‘I’m not staring. I’m just thinking.’ Aaron said, blinking.
Sam was walking in front, appearing blissfully in awe of Shawn’s humorous company. She laughed sweetly, and her cheeks flushed a bright pink. Her shiny, golden braid, now pale and brassy from the dirt, swayed calmly against her spine with every step she took. Aaron’s glance broke back to Melanie, who was smiling curiously at him.
‘Okay, if you say so.’ She said.
‘I’m serious Mel. Sam’s my friend, and it’s natural for me to be concerned for her.’
Melanie deepened her gaze, studying Shawn’s profile. His dark and curly hair had reflected off the sunlight, and his thick, black eyelashes fluttered along to his every heartbeat. Melanie saw, from his ripped off sleeves, that he had broadly chiselled shoulders, and a small tattoo of a broken star. His smooth skin was naturally tanned, and from what she had heard, he had a fairly deep voice.
‘What’s to be concerned of?’ Melanie swooned.
Aaron rolled his eyes.
‘You’re right.’ He admitted, slowing in pace. ‘I should rather be worrying about more important things. Like where we’re going to find water.’ Aaron cleared his throat, feeling it parch, and glanced down at the rolling hills of sand below them. From that far up, it allowed him to study most of the desert from a much broader spectrum. Alas there was nothing more but lifeless, red sand as far as the eye could see.
Aaron pricked his eyes. He saw the small silhouette of the ghost town peacefully resting on the far off horizon, fooling him into thinking that it’s closer than the actual travel.
‘It’s probably an entire day’s walk.’ Eric said. He opened his mouth and gawked at dry air. He felt the raw meat of his tongue slicing up against his sharp teeth, waling for water as a fish on dry land.
‘You’re right.’ Aaron said. ‘We won’t survive it.’
‘I saw something big at the bottom of the dune earlier. Maybe it could be an abandoned water tank or something?’ Melanie shrugged.
Not only had she hoped it to be true for the others’ sake, but entirely for her own personal gain as well. Her skin had felt brittle, and her once smooth locks had become frizzy and frail.
‘I hope you’re right.’ Viper uttered from the back of the group. Her scratchy voice had released a miserable grunt. ‘Because if you’re not, the dehydration better kill Sam, otherwise I will!’
* * *
Shawn and Sam had been leading up front, battling both with the scorching rays of the sun, and a fierce ascending wind that sent sharp grinds of sand slicing into their bare flesh. Even though she hadn’t shown it, Sam’s mind was crowded with cruel thoughts of what might happen to them:
One after the other collapsing; roasting away as they’d been put out to barbeque; completely covered up as the northern wind had risen to a fatal sand storm.
A devouring tinge of guilt had boiled vigorously at the pit of Sam’s stomach, regretting to not have done this alone. She sighed.
‘Don’t worry,’ Shawn said as if he’d read Sam’s mind. ‘I’m sure we’ll find water soon.’ He teasingly shoved her aside. Her shoulder was soft, and the slight dampness of sweat had forged his to hers, causing them to momentarily stick together.
Sam strained a smile.
‘I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the news had travelled that Viper’s finally admitted to wanting to kill me.’ She said. ‘Trust me, we need this water!’
Sam strolled onward, miserably and tired, squinting up at the pale-red sky. She couldn’t help but cringe when her left foot suddenly plunged into a bulging piece of stone.
‘Ouch!’ Sam cried. She plummeted forward, and into Shawn’s arms.
His firm grip had seized her palms, and his strong, wide arms had enfolded her waist, pulling her in closer. Shawn’s neck had the slight scent of burning wood that crept around his collar. It was a bitter-sweet charcoal aroma, prickling at Sam’s nose.
Within a matter of seconds, Sam stumbled to her feet, and continued onwards. She felt as though both her cheeks were burning up, and all air had been drained from her lungs.
‘Thanks.’ She said, swiping a blonde strand of hair from her eyes.
‘Don’t mention it.’ Shawn smiled. He paused. ‘Maybe next time you’ll think twice before settling for Aaron instead of me.’
‘What are you talking about? ’
‘You know, last night…’
‘Do you seriously think that’s what happened?’
‘You seemed all too comfortable settling in next to him instead of me!’ Shawn gasped. His right foot kicked at the sand, sending spiralling clouds of red dust soaring through the air.
‘Aaron’s my best friend Shawn! You can’t expect me not to want to see if he’s okay.’ Sam said. ‘Besides, I barely even know you!’
Sam bit her tongue.
‘Well…get to know me then.’ Shawn said, not even angry. His left eyebrow slightly rose, and happily approved when seeing Sam frown. ‘Hi, I’m Shawn.’ He said, playfully offering his hand as if to just have met her.
Sam watched seriously as Shawn’s hand hovered before her.
‘Sam.’ She laughed, and placed her hand into his. It was a perfect fit, as if every crease of hers were meant to fit into his. There was a short seize of electricity; creeping under her skin; shocking her; pumping through her veins; and blanking her mind from any other thought.
Shawn had made Sam feel like an electric cable: Easily transporting thousands of Watts in a mere few seconds, but can just as easily be broken by the simple snip of a small piece of scissors.
Sam gasped for breath. She’d known from the very moment that she’d met Shawn, he was a choking hazard.
‘I don’t believe it!’ Luna cried, her shrilling voice carrying all the way from the very back of the group. ‘I see…water!’
She trampled forward and broke past the others.
Sam, who had flinched at the sound of Luna’s sudden regained vocals, yanked hand her from Shawn’s. She felt as though all thoughts of worry had instantly gushed back to its original place of origin (her gut). ‘Where?’ Sam asked.
‘Over there!’ Melanie said. ‘I told you I’d seen something!’
Sam scoured the desert. Her eyes feasted upon an old, concrete sewage pipe, conveniently resting at the bottom of the dune. A greenish puddle of chunky water had stilly streamed from within, pooling around its edges.
Sam pulled up her nose. Its awfully sour odour reeked of aged fish and off milk.
‘Come on!’ Luna cried. She dashed towards the pipe, all the others short on her heels, and without even thinking started ploughing at the water in thirst.
They lapped it up as if it was the best tasting water in the entire world.
* * *
‘This stuff is terrible!’ Melanie cringed. She clutched her tongue with her fingers; her nose crinkled up in utter disgust. Not only had the crumbly texture of sand infested her mouth, but also the strong pong of bitter rust from the pipe.
‘Who cares?’ Viper said, dully. She fell to the ground in a satisfied stretch, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and stared up at the sky.
‘It is water after all.’ She said.
The cool shade of the sewer pipe had been nothing to shy at, and within seconds there were nine exhausted prisoners tiredly packed beneath it.
‘I’m telling you, we’re all going to die of cholera or something.’ Eric joked.
‘Stop it, Eric!’ Melanie said. ‘We’re not going to die. So don’t say that!’
‘Cool it, Mel! I’m just joking.’ Eric sighed. Even though his thirst was now quenched, the soft rumbling of his hungry stomach arose. Each time, it had felt like a miniscule earthquake in his gut.
‘So, where do we go from here?’ Aaron asked, curiously. He splashed his face with water, blinked, and stared at Sam.
‘I guess…we just have to keep moving.’ Sam said. ‘We have no other choice.’
‘And if we don’t make it to the ghost t
own by sunset?’
‘Then we–’
‘–quiet down!’ Shawn interrupted. He held up his hand, while his dark and bushy eyebrows collapsed to a frown. He listened.
‘What is it?’ Sam whispered. She closed her eyes and listened along: A faint rumbling noise had drifted towards them, its sirens blaring, and a crunchy voice barking orders over a hand held radio. ‘Is there someone else here?’
Luke, his face frantic, scaled the dune as fast as he could. ‘It’s an ECD scout on a trail rover!’ He called from above, his voice trembling in panic. ‘And he’s coming in fast!’
Sam got to her feet, and combed the area.
There was a red rush of sand gushing towards them, toppled over by Luke while dashing down the dune. His speed was suppressed by his sinking legs.
Sam gritted her teeth. She had seen no possible way for any of them to outrun a state of the art trail rover, and knew of only possible solution. The only problem though, was it being a rather drastic travel.
‘Everyone, get inside the sewers…now!’ Sam leaped through the mucky pool of water, splashing it all over her body, and dashed head first into the large, concrete sewage pipe.
Inside, it was pitch black dark, and the floor was squishy. Sam squeezed her nose shut. The rotten smell of dead rats had made her head spin.
‘This day just keeps getting better and better!’ Viper snarled. She ran her hands along the damp, narrow walls, trying not to think of what might be gathered around at her feet. The inside of the tunnel was dark and cold.
Behind them, the faint light from the entrance slowly but surely disappeared as they kept trudging forward. Their pace had quickened when hearing the chasing motor of the rover run over their heads. It sent small pieces of concrete showering down and into the water.
After a while, the rumbling of the motor died down, and its rambling radio had dimmed.
‘I think he’s gone now,’ Luna said. ‘Shouldn’t we go back?’
Sam opened her mouth to speak, but was distracted by the overwhelming racket that had followed in the rover’s trail: Hunting fleets of vans, each loaded heavier with soldiers than the other, came charging over their heads. The vengeful voices of its men had gratingly drifted from atop, and sounded vague and muffled through the thick concrete of the pipe.
‘TEST 001 COMMENSE!’ A soldier cried.
‘What do you think they’re doing up there?’ Melanie asked, frightened.
‘AIM AT THE READY!’
‘I bet whatever it is–we don’t want to find out!’ Aaron said. ‘Come on!’
‘FIRE!!!’
‘Watch out!’
Sam was struck on her side, and her feet kicked out from under her. She fell to the floor with a mouth gargling splash, fighting hard to retain her senses.
The water was bitter, and had tasted of sand.
Sam gagged, and opened her eyes. Aaron had lain on top of her, his hands tightly clenched to her waist. She gagged again, and saw half the tunnel’s side had fallen apart behind them.
‘Are you okay?’ Aaron asked, scrambling to his feet, and helping Sam up.
‘Yes…No…’ Sam said. ‘I mean…look at the entrance!’
‘IT’S COMPLETELY GONE!’ Melanie whimpered. She forced herself through the water, and clasped her hands at the stones, tugging fiercely.
It was no use, they were completely wedged stiff.
‘We’re all going to die down here!’ Luna said, hysterically.
‘No, we’re not.’ Sam rubbed her bruised elbow, staring off into the pitch black darkness of the tunnel ahead. ‘We just have to keep moving.’
‘Move to where?’ Viper asked. ‘Chances are, we’ll either starve, or die of sepsis down here!’
Sam dismissively turned, and fished her way onward.
‘Fine, do as you like,’ Sam said. ‘But there’s no way in hell that I’m staying here!’
‘I’m with Sam.’ Shawn said, broadening his shoulders. ‘She got us out of the Keep, and she’ll get us out of this too.’
‘Aaron? What do you think?’
‘For the first, and possibly only, time ever, I agree with Shawn.’ Aaron shrugged. Without much doubt, the pair of them had trampled after Sam, struggling keeping to their feet on the squishy decaying floor.
And the others had followed.
Chapter 20
‘Are you sure it’s her?’ Cara Emitton asked, her voice shaking. She sat on the edge of her seat, her eyes following that of Richard Grey’s as he paced the length of the conference room.
‘Jamie Sullivan, prisoner 628.’ Richard said. ‘Undeniably, she was a 99.9% match on the DNA test.’
Cara shrugged in relief. She couldn’t even fathom what she’d have done if it was Sam.
‘The family should be notified, shouldn’t they?’ Tamara asked, but Richard froze, and scowled at her.
‘They family is of no concern to us!’ He said. ‘Prisoner 628 was a traitor, and a fugitive.’
‘But she was still a child!’
‘I won’t say it again, Miss Amador–’
‘–And I, Mr. Grey, have had enough of you!’ Cara Emitton rose from her seat. She had stared upon the gleaming gray eyes of Richard’s fuming face. He was shocked by her sudden rush of authority.
Cara knew what his lethal stare had meant, but she didn’t care. If he had dared tell the board anything of her illegal visits to the Keep, she wouldn’t hesitate to take him down with her. He too, had countless skeletons in his closet.
‘Tamara, feel free to alert the family.’ Cara said, sitting down. Her plaid skirt had ruffled against the soft leather of the chair.
Richard’s cheeks swelled with envy. He clenched his fists, and raised his voice above the table. ‘I still feel that Jack Crowe is no longer fit for his position at the Keep!’ He said. ‘If I may suggest a stronger force in finding the fugitives, Dallas Romero is currently in that area.’
‘Dallas? What’s he doing all the way in the wastelands?’ Gregory Michal, one of the board members asked.
‘His team was testing the splash damage on Project Python’s newest weaponry range.’ Richard said. ‘Apparently there was a problem with some underground sewer tunnels that had collapsed. They’re fishing out his men as we speak. I’m sure he won’t mind in letting them carry on without him.’
‘But the wastelands aren’t Dallas’ domain.’ Cara said, hesitantly. Her thumbs nervously fumbled under the table. She knew undoubtedly, that Dallas Romero was the best at what he did.
‘I’ve already written him a pardon.’ Richard placed his brown briefcase on the glass tabletop, and revealed an official stamped letter to the board.
‘Richard–you had no authority!’ Cara fled from her chair. She had wanted to snatch the letter, but Gregory Michal held her back. ‘What are you doing? Let go of me!’ She wrenched herself from his grip. ‘What are you planning, Richard? First, you banish all petroleum driven vehicles, and now you have this obsession with a rebellion? Dallas is not the man for the job…especially not with his son a prisoner at the Keep!’
‘My dear Cara,’ Richard said, addressing her in a casual manner. He had a sly smile dancing around his mouth, frightening her. ‘Dallas Romero had dealt with all the escaped prisoners before. He is a strict professional. I’m sure that if Samantha Cyrus, your niece, hadn’t been one of the escapees, you’d agree with me.’
‘Richard’s right.’ Gregory said. ‘First it was your nephew Mike, and now this.’
‘Is there something going on, Cara?’ Cecile Maltose, a woman with a sharp nose and big, brown mole, asked.
‘No! Why would you think that?’
‘Well, we did discuss the possibility of mole amongst us.’ Richard’s eyes were gleaming. It was at last the break he was waiting for.
Cara’s lips were glued. She couldn’t believe, when scouring the faces of the board, they all agreed with Richard. Where had their loyalties gone? When Cara said nothing, Richard straightened his tie, and cleared his throat.<
br />
‘It’s all settled then.’ He said. ‘I’ll arrange for Jack Crowe to stand down his hunt, and Dallas Romero to launch his.’ Richard rubbed his hands together. ‘The sooner we apprehend these mutineers, the sooner I can–’ Richard stood entranced. His eyes stared out the window, and onto the view of the city. His leg flinched, and so did his fingers. The tips of his ears had fumed, shining a sudden bright red.
‘–the sooner you can what, Richard?’ Tamara Amador asked, suspicious.
‘It’s nothing.’ Richard said. He glanced at his briefcase, and rushed towards it. His stride was rickety and forced, as if a dangerous attacker stalking its prey. Before he closed the briefcase, Cara caught a brief glimpse of a white, pill bottle. She pretended not to see it, but failed, as Richard’s eyes darted upon hers.
Chills travelled down her spine.
Richard’s face was sweaty, and he was breathing awfully heavy.
‘If there’s any updates on either the rebellion, or the escapees, I’ll be in my office.’ He uttered, and head for the door. Just outside the conference room, the secretary, Jan Miller, had presented Richard to a tall, grey haired man. Richard greeted him shortly, and gestured the man to his office.
Together, they disappeared out of view.
Cara had excused the meeting, and fled to her office. There was something about the grey haired man that seemed all too familiar to ignore. When digging through her drawer, she found a dusty hard drive, and plugged it into her computer.
‘Welcome Miss Emitton.’ The computer said when switching on.
The hard drive blinked. Cara scrolled through old images dating back all the way to ten years ago. There were pictures of her, with her family and friends. It was a time, long ago, when all had been perfect.
She and Richard were quite good friends back then. A faint smile spread across her cheeks when seeing Sam as a baby. She was held in the arms of a five-year-old Mike.
Cara scrolled on. He finger froze, and her eyes stiffened. There, on a picture taken more than a decade ago, stood her sister Amanda, her brother-in-law John, and a tall, grey haired man.
Cara remembered him, but not his name. Back then, he was a science intern, working with the Cyrus’s on one of their studies. Cara tried to find out which one, but failed. She quickly printed the picture, and buried the hard drive. What on earth was Richard Grey up to?
The Keep (A Renegades story Book 1) Page 14
