“What?” she asked, sounding weakened but with the hint of fire. “Gloria told me there was a time when our nation killed each other before. It was different though. They fought to give people freedom, not just to survive.”
“I like their reason better,” Sam said.
* * * *
The morning light was breaking through the canopy of the trees when we finally saw the smoke coming from the compound. It didn’t take long to pass through the Deracine dead and through the twisted metal that used to be the fence.
Most of the bodies were easily buried in the churned up earth from the explosion. A turned-over rifle stuck in the ground marking a burial mound at one end of the compound, a white ribbon tied around the butt of the gun blew in the gentle breeze. The scene gave an eerie sensation with no living person in sight. Just before we reached the broken glass of the air container of the main door, it opened slowly and a soldier with a shovel came out. I recognized him as the recruit Clarissa had knocked down in one of our first training exercises, but I couldn’t recall his name.
“Run,” he said softly, “run!”
Clarissa dropped her bags and grabbed my arm, but before we even got back to the destroyed fence line, bullets hit the ground all around us. Sam and I instantly stopped, throwing our hands in the air, but Clarissa spun around and fired three quick shots from her service revolver. Bullets sprayed around her and one hit her in the side and threw her to the ground. The soldiers quickly formed a semicircle around us, with their rifles pointed at our heads, but I went to help Clarissa.
“Stop!” someone yelled. “Put all of your weapons down or you’ll end up right beside her,” commanded the voice. Turning, I could see he wore a captain’s insignia on his jacket sleeves. I judged the situation, and seeing no escape, lowered my rifle to the ground. Sam did the same.
“Side arms too...slowly.”
Unholstering our revolvers, we laid them on the ground and put our hands in the air as we were marched inside, leaving Clarissa in pain and bleeding on the ground. I could hear her saying someone’s name as we entered.
“Bastrop. Bastrop.”
I wanted to go help her, but I knew it might mean my life if I did. I immediately began looking for someone who would answer questions as to why we were being treated as enemies.
“What’s the meaning of this?” I asked bluntly, but was met with a swift hit to my back with the butt of a rifle. Sam moved in around me, but I was already on the floor. The new captain, Bastrop, spoke up again.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said. “Until then, you will shut your mouth and do as you’re told.”
I glared at him, but couldn’t do anything more. It was a few minutes later when the door to the Alamo opened and Stevenson walked forward through the line of soldiers. The new captain and a beautiful, dark-haired soldier I had never seen before immediately flanked him.
“Welcome back,” he said to us, but was looking directly at me.
“Viceroy Stevenson, what is going on?” I asked, as nicely as I could.
“It’s not viceroy anymore. My new title is Eminency. And Samantha, you have a decision to make. I’ve had Maria here contact the agents who came the other day. Hearing our plight, they were very willing to make a deal with us. Tomorrow, they will be here to supply all of us with food, munitions, and everything we need to rebuild, and all of that for Jennifer here.”
“You can’t do this,” I said.
“I can,” he said smiling, walking back and forth in front of us. “While you were out, the council gave emergency powers over to me, and I am using that responsibility to carry out the people’s will. And the people want to be rid of you. So why not kill two birds with one stone?” He looked at Sam. “As for Samantha here, will you decide to either join your people here at the compound or stay with those who have brought us such destruction? If you choose us, I will offer nothing but acceptance, but you will be dealt with accordingly if you decide the latter.”
I looked at her, not knowing what to say. Slowly, Sam stepped forward.
“I’m sorry,” she said to me, “but I have to do what’s right.”
She gave me a smile and a hug, before turning and quickly pulling a dagger from her waistband, her intent clearly to take out Stevenson. As she turned, the first shot ripped through the side of her shoulder, throwing her off balance, but the knife sailed through the air and just missed Stevenson’s head, finding a soldier behind him instead.
I hit the floor when the shots went off and Sam, the beautiful recruit that she was, fell dead in front of me.
“Thank you,” I whispered, a tear in my eye, knowing she had given her life trying to stop Stevenson. I was lifted from the floor a moment later.
“Put her in a cell,” yelled Bastrop, as he and Maria made sure Stevenson had not been cut.
* * * *
The clanging of the metal staircase rang loud in my ears as I was being pushed upstairs. Three soldiers wasted little time in forcing me to go where they wanted me. Stopping at one of the first cell doors, Bastrop, who was not far behind, unlocked the door, and the guards pushed me inside.
“You can stay with lover boy,” he joked, “and watch him die. As for the sergeant, I’ll make sure she suffers awhile before we kill her.” The cell door clanked shut moments later and the group was gone. I heard the door shut at the end of the hallway.
Turning around, I saw Michael still asleep. I went to him immediately and knelt beside his cot. His wrists and ankles had been tied down, but it looked as if someone had been doctoring the wounds on his forehead and chest, which pumped up and down quickly as he took short, hard breaths. An IV bag hung beside him.
I ran a hand down the plastic mask that covered his face and began to sob. Everything he had done for me and I had failed to help him. None of the medicine I brought back would reach him, and I still had no way to cure him from the virus that had probably already swept through his system. The thought of seeing him change into someone that wanted nothing but to kill was tearing me apart, and that was even if he survived. I tried to fight back each snivel, but they only got louder and louder.
“Jennifer?” a voice said. “I know it’s difficult, but I was able to give him some anesthesia before they arrested me last night. Hopefully, he’ll be out long enough so he won’t have to see any of this.”
“Any of what?” I whimpered, crawling over to the bars as I recognized the voice to be Wellstone’s.
“They are going to get rid of us agitators sometime today,” another voice said, the sarcasm still thick even while Dr. Swanson was waiting on her own death sentence. “Seems that if you go against handing democracy over to a tyrant, something has to happen to you.”
“When?”
“Don’t know, honey. Just try to enjoy your time with him,” she said.
I nodded, knowing at least I would get to spend my last few moments on Earth with the few people who actually cared for me. The thought made me smile a little, as I sat there on the floor next to Michael, tracing his hand with my finger and leaning my head over on his bare shoulder.
* * * *
I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up, I could see Michael’s breaths were being pulled in heavier and each one seemed to be fought for. His strong body didn’t want to relent to death, and I knew it shouldn’t. No one that strong, not just physically, but with so much resolve, should ever have to die like this.
“Please, someone! Help him!” I screamed out of the cell. “Please!”
As I continued to shout, I finally heard steps coming toward us.
“Please, he’s dying. Can’t you let the doctor in here to see him?”
The soldier only smiled.
“Why would we save someone who we want dead anyway? Now keep it down and stop bothering me.”
He walked away and this time I heard the door slam behind him.
With tears in my eyes, I went to Michael. Pulling my mask from my face, I slipped his off as well. I ran my hands
over the cut on his forehead, down his cheek and across his red lips. Kissing his forehead, his eye, and then his lips, I felt his last few breaths slowly inhale. I began to cry when they stopped.
* * * *
I heard both Dr. Swanson’s and Mr. Wellstone’s voices, but I couldn’t make out any of their words. All I wanted was for them to come for me, to take me out of the cell and end my life. Michael’s pain was gone, but mine wouldn’t end until my life was over. And maybe that’s why Stevenson had me placed here, so he could torture me before he handed me over to the agents. I cried knowing he had gotten his wish.
I stood up and went to the broken window. Pieces of glass lay at my feet that were the result of the Deracine attack. There was a large, jagged chunk of glass still hanging within the window frame though. I reached up and pulled it from the caulk that was keeping it in place.
“It won’t hurt for long,” I whispered to myself as I stared through the pointed, glass blade. One quick swipe and all of my pain would be over. I pulled back my hair and lifted the glass to my neck.
“I love you, Captain,” I said, smiling one last time.
But the glass fell from my hands and shattered as I saw Michael’s chest rise once again. Quickly, I ran to him, putting my ear to his chest and hearing his heartbeat. Steadily, I watched as his breathing became deeper and stronger.
“Wellstone! Wellstone! He’s still alive,” I shouted through the bars. When I turned around, Michael’s eyes were open as well, and he grinned up at me, but it wasn’t the type of smile I wanted to see.
“I will kill you!” he yelled, trying to head-butt me. He pulled with his arms and legs against the straps, raging like I had never seen before. His body jumped from the cot as he fought desperately to escape.
“Michael! Calm down. You’re going to be okay,” I said, placing my hands on his shoulders, but his anger ensued, and again he tried to attack me. I backed away to the bars, not knowing what to do.
“Come here, you little...” he grinned, “come here and I’ll make you say my name!”
My mouth dropped open. I remembered him handing his gun to me and saying, “I’m SA7.” He knew what he would become if the virus ever overtook him.
Now it had.
Michael was gone, replaced by the Damien, who lay deep inside his blood.
I couldn’t let it happen, not to him. I crossed the room and grabbed the glass, but this time raised it to my shirt and cut it off from around my waist.
“Yeah!” he snapped. “That’s right, girl. Take it off. When I get free, I’m going to do so much worse to you!”
I tried to focus, tried to remind myself that he was infected, that this wasn’t him. I balled up the cloth and quickly forced it into his mouth, so at least I didn’t have to listen to the horrible things he said.
My only hope was somehow my immunity might find its way into him. I grabbed the glass again and this time severed the palm of my hand. Michael fought as I approached him, and wailed through his gag excitedly as I cut his hand. Putting my hand into his, the warmth of our blood squished together. Still, he struggled against me, tossing his head back and forth and pulling against his bonds.
“It’s not enough,” I said softly. Looking around the room, I had nothing I could use to transfer my blood to him any faster. Wellstone had used a needle and small hose, letting my blood pump itself into a plastic bag. Looking at his IV, I tried to figure out a way to put my blood into the solution, but I didn’t know how. Frustration quickly turned to anger.
I didn’t know what to do. My words, my caresses meant nothing to him anymore. When I leaned down toward him, he fought again, but I was able to hold his head down with my hands, the blood smearing against his face and head. Removing the gag, his evil grin returned, but he said nothing.
“Michael, you’re still in there! Please come back to me.”
His grin was still there.
“I’ll do more than that!” he snapped, but I couldn’t listen to anymore. I forced my lips down against his. At first, he did his best to try and bite me, but I continued to kiss him, not relenting to his anger. My mouth locked around his as I held him down, the air circulated between us. I continued to kiss him, to share his breath. When I finished, his head fell back against the cot.
“Jennifer,” he whimpered. “Jennifer.”
“Michael,” I said to him, but I could tell the virus was not letting go. I kissed him again, deeper, more passionately than I ever had before, keeping our lips locked together until I lost track of time.
Again, his head and body relaxed when I pulled away. His eyes focused on me.
“Jennifer, I’m sorry.”
Chapter Twenty
I knelt down next to Michael and again gave him a kiss. He tried to pull himself up, but the cuffs still held him down. He looked up at me, expecting me to undo them, but I sat next to him and wiped the blood from his face.
“I need to know it’s you in there, Captain.”
He smiled, the one I remember from before and not the grin he was giving me while the virus had him.
“Call me Michael, and it’s good to see you’re thinking like a soldier.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. I knew it was him and somehow the virus had gone, all in a kiss.
“How did I get here?” he asked while I undid the straps on his wrists and ankles.
“You were injured in an explosion when we were attacked by the Déracinés,” I reminded him, “so it’s probably best if you stay still.” I pointed out the wounds on his forehead and chest, but he slowly leaned up and this time I didn’t stop him. He took me in his arms and held me.
“I remember the attack, the explosion, and then everything went black. But the odd thing was that even in the darkness, I could hear you, Jennifer, and then I could see you in front of me, like a guide or something.”
“A guide?” I nearly laughed. “You were dead just a few minutes ago.”
“Then how...how am I here?” He looked at his bloodstained hand for the first time. I gathered some of the strip of cloth I used as a gag and began to wrap it over the new wounds I had created.
“I don’t know. I pulled your mask off of you when you stopped breathing and kissed you, but I know you were dead. I know you were dead. It just doesn’t make any sense.”
“I was infected too. I have the virus.”
I knotted the makeshift bandage around his hand and then my own.
“Yes, you are, or were. I kissed you. When you came back to life, you tried to attack me, but I held you down and kissed you. You came back to me. Slowly, with each kiss, you came back to me.”
I looked up at him and he kissed me on the lips again. He ran his hand over the crest of my jaw, to my neck, and down my shoulder. When I slowly pulled away, we both exhaled together.
“It’s my breath,” I said quietly. “The cure, when I kissed you, it has to be in my breath.”
Michael questioned me with his eyes.
“Do you really think that’s it?”
“It’s the only explanation.”
Michael thought about it, but there was no way to actually test my theory. Quickly, he put on his mask, reached for his shirt behind him and pulled it over his arms before buttoning up his jacket.
“But you said I was dead. Can your kisses bring people back to life?”
I didn’t have an answer for him. There was no reason I could think of as to why Michael should have started breathing again or even sit up like he was doing now, not even showing any signs of pain from the injuries that had taken his life less than an hour ago.
“So why are we in here?”
“Oh.” I had forgotten to tell him everything that had happened. “Stevenson has taken over the compound, gotten rid of the council, and us.”
“Us?”
“You were supposed to be dead, and I’m to be given back to the agents. Everyone else is supposed to be executed. They’ve already killed so many.”
Michael took in the information
and seemed to force it deep down inside of him. Where I wanted to cry, he was trying to figure a way out of the situation and had no time to be emotional.
“And Clarissa?”
I smiled.
“She’d taken over the responsibility to protect me, but they shot her outside. She was alive when they brought me in here.”
Michael’s eyes enlarged, but after a moment he forced a small smile and went to something else. He stood and scanned the bars on the window, looking outside at the destruction that still lay there. He looked at the bars and pulled them a couple of times. Then he walked to the bars on the door and did the same thing.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting us out of here.”
I smiled, but couldn’t believe him.
“This is a prison, you know?”
“Yeah, minimum security.” He tested practically every bar and looked at the bolts that held them to the brick.
“Well, they want me dead, so I guess they’ll have to get what they want.”
* * * *
When the door at the end of the hallway finally opened, I began to cry as hard as I could. The guardsmen stopped, seeing me kneeling on the floor, my arms wrapped around myself. They slid the bars open and entered the room, smiling down at me.
“Get up and stand against the wall,” one of them said. I did as they told me and watched the other soldier make his way over to Michael. He looked at him for a moment, seeing Michael’s eyes staring dead at the ceiling. The soldier turned to us.
“Yeah, this one’s gone.”
Michael jumped from the cot and wrapped one arm around the soldier’s neck, pulling his sidearm from the holster. He forced the weapon against the soldier’s temple quickly as the soldier next to me froze.
I took the other soldier’s firearm and waited for what Michael had planned next. He pushed the guards quickly against the wall of the cell and hit them hard with the butt of the gun, knocking them unconscious. Going through their belongings, he found the key to the prison cells.
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