Dark Future

by KC Klein

  I froze like a rabbit caught in the crosshairs of a rifle. Should I risk moving us or play possum and pray the quickly disappearing night was enough to cover us?

  I glanced at the sky. The clouds had rolled on leaving open stars peeking through the leaves of the trees. I cursed the lack of forethought on my part not to find better cover. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but now . . . it was too late.

  The crunching of footsteps drew closer. The metallic taste of fear sprung up in my mouth—a little too familiar.

  “Kris? Kris is that you?”

  Quinn. My breath flowed; I could swallow once again. Thank God. “Here, I need help. ConRad’s out cold, and I don’t think we should move him.”

  “Let me see,” Quinn said. Then a soft click and a small flame appeared. The light grew as it touched a wick attached to a crude lantern. A soft glow encircled us and I glanced up and made out Quinn’s slight figure and a taller, sturdier one. From the protective stance as he hovered around Quinn, I could tell it was Zimm.

  “How did you find us?” I’d never been so happy to see two people in all my life. Despite myself, hope bloomed in my chest. Quinn kneeled beside us, and then grinned at me. “I have my ways.”

  Her smile was familiar. I’d seen it before when I’d gone on my “European tour,” courtesy of my father. He wanted me to soak up Old World culture. I did a lot of soaking up, but most of it German beer. In a more sober moment I did go visit the Mona Lisa, and though smaller than I’d imagined, her smile was mysterious and serene just like Quinn’s was.

  “What? How?” I asked, but then I remembered Quinn’s clouded eyes and shut my mouth. Zimm stepped forward and placed his finger over his closed mouth indicating a need for silence. His brown eyes didn’t rest long on my face as they scanned the landscape, wary and alert for danger.

  “He looks bad,” Quinn whispered. Her gaze accessed ConRad’s body, taking in the damage. I wasn’t sure how well she could see, the lighting was poor, but it didn’t stop me from noticing the graying around Quinn’s temple. Both Quinn and Zimm had a feral look about them, like they’d made the forest their home for a little too long. I turned my attention back toward ConRad.

  “I don’t know if he’ll make it.” My voice hitched as my mind steeled itself for the possibility.

  “But he’s alive?” she asked, seemingly hesitant for the answer.

  I nodded. “For now.”

  “Let me try.” Quinn kneeled at ConRad’s side and placed one hand on his forehead and the other over his heart and breathed deep. Her eyes fluttered close and a quiet humming sounded from between pressed lips. I watched as wrinkles receded from her face and her skin glowed with a white light.

  I threw a questioning look at Zimm, but he just raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment and placed his finger to his lips, again assuring silence on my part.

  I nodded, having no intention of breaking Quinn’s concentration. The dim yellow light from the lantern and the more powerful one from Quinn’s face revealed the miracle I’d never grow tired of seeing. Bruises faded, a broken arm snapped into place. Ribs cracked into alignment. Open cuts mended, then scabbed and flaked off, revealing pink new skin underneath. And ConRad’s face—my beautiful ConRad’s face—popped back out and un-disfigured before my eyes.

  Twenty minutes passed as Quinn worked. Sometimes quietly, sometimes with a low hum. At one point her brow furrowed and sweat formed along her upper lip. Zimm came from behind and placed his hands on her shoulders as if giving her strength. The gesture seemed to help, calming her almost immediately.

  Soon Quinn released ConRad’s head and scooted back. Her healing had worked, and now ConRad seemed to be sleeping peacefully instead of unconscious.

  I stared at Quinn in amazement. “You’re a healer?”

  “My powers have grown.” The Mona Lisa look was back, albeit more tired.

  “How?”

  “With lots of great sex,” Zimm answered. I could hear the smugness in his voice even in the dim lighting.

  My mouth dropped. He couldn’t be serious. I shot Quinn a questioning glance.

  “I prefer to call it making love, but I’m not discounting the benefits.” She smiled and raised her eyebrows.

  I laughed, feeling lighter than I had in days. “Are you saying that great sex has made you more powerful? Actually evoked your healing ability?”

  “That’s what I attribute it to. I’m stronger after physical contact from Zimmion. I can feel his strength and tap into it when healing.”

  Well, if that isn’t a case against “sensory deprivation,” I didn’t know what is. “Regardless, you need to rest.” I said, remembering the old lady’s weakened state after she had treated Zimm.

  Quinn shook her head. “I’m good. He did have some internal injuries.” Her gaze flowed over ConRad’s still form. “You were right. He wouldn’t have made it.”

  Tears welled in my eyes. “Thank you.”

  This time a real smile broke across her face, and for a blinding second I could see exactly why Zimm risked his life to be with her. “Just helping The Prophesy out.”

  I sighed. It all came back to The Prophesy. What had Quinn said back at the compound? Something about dragging the evil ones into the light and they would seek to kill her. Her or me? I thought of the murderous look on Syon’s face. Yeah, that part was true. But there was more. A mighty warrior will be called upon to save her, and he will become an outlaw to her rescue. I stroked a stray hair off of ConRad’s forehead. He could definitely be classified as a warrior, and now my heart hurt at the realization, an outlaw. And a final sign will be given to all of you, so that you may know she is The One. A miraculous birth will be bestowed upon her. This sign will be hers and hers alone so that all may know she is The Chosen One. I placed my hand protectively on my stomach. I took solace in the fact that The Prophesy spoke of an actual birth, because the last part sent chilled apprehension through my blood. By means of her own body,her own she will save the world.

  There was more at work here than just me. And regardless if I felt up to fulfilling The Prophesy or not, it was time to finish the damn thing once and for all.

  Zimm sat down with his back to the tree and grabbed Quinn, snuggling her in his lap. “We should rest. We’ll stay here till full morning, then leave.”

  I nodded, not really caring where we were going. I was just glad for the possibility of another day with ConRad, because, as much as I closed my eyes to it, something told me my days with him were numbered.

  Small kisses to my neck woke me from a fitful sleep. I’d lain down next to ConRad before drifting off, determined to steal some of his body heat. He must’ve rolled over since his arm and leg were protectively thrown over my shoulder and hip. Something hard and solid nudged me from behind and began a slow sensual grind against my rear.

  Oh, he had to be delusional.

  My eyes were gritty from lack of sleep; dirt grew as an additional layer next to my skin and my latest bath seemed so long ago I think I’d become immune to my own body odor. And he really was poking my behind with intentions of doing it here, no more than two feet away from Quinn and Zimm. Typical male.

  I turned to give him a small piece of my mind, but lost my momentum when I took in his dazzling blue eyes. A silly grin split my face. He was alive. In the deep of the night I’d thought I’d lost him and then to see him in the morning, looking at me like I was the best thing that ever happened to him, made my heart skip.

  “Hi,” he said, as he bent and kissed the tip of my nose.

  “Hi back,” I said, blinking my eyes, trying to clear my sudden watery vision.

  “What happened?” he asked, stretching his arm overhead, testing the feel of his ribs.

  I told ConRad the events that happened after he’d passed out and how we were found by our new traveling companions.

  ConRad took the knowledge of Quinn’s new healing abilities in stride. He did mumble something along the lines of “about time,” but his welcome to Zimm was
decidedly cooler. He actually growled in his direction. “Why’s he here?”

  I stood as ConRad did and brushed the dried leaves from my backside. Quinn overheard—it was hard not to—and shot me a pleading glance to pacify ConRad. I rolled my eyes and held up my hand for patience. I knew the practice of sensory deprivation, so ingrained in this culture, would be hard to overcome, but we needed to get to safety before debating the issue.

  “ConRad, please, they saved your life. Let’s go and we can discuss this later,” I said, tugging on his arm.

  “Quinn saved my life. All he is—is a distraction.” ConRad stood and took a menacing step toward Zimm, and at the same time scowled at Quinn. “He put your life in danger by showing no regard for the laws that kept you safe. Now, because of him, you are hunted just like the rest of us.”

  “He loves me, and we’re getting married.” Quinn shot back in the same defensive stance.

  “Over my dead body! No goddess and soldier of mine are going to marry. With healing powers you have an obligation to society to focus, and you can’t do that by playing house on the run.”

  Zimm stepped forward, teeth clenched, ready to charge. Quinn threw an arm across Zimm’s chest, telling him to back off. This was her fight—she’d handle ConRad.

  “Well, I wished you’d have mentioned the death wish before, I could’ve arranged that last night.” Quinn’s voice rose with each passing word.

  “Don’t push me, Quinn, because I’m still your guardian. I’ll drop you off at the Sanctuary so fast you’ll think time stood still,” he growled. ConRad and Quinn stood nose to nose, neither one ready to back down. Both of them mirroring each other, arms crossed, teeth bared.

  “Enough,” I broke between the two. “We can discuss this at a later time when we’re safe, and when I’m sure the Elders aren’t chasing us. Zimm, lead the way. And ConRad, since you seem to be fit enough—carry the bags.” I lifted Quinn’s and Zimm’s bag and threw it at him. “March.”

  Quinn had stormed off, and Zimm followed. When there was enough distance between us, I turned to ConRad. “What was that all about? They’ve both risked their lives to save you.”

  Zimm had given him an extra shirt, a size too small and he pulled on the collar, irritated. “They’ll never be accepted. They’ll be ostracized and hunted by the Elders. Any offspring of theirs will be tainted. Nothing good can come from their spitting in the face of cohe face nvention.”

  My heart broke for Quinn. “But things are changing. And you’ve broken with convention also. You would’ve never been allowed to marry, and yet we did.”

  “Not legally,” he said, shooting me a glance. “You’re the wife of my heart, but no laws bind us. I might’ve broken the Elders’ laws, but not religious taboos. Plus, neither one of us is a healer. We are not depriving anyone of our abilities.”

  “Yes, but neither is she. They’re stronger together, and she even attributes her new powers to Zimm.”

  “You’ll be hard pressed to make society believe that.”

  I sighed. This was not the conversation I wanted to have. Quinn would have to fight her own battles. God knows, she let me fight mine. There was other more pressing information I wanted to know. “How did the Elders catch up with you?”

  ConRad sighed and rubbed the base of his neck with his hand. “That’s another reason I’m upset with Zimm. Originally there’d only been five horses, one for each person. But a few days after we left you, Zimm—reckless idiot—wasn’t paying attention and his horse stumbled and went lame. We had to put her down, which meant Quinn and Zimm were riding double. Syon had us on the run. Damn bloodhound didn’t let up for a minute, having fresher horses and better supplies. I should’ve followed my instincts and gone off on my own. I would’ve found him and killed the bastard already. Instead, I’m running. Again.”

  I hadn’t told ConRad about my own failed attempt at murder. If he knew, it would be one more reason for him to lock me safely up in the Sanctuary. And Lord knows he didn’t need another. My hand fluttered over my belly. This child would be my one-way ticket to nine months of confinement. I couldn’t bear being separated from ConRad. And child or not, The Prophesy would never be fulfilled with me tucked away somewhere safe.

  “What happened?” I needed to hear the rest.

  ConRad adjusted the pack to his opposite shoulder. He shrugged his shoulders as if easing stiff muscles. His movements were subtle, but I knew him. ConRad was tense.

  “It was early in the morning and we were exhausted. The night before we believed we’d covered our tracks enough so we could rest till dawn, but they found us. In the end there was no choice . . . I knew who they were after. I gave my horse to Zimm and led the Elders away from the group on foot. I was able to avoid capture for three days, but the lack of food and sleep took its toll. I was finally caught.”

  I’d thought he’d end the story there with his face an impassive mask, and his body closed off from all emotion. But he took a breath and pushed through as if the words were poison and he had to expel the venom.

  “When they caught me, Syon had his men tie my hands behind my back. Then . . . Syon forced me at gunpoint to walk with him alone into the forest.” ConRad stopped talking and, for a long moment, we walked in silence. He wouldn’t look at me, but stared straight ahead putting an emotional distance between us with each step.

  I wanted to reach out and touch him, tell him it was okay, but the barrier between us was too thick. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you had to do to survive, I understand. I’d never think less of you because of it.”

  He pierced me with the blue of his eyes. “You think I’d let him? You think this was about me? Some things are worse than death, Kris. He knows that and it sickens me. And yet you think I wouldn’t take a little pain to prevent that? Do you even know me at all?” He looked at me with disgust and my gut tightened with shame.

  “He didn’t just want to rape me. If he did, he could’ve done so at any time. He wants me willing. That’s his game. And he knows that the only way he’d get that from me is through you. But the link between us works both ways, and I knew what he’d do. So that’s why I had you promise to never leave the Sanctuary.”

  My heart broke at his words. I’d almost betrayed him. Almost betrayed him by giving Syon the means to break him, bend him to his will.

  ConRad stopped walking and stared out into the horizon. He swallowed hard and dragged a ragged breath deep into his lungs as if to steel himself with courage. “I had to make you promise, because, Kris, everyone has their limits. And—God please forgive me—but mine . . . is you.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  By mid-afternoon we’d made it to a ragtag camp, thrown together with battered tents and scanty lean-tos. Clothes were hung on branches and the smell of cooked squirrel and unwashed bodies ripened the air. I was surprised. When I’d last left the group, Red and Tank were the only soldiers, now over forty men milled about. Some of the men I knew from the compound; others had the look of being farmers. As ConRad and I walked into the camp, >men still loyal to their Commander in Chief stood in respect. ConRad was greeted with salutes and pats on the back, and even I received a hug from Red, which had ConRad arching his brow.

  ConRad and Zimm left quickly after they showed us to our new camp to meet with some of the higher-ranked men. Quinn led me toward a fallen log that was used as a seat around a low campfire. We watched as our lunch sizzled in a flat iron pan and passed a canteen of water back and forth, content to observe the other soldiers work. The camp hummed with repressed energy. Guns were cleaned, knives sharpened, and weary guards patrolled the perimeter, their fingers never far from the triggers.

  “Where did all these men come from?” I plucked at the collar of my damp shirt and blew down the opening to cool my skin. The afternoon was hot and the clearing provided little shade.

  “All over,” Quinn said, in her typical non-forthcoming manner. She sat beside me, legs out stretched and crossed at the ankles, hair tucked behind
her ears. For wearing such a male getup, military uniform and black combat boots, she looked decidedly feminine.

  I threw her my famous deadpan look, which spoke multitudes about my lack of patience.

  “Sorry,” she said, with a sheepish grin. “I communicate with Zimm simply by thinking the conversation in my mind. I forget with others I need to talk. Some have left their farms, others their posts—the word’s spreading.”

  “And exactly what word is that?” Pulling information from Quinn was an exercise in persistence.

  “Kris.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Look around you. This . . . is the Rebellion.”

  The words made me edgy. Her tone was light and awe inspiring, as if she were witnessing a thing of beauty.

  And she will incite a nation to rebel. The word Rebellion made me uneasy. The term was a synonym for death. “Why?” I asked, not sure if I wanted the answer.

  “Look,” she said, pointing to an older man, his shirt taut against the swell of his belly, his face already reddened from the sun. He seemed awkward with his weapon as he adjusted the strap numerous times, trying to find a good fit. A less likely warrior would be harder to fine. I wondered why he’d leave his life of comfort to live as an outlaw.

  “That’s Ana’s husband,” Quinn said, readnn said,ing my thoughts again. “Word spread of the Elders’ corruption and the torture that is going on in the prison. People are sick of being under the Elders’ heavy yoke, tired of their daughters being sold to the highest bidder. And . . . ,” her words trailed off as she cleared her throat, “there’s suspicion around the number of stillborn female babies.”

  Stillborn female babies. I remembered the deadened look in Ana’s sunken eyes after she came back from the so-called birthing room. As per the custom, she’d been alone with the special sect of Elders. And now with Quinn’s implication . . . the thought was too monstrous to comprehend. “You don’t think?”