Secrets of PEACE

by T. A. Hernandez

  “This is act of treason against the PEACE Project. Cease and desist immediately. Return to your homes. I repeat, cease and desist. This is your final warning.”

  The protesters yelled back at him, louder and more enraged than before. A few of them moved towards him. The officer threw down his megaphone and reached to his waist. Zira ducked on instinct.

  He fired a single shot into the air, and that was all it took to unleash complete anarchy. The crowd scattered. The other officers, hearing the sound and seeing all those people run towards them, began to fire indiscriminately. A young man to Zira’s right collapsed, clutching his knee and howling in pain.

  She bolted into the mob, calling out with every ounce of breath in her lungs. “Mei! Mei!” Other people’s screams stifled her own.

  A gunshot sounded from somewhere just a few feet behind her. Zira ducked again. She passed a weeping young woman with blood on her shirt but couldn’t stop to help. Seconds later, she spotted a dirty blue coat and a head of gray hair lying in a heap at the side of the road. “Mei!” She sprinted forward. Please be alive.

  Zira skidded to a stop and knelt down beside Mei as more people thundered past them. The old woman’s face was badly bruised. An alarming amount of blood dripped from her mouth onto the pavement. Zira looked for a gunshot wound, but there didn’t appear to be one.

  Her hands trembled as she lifted Mei’s head into her own lap. Mei moaned, and the color left her face. “I’m sorry,” Zira said. “I should have been right here with you. I’m so sorry.” She took a breath, trying to stop the panic that crept up from her core and threatened to overwhelm her. They needed an ambulance.

  She heard the low growl of an engine behind her and leapt to her feet. The unit P officer on the silver motorcycle rode towards them, weaving his way around the people still trying to get away from all of this. He clutched his pistol along one of the bike’s hand grips. The weapon was pointed in her direction, though whether that was intentional or not, Zira couldn’t tell. Maybe he was here to help. Maybe not. She didn’t care. This was the man who had set everything in motion. He was responsible for Mei’s injuries. He was responsible for anyone else who might have been hurt in the ensuing pandemonium. She wondered how many would have to be hospitalized, how many would be dead when it was all over.

  The officer slowed as he neared them. Zira grabbed him by the leg and yanked him from the bike. It toppled sideways and skidded to a stop several yards away. She ripped the gun from the man’s hand before he could stand and aimed it at him. His eyes widened as he took a step back, hands raised.

  Zira pulled the trigger twice. The man staggered back as the bullets hit his chest.

  “Zira,” a faint voice said. She looked back at Mei and saw a pained look in the woman’s dark eyes, a pain that hadn’t just come from her injuries. Zira threw the gun away with a snarl, horrified by her own actions. She had shot a man out of pure anger and malice. He would live, protected by the bulletproof vest over his uniform, but Zira hadn’t been thinking of that when she shot him. She’d only wanted to hurt him—to kill him.

  There was no time to dwell on it now. Zira scooped Mei up in her arms. She was only slightly smaller and lighter than Zira, but with so much adrenaline coursing through her veins, the old woman felt weightless. She cradled Mei’s head against her shoulder and began running. “Hold on,” she said. “Just hold on.”

  An ambulance wailed somewhere ahead, and Zira hurried towards the sound. By some miracle, one of the paramedics inside saw her and stopped the vehicle. Another burst out the back doors, grabbing the gurney and running to meet them. He took Mei from Zira’s arms and laid her on the stretcher.

  Mei’s eyes were glazed and empty. One of the paramedics felt her wrist for a pulse. It took too long. Zira knew what that meant even before the other tried at her neck, before they looked at each other and shook their heads.

  One of them lifted the body off the gurney. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning to pass Mei back to Zira. “We have to help the others.”

  Zira took the limp figure. The paramedic tried to put a hand on her arm, but she backed away. She watched the ambulance drive off in a daze, then lowered herself to the curb. Her entire body heaved, but she was too breathless and exhausted for tears as she held the old woman against her chest and tried to ignore the wails of people and sirens all around her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Jared shrugged on a thick white jacket and walked outside, shoving his hands in his pockets as smoky breaths puffed from his mouth. The morning was still gray and cold, but Ryku had insisted on meeting right away. He’d probably made the chairman wait longer than he should have already, something that might have conflicted with his perfectionist-level dedication to his job before, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. Few things did.

  Since Zira’s disappearance, Jared had done everything he could to put her ghost behind him. A part of him still hated Ryku for not letting him try to find her, but he understood it. In time, he might even come to be grateful to Ryku for preventing him from doing something reckless. He knew the chairman would have sent someone after Zira if he thought it was a viable option; after all, he’d gone to the RA himself to rescue Jared. But Zira was gone, and Ryku had known that when Jared was still too shaken up to face the truth.

  Numbness had replaced the raw emotion of it now. Throwing himself into his work helped Jared cope, but it had paid off in other ways, too. Many of his recent assignments had involved tracking down and eliminating known members of the Red Flag Brotherhood, greatly reducing their ability to pose any direct threat to America or its citizens. His efforts had earned him a significant amount of influence and respect with the chairman, and most people in the compound believed he’d become Ryku’s most likely successor. There had always been speculation, but now it seemed certain that Jared would be chairman someday. It was something he’d aspired to since he was first placed in unit E-2, something he knew he should be happy about. Instead, there was just a hollow apathy.

  He knocked on the chairman’s office door twice, then entered without waiting for an invitation. Ryku was, as usual, seated behind his desk. He glanced pointedly at his watch. Jared made no apology. A shadow of a smile tugged at Ryku’s mouth, and he gestured for Jared to sit down. “I have a job for you.”

  Jared sighed. He had only returned from his last assignment the previous morning and had been hoping for a couple days off. A stupid thing to hope for; having free time meant his mind wandered more than usual, and these days, the places it took him were usually unpleasant. Another assignment might be a good idea after all. “What is it?”

  “I’m sending you to the North Pacific Region. You heard about the riots in Grayridge last week, I assume?”

  “Yes,” Jared said. He tried to keep his face impassive at the mention of the place where Zira had disappeared.

  Died, he corrected himself. The place where Zira had died. He had to force the word, even in his own thoughts.

  “I have something you should see.” Ryku raised his arm and tapped a few buttons on his CyberLink. A projection popped up, and Ryku extended his arm to give Jared a better view. “Unit P just finished going through all the footage they captured during the riots. Chairman Collin passed this little clip along to me last night. It might interest you. Take a look.”

  He played the video. There was no audio, and even if there had been, Jared doubted they would have been able to hear anything distinguishable over the shouts of such an incensed crowd. “This was taken from the camera on a police motorcycle,” Ryku explained. “One of the unit P officers was riding it. See here—a few people in the mob try to attack him. Now he’s fired a shot.”

  The crowd lost whatever semi-organized control they might have possessed. People scattered in all directions. Jared caught a few glimpses of other officers firing their weapons and shook his head at the madness of it all.

  Ryku skipped forward a couple of minutes. The officer on the motorcycle weaved through the crow
d so haphazardly that it was impossible to distinguish one blur from another. Finally, he focused on something, making his way towards a small figure bent over another individual on the ground. The bent figure stood, turned around, and lunged to pull the officer from the motorcycle. The picture spun sideways as the bike toppled and hit the pavement. Then the video cut to black.

  At first, Jared didn’t know whether he dared believe what he’d seen before the recording cut out. It had to be a trick of his mind, brought on by memories and the mention of the place Zira had last been seen. A muscle in his face twitched as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Play it again.”

  Ryku obliged, this time playing back only the last few seconds of the video at half-speed. Jared squinted as he studied the few frames where a familiar face flickered into view. The images were blurry, and he looked to Ryku for confirmation. For hope.

  The chairman nodded. “It’s her,” he said. “I had the people in unit A run it through the best facial recognition programs they have. Zira’s alive.”

  Jared ran a hand over his face and leaned back. “I’m going to get her,” he said.

  “I know. That’s exactly why I asked you here.”

  “Is she still in Grayridge?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I haven’t assigned anyone to look into it further.”

  Jared frowned. It seemed to him that assigning an informant to look into this—if only to confirm Zira’s location—was the first thing Ryku should have done. “Why not?”

  “You need to understand, Jared—we don’t know what we’re dealing with yet. This is a delicate situation. I don’t want to get more people involved than I need to.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Zira has been gone for three months. In this video, she appears to be alive and well. So why didn’t she come back?”

  Jared caught the accusation in Ryku’s question and didn’t like where the conversation was headed. “I don’t know, but I’m sure she has an explanation.”

  “Maybe. I hope so. Still, we have to consider the possibility that she deserted the Project.”

  “No. Zira would never do that. She didn’t come back because she couldn’t come back. For all we know, she could still be in trouble. I’m going to get her.” He stood up and turned to the door.

  “Listen, Jared. You need to think about this. Be rational.”

  He spun around to face the chairman. “You said she was dead. You wouldn’t even send anyone to look for her. You abandoned her, and I never should have listened to you. I’m going to get her. Now. Send the rest of the information you have on this to my CL.”

  He turned his back and stormed out of Ryku’s office without waiting for a response.

  * * *

  Jared wasn’t able to catch a flight to Anchorage until the next morning and arrived late that afternoon. The airport was a flurry of activity and noise, but even among all the tumult, Jared found it impossible to blend in. He attracted several curious stares as he made his way through the building. One woman clutched her purse and gave him a nasty look as he passed by. He was glad to get outside and find a secluded area to go over the information Ryku had forwarded.

  The most promising lead he had on Zira’s current location was the old woman she’d been trying to help in the video recording. Another video from unit P had caught them walking up the street together a few minutes before the first shots were fired. It seemed reasonable to assume that they knew each other fairly well. Jared had asked Ryku to find out more about the woman. He’d done so without protest, perhaps correctly concluding that it was pointless to try to talk to Jared about all this until he knew where Zira was. Jared sifted through those files on his CL now.

  The woman’s name was Mei Yamada-Hunt. She’d come to America from Japan—now part of the RA—to study medicine before the war and had married a fellow university student, Kirk Hunt. After that, the couple had moved to the North Pacific Region to take over Kirk’s family’s farm. Kirk was killed in some altercation with Project authorities, leaving Mei a widow. Her son was still doing time on a twenty-five-year sentence at a labor camp, and she’d been one of eight fatalities in the Grayridge riot. Aside from all that, there was nothing out of the ordinary about her.

  Jared memorized the address of the home registered to Mei and shut down the CyberLink projection. He needed to go to Grayridge. He’d check Mei’s house for leads first, then ask around to see if any of the locals could give him more information. Small town folks were good at keeping track of things outside the normal routine. Zira might not be in town anymore, but if she and Mei had spent any amount of time together—for whatever reason—the people in Grayridge would know about it. They might have some idea of where she went.

  Jared took a bus to a car rental center and set out for Grayridge in a nondescript white sedan. Mei’s house was one of two lone structures on a street at the outskirts of town, surrounded by open fields and untouched snow drifts. The car stopped in front of the house and Jared shut off the engine. The blinds were drawn, and there were no signs of activity within. He approached the door with caution and tried the knob. It wasn’t locked, so he let himself in.

  The house looked exactly as it must have when Mei left home the day of the riots. A kettle sat on the stove and a few dirty dishes lay in the sink. He walked through the living room and passed a muted hologram projector tuned to a news station, as if Mei had simply forgotten to turn it off that morning. A few pictures hung on the walls, but other than that, the house had little decoration. Jared continued down the hallway and entered a tidy little bedroom. He opened a dresser drawer, unsure of what he was looking for but determined to find it anyway.

  The dresser yielded nothing of interest, nor did the cabinet in the closet where Mei kept an impressive stash of medical supplies. Jared was about to move on to the next room when he heard a soft click from the hallway—the sound of the front door being opened.

  He swore under his breath and hurried to the window for an escape. It was too late to prevent someone from seeing the car parked out front, but if he could get outside, he could at least make some excuse about trying to find Mei out back. The window was stuck, and the footsteps in the hallway drew closer. Jared gave it one last, mighty shove, and it squeaked open on old tracks.

  The door behind him burst open, and Jared whirled around to see a gun aimed at his chest. Zira stood behind the weapon. Her eyes were wide and her mouth opened a few times before she managed to find his name. “Jared?”

  She wore ill-fitting clothes meant for someone at least three times her age, but she was still as beautiful as he remembered. In just a few steps, he crossed the distance between them and pulled her into a tight embrace. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in the scent of warm earth and citrus and a hundred happy memories. It was only with her there in his arms that he was convinced all of this was real.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, setting the gun on the dresser beside her.

  He couldn’t help laughing. “What? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

  “Of course, but—” She pulled back, looking up at him.

  Something in her eyes worried him—something wild and afraid, like a wolf trapped in a corner. “What’s wrong?” he said.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here to bring you home.”

  Zira shook her head. “I can’t. I’m not ready yet.”

  “Not ready?” Jared said, trying to keep his voice gentle. “We thought you were dead.”

  “I know.”

  “We buried you. You know how much that hurt us? Me? Aubreigh? She hasn’t been the same since.” Neither had he.

  “I know,” Zira said quietly. She stared down at her feet.

  “Come here,” Jared said, taking her hand. “Just talk to me. Tell me what happened.”

  Zira nodded and led him out to the kitchen. They sat down at the table and, without explanation, Zira reached down and pulled up the right leg of her pants. When Jared s
aw what was underneath, he began to understand why she’d been unable to return to the compound right away.

  The leg was gone, amputated below the knee and replaced by a battered prosthesis. “I can’t go back like this,” Zira said. “I couldn’t even walk at first. I still can’t do everything I used to.” She bit her lip and looked away. “I’m useless like this.”

  “Stop.” The thought of everything she must have gone through to end up in such a state broke his heart, but the courage it must have taken for her to get back on her feet filled him with affection. He hated to hear her talk as if there was no hope. “You’re perfect. Losing one leg doesn’t change that.”

  Zira gave him a tight smile. “I doubt Chairman Ryku will see it that way.”

  “I’ll talk to him. He’ll understand.”

  “Maybe. I guess I don’t really have much choice anymore.” Her eyes shifted back to the floor. “I was going to go back. I always knew I couldn’t stay here forever. But I wanted to do it on my own terms, when I was stronger. I didn’t want Ryku to look at me and decide I wasn’t worth fixing.”

  Jared reached across the table and put his hand over hers. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Why didn’t you just come home right when it happened? Maybe they could have saved your leg.”

  Zira shook her head. She backed up to the day she’d left the compound for her assignment and told him everything from the beginning. There had been more radicals in the lodge than there were in her mission file, an oversight that made Jared want to strangle Chairman Ryku all over again. It had all gone downhill from there, and by the time the radicals moved on and released her from captivity, Zira felt too vulnerable to return to the compound. In the time she’d spent with Mei, the two of them had grown close. Zira fought back tears when she told Jared about how the old woman had died. “Her funeral was yesterday,” Zira said. “I meant to leave right after, but I didn’t know where to go. I thought about calling you.”