of the things she picked up from being around the team 24/7. She’s a woman, a woman who didn’t know how to be one. I took her in, surrounded her with men that swear and are lewd. It was like teaching a child to grow up and I taught her wrong. I led her the wrong way; she learnt to stifle her feelings like we do, to hide them, run away from them instead of opening up. But even if she tried, would I have listened? I was burying my head too.

I’m too old for this shit! I just don’t feel it anymore. If, no
when
I get Faith back I’m quitting. It was fine when I only had myself to think about, when I was single and didn’t need to consider others but now I have my girl, a baby on the way, this has to stop. I can’t leave them for long periods of time, never knowing when a mission will be complete. I can’t be coming home to them and scaring a child with cuts, bruises or other injuries. Home? Where will home be? Will Faith want to stay here? Will she follow me back to my time if I put it right? Would I even ask that of her? Travelling has so many risks, no she won’t be travelling again, definitely not while she’s pregnant. In fact, if I have my way she won’t be doing a thing. I can’t see her in that turmoil again if something happened. I can’t watch her lose herself, I’ve watched it too many times, who knows if next time she’ll be able to find her way back from the maze her mind creates.

I sit up and roll my neck. I won’t miss sleeping wherever we can lay our heads. Last night was a field with my backpack as a pillow and my jacket as a quilt. Taking it in turns every few hours to keep watch while listening to the others snoring and farting. I should have volunteered to watch the whole night as sleep wasn’t forthcoming but it gave me time to think. It made me realise what’s important. I never thought the thrill of my job would leave me, maybe it’s just a stumbling block, maybe it’s the uncertainty but as of right now I want to give up. I’ll finish this, lead them as I should for the final time, then I’m done. Decision made.

“You talk some shit in your sleep!” Cal says.

I look around to pinpoint who he’s talking to but it’s only us awake. That would be me then. “Really? Wanna share?”

“Nah just thought I’d warn you.”

“Warn me?” I question.

“Mm hmm if you say half that stuff when Faith’s next to you, well, can you film what she does to you?”

“What the fuck are you on about Cal?”

He smirks. “Dreaming about Charlotte by any chance?”

“Fuck off! The only way I’d dream about her is if I was strangling her!”

He feigns shock. “Never had you pegged as a bondage type.”

“Cal it’s way too fucking early for your perkiness and jokes, get lost.”

“Kye seriously you need to lighten up. That badass image you got going might reel in the women but us guys need you to cut loose once in a while. Do you remember how to have fun?”

“I’m fun,” I protest but even the word on my tongue tastes foreign.

He folds his arms. “Fun? Bullshit. You’re the least fun person I know. Come on let go of that tension, do something spontaneous.”

“Like what?”

He rolls his eyes. “Look around, what do you see?”

I look around what seems a vast field and all I see is grass, trees and the team fast asleep. I shrug at him.

“Wanna know what I see?”

Not really but if it’s gonna get him off my back for the rest of the day I’ll go with it. I nod for him to divest.

“Opportunity,” he says it with a glint in his eyes.

I sigh, whatever the fuck it is he sees I don’t get it, I’m not in the mood for it. Why is he the only one awake? One on one with Cal is like dealing with a hyperactive kid; he literally zaps the energy out of me and feeds off it to keep himself going.

He can see he’s losing me so carries on, “The team are asleep, let’s mess with them.”

“What? Cal, how old are you?”

“Young enough that a good prank still makes me laugh my arse off. Come on, this’ll be fun. I guarantee you’ll crack a smile.”

“I’ll take that bet!” I tell him.

We wander around our makeshift camp, doing everything from tying their laces together to drawing on their faces. I feel ridiculous but Cal’s face is so boyish and excited by the fact I’ve allowed him, not to mention joined in with him doing this that I start to anticipate their reactions. I can’t wait to see them come around to what we’ve done. On the other hand, I’m pissed, why the hell are they not waking up? We’re all pretty light sleepers usually, used to having to wake in a flash and wipe off the fog of sleep.

Cal claps his hands gently in glee and I leave him to it while I get a fire started. He’s such a man child!

I knew I’d end up walking for miles again; thank God I had the foresight to pack clothes and toiletries. The still nameless woman has accompanied me on my off grid trek. Apparently the person who can help me lives out here. I brought spare clothes but she luckily brought water and snacks. The sun is beaming down on us and I’ve removed Trask’s jacket and stuffed it in my bag. If I didn’t need to drink so badly, the bottled water would be tipped over my head. She gave me my knife back and it’s tucked in the belt of my jeans, it’s hardly comfortable but I know I need quick access to it. Conversation has been sparse. For every question I ask, she dodges and throws out two of her own.

I’m giving her nothing, not until I get the answers I need. It’s funny that I came back to stop Fraser but all I’ve been able to concentrate on is my sisters. One thing at a time. The most important first. I wonder how an election is going to be set up if the city still doesn’t know the President has died. How much time do I have to get my sisters and stop him?

I wish it was night time, I wish that it wasn’t just wide open areas of space with no chance of shade. I wish I knew my companions name. I wish I knew where we were going and who we are meeting and what to expect but as usual, I’m in the dark. I wish Kye were here to calm me with something as simple as his grin. And while I’m wishing for stuff I wish my stomach would stop churning and my saliva glands would dry up. Who knew I was so high maintenance?

“We should reach there this afternoon,” she says.

Oh great, I can’t bloody wait. I’m sure I have sand in my trainers, I can feel it rubbing between my toes, and socks it seems are no barrier for that stuff. I remember the devastation my feet suffered after my last wander through off grid. I can’t wait until we’re free of the sand, if ever. I’m so grumpy but I guess it’s better than the sorrow I was feeling, any emotion other than hopelessness and deep consuming grief has to be better, right? I thought my emotions were stuck, kind of like Groundhog Day, just feeling the same thing over and over again, reliving the same pain day after day. Grumpy I can get on board with.

“Are you okay?” She asks when I don’t respond to her. I can’t even remember what she said.

“I’m fine,” I snap.

“Try telling that to your face,” she says.

I spin to face her. “My face always looks like this. If you don’t like it, don’t look.”

She smiles. “Better. Hold on to that feistiness. Where we’re going the slightest hint of weakness will be pounced on.”

Well hallelujah something helpful from her with no name. Weakness is frowned on, well no shit, isn’t it always?

“What is it with everyone and all this macho shit?”

“The strong survive, the weak perish. It’s that simple.” She shrugs. “Why do you think so many are blind to what goes on in the city? Because it’s easier to abide by rules, it’s easy to sit back and let it be someone else’s problem, it’s the simplest option. What happens to those that do argue, that voice an opinion, are they heard? No, because they’re in the minority. They’re in the minority because they’re weak, because instead of persevering and fighting for what they believe they roll over and accept their fate.”

“That’s a generalisation if ever I heard one. Some people aren’t aware that there’s a secret gang out here willing to stand by them.”

“We’re not a gang and we have nothing against those that won’t stand up for themselves, it’s what they’ve been taught not to do. That’s why it’s hard for us to build numbers, it’s rare that someone comes forward and wants out of the control. We have to be strong for those people, for those once in a while finds. We hide behind our hard facade because we once were weak also.”

“Yeah? Well showing a little vulnerability every now and then doesn’t hurt. In fact, it’s better than looking at a block of hardened concrete and never knowing how they truly feel.”

She tilts her head and scrutinises me. “You’ve been bitten by love? Love makes us weak. It’s all good in the beginning but inevitably it breaks us down. Don’t let it take you, channel that loss into anger. Channel that pain into revenge.”

I stop walking and study her. What a ridiculous thing to say. It does sound intriguing, though. Would rage and revenge feel better than this... This shallow hole? Am I even capable of switching off my need for love, my need to be loved? I survived without it for a long time, surely I can survive again. How long is it meant to hurt for, will it hurt forever or with time will it ease?

“Will it ever stop hurting?” I ask her.

“One day,” she replies with a knowing smile.

One day? One day I won’t wake up to find my insides are scraping together like sandpaper, sanding every part of me. One day I won’t wake up and find it difficult to breathe for those first few seconds of realisation. One day I won’t think of him anymore and feel my heart constrict so tightly that I panic it’s going to explode and not one part of me will be left intact.

One day
.

I’ll have to listen to Cal more often. It was fucking hilarious to watch the team wake up one by one and not realise what we’d done to them, except for Palmer, as soon as he tried to stand up he went arse over tit as it was his laces I tied together. Cal and I sounded like a pack of hyena’s as we cackled like women and held our aching sides. They’re really unimpressed with us and we’ve been grunted at, the rest of the way. They haven’t ratted us out to Jonah though who we wrote on, he still has no clue and every time I look at him I have to bite my cheek to stop from doubling over. It will be even funnier once we get to Charlotte’s and that’s just what I need. I need the image of him being mauled, to cancel out the image of my completely different mauling.

Her building is right in front of me now. It’s crazy, apparently when she started out she lived in a shack but once she gained a loyal following building went into overdrive and she’s set up a well-guarded compound. Grey concrete blocks greet us but this compound stretches back into what were woods. The amount of time it must have taken to clear out a path is mind blowing. The entrance is visible, just but the rest of the buildings are immersed in the woodland. The doorway is opened by a series of levers and pulleys manned by hand. We only found this place the first time we travelled here by a tip-off from a drunk who thought he’d be rewarded in alcohol by Charlotte for sending more fighters her way.

The guards step forward on our approach.

I walk towards one. “Hi, we’re here to see Charlotte.” I elbow him in his windpipe and watch as he starts gasping for breath, he sinks to his knees and the other guard nods to the watchers. The signal to let us pass. It took us the longest time last time to figure out how to gain entry. There’s no guest list that your name can be checked off on. It’s all about strengths and weaknesses, to enter a guard has to be hurt.

The levers start grinding and the first door opens falling down to the ground almost like a bridge. Once that has opened, the next lot of levers start sliding the following door across to the right. We walk through and nothing has changed, the market they have here is simple, fruit, veg and other items are sold from carts in the street. The houses are the same grey concrete, ugly but sturdy and most are only one level, no going up the stairs to bed.