Stuck

by Samantha Durante

  They really believed in what they were doing, she could see that. And she wanted to have faith in Lizzie’s story. She was just so afraid her trust would be misplaced.

  A long moment of silence hung in the air.

  Finally, Janie broke it. “What exactly is Lizzie planning? What does she want us to do?”

  “She’s still got access to the Engineers,” Alex disclosed. “She wants to get your team back on the compound to take them out.”

  Alessa considered for a moment. This might be just the break they needed – rather than setting the Stuck loose in an all-out attack, they could go in quietly and cut off the snake’s head. Alessa could tell from Janie’s intrigued expression that she was thinking the same. But they’d need to discuss it with Isaac and Carlos before they agreed to anything.

  “Very well,” Alessa stated. “We will consider your request. You are dismissed.” Sounding more like Regina than she’d intended to, Alessa realized she certainly hadn’t asked for it, but after somehow falling into the role of liaison for all their potential allies, she’d kind of usurped Carlos to become the rebels’ de facto leader. No wonder he was so cross.

  But as much as she admired Regina, she also knew she didn’t want to lead like her – she wanted to always put people first.

  “Help yourself to food, water, a tent, whatever you need,” she added more solicitously. “We’re glad you came.”

  Deion stood and offered her his hand. “Thank you for hearing us out. And for not letting us get shot.”

  “Or eaten,” Alex added, still clearly preoccupied with Joe.

  Alessa smiled.

  They exited the tent, though not before Deion sent a subtle wink in Janie’s direction, which Alessa was pretty sure she was not supposed to have seen. She considered teasing her sister about it, but when she looked over at her and saw a glow in her face that she hadn’t seen in months, she decided against it. If a little flirting could pull Janie out of her funk, so much the better for it.

  Within moments, the tent flaps parted again, and Isaac walked in, followed by a surly-looking Carlos.

  “So, how’d it go?” Isaac coaxed.

  Carlos just crossed his beefy arms and waited.

  Alessa gave him an apologetic look. She really did respect Carlos – the last thing she wanted to do was alienate him.

  “Lizzie sent them,” Alessa confided.

  “Lizzie made it?” Isaac exclaimed.

  “Lizzie made it,” Janie confirmed.

  Even Carlos looked cheered at this news, though, like the rest of them, conflicted. He sat down at the table across from Alessa, and Isaac joined him. “What does she want?” he asked guardedly.

  Janie broke down what they’d discussed, Alessa filling in the details Janie had missed from the beginning of the conversation. Isaac and Carlos nodded along, taking in Deion and Alex’s story and silently evaluating the merit of Lizzie’s claims.

  “So what do you think?” Alessa directed her question mainly at Carlos in an effort to pacify his bruised ego. After all, he was the expert when it came to military stuff, and he was a solid leader as well – if it was up to her, she’d rather him be in charge anyway, if he wouldn’t be so bellicose.

  He perched his elbows on the table, thoughtful. “I dunno, amigos… I’m not sure I trust Lizzie after everything you told me. I’d still like to use our secret weapons.” He glanced through the tent opening at Joe, who was still loitering around outside.

  “I’m not sure we trust her, either,” Alessa admitted. “But I’m not sure it matters. What if we can utilize the Stuck, but only where we need them? What if we can take Lizzie up on her offer to get at the Engineers, and focus their attack right there? That way we keep the Stuck away from the rest of the citizens, and hit Paragon just where it hurts.”

  Carlos considered for a moment, his head bobbing with thought. “A surgical strike.”

  “Yes,” Alessa replied. She hadn’t known there was a name for it – this is why she needed Carlos. “Exactly.”

  “I like it,” Isaac said.

  “Me too,” Janie concurred.

  “So it’s settled?” Alessa felt a lightness in her chest that she hadn’t all week. “We’ll take Lizzie up on her offer.”

  Carlos stood up, shooting a smile at Alessa that was only half-begrudging; that was an improvement at least. “Let’s see what she can do.”

  42. SPARK

  With a gun pointed at his head, Deion had almost forgotten how hungry he was. Almost. Needless to say, whatever was cooking over the fire smelled divine.

  He helped himself to a bowl from the rebels’ simmering stewpot and eagerly gulped it down, searing his throat in the process, but too ravenous to care. After four days trekking through the woods on nothing but a handful of granola bars and a few carefully rationed sips of water, he barely even noticed the pain.

  Reaching the bottom of his bowl, Deion glanced up and realized Alex was sitting across from him, similarly buried in his dish. Alex looked up only long enough to grunt in satisfaction then went back to his task. Understanding, Deion decided to go help himself to seconds.

  This time as he approached the campfire, he noticed a messy bob of dark brown hair sitting on the logs beside the flames. His stomach twirled in anticipation – and not just for the food.

  Scooping up another spoonful from the pot, Deion said aloud, “I think this is the best meal I’ve ever had.”

  Janie busted out laughing. “Is that so?”

  He just flashed her the empty granola bar packaging from his pocket in response.

  “Ah,” she appreciated. “How long were you guys on the road?”

  “Half a week,” Deion replied through a mouthful of food, easing down onto the rough bark beside her. “Could have been worse.”

  A darkness flashed in Janie’s eyes as she agreed. “Yes, could have been.” She was quiet for a moment before adding. “I remember my first meal after Alessa broke me out of solitary confinement. It was basically gruel, and it was fantastic.”

  Amused – and slightly intimidated – Deion asked, “What’d you do to land yourself in solitary?”

  Janie shrugged. “Kind of comes with the territory.”

  “Occupational hazard for a rebel, I guess.” Deion laughed. “How long were you in for?”

  “Couple months. Could have been worse,” she echoed.

  “So Alessa rescued you?”

  “Well, she is my sister. Plus, she kind of owed me.”

  Now that she said it, Deion could see the resemblance. “Oh! I didn’t realize.”

  “That was why I was on the drama to begin with. She and Isaac got caught, and I infiltrated the show to get them back. But when they left, I had to stay behind. I’m pretty sure the producers didn’t realize I was involved in the rescue, but they’ve learned the hard way to lock us up before the second stitch attempt.” She glanced over towards Joe, who was pacing the far side of the camp. “Sometimes two is all it takes.”

  Deion nodded. “Lizzie was explaining.”

  “So,” Janie continued, her gleaming eyes focused on him in a way that made his heart flutter, “Lizzie filled you in on everything?”

  Mesmerized, he watched the reflected flames dancing in her pupils, and struggled to pull the words from his dazzled brain. “Mmm,” he eventually mumbled in confirmation.

  Embarrassed, he looked away, but he thought he saw Janie smiling before he did.

  Gathering his thoughts, Deion expounded, “Obviously, we knew something was amiss. Alex and I had been friends in high school, since before the outbreak, and our school – a sleepaway prep school – was in the town that they quarantined into Paragon, so we were here from the beginning. We noticed when they started with the drugs in the food, for example. But we never would have imagined…” He shook his head, still dismayed at all Lizzie had revealed. “We’d tried for so long to just keep our heads down and survive. But when we saw what was really happening, we just couldn’t do it anymore.”


  Janie dipped her head in solidarity, clearly identifying with the sentiment. “You can’t really go back once you know. You can’t pretend it’s all okay anymore.”

  “No,” Deion agreed. “You can’t.”

  They were silent for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. But in that moment, Deion felt less alone than he had in, well, forever.

  He was trying to think of what to say next when Janie turned to him, an inquisitive look on her face.

  “So you were there when it all began?”

  Deion was flattered that she cared enough to ask about his past. “Yeah, it was crazy. When the outbreak happened, school had kind of suspended, but we were still living on campus. A lot of the kids went home, but Alex was an exchange student from the East, so he had no choice with air travel prohibited, and my parents told me to stay put because they thought it’d be safer. I come from kind of a rough neighborhood, I was there on scholarship,” he explained. “So we were just hanging out, hoping it’d all blow over so we could leave. But, we never did.”

  Deion sighed, remembering the long days at the library, watching the news in their dorm, worrying about their loved ones. But through it all, he’d never once questioned that someday soon, it would end. He supposed it did end, but not how he was expecting.

  “One day things were normal, then the next, there are military people all over, not just the high school but the college campus, the whole town. TV, internet, phones – everything was down. We were all shuttled to a holding area for a few days, and everyone was examined and questioned. Anyone with a fever or any sign of illness was sent away, I don’t know to where. I’m not sure I want to know… Then pretty soon other people started showing up, they organized us into efficiency units, assigned us jobs, the rest is history.”

  “Wow,” Janie whistled. “And Alex was with you for all that? What about your families?”

  A pang that Deion had long ago buried in his heart bubbled up into a knot in his throat, but he swallowed it back down. “My parents had been calling to check in on me every few days when it started. Then one day, they just stopped.” Deion blinked back tears, whispering, “I don’t know for sure.”

  He stared into the flames, trying to compose himself, surprised when a soft hand wrapped around his own and squeezed. He looked up, his breath catching in his throat at the warm glow cast on Janie’s delicate skin, and the compassion in her large, expressive eyes. She didn’t even have to say a word.

  Deion smiled gratefully, and took a deep breath. “Alex has no idea what happened to his family, either. They’re probably all dead,” he admitted. “But, sometimes, I like to think maybe somehow they got out.” He raised his shoulders and let them drop. It was foolish, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.

  “It never hurts to hope,” Janie said quietly. She paused for a moment, her voice somber when she added, “I wish I had that luxury.”

  It was her turn now to stare into the flames, her face unreadable. She didn’t look as if she wanted to talk about it, but Deion could guess her meaning well enough. His heart clenched.

  He wasn’t sure what exactly came over him then, but something clicked deep inside him, and he knew what he had to do.

  Her hand was still clasped over his own, sending electric sparks tingling through his body. With his other hand, he reached up and grazed his fingers alongside her face, guiding her gaze back to him.

  His heart thudding, he brushed his fingers over her ear – her skin so soft it hurt – and buried his fingertips in her hair.

  Her mouth dropped open in an astonished “o” but she didn’t resist – in fact, she leaned toward him.

  Deion’s heart quickened.

  Scooting forward, he closed the gap between them, dropping his eyes to the tantalizing pillow of her lips.

  But before he could seal the deal, someone called out his name behind him.

  They each turned back to the fire and quickly withdrew their hands to their own laps.

  Catching his breath, Deion stammered, “Uh, over here!” He turned to look behind him in the opposite direction of Janie, too self-conscious to make eye contact; he wondered if her heart was pounding the same intense rhythm as his.

  The sun had set over the course of their conversation, and he could just make out Alessa standing at the other side of the clearing, scanning the picnic tables and open tents.

  “I’m here!” he called again, standing up and waving so she could see him more easily.

  Alessa registered his location and strode over, seemingly oblivious to whatever she’d just interrupted. She did give Janie one curious look before turning her attention back to Deion.

  Nodding toward the empty bowl laying on the ground beside him, she said, “You found something to eat?”

  “Yeah, thanks, it was great,” Deion spluttered, hoping that wasn’t all she’d come over for.

  “Good, good. Alex was telling me about your trip – glad you helped yourselves.”

  Deion bobbed his head in appreciation and looked at her expectantly. The way her eyes smoldered in the firelight reminded him of her sister, and he struggled to focus his thoughts with visions of Janie running rampant through his mind.

  “So,” her voice took on a more serious tenor, “we’ve discussed your offer and we’d like to take you up on it. Can you tell us more about what Lizzie has planned?”

  43. DECEPTION

  These rebels didn’t mess around, Deion had to give them that.

  It hadn’t been even 48 hours since he and Alex had made contact with Lizzie’s offer, and already the strike team was on its way back to Paragon ready to execute their plan.

  And somehow, for reasons unbeknownst to Deion and Alex, they had found themselves included in that team.

  Driving up the overgrown main road towards Paragon’s gates in the official Paragon military vehicle the rebels had somehow procured, Deion glanced down at the Paragon-issued military uniform he had been instructed to wear. Jagged seams at the middle of the left arm and right pant leg had been crudely reattached with rough stitches, and a long gash across the torso of the camouflage jumpsuit – which had also been haphazardly sewn shut – struck directly across a dark, red-brown stain. The rest of the team – Carlos, Alessa, Isaac, Janie, and of course Alex, in this vehicle – was similarly outfitted.

  Deion didn’t really want to think about where exactly these uniforms had come from, but he couldn’t seem to stop his mind from wandering… Especially with the image in his head of Joe cramming his hulking form in the storage compartment below the floorboards, his razor-sharp claws and menacing teeth only a thin sheet of metal away from Deion’s barely-armored flesh.

  They went over a bump, and his arm jostled into Janie, who was sitting next to him on the crowded bench. A flurry of butterflies pirouetted in his abdomen at the momentary convergence of their bodies; that was about the only thing that could get his mind off the suicide mission he’d somehow signed himself up for.

  They rounded a bend, and the high gray walls emerged from the trees, the forbidding, metal-barbed entry gate swimming into view.

  “Everyone ready?” Carlos called out. “It’s go time.”

  Janie caught his eye and gave him a reassuring smile. Like the others – all besides Alex, who was currently gnawing determinedly at his fingernails – she was cool, calm, and collected. It truly did help Deion’s nerves to remember that he was with experienced pros. It was just a bonus that one of them happened to be able to ignite all his senses just by looking at him a certain way.

  If these were to be his last hours on earth, at least he will have spent them alongside this veritable goddess of badassery, he thought, admiring the steely look in her eyes. There were worse ways to go.

  Carlos pulled up to the gate and casually idled the car, the second vehicle carrying the remainder of the strike team sidling in beside them. Receiving a nod from Carlos, Alex opened up the passenger door and approached the comm panel beside the locked gate.

  From his vantage
point inside the vehicle, Deion could just barely hear the conversation crackling over the speaker.

  Alex cleared his throat and pushed the button. “Carrier foxtrot-tango-niner, requesting re-entry.”

  There was a pause, and a moment of static, before the answer came through. “Foxtrot-tango-niner, we have no record of an incoming transport at this hour.”

  “Yep,” Alex groveled, “we had a run-in with some non-friendlies,” he paused to look up at the sentry and point at a particularly bloody section of his sleeve which he’d wrapped a dirty bandage around, “so we’re a bit delayed. You should see us on the schedule for this morning.”

  “One minute,” the guard replied.

  Carlos searched the rearview mirror, scanning the nearby tree line that stood a couple hundred yards back from the walls. “Shit. Where are they? They should be here by now.”

  Deion jumped as a booming hmpf reverberated through the floorboards.

  “They’re close,” Alessa corroborated, closing her eyes. “I can feel them.”

  The speaker crackled to life once again. “Soldier, can you give me that call sign again?”

  Leaning nonchalantly against the wall, Alex buzzed the comm panel once again. “Foxtrot. Tango. Niner,” he enunciated.

  There was a longer pause.

  Alex pressed the button again. “You read me? Foxtrot. Tango. Ni–”

  Suddenly, Alex’s laidback vibe vanished, and he stood up, rigid, peering out at the trees with alarm.

  “There we go,” Carlos exhaled quietly from the driver’s seat.

  In the side mirror, Deion could see movement in the underbrush, and a moment later a column of beastly figures emerged into the twilight.

  The Stuck had made their entrance.

  Alex frantically jabbed the button. “Uh, guys? Guys? Remember those non-friendlies I mentioned?” He waved frenetically at the sentry tower then swept his arm out towards the trees. “We’ve got company.”

  “Hold tight, soldier. We’re requesting clearance.”

  Alex bounced anxiously on his toes as the Stuck staggered as one, advancing towards the gates swiping their grisly talons in the air threateningly and roaring with inhuman intensity. “We don’t really have time for that…” he persisted.