Silenced (20 page)

The buzz of the front gates lock mechanism. The squeal as the gates open to let our convoy through. My hearing doesn’t sharpen until those gates close behind us.

I feel the weight of not being behind those gates.

A slight sting digs into my neck.

“Ah!” I raise my hand to inspect. Cool metal digs into my wrists. I jerk both my arms. I’ve been cuffed to my seat. “Fuck is this?” I spray saliva everywhere. Before I can go off, I sink into a hole of Arctic pain. The pain jabs at me. Into my sides. I twist in my seat, my vision clouding, my thoughts rush from here to there.

“I’m sorry,” Kiwi says in a hushed voice.

“What did you inject me with?” I squeeze my armrests until my knuckles start to cramp. I try and turn my head. I try…

Kiwi leans over me and places a rectangular device in front of me, and then taps the screen.

I blink, trying to focus my eyes on her. “You dosed me with monkshood? Why?”

Her answer fizzles out under the weight of the burning under my skin. I open my mouth. My throat burns. Agony.

Colonel Jax flickers onto the screen. His baldhead and trench coat flicker a few seconds before they sharpen.

My eyes widen. What is this?

“Hello, Mr. Richards,” he whispers.

My mouth twists down, hard.

“Now that this mission is active, I just wanted to tell you a few things I neglected.” He leans back, and a table comes into view. “One, the tracker in your neck will release a surprise into your blood should you decide to go off mission.” He smiles. “And last.” He lifts his hand and waves forward someone off screen.

Two buzz cuts appear at his side. They wrangle with a smaller, flailing form. Jax stands. Sadie’s face, lips twisted in defiance, takes his place.

My mouth gapes. What is this? Something bad. Something…

Colonel Jax lifts a needle. Sadie’s head is slammed down, and the screen slows.

“No! No!” My voice thunders out of me. I jerk against the restraints, snapping the left one. “You motherfuckers!”

He lifts her head. Her eyes are gone, turned to blind, white marbles.

“She’s infected. The virus was taken from one of the tamer specimens. The ones we can most likely salvage.” He grins again. “Toe the line, Mr. Richards. Sadie needs you to remember where you stand.”

I slam my head into the tablet. The glass spider webs, then goes blank. For several moments, I sit in stunned silence.

“Juliet,” I say, my tone like the edge of a razor. “You knew about this?”

She turns from where she’s seated beside Tripp. “Yes.”

Evil fucking Enforcer bitch. My nostrils flare. I shut my eyes. I don’t want to look at her.

With my eyes still closed, I say, “Give me the key.”

Her movements feel like coals being tossed on top of me. With each one, I burn with more hatred. She undoes one of my wrists. The key clanks down on the table in front of me. I force my eyes open, snatch the key, and release my other wrist.

The herbal infusion has burned out of my blood

Remember where you stand, I recall his words and almost smile.

I’m sorry, Kiwi’s words jab back at me.

Without looking at, her I say, “Why did you do it?” I remember Juliet’s orders to Tripp.

Take this to Ms. Grunder.

The enclosed space goes still, apart from the occasional intake of breath. A cleared throat. After I wait for an answer longer than I should have to, I make myself look at Kiwi. Each muscle in my neck pinches.

Kiwi just swipes her bang behind her ear and stares ahead. From the driver seat, Tripp sighs.

“Tell him, Kiwi,” he says.

She doesn’t say anything. Coward. I almost laugh at her. Then, an alarm blares. My gaze darts forward. Scornful orange light fills my vision. Another boom. Another lurch, and tires screech to the side of the road right before we roll over.

From inside the car, Tripp moves fast. Flips a few switches. A rush of air and a
clank clank clank
sound drown out our grunts and curses. The hydraulics force the vehicle right side up. We sway, then sink into the ground. The clack of the 16-guage steel panels adds a second shield to the bombproof coating.

The next collision rocks us, but the ole girl stands her ground. A monitor mounted to the middle dash up front lets us witness the fire and lightning storm. Bolts of silver stab the dead landscape. The sky spits wrecking balls off fire to the ground.

The gods are rumored to be back, Kenya had told me before the Presenting.

Looks like they aren’t happy. They aren’t happy for several moments. I go back to ticks. It’s seventy-two ticks later that the orbs of fire get sucked back into the sky.

Tripp wipes his forehead. His face is flushed in the rear view as he flips the switches again. The panels shutter back into their slots. I gaze out the window and sink into my seat like a deflated doll.

The engine roars, and we swing back onto the road.

Snapshots of hell roll by, and something in me falls away. I thought I had seen bad before I went into hiding. Riots and herds of fear on every TV screen. On every social site. Commercial airplanes crashing. Executions going viral.

But that was not bad. Not displayed beside this. This is the world I left sucked into itself and spat back out into wastelands.

Blackened pools of water. Billowing smoke without fire. Bodies piled into formations that should be impossible.

“Goddess help us,” Kiwi mutters.

I pull my gaze and stare ahead. Sadie’s eyes bob in my memory. I grip the sides of my seat. I’m angry with Kiwi for her cowardice. Angry at Colonel Jax for using Sadie to control me. And, most of all, angry at myself for not protecting her.

Remember where you stand, Mr. Richards.

I swallow. Inside my head, I nod at him. I take his advice. I remember.

I remember the cursed monster. Remember him well. I tried to be something else for her. For Sadie. A father figure. In my head, I laugh.

I can’t be that for her.

In this world, I am her monster. In this world, that is a good thing.

I rock forward as the vehicle slows. My thoughts release Colonel Jax, then I peer through the front window. A low-sitting, rust-kissed gate rolls into view. We stop behind the first car in the convoy. I purse my lips, realizing I have no idea how long we’ve been driving.

“This is our first check point. Twenty minutes.” Juliet pushes open her door, and Kiwi and Tripp follow suit.

I hang back, open my door slowly, and then step out.

I glance up. Dots of feathery red lace thread through the sky.

I follow the others. As I near the gate, I notice the copper remains of a train in the foreground on what’s left of a track.

I linger behind Tripp and Kiwi, who stand near four others, part of the support team I don’t know. Up in front, Juliet speaks to a big ass dude. With a big ass gun. And a big ass, salt-sprinkled beard.

My eyes swing back to the four unknowns. Two of the three men have buzz cuts, Enforcers. The more scarred up buzz cut probably wrangles on the side. I remember their names are Jameson and Stein. Don’t remember when I acquired that info, but I’m pretty sure I’m right.

“Alright, everyone. This is Roscoe,” Juliet’s voice rings out.

I glance ahead. His beefy fingers wave.

“Good. Good to see yins.” He waves us forward. “Come on in while we get yah supplies packed in for yins.”

I grin. Dude sounds like he used to spend time four wheeling for beer.

As the buzzcut’s turn and unlock the gate, Tripp mutters, “Not this time. This deserves an explanation.”

His feet pound away, crunching black gravel as he goes.

“Hm.” I stroll by Kiwi without a glance. “Trouble in loon town?”

I pass through the gate. Roscoe points out the bathroom. A blue porta shitter perches near a ruined, three story concrete building.

People saunter in between plywood structures that serve as homes and makeshift flea market style stands, wrapped in strange combinations of clothing. One woman adorns what looks like a duct tape suit. Another, some young guy, wears a dark Harley helmet and a poncho.

I hit the porta shitter after one of ours, the Asian I now remember from the Presenting, and study the wall.

Symbols are written in heavy, black marker. All kinds, from crosses to pentagrams. As I zip up, I see something from the old world. A small set of boobs.

I laugh and turn to step out. I almost run right into Juliet, who has a little old white lady in her grasp. My eyes narrow.

“This is the last chance you’ll get,” Juliet says. “You’ll need the strength.”

I grin. “I can funnel a little from you at a time.”

She nods at me, then at her offering from the Golden Girls. “Susan.” She turns back to me. “Eat fast, we leave in five minutes. You’re driving to the next check point.”

I shake my head, then hold my hand toward Susan. “Pike.”

“
Pfah
.” She waves me off, grabs my hand, and then pulls me into an embrace.

I go rigid, glancing around toward a chorus of feet shuffling and doors banging shut. I’m about to politely remind her about personal space, when she releases me.

She peers up at me with blue eyes that make me miss the old sky.

She smiles, then lets out an even sigh. “Father, can you grant me absolution?”

She blinks at me, and for a moment, it looks like she’s holding her breath. I swallow something thick. Something human when I realize she has no idea who she is. What I am.

My mouth opens. I almost tell her the truth, but why bother? I take her hands in mine.

“What’s your confession, Susan?”

She darts her eyes left, takes in a shuddering breath before her gaze locks onto mine.

“My lack of faith… My cowardice, it got my grandchildren k-k-killed.” Her features drop, shoulders trembling in quiet grief.

A horn honks. I jump, and then fire a glare over at the convoy as something pinches in my chest. I stopped breathing. With an inhale, I peer back down at Susan.

Her eyes are wide. “Will you grant me absolution?”

I nod and rush a cross in front of her. Her eyes close, features relaxed. As I lean in to place my lips close to her ear, I try to stamp down the human thing in my chest that felt for her.

I try not to see a little old lady.

It’s almost too easy.

I pucker my lips and whistle. I gulp down her need, and then let her drop to the ground.

Thud.

As I trudge back to the car, I catch a glimpse of Kiwi wincing. With a smile, I waggle my fingers at her. The skin around her eyes tightens. Her mouth screws up with attitude. Then, she squeezes her eyes closed and shuts the passenger side door.

It feels good to drive again. So good that I take over the next two driving shifts. I tap my fingers on the wheel as I zip this bad bitch through the remains of Tennessee. The only thing that would make it better would be music.

Damn, I miss my smart phone.

I click my tongue because it’s too damn quiet. After a while, I start to study my surroundings. It’s not all bad. Stars salt the night sky as I pull up to a row of concrete barriers with a sprinkling of armed guards.

“Stop,” Juliet says from the back.

I tap the brake and put it in park.

“Give me a moment,” Juliet says, opening her door and sliding out. The door slams closed. She passes across the front of the car and saunters toward an approaching guard.

“This place looks familiar,” Kiwi mutters, her voice rough.

“It’s the old University of Tennessee,” Tripp says.

I nod as I glance around, about to remark on how well it’s kept, when a blur of movement stops the small talk. Juliet waves us forward.

Slowly, we all grab our shit, then stagger out of the cramped car. I slide on my pack as I trail Tripp and Kiwi toward the guard, who mumbles a name into his walkie-talkie.

Crackle.

“I’m on my way,” a distorted, female voice says from the walkie-talkie.

The guard, a short tan guy with no neck, gestures with his gun at a security booth.

“You all are clear with Gus up at the booth. The doctor will be up to fetch you shortly.” He nods at us, then strolls back to his post.

Juliet faces us. “You all go ahead. I’ll join you as soon as I can.” Her trademark polite smile stretches her lips, then she walks around us and back toward the convoy.