by Mason Dakota
Besides me, the Sabols and Alexandra were the biggest threats to his operation. Setting up all three adversaries against each other to destroy one another was the perfect idea to continue working unnoticed—until it was too late. I would have done the same thing in his place. It was a brilliant strategy and I had walked right into it and led a whole host of others into the carnage.
I see now why Nebula went to such efforts to get my father. He was a monster.
We used the chaos to cover our escape. We slipped into a group of fleeing civilians and got out of the Stinks without any more opposition. Gun fire popped and boomed behind us as we fled. I turned my head around just once and there, in smoke and fire and ash, stood Alexandra Carline like a decorated general on the battlefield.
She was in her element. From the front line, the Lady directed her forces, calling out orders and cutting down foes. Her mobsters obeyed with loyalty pouring into waves of oncoming bullets at her command. She terrified both mobster and Sabol—more terrifying than Rigs—as she viciously dropped Sabols left and right with pistol and knife.
And we caught her attention.
Her eyes did not find me. Nor did she seem to see Lorre. We were ghosts hidden by shadow and smoke. I was grateful for that. The last thing I desired was to explain my presence there that night to that woman.
But she did see Evelyn and her gaze locked on her with a steel grip. Evelyn turned around and met that gaze. Iced electricity buzzed in the air between those two women. Evelyn didn’t back down. Fearless and reckless.
A smile spread across Alexandra’s face. Dark wickedness in her eyes. Something twisted in my gut. She stepped once toward Evelyn and fear iced my veins Suddenly, one of her mobsters cried out to her for help. Compelled by duty to her soldiers and hate for the Sabols, the mob queen and Mayor of Chicago returned to her conquest of the Stinks.
She gave one last look back over her shoulder—back to Evelyn—and I knew there was a dark promise in her eyes.
Forty-Seven
Ziavir sprang to his feet. He held a thinly shaped blaster pistol in his hands and put two shots into the chest of one of the armed soldiers.
The air hummed with charged electricity as flashes of red lightning erupted from the barrel of Ziavir’s pistol and bore down upon his enemies. The first shot crushed through the soldier’s armor. The second shot penetrated the flesh beneath.
The first soldier instantly dropped dead.
The second soldier meanwhile raised his rifle and fired.
The shot missed by a hair. Its massive blast tore apart a booth and part of the bar’s counter. Leather and wood burned as the booth erupted into flames. The bar’s counter cracked, splintered, and crumbled into chunks of debris.
The soldier fired again, but Ziavir moved faster. He slithered behind a column of seating booths just as the soldier obliterated furniture with a hail of blaster fire and a trail of fire. Ziavir popped up and fired his blaster pistol twice in tight spacing in the soldier’s flank. The soldier dropped dead like the first.
Alexandra and Angelia slid out of hiding. Angelia looked panicked at the sight of the two dead soldiers. She covered her mouth and her stomach as she gasped. Ziavir felt grateful that blasters killed without puddles of blood left behind—though the smell of scorched flesh might have been worse. When blasters hit flesh, what they didn’t blow away they cauterize.
Alexandra didn’t seem as unnerved by the bodies, and that worried Ziavir some. Without hesitation, she leapt forward and grabbed one of the blaster rifles.
“Wait, don’t!” Ziavir shouted.
“Why not? We need some way to defend ourselves.”
“Listen to what’s happening outside. They are only shooting those who fight back. If they see you carrying one of those they will fire immediately. Leave the weapons. We’ll be safer without them,” said Ziavir as he returned his small blaster pistol to its hidden holster beneath his coat. “Come on, we’ll go out the back door.” He took Angelia’s hand. “Angelia, Angelia, listen to me. We’ve got to go. Can you walk?”
Angelia looked up into his eyes through tears in her own and nodded. Ziavir smiled and addressed Alexandra. “Alex, I’m sorry to put all this on you without explanation. But is there somewhere we can take her, somewhere where we can be safe until things calm down?”
“Yeah, I know of a place.”
“Good. Take us there.”
Alexandra nodded and led them out the back door. Ziavir stayed close to Angelia, guiding her by the hand. They reached the back door and Angelia stumbled on the threshold. Ziavir reached out and caught her, putting one hand on her stomach to catch her before she slipped.
That was when he felt the kick.
Ziavir gasped and looked at Angelia. “You’re pregnant!”
Angelia ducked her gaze as she nodded. At least it made a bit more sense now why Bretton wanted Angelia away from the battle. He wouldn’t want a woman who was pregnant to be caught in harm’s way. But things still weren’t adding up. What made this woman so special? Surely a pregnant slave wouldn’t be this valuable to the future of the Empire, as Bretton had claimed.
What is going on?
“I’m going to need you to tell me everything. What makes you so special that I’m risking my life to protect you?” Ziavir asked in a harsh whisper, quiet enough for Alexandra ahead of them not to hear.
Angelia looked from him to Alexandra and nodded. “Later…when we’re safe…and only with you. I’ll tell you everything.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.”
They rushed out the back door through the kitchen and out into an alley behind the restaurant. All around them gunfire rained, of both blasters and small projectile weapons. People screamed. Small fires spread throughout the city. Ziavir’s prediction proved correct. The soldiers only fired upon those who resisted and fought back.
But all Ziavir could think about was Angelia being pregnant.
Block after block, they ran, using alleyways and passages to remain hidden. The farther they went, the more soldiers they saw marching through the city in searching patterns. Ziavir knew he was to blame. The soldiers searched for him. That was the rule of a coup; eliminate the former ruler’s closest allies who don’t submit. Emperor Bretton trusted him and kept him close in the last few moments of his life. That made Ziavir a target that Adam had to deal with.
This would continue until he was caught. They knew he had abandoned the battle and mysteriously flee to Chicago. Adam would have his men turn the city upside down in search of him. They would eventually come for Alexandra to get to him. And the longer it lasted the more lives that would end.
How many lives was Adam willing to end to secure his rule?
How long could Ziavir run?
What would it take to complete the last mission given to him?
Forty-Eight
We didn’t return to my apartment or Lorre’s. Both were likely compromised. My father and Raven could be waiting at either location to ambush us.
Evelyn took us to her motel room. The evening clerk gave us odd looks when we arrived covered in blood and dirt and badly beaten. Plus, Lorre was still hobbling at my side. None of it a good sign to see.
But with the whispered warning of silence and a handful of cash from Evelyn, the clerk promised ignorance. Evelyn took us to her room, unlocked the door and allowed us to enter first.
It was a dingy and smelly motel room with ugly wallpaper and equally hideous furniture. There were twin beds so stiff they may as well have been made of solid wood. I led Lorre to one of the beds and laid him down upon it. He groaned and I matched his complaints with my own mumbled cries of pain. He coughed and squirmed into a comfortable position.
Evelyn ran past us to the bathroom, filled a small bucket meant for ice with water, and brought back a cloth. She carefully sat on the bed next to Lorre and began wiping away some of the blood on him. He didn’t resist her gentle touch.
“Thank you,” I heard him whisper.
She smiled and whispered, “You’re welcome.”
Pleased to see Lorre finally showing gratitude, and confident he wasn’t about to attack her or me, I stepped back outside and did a quick sweep of the area. I came back a few minutes later when I was confident we weren’t followed or seen. I came upon the doorway when suddenly a massive pain exploded in my head like an atomic bomb.
I lost my footing and fell against the wall. The pain increased till I saw white hot fire. The world spun and sirens wailed in my ears. I gritted my teeth, stifling a scream. Nausea wafted over me.
Just when I thought the pain relented, another wave hit me and I crashed to the ground outside the motel in the fetal position as I moaned with agonizing pain. I didn’t have the strength to get up. The stone ground iced my veins. The virus ravaged my body. I felt empty, wanting desperately to die. But then as quickly as it came it went away. Sweat soaked my clothes and I panted for air.
This is just the beginning. Did I really make the right choice here?
Another wave of white hot pain stabbed my body and the process started over again. I convulsed and twitched in pain.
Man, it sucks to be the good guy.
I returned to the room to find Lorre asleep on the bed and Evelyn over the sink. She rinsed out a bloody rag and transitioned to wiping the dirt out of her hair. I closed the door behind me and glanced around the room. There was nothing of Evelyn’s there except a sleeping bag and small suitcase in a corner. The motel seemed so dirty it felt wrong that she was staying there.
“A nice place you’ve got here. I’ve really like what you’ve done with the stains on the wall and the mold in the carpet,” I said.
I saw her blush in the mirror and she ducked her head to hide her smile. “It certainly isn’t much, but you know I’ll do anything to save a few bucks. Besides the nicer places are segregated for Nobles only. We will be safe here tonight.”
I looked back toward Lorre sleeping. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
Evelyn turned around and leaned back on the sink. “All I did was wipe away some of the blood. I’m no doctor or nurse. What he needs is a hospital.”
I shook my head. “No, too risky.”
“Then he needs Alison. She’s got that healing touch.”
“And this is also her wedding night and the start of her honeymoon. I’m not going to take that from them. I’ve already taken so much from them as it is.”
Evelyn smiled, more of a grimace than an actual smile, and didn’t make any comment in defense to my statement. “What exactly happened tonight?”
“My father is what happened. He’s responsible for everything that happened tonight.”
“What do you mean?”
I sighed and sat down on the remaining bed to take off my boots. “I mean he set Lorre and me up. He murdered the Justicars in a single day, only because they were working with me to stop him. Then he informed both Alexandra and Rigs where we were. Meanwhile he pitted Lorre and me against each other, thinking one of us would kill the other. It was a brilliant move of knocking out several birds with one stone.”
“What do you mean that he tried to get Lorre and you to kill each other?”
I swallowed, licked my lips, and said, “He injected us both with the virus and gave us only one dose of the cure to fight over.”
“And…?” asked Evelyn. Her voice was beginning to tremble with fear.
“I won the fight…but I gave the cure to Lorre instead.”
Evelyn looked between the sleeping Lorre and me and I swear she backed up a step when she looked at me. “Then that means…”
“That I’m infected with the virus and therefore a carrier.”
I looked up to her eyes, saw the fear in them, and said, “You have nothing to worry about. The mutations in your Outcast blood allow for resistance. Apparently I will infect only Nobles I come into contact with.”
Some of the fear vanished from her eyes—some, not all. She eased her posture and whispered, “He orchestrated all of this in hopes of killing his own son? Why?”
I shook my head and said, “He didn’t know I was his son until afterward. He was pursuing Shaman. He actually admitted to thinking I was Gabriel at one point. He saw Lorre and me as chief candidates to carry the virus. That’s why he did it. He knew Lorre and I would never take the time to be quarantined. We’re too stubborn. He was betting on taking out as many foes as he could tonight, but had it planned that our survival would still work in his favor. He played us like fools.”
Evelyn was speechless as she processed what I said. Slowly, as if she were approaching a mine, she moved to sit next to me on the bed. I kept my eyes downward to the floor. I sense her internal struggle. Still, she lifted her hand and lay it on my arm. Her touch was warm, and something cracked within me. Breathing became more difficult.
“What do we do?” she asked.
I swallowed, pulled out the syringe from my pocket, and handed it to her. “I need you to find someone who can make more of the cure from the traces left.”
She nodded her hand, took the syringe, and asked, “What about you?”
“I…I can’t hide. I’ve got to stop him…even if it means…”
“That you spread the virus.”
I nodded and I felt tears well up in my eyes. Evelyn didn’t argue to stop me from what I knew I must do. Instead she hugged me tightly as we both cried. I’m unsure how long we stayed in that embrace, but she never tried to stop the pain pouring out of me. She merely clung to my body, perhaps to absorb some of the pain, suffering, and heart-breaking agony that tore through me.
My father infected me with a virus that will eventually kill me.
And I will have to eventually kill my father to save the world.
Forty-Nine
I awoke in one of the two beds in Evelyn’s motel room. The room was dark, the curtains were drawn tight, but through a crack in their folds I saw the smallest sliver of a rising sun.
I stirred, my bones creaked, and I rolled over to see Lorre still asleep in the other bed. I questioned if he had died in the night with the blood stains on the sheets and how he lay in the same position as when I put him on the bed.
Just before I panicked, I saw his chest rise and fall with a deep breath. I sighed in relief, feeling my own pain with each inhale. I rose in the bed to see Evelyn wrapped in her sleeping bag and asleep on the floor.
Glad to know I’m chivalrous.
I made no great effort to remain quiet as I groaned and muttered my way out of the bed. Evelyn, I knew, might very well be the world’s heaviest sleeper. The woman slept through a hurricane once without stirring. I didn’t much care enough for Lorre to be polite during his need for sleep. Save him from a deadly virus that was now eating me alive? Sure. But care if he gets the rest he needs? We weren’t there yet in our relationship.
It proved unbearably difficult to simply stand. My body ached enough from the multiple beatings—I had to pull out tiny chips of brick from my leg. Now a flesh eating, soul sucking virus tore my insides a part. I half crawled-half walked to the bathroom. When I saw the toilet I dropped to my knees to puke my guts out. Even still nobody woke up. Pushing myself up, I made my way to the sink, stumbling as I regained control of my legs. I rinsed my face several times in the sink before drying off and looking in the mirror at my own reflection.
Wow. I look awful.
This was more than just wild hair and filth from fighting. It was the start of something awful. In the hours since I’d been infected, my skin had lost color. My parched lips cracked and bled. Droopy eyelids framed bloodshot eyes. My throat choked on mucus and my mouth was as dry as a desert.
I tried to clean up the best I could. I went from appearing like someone with a deadly strain of a new virus to someone simply suffering the flu. At least this way Nobles won’t flee screaming from me. They’ll think I’m just another sick and pathetic Outcast.
It will be their doom.
My dirty, blood-stained clothes from the night befo
re clung tight to my body. I would need to replace them. I certainly couldn’t go into work dressed like that, but I had no money on me. So I did what any reasonable fella would do in this circumstance. I rummaged through Evelyn’s things until I acquired some cash and then wrote her a note saying I was sorry and that I would pay her back…eventually.
I thought about staying longer, maybe going back to sleep, or at least waiting until Lorre or Evelyn woke up, but I had too much to get done and I couldn’t lie around to be polite to my roommates. My father was out there and I needed to find him. I needed to get the cure from him before it was too late. I needed to save Chicago.
If I were honest with myself…I really just needed to get out of that motel room. I feared facing tougher matters if I stayed. Why I found it more comforting to rush head first into danger instead of facing the emotional issues of my life, I would never understand. I would rather face Rigs in a fist fight than deal with the complications with Lorre and what happened last night. And I would face a firing squad before coming close to dealing with the Evelyn situation.
I sure am a hero.
After leaving behind the syringe from last night and my note to Evelyn, I slipped out into the chilly morning. I made for the first store I saw that had cheap clothes. It was an Outcast segregated thrift store. Some local mission ran the store claiming that every purchase helped them to raise money to feed the homeless in the Stinks. That lessened my guilty conscience for taking Evelyn’s money.
I purchased a new pair of pants, the only size that fit me being a pair of overalls, and a dingy sweater that had a few holes already in it. I guess a sweater with holes and overalls with mud stains was better than anything with blood on it. When the cashier saw me and how miserable I looked, he gave me the clothes for free. I turned him down, insisting that I would use someone else’s hard earned money for my good dead of the day. The cashier looked at me like I was insane and didn’t reply, though I did notice he lowered the price so I also bought a scarf and gloves to make up for it.
