Reckoning (New Haven Book 2)

by Sara Jo Cluff

  Santiago nodded. “They were prepared for us, no question about that.”

  “You think now is the best time?” Dante asked. “We have so much training to do.”

  I sat forward, resting my arms on my legs. “I know, but I think this is pressing. I was thinking we could have Naomi and Derek run the tests while we’re training. We’ll just cycle all the residents through.” I didn’t relish the thought of Derek doing it, but he was our tech guy.

  “Can we trust Naomi and Derek?” Santiago asked.

  “We’ll give them the test first,” I said. “We can have Joshua show us how to use it. Maybe I can have my dad sit in there, too.”

  Dante nodded. “I think we should do it.”

  “Do you think the residents will get mad?” Maya asked. “We all came here to be free and the first thing we do is question everyone?”

  I tucked my hair behind my ear. “They might, but I’m not sure if we have a choice right now. Time isn’t on our side.”

  “If we all do it, the president, the vice president, and the four of us included,” Santiago said, motioning to us, “they might be more willing.”

  “Hopefully they’ll understand that we’re doing this for their protection.” Dante smiled. “Plus, we’ll know to keep our eyes on whoever gets the most upset.”

  “I’ll get the machine from Joshua and take this to the president and vice president,” I said. “If they agree, we’ll start with them and Joshua, then all of us, then Derek and Naomi and go from there.”

  “What are you going to ask everyone?” Maya reached out and rubbed her leg, wincing in the process.

  Dante scratched his head as he sat back in his chair. “Easy. Are you an enemy?”

  “Can we trust you?” I said.

  “Should I take you out back and beat the living crap out of you?” Santiago said, swinging a few punches into the air. I liked that one the best.

  “All we need to know is if they’re on our side,” I said. “We’re not going to be asking personal questions about their lives. I just want to know if they’ve been lying to us and have leaked any information that can compromise New Haven.”

  Santiago snapped his fingers. “They should be in and out in no time.”

  Maya slowly swung her legs over the edge of her bed. “Well, let’s get going then.”

  “Should we do something at the end of our meetings?” Dante asked. “Like some type of chant or high five? Something to unite us?”

  Santiago nodded. “I like the idea. My trainer and I would say a little prayer before each boxing match. It cleared my head and got me focused on the task at hand.” Santiago held out his hands to Dante and Maya. They each took one of his hands and then both took one of mine, and we all closed our eyes.

  Santiago took a deep breath. “Lord, give us the strength to carry out our mission. Help us to keep our eyes clear and focused, our hearts full and open, so we can win this battle for New Haven. Amen.”

  Santiago and I helped Maya stand. She wobbled a little, but then steadied herself. Dante came in close, putting his arm around Santiago’s and my shoulders. I put my arm around Dante’s and Maya’s shoulders, and she followed suit by putting her arms around my and Santiago’s shoulders. We leaned in close, our foreheads touching.

  “For New Haven,” Dante said, his voice excited.

  “For New Haven,” Maya and I said at the same time.

  “For New Haven!” Santiago shouted.

  The wings from the butterfly were pressed deep into my skin, my fist fastened tight around it.

  By some miracle, I found Emmie’s necklace on the ground as I dragged by two men toward the cave. The butterfly and the twine holding it were brown, making it almost impossible to see in the dirt. My window of opportunity to grab it was mere seconds, but it ended up in my hand.

  It had all happened so fast. As I fought with one man, another approached from the back, but there was nothing I could do. He jammed the butt of his gun into my head, sending me to the ground. I tried to get back up, but the man I had been fighting with slammed his foot down on my right arm, pinning me down as the other man grabbed my left arm.

  After they pulled me to my feet, Emmie got knocked down. Mack appeared behind her, shooting her attacker in the head. As the man’s lifeless body fell to the ground, Mack took Emmie’s unconscious body and slung it over his shoulder, carrying her away.

  Another man headed toward Mack and Emmie with his gun raised, so I shouted as loud as I could and thrashed my body all around. The two men holding me kept their grip firm, but it was enough to distract the man about to shoot Mack.

  Mack noticed, shot the other man, and took off running, shouting for everyone else from New Haven to retreat. Mack gave me one fleeting glance and I nodded, telling him they had to leave.

  I continued to throw my body around, yelling and kicking as much as I could. Another man approached, his gun pointed at my head, his finger on the trigger. He was about to pull it when I heard a shout.

  “We take him alive!” Footsteps approached from behind and the person the voice belonged to stepped into view. Dean Johnson. “The president wants him alive.” He glared at me. “For now.”

  Dean motioned for his men to fall back and I sighed in relief knowing my comrades had escaped. That my Emmie had escaped.

  They took me underground below Infinity Corp's headquarters and threw me in a small, concrete room. A mirror resided on one wall and I was certain they were watching me through the other side. Dean and a few of his men had each taken a go at me, beating me to try to get information. But it hadn’t worked.

  Hours had passed. My feet and hands were bound, so I couldn’t move from the cold floor. A few of my ribs were broken, along with my nose. My left eye was swollen shut. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth from where they had knocked out a tooth.

  There went my perfect smile.

  I held tightly onto Emmie’s necklace and pictured her beautiful face in my mind. I closed my eyes and concentrated on her green eyes, gorgeous smile, and the best set of lips I’d ever seen.

  My hours alone in the room turned into days with a minimal amount of food and water and no sense of hope. I grew weaker, my heart beating slower.

  The door finally opened, and Dean Johnson entered the room. He stood towering above me, puffing out his chest. I didn’t know why he tried to act so manly, showing off his muscles. He wasn’t my type.

  Dean squatted down and grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my head off the ground and toward his face. A strong waft of garlic came out of his mouth when he spoke, making me heave. “I’ll give you one last chance, Greene. You tell us what we need to know, and you’ll live.”

  I’d rather die than tell them anything. I smiled, ignoring the pain from a split in my lip. When I tried to speak, my voice barely came out. My throat stung from lack of water or use in days.

  “What was that?” Dean asked, coming even closer to me.

  I forced the word out. “Never.”

  Dean slammed my head into the ground, causing a throbbing sensation to penetrate my skull. “Wrong answer.” He stood and barked a command at someone. “Inject him.”

  “Are you sure?” The person asked. “We’ve never used this before. We don’t know if it will work or what the side effects will be.”

  “I’m willing to take that risk,” Dean said. “Now do it!”

  When the person approached, I took every ounce of energy I had left and swung my legs under theirs, knocking them to the ground.

  Dean was on top of me quickly, pinning my arms and legs down. “Do it! NOW!”

  A sharp needle pricked my left arm. The pressure of Dean’s body soon left and the two of them retreated from my prison.

  I lay there and waited for the drug to kick in, not knowing what would happen or if I’d survive. Shifting my arms toward my side, I took Emmie’s necklace and put it in my pocket for safekeeping.

  A minute later the door opened, and two people came in. One of them sat
me up and the other held my mouth open, pouring in water. I didn’t even bother to see who the people were, I just drank the water until they pulled away and left me alone again.

  It didn’t take long for the effects of the injection to kick in. My legs started to tingle and go numb until all the feeling left.

  Next, it was my arms. Soon, I couldn’t move anything below my neck. I still had control of my head and face, but even that seemed limited.

  The room spun, colors swirling in the air. I had a sudden urge to laugh. Once the laughter came, it didn’t stop. I laughed so hard, tears poured down my cheeks.

  I took a few breaths, trying to calm my laughter. Warmth covered my thighs. “Oh, I peed myself!” My stomach hurt from all the laughing. “I peed myself!”

  A loud bang echoed in the room, but I couldn’t move myself to see what had happened. “What was that? Is someone there?” Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I counted each second, waiting for a response, but only silence filled the air. “I know someone’s here. Come out, come out wherever you are.” The laughter boiled back up.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Dean asked.

  “I have no idea,” Mr. Man-who-injected-me said. Bad man.

  Dean “Mr. Bald” Johnson sighed rather loudly. “Bring in a chair and strap him to it.”

  “Yes, sir,” Mr. Man said.

  I could see Mr. Bald’s shoes in front of me. They were ugly. “I don’t like your shoesies. They is ugly.” Suddenly I was lifted into the air. “I’m flying! Can you see this? I’m flying!”

  The room spun at a high speed as my body was turned. “No! Too fast! Slow down!”

  Mr. Man tied a rope around me. Something about his face looked familiar.

  “Do I know you?” I asked Mr. Man.

  “No,” Mr. Man said. His eyes told me he was lying.

  Mr. Bald stood there watching. His head was shiny.

  “Have you ever tried having hair?” I asked Mr. Bald. “You might look prettier.”

  “How in the world are we supposed to get anything out of him when he’s acting like this?” Another man. Lots of men in my room.

  Mr. Man finished tying me up. “It’s supposed to loosen him up. Make him talk.”

  “Talk is fun,” I said.

  The other man came into view. Hey, I knew him! “I know you! You’re Whitty boy!” I frowned. “I don’t like you. You a bad man.”

  “I’m not sure how long this drug will remain in his system, President Randall,” Mr. Man said. “But you should have enough time to get what you need.” Mr. Man left the room.

  “Bye-bye,” I said to Mr. Man.

  Whitty Boy looked at me. His eyes didn’t look happy. “I hear you haven’t been cooperating.”

  I giggled. “Co-op-er-a-ting. Funny word.”

  “What’s your name?” Whitty Boy asked.

  “What’s yours?”

  “I asked you first,” Whitty Boy said.

  “I asked you second.”

  Whitty Boy said a naughty word. “How’s this supposed to help me? Dean, help him out.”

  Mr. Bald hit me in the stomach, but I couldn’t feel it. Mr. Bald glared at me. “The president asked you a question.”

  I wanted to shake my head, but it wouldn’t move very much. “He not president. He bad man.”

  “Well, the bad man asked you a question,” Mr. Bald said. “What’s your name?” When I didn’t answer, he punched me again.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you,” I said. “Stop wasting your energy. Eric is my name.”

  Whitty Boy bent down a little and stared me in the eye. “Can you feel anything?”

  “Nope.” I smiled at him. I liked to smile.

  “So, we can’t even hurt him to get information out of him,” Whitty Boy said. He was talking to the mirror. Silly Whitty Boy. Mirrors can’t talk.

  Mr. Bald went and pouted in the corner.

  “Are you hungry, Eric?” Whitty Boy asked.

  My tummy did seem like it could use food. I think. “I guess.”

  “Would you like some food? Maybe some water?” Whitty Boy asked. “It’ll give you strength.”

  I tried to raise my eyebrows. “Big strength like Mr. Bald?”

  Whitty Boy looked at Mr. Bald and then back at me. “Just like Mr. Bald.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  “Good,” Whitty Boy said. “All you need to do is answer a few questions and then we will get you a nice, warm meal.”

  “What kind of meal?” I didn’t want anything yucky.

  “Steak, potatoes, anything you want,” Whitty Boy said.

  I kept my voice low. “We can’t eat meat in River Springs. We get in big trouble by Infinity Corp.”

  Whitty Boy winked at me. “Then we won’t tell anyone. It’ll be between you and me.”

  “And Mr. Bald,” I pointed out.

  “And Mr. Bald,” Whitty Boy said, nodding.

  “What would you like to know?” I asked.

  “Where’s New Haven located?” Whitty Boy asked.

  I laughed. “In New Haven.”

  I don’t think Whitty Boy liked my answer. His lips pursed. “Is New Haven near water? Near a mountain? Out in the desert?”

  “I not spoze to tell,” I said, making sure to be quiet.

  Whitty Boy squatted so his head was a little below mine. “You can tell me. I’m your friend.”

  “Bad man might be watching,” I said. “They is always watching.”

  “No one is watching,” Whitty Boy said. “Just tell me what the area looks like. Are there trees? Sand? Flowers? Grass?”

  “Okay, I tell you,” I said. “There is a sky. It blue sometimes. Gray other times.”

  “What else?” Whitty Boy asked.

  I opened my mouth, but then closed it. My head shouted to stay silent. Did I trust my head or Whitty Boy? “I see birds sometimes.”

  “Good,” Whitty Boy said. “What kind of birds?”

  “Ones with wings,” I said. “They can fly! So can I. I’m a birdy.”

  Whitty Boy said another bad word. “Just tell me, Eric! Where is New Haven? Who is helping you?”

  “Everybody helps me,” I said. “Emmie, Mack, Tina, the president.”

  “Who’s your president?” Whitty Boy asked.

  “Mr. President,” I said. Wasn't he listening to me?

  Mr. Bald sighed as he paced in the corner of my room.

  “What’s his name?” Whitty Boy asked. “His first and last name?”

  I smiled at Whitty Boy. “First name Mr. Last name President.”

  “Someone from River Springs is helping you out,” Whitty Boy said. “Who is it? Is it Austin? Luke?”

  My smile left. “Luke not my friend. He always listens to his daddy.”

  “Okay, not Luke,” Whitty Boy said. “What about Austin?”

  “Do you think my legs will always be like this?” I asked. “I can’t feel them. Are they still there?” I looked down and let out a breath. “Oh, good, they still there.”

  “I’m done with this!” Whitty Boy yelled so loud it rang in my ears. He looked at Mr. Bald. “Untie him and take the chair out of the room. Take out Carl, too. His drug didn’t work. His services are no longer needed.”

  “Who’s Carl?” I asked. I didn’t know a Carl.

  “He’s a dead man.” Whitty Boy left the room.

  Mr. Bald came to me and untied me, letting my limp body fall to the floor. He stepped on my arm and turned it funny. I heard a snap but felt nothing.

  “You’ll feel that when you get the feeling back in your body.” Mr. Bald punched me in the jaw and left the room, taking the chair with him.

  The pain from that blow came. I still had some feeling in my face. The room spun again, so I closed my eyes. Emmie’s face showed up and I smiled. She was so pretty.

  My head became heavy and it took a lot of effort to breathe. My heart rate slowed way down. Each intake of breath was tortuous. I had to will myself to breathe. I wasn’t sure why, bu
t I felt the need to stay alive. Every cell in my body screamed for me to let go, but I clung onto life as best as I could. I wasn’t sure how much longer it would last, though.

  I knocked softly on the door to the conference room where President Brown and Vice President Mendes were working out an attack plan for saving New Haven.

  Joshua stood next to me, holding his bag that contained the lie detector test. He was shaking slightly, probably from nerves. His white button-down was untucked, the top button undone, his blue tie loose around his neck. I thought he’d want to change, but he seemed to like that look.

  “Come in,” President Brown said.

  I stepped into the room with Joshua right at my heels. President Brown eyed me and then Joshua.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be leading training?” President Brown asked me. He had ditched his polo and slacks, switching to his military uniform.

  I nodded slowly. “Yes, sir, but I have something I wanted to bring to you. Then I’ll get to training.” My palms were sweating, not sure how my plan would be accepted.

  President Brown pointed at the two chairs to the left of him. Vice President Mendes sat at his right, also in a military uniform.

  I took a deep breath and sat down in the chair next to the president. Joshua sat down next to me, placing his bag on the floor.

  “Make this quick,” President Brown said.

  I had to sell this the best I could. “Sir, my brother Joshua brought something from River Springs that we think will be useful.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been introduced to your brother.” Vice President Mendes stuck out his hand. “I’m Vice President Oscar Mendes.”

  Joshua gave me a sideways glance before he shook the vice president’s hand. “I’m Joshua … Randall.”

  The vice president raised his eyebrows, looking at me. “Your brother from the other side of your family.”

  Even though everything in me wanted to scream that Whit Randall was not my family, I contained myself. “Yes, sir.”

  President Brown narrowed his eyes at Joshua. “Can I ask why you’re here?” He turned his eyes to me. “And why I should trust him?”

  Joshua cleared his throat. “I know, sir, that you should have no reason to trust me. We both know what my father is capable of. But I swear to you, I’m nothing like him and I’m willing to prove it.”