The Trinity

by Daelynn Quinn

  I knew she’d do it to herself. Was she looking to score sympathy points from me? If she was, it didn’t work. Okay maybe it did. A little. But Pollen is not part of my life anymore and I need to find another distraction to keep her out of my head now that she’s training with us. I need a drink. Or twelve.

  It’s a quiet night at The Snake Hole. I wave at a few of my fellow soldiers gathered around a tall table in the corner. They invite me to join them, but I decline. I plan to do some hard drinking tonight.

  At the bar there’s only one other person—a middle-aged balding man, sipping bourbon on the rocks. The bartender is a tall dark-haired guy who looks like he’d be able to sniff drugs out of someone’s anal cavity. Seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a nose that big.

  “Hey, Marcus right?” The bartender smiles at me while casually rubbing a pint glass dry with a blue and white striped bar towel.

  “Uh, yeah, and you are?”

  “Oh, that’s right. I heard you couldn’t remember the past few months. I’m Cain. What can I get you?”

  “Anything that will take my troubles away.”

  Cain snickers as he drops the glass upside down on the rubber mat next to the others.

  “I’ve got just the thing.”

  I watch him as he turns his back and pours at least five different kinds of alcohol into a cocktail shaker with ice, shakes it vigorously, and pours it into a tall glass before me.

  I swallow a mouthful, instantly regretting it as it burns a trail from the tip of my tongue to the pit of my stomach. The fiery sensation expands to my lungs and I begin hacking like I just smoked my first cigarette.

  “Whoa, man, take it easy! You don’t want to chug that.”

  “Yeah, I got that,” I choke out after the coughing subsides.

  “What’s going on Marcus? I’ve never seen you as the type to knock them back like that. Is everything okay?”

  I rest my head between my hands, combing my fingers through my hair. “Not really. I—”

  “Hey Marcus!” Siera flounces in, tossing her flaming hair back like the windswept mane of a stallion.

  “What are you having, Siera?” Cain asks.

  “The usual,” she replies, mounting the empty stool beside me. “Thanks, Cain.”

  “What brings you here?” she asks giving me a sidelong glance.

  “Drowning my worries away. You?”

  “Oh, I come here most nights. I love kids—you know that. But sometimes they drive me up the wall with all that whining and bickering. I need something to settle my nerves before turning in and starting all over in the morning.” Siera took up Pollen’s post at the preschool. I wonder if Pollen used to complain about the children as much as Siera does. There I go again, thinking about her. Stop it Marcus!

  I take another gulp of my drink, though this time it flows smoothly down my throat. The fire seemed to have left a numbing effect behind the initial burning.

  Cain sets down a pint of pale lager in front of Siera, who immediately drinks half of it.

  “And you wanted kids so desperately you were willing to throw it all away.”

  “If I could go back, Marcus—”

  “Don’t.”

  “I made the biggest mistake of my life that day. I was stupid. I’ve never regretting anything more than the day I left you.”

  “I said don’t,” I bark. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  “But maybe if we talked about it—”

  “What’s to talk about? It was over three years ago. You made your choice. There are no do-overs. I don’t want to discuss this anymore.”

  “I’m sorry, Marcus. You’re right.” Siera turns to the bartender. “Cain, could you fill his glass?” I hadn’t realized I’d been downing the drink so fast. There’s only a smidgen left. I swallow it down, keeping one of the ice cubes in my mouth to chew.

  “No, I’m good,” I say, waving Cain away. I remember what happened with Pollen the last time I got drunk. I had just rescued her from a band of redneck bounty hunters after a stressful couple of days in the woods with no memories. After such traumatic experiences our bodies were both aching for release. We only kissed that night, but it could have led to more. I don’t want to make that mistake with Siera.

  A sharp thunk sounds on the other side of me at the bar. I spin around to find Glenn leaning there like a lush, his face flushed and his mouth drooping lazily open.

  “Cain . . . another one . . .” he slurs. I want to take his head and slam it against the bar. But I hold back. He catches me eying him and before I can turn away, he opens his big fat mouth.

  “You’re an idiot, Marcus.” Each word seems to blend into the next.

  “What did you say to me?”

  “I said you. Are. An. Id-i-ot. Want me to spell it?”

  “And you’re a dipsomaniac.”

  “Whatever you said. At least I didn’t throw away the most incredible woman in the universe. Twice!”

  “Yeah, well, when you find her let me know.”

  “Exactly. You’re an idiot.”

  “Hey, lay off him!” Siera shouts across me.

  “And cavorting with your ex, no less!” Glenn rebukes. “Way to go Marcus! You really know how to screw up a good thing. And I should know!”

  That’s it. I’ve had enough. Rage spills out of every pore on my skin. I kick the stool out from under me. It clatters to the floor, drawing the attention of every patron here. But not me. No, my eyes are fixed on Glenn as he chugs a bottle of beer. I grab him by the collar, yanking him to me.

  “Marcus,” Siera calls out. “I think we should go.”

  My arm quakes with fury, the tremors causing Glenn’s body to shake, yet his face is the picture of calm. He wants me to hit him.

  “Marcus?” I flinch at the touch of Siera’s hand upon my shoulder. “It’s not worth it. If Granby finds out—let’s just go. I’ll walk you home.”

  With rueful self-control, I release Glenn. He stumbles back into the stool behind him, barely able to stay on his feet. Just before I turn to leave he grins at me. It takes every ounce of restraint not to take him out right now. But Siera’s right. It’s not worth it.

  ***

  “I don’t want to go home,” I say to no one in particular, although Siera is the only person around.

  “So let’s go do something,” Siera responds. “I hear there’s a really good bowling alley here. I could go for a few rounds.”

  For a split second, I get the essence of a memory flash before me. I see her face, radiating a warm glow under dim lighting. Rumbling of marble balls rolling down the aisles and crashing of the pins. Then I see Glenn’s face and I feel intense anger. “I don’t want to go bowling.”

  “Okay. What about the gardens? I haven’t seen them yet.”

  I have a feeling there aren’t many places here that Pollen and I haven’t spent time together. Maybe I’ll find some peace with Siera in the gardens. Hopefully there won’t be any meaningful memories down there.

  ***

  The air is warm and damp. Immediately as we enter the greenhouse, sweat begins to bead on my forehead and I wipe it with my arm before it has a chance to drip down the side of my face. Of all the greenhouses here, why did Siera choose the tropical greenhouse? Down the three center aisles grow trees, dotted with citrus fruits, ranging in color from pale yellow to bright red. I try to ignore the perplexed looks of the scientists in white lab coats as we trudge along under the boughs of a pomelo tree.

  “You know, that reminded me of that time you and Grant Barsky got into it at Veronica’s party,” Siera muses. “You remember that?”

  I chuckle as I nod. Grant Barsky was the quarterback of our high school’s rival football team. He somehow got into a party our friend Veronica was throwing for homecoming, got completely wasted, and then tried to take Siera home with him.

  “You mean that time Grant fell into the coffee table, broke his nose, busted his lip, and somehow ended up with a black eye?”

 
; Siera’s laugh bounces of the greenhouse ceiling. “Yeah, he fell. You were quite the knight in shining armor back then.”

  “Yeah, that was real noble of me,” I say with a sardonic note.

  “You were noble tonight, Marcus. I’m impressed you walked away like you did. I couldn’t have blamed you if you had hit him, though. He had it coming.”

  “Can we talk about something else please?”

  “Of course,” Siera replies. “How about the nights we all got together at the Point Lookout. Good times, those were. Hanging out with friends. Partying around the bonfire. No responsibilities. No worries to keep us up at night.”

  “Those were good times,” I agree. “Except for the time I had to hold your hair while you puked. That wasn’t such a great night.”

  “Oh come on, Marcus. They were all good times. Because we were together.”

  Siera slips her silky hand in mine and for a moment I hold it gently, feeling her pulse against my fingers. But when I look up I see something. A steel door that leads to the Web. Next to it, a screen designed for handprint identification. Suddenly a vision flashes into my mind. Blood in my hands. Weight in my arms. Pollen’s face, draped over like she’s passed out. And this overwhelming fear that I might lose her.

  I rip my hand from Siera’s.

  “What’s wrong?” She says as I turn to dart back through the greenhouse toward the elevator.

  “I have to go.”

  Chapter 18

  (Pollen)

  It’s amazing how rapidly the human body can bounce back after giving birth. Or maybe it’s just my genetic condition. Within one week of beginning my training with the Ceborec army I’ve regained my stamina for running long distances. I’m still not as fast as I once was and I’m still lagging behind the other soldiers a bit, but I’m quickly gaining. I can complete the obstacle course in record time and my shooting skills have improved dramatically, most likely because I am sneaking in some extra time at the range. Granby wouldn’t approve, but Harrison has been smuggling me in during breaks since he used to work at the armory before becoming a soldier. To keep anyone from finding me out Harrison has been signing out a gun and ammo for himself, then he lets me use it while he naps or eats lunch on the lawn.

  “You’re looking really hot, Pollen. Especially for a new mommy.” Harrison says as he stands behind me, watching me shoot at the balloon target in the distance. I can feel his eyes graze my backside. “You sure you won’t give me a shot?”

  “Harrison, love is the last thing on my mind right now.”

  “Who said anything about love? We could do that friends with benefits thing, you know?” Harrison cups his hand around the back of my neck, stroking it with his thumb. My shot clearly misses the target and I jerk away from him.

  “Damn it Harrison! You made me miss!”

  “Lost your focus, eh?” A devilish smirk slowly climbs to his cheek.

  A haughty grunt escapes my lungs as I turn back to my target.

  “You know,” Harrison says, beginning to stroke my arm with featherlike pressure, “you need to learn to block out this kind of stuff. It would be good preparation. I think I could have some fun today.”

  “Don’t even think about it Harrison.” I glare at him and he backs up, palms in the air in a pose of surrender.

  “Whoa, okay. Not in the mood today. Got it.”

  Swinging back to the range I take aim as I watch the target balloon up. I close one eye and then open it, trying to get a good shot. I pull the trigger. A split second later the bubble pops and another replaces it.

  I raise the gun up again preparing to take aim. Just as my finger twitches on the trigger a hand brushes against my side. I whirl around aiming my pistol at the licentious rake.

  “Sorry, Polly, didn’t mean to startle you!”

  “Glenn! I thought you were—” I search behind him, but Harrison is gone. “What are you doing here?”

  “I should be asking you that.”

  “I’m training,” I say, turning back and firing another shot at the target. “What does it look like?”

  “You need to take breaks like the rest of us. You train all day. You of all people should get some rest.”

  “I’ll rest when I’m dead.” I spin around and take another shot, popping the target again. “Besides, you’re here. Why aren’t you resting?”

  Glenn inhales sharply. “I followed you. Only, I’m here legally.” He pats the strap of his rifle, which hangs on his shoulder. “Have you eaten yet?”

  “I’m not hungry.” I frown.

  “Seriously? You haven’t—” Glenn cuts himself off, a look of agitation sweeps over his face.

  “Okay, I’ve got some crackers and cheese in my pack—plenty for both of us. Let’s pop out all our rounds quickly and go have lunch on the hill.”

  “But Glenn, I’m really not—”

  “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  “Okay,” I agree. I’m just glad that he’s not here to chastise me further about joining the army. As if I don’t have enough dissent following me right now.

  ***

  Glenn unbuttons his gray camouflage shirt and lays it across the grass for me to sit upon, leaving only his white undershirt stretched across the blooming muscles in his chest. He parks himself on the grass next to me and offers me a paper bag filled with multigrain crackers. I take a handful and push the bag away.

  Glenn stacks two crackers and two thick slices of white cheese and crams them into his mouth, while I take tiny birdlike nibbles. I’m really not as hungry as I should be, considering I haven’t been eating regularly.

  “So what have you been up to lately?” I ask, and then quickly add, “apart from training of course.”

  “Um . . . eating and sleeping. You?”

  “The same,” I giggle. “Well, sleeping anyway.”

  “Polly, we’ve been through this too many times. You need to eat. Especially now that you’re training all day. You’ll wither away if you don’t.”

  “I know. I’ll try. I promise.”

  I watch the valley below as two soldiers emerge from the woods in the distance. I can’t pinpoint who they are, but it’s definitely a male and a female. Probably doing the dirty on their lunch break.

  “Spending time with Kharma?” I ask, still watching the lovers in the distance.

  Glenn huffs. “I haven’t seen her since that day. I never was really interested in her. You were right. I knew you and Marcus were out there. I just wanted to make you jealous.”

  I narrow my eyes and shove him in the shoulder.

  “Did it work?” he asks.

  “A little,” I admit. I try to avoid eye contact, but can’t help peering back up at him to gauge his reaction.

  Glenn’s hazel eye locks on mine. He leans in, slowly, and his lips part ever so slightly. My heart lurches with trepidation. My breathing quickens. I’m not ready for this.

  “No, Glenn.” I place the tips of my fingers over his lips, only inches from mine, to stop him. “I can’t.”

  “Polly—”

  “Glenn I will admit I still love you. I can’t help it; a part of me always will. But you know I can’t be with you. Marcus will regain his memories and we will get back together.”

  “And what if he remembers and still chooses to leave you?”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “But it might.”

  I let out an exasperated huff and yank a handful of dried grass, letting it slip through my fingers and sprinkle back to the ground. “If it happens, which it won’t, I still can’t be with you Glenn. Because my heart belongs to Marcus. It will always. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  Glenn lies back and rubs his hands over his face. “You’re killing me Pollen. Maybe Drake’s right. Maybe it’s better that we don’t see each other anymore.”

  “Don’t say that.” My heart breaks a little to hear those words come from him. Glenn is still my friend. I don’t want to lose him, too.

  “No,
really. I can’t stand being around you knowing that I can never have you. You have no idea the kind of effect you have on me. It’s torture.”

  Great. As if I don’t already feel badly enough. I’ve lost Evie. I’ve lost Marcus. I could lose my baby any day. And now I’ve tortured Glenn. How many more lives can I ruin?

  “Stop Polly. I see that look in your eyes.”

  “Well, what do you expect after telling me something like that? What do you want me to do Glenn?” I lurch to my feet, shake the bits of grass out Glenn’s shirt and hurl it at him. “Drop everything that’s going on in my life right now to be with you? Is that all you care about? You can’t tell me that I’m torturing you and just expect me to brush it off.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Glenn says as he climbs to his feet.

  “But it’s true, isn’t it?”

  “Polly—”

  “No, forget it Glenn. I won’t torture you anymore. Just stay away from me.” I spin on my heel and stomp away, feeling pressure build up under my eyes. Glenn’s heavy footsteps pursue me so I quicken my pace.

  “Pollen, wait!”

  My insides jump to my throat when the high-pitched squeal of sirens slice through the air. I stop and turn to Glenn. His face has changed. He is no longer thinking about me. He now bears the expression of a warrior about to enter battle. His eye turns back to me painfully, urging me to go inside. I shake my head ever so slightly, hardening my eyes on him. The siren is a signal that Ceborec is being attacked. Not simply a perimeter breach, but a full-scale invasion.

  I turn to sprint to the armory, but Glenn grabs my wrist and tugs me back. He looks hard into my eyes. Something tells me I should not defy him now.

  “Stay with me Pollen. Do not leave my sight.”

  I nod reluctantly, grateful that he is not commanding me to go to the safety of the building. I’m also grateful that I’m not with Drake, whose orders I would have to follow if he made that command, given his high ranking. I’ll have to be sure to avoid him if I see him.

  As we approach the armory, some soldiers are already spilling out while others are pouring in. Inside is a tempest of disordered activity. Granby is shouting commands over the din. Soldiers are scrambling to arm themselves with guns and ammunition.