“I need a gun.” She smiles as she catches her breath.
I reach down and remove the gun from the holster of the dead body. I toss it to Timber and she briefly checks the magazine.
Glenn throws me my gun and he turns and shoots toward a band of Enforcers headed our way. Timber and I duck behind a pair of pines, taking random shots and dodging bullets.
“Thanks, babe,” Timber says, leaning back into the bark of the tree.
“What, you think I’m going to let one of them take my best friend?”
“Where’s Drake?” A look of concern makes Timber’s face sag slightly.
“He and Marcus went ahead of us. I don’t know where they are now.”
“Marcus?”
Despite the air being riddled with bullets and soldiers injured and dying all around us, a smile breaks the tension on my face. “He remembers.” Timber pulls around her tree and fires three shots.
As I prepare to lean out and shoot, somebody grabs me from behind. His scratchy hand adheres to my lips and he crushes my ribs with his other. I try to scream, but his hand muffles the sound. I kick and flail my arms, but he hoists me into the air, leaving the space behind the pine silent while Glenn and Timber continue to fight.
“I know you,” he whispers. His voice sounds like metal scratching against stone. “The Trinity will reward me well for your capture.”
Just then, I remember that I’m still holding my gun and a bullet is still in the chamber. I relax my limbs, allowing him to carry me away from the action. When he sees that I’m cooperating, he loosens his grip on me allowing me to wriggle my arm loose. In one swift motion, I stretch my arm over my shoulder, jab the barrel of the gun into the well of his shoulder and pull the trigger. The Enforcer drops, pulling me down on top of him. I don’t bother to check his body. Instead I run.
Glenn is frantic when he sees me. His eye pulses rage and his body jerks with tight, controlled movements.
“Where the hell were you?”
“You’re doing a great job looking out for me,” I grunt sarcastically. “Keep it up.”
“I’m not kidding, Pollen. I thought I lost you.”
“You almost did.” I eject the magazine and jam a full one into my pistol and begin to backtrack, looking for Marcus and Drake. Timber, Glenn, and I fell a few Enforcers on our way back.
I spot Marcus, doing well at holding off three Enforcers at once. I can’t see Drake, but I keep moving, shooting the occasional straggler on the way.
Finally I find Drake marching through the woods in my direction. His face is twitching again, this time much more noticeable. Something doesn’t feel right. I start to run to him but stop short. There’s something wrong with his eyes. They look vacant. Empty.
He lifts his gun and shoots, hitting the chest of one of our own Ceborec soldiers. He turns and shoots another. One of the soldiers from my own squad, Cedar, implores him from behind, trying to stop him. He turns and shoots her between the eyes.
I gasp in horror, cupping my hands over my mouth to stifle the sound. What’s wrong with my brother? This can’t be happening. I shake my head to try and clear my vision. That can’t be Drake. It must be an Enforcer dressed as one of us. That’s not my brother. That’s not Evie’s father.
I have to stop this, before he hurts anyone else. Maybe it’s PTSD, or some other kind of mental illness caused by stress. If I can just get him back to the medical clinic, he’ll be okay. I have to get him back to the clinic. I rush to him.
“Drake!” He doesn’t turn to me. I can’t even be sure that he heard me.
“Drake, stop!” I scream.
There’s no way he didn’t hear me this time. But he keeps shooting. Not Enforcers, but more of our own. I turn and shout to Marcus to help me, but he can’t hear me over the gunfire. I have to do this myself.
“Drake, don’t do this,” I say, grabbing his shoulder from behind. He brings his elbow back, deep into my chest and I tumble back into a tree. My head snaps back against the trunk. I don’t know which hurts more, the stabbing between my ribs, the explosion of pain in my head, or the fact that Drake is not really Drake anymore. When I open my eyes, I’m staring down the barrel of Drake’s gun. I can’t believe it. My own brother is going to kill me.
He pulls the trigger and I squeeze my eyes just before the POW rings in my ears. I hear a wet thunk and something crashes in the dried leaves in front of me. He missed! I open my eyes to find a limp body lying at my feet. Drake looks down at him, not even a hint of emotion in his eyes and turns to continue his rampage against the people of Ceborec. When I realize what just happened I freeze in horror. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. Please tell me this is a terrible nightmare. Wake up, Pollen! I shut my eyes tightly and cover my ears. But when I open them, I’m still here. And Glenn is still lying on the ground before me, blood draining from his chest. He took the bullet for me.
Chapter 27
“Glenn!”
Glenn’s body is slumped sideways over the bumpy roots emerging from the tree behind me. I huddle over him and turn him face up. He’s still alive. The bullet entered his chest, very close to his heart. But he is still lucid and breathing. There’s still a chance to save him.
“Hey, Polly,” Glenn says between shallow breaths. I take his hand and hold it between both of mine. “Told you your family hated me.”
“You’re going to be okay, Glenn. I’ll find Timber! We’ll get you back to the clinic.” Tears have spider-webbed across my face and down my neck. I try to get up, but he won’t let go of my hand.
“Stay with me Polly.” His voice is calm, but full of repressed pain. He draws my hand to his lips and gently kisses my fingers. “I’ve always loved you. Remember that.”
“Glenn, don’t talk like that. Let me get Timber. Please.”
“No.” He takes a staggered breath. “It’s too late, Polly. It’s okay. I can die happy knowing that I did it for you.”
“Stop it and let me go! We still have time!”
“No time will be enough Polly.” There it is. He did this on purpose. He doesn’t want to survive. My heart breaks for him, for what I drove him to. My vision blurs behind the tears masking my eyes.
“Please do one thing for me.”
I can’t find the words, but I nod to appease him.
“Don’t cry for me. I want you to be happy. Go and be happy with Marcus. And be the mother you were meant to be.” Glenn coughs violently. Blood sprays from his mouth like fireworks. I can’t bear to watch the way his face wrinkles in agony.
“Glenn, please don’t go,” I whimper. He’s worse off than I initially thought. He really doesn’t have time.
“I’ll say hi to Lex for you.” He tries to say something else, but a gurgling noise washes it out. I squeeze his hand tighter. Stay with me Glenn. Please don’t leave me.
I gaze into his eye one last time and I see the love he truly had for me. I’ve completely forgotten the sins he committed against Marcus and me at Crimson. I’ve forgotten the mistakes we made together when we were drunk and incoherent. I’ve even forgotten all the stupid pranks he used to pull when we were younger. The Glenn that lies dying before me is the one who gave his life for me. The one who betrayed his friends to help us escape Crimson. The one who carried me to safety when I was injured and on death’s doorstep. The one who assured Marcus that he was truly the man I belonged with.
As he takes one final gasp for breath I clutch his weakened hand and say goodbye. His body stills. A vacancy seems to fill him as his soul escapes. I can’t believe he’s gone. Even more, I can’t believe it was at the hands of my own brother. The boy I grew up with, playing tag in the backyard and building forts in the woods. I have to find him. And I have to stop him. Now. Before it’s too late.
With a pain I can’t describe I loosen my grip on Glenn’s heavy hand and place it gently over his chest, over the bullet wound. I peel his eye patch off and wrap it around my wrist several times—a memento to remember him by. Then I lower my trem
bling lips to his and kiss him one last time, tasting the metallic blood that coats his broad lips, still warm. Tears cloud my vision, but I let them fall as I use his chest as a pillow, drawing that last bit of warmth from him before his body goes cold. I need to let them out. I’ve been holding them in for much too long. I wipe away the excess tears with his eye patch as I peel myself away from Glenn’s empty shell.
Picking my gun up off the ground, I step over Glenn and scan the area. Ceborec soldiers and Enforcers are everywhere. Every now and then I hear another bomb detonate. But it’s all background noise to me now. I have to find Drake.
I weave through the trees, keeping a careful eye out for myself. Glenn is dead. Drake has betrayed us. And Marcus is nowhere to be found. I’m on my own now, nobody left to protect me.
Somebody shoves me from behind, propelling me forward, but I catch myself before I topple over. I turn back, point my gun directly in the face of the Ceborec soldier who’d been knocked into me. I pull my left fist back and thrust it forward into his temple. As he falls, I raise the gun at the Enforcer standing behind him and pull the trigger. I’d like to say it felt good. But it didn’t.
I continue on, avoiding stray bullets like there’s some magical force field surrounding me. I don’t think I’d care either way if I did get shot. I’m so ready for this to be over.
Like a trail of breadcrumbs, I follow the trail of dead Ceborec soldiers, littered all over the ground. As I step over them I try not to look at their faces, for fear that I might find Marcus among them. Up ahead I spot Drake proceeding with his shooting rampage. Further ahead I catch a glimpse of Marcus’s auburn hair, which had grown out a few inches since he cut it a few months ago. I breathe a sigh of relief seeing that he is still alive. But this is far from over.
As I close in it’s almost like I’m watching a slow motion replay and I can’t believe my own eyes. Timber dashes over to Drake and clings to him from behind, whispering into his ear. He flips her onto the ground like she’s a bag of dirty laundry. Points his gun and fires. She rolls over, but she doesn’t get up. She’s been hit. I can’t wait any longer. I have to do something. But I can’t kill my own brother.
I raise my gun with both hands, carefully aiming for his thigh. Maybe if I can’t talk him out of shooting, I can at least immobilize him until we can get him help. I fire.
Drake collapses to his knee, but after shaking it off he stands back up, leaning his weight on the other leg. He shoots again.
I jog closer. Now I aim for his arm. I fire again, hitting his left bicep. He stumbles but remains upright. He reminds me of one of those dreadful movie monsters that keeps getting up no matter how many times it’s been shot or hacked to pieces.
Oh no. No, no, no. He lifts his right arm, which now holds the gun while his left arm dangles limply at his side. I trace an invisible path from the gun to its target. He’s aiming for Marcus.
Marcus is none the wiser. His back is turned to Drake, shooting some far off Enforcer. He has no idea what is about to happen.
“No!” I scream, hoping to get Drake’s attention. When he doesn’t budge I do the only thing I have left in my power to do. This time I aim for his head. Close my eyes. Pull the trigger.
Chapter 28
(Marcus)
Her screams awaken me again. Five nights in a row now. The nightmares have grown worse, and understandably so. The pillow we share is drenched in sweat and tears. I’ll have to wash the salt stains from the pillowcase again today. Her hair is plastered to the sides of her face and down her neck. Her screams curdle my blood every night I hear them, in spite of knowing she’s perfectly safe.
We’ve been given a private room, away from the soldiers’ bunkers, as a result of her nightmares. It’s not really a room, but more of a private space—a supply closet in the corridor just outside the atrium. Barely enough room for the single cot we both share. We lost a lot of soldiers in the attack, both to death and the medical clinic, but not enough to warrant giving us our own private bunker. So the supplies were relocated and we were left with a meager cubby stocked with empty shelves. But I’m grateful that we’re together again.
“Wake up, baby. I’m here,” I whisper into Pollen’s ear, as I stroke her arm with one hand and her hair with the other. Her triceps are hard as a marble sculpture. Every muscle in her body is stiff and rigid, and her body trembles with spasms from the tension confined within them. Soon she begins to relax.
I worry about her. She hasn’t eaten so much as a crumb in the last five days. Not since they died. She blames herself, of course. Why can’t she see that it’s not her fault? Her cheeks are beginning to look hollow and the bones below her neck are starting to protrude.
“Marcus?” Pollen whimpers, but she doesn’t open her eyes. The thick tears keep her eyelids glued together. She seems to be searching for me, even though I’m as close to her as I could possibly get.
“I’m here.” I crush her body to me and she buries her head in my chest, quickly falling back to sleep. She tells me she sees Drake, Glenn, and Respa in her nightmares now. I don’t know how to comfort her. I can’t even fathom the anguish that consumes her. No one should have to experience that much death so soon.
When I found her during the battle it was her screams I heard first. I thought she’d been injured. Then I saw Drake. I rushed to her side, knelt on the ground beside her and held her the best I could. She was hysterical, rocking her body back and forth, and the screaming when on for hours. I had no idea what had happened to Drake and Glenn. Even if she had stopped screaming, she was still in no state to speak coherently.
I held off all attackers as Pollen wept into my shoulder. Eventually the fighting ended close to sunset, but Pollen would not leave. Medics and surviving soldiers carried the fallen and injured back to Ceborec. When they tried to take Drake, Pollen threw herself on him, and refused to get up. It took me and two other guys to peel her off.
I was going to carry her back to the bunker myself. But I thought it’d be best just to stay put. She didn’t need to be around the others. She just needed me, and time to mourn. We slept in the woods that night, like our first night when we found each other after we escaped Crimson, only this time we were curled in each other’s arms, unwilling to let each other go. Pollen eventually stopped crying and fell asleep. She woke up shrieking shortly after. It happened three times that night. The last time, she forced herself to stay awake.
As the sun rose, she’d found her words again and told me what had happened to Glenn. Through a veil of tears she confessed to killing her own brother to save my life. My only response was to hold her tighter. No words could have given her any more comfort. I carried her back to Ceborec that morning. Though it felt good to hold her again, I wish it hadn’t happened that way.
***
I wake up and immediately I feel empty and alone. Pollen is gone. I relax. I know where she is.
Outside our little closet, in the caliginous corridor lit with lamps connected to tangles of extension cords stretching down the base of each wall, nurses and their teenage assistants attend to injured soldiers in their cots. My toe catches on one of the tangled extension cord ropes as I step out of the closet, but I manage to catch myself before falling between the cots placed on either side of the door.
The medical clinic is still busy with patients, although most of the injuries had been taken care of and soldiers sent back to their own bunkers or the corridor to finish recovering. The few with more serious injuries have taken up all the exam rooms and now the doctors are seeing patients with minor ailments behind a curtain in the small waiting area. When they planned this new bunker, they made plenty of space for residential living, but should have allocated more space for the clinic. Lesson learned.
I pass through the crowded waiting area, through the short corridor and into the tiny NICU. There’s a comatose soldier lying on a cot just beyond the incubator. Graham, I think. He was on my squad. A long, stitched gash stretches from his forehead straight down ov
er his eye to the middle of his cheek. His broken arm, stabilized with a splint and wrapped thickly with gauze, lies across his chest, rising and falling with each artificial breath, provided by a ventilator. Tubes and wires connect his body to a plethora of other machines.
Pollen leans over the incubator, her hand inserted into the hole in the side and resting on the child’s stomach. Wrapped around her palm is Glenn’s eye patch. She hasn’t taken it off since he died. She even showers with it.
Pollen startles when I place my hand on her shoulder, as she does every morning when I meet her here. It hurts to know why she comes here so often now, but I think it’s necessary for her to heal, so I don’t object. She believes the child is Glenn’s, and the boy is her final link to him.
“Hey,” she whispers.
“Hey.”
“Dr. Yipolis says he can run the DNA test now if we want.” Her voice is calm and quiet, with no emotion whatsoever. It seems like she is one extreme or the other these past few days. Either hysterical or unfeeling.
“Do you want to?”
Pollen exhales softly and leans her back into my chest. Her head falls into my neck.
“Does it really matter?”
As much as I want this child to be mine, as much as I hated Glenn, I’ve come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter. I remember the love I felt for Evie and she wasn’t mine. Why should this be any different? I want to be a father. This boy needs a father. There’s no doubt in my mind.
“No. It doesn’t.” I cross my arms in front of Pollen and hold her against me. “We don’t need a test. I’m his father now.”
“You always were.” Pollen turns to me. The veins in her eyes give the whites a pinkish hue, making the green of her irises stand out like a gleaming emerald in a sea of cotton candy. Her eyelids and nose are red and raw. And yet she’s still the most beautiful girl I’ve laid eyes on.
“I always wanted it to be you. Even if Glenn was his, biologically. Glenn was never cut out for parenthood. You were meant to be his father.”
The Trinity Page 17
