“What are you doing, Hiamovi?” Abby demanded.
“He knows, Abby. He recognized me,” Hiamovi replied. “It’s over anyway, we’re getting you out of here.”
“What the hell is going on, Abby?” Derrick finally asked as tears formed in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Derrick,” Abby repeated. “I never meant for it to end like this.”
“But it is,” Hiamovi interrupted. He was quite happy that Abby’s relationship with Derrick was no longer necessary, and he didn’t care how Derrick felt about it like Abby did. “And just as well, your whole relationship was fake, just part of a ruse.”
“Fuck you!” Derrick yelled.
“No, fuck you!”
“Hiamovi, let’s just go,” Abby insisted.
“And fuck you too, Abby! You and your fucking terrorist boyfriend!”
“Don’t talk to her like that, asshole!”
“Hiamovi! Let’s go!”
Abby was trying to defuse the situation, fearing the two young men, both armed and angry, might carry their argument too far and lead to violence. She took Hiamovi’s hand in hers, and he finally seemed to listen to her as he took a step back.
Relieved that the altercation was ending, Abby turned to say goodbye to Derrick, but the words died in her throat when she caught a nasty gleam in his eye.
“Wait, so he actually is your boyfriend?” Derrick asked. “Well if your real relationships are anything like your fake ones, he’s a lucky guy.”
“Shut it, Derrick! We’re leaving,” Abby said and she spun around and made for the back door, but Hiamovi lingered behind, still pointing his gun at Derrick.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked Derrick.
“Nothing, now come on,” Abby insisted.
“Oh, it was a bit more than that,” Derrick said, smiling now. “I’m just saying that if you put that kind of passion into meaningless, fake sex with a fake boyfriend, I’d love to see what—”
“I said shut the fuck up!” Abby interrupted. She spun around on her heel and drew her own handgun.
“What are you gonna do, Abby? Blow me away like you did that old man the other day?”
Abby bit hard into her lip, drawing a spot of blood, and a low growl escaped her throat. “Don’t you fucking push me,” she replied.
“Abby, what is all this?” Hiamovi asked.
“Yes, Abby, what is all this?” Derrick mocked. “Why does your boyfriend seem surprised by your active sex life and killer instinct?”
“You wanna see a killer instinct, motherfucker? I swear to God I will—”
“Abby!” Hiamovi interrupted.
Abby snapped her gaze over to Hiamovi. He was staring at her, his sable eyes a dark fog of disbelief, anger, and sorrow. The question was there in his eyes, but Abby couldn’t find the courage to say what she needed to.
Nor did she have the chance. Despite his own emotions, Derrick was still a highly trained DAS agent, and the instant that neither Abby nor Hiamovi were watching him he drew his concealed sidearm and fired two rounds.
Hiamovi and Abby both caught Derrick’s movement in their peripheral vision. They ducked, scrambled for cover, and returned fire, forcing Derrick to dive for cover himself behind the counter. The few patrons still in the diner all hid under tables or pressed themselves into corners as Abby and Hiamovi fired over Derrick’s position, pinning him down as they fled into the kitchen and out the back door, turning right.
But Derrick was right behind them, and he fired a round at them just as the back door closed. He rushed for the door, tore it open, and followed Abby and Hiamovi, just catching a glimpse of them as they disappeared around another corner.
Both Abby and Hiamovi knew they had to split up to lose Derrick. “Alpha-echo niner!” Hiamovi yelled, telling Abby to meet him at a prearranged location. They came out into a busy street, flooded with foot traffic, and turned opposite ways. Derrick was just a couple seconds behind them, and when he saw that they had split up, he chose to follow Abby, and he sprinted after her.
Abby ran down the sidewalk for a block and then pivoted to turn into an alleyway so suddenly that she almost came out of her shoes. Derrick had gained ground by now and was just a few beats behind.
Looking ahead, Abby saw that a tall, chain-link fence stood between her and the other end of the alley. But this hardly slowed Abby down as she jumped up at the wall right next to the fence, pushed off with her foot, and grabbed the top of the fence, hauling herself up and over it in a matter of seconds. She rolled as she dropped to the other side and kept going.
The fence posed a bit more of a problem for Derrick, but not much. He lunged at the fence and climbed it with ease, then he too cleared the top of the fence and continued his chase.
Abby sprinted out into the next street and crossed to the other side, heading for a tall apartment building in which she hoped to lose Derrick. But he was fast, faster and stronger now that he was fueled by a burning fury. Abby reached the door to the building just as someone on the inside opened. She shoved the man aside and pushed into the lobby, heading for the stairs.
Derrick was just a moment behind her. He barreled through the doorway and looked around for Abby. He saw the door to the stairwell click shut and hurried that way.
Derrick raced into the stairwell in time to hear another door two or three floors above him click as it swung shut. He leaped up the stairs, taking them three or four at a time, and was forced to guess through which door Abby had gone.
He went up to the third floor, pushed the door open, and flung himself out into the hallway. Abby was about two-thirds of the way down the hall, jogging backwards for a moment so she could watch the stairwell.
“Oh come on!” she yelled as she turned to continue her sprint. She reached the window at the end of the hall that led to the fire escape, forced it open, and climbed outside with Derrick still on her heels. Wasting no time with the stairs, Abby leapt from her third-story position, hit the ground with a forward roll, and continued running.
Derrick was able to do the same maneuver, albeit slightly less graceful, and in a second he was back on the hunt.
Abby’s strength was failing. She hadn’t eaten in two and a half days, and had maybe a couple hours’ worth of sleep in that time. Her heart was pounding inside her chest like a tremendous jumping bean. She needed to end the chase and get away soon, or Derrick would catch her. She crossed the street again, heading for a new alleyway, formulating a desperate plan in her head along the way. She darted into the narrow corridor, which had an opening into another alley to her right.
Turning right, Abby went deeper into the alley and saw it ended in a T-intersection. Taking a left turn at the end of this one, there she saw what she needed: a weapon of opportunity. Not something that would kill Derrick, of course, but it would probably suffice to knock him unconscious.
She skidded to a halt and seized a blackened, rusty 55-gallon drum. The bottom quarter or so of it was filled with ashes, meaning it had probably served as a burn barrel in the past, keeping some poor homeless folks warm at night.
She could hear Derrick’s footsteps approaching fast. Abby heaved on the barrel, dismayed to find that it was even heavier than she had expected. Without looking, hoping her timing was perfect, Abby turned and whipped the barrel around just as Derrick turned the corner.
If he had been a heartbeat slower, Derrick would have caught the barrel in the face and been knocked to the ground. But he had just time enough as he turned the corner to see the barrel coming. He was moving so fast that the only way to dodge was to throw his upper half backwards as his legs kept going, throwing him off balance. He hit the ground butt and back first as the barrel swung through the air above him.
Abby dropped her improvised weapon and kicked at Derrick’s head, knowing now that she would have to fight him hand-to-hand. Derrick swatted her leg aside and leapt up from the ground directly onto his feet as he and Abby squared up to each other.
It was a s
trange fight, full of hesitations and missed opportunities. Up to that very morning, both Abby and Derrick had been lovers, and now it was revealed to Derrick that they were in fact enemies in a war. This internal conflict manifested itself in their fight, as they stopped a punch in mid-flight here, or backed off for a second there.
But in less than a minute, Abby found herself nearing complete exhaustion as she grappled with Derrick. He shoved her off of him and then kicked her, knocking her straight back into a wall. He stepped forward to follow with a punch but Abby used the forward momentum from bouncing off the wall to throw herself into a roll, ending up behind Derrick. She turned and swept his legs out from under him, knocking him to the ground.
This was her last chance to end the fight and escape, Abby knew. The instant Derrick hit the ground, she wrapped her right arm around his throat, getting under his chin, and pushed on the back of his head with her left hand, trying to black him out with a blood choke.
She hooked her legs around his lower body, trying to further entrap him. Then she leaned back, bending Derrick backwards to make the choke more effective, and squeezed with every muscle in her body.
On another day, this might have worked. But Abby was spent, weak from hunger, and didn’t have her heart in this fight. Derrick grabbed at her arms to pull her away from his throat, but when that didn’t work, he twisted his body as much as he could and began to drop heavy, strong elbows into Abby’s ribs.
Abby grunted when the first one hit her, then again when the second one landed. When she felt Derrick’s elbow slam into her exposed side for the third time, her exhausted body betrayed her. She yelped and loosened her hold, just enough for Derrick to pry her arm out from around his throat. He turned around and shoved Abby to the ground, escaped her legs, and mounted himself on top of her. That’s when he drew his gun and shoved it up against Abby’s throat with his finger wrapped around the trigger.
Abby and Derrick sat still for several seconds, their only movements being the heaving of shoulders as they labored for breath. They were locked on each other’s eyes, waiting for what they did not know. The adrenaline was wearing off now, and Abby could hardly feel the barrel of the gun pressed against her soft, pale throat. Derrick meanwhile was shaking, and not just from exhaustion.
“Was all of it really fake?” he whispered.
Abby closed her eyes for a moment as she chose her words, a difficult task given her current mental state. When she reopened them, she could feel fresh tears beginning to form. “I never meant to get in this deep,” she replied. “I thought you were a snobby, pampered kid that’d get bored of me in a month. But I was so wrong about you.”
“That makes two of us.”
“You were kind, thoughtful, caring, and understanding. That part of me that you knew, the DAS agent that spent almost every day with you… she fell in love with you. It drove the rest of me nuts and I tried to ignore it, but it happened. And that’s the truth.”
“Why? Why did you betray us?”
“I can’t betray a group I never truly joined.”
“So you were a spy from the beginning?”
Abby nodded her head.
Derrick was silent for a time, and with every tick of the second hand Abby expected him to pull the trigger.
But he stood up abruptly and holstered his pistol. With his hands on his hips he stood looking up at the grey, gloomy sky. He then extended a hand down to Abby, who hesitated before taking it. He helped her up to her feet as a gesture of kindness, but just as his feelings were conflicted so too were his actions. As soon as Abby was on her feet he let go of her hand and seized her by the throat, shoving her up against the wall and drawing yet again his pistol and holding it to her head.
“You’re a terrorist,” he whispered, more to himself than to Abby. “You’re working with the bastards who killed my mom. I have to take you back to be arrested.”
“You know I won’t go with you,” Abby replied.
“Then I guess I have to kill you.”
“Do what you have to, Derrick.”
He paused. Tears welled up in his bright blue eyes and blazed paths down his cheeks. “I loved you, Abby. I really loved you.”
“I know. And I’m so sorry,” Abby whispered. She didn’t know what else she could say.
Derrick drew in a deep breath, his hands shaking. For a moment Abby thought he would finally do it, but all at once he released her and tossed his gun aside. The clank of metal hitting concrete was the only noise in the alley as Derrick stepped away from Abby and they exchanged stares.
“This is the only chance I’m giving you,” he said after a prolonged silence. He ran a forearm across his cheeks to dry up the tears before continuing. “Please, just get the hell out of here, out of this city. Because if I see you again… I’ll treat you like any other terrorist.”
“Okay,” Abby responded.
With that, Derrick walked away to retrieve his sidearm. Abby watched him stoop down to retrieve it, but he hesitated.
Instead of his gun, he picked up a small, dark box. After a moment of confusion, Abby remembered that Derrick had almost proposed to her last week. He must have been carrying the ring around with him all week until it fell out of his pocket during their fight.
“Take it,” he said, tossing the box to Abby. “You took everything else from me, anyway.”
Derrick picked up his gun and holstered it, then continued down the alleyway, toward the open street ahead. Just before turning the corner he stopped, and he looked back at Abby one last time. She stood still in the same spot, her back against the wall, the ring box in her hands, and her sad, grey eyes watching him. He sighed as tears stung his eyes once more, and then he left.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
As soon as Derrick left, Abby remembered that she had to meet Hiamovi at one of their secret locations. She slipped the ring box into her cargo pocket and hurried from the alleyway in the opposite direction that Derrick had gone, looking around to find out where she was. Once she got her bearings, she walked as quickly as she could in her condition towards the meeting spot.
She found Hiamovi sitting at an old, disused bus stop, bent over as he scrawled something onto a piece of paper resting on his knee. He looked up at Abby as she approached, anger flashing across his face.
Abby sat down next to him, prompting him to scoot away from her. “Took you a long time,” he muttered.
“I had to escape,” Abby replied. She pointed at the piece of paper on his knee and asked, “What’s that?”
“I was drawing you a map of where we’re gathering, in case you didn’t show.”
Abby paused and said, “What if someone else found it? Isn’t it kind of risky to put that on paper?”
“I’m not fucking stupid, Abby,” Hiamovi snapped. He sighed and said, “You’d have to know the starting place to use the map, and only you and I know the place I picked. It’d be useless to anyone but you.”
“Oh,” Abby replied, looking down at the ground. “That’s a good—”
“You know, I-I just… I just have two questions,” Hiamovi interrupted, standing up and putting his hands on his hips. “And whatever you answer, I want you to know that I will accept it as ironclad truth. Because if you ever even gave a single shit about me, Abby, and I believe you once did, you’ll tell me the truth.”
“We’re both wanted people, Hiamovi,” Abby said. “Can we do this when we’re safe somewhere else?”
“No, I’d rather do this now.”
“Okay,” said Abby as she too stood up, clasping her hands together in front of her.
Hiamovi licked his lips and asked, “Did you sleep with him?”
“I think you already—”
“Say it!”
Abby sighed, dropping her gaze to the ground. But she looked back into Hiamovi’s eyes to answer, “Yes.”
Hiamovi only nodded, receiving the answer he had expected. “And, uh, when were you planning on telling me?”
Abby hesitated,
quickly thinking of a lie. She could tell him that she was planning on it the moment they were safely hidden with the rest of the ReFounding Fathers. That might buy her some little hint of forgiveness
But the pause made Hiamovi worry. His expression darkened. “You… you were going to tell me, weren’t you?”
Abby opened her mouth to tell him the story she’d concocted, but the pained look on his face swept away all her guile. No, she was done lying to Hiamovi. She loved him. Even if a tiny part of her that got way too deep undercover had loved Derrick too, that part was gone. Her heart overwhelmingly belonged to Hiamovi. Her lips quivered and she closed her eyes, steeling herself. When she opened them again, tears fell like leaves on a windy autumn day.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No.”
“No,” Hiamovi parroted. He staggered backwards like a man who’d been shot. “How could… just… ”
Words failed him. He gave a fake chuckle, the kind a person does when they are overwhelmed with emotion and can do aught else but force a laugh. Tears stung his eyes and he said, “I need to be alone right now. Use that map to find your way to the hide-out, it’s easy to follow.”
“Hiamovi, wait!” Abby pleaded. “Please don’t leave me. When we get to the rendezvous point, I promise to give you space and leave you alone, but I really need you right now. Everything’s gone wrong and I need you. Please don’t leave me alone here.”
“I… I don’t care,” Hiamovi responded, shrugging his shoulders. “Inevitably I’ll see you later, but right now I-I… I just have to get away from you.”
Then he sauntered away.
“Hiamovi!” Abby called after him, but he didn’t stop or even turn.
***
Abby remained by the derelict bus stop for several more minutes, long after Hiamovi had passed out of sight. She wanted to go somewhere else, to be far away from that spot, but her legs refused to move. Every part of her life was spinning out of control, and now it seemed like she could not even control her own body.
Finally, Abby found herself wandering through the city. And that’s the best way to describe it because she did not remember leaving the bus stop. It was like one of those dreams were suddenly you find yourself in the midst of all the action, and you don’t know how you got there. Nor did Abby know where she was going. She just kept walking until much later in the day, when she collapsed on the sidewalk, her body weak from exhaustion and hunger. She managed to pull herself up and lean back against the brick building there, but that was it.
His Name Was Zach (Book 2): Her Name Was Abby Page 39
