Alliance: The Complete Series (A Dystopian YA Box Set Books 1-5): Dystopian Sci Fi Thriller

by Inna Hardison

  “What’s wrong?” she asked bluntly, not finding the patience for anything else.

  “Brody … he should have been home ages ago, but he isn’t, and nobody knows where he is. It’s not like him, you know, and today, of all days, he wouldn’t just take off like that, not without telling me,” Laurel said, voice cracking.

  “What happened today?”

  Laurel shook her head, turned away and wiped her face with her shirt, and then faced her again, a small apologetic smile on her face mingling with the tears. “I’m pregnant, Ams…. I told him this morning. We didn’t tell anyone yet, didn’t get a chance to. I’m sorry.” She sniffled and lunged for her and hugged her, crying into her chest, and Ams felt her own eyes well up as she held her best friend, crying with her, only she was crying for the baby she lost, not the one Laurel would have. But she couldn’t tell her that, could never tell her that.

  It was almost morning when she was done reading the damn thing, done with all the crying over what was in it. She finally put Laurel to bed, telling her that she’d wake her if she heard anything from Brody. She made herself a cup of coffee, drinking it in just a few swallows, and slowly made her way back home. The sky was clearing bit by bit over the horizon and she stopped, looking at it, something in it triggering a memory, one she was sure was her own and not the implant. And she had it then, the morning she and Laurel became friends….

  She couldn’t sleep that night, dreaming about Blanche and trying to remember her parents’ faces, only she couldn’t do that for some reason, no matter how hard she tried, couldn’t remember anything but Blanche, and the scratchy surface of the rug she lay on when she played with him…. She’d walked outside to the little play area where the swings were, shivering from early morning cold, the wetness of it. The sky had just started turning from pink to light blue, only it was so clear and sharp, it looked like somebody painted it, didn’t look like it normally looked. And then she saw her, this girl she’d seen before, but didn’t know. She was sitting on the swing, her legs crossed casually at her ankles as if she wasn’t afraid of falling, and her eyes were closed, asleep closed.

  “You’re Amelia, right?” the girl asked, eyes on her now.

  She nodded.

  “Well … since we both can’t sleep, we might as well keep each other company. I’m Laurel. I don’t bite.” She giggled softly, her whole face smiling, but not in the making fun of her sort of way, in a nice way.

  How very long ago all of it seemed now. She thought it strange that she hardly ever thought about her life from back then, life before Riley. It was almost as if it wasn’t really hers, except for the Laurel parts, and then Riley and Drake parts. She smiled at how timid and afraid she was back then, how fragile. And she thought that maybe Riley didn’t mean it like that, the thing he said, but exactly how he said it to her before, because Riley never did change, not in all these years. That he meant only that he would let her go if she needed him to, even if it killed him to do it.

  She walked into their dark house, hoping Riley and Eryn were asleep and nobody would talk to her. She was too tired to talk, too exhausted from all the crying she’d done. She kicked off her shoes by the door, and then she saw him, Eryn, standing at the window, still and silent. He turned, his face still in the shadows, and she was grateful for that.

  “Eryn—”

  He put his hand up, stopping her, shaking his head. “Don’t. Please, don’t. You had every right to do it. You still do,” he said quietly and turned away from her again.

  She went into the kitchen and put up coffee and tea, knowing that there was no chance she’d sleep today, not for however few moments of the night were left to her. He was still at the window when she got back with the two kettles and cups.

  “You don’t sleep much, do you?”

  “No, Ams. I don’t.”

  “You will someday. The nightmares … they won’t always be there, and you’ll sleep then. It’s how it goes. Lancer and Max and Riley, all of them, I think, they all did this at one time or another. Brody too, worse than anybody, because of the girl he loved who got killed. You’ll sleep again, maybe not soon, but you will. But now that you are up, make yourself at home. I have tea and coffee, whatever you prefer at this hour, and I’m all talked out and cried out, so I plan on being perfectly lousy company,” she said quietly, not to wake up Riley.

  He turned, and there was a tiny smile on his face that he tried to hide as he walked over and sat across from her, his strange eyes taking in her face, and then darting down. “Thank you,” he said, reaching for the thing with coffee in it.

  They sat in silence for a long time, neither needing to say anything. She watched the light from the sky spread across the front yard and spill through the windows, bathing all the shadows in this strange brightness, making everything more distinct, yet still soft, shimmery. She caught a ghost of a smile playing on Eryn’s lips, lips she’d kissed so many times, and that she had never quite forgiven herself for kissing. His face still bore the marks of her slaps, but it wasn’t a face she knew. It was a tired face, vulnerable. A face of a man who didn’t know who he was.

  She stood and walked over to him, Eryn standing as she approached, head down, tense. She reached up on her toes, gently wrapped her hands around his neck, and kissed him softly on his cheek, the man blushing, uncomfortable, not lifting his eyes to her.

  “You’ll be alright. It doesn’t seem like it now, but you will be. I think we all will be,” she whispered against his face and took a step back.

  Eryn took a sharp breath and abruptly turned away from her, his hands covering his face, as if he needed to hide it more than he already was, and she hoped she was right; that he would find a way to live with himself, after everything. Maybe when they were finally finished with it they could all forgive themselves for things they did along the way.

  She felt large, warm hands on her shoulders, Riley’s, and it surprised her. It’s as if he suddenly learned the trick of walking the way Drake and Brody did, where you couldn’t hear them coming till they were right on top of you. She faced him, still embarrassed over last night, not quite looking at his face, but Riley grabbed her face and lifted it, holding her in place, and she couldn’t squirm away from him.

  “I have to go look for Brody. Laurel pinged me. He’s not back yet from wherever he got to. I trust you and Eryn can make some breakfast without killing each other. It’s going to be a very long day. For all of us, I think.” He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her lips and let her face go, turning towards the door, then stopped abruptly and raced back to where the bedrooms were. He came out a few minutes later holding a bundle in his hands, something covered in a large towel, and he had a strange grin on his face, eyes full of mischief. He knelt and gently set the bundle down, still holding on to it. “It sort of followed me last night…. His name is Blanche. At least I think it’s a he,” he said, pulling the towel off a light brown puppy with an asymmetrical white patch on its head, the puppy now asleep on the floor.

  She couldn’t move. Just stood there like an idiot, looking at the soft furry thing in front of her, sleeping peacefully on their scratched-up floor, Riley watching her intently. She took a few cautious steps to it, and the tail wagged, once, twice, but its eyes were still closed. She knelt next to it and reached out with a tentative, shaky hand, and touched its head. Soft, silky soft, Blanche soft, and she knew she was crying again, crying like a little kid, when she felt Riley’s arms around her, just holding her in that way he had.

  “I think I’ll take the little guy for a walk. It is a guy, in case you’re still wondering,” Eryn said, a smile in his voice, and he scooped up the softness that was Blanche and they were gone.

  Riley pulled her up, still hugging her, looking at her face. “I love you, Ams. And I’m not going anywhere, not for as long as you’ll have me, and you need to learn to trust me on that. And maybe, someday, you’ll learn to trust me on other things.” He kissed her, hard, and ran out the door, looking for Brod
y so that Laurel, too, would be all right.

  And she wanted to believe the thing she just told Eryn, that they would all be all right again, waterfall kind of all right. Soft fur on top of Blanche’s head all right. Her not killing anybody or wanting to all right.

  16

  Insomniacs

  Riley, September 29, 2244, Reston.

  He was so excited when Loren landed the flier, he couldn’t stop smiling. He was still stunned they’d pulled it off. Ams thought he was off fishing, and he knew Loren wouldn’t spill this secret, this surprise for her, because that’s just how he was.

  “What are you grinning at?” Loren asked, smiling at him.

  “Shut up, Loren.”

  “You know, the Council is going to kill us for wasting the reactors to pick up a bloody puppy, I think…. So I didn’t quite log this, is what I’m saying. Officially, the flier is where it normally is and neither one of us is on it.”

  “I gathered as much. Where the hell is he?”

  They were supposed to meet this person who had the puppy seven minutes ago now. He hated the waiting, always hated the waiting.

  He walked out into the small clearing, Loren following. He saw someone walking on the narrow path after a little while and instinctively pulled out his stunner and flicked it on. The man approached slowly, cautiously and he could see that he was cradling something, as if it were a baby, only he knew it wasn’t. He hoped Ams wouldn’t think of it like that.

  He cringed at the thought, took a deep breath, and walked over to the man, keeping his eyes on the old face. “I’m Riley, and that man behind me is Loren. He says you’ve got something for us,” he said evenly.

  The man just nodded, stopping a few steps away, unbundled the blanket and set it down on the grass, and suddenly, this felt like a really bad idea. The creature looked too much like Samson when they just got him, down to a spot of white on his head. It sniffed around for a bit and then clumsily ran to where he was standing, its little tail wagging, tentatively, he thought. He crouched and the wagging wasn’t so tentative anymore. He put his hand on the top of its head, running his fingers gently down the slope and scratching ever so lightly behind its ears, and was rewarded by a soft, warm tongue licking his palm.

  Loren handed the man whatever supplies he promised in exchange for this soft furry creature, the man thanking him and walking away without a word. He wondered if the puppy would follow him and he’d have to chase it then, but it didn’t even seem to notice the man leaving.

  He held it on his lap the whole way back, petting it softly, watching it. Loren was silent, letting him enjoy it, he guessed, until out of nowhere he started to laugh. He glared at him, but Loren couldn’t stop for the life of him, his whole face red.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “You … you’ve been talking to it funny. I’m sorry, Riley, I really am, but I never in a million years would have taken you for baby-talking-to-puppies kind of guy,” and he roared laughing again.

  He put the improvised leash he made earlier around its neck and tied it up on the side of the house, waiting for an appropriate moment to bring it in to surprise Ams. He opened the door, slowly, quietly, hoping she was already in bed or somewhere else in the house, but she was right there in front of him, only he could see nothing but her back and the knife she was holding to Eryn’s throat. The man wasn’t fighting her either, from what he could see, his face calm, eyes closed. He swallowed hard, rage clawing at him, rage at this girl impulsively doing something this kind of stupid.

  “Drop that knife,” he said through clenched teeth, pissed off, but too afraid to scream at her. He saw the thin line of blood on Eryn’s neck and knew she wasn’t bluffing, that she’d easily cut into him if he scared her enough.

  “It’s all right, Riley,” Eryn’s quiet voice, and he looked at him. Calm, too calm.

  “Drop the knife,” he said again.

  He watched as she spun around and her arm flexed, the knife flying at him. He didn’t even get a chance to blink as it thudded into the wood, not a half-meter away from his face. He didn’t think she was aiming for him, given that she’d gotten pretty good with these things over the years, certainly better than that, but it still annoyed him, her doing this, letting her temper get the better of her.

  Eryn slid down the wall and put his head into his hands, not moving anything after that. He knew she’d run now, the way she always did when she screwed up, but there was no way he was letting her, not like this. He could tell he hurt her by what he said, could see it on her, but she earned every bit of it. He was angry enough at her to want to hurt her.

  He waited for her to be gone long enough and fetched the puppy, Eryn still not looking at him, not saying anything either. He let him be while he bathed and then fed the dog, surprised at how much he enjoyed the feel of him under his hands. He took it to a spare bedroom and threw some blankets for it on the floor in the corner, hoping it’ll just sleep now. The puppy walked over and sniffed at the blankets, made two tiny, uncertain circles, and then plopped down and seemed asleep as soon as it lay down. He petted its head just once, and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

  Eryn was standing at the window when he got there, hands wrapped around the windowsill, head bowed.

  “She would have done it, I think. You know that, right?”

  “I know. I was all right with it.”

  “I will let her next time then. Or anyone else who wants a piece of you,” he said, and he knew he sounded angry. He was.

  Eryn turned, not quite looking at him still, but at least he wasn’t going to be talking to his back anymore.

  “They would have kept her there till the child was born, and there is a fifty-fifty chance it would have looked like you, not me. My mother was Zoriner. I never told you that part…. Alerton knew, but he honestly believed in all that genetic superiority stuff. Took me years to figure out why he was so interested in me…. What do you think they would have done to Ams and the baby if it came out looking like that? Here I was, supposed to show the world that even nature abhorred inter-mixing, and that’s why they made it illegal, but I was carrying all the traits in me the whole time, the traits the kid could have easily inherited. They would have killed that child, Riley. Probably would have made her watch, too.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that, couldn’t imagine anyone doing something like that, but given everything else they’d done, he knew they would have.

  “We need to get to each person on the Council and find a way to protect them and their families. Keep them safe somehow. And then we need to broadcast to everybody we can reach, broadcast everything. Lancer and Max and everyone else who’s been there will need to tell their stories. Brandon and I will have to as well, I think. All of it. It’s the only way…. Otherwise, we’ll just keep on killing each other until we all die off if we’re lucky. I don’t have it in me to fight anymore,” he said and turned away again.

  Riley fixed a quick supper for them, hoping Ams was at Laurel’s and all right, hoping she did as he asked instead of running, but he knew better than to check on her.

  They ate in silence, Eryn barely touching his food. He knew it would take him a while to feel like he belonged so he didn’t argue with him, letting him be. It was pitch black outside when they were done, Eryn helping clear the table, as if by an old habit, and he smiled at that.

  “Do you think you’ll ever play again? The piano, I mean?” he asked softly when he was done drying the dishes.

  The man blanched and shook his head, turning away from him.

  “There was this old man in Waller, where I grew up…. Brody and I used to sneak up to the little house he lived in to listen to him play. Brody’s uncle found this old piano and he gave it to this old man. He was blind, only we didn’t know that until years later. Andy felt bad for him, I think…. Anyway, we’d sneak up to the back of the house and put our faces to the window just to listen to these sounds he made on this old wooden thing. I don’t know if h
e was any good at it, never knew anyone else who played, but I remember how it felt, you know? Standing there, just listening. It was always winter when he played for some reason and I remember not wanting to go home then, even when my hands and feet were frozen, not wanting to miss the sounds that were coming out of it. I’ve no idea what he played either, probably couldn’t remember it now if I heard it again. But I miss it. I miss hearing it.”

  He grabbed some blankets and a pillow for Eryn and set it all up on the couch Telan stayed on before, the man thanking him quietly. He wasn’t tired enough to sleep yet, but he didn’t want to talk anymore and he didn’t want to keep pacing around the house waiting for Ams. He lay in bed with his eyes closed for the longest time, listening to the rustling of the trees outside and an occasional call of some nocturnal bird, and finally, he drifted off, dreaming of Waller, the smells and sounds of it flooding into him. Andy’s warehouse smell, the gritty, coal-dusty smell of always late Springs there, the strangely mildewy smell of the new buds on the still naked trees…. And he heard it then, the sounds the old blind man made come out from the strange keys of that piano, soft at first then getting louder. And he could feel the sadness in it, the thing he played, something mournful, full of longing.

  He was suddenly awake. He checked on the puppy, who was still blissfully asleep and went out into the dark dining room. He almost jumped at the shadow at the window and then remembered that Eryn stayed over.

  The man turned, looking at him. “She’ll be all right, you know,” he whispered.

  “I know. I just couldn’t sleep. Want anything? Coffee, a drink?”

  Eryn shook his head. “Do you still want to hear it? The piano?”

  “I do,” he said, without thinking about it.

  “All right,” Eryn said simply and walked out the door.