Perfection (JL Spelbring) (21 page)

Read Perfection (JL Spelbring) Online

Authors: JL Spelbring

Tags: #Perfection

“Shh.”

He handed Doc both bags and the rifle, then pulled himself through the gap. The boards protested angrily. He gingerly turned around and laid across the planks, sliding the gun under him, muzzle pointing out into the loft.

Hours passed, and the sun slid across the sky. Shadows lengthened and danced across the loft. Except for the occasional voice carrying across an unknown distance, or the echo of barking, it stayed silent.

Tired from staying in the same position for so long, a kink biting at the back of his neck, Rein rested his head on his arms, fighting to stay awake. The doctor had dozed off a half-hour earlier. He felt the pull on his lids too, urging him to join Doc, when the squeak of rollers along a rusted track broke the monotony. He nudged the doctor.

“We have visitors.”

From beneath, two distinct sets of footfalls stepped across planks. Rein put his finger to his mouth, but the doctor didn’t need any warning, his body tighter than a taut wire.

Whoever roamed below didn’t bother to be quiet. A crash sounded, and Rein knew the boxes next to the door had fallen over. He tracked the sound of the intruders to where the ladder lay useless on the ground. From the light scraping, it sounded like someone was pushing bits of wooden litter around with his foot, before he proceeded deeper into the barn toward the back, where Rein had parked the truck directly below the crawl space. His body became like Doc’s, still, unmoving; even his breath was shallow.

For the first time ever, he was happy he’d followed the procedures dictated by Jordan. The The rules were a big pain, but he performed them religiously.

Then, a seed of doubt sprouted. Had he cleaned out the cab?

He thought back, trying to remember. The backpacks were with them, trash shoved inside. The gun wasn’t in the cab. He remembered picking out everything. Yes, he’d cleaned it out, and he’d smudged dirt on the window to make the truck appear abandoned. The hard, dry ground didn’t show tire tracks, and Doc had placed rubble around the rusted hunk of metal. All necessary precautions had been performed.

Hopefully, the searchers would wander around a bit, and then leave.

“Alex,” said a disembodied voice. “Where are you?”

“Over here. Check this out,” said Alex, apparently the one directly below them.

Heavier thumps echoed through the floorboards and stopped. “Wow. Is that an Oshkosh? I’ve only seen these in history books.”

“I know. I can’t believe it was left behind.”

“Probably broken or something. Not worth bringing out during the evacuation.”

“No. It must have been missed during the sweep.”

One of the men smacked the truck with his hand. A metallic bang sounded.

“We can file a report on it later. If they want the metal, they can come get it.”

The silence wavered for a moment, and was broken by a loud popping; the truck door opened. Rein closed his eyes. Although he had never believed in a higher power, he mouthed a prayer anyway.

The door slammed shut, and he heard some more scuttling around. Something scraped across the floor, accompanied by muttering, as if suddenly the intruders were afraid of being heard. Rein strained to hear, but their voices were too low. Then his fear was realized. The trapdoor leading to the loft swung open and two huge hands appeared, followed by blond hair. Rein and Doc ducked into the concealment the darkness offered.

“Just a little further,” said a man as his head popped up like a jack-in-the-box. Sharp, angled jowls completed the squareness of his face.

“You weigh a ton,” said the voice belonging to Alex.

“Muscles.”

Rein realized the man wasn’t kidding. He positioned his hands accordingly, and lifted his body on two arms befitting tree trunks. Muscles bulged and rippled under the dark clothing. He tilted to the side to bring his leg up, but a sharp snap stopped further movement. He readjusted.

Snap
.

“Hold up,” he screeched. “Stop.”

“Can you see anything?” said Alex.

His partner scanned the area, craning his head to see behind him and around the door. “Just dust. No one would be crazy enough to come up here. It’s not safe.”

“Come on, it’s getting dark.”

“Okay.”

But before he lowered himself, the man glanced toward the back of the barn. Rein’s prayer died and was replaced by a thrumming heart. Doc’s chest stopped moving, as if he’d lost the ability to breathe.

“Wait,” the muscle-bound man said, narrowing his gaze and inclining his head forward.

“What?”

“Just…” He didn’t finish, his stare unwavering.

Rein felt the man’s eyes boring into him, the tension of the trigger familiar against his finger. If the man noticed them, he’d have to be quick. First Mr. Muscle, then Alex. Sweat dripped from his hairline and down his neck.

“Do you see something or not?” Alex asked, his voice strained.

His companion’s voice seemed to break the scrutiny of the muscular man. He blinked. “I thought…” He squinted again before he relented. “No, nothing, just shadows. Lower me down.”

A mountain of relief collapsed on Rein as the man disappeared, and he risked breathing again. Doc followed suit, as his chest expanded. He listened as incorporeal voices faded and the barn door closed. Emptiness, and the certainty the searchers had left, didn’t matter; neither man spoke until complete darkness engulfed the barn.

“It’s night, let’s get out of here,” said Doc, pulling himself forward. His feet hit the floor with a dull thud.

“Wait.” Rein placed the shotgun to the side, before flipping himself onto the ground.

“What?”

“I’m guessing they’re camped close by.”

The doctor looked disheartened. “We can’t just stay here, like sitting ducks.”

“I don’t think they’ll come back. At least, not tonight.” Rein went to the corner of the barn. He pulled out his blanket and spread it across the floor, then took a seat. “We have to leave the truck behind, now that they know it’s here, and hoof it back to the caves.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow night. Hopefully by then, they’ll move along.”

The doctor sighed while he settled next to Rein. “I’ll take the first watch,” he said, pulling the rifle on his lap.

Rein’s lips pursed in uncertainty.

“What? Just because I never carry doesn’t mean I don’t know how to use one.” He slid the bolt back and chambered a round. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

24

Sweat dripped down Ellyssa’s face. Her body remained in perfect balance while she strengthened her arms and legs. First, an extended knife strike to the throat of her invisible enemy, then she spun around into a roundhouse kick, taking out her enemy’s knees. Much like a dancer, she moved fluidly, as she practiced the sequence of
katas
she’d been performing daily since she had turned three.

The discipline had developed her, mind, body, and spirit, into the warrior she was bred to be. It helped keep her muscles strong and flexible even without the ability to run or use weights. She felt them pull under her skin, tightening, flexing, and stretching. Even after her accident, her body was ready, if need called for action. And, eventually, the call would come. Right now, though, the exercise kept her focus off Rein.

She swept her foot from
Hachi-dachi
to
Zenkutsu-dachi
and snapped her arms out into a series of
tsukis
, yelling
kias
to accompany the movements. Performed perfectly, as always. If she had on her
gi
, instead of the black shirt and camo pants, the material would snap with the strength and form of her attack.

The
kata
completed, she brought her hands up and around, ending with her feet together and her arms at her sides. She bowed. Clapping erupted behind her. Unsurprised, Ellyssa turned around and bowed to Trista, who’d been watching her for the last five minutes.

“That was wonderful. I’ve never seen anyone do anything like that.” Trista bounded from the entrance toward Ellyssa, her blue eyes sparkling in excitement and her ponytail bouncing in blond waves. “Can you teach me sometime?”

“I’d be happy to,” Ellyssa said, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her hand froze in mid-swipe. She’d spoken like a normal person without even thinking about it. Mathew was right, practicing brought it about like second nature.

Trista’s face lit and exhilaration oozed from every pore. “Great!”

Half-afraid the female was going to hug her, Ellyssa stepped back and began wiping down her arms. Even with Jordan and his daylong visits, she still didn’t feel comfortable with everyone. Saddened over her inability to completely trust Trista, she turned from her visitor and washed her face in the basin.

Trista didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. She went over to Ellyssa’s cot and sat down. “I’d like that,” she said, crossing her legs. “By the way, Jordan wants to see you.”

Ellyssa’s gaze flashed toward the door leading into the tunnel. “What about the guard?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I sent him away. Your days of being guarded are over.” She picked up the novel Ellyssa had been reading and wrinkled her nose. “You like this book?”

Her eyes fell to the book Trista was thumbing through. To have a family, people who loved her, wasn’t that the true reason for existence? It definitely wasn’t to live in loneliness.

“I do.”

“I’m not much into reading. I know I should be, but…” She shrugged.

“All I have ever read were text books. Never any fiction. Just facts and more facts.”

The arch in Trista’s eyebrows and the pull of her mouth told Ellyssa how much she thought she’d missed. Even being raised in a cave with very few modern amenities, things Ellyssa took for granted, Trista was the one feeling sorry for her. Just like that, though, Trista was smiling again, all teeth and happiness.

Trista tossed the book back onto the cot. “Are you about ready?”

“Let me change shirts.” Ellyssa went behind a screen and pulled on a different black T-shirt. She tucked the hem in around her waist and stepped toward the door.

“So, no more guards?” she asked as Trista joined her in the tunnel. Even though Ellyssa had only been escorted through the passageway once, she walked with confidence.

“I don’t think so. I overheard Jordan telling Woody it was ridiculous to treat you like a prisoner.”

“Are they changing where I sleep?”

Ellyssa sidled into the dark corridor that led into the generator room. The cool air settled on her skin.

“Not yet. Have you seen the holeys?”

Ellyssa shook her head.

“They suck. You should wish they let you stay here. At least you’re off the ground.”

“You sleep on the ground?”

Trista looked at her as if the answer was obvious. “Did you think all of us had our own rooms with cots and such?”

“I’ve not really thought about it at all,” Ellyssa responded, proud how easily the words were rolling off her tongue. She rounded a bend. Humming emitted from ahead. She stepped into the generator room with Trista following and entered the tunnel leading into the dining area.

“We live in little holes, like little grey moles.”

Ellyssa smiled at the dry humor.

“You think I’m kidding?” Trista asked.

“No.”

“It’s awful. You wait and see.”

They stepped into the empty room. The long benches rested on top of the wooden tables. Two people with olive-colored skin washed the counter where the food was distributed. They looked up when Ellyssa and Trista entered, and nodded a greeting before continuing with their chore.

Trista pulled on Ellyssa’s sleeve. “This way.” She moved in front. “Jordan’s not doing well,” she continued in a whisper, her cheerful demeanor disappearing in a whiff. It amazed Ellyssa how Trista could cycle through emotions so quickly.

“When I went to wake him this morning, he was wheezing and coughing more than usual.” She turned to face Ellyssa, her expression downcast and her eyes worried. “His lips were blue.”

Ellyssa’s forehead crinkled in concern. “Is he doing better now?”

“Once I got him standing, his lungs cleared and his color returned, but I wouldn’t say he is actually doing better.”

Trista started off again, heading down a different tunnel that opened into a magnificent room. Rows of long, thick columns jutted from floor to ceiling in spiraling towers. Minerals sparkled under the yellow lights that swung between the pillars.

Trista stopped where the light faded into a tunnel. Voices carried from a room ahead. Some were loud, others were normal; all carried urgency.

“This is the main hall, where we have our meetings. Everyone is in attendance,” she warned.

Ellyssa had expected the Renegades to have more of a problem with her than she would with them. She forced her lips into a fake smile, and shrugged. Shrugging said a lot.

Quietly, they entered the back of the room. People filled the benches, facing away from the newcomers. Jordan sat in the front on a natural platform. He was slumped over, and under the fluorescent lights, his skin appeared waxen.

Woody stood next to him, his arm around the older man’s shoulders. His ash-blond hair fell loosely around his head. Worry lined his features, cutting deep around his eyes. He tilted his chin to Ellyssa, then leaned closer to Jordan’s ear. As he whispered, the dark man’s eyes shifted toward her, and a tired smile lifted his cheeks. Jordan motioned for her to come closer. A collage of Renegades pivoted their heads toward her, their faces holding a mix of distrust and confusion.

Mumbling lifted in the air, followed by laughter when a musical voice said, “Bitch.”

Ellyssa saw Candy sitting in the first row next to Jason. She hadn’t seen the fiery redhead since the day in the dining room, which was fine with her. Ellyssa ignored Candy’s narrowed gaze and Jason’s lustful eyes, which had swept up from her feet and stopped at her chest. She stepped onto the platform next to Woody.

Jordan tried to rise to his feet, but Ellyssa shook her head. Upon closer inspection, he looked worse than she had first realized. His brown skin was shaded grey, his dreads fell limp, and his lips were tinged blue. Even though tiredness clung to him, dragging him down, his chocolate eyes still held humor.

Other books

Self-Made Scoundrel by Tristan J. Tarwater
The Outcast by Sadie Jones
DESIGN FOR LOVE by Murray, Bryan
Feather Boy by Nicky Singer