Paradise of Lead Trilogy

by Mackenzie Morris

  As soon as they fall to the floor, Blice holds up his hands and a burst of black fog spreads out around the man. With the clap of his hands, a glittering purple haze sparks to life between his outstretched hands. Dark matter magic. Blice's eyes match the deep purple swirling inside the membrane of black.

  "Blice, don't!" Leena shouts. "Don't kill him too. Take a breath and let it fade. I know you can do this. Don't make this same mistake again. Do it for me. I think you owe me at least that much for what happened in Styx."

  Blice glares at her and opens his mouth as if he is about to say something then stops. He looks around at the men with their weapons drawn now and aiming at him. He locks eyes with the leader. Reluctantly, he sends the mass of magic hurling at the far wall instead of at Alexi. The dark matter spreads out and dissolves the wall, leaving a jagged glowing hole. Blice then picks up his sunglasses, puts them back on, and goes upstairs.

  Byron hears the van door shut and rock music cranked up loud. What was that about? He looks at Leena who is holding onto one of the support columns and staring at the floor. As Damien and Isidore talk to the Rubble Rebels, Byron goes to Leena and takes her in his arms.

  She sighs and holds him tightly as she buries her face in his chest. "Please don't ask what I know you are going to ask."

  "What am I going to ask?"

  "Stop. We're not talking about this right now." Leena says.

  Byron lifts her face to look at him. "What happened in Styx? Isn't that the city with the lead gates on the East Coast?"

  "Yes. I was born there." Leena says. "We're not talking about this."

  "So, I learned something else today."

  "What's that?"

  "You are a liar." Byron says. "So you do know Blice. You have some sort of history with him."

  "It's not what you think. Believe me, it's not what you think. You can't breathe a word of this to him. Promise me."

  "I promise." He actually doesn't. If Byron finds out that Blice has hurt Leena in the past, then Blice's days will be numbered.

  Leena sighs. "I knew him before he . . . changed. He's nothing like the man he was before the accident. If you haven't noticed, Blice is all about accidents. I guess that's what something as chaotic as dark matter gets you. I first met him about three years ago. Then there was an accident with his magic in Styx and him and I came out here to Rubble City together. We weren't romantic or anything. Shortly after that, he left. I don't know where he was, but apparently part of that time was spent in prison with you."

  "What was the accident?"

  "I . . . um . . . I don't know." Leena says. "He never told me. We used to talk a lot more than we do now. I miss him. But don't worry. It's nothing like I feel for you. He was more of a big brother to me. I looked up to him even though I knew what he had done. He would sing to me and . . . never mind."

  Wait, what? "Sing to you?"

  "I misspoke. He would write songs for me." She twists her tiny silver ring around her finger and watches the men talking.

  "What's that ring?"

  Leena stomps her foot and pushes him away. "Byron, stop. It's nothing. I'm not hiding anything from you."

  "Oh really?"

  "Yes, really."

  "Well, maybe if you told me things without me having to ask, I would believe you."

  She puts her hands on her hips. "Maybe if you told me you love me, I would tell you things."

  He glares at her. "That's never going to happen."

  "Then don't expect me to be an open book."

  "You opened your legs to me pretty quick."

  Leena slaps him across the face. "How dare you?"

  Everyone in the room stops talking and looks at them.

  Byron grabs Leena's arms and pushes her to her knees. Silence hangs in the air as Byron's cheek stings and he tries to control the surging of his magic. It is pulsating and growing, intensifying and the need is beyond what he can manage. Before he can stop it, he sends a blast of flames onto her arms.

  Leena screams out as everyone runs to her and they quickly put the fire out.

  Something's wrong. Byron can't control it anymore. The flames engulf the room and spread out on the walls. He is sending flames at the people who are trying to tend to Leena and no matter how much he tries to fight against it, the magic continues.

  The Rubble Rebels try to surround Byron, but his flames leap from his hands. No matter what he tries to do in order to stop it, it keeps flaring up. Something heavy slams in to the back of his head and he sinks to the floor as the world turns black in his vision.

  * * *

  When Byron wakes up and comes to his senses, the first thing he notices is that his magic feels different. Instead of the constant, never fading tingle in his arms, it is now numb and almost unnoticeable. The second thing he notices is Leena in Blice's arms outside the window with gauze wrapped around her forearms. Her eyes are pink like she has been crying. The third thing Byron notices is that he is in the van and tied down. He can't move.

  Damien slides open the door and leans inside. "Well . . . welcome back to the world of the living. Though, you might not stay alive for long after Leena gets done with you. You've been out of it since yesterday. So, are you okay now?"

  Byron tries to remember what happened before he blacked out. Oh yah . . . his magic went crazy and he hurt Leena. "I hope so. What was that? Why was my magic doing that?"

  Damien unties Byron and sits next to him. "You're having slip ups. You have to take the pills or this is only going to get worse. We already gave you some and you should be good for a while. You need to understand how close you came to losing Leena today."

  "I didn't think it could get that bad. Is she okay?"

  "As good as someone with third degree burns on both arms from wrist to elbow can be. Luckily one of the Rubble Rebels can use regeneration magic. It's not as bad as it could have been. She should be fully healed in a few weeks. Also, Blice has taken it on himself to protect Leena from you." He fishes in his pocket and holds out a note. "He wanted me to give this to you."

  Byron takes it and reads it.

  If you touch Leena one more time, I will personally disembowel you with a rusty spoon then strangle you with your own intestines. Then as you are struggling to breathe, I will drag you through the streets of Rubble City behind the van. Once you are on the verge of death, I will impale you on a metal pole and place you at the city gate for everyone to see. Oh, and for good measure, I will set you on fire so you can know the pain you have inflicted on her. You don't deserve to have her and I will see to it that you never do again. She loves you and you treat her like trash. I will not stand back and watch such a wonderful woman be used and abused by some wretched bully like you. I would sleep with one eye open if I were you. I'm not above slitting throats while people sleep. This is your one warning. Heed this warning or die.

  For someone who can't speak, Blice certainly has a way with words. "Um . . . maybe I should go apologize."

  "He means it, Byron." Damien says.

  "I figured. He was very clear on the matter. I screwed up big this time, didn't I?"

  He pats Byron's shoulder. "We have got to work on how you deal with women. Leena's been with Blice ever since your accident. They seem pretty close. You might have lost your woman to a druggy who can't talk."

  "How do I fix this?"

  "I'll try to get Blice to go into town with me and give you and Leena some time to talk over things. I'm warning you, though. If I catch you not taking your pills, I will have to keep her away from you. You are too dangerous without them."

  "I didn't mean to hurt her." Byron says. "You believe me, don't you?"

  "I'm not the one you need to be trying to convince of that."

  10

  After everyone leaves and the night is growing darker, Byron watches Leena and listens to the sad song she sings. What can he say to make this better? Will she ever be able to forgive him for this? Probably not. Byron has never had much luck with being forgiven or being ab
le to forgive. Even looking back over what happened yesterday, he still can't believe what he did. Byron might be a rough man at times, but he has never harmed a woman, especially not the one person he truly . . . no. He's still not going to say it. Even if he thinks it, he runs the risk of saying it out loud. He refuses to fall into that trap.

  Byron is surprised when Leena comes and sits beside him up against the side of the van. She looks at him and takes a deep breath. "Hi there. I hope Blice's letter didn't scare you too much. He's just a bit protective of me."

  "I understand." Byron says. "I should be more protective of you, but I'm the one who hurt you."

  "I trusted you and you did that."

  "Leena, I'm sorry." What else can he say?

  She doesn't say anything.

  He reaches out to touch her shoulder, but he stops. "Do you mind if I touch you? I can't hurt you right now. The pills are working. I promise."

  "Do whatever you want. This is why I didn't want to be involved romantically with a M.A.G.E. again."

  "Again?" Byron asks.

  "Never mind."

  The last thing Byron wants is for Leena to close herself off from him more. So he doesn't press the issue. Instead, he puts his arm around her back and holds her close. He changes the subject. "I was thinking that we could leave these people behind tomorrow and go do something alone. Would you like that?"

  "Do whatever you want." Leena says.

  "Why do you keep saying that to me? I want to know what you want. I'm sorry for prying into your past. I was out of line. I realize that. I just feel like I need to know everything about you so I can know how to protect you."

  "I can protect myself. Besides, we have plans for tomorrow already."

  "Who's we?" Byron asks.

  "Blice and I. We are going to an abandoned Inquisition warehouse where he thinks some equipment might be stored."

  "Can I come?" He doesn't want to be left out. Plus, he still doesn't trust Blice to be alone with her. Maybe Blice has gotten over his anger for Byron. Probably not, but it's a risk he is willing to take.

  "Do whatever you want." She grins at him.

  "Oh, so now you're playing around."

  "I know you didn't mean to hurt me." Leena says. "You're a good guy, Byron. But please keep taking those pills. Don't worry about my arms. They are healing just fine. Regeneration magic is very powerful."

  The memories and nightmares of his time with the Inquisition come back to him now and it pains him even more to know that he made Leena suffer even a fraction of that same kind of pain. "I know. It heals burns very well."

  "You've been burned before?" Leena asks.

  If only she knew. "Every inch of my body."

  "What happened?"

  "The Inquisition happened. I was a boy and they thought it was funny."

  Leena sighs and leans into his chest. "The Inquisition did that?"

  "Yep."

  "They're not all bad, you know? Some of them really do care about people and doing the right thing."

  Is she insane? "All I've ever seen from them is evil."

  "They are trying to heal the wasteland and bring the earth back to what it was before the war. Not just inside the lead-walled cities but for everyone. Some things you won't be able to understand until the time comes. I know that you hate them, but they are doing the noblest thing they can do. Even M.A.G.E.s were intended to make life better for people and be weapons to protect Paradise and the other cities. President Evans isn't the terrible man that everyone out here believes he is. If they would only open their eyes and see the truth, they would understand that." She slides away from him and waves at Isidore as he comes back to the van. "I'm going to go help the children I have been working with in town. Okay?" She puts her bandaged hand against Byron's face and kisses him. "I forgive you."

  "Have fun. Tell them I said hi."

  She smiles as she starts walking away. "I will."

  "Let me walk you, at least part way." Byron says as he joins her side.

  When they are out of sight, he says goodbye to Leena and goes back to the van. He ducks down behind a wall and watches Isidore. He really should stop spying on everyone, but these people are so strange that Byron feels the need to investigate them more.

  Isidore starts the van and takes a deep breath as he turns the radio on and finds a station without any music. He takes his shirt off and runs his hands over the window, the ceiling, the gear shift, the console.

  Byron watches Isidore. He needs to know what is going on with that man. This is getting strange already, but he needs to understand what is going on in Isidore's mind. Is he a machine or is he more human than that? Does he actually have an intimate relationship with the van? Surely not . . . but the way he is acting right now, it is almost as if he was caressing a woman's curves.

  Isidore turns up the radio and lays his head on the steering wheel as he listens to the static. He glides his hand over the slight curve of the dashboard. "Oh, Vanessa."

  Vanessa? So he's named the van. Interesting. How far is this going to go? How much is Byron comfortable with watching?

  For an hour, Isidore stays there and slowly traces the steering wheel with soft kisses. As he holds the wheel close to his bare chest and looks out over the expanse of the wasteland, Byron notices in the dying sunlight that Isidore is crying.

  Isidore gets out of the van and closes the door. He lies down on his stomach on the hood of the van and runs his hands over the black metal. "Vanessa, I'm scared. You've always been there for me and I know that you're getting older and might not last much longer. I can't lose you. I hear the way the sound of your engine changes every day and I am terrified that I will go to wake you up one morning and you won't start. You're falling apart, baby. You know I will always love you. Don't cry. You are still as beautiful to me as the day I found you." He gently kisses the windshield and holds onto the side mirror. "Let's enjoy the time we have together right now, okay? You've helped me through so much. I love you, Vanessa."

  Well, this is beyond what Byron thought was going on. So Isidore really and truly is in love with his van. Is he crazy or is this what Blice was saying about T.I.M.E.s and their attraction to electronic and mechanical things? This isn't just an attraction, though. It is almost as if Isidore is truly connected and loves Vanessa as he would a human woman.

  Byron sinks deeper into his confusion and anger with himself. Isidore can tell an inanimate object the he loves it, but Byron can't tell the one person he has ever felt this deep and all-consuming connection with the same thing. Maybe he's a coward. If Isidore can know when he loves someone . . . or something, then shouldn't Byron be able to do the same? Isidore's voice breaks him out of his thoughts.

  "I know you're there, Byron."

  Well, this isn't good. Byron really needs to learn how to be sneakier. Maybe Isidore won't be as angry as Blice was. Byron stands and brushes the dirt from his pants before going to the van. "Hi, Isidore."

  Isidore sits up and shakes his head. "So, I guess you know now . . . about Vanessa."

  "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been watching you."

  He shrugs his shoulders and goes back inside. "It's fine."

  Byron sits in the passenger seat. "Mind if I ask you some things?"

  "Go ahead."

  "Do you love her?" Byron asks.

  Isidore sits down and wraps his arms around the steering wheel. "More than you can ever understand. She is my everything and if I lost her, if she stopped working, I would lose a part of myself. We complete each other." Isidore slips on his shirt. "I know I probably sound insane to you, but that's how I feel and I can't ignore it. Growing up, I thought I had issues, that I wasn't mentally right. I was scared because I felt this intimate connection with electronics and machines. That's why I became a priest. I had to know if I was sinning or going against God. I felt really bad and confused. Now that we know I'm a T.I.M.E., it all makes perfect sense. I've never had a human girlfriend. Before I met Vanessa, I had a digital watch that I w
ould carry around and talk to like it was human. To me, it always was. I don't know how to explain it any clearer for you in a way that you will be able to understand."

  "No, it's okay. I'm starting to understand, I think." Byron says.

  "When I was in prison, there was an air conditioning unit right outside the wall of my cell. I would listen to it all night long, the whirring of the motor, the sounds it made when it powered up. It comforted me. I would have given anything to have ten minutes with it. It was my best friend for the four months I was in there. Occasionally I could get close to the electronic door switches or the alarm consoles. But being isolated in that cell without any kind of technology really was the worst part of it all."

  "Do you wish you were just a computer?" Byron asks.

  "More than you know." Isidore says. "If I could, I would rewire my brain and remove that human awareness so I could be just a machine. I need it more and more every day and I have come to the scary conclusion that I don't know who I am. On top of that, I don't want to be human. Humans are liabilities and the computer side of me is so much more reliable. It makes sense. It deals with facts and numbers and formulas. It is constant and never fails like the human side of me."

  "But the technology can't love you back." Byron says.

  "You're one to talk about love, Byron. And yes, it can. I feel a connection with them all. Those computers we found under that shack? I could hear them all, their workings, their breathing. They are alive in their own way and I met friends yesterday. And before you ask, yes, I was attracted to all of them, especially the one I touched and almost died because of it. There was something about the way it was processing information that I found irresistible."

  "Do they have different personalities?"

  "Yep." Isidore says. "Every piece of technology has a different kind of voice or way of transmitting information that reveals what my mind perceives as human emotions and behaviors. I know you don't understand and for years, I haven't either."

  "Are you attracted to human women?"

  He laughs. "No . . . not like I am to technology. I never have been. There's something about the vulnerability of the human aspect that turns me off. I don't want to get involved with something so chaotic like that. I almost . . . I was almost with a girl, but then there was a toaster oven . . . and things got heated."