The Uninvited (The Julianna Rae Chronicles Book 1)

by Aral Bereux

  ‘Missing something, Julianna?’

  Her head flicked in the direction of the familiar voice cutting through the darkness. She moved her lips, but words fell silent when she eyed the single sparkplug he teased between his fingers. He ambled casually, his Militia boots falling heavily into the puddles left by yesterday’s rain. The gold medallion he wore around his neck caught the moonlight as it swayed beneath his open collar.

  He stopped short of the bike. ‘You could greet an old acquaintance,’ he said, ‘It’s the only polite thing left to do.’

  She blinked, her breathing halted. There was nowhere to go. She scanned the area. Nowhere to freaking go. I should have said yes.

  He remained solid, his feet wide apart. He waved the sparkplug again before slipping it into his pocket.

  ‘These little babies are hard to come by, aren’t they?’ he teased.

  She glanced at her walker nemesis closing in behind Taris. ‘Your crews have access to the best parts in the States. You could help a gal out and give it back.’

  His expression darkened. She’d added another offence to her growing list of charges. Article 228 or 224, 2-something: referring to the New World as the United States. That part of history was long gone; no united front these days but for the Rebellion versus Militia.

  Taris ignored her. ‘I forgot your talent as a dancer, but a strip club? A new one on me.’ He pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket, lit it and pocketed the lighter. ‘When I heard you were here,’ he exhaled. ‘I had to see for myself.’

  ‘How long have—’

  ‘Have I known?’ he raised an interrogative eyebrow. ‘I came as soon as I heard. My men rave about you.’ He nodded his head. ‘When I saw your stage photo…’ He pointed the cigarette at her. ‘Knew straight away it was you. Then old faithful over there told me about his run-in with a blonde. You change your hair from red to blonde like you do your knickers. Convinced me I had the right girl.’

  She shook her head. ‘For the grace of God, can this day get any worse?’

  He was casual. The shifting of his weight and raising his gaze to the stars above and then to the alleyway itself was part of a bigger objective. There were others supporting him. She squinted at the darker shadows, one of them moved before slipping out of her sight.

  He smiled, putting a hand in the pocket holding the sparkplug. ‘God has nothing to do with it, Julianna. Remember, us watchers were cast out with the hand of God and thrown into the lap of the Devil himself, or something like that. Yadda, yadda, yadda.’ He pulled a hand to scratch his eyebrow. ‘Anyways, your family are looking for you.’ He stepped around the bike and leaned over her. ‘I’ve been looking for you, and I made a promise to bring you in, so…’ He held out his hands with a here I am gesture and a Cheshire cat smile before taking the cigarette between his lips again.

  The shadows moved over. Taris sauntered into her field of vision, blocking her view with his body.

  ‘So here we are.’ He faced her. The cigarette between his fingers moved with his embellished gestures. ‘You’ve become this very difficult creature to find and I’ve been looking since the day you left my hospitality.’

  ‘Keeping you on your toes,’ she said.

  ‘True that.’ He nodded his head casually in agreement. ‘Jillie, it’s high time you came home. Initiation is overdue. You have family obligations to fulfill. Militia obligations. I’m happy to overlook everything else if you come along quietly.’

  She raised her eyes. ‘Why would I do that?’

  He took a last drag, exhaling as he spoke and flicked the spent cigarette into a puddle. She watched its embers die. The shadows behind him reflected in the water, stretching in patterns along the small ripples until they died out along the edges.

  ‘You really going down that path, sweetheart? Let’s keep it civil tonight.’

  Taris closed the space between them, leaning his palms flat against the bluestone walls to lock her between his arms while they scrutinized each other. She could smell the alcohol and smoke on his breath.

  ‘Taz, come on, man, it was a joke. You know I hate being cooped up in small areas.’

  He lowered his lips into her ear. ‘You almost cost me a promotion. You cost me two officers and you cost me Caden Madison.’

  She shrugged. ‘So you got me. Wanna’ go for a drink or something?’

  He made a biting motion at her face and she pulled back. ‘Or something.’

  He glanced at the hand she had bitten at the camp. Two white rectangles where her front teeth had dug deepest dented the skin. He lifted it to stroke her soft cheek, and even when she pulled away, she didn’t lose his touch. His hand worked down her neck to her shoulder and she cringed with the pain it sent as he dug his fingers into the freshly healed skin. He enjoyed her discomfort, clawing deeper and then continuing his journey over her breast and down to her hip, giving it a firm squeeze as he travelled.

  His expression changed. The feeling of the comms beneath his hand stopped him. ‘What’s this then?’ he teased, slipping them from their pocket.

  He teased her with them above his head. She stood on her toes to reach them, and when she couldn’t she pushed his chest away. Julianna didn’t expect his hand to pale down into her face like it did, sending her teeth through her tongue and her body against the wall.

  ‘So you’re in the thick of it if you’re carrying these around.’ He checked over his shoulder to the Militia stepping into the light. Three of them including her rival, and Taris made four. ‘Well, well, my dear. You’re royally fucked now, aren’t you? No getting away from the fact that you’re a Rebel traitor. This carries the death penalty, you know?’

  The tips of her fingers reached for the knife that wasn’t there. She’d left it on the dressing room counter. A smaller one tucked against her waist. ‘It’s nothing you want,’ she said

  ‘Really? Nothing I could possibly want.’

  She nodded.

  ‘So you want them back?’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘Arrest her. We’ll deal with the rest at Central.’

  She kicked his knee. Grinding bones splintered in the force from her assault. His guards cringed, and Taris cursing, fell to one knee, clutching the other.

  ‘Bitch!’ he yelled.

  She snatched the comms from his weakened grip and sprinted toward the main street, throwing her arm behind each comms as she smashed them down into the ground, knowing he would heal himself in moments. The shattered pieces bounced shards around her feet as she raced away. They walked steadily toward her. Slowly. Steadily. Calmly.

  His imperceptible reach strangled her neck, clasping down on her until she fell onto her knees, gasping for each breath. She clawed at her skin to loosen the grip that wasn’t seen. She suffocated under his invisible squeeze, and with nothing to pull away from, it tightened with each breath she drew. His fist clenched and the suffocation took over as his footsteps reared up behind her back to watch her struggle.

  The wind swirled around her; with a gust, picking the broken comms glass into a high funnel, sparkling like glitter, obeying its Commander to return to their original forms. Her eyes widened as the fully-formed comms plates danced into his reach, completely undamaged and whole again.

  ‘Thought you knew better.’ Taris ignored the wet ground to crouch beside her, his knee fully healed. She looked at him with big eyes, panting, trying to pull any air that she could into her searing lungs. He placed the newly reformed comms into his shirt pocket.

  ‘Camp 4.5.2 is nothing compared to where you’re going now, and guess who’s running the show?’ His release sent a rush of blood and dizziness through her. Grey wings floated before her eyes and stars popped like fireworks as her head slammed down. Her body drew in large, ragged gulps of air.

  ‘We’ve discovered a new therapy for troubled comrades. It’s having some pleasing results, too. Ninety percent success rate. The other ten, well...’ He sighed. ‘Can’t be helped, casualties of war.’

 
; Her hair hung in the puddles, though she propped herself up. Julianna’s neck throbbed and her chest ached from the suffocation. Any healing done in the last few days unraveled, with little hope of mending.

  She looked at him in silence.

  ‘You’re my next subject.’

  ‘Like hell,’ she panted.

  He moved a wet strand of hair caught between her lips. It gripped onto her skin, stubborn under his insisting fingers. ‘It may well be, sweetheart.’

  The Militia officers pointed their assault rifles in her direction, ready to fire. The hum of a hover drone sailed along the laneway mid-level to her chest and started bobbing in the air inches from her face. The officer from the club held handcuffs.

  Taris hauled her by the healed shoulder into his grasp. She leaned into his chest unsteadily and she wholeheartedly agreed with him she was indeed in a very tight situation.

  ‘Cuff her, and then search her before she goes on the truck. Once she’s processed at Central, we’ll take her to the camp.’ He roughly raised her chin. ‘Try anything and my men will shoot you. Clear?’

  His black eyes held her gaze for a very long time. She sheepishly accepted. ‘Crystal,’ she whispered.

  * * * *

  The truck was a fortress in its own right. The heavy doors slammed shut, and two guards shackled her wrists and ankles. They took seats, one on the platform across from her, the other beside her. Julianna lowered her head away from their eyes and weapons pointing. She entwined her fingers to rest them in her lap and surveyed her enclosure from under her wet hair.

  The thick bolt locks slid across the armored doors. Muffled words exchanged; she sat back and waited. She doubted Caden could escape this one, and she thought the same for herself. They weren’t risking anything, not this time. The silver cuffs restraining her wrists confirmed the Commander’s thoughts. The same ones had restrained Caden in the camp. Taris believed she was a watcher with abilities – or he wasn’t risking a damned thing. Either way, the feeling of him screwing her over, overwhelmed her.

  The officers sat guarded, with their weapons in their grasp. Julianna assessed. The officer sitting across from her, held a sniper rifle, with the stock to the floor and the muzzle pointed high. The officer to her right, pushed a Sig Sauer into her ribs.

  The window slide opened and the cage between their cabin and the driver’s compartment was of welded mesh. Taris peered through it from the other side, glancing in from his passenger seat, and focused more on her than his soldiers. He moved his eyes briefly to the left, not turning his head an inch, and they gave him a nod. Everything was according to plan. Everything was as ordered. Julianna met his stare before the door slid shut with a hard bang against its metal frame.

  The truck started. The guard escort ignored its engine echo, their steely glares didn’t falter. Her welded cage was steel and solid, bulletproof. A gun would collect all three with the ricochet if they pulled a trigger. The officers monitored her every move. She lowered her head, focusing on her cuffed wrists. Nemesis boy must have been relegated driving duty. A reward for his find, riding shotgun with the boss, promoted from cabin boy to driving bitch. She dropped the smile under the guards glare. She needed a plan, or a miracle.

  A road bump jumped the Sig’s muzzle hard against her ribs. She pulled away as much as the shackles allowed, but the officer moved with her. On the other side of the wall, Taris spoke to his driver. The comms were the center of topic. For the Militia, tonight was a good night. For the Rebellion and Caden Madison, her heart sunk. Her shoulder ached, too, but her heart stung in a million places at the thought of potentially exposing his location.

  ‘I need to pee,’ she said, looking at him with her big eyes. He glanced at her dancing legs. ‘I really need to pee. You wouldn’t have a girl wet herself, now would you?’

  He lowered his Sig. ‘Commander.’ There was no answer until he called again.

  The sliding door opened. ‘What?’ Taris’s voice was sharp.

  ‘Commander, now?’ Julianna said.

  ‘Says she has to take a piss or she’ll wet herself.’

  Taris met her eyes. ‘Let her, then.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘It’s a fucking ruse, Sergeant, seriously.’ He slid the door shut again. ‘Fucking norms,’ he said from behind it.

  ‘Yeah, Sergeant, seriously,’ she mimicked.

  Her legs stopped dancing and her elbow connected into his chin, crumpling him over his Sig where he sat. She dashed for it, holding it awkwardly between her cuffed hands, shuffling its weight until she aimed at the sniper as it rose in her direction.

  She shook her head and cocked the gun, knowing the double trigger action needed engaging once. One bump and his head would splash the sterile interior in a crimson red. He dropped the rifles muzzle to the floor.

  The truck journeyed on, its front passengers oblivious to the unfolding events. The sounds muffled enough for a minimal scuffle, but she glanced at the small trap window that could open anytime for a head check. She needed to hurry. Julianna reached for the keys latched onto the unconscious guard’s belt. Her gun moved from the sniper and he lunged forward. The truck swerved and they flung heavily into the doors.

  The second officer was stunned from a strike to the head. She heard more noise. Bikes were overtaking the truck on each side as she slipped the cuffs away. Taris cursed loudly at another bump in the road and they swerved again. The unconscious officer fell in a heavy heap while the other nursed his head, still blinded from the blow. The first sharp veer made his rifle drop under the window and near her feet, and she saw the traces of blood smeared across his face as the light caught him.

  The truck screeched to a halt. She steadied herself, the key turned in the shackles lock, they bounced open on their spring load and she freed herself quietly.

  Julianna stood center of the cabin with the gun hanging from her hand. The truck’s engine had stopped its noise. She checked the Sig’s full magazine twice and rose its sights to the doors. Her legs parted in the firm stance that Taris had taught her, disregarding the two men slumped in the cabin.

  Guns fired. She crouched instinctively. Outside, the sound bounced over the orders barked at the driver to unlock the doors. Taris wouldn’t expect his men in a heap and it was getting ugly out there, she thought. He needed their backup.

  She pressed her lips together and waited for the noise to stop. The gun weighed heavily as she held the sights high, following the crunch of footsteps against gravel until they stopped at the doors. They pivoted in the dirt, the bolts slid back, the padlocks snapped open, and she held her breath in hope.

  Her heart sank. Taris stood in front of the bodies lying dead. She counted two in their own blood from the headshots he’d delivered. Behind him, a Rebel in bike gear pointed his gun and dragged his foot like an injured wing.

  Taris raised his arm casually; without effort, he lined his target up to take him out with a single shot. Julianna watched in horror as the man fell to his knees. The bullet left a tidy hole gaping in his visor right where his nose would have been, and then he collapsed face down into the dirt.

  Taris turned his gun in her direction. ‘Drop it!’ He paced to the left, swinging the truck door wide. It violently opened, swinging on its hinges to return. Taris pushed it away with more deliberation, holding her in his gun’s sights.

  She curled her finger around the trigger.

  ‘Julianna, so help me, drop the fucking gun or I will fucking shoot you right between your fucking eyes.’

  Under his command, the weapon slipped from her grasp and she raised her hands in defeat as she stared at the bodies behind him. Her head reeled as Taris fixated on her every action. The driver appeared from the side, holstering his sidearm to his thigh.

  ‘We could have been followed,’ he said.

  Taris clutched a fistful of shirt and dragged the unconscious officer out until he fell to the ground, to fire his gun into the officer’s head. Blood painted the step and sprayed her hand. Tari
s remained unmoved, turning his attention to the second failed soldier before stealing a sharp scowl at her. He propped the soldier against the inside wall, deliberating his next assault. She wiped the back of her hand madly against her pants.

  ‘Fucking norms,’ he said, and raised his foot onto the step before leveraging himself into the cabin. ‘Doesn’t matter, we’re almost in Sector One.’

  He pushed her onto the bench and crouched down to shackle her ankles again. ‘No one’s ever breached Sector One’s gates…’ He snatched the keys still curled in her hand. ‘And I’ll take those, thank you.’

  ‘You want me to call it in?’ The driver raised his portable radio.

  Taris nodded. He cuffed her wrists again. ‘Call it in. Have a crew down here to clean up, then get us moving.’ He checked the cuffs and tightened them. ‘We’re open out here, I don’t like it.’

  He snapped Julianna a glance again and held her in it, not willing to let go. The doors slammed shut and he sat across with his Sig pointing to her chest.

  She listened to the truck, gradually gaining speed on the empty road. Curfew had happened hours ago; anyone out now would get arrested and housed in camp 2.2.1 or Central Command for processing. The fear she felt wasn’t unnoticed with her captor. She’d never graced Central Command with her presence, and boy, oh boy, she thought, she was in for a treat.

  Julianna peered at Taris. His mouth curled in the corners, as he watched her hands rubbing over her cargo pants to move the blood away. His smile broadened more and her hands stopped moving.

  ‘Seen Madison around?’

  ‘Not since the camp. You?’ Her hands itched to move again.

  His gaping stare made her turn away. She levered herself against the wall of the truck.

  ‘You’re lying. I can smell him on you,’ he said. ‘Even before we were bound, I could tell when you lied.’ He leaned forward and lowered his voice. ‘When we reach Central Command, I have a little something waiting for you, a gift.’ His smile unnerved her.

  Julianna resisted the urge to bite back.