Dark Divide (Shadow and Shine Book 2)

by Danial Hooper

  Jenna looked down and saw she was fastened against an operating table. Someone had tied her down and took off her shoes.

  He’s going to cut you open, he’s no different from Toppy after all.

  He wouldn’t dare. Marshall wasn’t here to hurt her.

  “As I’m sure you know, I have questions that need answered and…” He stood over her, patting his chest. He was searching for something in one of his pockets. “Ah, here they are.”

  Are those wire cutters?

  Marshall smiled at her, he enjoyed seeing the confusion. “These are for if you don’t answer my questions.” He waved them in front of her face. “I’m going to snip the webby skin in between each of your toes.”

  How exactly will imposter-Shelly respond to that?

  “I’ll answer anything I can, I promise,” she said. There was fear, but there was also a faith in being able to be honest. She didn’t have any secrets. There was nothing confidential. She searched through her head to figure out what he would want to know, and why it was worth torturing her.

  It’s all about Salt Lake City.

  “Good girl.” Marshall pushed her table back, causing it to lie horizontally. “How did you survive the attacks?”

  This was an easy answer, “Luck. A boyfriend. Mona.”

  “Mmmm. Tell me about Mona.”

  He’s waiting for the chance to torture you. He’s going to find something wrong with one of your answers. You better be careful what you say.

  “She’s amazing. She’s strong. She’s poised.”

  Marshall’s laughter stopped her. “The mute? She hasn’t said a peep since getting here. Are we thinking of the same person?”

  He’s got a point. She’s different now. She’s spent almost as much time being your leader as she has being an invalid.

  Mona was Mona, though. Jenna knew her in the most pure way. Whatever kept her quiet was important. Mona was always thinking about the future, and Jenna trusted her. She didn’t have to understand to follow her.

  Are you sure?

  “Mona has a plan. You’re a part of it, whether you realize it or not. She saved us when things were at their worst in Utah. She can do it again.”

  “How’d she save you?”

  “Anything I say is going to sound crazy.”

  He won’t appreciate crazy.

  “Try me, sweetheart.”

  “She has abilities.” Jenna answered, Marshall looked confused at the statement as she continued, “I watched her break a man, a monster, in half, using only her words. And she knows stuff too.”

  “What does she know?”

  This is where you draw the line and don’t say anything else.

  “Everything, I guess. I think she even knew you guys were coming.”

  “That’s very interesting.” Marshall looked towards the door. “So, she’s your leader?”

  Jenna nodded, “She is.”

  “Making you.” He brushed the hair from her face. “One of her soldiers, correct?”

  “I guess? I’m hardly a sol—”

  “Ah, well, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He set the wire cutters down on the table. “I have a rule about other leaders. Do you want to hear it?” Marshall brushed the hair from her face.

  Here it goes.

  Jenna didn’t answer. She searched his face for an expression that might comfort her. She hoped he wasn’t about to say something awful.

  “Any leader who opposes me, aside from the President, with whom I share a mutual respect, any leader who opposes me. Or has information I want.” he picked up the cutters. “I torture their soldiers and let them listen to their cries. I’m willing to bet you don’t have any information. Not a dumb girl like you.”

  Jenna felt the cold steel in between her pinky and ring toe.

  You can’t avoid men like this. There is no being positive. There is only pain.

  “Wait, please,” she began to say, but it was too late. The sharp blade clipped through her skin, causing her foot to feel like it was on fire. She screamed out, wincing and crying instantly.

  “And this little piggy went to market,” he moved the cutters in between the next two toes.

  What would Shelly do now? Let him toture her? Just like she let him shoot her down? How are you going to mimic her now?

  Jenna leaned up. She was unable to break her restraints, but could see the enjoyment in his eyes. Marshall was worse than Toppy. He was more dangerous and uglier than any of the Wolves. She wasn’t going to do what Shelly did in the field, she was going to do what Shelly would want her to do: be strong.

  Instead of begging for help, Jenna spit in Marshall’s face.

  *******

  Tink

  Dark

  Union Matis, WV

  The shadow wavered under the door. Tink waited patiently with his back against the table as he pretended to be tied down. “Help. Someone. Please.” He wasn’t going to win any awards for his acting, but it should get the job done.

  The soldier called Nino over the radio, “He’s up, sir. Copy?” Tink enjoyed hearing the nervousness in the soldier’s voice. He was a Jerry, after all, and a Jerry always ends up breaking orders. Grady knew it, which is why Grady never kept them around.

  “Help, please, I’m in so much pain.” Tink said, and even coughed a little for good measure. “I need help. Is anyone out there?”

  “Shut up!”

  “My face, it’s broken. What happened to me?”

  Tink could almost hear the thoughts tearing in the soldier’s head. His hands heated up with anticipation. His plan was working. The guard was going to come in and check on him, despite orders.

  “Ohhh. So much pain.” The thought of soldiers slapping his sister, and threatening her, even having the courage to threaten to kill her; it was enough to make Tink willing to slaughter every man wearing a uniform in this building. The Pulse might not answer to his anger, but he still carried plenty of rage.

  The silence was killing him. He arched his back against the table and closed his eyes. The soldier was going to come. If he brought Nino, Tink was going to kill them both. He never killed someone with his bare hands before, but he was ready. He didn’t have to kill the soldier outside, he could do fine with him knocked out cold.

  The anticipation was like the first time Tink collected a debt for Grady. The danger was different though; before he was knocking off store owners and bad gamblers, but now he was getting ready to fight a trained killer.

  The door opened.

  “Please, I’m begging you. I need help.”

  Tink’s eyes struggled to adjust to the light. The soldier walked in looking like a thin blurry line surrounded by fluorescent yellow. There was carefulness to the soldier’s approach, but he continued walking and made the blurry line become a thick block.

  “You’re pathetic.”

  Tink didn’t whisper any particular words, instead made random, pst hsst, haaa, wooo, sounds. The door slammed shut behind the Jerry, Tink wasn’t sure if it was from another soldier or if the doors were automatic. He wasn’t going to worry about it for now though.

  The soldier pushed against Tink’s head with two fingers. “You’re lucky I have orders, you loser. I eat losers like you for lunch.” Tink opened his eyes as he leaned in. A black keycard hung from his uniform.

  “You eat losers?” Tink smiled. The soldier looked surprised to see someone who was just begging for help crack a devious smile. The shock must have distracted him, because he didn’t notice Tink bend his right leg. His foot was now against the table.

  In a wild attempt, Tink kick-pushed himself off the table and punched the soldier.

  He couldn’t tell where it landed, but the dark room lit up in a bright blue fire.

  The room was filled with a salty smell. Tink could feel the steam against his knuckles as he pulled the keycard off the charred body.

  *******

  Mickey

  Time: Unknown

  Some underground lab
r />   The room was pitch black, other than a little light that shined underneath a door. Mickey felt the room’s darkness suck the air from his lungs. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but being trapped here made him feel like his heart was about to explode. It was impossible to move. Mickey struggled against the rubber ties on his arm, but they didn’t even wiggle under his strength. His heart began racing, he couldn’t concentrate. This is what it feels like to have a panic attack. Or something. The frantic drumming all over caused him to dry heave.

  Hrrrggg HaaRRRRhhhhGGGGGaa.

  Someone snickered on the other side of the door. Even tied up and imprisoned, he felt ashamed to have another person hear him vomit. It was weird. Everyone thought he was a joke. He couldn’t win anymore. Life always caught up and brought him back to reality after every step forward. Survive an accident? The world ends. Find new friends? They actually hate you. Partner with Greg? Greg’s a mad scientist. Have a superpower? Don’t know how to use it. Get out of Salt Lake? Prisoner of evil soldiers.

  The door opened as Jordan entered. “You don’t sound very good. Feeling okay?”

  A light turned on overhead. The quiet storm, the lesser of Marshall’s two evils, walked up to Mickey and wiped the side of his mouth. He was wearing a different uniform than before, this one was dark blue. It struck Mickey; he never saw a soldier wear two different colored uniforms before.

  “You look awful, boy.”

  Mickey tried to stand up tall and puff out his chest, but he was stuck tight. All he could do is clench his jaw and look at Jordan with hate. “Why are you doing this?” Mickey asked. He didn’t want to talk, but Jordan wasn’t going anywhere. “What do you want?”

  “I’m here to collect information,” Jordan said.

  Mickey noticed a small, silver object in Jordan’s left hand. “What is that?”

  “This? It’s how I collect,” Jordan opened his hand to show a needle as long as a pencil. “I’ll ask questions, you answer.” He brought the needle to Mickey’s forearm. “Got it?”

  “What? No. That’s not—”

  Jordan diagonally slid the needle into Mickey’s skin. The pain seared up to his shoulder. “I ask the questions. You answer,” he spun the needle in a circle causing pressure in his wrist.

  Mickey wanted to scream. He wanted to shock this dude into next week. Instead he clenched his jaw again and stared, waiting for Jordan to speak. He wanted out of this as fast as possible.

  “That easy? Cat got your tongue?” The pressure released as Jordan pulled the needle from his flesh. Blood tickled his fingertips as Jordan continued, “First question, how did you survive Salt Lake?”

  Mickey stared at the light bulb. He could do it. It was right there. So close. All it would take is to unlock whatever was tied up. Jordan deserved it.

  The needle pressed against his forearm, directly beside the other wound. “First. Question. Answer.”

  Mickey closed his eyes. He didn’t have a good answer. He prepared himself for pain because whatever he said wasn’t going to be enough. He survived because he didn’t die. That’s it. He could say it was the Pulse, but why?

  “Luck. Chance. The stars aligned at the perfect time. I ran into other survivors. I stayed away from the Wolves.”

  “What are the Wolves?”

  “People who, like, died and came back as fast crazies. They’re evil. Mona calls them Shadows.”

  “What’s so important about Mona?”

  Mickey didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t have anything to hide, and maybe they would work with her if they knew she was capable of saving the world. At the same time, Jordan might use it against her. Or against Tink.

  “She’s our leader. Other than that, I met the girl like three days ago.”

  Jordan scanned his face to see if he was lying. “I don’t believe you, but next question: how do we stop the Wolves?”

  All Mickey could think about was when he killed the dog. It wasn’t because he hated the dog, or even because he was afraid; the Pulse was the only reason he was alive and the dog was dead. The same thing goes for the Wolves. Jordan, and Marshall, didn’t stand a chance because they were terrible people who didn’t deserve the Pulse.

  It was going to hurt, but he wanted to show Jordan he wasn’t afraid. The needle was bad, but the Wolves were worse. Mickey wasn’t going to give him any information. He wasn’t going to give him any hope. That type of attitude was going to lead to some nasty pain, but he wasn’t going to die. Marshall wouldn’t let him die. Mickey and his group were too important. Hopefully.

  Mickey smiled. “You can’t stop them. You don’t have a chance, dude.”

  *******

  Acacia/Sherry

  8:17 p.m. (Western time)

  Las Vegas, NV

  She drank enough to make the room spin. There was no use in babysitting her drinks, she drank each with one gulp. If the police were coming, she wasn’t going to remember going to jail. She was going to be numb before the door opened again.

  Pam was too busy talking to Big Bo to make another cosmo for her only customer. This type of service was how dive-bars ran out of business. Barbie’s might have hookers and pool tables, but no one is cute enough to act ugly.

  The news was loud in the background. Why Pam felt the need to put the volume up so high was anybody’s guess. Garbage about the President being dead and Utah getting bombed. Even the local news blabbered on about the new President and if he was going to do a good job. There was nothing about a dead cop. Well, not yet. Eventually, everybody will talk about it and soon Acacia is in the real life Orange Is the New Black. No one is safe after crossing the police, let alone killing one. Acacia was about to become the enemy of the entire LVPD.

  “You got somewhere to go? We’re closing early.” Pam said.

  It took a few seconds for Acacia to understand what she was trying to say. Sometimes Pam talked too fast and didn’t make any sense. As soon as her thoughts caught up with Pam’s words, it made sense, but Acacia wasn’t ready to go yet. “One more drink, please.”

  “Closing time,” Big Bo said, lurching his fat gut away from his barstool. The leather cushion was torn where it used to be strong enough to hold someone pushing three-hundred pounds. He acted like he was a boss of this place, but he was basically a glorified janitor. Pam ran things.

  A warm breeze hit Acacia’s back. She wasn’t drunk enough yet.

  “One more—”

  Big Bo interrupted, “Sir, bar is closing.”

  “Pam, give me one—”

  Again, Big Bo didn’t let her finish, “Hey, buddy, I said we’re…” Acacia was about to give him a piece of her mind, until she noticed his face turn white. His bottom jaw quivered as he stuttered, “Ha-Ha-Had-Lee?”

  Acacia turned. “What?” she asked, wondering what the heck Big Bo was talking about. She wasn’t drunk enough to have hallucinations. She had never been that drunk. Her eyes were heavy, but they worked mostly fine. A little blurry, but no way was there a dead police officer, the man she killed, standing in the bar.

  A massive man stood in the doorway, his wide shoulders rising and falling with each difficult breath. Acacia squinted to get a better look through the drunken haze.

  Black streaks were painted onto his forehead to look like long stretching wrinkles. His left eye was black and shifted down to where Acacia shot his nose through the back of his head. The flesh where his eye used to be sunk in and made it look like his left eye socket was a long cylinder from his eye to his nose. It was mangled face without a nose.

  Big Bo’s voice quivered, “Are you alright?” Big Bo looked back to Pam whose jaw was almost down to her necklace.

  Hadley’s good eye looked to Acacia as his chest expanded and released.

  Expanded and released.

  Expanded.

  *******

  Asher

  Late night

  West Illinois

  The pickup truck burned gas faster than it drove, at least that’s what it seemed like. Ashe
r pulled into a gas station twice so far, this time near the Ohio border. Fortunately, Old Man Mason gave Asher three hundred dollars for the drive. An extreme amount for an elderly person living alone on an old rundown farm. He took the money and planned on putting it to good use. Besides, the value of the dollar was about to drop significantly in the future.

  Harry hopped out and took care of the gas tank as Asher walked inside to pay. The dorky cashier behind the glass prison didn’t acknowledge him as he approached the counter. The world may be falling apart, but people didn’t know and so they would continue being rude. The kid didn’t realize his inevitable fate, and Asher didn’t have time to tell him. Asher needed to find Mona and the others. The kid was too busy watching a video on his hand-held tablet, with the volume turned up too high. At least he was watching the news, not some lame cat video.

  “Excuse me.” Asher tried to draw his attention and knocked against the Plexiglas barricade.

  The kid put his finger up to signal, one second. He looked uncomfortable standing in his post-pubescent, thin framed body.

  Asher knocked again. This time noticing the kid’s name tag. “Hey. Lambert. What are you watching?”

  The kid looked up, his eyes widened as he saw Asher’s face. Harry already warned him about the black lines, but this kid made him think he was missing his nose or something.

  “I said. What. Are. You. Watching?”

  He turned the tablet to face Asher. Asher would need to go into the restroom after this and see if he turned into a fire breathing dragon, or what. There was no reason for the kid to be frightened like this, was there?

  The video displayed a woman being attacked by a female Wolf. Asher knew she was a Wolf because of the speed and precision in which she brutally beat the helpless lady. She was different than most Wolves though, because she didn’t move with empty savagery. Usually their stoic demeanor is obvious, but it looked like this woman was laughing hysterically. As if she enjoyed it. Her beautiful smile was on full display as she destroyed the woman underneath her.