The Color of Jade (Jade Series Book 1)

by Redding, Mae

  ***

  “I hope you’re feeling more comfortable here.”

  I sat numb, in front of Morrison’s desk.

  “What?”

  “Is Damian treating you better?”

  “Yes,” I lied, as I glanced at him, only to find him involved in the paper before him. His indifference sat under a thin mask of synthetic interest how Damian treated me and I found it irritating that he pretended to be concerned. “Does it really matter how Damian treats me?”

  Surprised he heard me, he looked up from his papers, his jaw tense and his brow furrowed, annoyed I challenged his intensions. I gave him a blank stare as I waited for his response.

  “No,” he said, bluntly with an acrid look in his dark eyes. “As long as you aren't dead, I don't care what he does to you.”

  The thought of suicide suddenly crossed my mind as I contemplated ways to end my torture and foil his plans at the same time. If he only wanted me alive, I could fix that. The thought brought moisture to my eyes. They grew heavy as my gaze locked in on Morrison's steely glare, and then suddenly with a calloused coldness he changed the subject.

  “Our purpose is important. We just have a few fires that need taken care of, but for the most part, the corrupt individuals of the government finally met their end. There has never been a time like this to have the opportunity to change everything.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Greed and personal gain have ruined this country. Ha…” he chuckled, a sinister laugh. “The American dream… more like the rich get richer, exploiting the ones who work hard for nothing but to make someone else money, them money. You are a bit too young, you haven’t seen this first hand but it’s been about the oil companies, corporate giants, the government and an endless list of laws that must be obeyed… set in place to serve them. Capitalism at it’s finest…The ones who pay for it are people like you and me. It was only going to get worse.”

  “I have a hard time believing you were so severely oppressed by our government,” I lashed out harshly.

  “I was victimized by them just as much as the next guy, maybe more so…The virus was a blessing,” he said as he glared at me. “Do you really think that the Government and the military, with its arsenal of missiles, fighter jets, and nuclear weapons were to keep the terrorists out? Our nation was full of terrorists… No, it was there as a constant reminder, to keep the people in line and they wouldn’t think twice about using them on their own people.”

  “Isn’t that what you, Mr. Morrison, are doing? Aren’t you after personal gain, willing to do anything to get what you want? Keeping people in line with your weapons, your Militia?”

  “It’s just Morrison, and you better be careful with your tone with me, Jade,” Morrison paused. The leather chair creaked as he leaned forward across his desk. His eyes narrowed under his wiry brows.

  “Or what? You’ll lock me in that jail again.”

  “Everyone needs to make sacrifices at first, Jade. It has to be like that when forming a new government. Some rules will always need to be in place and there will always be a need for someone to enforce them... I am that person. Why do you think I have so many supporters? It’s because they are tired of the government having a strangling hold on everything. That virus coming through, even though it was devastating, made a way to make things better.”

  “Do things look better to you? Millions of innocent people died and those who didn’t are starving. Life isn’t better, it will only get worse.”

  “No one is innocent… more like a drain on society. White trash, lifetime leaches, those who expected handouts.”

  “My mom was not a drain on society!” Confusion leaked into my tone. The way he talked, as if the virus had a target, a hit list, a mind of its own.

  “Call it a casualty of war then. There has to be a breaking point somewhere. In order to stop the downward spiral there needs to be a breaking point before you can move forward, change things. Our government was corrupt and self-serving. The nation was spiraling, and the ones responsible for it were going to take every one of us down with them. It would never be resolved with the way things were going. We gave them too much power. That is a truth that people on both sides would agree on, the one thing your father and I agreed on.”

  “So being held here is for my own good?”

  “Yes, life will return back to the way it was supposed to be. Men will be men again instead of slaves to their government and will take what is rightfully theirs without interference, and women, will learn to behave like women.” Morrison didn’t try to hide the bitterness in his voice at his last statement and the hatred in his eyes confirmed it.

  He set the papers held in his hand on the desk and proceeded to write something down.

  “Now, I need you to tell me about Kane.”

  I was surprised by the abrupt turn in conversation and felt my heart start to pound. I chewed nervously at my lip.

  “What? Why?”

  “Kane is the enemy. If he won't join us then we are at war with them. You’ve been around him. You know his tactics.”

  What did he mean we? I wasn’t at war with Kane, he was. And I’ve been more than around him. I grew up with him. I loved him. He was my brother and I longed desperately to once again, be under his overprotective thumb, tucked away, quietly in my room, willing to stay inside as he asked.

  “Kane isn’t the Government, or the army. Why do you care about him?”

  “He’s working with them. Or what’s left of them.”

  “No he isn’t.”

  “I’ve already established he’s contacted them, many times and has done things that maybe you aren’t aware of. Your brother isn’t as perfect as you think.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true and the details are what you are going to help me with. You can start with where he keeps his weapons and where he’s getting them.”

  “Well, he kept his weapons in the basement of our home and the ammo in the china cabinet until you burned it down.” I immediately knew I shouldn’t have said that but I couldn’t help it. His stare turned cold and calculated.

  “Wrong answer, try again.”

  “He’s my brother, I can’t-”

  “No! Kane is not your brother anymore! He was never meant to be your brother!” Morrison jumped to his feet slamming the chair into the wall behind him. He walked around the desk. Stoic, he stood in front of me as his dark penetrating eyes bore holes through me. My heart jumped and quivered painfully in my chest.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “We are your family! You will do what I say. Do I need to remind you, what you do here directly affects how Trey is treated.”

  “How do I know you haven’t hurt him already?”

  “You don’t… If I tell you he'll be left alone, he will… But if you don’t give me what I want, then I can promise you, Trey will receive special treatment on your behalf!” Morrison walked closer, his face inches from mine. “Now, what will those green eyes tell me today?”

  My eyes were wet with tears. I wiped them away and sighed. “Okay…”

  CHAPTER 27

  The dark halls and quiet compound carried an eeriness that crawled under my skin. Morrison, Damian and the other men left but I knew I wasn't alone. With the two women and the ever present guards that stood at every entrance, I stayed locked in my room and waited impatiently as I paced the floor awaiting news of Morrison's attack on Kane.

  I pushed the patio doors open and a light breeze floated in through the sheer curtains like gentle waves of the ocean as I crossed the small enclosure. I leaned into the chain link fence and pressed my forehead against it as my fingers grasped the links. The patio faced north but I still saw the setting sun and the direction of Little Creek. I couldn’t see the town from where I stood, I could barely see a small part of the city, but knew exactly where Little Creek was. The mountain peninsula to the north of me stood out like a beacon and directed the way home but hid everythin
g behind it.

  I watched as the golden sun moved beyond the horizon. The vibrant violet and ginger shades looked painted through the distant white clouds but gradually faded to grey as the sky turned dark. The brightness of the sun disappeared and I felt lonely, abandoned in darkness to tread in the bleakness of its wake. The stars came out and the moon was full. A beautiful night but I couldn't enjoy it.

  Damian didn’t say much to me today, which relieved me but he wouldn't let me leave his side. I needed a break from him desperately and took advantage of his despondency. It upset me to think about the inevitable fight that would take place tonight as he pumped iron and did sets of pushups in the back room to distract his mind and prepare for tonight. I hoped somehow, Kane geared up for a fight as well because Damian was on his way to find him. I tried to imagine how it would end as I hoped my brother would be okay and somehow, Damian wouldn’t return.

  “I’m sorry, Kane…” My voice trailed off as I turned and walked through my room, unable to stay any longer. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could play Damian’s charade even though I knew deep down, this was only the beginning.

  I walked out into the long shadows cast down the hallway and found the kitchen. As I made myself a sandwich, I heard the tiny whimpering cries of a child. Curious, I followed the sounds as I carried the sandwich with me. The tender cries led me down a long dark hallway to a wing of the compound I hadn’t been to before and to a door that was left partially open. I peered in.

  A row of six bunk beds lined the room barely big enough to fit them all. Twelve beds in all, all with kids who were asleep, or supposed to be asleep. The darkness of the night, thwarted only by a dim lantern that hung from a corner of the ceiling and the moonlight that filtered in through the two small iron barred windows.

  The silhouette of a child against the light of the lantern appeared as he sat up in bed. I couldn’t make out the face but that didn’t matter as the child’s head found the pillow again. That wasn’t where the cries came from. I looked into the darkness of the opposite corner of the room. The whimpering cries stopped as I neared the end bottom bunk and crept to the head of the bed. Tear induced hiccups developed as the child sniveled in an attempt to muffle his cries. The moonlight shown through the window and cast a ribbon-like stream of pale light that found part of the little boys face who couldn’t have been more than five.

  “Hi,” I whispered. The springs of the old bed frame squeaked under my weight as I sat at the edge of the bed. With an occasional snivel, the boy sat upright and moved away from me, frightened. “What’s wrong?”

  He didn’t answer but pressed his back further into the wall. I felt bad he was terrified of me. I held out my sandwich. He shifted uneasy in the corner.

  “You hungry? My name is Jade, what’s yours’?”

  He didn’t speak but inched closer as he eyed the sandwich. His hands twisted nervously into the blankets on the bed. I offered the sandwich again and this time he hesitantly took it in his grubby hands and ate as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. With a mouthful pocketed in his cheek, he gave me a slight smile as the fear in his eyes softened. He had the sandwich finished in a matter of minutes then rested his head on the pillow without a word.

  “He never talks.” I turned to look at a boy about ten years of age on the bed next to me. “He doesn’t want to be here, none of us do.”

  I turned back to the younger boy and I touched his arm. He startled at first, but then calm settled as I ran my fingernails over his back the way my mom would for me when she helped me fall asleep. I watched his eyes become heavy as I spoke quietly to the older child.

  “Why are you here, where’s your parents?”

  “All our parents are dead. Morrison is teaching us, as soon as we’re twelve we’ll be old enough to train to be fighters.”

  Thankfully, the dread on my face remained hidden by the shadows, my reaction to the boys comment, I wanted to keep to myself. I didn’t respond, I couldn’t, the fear that once paralyzed me now raged in anger and I wished I could do something.

  Another little face peered over the edge from the upper bunk and I looked to see he was about the same age as the boy underneath him. I looked back down at the little boy I sat next to, the one who devoured my sandwich. I stayed long after he was asleep and as I stood to leave, I realized my cheeks were wet from tears. I wiped my cheeks.

  “Will you come back sometime, Jade?”

  I looked back at the boy, my heart heavy. I swallowed at the knot in my throat as I forced my answer. “I’ll try.”

  As I walked back down the long dark hallway towards my room, no longer hungry, hopelessness and anguish hit me like a ton of bricks. Not for me, but for the twelve boys housed, lonely and scared in that room and I started to wonder if there were more rooms like that one. Even after almost two weeks of living here, I hadn’t heard any kids until tonight.

  In a trance-like state, I absently twisted the doorknobs to the rooms as I moved down the long hallway. Each one locked, as I expected and I checked the door of Morrison’s den just the same, but it creaked as it opened slightly. Surprised, I looked around. It was late and the hallway, heavy with darkness but I knew there was a guard at the bottom of the staircase.

  I cursed at myself as I walked inside and closed the door. I looked out the big picturesque window from behind the camouflage of the curtains. The grounds outside looked eerily quiet with only two guards that I could see who sat in the guard tower at the gate under the flood light above them. I pulled the heavy curtains closed and walked quickly through the darkness to Morrison’s desk then turned on the small table lamp. The pale golden lighting flickered as the power surged and adjusted. My heart pounded out of my chest. What am I doing? I knew I shouldn’t be in there but I couldn’t bring myself to walk out.

  I opened a drawer and thumbed through the files. Unsure what I looked for exactly, but I hoped to find something. I found a file that read Anarchical Order, at the top. The blood red ‘A’ on the flag with the gold sword slashed through it made more sense now as I pulled out the file. Morrison’s list of rules, important Government locations and Military bases, and some information about the virus was there. I read further, specific locations of where the virus started with lists of names and a date by it, dated September first of last year. Morrison and Jackson’s name along with their families, listed at the top of the first page. Then there were pages of names, hundreds of faceless people beneath his.

  Another file labeled Children. I opened it as well, only to find another list of names and stacks of papers. Each child had its own page with general information along with a picture. I stopped at one that looked familiar. A little boy, Corby Hudson. April briefly came to my mind. She had a little brother… I didn’t know his name.

  I thumbed through the other files and stopped at one that read Phase II.

  Phase II. What could that mean?

  I almost pulled it out then saw another file that caught my eye. Richard Kennington. I pulled out the file and opened it gingerly as if made of glass. Pictures sat on top of the file and I looked through them. There were several pictures of my family. All of us, apparently unaware the pictures were taken. Shocked, I looked at pictures of Kane, Trey and I and then more of just me, many more.

  As I flipped through the pictures, one caught my attention and I stopped and stared in disbelief. A picture of my mom, she was much younger, younger than I was now, perhaps. My mom had always been happy. I’d never known my mother to be the way she looked in this picture. She stood outside on what looked like a dirt road that crossed down the center of a golden field. The full length of her body slightly turned away from the camera with her head tilted back towards to whoever took the picture. She looked thin, beaten down, as if she’d given up. Her troubled eyes were full of defeat and revealed the mandatory surrender her forced smile confirmed. I recognized the look because it resembled how I felt.

  Distracted by the photo, I didn’t hear the noise outside until the downstairs door fl
ew open with a crash! I sat frozen as the sounds of footsteps moved quickly up the tile stairs and echoed in the deep entryway.

  “What are you doing?” Damian stormed through the office door. He rushed over to the desk and glared at me furiously. I expected a brazen slap but he seemed somewhat distracted and for some reason, restrained.

  “What is this, Damian?”

  He quickly glanced towards the curtain-drawn window as he straightened up the mess of papers then shoved the papers and pictures in the folders. “You shouldn’t be in here! Hurry up! We need to clean this up before Morrison gets back! He’s on his way… and furious right now! He’s coming for you!”

  “Why?”

  “Something went wrong! Kane knew we were coming!”

  As he quickly placed the files in the drawer, I noticed his hands, cut and bloody. From his disheveled and anxious appearance, he looked like he’d been in a fight. His shirt was torn and misshapen with raw cuts and abrasions on his arms. A deep gash above his right eye had seeped blood into his brow and dried.

  Damian grabbed me as he turned off the lamp, pulled me out the door and down the hallway. Headlights flashed through the windows like a spotlight as Damian forced me into my room.

  “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do you think Morrison won’t notice his desk was disrupted! Morrison notices everything, Jade!” Damian yelled furiously, with a hint of fear in his voice.

  “I didn't reopen the curtains!”

  “Stay right here, I’ll go open them… He’ll be up in a minute,” Damian said, with an urgency in his voice as he stalked out of the room.

  Not more than thirty seconds after Damian left, Morrison burst through the front door. My heart pounded as I heard it slam against the wall and once again, heavy footsteps tromped swiftly up the stairs.