Atlas (Apocalyptic Cries Book 1)

by Adalie Jordin

  “Is there anything I can do to help speed the process along?” I’d asked before, when I first walked in, but she’d turned down my offer then, just as she does now.

  “Like I said the last two times you asked — no. I’ve got this.” Giving me a withering look, she grimaces. “Are you completely incapable of sitting still? You’re like a kid with ADHD or something, squeaking that stool over and over.”

  Oops.

  “Sorry.” I stop moving. “I’m just having a hard time not being hands-on. I like to be in the middle of the planning, as well as the execution. It keeps me on my toes.” Admitting that to her isn’t something I would normally do, but I’m tired of being so closed off from everyone. I want to enjoy having a girlfriend for once.

  She doesn’t stop typing, but turns her head my way - so cool! I want to be able to do that - offering me an understanding smile. “I get it, Saed. I do. I’m the same way, but there’s honestly not a thing you can do here, unless you know how to alter computer code without a book to guide you.” I’m already shaking my head, I can’t obviously. “I can teach you later on, after all of this is over, if you want?”

  Her offer is sweet, and I’m more than happy to accept. I like planning for after the ‘prison break’…. It helps me believe there will even be an after.

  She’s silent for a while again, staring back down at her screen, and I make sure not to disturb her. I wish I’d brought a book with me.

  “You know what?”

  I look up into her caramel-chocolate gaze, “What?”

  “I can use your help with something.”

  I perk up, like a dog sensing a treat. “Oh, yeah?”

  Pulling a set of keys out of her pocket, she jingles them at me. “Could you do my laundry for me? I haven’t been able to get to it lately, with everything going on.” My excitement instantly deflates.

  “Sure, no problem,” I agree dryly. “Where’s your room again?”

  She gives me directions and I leave her to it. She’s only asking me to do her laundry to get me out of her perfect hair. I know it. She knows it.

  It’s all good though…. Laundry is menial, but at least I’ll have something to do with my hands. And I get to see her place for the first time, so there’s that.

  Making my way up three flights of stairs, I slide the key into the lock of her door and slip inside. It’s darker than the hallway had been, and it takes my eyes a second to adjust as I feel along the wall for a light switch. You’d think the electricians who designed the layout would put them in a uniform spot in each unit, but nooo, they’re all somewhere different. Fun.

  Using the slim light that filters in around her blackout curtains, I finally locate the damned thing, flicking it up. Artificial light floods the room, illuminating Kenji’s inner sanctum. Why I’d ever expected it to be like every other dorm here, I have no clue. She’s very obviously made this place her own.

  There are colorful blankets strewn everywhere that look handmade. They bring pops of life to the otherwise drab couch that likely came with the place. Somehow, she managed to come by art materials and has drawn beautiful illustrations over every open surface on the walls. Scenes of forests, woodland creatures, faeries and trolls litter the space.

  I love this chick’s imagination.

  I stare at the beauty she’s created for a long while, not really paying attention to the time. I want to reach out and touch one particular depiction - so badly - of a child holding their mother’s hand while they both stare out at the sunset over an open ocean, but I don’t want to risk ruining her work. There’s no telling how long it took her to complete.

  Kenji’s able to capture so much longing and sadness in the intricate image… It’s phenomenal. I’ll be sure to tell her so later, too.

  Getting back to the task at hand, I go into her equally decked out bedroom and locate a pile of clothes flung in a corner of the room. She never struck me as someone who would be particularly organized in her home life, with how stringent she has to be with each piece of gadgetry she handles, so finding her room looking like that of a teen who doesn’t have parents to yell at them to clean up doesn’t altogether surprise me. She has to let go somewhere.

  I mean, I guess her art could be an outlet - and likely is - but bordering on OCD is just no damn fun.

  I locate a tote in her closet and quickly stuff the smelly clothes inside — and damn do they stink. What the fuck does she eat?!

  Making sure to turn off the lights on my way out I lock the door behind me, closing in her little bit of personal paradise.

  Stopping by Jessie’s dorm building, I sneak a book from the library at the end of Old Man Wilson’s hallway, flinching each time I pass his door. It’s quicker than going back to the observatory to grab one of mine that I’ve read over and over already.

  This one is about a princess who’s destined to die so her countrymen and women can live, whether she wants to sacrifice herself or not - basically it’s ‘fall in line or else’. Seems a bit mature for a novel placed in the kids’ hangout area, but it’ll suffice to entertain me for the moment.

  After loading the washer with my haul from Kenji’s room, I settle in to read. By the time the buzzer goes off to let me know I need to switch things over, I’m completely involved in the story and I don’t want to stop. It’s so freaking good!

  I wonder if bookstores still exist or if the wares inside have been ruined over time?

  I definitely need the next one in the series.

  Keeping one hand on the book as I read, I absentmindedly put the clothes in the dryer and start it, not paying much attention to what’s going on around me.

  That’s how, minutes later, Morgan is able to get the drop on me. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself anyway. I’m sitting here, minding my business, and the next thing I know a fist is slamming me in the side of the head, right on my temple. The blow isn’t hard, but the location is a soft spot and I pitch forward onto the floor. The book flies from my hands and slides across the room to bounce off the opposite wall.

  Gaze traveling up the long legs crowding in front of me, I scowl when I meet Morgan’s eyes. She’s grinning manically and the expression is enough to make me leery of her next move. Gods, is she just as bad as Nyler? Do we have more than one psychopath running around The Compound?

  “You fucking bitch! I told you to stay away from my fiancé!” She spits, her words stopping my thoughts in their tracks. She’s not a psycho — she’s just a jealous cunt. And for no damn-good reason.

  Not one to cower in the face of a bully, I get to my feet, standing tall before her even as a wave of dizziness hits. “Morgan, you have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ll give you that one for free, because you seem so misinformed, but try and hit me again and I’ll take you down like the bitch you are.”

  She’s taken aback by my coldness, the flat deadness, in my words. I allow her to see my building rage and she takes a half-step away, suddenly unsure. “Dora saw you coming out of the gym the other day, all hot and bothered. Luca was the only other one inside. I know you two were fucking,” she seethes. “Just admit it!”

  Why do wenches always blame the woman in the situation? If they think their man is cheating on them, they need to take out their ire on him.

  Scoffing, I roll my eyes. “Are you kidding me right now? Your friend saw me leaving a gym, sweaty and hyped up, and you automatically assume it’s because I screwed someone on one of the dank mats down there?” Idiocy. “People tend to go to the gym when they want to get hot and sweaty, Morgan. It’s called working out.”

  Sputtering, she tries to formulate a comeback, and at this point I just want to tell her to hurry her shit up. My head is throbbing where she conked me and I know it’s not going to go away any time soon. Why’d she have to aim there? Had she been wearing a big ass ring? No way her unpracticed form could have me this discombobulated after if she wasn’t packing something for a little extra umph. Glancing at her hand, I confirm my suspicion
— she has on an old high school signet ring shining there, big and gaudy-like.

  I could have dealt with a bitch slap - it seems more her style anyway - but the temple? She was going for a knock out. Fucker.

  Finally finding her words, she spews even more nonsense, but when I tune in to the tail end of her rant, my blood turns to ice. “…. and when I tell my Daddy, Commander Nyler, about your tramp ass, he’ll for sure have you on shit cleaning duty for the next six months!”

  Did she just say Nyler is her dad?

  Oh, shit. That would mean…. I don’t know whether to laugh at the royal fuck up revealing itself to me, or grimace at the implications.

  This is what happens when people are deceptive, and choose not to be honest with those around them. If what Morgan says is true… She’s been sexing her brother for months, if not longer. The sucky part? I may not be the best person out there, but I can’t even tell her how stupid she’s been - though I really gods damn want to after that sucker punch - because that would be breaking Luca’s confidences and could get back to Nyler.

  Despite not wanting to have a romantic relationship with the man, friendship isn’t out of the question, and I won’t ruin that by throwing him to the wolves.

  Maybe my friendship will benefit him and he’ll learn to be less self-serving.

  Only time will tell.

  Focusing back on Morgan, I offer her a blank face. “I’ve done nothing to run to your Daddy about, though I question whether he truly is your father, since no one has ever mentioned it. Regardless, do what you want. I won’t be cowed by an immature brat.”

  To be fair, she’s probably my age, but she sure as hell doesn’t act like it.

  “Imma— you have no — ugh!!! Just stay away from Luca, dammit!” She turns and storms off without waiting for me to agree. Maybe she has brains after all, because I wasn’t about to do so.

  ◆◆◆

  After Morgan’s little scene, my head is pounding like none other. I’m tempted to retaliate, but I won’t. Not now anyway. I do need to fill Luca in on the fact he’s possibly been screwing his half-sister… How does one go about that though? ‘Hey, uh, just thought I’d let you know you’re engaged to marry your sister. And the distraction you said she’s been? Well… Yeah.’

  Ha! No.

  I’ll figure it out, eventually. Their incest isn’t even the tip of the iceberg of everything going wrong in The Compound.

  If I run into Luca and the situation is right, I’ll share, but I’m not going out of my way for the time being.

  Wishing Nance hadn’t abandoned her post at the infirmary for creature comforts, I run Kenji’s laundry back to her dorm, then drop off her keys and take a walk around The Compound to clear my head. Hopefully the crisp fall air will distract me from the steady thrum of my pulse echoing in my ears.

  Kenji hadn’t noticed the darkening bruise on my temple, but I’d also gone out of my way to make sure my ever-messy hair fell in just the right way so she wouldn’t. No more drama today. She needs to focus anyway. Me being attacked - if you can call it that - by Luca’s fiancé isn’t a big enough issue to share.

  I need to fill Cade in on her revelation. This new development is something he surely should have known, with all of his team’s research into Nyler. Why hadn’t he said anything? I’d made him promise to be open with each other.

  Not sure what part of The Compound Cade’s out scouting at the moment, I leave a note on the white board by his door - huh, guess these do come in handy after all - letting him know to ‘Meet S at the O, ASAP’. He’ll figure out it’s me and come when he can.

  An hour later, I’m deep in the pages of the book I’d pilfered, when his coded knock sounds.

  I let him in, trying to keep a wall of hair between us, but his eyes immediately zero in on my temple. It’s gone blackish-purple over the last forty-five minutes or so and has an indent in the center from Morgan’s class ring. In short, it looks bad. Probably worse than it is, but that doesn’t stop his sharp intake of breath, nor the quick anger in his gaze.

  “Who did this?” His words are a demand, he’s not asking, he’s ordering me to tell him. I wasn’t going to keep it a secret anyway.

  “Luca’s fiancé, Morgan. My head hurts, but I’m fine. I’ll be good by tomorrow, I’m sure.” I tilt my head into his palm where he has it gently resting against the bruised side of my face. The injury twinges a bit, but I don’t flinch. I need him to believe me. “I learned something about her today that I’m still reeling from.”

  He searches my eyes for answers, “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  I don’t mince words. “She claims to be Nyler’s daughter.”

  Silence. His hand drops to his side at the same time his jaw drops to the floor. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so surprised by anything before.

  So, he hadn’t known. Hmm.

  “No, that’s….” He trails off, doubt evident in the crease of his brow and the frown pulling at his plump lips. “How could we have missed a daughter?”

  “I don’t know, but she’s pretty adamant. Insisted he’d give me the worst duties in The Compound if I don’t shape up and lay off her man.”

  His green eyes hone in on the bruise once more, “And that’s why she got one up on you?”

  Wincing, I go on the defensive without meaning to. “I was reading a damn good book! She was sneaky!”

  His laugh is a balm to my scattered thoughts and feelings surrounding this day. My headache even lessens a bit at the sound. “It isn’t funny.” I’m not pouting, I swear.

  “Must have been some novel for you not to hear her clomping about in the ridiculous shoes she wears.” Cade smarts off.

  He’s not wrong. She doesn’t wear shoes appropriate for the weather, or the apocalypse, at all. Today she’d been in four-inch heels. Completely impractical.

  Anyway….

  “Back to the important part.” I smirk, steering the conversation back on track. “How did you guys not know the devil had more than one spawn?”

  Shaking his head, he lets my demon reference pass by without comment, but answers me in that serious, gravelly tone of his. “I have no idea, and that’s an issue. It begs the question: what else don’t we know?”

  I hadn’t thought about it that way. Shit.

  “Kenji’s making progress on the cell network. We could have her ask your men?”

  “No, that would delay our rescue mission of Nyler’s Subjects, if they have to backtrack to D.C. to dig through his files with a fine-toothed comb it could take weeks.” He starts to pace, thinking over our next steps. “We have most of his files digitally stored, but none of the ones we brought with us mention anything about a child other than Luca. Or a long-term significant other beyond his wife and your mother.”

  Then how does he have a kid that’s obviously close enough to call him ‘Daddy’ without flinching when she’s no longer a little girl?

  “She could be lying,” I offer.

  “That’s always a possibility.” He doesn’t seem convinced though. Cade wasn’t even there and yet I can already tell he believes her.

  Thinking only of what we need to do and not allowing anything else to factor in at the moment, I step in front of him to stop his constant back and forth. “Does this affect us taking down Atlas, or freeing the people in the lab, or can we set it to the wayside for the moment and come back to it later?”

  “I don’t see a way it could, other than her determination to keep Luca away. She could be watching you and him more closely to make sure you’re not involved. We’ll have to be on our toes even more, but that’s alright. Diligence is what I’m good at.”

  A wave of guilt crashes through me. He’s so forgiving - understanding. I don’t deserve this man. I’ve no doubt Cade knows about my once-feelings for Luca, but he doesn’t care. Even though they’re making our lives harder right now.

  “Thank you, Cade.”

  He meets my gaze, confused. “What for?”

  “For being y
ou.”

  His face softens and he leans down to give me a tender kiss. Even pressing one to my bruise without making it hurt. “I can’t be anyone else, Sunshine. I’m just happy you like the person I am.”

  “Always.” It’s a declaration and a promise.

  ◆◆◆

  Over the next week, we wait… We plan, and we pass the time as best we can. Cade finds a place for his team to breach The Compound on the second day of searching and updates them with the coordinates.

  They’re making good time and should be here tomorrow, or the day after.

  Their arrival has me excited and nervous in equal measure. These are men my father brought together. Mentored and spent all his time with when he wasn’t home — which was often. They know the man who sacrificed himself for me better than I ever have. It’s a bit daunting to realize.

  Cade assures me they don’t, and won’t, blame me for Dad’s passing, just like he doesn’t. But I’m skeptical. When it comes to teams, units - whatever you want to call them - that spend all their time living and breathing each other’s safety and moving towards a common goal… It breeds loyalty. I’ve seen it. Cade knows it.

  I guess I just have to wait and find out.

  Kenji got the cells up and running last night, much to her triumph and my excitement, so Cade and I have been texting back and forth. Nothing incriminating of course, but it feels weird to speak over a long distance after so long without the ability to do so. And as an added benefit of no carriers existing, we don’t have caps on our communication, so we don’t need to worry about data and whatnot.

  Just to be safe, I’ve been keeping my phone hidden and on silent when not in my room, or with Kenji and Cade. It would fuck up a lot if anyone realized we have them.

  Just as I think it, my phone buzzes in my lower cargo pocket. I’m in the middle of gathering food for us to eat for lunch, I can’t exactly whip it out and see what’s up. All through the rest of my time in the nearly-empty cafeteria, the phone feels like it’s burning a hole through my pants, much like the lab documents once did.