by Toby Neal
I almost lost part of my foot, but Dr. Nani debrided the infected tissue. I shudder, remembering that agony. “I think it’s fine, Ana.”
“Can you do that later or somewhere else?” JT has appeared at the door and the other brothers cluster in, including Roan Winters, a tall Native American with striking gray eyes. I haven’t yet met him, but apparently, he’s in love with Lucy, and tried to go after her without backup. All of the men look pale, sweaty and shaken.
Something’s happened, and it isn’t good.
Ana will be upset, and that can’t help anything going on down here.
She’s bending over, fussing with my foot. Maybe I can help by getting her out of the room and keeping her distracted. “You’re right, it’s bothering me a bit right now. Ana, perhaps you can help me out in the living room?”
I pretend to need help with my crutches and JT shoots me a grateful glance as Ana fusses over me, assisting me out the door.
The door to the Command Center closes and Ana helps me down the hall to the big communal living room with its open kitchen on one side. Each couple has their own apartment and then there is a shared common area with couches, a big TV and a kitchen. Ana gets me over to the couch, lifting my leg up onto it and turning on one of the lamps. The room is so nicely appointed it’s easy to forget we’re deep underground in a bomb shelter.
I lived in one in Washington too; there I learned to like the muffled dense quality of sound underground, and the sense of security.
“Tell me about Lucy,” I say, as she begins to unwrap the bandages. “It’s incredible that you raised seven children virtually alone.”
“I had Paulie for the first fourteen years…until Luca was a teenager and Lucy was born.” She shakes her head sadly. “He was a hands-on father when he was home. But I won’t deny it was hard.” Her mouth tightens with old pain. “Lucy never knew her father…she is my baby.”
“I don’t know how you did it. I couldn’t get it right with one child, let alone seven. I almost lost Elizabeth over what happened in Washington.”
Ana looks up, and her changeable hazel eyes are warm. “That girl is a gem. I knew it the moment I met her. I couldn’t have been happier when I realized JT had fallen in love. He needed someone like her after his first marriage ended so tragically.”
“Elizabeth told me about that.” I’ve had some precious times with my daughter, down in her lab, where I’ve tried to make myself useful sorting test tubes and prepping medium for growing cells.
But I arrived in the middle of a crisis, and there’s been no time to really talk about what’s going on in Washington and where things are going for the country. Not that any of it matters, or ever did, in the scope of what happened with Scorch Flu.
My life is over, already, everything but the funeral. Everything but Elizabeth.
Only Lizzie doesn’t need me anymore. I do love seeing her happy with JT, though, even if I’m a little jealous of being on the outside of the circle they make.
Ana might understand.
“Ana, you’re the heart of this family. It must be so satisfying to see your children married and happy, even in this terrible time.”
She is gentle but firm in the way she handles my foot, dabbing at the inflamed flesh on the sole with a Q-tip soaked in antibiotic, not flinching from the suppurating wound. “It’s all I dreamed of.” She looks up at me. She has good bones, and lovely eyes. If I were another man I might have been attracted to her. “But sometimes I wonder what…I should be doing. Besides gardening and cooking.”
“That’s not enough?” I can only dream of being half as useful as Ana. She brings everyone together, nurtures and sustains them both with her food and her presence.
“Hey, John.” JT sticks his head into the living room. “Can you come in? We have some questions about the Great Nation America movement. And Ma, we ate all the zucchini bread and we’re out of coffee. Any chance we could get more? Pretty please?”
Ana meets my eyes and we both smile. “Sure,” we say at the same time.
JT comes and helps me into the Command Center as Ana hurries off. Maybe I do still have a purpose.
Once inside, JT parks me back on Dante’s chair. “Tell us everything you know about the Great Nation America.”
I clear my throat and set my crutch aside, looking at each face in turn. “This is classified information I’m sharing with you…but there’s no purpose in keeping state secrets any longer when there’s no functioning federal government to protect.” JT nods, encouraging me, and I go on. “An internal investigation conducted by the FBI and the Secret Service working together confirmed that Vice President Pigeon used his access to leak the Scorch Flu from its secure location in Virginia to the Great Nation America leader Tanner Hillish.”
Luca and Nani look at each other and Nani frowns. “I suspected he might be involved.”
“Yes. Pigeon was a part of a secret cabal that wanted to overturn the government and install an ultra-right wing regime with him as President. He personally infected President Harrison and key members of the chain of command with the first strain of Scorch Flu.” My throat is scratchy, and it’s Dante who hands me a glass of water to sip. “I was a part of stockpiling the first vaccine, a sin I almost lost my daughter over. But in the end, it didn’t matter because the virus was so virulent and morphed so quickly into the second strain…” I sip the water to hide the tremble of my mouth as I remember Susanna’s lingering death from the secondary infection. I couldn’t protect her, not with money, position, or power. “By then, everyone was dying in our bunker. Whatever initial plot Pigeon had spawned turned on him when he was taken down by the secondary virus. I left after Elizabeth’s mother died.” I look around at the Lucianos. “What else can I tell you?”
“Who is taking Tanner Hillish’s place?”
“Great Nation America took a serious blow when Hillish was assassinated, and I understand we have you and your wife to thank for that.” I make eye contact with Luca. The warrior nods graciously, squeezing his very pregnant wife close. “I thank you both on behalf of the nation, for what it’s worth.”
Nani smiles. “We’re just glad to have been able to fulfill our mission, Senator.” I feel the gift of her use of my old title.
“Well, you two did an incredible thing in taking him out and destabilizing the cult. Under Hillish, the Great Nation movement was centralized, with well-connected cells communicating with each other and clear goals. Once Hillish went down, infighting began and the momentum of the movement was lost. Thank God.” I shake my head. “I was still getting FBI reports at that time, such as they were, but soon even those ceased. Amazing how quickly it all fell apart.”
“Did you ever hear the name Dwight Kane?” JT asks.
“I heard of him just before I left Washington. He is one of the contenders trying to take Hillish’s place. There’s a council of elders in the movement that supposedly guides Great Nation America and chooses leadership. I know he made a play for the position, but after I left the capital, I dropped out of the loop of all that.”
“This does fill in some holes in our knowledge base,” Luca says. “We know Kane because Cash tangled with him in Grimesville. Jolene is his sister.”
I nod. Elizabeth confided in me about the demand note they received. “Elizabeth told me Cash is the hero of Grimesville. I heard about you on my journey here.”
Cash shakes his head. “I’m no hero. I just wanted to get my girl and my dog back. I did what anyone would do in that situation.”
“You’re too modest, brother.” JT whacks him on the back. “Grimesville was the first group to get organized and go on the offensive against Great Nation America, and it was because of you.”
I assess the good-looking blond man afresh. All of the Lucianos are handsome, but Cash has an extra charisma that makes me want to look at him longer and hear what he has to say. Star power, my Susanna used to call it. I still remember how she’d touch my cheek and look into my eyes as she did so. Cha
risma is a quality that can’t be bottled or faked, and Cash has it in spades.
Cash turns to Dante. “Right now we need to concentrate on getting Lucy back, then we can fight over who’s a hero around here.”
“You’re right,” JT frowns. “We’ve got to take Kane down and get Lucy back alive. Here’s my idea for an attack on the mine, based on the intel Roan brought back.”
The attention of the group shifts to active planning. I sit and listen. What the Resistance needs is a central figure to rally around. Someone people can look to for inspiration. If we find that person, we can gain momentum toward rebuilding a system of government.
I watch the family discussing possible routes into the mine, and a spark of hope ignites. We may just win, after all.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kane
Sitting at my desk, cleaning my weapon, I picture the dago bitch dying a painful death, her eyes filled with tears, her skin pale with pain. Her voice is pitiful as she begs me to stop hurting her. I smile, rubbing the Magnum, the smell of gun oil sweet perfume in my nostrils.
She will be the one to die an excruciating death.
Jackson steps into the doorway. “They’re here. The Lucianos and Jolene. They’re ready to make the trade.”
I stand, my chair scraping the stone floor as my heart rate picks up. “Are the men ready?” I reassemble my weapon and check that it’s loaded.
“Yes, sir.” Jackson’s dark eyes are bright, his lean body tense with excitement. Jackson doesn’t usually show much emotion—he’s not womanly that way. But he loves a good battle and a well-laid trap.
Jackson falls in step with me as I move through the corridors toward the entrance.
Five of my best men will go around and encircle the Lucianos and when the time is right, open fire.
They think they’re so special, the saviors of North Fork, the heroes of Grimesville? Nothing but a clan of WOPs hiding out underground. They’ll get what’s coming to them.
Our booted feet echo down the dim corridor. The thunk of my boots against the stone grounds me as we move towards the light, where the trees are backlit by sunset sky as we exit.
The sandbags around the entrance are splattered with blood from that stupid redskin’s attack, but over the barricades I can see Jolene.
My bitch sister.
She flaunts herself in tight jeans, standing between her lover, Cash, and his brother, JT. I’ve watched the family and identified each of the Lucianos on surveillance video my men made. They parade around the area like they own it. Not for much longer.
They look upset now—the men’s faces are grim, and Jolene’s eyes look puffy, like she’s been crying. The Luciano girl’s finger really got to them. Good.
I need to be careful, though. They’re not stupid or cowardly; they’re fearless out-of-control mutts in need of being put down.
I can’t help the smile that twists my lips as I look at Jolene standing there in the dusk. Her hair is growing out, a halo of blonde curls framing that angelic face of hers. Those wide turquoise eyes glance fearfully at me. She should be scared.
“Hello, sister.” I don’t bother yelling. I let the quiet carry my voice to where they stand, fifty yards away at the tree line.
“I agreed to this, Dwight,” Jolene raises her voice. “That’s the only reason I’m here.”
“Bring Lucy out,” JT demands, his voice low and taut. “Let’s get this over with.”
I ignore him. “I’m surprised you’re willing to give up your woman, Cash.”
“Family is blood,” Cash says. “She’s your sister, and Lucy is mine. She wants to come back to you.”
I don’t believe him. He wants them both.
Well, so do I.
The one thing that’s not going to happen: they hand over Jolene and I return Lucy and we all go our separate ways and live merrily ever after. “Jolene, come over now. When you get here, my men will bring Lucy up.”
Cash turns sharply, a movement so quick it’s a blur. His arm flashes and I hear a gurgling sound. Jackson stiffens next to me as a crash in the woods announces the death of one of my men. Cash pivots, whipping his arm, circling, making that movement again, and I see another shadow in the woods, hear the sounds of death.
JT isn’t even trying to keep the grin off his face as more Lucianos, positioned in the woods, take out my men. I should have demanded to see them—three of the brothers, plus the redskin, are missing. Dammit!
I swallow, forcing a smile onto my face. No worries. We have more men, more guns, an armed shelter, and their sister. They can’t get in here.
The weight of my bulletproof vest feels solid and safe, along with Jackson’s presence next to me. There are over thirty men in my compound—no way can this family win.
JT raises his voice. “Enough games. Bring Lucy out. This is your last chance.”
“Send Jolene over. This is your last chance.”
A flash to my left—a blurred movement. That redskin boyfriend of the dago girl is running toward me, his long hair streaming. His animal hide clothing is a brown between the bark of the trees and the peach of the sky, making him hard to see. I raise my gun, but he’s thrown something and I feel a burst of fire in my arm, a blow that spins me to the side. I look down to see a tomahawk embedded in my bicep.
My gun hand hangs useless, almost severed. “Son of a bitch!”
Warm blood gushes from the wound, splattering the ground around me. Pain zips through me like wildfire, overtaking thought and movement. Thunderous noise explodes all around me as both sides open fire.
I reach for my other weapon with my good hand, but a yell draws my gaze up.
“Kane! You’re mine!” Cash is standing just on the other side of the berm. His arm flashes. A knife is coming at me, the blade catching the dying light of day on each rotation.
I’m mesmerized, watching it twirl through the air so fast… Time slows down, sound stops, and the light fades as the knife finds me.
Death has arrived, and the girl was right. It’s painful as hell.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lucy
Finney changes the bandaging on my finger…well, the place where my finger used to be. I’m gritting my teeth from the pain when an electric shock of awareness refocuses my attention. Roan is back.
And JT, Cash, Luca, Dante, Melody, and Jolene are with him. My eyes prickle with tears. I can feel the unique color and vibration of each of their energies, and recognize them instantly.
My family all came for the prisoner exchange.
But of course, Kane is never going to give me up, and Cash is never going to give up Jolene, so it’s a rescue mission. Hopefully not a suicide mission.
I need to get out of this cave and up to the surface. Make myself easier to rescue.
Finney concentrates on my hand, placing the last pieces of tape, and I grab his wrist. His eyes flick up to hold my gaze as I plead with him. “You have to help me. You’re not like those other men.”
He shakes his head, but I can feel him agreeing with me. “Listen to me.” My voice is harsh, my grip on his wrist tightening. “You’re a good man, I can tell.”
His eyes, the same gray-blue as the sky at dusk, film with tears. Guilt and regret churn inside of him.
“We all make mistakes,” I tell him. Like leaving Roan alone at that cabin and walking into the woods, then forgetting my stupid rifle at that tree stump. Being totally absorbed with my own emotions and getting captured. Putting the life of so many of the people that I love at risk. “We always have a chance for redemption.”
No sin is so great that it can’t be forgiven, with love.
“The things I’ve done…” Finney’s voice is barely a whisper.
“Our futures are not written in stone. You can change. If you help me escape, I promise that you can live with my family at the Haven. You can stay with us and have a different future.”
Hope is filling him, even as his guilt and fear try to quench it.
; “The past doesn’t matter.” My voice rises as desperation tightens my throat. “The only thing that matters is what we do now. And if you help me escape, we can get out of here together.” I squeeze his wrist harder. He nods, a small motion, but I sense his willingness. “We have to go right now.”
I feel the tension above us as a battle begins. Fortunately, no sound reaches us, or it might spook Finney into leaving me locked up. The kid takes my good hand and we walk out of my cell, turning left, heading back the way I was brought in.
Roan is pure instinct molded into white-hot anger. Is there room for anything else in him? Yes, I feel a beating heart of love deep inside him, the source of his strength.
I need to get out to where he can find me.
Sensing the men around us, above us, and in the different passages, I can almost make out the layout of the place. There are men descending through the rock in our direction. I see them as colors, feel them as tangled balls of emotions.
“We have to hurry.” Finney breaks into a jog as we head toward the stairs, but I stop him.
“Men are coming. Where can we hide while they pass?” Finney eyes me, his brows up, questioning. “There isn’t time.” My voice is urgent and desperate.
Finney pulls me into a side tunnel and closes a wooden barrier. It’s pitch-black in the small space, the smell of wet rock overwhelming.
I feel Kane’s death as an explosion, an ending that leaves nothing behind in that disembodied darkness. I’m dizzy with the impact of it, and steady myself on the wall.
Roan is infused with deep satisfaction. And triumph suffuses my brothers—along with renewed hope.
Heavy footfalls rushing by bring me back to my body. I’m not free yet!
Finney and I wait a few moments and then step back into the hall.
Roan is inside now, far above us. I can feel him moving closer.
“We need to get to the entrance,” I say.
“There are too many men. There’s another way out,” Finney says. “If we take the stairs down and go out that way, we’ll have a better chance of escape.”
