Underground (New World Series Book 4)

by Janelle Stalder

  Pete could hardly move, his mind still trying to keep up with everything they had just told him. The news was good, almost too good. The suspicious side of him was still deciding whether or not to believe it.

  “I wouldn't be worried about that, mate,” Seamus said.

  “Why's that?” his brother asked. Then his eyebrows narrowed as he took in what Seamus was wearing. “Why the hell are you dressed like that?”

  Seamus grinned. Now that Pete thought of it, this had been the happiest he'd seen him in months.

  “I'm masquerading as a soldier,” he explained. He turned right and left. “I look good, yeah?”

  “If you say so,” Garrett muttered.

  “Everyone is getting off topic,” Lake said, clearly agitated. He'd almost forgotten she had been trying to leave right before they’d arrived.

  “There aren’t any soldiers here right now,” she told them. “Everyone's been sent to the Upper section.”

  “Why?” Tyler asked.

  Pete didn't miss the way his brother's face suddenly went pale as his focus zeroed in on Lake. She told them about the attack and how the General was holding all the survivors hostage.

  “What’s he playing at?” Garrett asked, moving behind the couch to pace.

  “He wants Ludwig to step down,” answered Seamus.

  “And...people are dead? You saw it?” he asked Lake. She nodded sadly. “Fuck!”

  “Easy,” Pete said. “We all knew this shit was bound to happen. Douglas wasn't going to sit idly by forever.”

  Garrett didn't calm down, his face flushed with anger. “I need to go there. I have to see for myself.”

  What? Pete didn't understand why his brother was so worked up. Why did everyone want to go back to that damn place?

  “Why, Garrett?” Charlotte asked.

  He stopped, his breathing harsh as he stood with his hands on his hips. “I need to check on someone who was probably there.”

  “Who do you know in the Upper section?” Pete asked. As far as he knew, there was no one. They'd lived in the ghetto since the city was divided.

  His brother took a deep breath, looking at him. “Mr. Samson.”

  Pete scrunched up his brows, searching his brain for why that name sounded familiar. “That miserable bloke who played chess with you?”

  Garrett nodded.

  “How do you know he's there?”

  “Because I still go and play with him. I'm the only person he's got.”

  Man, there were a lot of new things being thrown at him these last couple of days. He sat down on the bottom step of the stairs.

  “We can't wait around while you go there,” Tyler said. “They're waiting for us.”

  “He's right,” their dad said. “I'm sorry Son, but if this place you're talking about is as safe as you say, we should leave now.”

  “I can't leave,” Garrett said sadly.

  “Me either,” Lake said.

  “Oh for bloody sakes,” Sam cursed. “What do you two think you're going to achieve by going there, huh? You're going to put us all at risk by making us stay here longer.”

  Pete felt bad for the both of them. At the same time, he had bigger things to worry about now. Charlotte and their baby were his top priority. If this underground holding was safe, then that's where they needed to be.

  He stood back up. “Sam's right. We need to move. Everyone get their things.”

  “Pete, I can't go,” Garrett said, his eyes begging him to understand.

  The front door suddenly opened and a man he didn't know walked in. Immediately he pushed Charlotte behind him. She let out a surprised grunt.

  The guy looked at them all with an irritated expression. “What the bloody hell is takin so long? Get your shyte and get in the bloody van,” he ordered, his brogue even thicker than Tyler's. He turned right back around and walked out again.

  “A friend of yours?” Sam asked.

  “The outlanders are a bit rough around the edges,” Tyler said with shrug.

  “I like it,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “Lets go,” Vi said pulling Sam up. They went upstairs. Charlotte told Pete she'd go pack their things, not that they had much. When everyone else dispersed, only him, Garrett, Lake and Tyler were left.

  “I really can't go,” Garrett said once their father was out of the room.

  “Yeah, you really can.”

  “He depends on me, Pete. He could be dead.”

  “And if he is, then what? Are you going to bring him back to life?”

  “I just need to know, okay? Why can't you get that?”

  “Because we have people here that are counting on us!” he yelled, stepping close to him. “You can't put all of us at risk for one person, who might even be dead. It's a waste of time!”

  “It's not a waste of time when it's someone who matters. You should understand what that's like.”

  “I do,” he nodded, “which is why we are leaving. My girl is carrying our child, and I'll do whatever I need to in order to make them as safe as possible. So you're getting in that fucking van and we're going.”

  Garrett's eyes were as wide as saucers. “She's what?” he asked.

  “That's right. Charlotte's pregnant. So get your head out of your arse and let's go.”

  Pete moved, calling up the stairs for the others to hurry up.

  “Look,” Garrett said slowly, calmer now. “I'm happy for you both. And you're right, you should go. But I'm still staying here. Once I check on him, I'll head out that way. I know how to get there.”

  “And just how do you plan to get there?” asked Tyler.

  “I'll get him there.” Seamus walked into the room as they all turned to look at him. “I'll stay back too and keep watch on things. Leave one of the cells here so we can call each other if we need to.”

  “How's you staying going to help?” Pete asked, even more frustrated now that he was going to have to leave two of his friends behind.

  “Mate, do you know who I am? I can Hotwire just about anything, and the NWO has plenty of SUVs just begging for me to give it a go. When he's done, we'll meet back here and arrange a time when I can steal one and get us to where you are. Should be easy.”

  Pete snorted. “Yeah, easy,” he said sarcastically.

  “I'm staying too,” Lake said.

  Pete threw his hands up. “Of course you are!”

  Trent cleaned one of the shotguns, his eyes glancing up at Phoenix on the other side of the room every few seconds. He couldn't help it. Even when he tried to occupy himself with other things, his mind still went to her. And if she was in the same room, it was as though his eyes were instinctively drawn to her.

  He looked back down at what he was doing, ignoring the way her skin glistened even from this distance. Her face had a pretty flush to it as she continued to work out. Everyone seemed to be doing whatever they could, simply to occupy their time as they waited for any word from overseas.

  Bastian paced on the other side of the table, which was almost as distracting as Phoenix. He seemed deep in thought, his brows lowered, and his eyes fixed on some invisible point on the floor. Finally Trent laid the gun across his thighs and gave the man his full attention.

  “What's wrong with you?” he asked bluntly.

  Bastian glanced up at him as if he'd just noticed Trent was there. “I'm thinking,” he replied. “I do better when I keep moving.”

  “You look worried.”

  He stopped moving, much to Trent's relief. The man was making him dizzy.

  “There's just a lot to do, and I don't know when, or if, we'll hear anything back.”

  “How long does it normally take for your guy to go there and back.”

  He tilted is head from side to side as he thought about it. “Hard to say. Depends on what he's getting for me. If it’s a smaller item, he flies it to a secret location before shipping it the rest of the way. It's usually no more than a week. When I got the generators it took a lot longer because he shipp
ed them the entire way. I haven't asked him to bring me an army before, so who the hell knows how long that will take.”

  Months would be too long, Trent thought. It was no wonder Bastian seemed so stressed.

  “We need a plan B,” he said, picking up his pacing again.

  “What kind of plan B?” Trent asked, his mind racing now too.

  “That's the problem. I haven't figured one out yet,” he said, agitated.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Pixie walked in the room then, and Trent saw how Bastian instantly became aware of her. Trent himself had done a double take at the sight of the small girl. The tightly pulled back bun she normally wore was no longer there. Long waves of brown hair hung down around her face, bringing out the blue of her eyes.

  “I've never seen you with your hair down,” Trent said as she approached.

  Her hand immediately went to it, an unsure expression crossing her face. Bastian shot him a hard look.

  Trent raised his hands. “I wasn't trying to be mean,” he defended. “It looks nice.”

  For some reason that seemed to piss the man off even more. Trent had the feeling he didn't like him giving Pixie any kind of compliment. Next time he would just keep his head down and mouth shut, he thought as he resumed cleaning the gun.

  Pixie stopped just beside Bastian. Trent watched them from the corner of his eye as Bastian reached out to stroke his hand through the strands of her hair.

  “Woman, you're going to drive me nuts,” he said darkly.

  “Behave,” she said. “A van is approaching. I think the others are here.”

  Trent looked up now, relief washing over him. Finally they'd all be together again. It hadn't been that way since Bridgette had been forced to pretend to be her sister as Weapon X. Ever since that time, it had seemed like there was always one or more of them somewhere else, and in danger.

  He put the gun back on the table, and stood. “Let's go welcome them,” he said to Pixie, who nodded. Placing two fingers to his lip, he let out a high pitched whistle. Phoenix looked up, as did a lot of others, but it was only her he was looking at. He motioned his head toward the door, and then the three of them started that way. He couldn't wait to see what the others thought of this place. They were all together and finally getting the help they needed. Things were looking up.

  They stood around Bastian's office. Phoenix watched as Trent's face went red with anger.

  “What do you mean they didn't come?” he said, glaring at his brother.

  Pete didn't look any happier about it than he did. “They insisted on staying to check up on Mr. Samson and Lake's aunt in the Upper section.”

  “Mr. Samson?” Trent shook his head in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Pete sighed. “Don't ask me. Apparently he's still been visiting with the old man.”

  Trent rubbed a hand down his face and Phoenix started to feel bad for the big guy. Here they’d thought everyone would finally be together and safe, only to learn that they were missing three people, again!

  “What about Seamus?” he asked. “Why is he there?”

  Pete's mouth turned down even more. “He's been pretending to be a soldier, sneaking into the NWO headquarters.”

  “What?” Phoenix and Trent said together.

  Pete nodded, looking tired all of a sudden. “He's planning on stealing one of their trucks and driving them all out here once they've made sure the aunt and Mr. Samson are okay.”

  “Okay from what?” asked Missy.

  “That's a whole other story,” said Charlotte. “I think we should all sit down somewhere so we can really talk. And if we could get some food, that would be great.”

  “Shit, sorry, babe,” Pete said, moving to her side as if she were about to fall. “I wasn't thinking.”

  She waved him off. “I'm fine.”

  “No you're not,” Vi said, looking like a mother hen all of a sudden as she grabbed Charlotte by the elbow, her hands flitting about her face. “You're pale.”

  “What's going on? What's wrong with her?” Phoenix asked.

  They all looked at each other before anyone spoke. Geez, how much had they missed out on? Had Charlotte been hurt? She seemed to be moving around just fine.

  Pete looked at Trent instead of Phoenix, answering. “Charlotte's expecting,” he said nervously. He slapped a shocked looking Trent on his shoulder. “Congrats, mate. You're going to be an uncle.”

  After the whirl of activity that followed the news of Charlotte’s pregnancy, they finally made their way to a room that had a long table in the middle of it, surrounded by a dozen or so chairs. Phoenix had to laugh at the relief on Bastian's face now that they were getting down to business. He had looked extremely awkward and out of place as everyone had hugged and congratulated the couple. Her sister had even started to cry. Wuss.

  Phoenix touched her stomach and wondered what it would be like to have a baby. She’d always liked kids, but she hadn't been around any in years. Now that she really thought about it, she was pretty excited that there would be a baby in their group.

  Her eyes went up across the table to where Trent sat, conversing with Pete still. What would a child look like if they had one? She took in his wavy, dark blond hair and that chiseled jaw. She had naturally blonde hair too, almost the same shade as his now that she looked at it. She'd been dying her hair red for so long though that she couldn't really remember what she’d looked like otherwise. They both had blue eyes, so she was pretty sure any kid of theirs would too.

  Her mind started to conjure up a little blonde haired, blue-eyed boy with a round face like she'd had as a child. She took in how broad Trent's shoulders were and thought it would be nice if any boy took after him.

  As she let her gaze rise again, she was suddenly met with his own. Trent slowly raised his eyebrows, silently asking what she was thinking. Her cheeks heated as she looked away from him. She swore she heard him chuckle quietly, but she didn't look back to be sure.

  Pete started to fill them in on what was happening in New Berlin, with Charlotte taking over to provide some details about the hostage crisis in the Upper section. She thought maybe Charlotte was holding something back, but couldn't be certain.

  “Why would this General do something like that?” Bastian asked from the head of the table.

  “The people of the Upper section are the ones who keep the city running,” Trent answered. “They’re the backbone. If he loses them, he loses his doctors, bankers, butchers, everything. He can’t afford to lose his hold on them if he wants the city to thrive. Otherwise he’d have nothing left to rule.”

  “And because he's scum,” Sam added before turning to look apologetically at Charlotte and Bridgette. “Sorry.”

  Neither girl appeared to feel insulted, although Bastian looked even more confused.

  “The General is Bridgette and Charlotte's father,” Pixie explained quietly.

  “How - unfortunate,” he murmured, looking closely at the girls.

  “Don't feel too bad, X and Bridgette talk badly about him too,” Phoenix said.

  “X?”

  “Arrgg, Bastian, you need a crash course, seriously,” Phoenix grumbled. Pixie shot her a warning look that just made Phoenix want to laugh. “Are you going to defend your man, Pix?” she chuckled.

  “Smarten up, Phoenix. Now is not the time,” Trent snapped from the other side of the table.

  She could feel her face redden at being reprimanded like a child. Who the hell did he think he was? The Archers had survived as long as they had because they always made it a point to jibe and joke with each other, even when things were tough. How else did you get by in this world?

  Christ, if they were all like him, they'd be miserable all the time. She seethed, unable to even look him in the eyes as the others continued to talk about what to do. She heard Pixie beside her whisper to Bastian that she'd explain more to him later.

  Phoenix fidgeted in her seat, wanting to get the hell out of there. Now the
thought that she had actually started to soften toward Trent just made her feel stupid and foolish. Clearly he was just as uptight as ever. He had no respect for her, never had. Ever since they’d first arrived, he'd treated her like some naughty child.

  When Bastian called an end to the meeting, telling everyone to get some rest and eat, Phoenix was the first one out of her seat and through the door.

  “Princess,” Trent called out, his voice already holding that note of warning, as if he were tired of her attitude. Well he could take her attitude and go fuck himself!

  She sped up, sensing him on her heels. A hand shot out and grabbed her arm, but she shook him off.

  “Don't!” she said, stopping to point a finger at him. “You want to act like an ass, go ahead, but I don't want any part of it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “An ass? There's a time and place for everything -”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it, hot shot. I'm the immature brat, right? I know exactly how you see me.”

  “Obviously you don't,” he said, clearly getting angrier. “Although you're certainly acting like a brat now.”

  “Whatever,” she said, turning to walk. “I'm going to my room. Alone.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Mr. Samson had finally fallen asleep at some point during the night. Stella sat diligently by his side. She couldn’t remember the last time she'd slept herself. The soldiers had kept watch on them all night before replacements took over. None of the citizens had moved from wherever they sat throughout the hall, everyone too afraid of bringing attention to themselves.

  It was clear to her that the man, Douglas, didn't intend on killing anymore of them - not that it made anyone feel more at ease. They were his hostages, worth more to him alive than dead. Well, those who were left at least.

  Thankfully she had hidden them behind the food table, a stroke of good luck on their behalf really. She had been able to get Mr. Samson to eat some fruit before he'd fallen asleep. She, on the other hand, didn't have the stomach for food.