Reclaim

by Casey L. Bond

  My stomach was calming down a bit, so I pushed myself up from the facilities and washed my trembling hands.

  The mirror was no longer my friend. My long, black hair was coated in a sheen of sweat and vomit. My skin was ashen and there were dark circles perched beneath each eye. The skin from my lips and around my nostrils peeled up, red and angry from being burnt by the acidic bile that refused to relent.

  I heard the door to my suite open. It is probably the servant I requested.

  Turning around, I saw the person, unsure if they were male or female at first glance.

  “Who are you?” I croaked through my raw throat.

  “You don’t remember me?” Female. The voice was unmistakably so.

  I stumbled to my bed and threw the sheets and coverlet back before crashing into its comfort.

  The woman walked into the room and toward me. I could see her much better. Dirt, grime, and who knew what covered every inch of her skin. Her body odor was revolting. Covering my mouth and nose so the vomiting would not start again, I watched her approach.

  She wore a loose, ill-fitting, brown jumpsuit. Those were reserved for prisoners. How had she gotten out of the dungeons?

  “You are an escapee?”

  “Very observant. Not just a pretty figurehead, I see.”

  That voice seemed so familiar, but I could not place it.

  She reached behind her, and for a second, I thought she might have a weapon. She had something large and circular concealed in her palms.

  “What are you doing?”

  The woman smiled, but it was not sweet. It was more a smile of satisfaction.

  She came closer. I tried to scoot up on the bed, but my legs and arms were weak. I was so tired and so were my muscles.

  “Do you remember me, Queen?” she spat the last word.

  “I do not.”

  “Your guards took us off the train and brought us here. Then you separated us. Marian Cole and Gray Wilken were given a second chance. But me...?”

  She was the personal servant of Crew Cole. She had served his father. She could not be trusted, so I sent her to the dungeons, locked her away. No one was supposed to know I had lied. I told Marian and Gray the woman had been sent back to one of the villages, her status as servant revoked. But she was rotting away slowly under their feet.

  Literally.

  Her cheeks, once plump, were shrunken and hollow. The skin at her throat that had slightly doubled when she arrived was shriveled and sagging.

  She looked like a dirty corpse.

  “Gretchen Wright.”

  Gretchen’s eyes lit up.

  Before I could block her movements, she grabbed hold of my wrist and clamped a shackle around it. She clamped the matching metal ring to the headboard. Mine was hand-carved mahogany, deep, red, and extravagant. It was befitting a queen.

  “Don’t touch me, Lesser!” I tried to jerk away from her, but she was fast and strong.

  “You told me I should know my place. You said that with me, the last remnant of the Cole legacy would rot away—that you’d make it slow and painful. Well, I don’t know how fast it will be, Lillith. But know this: I’m putting you in your place. With you, the last of the Greater legacy will rot away. And I refuse to let you sit on your throne, dying with dignity. You have no dignity! You’ll rot on this bed, in a pile of your own filth. And you’ll know that if the rumors of the Hell that were spoken of by the ancients does exist, you’ll be roasting on a spit in the hottest place there.”

  She smiled; it was a half-deranged, half-ecstatic look that enraged and frightened me at the same time. She was going to leave me there, chained to my bed.

  The bile rose before she even closed the door. And I did not have the strength to hold it down any longer.

  EVERYONE WAS SICK. AS A Lesser servant, I was immune—at least I hoped so. Who knew if the virus was actually engineered to effect only Greaters? Lillith was worse than Harrison Cole ever dreamed of being, and he was a self-serving, sadistic bastard. The guards in the dungeon kept their comms handy, and they gossiped a lot.

  Rumors circulated about the Lessers in Vesuvius. The dungeon guards said the people had been rounded up like cattle and taken to be slaughtered, but something happened. They also said Lillith had sent a mass comm saying they’d been eliminated, that all Vesuvian Lessers were dead.

  She’d lied. But why?

  This was what the dungeon guards said before they left their stations: the Lessers had been rounded up. But when the guards were told about the virus, and heard their families were dying, all but a handful left to die with their loved ones. Only a few guards were left to watch over thousands of Lessers. The ones remaining were overpowered, and the Lessers weren’t killed, as Lillith had both planned and professed.

  I’d heard a few had been wounded, and one had lost his life. That man was Adam Kelley. I hadn’t met him, but knew immediately that it must be Abby’s father.

  Keeping my steps light, I took a back staircase in the palace, making my way toward the dungeons I hated so much. They’d been the vilest conditions I’d ever seen, let alone lived in. I wasn’t given a bed, just a thatch of mouse-infested straw in the corner. No facilities, only a bucket. No bathing. It was rare we were fed or given water, and even then it was only enough to keep us from dying.

  I wasn’t sure why they even cared if we died. Would they notice? I doubt the smell of the place would’ve been changed much.

  Accessible to only guards, and located one level above the dungeon cells, was a non-descript wooden door. Behind that door was a pathway to freedom. It was actually an escape route for the queen. She’d apparently always been paranoid someone would overthrow her, someone might threaten her reign, and so she’d had Lessers carve a pathway through the mountain.

  It took a lot of tugging, but the heavy door finally gave way with a puff of dust. Two flashlights were left on a shelf just inside the dark hallway. Clicking one, then the other, both seemed to work. So I tucked one in my pocket and squeezed the other as I eased into the dark shadows.

  Cobwebs coated my face when I stepped forward, so I held the flashlight in front of me to catch further ones. I spat the tiny threads out and suppressed a shiver. I hated spiders. Eight-legged demons.

  The floor was peppered with dirt and small rock, probably part of the walls and mountain the palace was perched on. It wasn’t wide or tall, but it was a way out of that awful place, and I’d crawl to freedom if I had to. Hunching over and holding the light ahead of me, I rushed into the darkness, winding my way beneath the great rock overhead.

  The tunnel gradually descended, and I’d walked for what seemed like hours before I finally came to the end of the tunnel and another wooden door. I pushed and slammed my shoulder against it a dozen times before it gave way. But it was worth it. Someone had freed me, and I wasn’t about to spend one more second of my life serving a Greater that was no better than me.

  “The guards. They’re coming.” Branson, the man next to me, is paranoid. He always thinks the guards were coming, so I pay him no attention. He’s been ranting and raving during his waking moments since I was dragged down here.

  But the sound of hurried footsteps makes me sit up straight and scoot away from the door. A large, hulking form of a man, with dark chocolate skin that was as dirty as mine, and clothes that matched, comes into view.

  He smiles, revealing pearly white teeth and friendliness. “Greaters are all getting sick—some sort of virus. Time to make our escape.” Working quickly, he tries key after key in the ancient-looking metal lock clamping my door closed.

  When he finally finds the right one, he smiles. “Bingo.”

  Bingo. Yes!

  He goes to the next cell and works to free that prisoner, too. I pause. Does he need help?

  “There’s a door. It’s an emergency escape for the queen, just up the staircase.” He motions toward the rocky steps. “Get on out of here. I can handle a few guards, but you couldn’t. You’re free. What are you going
to do with it?” And, with a wink, he turns back to the task at hand.

  And I run for it, not wasting another second to look back. There’s one thing I’m going to do before escaping this forsaken place for good.

  I spilled onto a dusty wooden floor. And as the billowing clouds settled around me, my eyes scanned the area. I was in some sort of shed or barn. It was large, with beams running across the ceiling and down to the floor, but there were no animals to be seen. There were plenty more cobwebs draping delicately across everything they could cling to. Nature’s lace.

  After catching my breath, I eased the door closed. Everything was quiet, so I pushed myself up off the ground, my knees popping in protest, and made my way out through a crack in the sliding wooden door.

  No one was near the barn outside. The sounds of chirping birds were all I could hear.

  I walked in the same direction the tunnel had been leading. It hadn’t failed me up to then and had led me away from Vesuvius, so that’s the way I wanted to go.

  It was almost dawn. I’d walked for so long, careful with my steps. My back was aching from all the stooping and squatting, but I was free.

  I.

  Was.

  Free.

  That warranted a little happy dance. Okay, a big one. It would’ve been embarrassing if someone had been watching, but no one was around. So, I shimmied my hips to the right, to the left, popped my big booty, and swirled in a circle, pumping my arms up to the sky. Oh, yeah.

  I was free.

  I was alone. That was a little scary, but I was still on a happy high, so I pushed it out of my mind.

  It only took about a mile to realize I wasn’t out of the city. Not yet, anyway. I came upon the sizzling fence encircling everything Vesuvian.

  The fence was constructed of concrete supports that had a series of closely spaced horizontal wires threaded through them. I couldn’t squeeze through. If I did, thousands of volts would course through my body, and I’d be burnt to a crisp.

  I had to find a way past the fence. After a short rest beneath a tree, I started walking again, determined to tunnel under the blasted thing if I had to.

  It was hard to tell how far I walked. I knew my feet were aching, and more than a few times, I’d thought about sitting down and resting. But my mind wouldn’t let me give up. It wouldn’t relent. So, I kept trudging along the dry, cracked patches of earth, sprinkled with scrub and peppered with the occasional lily or daisy. Of course, they weren’t like any plants I’d ever seen in Olympus. Most were prickly upon closer inspection. I found that out the hard way.

  The pads of my fingers were sore. I rubbed them together. Yes. Still sore.

  Along the outer fence, so far from where I’d ended up, was a cinder block building. It had been painted red, like every other orifice in that place. Watching it from afar, no one seemed to be near. Not a soul ventured in or out. There were warning signs on the door. Risk of electrocution. I smiled. Bingo.

  Easing toward the building, I saw no movement around me.

  The door was rusted around the edges. How long has it gone unused? I jerked without success. The thing refused to budge. I jerked and then leaned back, pulling as hard as I could, using my body weight to add pressure.

  When it finally gave way, so did I—landing on my rump and stirring up a billow of dust that had me hacking and fanning the cloud away from my face. I harrumphed.

  But no one had seen. I eased my way into the building and pulled the door mostly closed. I didn’t want to end up stuck inside or flat on my face next time.

  There were buttons in a variety of colors. Some blinked and some were flat and stable. Others weren’t lit up at all. A set of four enormous levers stretched along the far wall. There were cables and wires of every size leading out and away from them, disappearing into the floor.

  I wonder what will happen...

  Easing one of the levers down, you could hear the power surging through the building lessen slightly. I eased another one down, and another, until all were down. Peeking out the door, I didn’t find anyone running toward me to see what in the world was going on. No one was around at all. I slipped outside and around the back of the building, and then made my way back into the scrub, in the direction I’d come.

  The fence no longer buzzed.

  Scurrying to find a stick, it felt like I searched forever until a small sapling of some sort in the distance swayed happily in the wind as if to say, “Over here!”

  Well, I listened, ran toward it, and tore off one of its branches. I’m sure it wasn’t happy with me anymore.

  I took the branch and threw it at the fence. It bounced off one of the thick wires without so much as a pop.

  The fence was off.

  Right?

  One way to tell.

  I squinted and eased toward it, stretching out my arm and then a single finger. If it wasn’t off, that would’ve really hurt. Actually, it would’ve killed me. But, freedom. Freedom was worth dying for, and the metal didn’t crackle with electricity. That had to be a good sign. So, I eased forward slowly and touched it, wincing as I did.

  Nothing.

  Nothing happened.

  I giggled and grabbed hold of the wire. Nothing!

  Without further hesitation, I ducked through the wires and made my way out of Vesuvius—for good.

  Without a clue as to the direction of the nearest village, I set out on my own. I’d figure it out on the way. I pumped my fist in the air and let out a whoop before covering my mouth, stifling the giggles.

  Freedom.

  IT HAD BEEN SEVERAL HOURS, and the night had covered us, thick and warm with spring scents floating on a gentle breeze. I could smell jasmine. Evelyn had a jasmine plant on her porch. That scent reminded me of home.

  Watching Gray and Kaia with Ella was amazing. Gray was the funniest though. Ella already had him worried.

  She was a beautiful baby. She’d grow to be a beautiful young lady.

  “God help any boy who looks in her direction one day,” he’d said earnestly.

  I laughed. “I think we have quite a long time before we need to worry about that.”

  “Not that long. You’re only seventeen.”

  “Is it April?”

  “Yeah.”

  I smiled. “Technically, I’m eighteen, then.”

  He just shook his head and smiled down at her. My body was exhausted, and I’d appreciated the time between feedings to rest and recover. More than anything, I just wanted to go home. I wanted to be in my own cabin, lie in my own bed next to Gray. He wanted to build a crib and cradle, and he had plans to find or build a dresser. Next on his list were carved toys for her—she’d need something to pull behind her when she walked, like a duck, according to him.

  I didn’t bother telling him she wouldn’t walk for months. Time had a way of flying past so slowly you never saw it coming. It would happen sooner than even I realized. I knew that.

  So, he could saw and hammer and sand to his heart’s content. As soon as we got home.

  The night passed quickly, just as I’d predicted, and by daybreak, I asked if we could leave, assuring Ebony we appreciated everything she’d done.

  “I understand the need for comfort, for the familiar. You should be safe to travel as long as you rest along the way.”

  So, we made the preparations with Phoenix and Julia. Before long, Gray helped me to the train as Kaia carried Ella, cooing at her affectionately.

  Ebony escorted us. Did anyone else in the village come home last night? There wasn’t a sound, not a soul in sight.

  She hefted a basket into the train car. “Food and drink and a few things Abby and Ella might need along the way.”

  I was thankful for her help and hugged her so hard it hurt a little. “You can come see us. It’s almost over.”

  She cocked her head back. “What’s almost over?”

  I smiled and told her she’d see. And I hoped with all my heart it would be, and she’d be free of the oppression engrained in u
s since infancy.

  When Phoenix started the engine, with Julia acting as his assistant, and we began to roll forward, we waved to Ebony—the girl who’d helped me bring Ella into the world, a girl no older than I was. She’d experienced such loss. We all had. But we had survived, and we could do this. We could make the world a better place.

  Tears filled my eyes as I held Ella. Ky was still out there. So was Adam. We were going home and leaving them so far away, in the belly of the great red beast.

  “What’s wrong?” Gray soothed, sliding down beside me.

  “We left them.”

  He stroked my hair. “Abs, we didn’t leave them. They opted to stay so that you and Ella... So all of us had a chance at something normal, something that everyone has a right to but has never tasted. They’ll make it out. I bet they’ll be home soon after we are.”

  The feeling in the pit of my stomach disagreed.

  HE WASN’T COMING. I’D COMBED the riverbanks for days. Nothing. Abby and the others must’ve been home just as long. Adam had either left before me or wasn’t going to make it out at the same time. I hoped he made it at all.

  That morning, while scouring for Adam, I’d found an old net. It was half dry-rotted, but served my purpose. I’d caught some sort of fish. They sure looked different than they did at home. Tasted different, too. Of course, I’d never eaten one raw before. But a guy had to eat. I needed my energy if I was going to hike it out of there.

  When I’d made peace with that fact, I heard rustling from around the bend. Someone was coming. I didn’t want to face the wrong someone, so I hid behind some thin trees nearby and watched.

  It wasn’t anyone I expected. Not a guard, not a Vesuvian. It was a woman. She was a broad chick, too. I watched as she fought her way through the stream, cursing something about leaving no tracks, no trail. It was going to take her forever to get anywhere like that. Best to forget about it, move fast, and cover your tracks later. But I guess she didn’t have a clue.

  She trudged along, stumbling over rocks and logs and whatever lay beneath the stream’s surface. An old tire threatened to take her down, but she held her ground. Then she righted herself and kicked it before brushing her hair out of her face. It was long and gray.