The Blood Pawn

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The Blood Pawn Page 21

by Nicole Tillman


  But it doesn't.

  I cling to him... but nothing happens.

  Ten seconds.

  Twenty.

  Thirty.

  Still nothing.

  “See?” His breath ruffles the hair above my ear, and I melt against him.

  When my knees buckle, he holds me close, stroking my hair as I shudder. He kisses my cold temple even as two black trails make their way down my face. As if this is a perfectly normal thing to happen, he wipes the moisture away with his thumbs.

  In his arms, I almost feel human.

  He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and caresses my cheek. I lean into him, and it's as natural as breathing. For the living, at least.

  “Oh, before I forget...” he trails off as he searches his pockets.

  When he steps back and places something in my hand, I almost don't recognize it. Then I flip it over and read the words.

  'In your arms, I find my everything.'

  My mother's pendant. I'd completely forgotten about it.

  “Where did you find this?”

  He moves behind me and brushes my hair away from my neck. When it's clasped, his hands move to my shoulders.

  “Sitting in your locker. I also found this.”

  He pulls the photograph of my family from his pocket and flattens it out before handing it over.

  I look down at my mother and father's smiling faces. My stomach turns at the thought of ever returning to them the way that I am, but I don't know why. They're the most accepting people I know, and I'm their daughter. In their eyes, love doesn't see race, religion, gender, or creed. Maybe it won't see heartbeats either.

  “I've gotta get you out of this room,” Cain says, taking my hand. “You'll feel better if you walk around a bit.”

  He tugs my hand, but I don't budge.

  “C'mon, Winters. This is nonnegotiable. There's something you need to see. Either come willingly or I'll throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry you there.”

  I'd call his bluff if I knew he was bluffing, but I know Cain well enough to know he's not. He's just looking for an excuse to manhandle me.

  “Can we come right back?”

  His eyes soften as he laces his fingers together with mine. “Of course. If you want to come back, we can. Promise.”

  Holding him to that, I follow him out the door, through the hall, and down the stairs. Fresh air blows over my skin and I feel as if pieces of me are floating away, breaking off to reveal something new and fresh underneath.

  But there's nothing fresh beneath my skin. Only mush and rot.

  Cain doesn't stop walking, nor does he speak a word, until we reach a door labeled MEDIA ROOM. I've never been in this wing of the base, but my curiosity is definitely piqued.

  Cain doesn't say a word as he enters a code and waves me inside.

  The room is dark, and it takes more than a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. When they do, I see the massive video screen, rows of chairs filled with guards and my teammates, and our president standing in the middle of it all with his back to me.

  “Mr. President?” Cain approaches Decker.

  When he turns, his face lights with a smile, and he completely bypasses Cain to get to me.

  “Thanks for coming, Maya.” He shakes my hand, a little too roughly, and I stare in disbelief. I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I already want to leave. “I couldn't do this without you. Follow me.”

  My feet want to stay rooted in place, so it's a struggle to make my way after him, but Cain holds my hand the entire time.

  “It's okay,” he whispers. “You'll see.”

  Martina rushes to my side and I help as she grabs my arm.

  “Maya Winters, what have you done?” she whispers.

  “I –”

  “Your hair looks horrible.” She already has her hands in my hair, combing through it with her fingers. Too shocked and confused to do anything else, I let her. “You can't do this with bed head. What were you thinking?”

  Good question. Wait... what am I doing?

  Within a few seconds, she has my hair pulled up into a slick bun on top of my head. I give her a silent kudos when she wads up some strands that fell out and tosses them in the trash without so much as a grimace.

  “Turn around and lift your arms.”

  Now she has my full attention.

  “Sorry, what?”

  Her impatience is clear when she forces me to turn my back to the crowd and pulls my shirt over my head.

  “Hey!”

  Before I can ever get another word out, she pulls a new, fresh shirt over my head, and I automatically slide my hands through the armholes.

  “Tuck it in,” she orders. “Hurry.”

  I do as she says, and when my belt is in place again, I look up at her, awaiting further instruction.

  “Okay.” She looks me straight on, examining my face with a faint smile. “Not bad. You're beautiful. Congratulations!”

  She kisses me on the cheek, shocking me once again, and then she's gone.

  I turn to Cain, more confused than ever.

  “Congratulations on what?”

  He grins. “For being named the new head of Decker's security detail.”

  “What?” I screech.

  There has to be a mistake. Not me. I'm not suited for a job of that caliber.

  “Mr. President, we're about to go live,” a voice booms over the loudspeaker. “Winters and Holebrook, get into position.”

  Cain takes my arm. “That's our cue.”

  I'm so confused. Cue for what? I don't know what's happening!

  The entire world spins around me and I think I'm about to hurl. There are too many people, too many voices, too many unanswered questions.

  “Relax.” Cain leads me down until I'm directly behind the arm of the Decker's chair. He stands on the other side, the two of us flanking the President of the United States.

  “Just stand there and be beautiful,” Cain says.

  For once, I feel like I might piss myself.

  “Okay, everyone. In three... two... one...”

  The screen lights up and Decker's face fills the frame. Behind him, I see me and Cain.

  Cain looks regal, professional. I look... well, dead. My face isn't just gray. It's white. My lips only have a faint mauve color to them, and my eyes have lost most of their color. Luckily, the sores are barely visible and my uniform fits me tightly enough I look put-together.

  Decker clasps his hands together on the table and leans forward. I don't know why, but the gesture draws me in, and I drown out everything else. I focus solely on my commander-in-chief, on his words, and on the message he's delivering.

  “I know these last couple years have been trying,” he says. His voice echoes back to us through small laptop speakers stationed around the room. “I know you've lost everything – your homes, your families, your jobs, your hope.”

  He pauses and hangs his head. I want to lay a comforting hand on his shoulder but curl my hands into fists instead.

  “I've lost things as well. However, I'm here today to assure you that, for the first time since this disaster was born, we have a plan.”

  A plan? Who's 'we'? What plan?

  “Here's what I need you to do. Every citizen tuning in tonight, this is your task.”

  I lean in, almost subconsciously, waiting for him to disclose this 'plan'.

  “Stay where you are.” He stares into the camera as if he's just uttered something extremely profound. “Stay safe, stay hidden, stay strong. That is your job right now. I know it may seem bleak and it may be harder to do than I could ever imagine, but if you can do your job, that means I can do mine.”

  Decker pushes a button on the computer next to him and the giant screen splits off into nine blocks, each filled with a different person with Decker taking up the center.

  “These are your world leaders.” He gestures to the surrounding blocks. “They are the talented and intelligent individuals that will
be coming together in an effort to preserve our planet from this disease. We are facing this threat together. Not as separate countries, but as allies.”

  Allies? This is amazing. When did this happen?

  “We're coming together in hopes that, one day in the future, we can all walk out of our homes and stand firm in the faith that we are safe. Now, I know this is a dream of yours because I've had that same dream.” He leans back in his chair with a sigh.

  “Right now, I'm not just your president. I'm not the leader of a country or a politician. I am a human being, scared to death for the future of my planet. And the rest of these people on the screen? They hold that same fear in their hearts.

  “We have a common enemy; one that we will not allow to drag us down into extinction. So, for now, I need you to reach down deep, find that hope you've cast to the shadows, and hold it close. Because you'll need it in the months to come.

  “What will happen to our streets, our farms, our neighborhoods – it won't be pretty. It won't be something we want to witness and definitely not something we'll want to remember. But when we emerge from hiding, we'll do so as free men and women. When that happens, it won't matter how much destruction we have to wade through to get back to the lives we love. We'll band together as one.”

  If I had a working heart, it would be racing with every word Decker speaks. I can't imagine what everyone else is feeling right now, but I'm elated.

  “When this is nothing but a distant, terrifying memory, we'll move on, we'll rebuild, and as long as our alliances stand, there will be peace. Battles will still rage, I'm sure – we're human, after all – but war on any soil, foreign or domestic, will be something no world leader will tolerate.”

  Decker wipes a hand down his face.

  “I need your bravery, your loyalty, and your trust right now. If you can give me that much, I'll hold up my end as well.”

  He has my loyalty. To the very end. My trust too.

  Bravery?

  I'll work on it.

  “Hold onto hope, ladies and gentlemen. Hope will see us through.”

  His hand slides across the desk and he pushes one last button to end the broadcast. The screen goes dark.

  Wow.

  Just... wow.

  Decker turns in his seat and I take a step back so he can pass. When he does, he holds out his hand.

  The President is asking to shake my hand...

  I press my cold hand into his and squeeze as firmly as I can, but when I move to pull away, he doesn't let me.

  “Did you catch all that?” he asks, motioning to the monitor with his free hand.

  I nod. “Of course, sir.”

  He smiles, and it's been so long since I've seen him it that it looks odd.

  “You did that, Winters,” he says proudly. “This is your win.”

  My win?

  He's crediting me?

  My mouth hangs open wide as Decker clamps me on the shoulder before moving past me. I turn and watch him leave, wondering when I'm going to wake up.

  This can't be real.

  A plan? A win? A job?

  How long was I in containment?

  When I turn back around, Cain's grinning from ear to ear.

  “Glad you came down for that?”

  My head bobs up and down frantically. “Yes, I can't believe I almost missed that.”

  “You wouldn't have. I was prepared to drag you all the way here.”

  I laugh, and it feels good. So good. Like my insides stretching after being cooped up for too long.

  “Are you okay?” Cain asks.

  Something prompts me to tell the truth. The whole truth. The truth I've hidden away, even from myself.

  “Yeah, I am. Even if I'm not around to see it, I know everything is going to be okay.”

  His expression never falters, even though my own throat is constricting with the thought that one day, maybe soon, I might not exist.

  “And that's enough for you?” he asks.

  Enough? It's more than enough.

  It's everything.

  “Of course it is.”

  Cain's shakes his head, but I can't understand why. He should be happy!

  “What? What's the problem?”

  He rakes a hand through his hair. It's longer now, almost shaggy.

  “It's not enough for me.”

  He may as well have slapped me across the face. How could that not be enough? Decker just basically said that our world, our families, our friends, would all have a future.

  “What do you mean it's not enough?”

  “I mean I don't just want peace,” he says firmly.

  “What else is there? Peace is all that matters today. It's all that will matter tomorrow. And the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that. The only thing we should be working toward is putting a stop to the killing and an end to the infection. That's it! What more could you possibly want?”

  I heave breath after breath into my dead lungs, and it feels good. My ire makes me feel alive.

  “More.”

  He doesn't blink. Doesn't move a muscle.

  “What is there that-”

  “I want a cure, Maya!”

  I take a step back and suddenly, I remember...

  I remember standing on a cobblestone street in the middle of Paris. I remember his lips pressing against mine. I remember how light I felt. How free. Then I remember the moment it ended. The reality of what I could have done settled deep in my gut like wet concrete.

  He could be infected.

  He could need a cure.

  For all we know, there could be a dormant virus inside of him now.

  Yes. I want a cure too.

  “I should have never let you kiss me,” I whisper, touching two fingers to my lips.

  Cain's face falls, making me feel even more guilty than I already do.

  “Maya... I think you misunderstood what I was saying.”

  “No.” I shake my head and somehow nod at the same time. “I understand completely. We were stupid and reckless and now, you're at risk. I put you at risk. This is all–”

  “Hey!” He grabs my shoulders and shakes. “That isn't what I'm saying at all!”

  Eyes wide, I stare at him. He looks so lost, so angry. Did I do that? Did I make him that way?

  “Then what are you saying, Cain?”

  He takes a deep breath, exhales, and presses his forehead to mine. Just from that one touch, his heat wraps all the way around my body, enfolding me in his ever-present energy.

  “Somewhere out there, there's a promise of the future I want. Decker said to hold onto hope, so that's what I'm doing because I want that future, I want that life. Because I want you. I want to keep you.”

  Me?

  He wants... me?

  The girl with pale eyes and decaying tissue?

  The girl kept animated by a mixture of magic and science?

  The girl who's killed, murdered, and will likely do so again?

  The girl with nothing, not even a beating heart?

  “It's out there, Maya.” His lips press against my cheek and I let my eyes flutter shut. “And we're going to find it.”

  We.

  Together.

  The two of us.

  I don't understand his unerring faith, but I want to. I want to believe in it and share it and let it push us forward. So when Cain pulls me into his arms, I embrace him right back, because I want to believe.

  Holding onto him, I feel something.

  A surge.

  Electric and warm.

  Comforting and liberating.

  It's something I haven't felt in a long, long time. Something I didn't think I'd ever feel again.

  Hope.

  Now that training is over,

  the real work begins.

  Book Two

  Coming Summer 2017

  Acknowledgments

  First off, I need to give a huge, huge, HUGE thank you to author, artist, entrepreneur, comic book extraordin
aire, Chris Roll. Thank you for answering all my stupid questions relating to zombie lore, helping me in the beginning stages when I didn't know where to take Maya, and for putting up with all my hyphens that were supposed to be dashes. So glad you're my friend, Chris.

  *Sidenote: To you, the reader. If you ever find yourself in Mammoth Spring, Arkansas, head down Main Street and find Dragon's Gate Comics. Stop in, give Chris a 'hello', and shop your little nerdy heart out.

  Also, to my friend Ashley, just for putting up with me. From talking me down when I have a stupid idea that I think is brilliant, to letting me vent about all the first world problems in my life. You always listen, you always tell me what I need to hear (which isn't always what I WANT to hear), and you're one of the best friends a girl could ever ask for.

  To Linda – because I know that when this book comes out you'll pimp it all the way to Neptune and back. Thank you for helping me, for spreading the word, and for working your tail off for only a few measly paperbacks in return. You're a rock star.

  And, as always, to my husband. Thank you for supporting me in this ridiculous career of mine. I'm living my dream, and at the end of the day that's because of you. Because you believe in me. Thank you for loving me, for pushing me, and for not bitching when the sink is full and the kids are eating PB&Js because I'm behind on a deadline. Love you forever.

  -N

  About the Author

  In 2013, Nicole Tillman left her managerial position at a large internet company to stay at home with her two children, and she hasn't looked back since.

  Playing mom, maid, and nurse during the day is wildly fulfilling, but when the lights go out and everyone's in bed, her imaginary friends come out to play.

  Contact Nicole

  Facebook: facebook.com/authornicoletillman

  Twitter: twitter.com/AuthorNTillman

  Blog: nicoletillman.wordpress.com

  Email: [email protected]

 

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