“I must be slacking off.” Marcus cups my face in his hands and brushes his firm lips against mine. As he attempts to pull me closer, my belly bulges against the rocks of his abdomen. He chuckles and his lips regretfully leave mine.
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly.
“Don’t be. I love it.” Marcus wraps his hand around the arch of my lower back and pulls me against him tighter. “I want to feel him.”
At that precise moment, as if the fetus heard Marcus, a movement stirs within my womb. An elbow, or a knee perhaps, glides along my front side, pressing into Marcus’s stomach.
Marcus closes his eyes and his lips curl up. He is the picture of bliss. When he opens his eyes again and gazes into mine, he is unconditional love. This is my Marcus. This is how I always want to see him.
“What?” he asks when he catches me staring at him.
“Nothing. Just thinking about how lucky I am to be with you.”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“Marcus, you could have anybody you want.” Siera comes to mind; her gorgeous fiery locks, her curvy frame, her perfect skin—clear as glass and free from disfiguring scars.
“I don’t want anyone. I want you, Pollen.”
When he reaches for my face again I jerk away slightly. It wasn’t intentional, but his face distorts as if it was.
“What about Siera?”
Marcus exhales a groaning sigh, like a kid whose mother just told him to take out the trash. “Siera is nothing to me.”
“You said that about me once.”
“You know I didn’t mean it.”
“Exactly.”
“Pollen. Trust me. You have nothing to worry about. Siera is history. That is all.”
“Remember when I said that once?”
Marcus rolls his eyes. “My relationship with Siera is nothing like yours is with Glenn. You two have remained friends. Siera and I have not. There’s no comparison.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I guess I’m just scared. I’ve hurt you and you have every excuse to leave me for someone else.”
Marcus cups my chin and forces me to look him in the eyes. “Pollen, you and I have hurt each other more than any two people ever should. And yet here we are. Still together. Nothing and nobody will change that.” Marcus takes my lips into his. His kiss is like a drug, whirling me into a state of deep euphoria.
The dried leaves on the ground scratch and tickle my bare calves, but I don’t care. When I’m in Marcus’s arms almost nothing can bother me. Life is almost perfect. The only thing missing is Evie. That anchor is keeping me from moving forward. I have to find a way to rescue her.
A shuffling of leaves in the distance interrupts our reverie. I lurch out of Marcus’s arms.
“Who could that be?” I whisper. I struggle to sit up with this enormous hump on my front side, but Marcus pulls me back down, seemingly unconcerned, but yet I can see something behind his eyes—his need to protect me.
“Stay down. It’s probably just someone in Arena Seven, wandering too close to the border. Until we know for sure we should lay low.”
Marcus rolls away from me and on to his belly, staring off into the distance. He keeps his hand on the pistol in his holster. The fact that he’s only carrying paint bullets doesn’t deter him. I watch him, waiting for a reaction. After a minute, his lips curl up to one side in a devious smirk. He twists his head back toward me and jerks it sharply in the direction of our unaware visitors.
I shimmy closer to him to see around the birch, and spot them about a hundred yards away. A lustful couple seeking privacy in the woods are smashed up against a tree, deep in heavy foreplay. I squint to focus my vision and a sting of jealousy burns in my heart. It’s Glenn, about to get busy with Kharma, one of the soldiers in the Granby’s army. She flirted to no end Marcus when we were separated. I wonder why she’s with Glenn now. Why do I even care? Glenn is my past. Marcus is my future. Glenn can be with whomever he wants. I’m the one who told him to move on. I’m the one who pushed him away and told him to find someone else. It shouldn’t annoy me like this. But it does.
“You have an audience!” I shout and Marcus slaps me playfully.
“Why did you do that? He’s finally moving on. You should just let them be.”
“We can’t just sit here and watch!” Marcus’s smile fades as he senses the jealous tension emanating around me.
“Who’s there?” Glenn calls out.
Marcus stands and pulls me to my feet. Kharma flips back her short dark hair as she follows Glenn toward us. Her shirt is unbuttoned down to the chest, but she doesn’t bother fixing it; I wonder if she’s trying to make me jealous. Glenn’s face has a whole new set of bruises from the fight he got into the other day. Pretty soon I’ll forget what he actually looks like when he’s not black and blue. He looks at me painfully, and then back at Marcus.
“Sorry, we didn’t know anyone was out here,” Glenn says flatly. Yeah, like I’m buying that. Our names were signed in for this arena. He had to have known we’d be here. He’s just throwing it in my face now; trying to make me jealous. It’s working. I want to scream at him for doing it—that groping some other girl in front of me is not what I meant about moving on. But I bite my tongue. I don’t want to stir anything up between Marcus and me.
“Well, maybe you should check the roster next time.” I glower at Glenn, but he simply smiles back.
“No, it’s not a problem.” Marcus nudges me. “You two gone on—we won’t interrupt. Unless you want to create some abstract art the woods?” he says, holding his pistol in the air.
Glenn shrugs his shoulders and looks down at Kharma. She looks like she couldn’t be any less interested in spending a second longer with Marcus and me.
“What do you say?” Glenn asks.
Suddenly, a gunshot rips through the air in the direction of the perimeter and some muffled shouts filter through the trees. Marcus ejects the magazine from his gun, letting it plummet to his feet. From the back pocket of his pants he pulls out another magazine. But this one is not loaded with paint bullets. Another shot echoes between the trees.
“Marcus, where did you get that?” I ask. My heart thumps wildly.
“Glenn, take Pollen back now,” Marcus commands as he pushes me toward Glenn. The urgency in his voice frightens me.
“Wait, Marcus, what’s going on?” I beg. But Glenn’s already clenching my arm too tightly and leading me back to the complex. I turn back but Marcus is sprinting toward the fracas. In my peripheral vision I see Kharma buttoning up her top as she runs along Glenn’s other side.
“Glenn, why does Marcus have real bullets?”
“Because he’s Granby’s little pet,” Glenn grumbles.
“What?”
“Look, Pollen. Things have changed since we got back from Crimson. We still use paint to train, but some of the soldiers are always armed now, just in case. Granby wanted Marcus armed at all times since he’s almost always with you. He’s not taking any chances.”
“What about you? Aren’t you armed too?”
“I wasn’t granted that privilege,” Glenn retorts sharply.
I want to go back. I want to be with Marcus. I’m scared for him. I know he’s a soldier and he’s trained for this, but I don’t want him risking his life for me. I couldn’t bear to lose him. Oh, god, I hope he comes home tonight.
Gunshots ring out and reverberate among the trees. Then more gunshots. Screw it.
“Glenn, you’re hurting me,” I complain, while squirming in his clutch, over exaggerating false pain.
“Sorry, Poll—” The moment he loosens his grip, I turn and run.
Chapter 9
(Marcus)
“Glenn, take Pollen back now.” Dropping my animosity for Glenn, I shove her into his arms and take off without even a glance back. I wonder if I pushed too hard. In her condition I don’t know where to draw the line when it comes to roughness. Who am I kidding? The baby survived her being shot. She’ll be okay.
&nb
sp; I hope Pollen isn’t too pissed that I didn’t tell her about the bullets. I just didn’t want to worry her. Granby knew this was a possibility and I’m glad he trusted me to carry them. He really ought to let all the soldiers carry them now. I could have used Glenn as backup if he’d been armed.
Was that Tyler I heard shouting? Another gunshot. And another. And another. Shit. My legs fly beneath me, racing toward the commotion at the perimeter. I pray they’re fighting inside the boundary. With my limited ammunition I’ll be useless unless the intruders have breached the perimeter. Glenn had better get her back to the building fast. Who knows how many more there may be around here.
As I close in on the perimeter the bleak silence stabs me in the gut. There’s a Watcher down, just beyond the sleek rocket-shaped electromagnetic pylon that I cannot cross. And another one a few feet away from him. And another. Three in total. I inspect the bodies carefully. Each killed by a single bullet. One to the heart and the two others in the head. I suspect there is only one perpetrator. A bounty hunter, most likely. Three Watchers down and a killer on the loose. A killer who is after Pollen. I can’t let him escape.
A shot rings out and I can feel the pressure as the bullet cuts through the wind by my face. I duck behind a tree, but the birches here are barely wide enough to cover my forearm. He’s behind the pylon, the only place wide enough to hide his body. I aim my pistol, ready to fire when he exposes himself. My heart hammers at the wall of my chest and I slow my breathing to get it under control. My eyes narrow, fixed on the sleek edge of the pylon, ready and waiting. He steps out and I fire, but he instantly retracts and my bullet cracks into the side of the pylon, shooting sparks in its retraction. The bounty hunter immediately pulls out the other side of the pylon and shoots. The bullet grazes me, slicing through my shoulder. I wince at the burning pain that sears through my arm, and instinctively fire another shot, missing him completely.
Two bullets down. Keeping my eyes glued to the pylon I creep to the left, finding another tree to cover me. As the bounty hunter emerges from the pylon there’s a brief moment of confusion while he searches for me. I fire two shots. One hits him in the arm; the other misses. He’s back behind the pylon again. Shots ring out from the other side of the pylon, but I can’t see his body. I return fire. I’ve only got two shots left. Damn. I need to find a way to lure him out and inside the perimeter. He shoots again. The bullet grazes my back, which unwittingly arches at the pain. I see him now, poking his head out from behind the pylon. I shoot my last two bullets. He’s disappeared behind his cover. Shit.
All is silent now. Is he out of bullets, too? Blood and sweat drip down my back and my shoulder burns from the wound. The only sound I can hear is my own skull-crushing heartbeat. Why isn’t he coming out? Did my bullets hit him?
I can’t be still any longer. I edge away from the tree, eyes still bolted to the pylon. With slow, steady movements I creep toward the edge of the perimeter, careful not to get too close. I can feel the energy pulsating from the pylon and I take a step backward.
Quicker than a wink, the bounty hunter lurches from behind the pylon and smashes me to the ground. He didn’t look this massive from far away. His weight bears down on me and his clenched fist slams into the side of my face. My fingers search for the wound in his arm. I follow the warm liquid trail oozing from the wound and I jam my thumb into it, twisting forcefully. His screams, which I might ordinarily find ear splitting, are like a melodic symphony now. In his weakness I roll him over, straddling him and bring my fist down crashing into his nose.
“Marcus!” A voice cries out nearby. Pollen? What the hell?
I know I shouldn’t tear my focus away from the enemy, but I can’t stop myself. My head jerks up to see Pollen only a few steps away from me. Glenn holds her back, but that gives me no comfort. She can’t be here.
The bounty hunter’s thick, monstrous hand clamps around my throat. I claw at it but it’s cemented to my skin. He rolls me over and sits atop me, keeping his hand firmly in place. My vision begins to darken around the edges. Tiny flashes of light, like blinking stars, mingle with the horrifying sight of my soon-to-be killer.
“Glenn, help him!” she cries.
The weight lifts off of me, but it takes a moment for my vision to clear. My lungs grasp for air as I cough uncontrollably to the point of dry heaving. I roll over to my hands and knees and curl up until I regain my consciousness.
Behind me, the bounty hunter is on top of Glenn, beating him to a bloody pulp. I catapult myself on to his back, twisting my arm around his neck, and pull hard. He tumbles back, landing on top of me, crushing the air out of my lungs once again. Beyond him I can see Glenn get up. But where is he going? I hear the sound of gunshots, but they sound different. They’re paint bullets. I crane my head under the beast to find Pollen cowering before another hulking man dressed in rags, holding her pistol in her trembling hands. There were two of them? Damn it Pollen!
As the bounty hunter lifts himself off of me, I kick his groin and roll him over to his stomach, pinning his right arm behind his back. In one swift move I jerk his arm with a snap, and he cries out, his bellows rising to the rusty sky. I risk a quick glance to check on Pollen. Glenn has the other bounty hunter on the ground, kicking him in the head. He looks like he’s knocked out.
From under me, the bounty hunter lurches and takes off running into the woods. I take off after him. I can’t let him get away.
“Marcus, no!” she cries out. But it’s too late.
***
Hushed murmurs drift in and out of my ears. Am I sleeping? Am I dreaming? Am I in a hospital? It smells like it—a concoction of disinfectant, latex, and sanitizer.
Two voices—a male and a female—argue amongst the beeps and chirps of machinery in the background.
“Look, I’m trying okay? Just like you asked.”
“I meant for you to go ask a girl out for coffee or something. Not rape her in front of me.”
“What are you jealous?”
“Of course not. Let’s just drop it, okay?”
“Sure. But did you—”
“Shh! I think he’s waking!”
My head is pounding, but I have to find out what’s happened. The blinding light is like a steel dagger stabbing deep into my brain and I shut my eyes tight. After a moment I can see the light dim through my closed eyelids and I blink them open again, pushing through the sting. There she stands above me. The most beautiful site in the world. I’m so glad she’s okay. That they didn’t get her. But where are we? And how did she bring me here?
“Pollen.” My voice barely catches, giving me the articulation of a horny bullfrog.
“Marcus, oh thank god! I was so afraid you’d forgotten me!” She cradles my face in her palms and kisses me. No, more than that. She kisses me more deeply and seductively than I could have imagined. Where is this coming from?
“Where are we?” I ask as she sits down on a stool next to my bed so that she is eye level with me.
“We’re in the medical clinic. At Ceborec.”
“Ceborec?” I ask. Where the hell is that? “I don’t understand. How long have I been out?”
“A couple days. I was so worried about you Marcus. I hope you’re not too mad at me for coming after you.” Mad, why would I be mad?
“Of course not. But the car crash . . . how did you get me here?”
Pollen’s face melts into dysphoria and confusion. The whites of her eyes take on a pinkish hue. She looks like she’s about to cry.
“Marcus, what’s the last thing you remember?”
“We were in a car, driving down 275. Trying to get away from your boyfriend. Then we saw the Enforcers and crashed.”
Pollen cups her hand to her mouth as if she’s just received the news that someone very close and precious to her had died. A person approaches her from behind. It’s him. He looks different, though. The eye patch. His face swollen and beaten. Must be injuries he sustained when his truck crashed. There isn’t a thread of sympa
thy in my heart for him. If my head didn’t hurt so badly I’d add a few broken bones to his diagnoses.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I growl. I begin to rise, but Pollen pushes me back down as she stands . . . to defend him?
“Marcus, you don’t understand. You just woke up. I need to explain this to you, but you need to be fully lucid first.”
Whoa. Pollen’s stomach is enormous. She looks like she’s six months pregnant. How can that be? She grasps her belly with both hands when she sees me staring at it.
“Pollen, I thought you said I was only out for two days.”
“Yes, that’s right. But—”
“How the hell are you pregnant?”
“It’s a long story, man,” Glenn cuts in. “Now’s not the time—”
“Get out.” He has no business being here. Being anywhere near her. He betrayed her and broke her heart. Why is she with him now? Is that his baby? But how?
“Glenn, you’d better leave,” Pollen says, turning to him. “I’ll be okay.” He nods and shoves off. Good riddance.
“Pollen, what’s going on?” Bewilderment seems to be setting in stronger now than when I awoke. Nothing makes any sense.
Pollen returns to sit next to me, but I can’t take my eyes off her stomach. How can she be pregnant when just two days ago she had that sweet, curvy body pressed against me?
“Marcus, you’ve lost your memories.”
That much I figured.
“Do you remember when we met Myra?” Myra. That name sounds familiar. Was she that chick in the van? I nod.
“Remember what she said about the tattoos? The ink?”
“Yeah, it erases memories. I remember. So what happened?”
“After the crash we were taken back to Crimson and retagged.” Pollen continues to tell me the story of how we were locked up in solitary for weeks, we escaped with Evie, and came to live here at COPS headquarters. And the outlandish story of how Glenn is on our side now.
“We live together now, Marcus. We’re engaged.” She raises her hand to show me. She’s wearing my mother’s wedding ring. How could I possibly forget that? A picture flashes into my mind—Pollen is wearing a wedding gown and I’m putting the ring on her finger. Daisies strewn across the floor. Then I yank the ring off. Is that a memory or a dream? We’re engaged. We haven’t gotten married yet. I must be imagining things.
The Trinity Page 6
