The Trinity

by Daelynn Quinn

I turn back to Timber and notice that she and Drake are deep into conversation. She is smiling and that puts me at ease. I don’t want to interrupt. I think I’d like to see Timber and Drake together. She would be the perfect mother for Evie and she’s already like a sister to me. I sincerely hope it works out for both of them.

  As I take the final sip of my sparkling water, I glance around the bar for any other familiar faces. The crowd hasn’t lightened a bit. In fact, it looks like standing room here is only getting tighter. I can’t even see where Marcus and Siera went. I twist and stretch my head around, but can’t find anyone I recognize. Then a pair of newcomers shift position and I see an eye patch. As far as I know, only one person here wears an eye patch—Glenn.

  I haven’t seen much of Glenn in the past week and although he and Marcus have their issues, I miss talking to my friend. I know I’ll lose my seat if I go to him, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t think I can stay much longer anyway with this crowd. Too many people in such a cramped space makes me jittery.

  I squeeze and twist my way through the crowd until I reach Glenn. He is leaning against a wall drinking a . . . beer?

  “Glenn, I thought you quit drinking!” I have to shout to carry my voice over the din. He looks at me sadly, like a little boy who’d just lost his puppy, and I can’t help feeling sorry for him. When Marcus left me after he found out I slept with Glenn, Glenn thought he had a second chance with me; that we could patch things up. But now he’s on his own again with no hope of a future with me.

  “Yeah, well, you know me, Polly. Did you really expect it to last that long?” He tips back the bottle and takes a good, long chug. I can’t bear to see him drink himself into oblivion. He’s so much better than that. If only he could see it in himself. I can’t mask the pained expression on my face.

  “Glenn, don’t do this.”

  He straightens up and cups my face in his hand, looking more serious now.

  “You’re overreacting, Polly. It’s just a beer. I’m not going to get stupid drunk. I just . . . need to relax. It’s been a really stressful past couple of weeks. We all thought we were going to lose you. And the baby.”

  “Well, I’m fine now. Glenn, is this about me and Marcus? Is that why you’re drinking again?”

  Glenn lowers his head, avoiding my eyes. His silence gives me my answer.

  “Please don’t do this over me. I’m not worth it.”

  “Don’t you tell me what you’re not worth!” His remark sounds vicious and I recoil. “Pollen you’re worth so much more than you give yourself credit for.” He pauses to laugh sardonically. “You know, for a moment—right before we left for Crimson—just that moment, I thought we could have a future. I know it’s crazy, but I really did. I knew how you felt about Marcus, but I hoped . . .” his voice falters as he stares into a void. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t have anything anymore. You were my world Pollen. And I fucked it up, like I always do.”

  Glenn chugs the last of his bottle as if he’s been stranded in a desert for weeks and it’s his only source of survival.

  “Glenn, I’m not the only woman left in the world. Why don’t you try to meet someone? Look at all these new people that have shown up. They don’t know about you or your past. I’m sure you’ll meet someone who will steal your heart.”

  “But she won’t be you.” Glenn’s face tenses as if some physical pain has manifested deep inside his body. I don’t know what else to say to him. So I just stand there, speechless, frozen like an ancient expressionless statue.

  Glenn chuckles and shakes his head as if to escape from the tension of the moment.

  “How’s the little guy?” he asks, placing his hand over my belly. I place my hand atop his, holding it in place. Even though Marcus and I are back together and I’ve broken Glenn’s heart—again—it feels good to have him near me. Like a missing piece of me has been found.

  “He’s good. He’s got one hell of a kick, though.”

  “Have you thought of any names yet?”

  That question evokes an unreasonable sense of distress in me. Marcus and Glenn both want have a say in this little boy’s name, but until I know who the father is I can’t bring myself to discuss it with either of them. It’s most likely Glenn’s. I know that. But I want so much for it to be Marcus’s child.

  “Not yet. Maybe after my dad or something. I don’t know.”

  “Well, we still have plenty of time.”

  “Pollen?”

  Glenn snatches his hand off my belly as if it were made of blazing-hot embers.

  I turn to find Marcus glowering at Glenn and me. Although he forgives us for what we did, he still abhors seeing us together. He doesn’t trust me completely yet, though he’s trying. Of course, he was just with his ex-wife, so he shouldn’t be all that concerned, right?

  “Hey Marcus,” Glenn mumbles, backing away from me.

  “I just came over to say hi to Glenn,” I say. “How was Siera?”

  “Are you ready to go?” Marcus says, emotionless. I nod, grateful to be leaving the commotion behind for the quiet sanctuary of our bedroom.

  ***

  “What did she say?”

  Marcus rubs his brow. Tension thickens the air around us as we walk down the corridor to our apartment.

  “Nothing much. She just wanted to know what’s been going in my life since we split up. She told me her husband and son died from the virus.”

  “What else? She wanted to speak to you alone—there had to be a reason for it.”

  Marcus hesitates. “Yeah. She said she never stopped loving me.”

  “Wait. What?” I stop dead in the hallway, shock gripping my ankles to lock them in place. A sickening feeling rises in the pit of my stomach. I’ve felt this before. I felt it when Marcus left me after the wedding. Marcus turns back to me and drapes his hands over my shoulders. His delicate gaze eases the discomfort, but it still lingers.

  “Pollen, don’t get the wrong idea. We agreed to be completely honest with each other, remember?”

  I nod, not quite finding the words to respond.

  “I told her that you are my life now. That nothing will come between us, especially not her. She asked about the baby. I told her the truth.”

  “Did you tell her about Glenn and me.”

  “Yes.”

  My body slumps and my gaze lowers. I know I’m not going to get along with that woman. And now Marcus has just given her ammunition to use against me.

  “I wish you hadn’t.”

  Marcus’s finger glides under my chin, gently lifting it. “You have nothing to worry about. Siera is history. You are my future. Nothing will ever change that again.”

  His placating words should calm my jittery nerves. But they don’t. Too many things have gone wrong recently. Something bad is bound to happen again. I just feel it.

  Chapter 6

  My knees start to buckle as I rise from the chaise lounge in the hazy bronze light of Dr. Nesbith’s office. The 60-year-old doctor with the dreadful comb-over and tightly trimmed gray beard escorts me to the door. I grasp my belly to hide the trembling in my fingers and the sweat that glazes my palms.

  I hated the idea of seeing the psychologist here, mostly because of the stigma surrounding it. The last thing I need right now is everyone here thinking I’m a nutcase—although many probably think that already. Somehow, seeing Dr. Nesbith seems like it would justify their negative opinions of me. But despite my apprehension, I hope that taking this initiative will grant me some freedoms. I’m exhausted with the babysitting that has plagued me since I returned from Crimson. I need some alone time. Time to myself outside of the bathroom, which is the only privacy I get these days. If Dr. Nesbith believes I’m not at flight risk I’ll be able to roam the premises freely again, although Granby still won’t let me train as long as I’m pregnant.

  “Good session, Miss McRae,” Dr. Nesbith announces at the threshold of his office door. “You’re doing very well. I’d like to see you a few more times
before I sign off on your recovery.”

  “Tomorrow?” I ask, eager to get this over with.

  “Ah, well, I was thinking more like next week. We can’t rush your treatment.”

  “Okay,” I sigh. “Next week.”

  As I stroll out of the office, Dr. Nesbith calls in his next client, a middle-aged woman with bloodshot eyes and her nose raw from the soiled handkerchief clutched in her fisted hand.

  “Miss McRae?”

  I glance up toward the doorway to find General Granby standing stiff and rigid as he always does.

  “Miss McRae, I was hoping I would find you here. How was your session?”

  “Good.” I look around the waiting room but Drake is nowhere to be found. He was supposed to escort me for the next hour. “Where’s Drake?”

  “I’m having him lead the soldiers at the shooting range today. I was hoping I could have a word with you. Would you accompany me to my office?” His tone is gentle and smooth, a direct contrast to the sharp, staccato barking he uses on the field.

  “Of course.”

  As we walk down the corridors, passing the occasional wandering resident, I feel the need to break the taut silence. I’ve always seen Granby as a substitute for my own father, but we’ve never really spoken informally before, except at my wedding that never happened.

  “You know, you can call me Pollen, sir.”

  Granby laughs through his closed lips.

  “And you know, you don’t have to address me as ‘sir.’ At least not unless you plan to join the army.”

  “Oh, I fully intend to.”

  Granby studies me. Before I found out Evie was kidnapped, I had decided against joining. I wanted to be a good mother and keep Evie and the baby safe. But now that she’s gone, joining the army is primary goal. It’s my only hope of getting her back.

  “Have you thought it through? I know how you feel about your niece. And how impulsive you are. I don’t want you jumping into anything without thinking about yourself and your little one first.”

  “I know. I’ve done nothing but think about it. General Granby, I know you think I’m going to go rushing off on some brazen mission to rescue Evie. And maybe you were right initially to have me watched so closely. But I’m more levelheaded now. I don’t need a babysitter. I don’t need constant supervision.”

  “You’re probably right, Pollen. But it’s not just about you running off on your own. I was a father once and if you were my daughter, well, I would do the same for her. I just want to keep you two safe. At least until your son is born. Then we’ll talk about your eligibility to join the military.”

  “What were your daughters like?” I ask. At first there is pain in his eyes, and a sliver of regret sinks into me. I shouldn’t have asked. Maybe it was too bold. But then his eyes glisten and I sense that he needs to talk about them, to keep them alive in his memory.

  “Maddie was very smart. She always had a book in her hand, always won her class spelling bees; she was a walking encyclopedia and a treasury of useless knowledge.” Granby smiles.

  “Bea was the adventurous one. She never took no for an answer. She was a tomboy through and through. A quick thinker too; if ever a problem came up, she was the first to summon a solution.” Granby’s smile softens. “You remind me of her.”

  I try to smile back, but there’s a sadness to the curve of my lips. I want to respond, but I don’t know what to say. I want to tell him that he’s the closest thing I have to a father right now. That he’s not alone and he can open up his hardened exterior to me. I’m not sure where the boldness comes from, but I find myself reaching my hand out to grab Granby’s arm and stop him. His body stiffens as I wrap my arms around his waist in a hug; the same hug I’d given my own father many times before.

  After a moment his muscles loosen and his arms find their way to my back, returning the gesture. The scent of citrus and cedar fills my nostrils as I press my cheek against his firm chest, firmer than my father’s. I’m glad Granby’s not in full uniform or the decorations would have scratched my face.

  “Sorry,” I say as I pull away, shifting my eyes away from his.

  Granby smiles. “Don’t be. I miss my girls. You miss your father. I understand.”

  We continue down the endless corridor until we end up at Granby’s office. While I stand in the doorway, chills rip down my spine. It looks just as it did the day I betrayed Marcus with Glenn. I glance warily at the plush loveseat where Glenn and I ravenously wrapped our bodies around each other, sinking deeper and deeper into the cushions. Even the smell of mahogany and old books brings a wave of nausea over me.

  “Please, come in Pollen,” says Granby when he notices that my body is frozen in the doorway. He never knew that the illicit affair Glenn and I shared was in here that horrible day. At least I don’t think he knows.

  My footsteps are hesitant, but they bring me into the room, and the walls feel like they’re closing in on me. I try to push the vague memories out of my head. Not memories, really. But sensations. I had so much to drink that day I don’t remember much. But I remember the scents. The way the air flowed. The glow of the lights when they were turned back on and I found Glenn passed out on my naked body. And the awful guilt that chased me since that day.

  “Sit down, please.”

  I opt for a chair by the desk this time, staying as far from the loveseat as possible. Granby sits on the other side of his desk, flips open his laptop and pulls some flash drives from his desk. He inhales deeply before sliding a flash drive into the side of the computer.

  “Pollen, you are aware of the Trinity’s interest in Evie—in extracting her DNA. Correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “When you were confronted by the Trinity, did they say anything specific about your DNA?”

  “No. But they were interested in my son. They said if they had him, they wouldn’t need Evie anymore.”

  “Right. They wouldn’t.” Granby pauses briefly to gather his thoughts. “Look, Pollen, I’m not a scientist. This is really something that Myra or one of the others should discuss with you, but right now they’re too busy processing in the new refugees and I know how restless you are, always being kept under guard. I just wanted to pull you aside and explain to you why we are keeping such a watchful eye on you. It’s not just because you are at flight risk. There’s more to it than that.” Granby pauses briefly, as if to judge whether or not I’m ready to hear what he has to say. “Myra believes that you and Evie share this same genetic anomaly.”

  “Then why do they need her? Why didn’t they just take me to begin with? I would have happily donated as much blood as they wanted if that meant Evie didn’t have to. Evie was the only reason we left Crimson. I probably would have stayed if they had left her alone. That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Like I said, Pollen, I’m not a scientist. Look at this,” Granby says as he swivels the laptop around to face me. On the monitor is a spreadsheet. I scroll down through what must be thousands of names, and then scroll back up to the top of the document. On this page are names of some of the elite here: Chlamyra Rowan, General Granby, Marley Headras, and so on. Pollen McRae is at the top of the list.

  “What is this?” I ask.

  “This is their ‘wanted’ list. We suspect they distribute this list to their bounty hunters. The names closest to the top are the most valuable catches. See the date next to your name?” I trace the line next to my name, stopping at the date.

  “That was right after we came to Ceborec. After we escaped,” I murmur.

  “As you can see, you are highly valuable to the Trinity. Which is why we need to protect you. I’m sorry if you feel trapped here with no privacy. But we can’t afford for them to get their hands on you.”

  My head spins and a blanket of heat washes over me. I can’t tell if I’m going to vomit or pass out.

  “Are you alright, Pollen?”

  I shake my head. “I’m not feeling so well.”

  “Can I get you some water?”r />
  I nod. Granby stands and paces to a small table against an adjacent wall. Three glasses lie upside down next to a blue-tinted glass pitcher of water. On the wall above the table is a framed cross-stitch picture. A quote, actually.

  “One’s greatest fear, when confronted,

  Invokes one’s greatest strength.”

  ~Anonymous

  When he turns back to me, Granby notices my eyes fixed on the quote.

  “My mother made that for me when I joined the army twenty-four years ago. Excellent quote. And very true.” I take the glass of water from him and sip it slowly.

  “I don’t understand it. How can your greatest fear be your greatest strength? Isn’t that contradictory?”

  “I know it seems like a paradox when you first read it. But think on it for a while. You’ll get it.” Granby smiles. I roll my eyes. He really does sound like my father now. Good time to change the subject.

  “General Granby, what’s up with the perimeter? Marcus said you’re erecting an electromagnetic fence.”

  “Yes,” he says reluctantly. “It’s the first stage of our defense against the Crimson Enforcers.”

  “But Enforcers don’t have the tattoo. The fence will have no effect on them.”

  “Not traditional Enforcers, no. But the others at Crimson who do have the tattoo will not be able to penetrate the perimeter without losing their senses.”

  “I understand its purpose. What I don’t understand is why you think the residents at Crimson would join the Enforcers to launch an attack here. They weren’t soldiers and they certainly weren’t being trained as such while I was there.”

  “No, they weren’t. Not while you were there.” Granby picks up one of the flash drives and flips it around his fingers, trying to keep his hands occupied. “You know Marge Rosenfritz is a biochemical genius?” I nod. “Her team of scientists have developed a unique substance, a mind-altering drug if you will. On this flash drive are hundreds of trials. Myra believes they have been injecting the residents of Crimson with this drug and that’s how they’ve formed their army. Don’t ask me the mechanics of how it works—that’s a question for Myra. Trust me, Pollen. There is so much information on these drives I can’t begin to explain it all to you. We know what their plans are. And they will be stopped. Right now, the only thing you need to worry about is keeping yourself safe, while we determine a plan to retrieve Evie.”