“He distracted her,” I whisper, glancing at Reed. Did Eric really save my life? “Why didn’t he just tell me?” I raise my voice, addressing Adam.
“For your own safety, and for his own. Possibly he intended to when the time was right. Who knows? The point is that he did a lot of wrong, but he tried to make amends.”
“He had a lot to make amends for,” I spit out. “He murdered innocent people, people who tried to get to safety, who tried to get into the States.” I can still see in my mind the young girl who was brutally beaten to death by a Dane soldier years ago for approaching the fences in sheer desperation.
“Maybe he did, but to my knowledge Eric was unaware of the unnecessary slaughter of the lost. I have seen how the soldiers at the fences handle those seeking sanctuary, I have lost my own people that way, but I do not believe it was on your husband’s orders.”
“You’re trying to make him a martyr.” I can feel my temper flaring.
“No, I’m not. Do not misunderstand me, Eric Dane did terrible things. He was obsessed with power and the desire to control the country’s resources, and he caused an unbelievable amount of damage. I cannot say whether or not he was remorseful for what he had done, but he did try to warn us, and he did love you.”
“I killed him,” I intone, emotionlessly.
“I suspected as much. He sent me a message the day he died via an email to an inside contact. It was the last I heard from him.” He regards me thoughtfully. “Do you feel guilty?”
“Should I?”
“No.” The answer is not what I expect. “You had your reasons. Bringing down NUSA is our top priority. Far better people have lost their lives in this war. The only reason I am telling you any of this is because I think that Eric’s last-minute change of heart should not go without notice.”
“I disagree,” I fire back, and then, forcing myself to remain calm, “he took something . . . someone from me.” I swallow back the lump in my throat. “Someone very dear to me. If he had loved me he would never have done that. So you see, Mr Vincent, this whole exercise is pointless. You want me to believe Eric Dane loved me, but I will hate him until the day that I die.” I slump back in my chair, feeling exhausted, Adam Vincent’s extraordinary eyes have never left my face. “I’m sorry,” and it almost sounds like an apology, “but I just don’t believe you.”
“It’s really that hard to believe?” The sympathy in his voice strikes a chord, wounding my pride. I do not need his pity.
“You said it yourself, you didn’t know him.” I can feel my emotions starting to spin out of control, and I realise that my hands are trembling. Reed takes one look at my face and turns back to Adam.
“Let it go, Vincent,” he growls menacingly. “You’ve had your say, now leave it alone.” The last thing I need is for Reed to lose his temper.
“It’s okay,” I soothe, placing a hand on his arm and smiling up at him. “I’m okay, really.”
As I glance back at Adam, a strange look crosses his face. It is a mixture of realisation and understanding, and his eyes flicker between Reed and me. It’s as if he knows, and as I watch him he seems to come to a decision.
“You’re right,” he changes tack. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset or offended you, either of you,” he adds, including Reed, “it was never my intention. Perhaps I was mistaken. Let’s get you back to your vehicles, I’m sure you’re anxious to be on your way.”
“What?” I am struggling to make sense of the abrupt change in his demeanour. “But we need to work together, I thought that’s what you wanted?”
“I do, absolutely,” he smiles sincerely, “but I have something else I need to do, before I can help you.”
“What is it? What could be more important than defeating NUSA?” I challenge.
“Saving lives,” he says simply and he extends his arm towards the door. “We need to travel to California; there could be survivors there, people who need us. Your Legion was created and given the ability to fight; that is their purpose. I am happy to give whatever help I can when I return. I will come to meet you as soon as I’m done.”
“How long?”
“A month, maybe more.” He shrugs non-committally and then laughs at the look of horror on my face.
“Don’t be impulsive, Rebecca. NUSA will not be defeated so quickly, and plans take time to set in motion. We won’t miss much, I’m sure. Also, we are dangerously low on supplies, and we haven’t ever been to California. The coastline is full of harbours and ports and those ships are loaded with items that could be very valuable to us. You can direct us on our return, when we come to meet you.”
“But . . .”
“No buts, Rebecca,” he shakes his head. “This is what we do.”
Chapter 18
The scene outside has not changed; the members of the Legion and the Ordinary are still in their same positions, eyeing each other warily. I nod to the others, assuring them that everything is fine, and I give Adam the location of our headquarters. Despite everything, I am inclined to trust him, trust that he is who he says he is and that he genuinely wants to help. I can sense Reed’s hesitation beside me, but he does not say a word. This is my call.
After a final goodbye, I turn to leave, but a sudden commotion amongst Adam’s people grabs my attention. Someone shouts out and I see a man approaching through the crowd.
“No, get back to your post!” Adam shouts, displaying more emotion than I could have believed he was capable of, a mixture of panic and dread. My eyes search the crowd for the source of his dismay, my body on high alert for danger.
“It’s not going to work,” he murmurs, so softly that I have to strain to hear him.
I stand on my toes, intrigued, following the progress of the blond head making its way towards us. Then, in the instant that the crowd parts and I see him, my blood runs cold and I am rooted to the spot, physically unable to move. Aidan.
For a minute I cannot move, cannot speak, cannot even breathe and the blood rushes to my head making me feel faint. This isn’t possible. Aidan is dead; I watched him get shot, twice, in the chest. There is no way he could be walking towards me, his blond hair slightly shorter than the last time I saw him, his brown eyes as warm as I remember.
“You son of a bitch!” I roar and I leap on Adam and knock him to the ground.
“I’m sorry,” his voice sounds a million miles away and the heat of a rage unlike anything I have ever known fills my entire body. I land a ruthless blow to his face and raise my arm for another, but before I can bring my fist down, I am hoisted off him.
“Rebecca, calm down!” Reed restrains me and I go berserk, kicking back against him, twisting from side to side and screaming. I am yelling at him to put me down and calling Adam every filthy, revolting name I can think of. I watch in slow motion as he gets unsteadily to his feet, watch the stampede as the Ordinary charge towards us, murder in their eyes, kicking up a cloud of dust, and I see the Legion streaking down the street, ready to do battle.
“Enough!” Adam raises his hand and his people screech to a halt only a few feet from where we are standing. Reed is still holding me tightly, telling me to calm down, and when I turn my head to scream at him, I see the shock and fear reflected in his eyes. I have never seen Reed afraid. He is fearless, and the look on his face calms me down enough to stop struggling. I go limp in his arms, watching in horror as Aidan reaches us and turns immediately to Adam, checking to see if he is all right.
Finally, he rounds on me, his face filled with loathing and disdain, and his eyes sweep over me with no glimmer of recognition.
“What is wrong with you?” he barks in disgust, turning back to Adam, who is looking at me with such compassion that I have to turn away.
“He wants to see you. Alone.” Loader’s gravelly voice oozes disapproval and Reed nods, placing his hands on either side of my face forcing me to look at him.
&n
bsp; “You don’t have to go in there.” He is almost pleading.
I drop my eyes, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze.
“I do.” I screw up my face in an attempt not to cry and he closes his eyes, drawing in a deep breath.
“Okay.” He releases me and steps back, dropping his arms limply to his sides. “Okay,” he repeats, the word sounding harsh and forced. I take a second to compose myself, wiping my face with my hands, and breathing slowly in and out.
“I need to know,” I say, stepping forward and standing beside Reed, but facing the opposite direction. He doesn’t say anything and I place my hand on his shoulder briefly before I walk purposefully back into the hall.
Adam is alone in the storeroom, which is remarkably brave considering how I’d attacked him only a few minutes earlier. I shut the door behind me and take my seat opposite him, just as before.
“You’d better have a good explanation for what just happened,” I say, noticing with a hint of satisfaction the large purple bruise on his cheekbone.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
“Sorry just isn’t going to cut it.”
“I had planned to tell you, please believe that was my intention. Right up until the moment I realised two things.”
“And which two things were those?”
“Firstly, that you are in love with the Southerner.” I don’t bother denying it.
“Secondly?”
“That you desperately need to hate your late husband.”
“You’re talking in riddles, Vincent,” I snap, and he sighs.
“Eric didn’t kill Aidan. Believing that he did was the one thing that allowed you to keep hating him, to keep the guilt at bay – you believed that he had murdered the man you loved. But he didn’t.”
“Just because he didn’t succeed, doesn’t change what he did,” I counter.
“You said you were looking for me. Where did you hear about me?” Adam’s change of subject is confusing.
“Eric,” I answer hesitantly. “Eric told me to find you.”
“And why do you think he told you to find me?” he asks.
“I have no idea.” And then it dawns on me as he answers his own question.
“Eric sent you to me for one reason only. So that you would find Aidan. Find the man that you loved.”
I process this for a moment, struggling to reconcile my hatred of Eric with this information.
“And yet you felt that you would hide him from me anyway?”
“Oh Rebecca,” he sounds harassed, “there is so much you don’t understand.”
“Explain it to me, then. Why didn’t you tell me Aidan was with you when I arrived? You obviously know who he is, what he means to me. So why hide him?”
“I had no intention of hiding him, quite the opposite in fact, although I knew it wouldn’t be easy for you. Aidan is not the same. There are things you need to accept. When I saw you with the Southerner, I realised that bringing Aidan to you might not be the best thing for you right now. You seem happy, and I do not want to bring you any unnecessary trouble or pain. I apologise if that was not my decision to make.”
“Damn right it wasn’t your decision to make. And my relationship with Reed has nothing to do with you,” I pause, as the implications of what he has just said dawn on me. “What do you mean, Aidan is not the same?”
“I mentioned before that Nina Lee began to go rogue. Her obsession with Eric, it seems, destabilised her.”
“So?” I ask, wondering how on earth this is relevant.
“Eric wanted you to believe that Aidan was dead, but he never intended for him to die. Unfortunately, Nina had her own agenda, and her jealousy and hatred for you resulted in her becoming unhinged. She disobeyed Eric and tried to end Aidan’s life for real, to destroy you.”
“How do you know this? What proof do you have?”
“Aidan survived,” he says simply and I frown in confusion.
“So, he survived. He’s stronger than I thought.” I push aside the waves of guilt that threaten to overwhelm me. I left Aidan for dead. He was still alive in that library and I abandoned him.
“No man could survive the gunshot wounds that Aidan sustained. No ordinary man.”
“Wait, are you saying . . .” I stop talking as I realise what this means.
“Eric gave Aidan the ability to heal,” he confirms. “There’s your proof. Eric did not kill the man you loved. He couldn’t bring himself to, although he despised him for being the object of your affection.”
I sit back, stunned. The reality of what this means is too much to process. Eric didn’t kill Aidan. And he set me on a course to find him. If that’s true, then how much else is true? If everything that Adam has told me is genuine, I murdered a man who was trying to save me. I cover my mouth with my hand, feeling the bile rise in my throat.
“I’m going to be sick,” I manage, and I grab the wastepaper basket under the table just in time.
Adam sits calmly in his seat, watching me closely as I throw up and throw up, guilt spreading through my chest and up my throat, leaving a rancid, acidic taste in my mouth.
“How did Aidan get here?” I croak, pitifully.
“Eric asked me to keep him safe. He almost didn’t make it; his wounds were extensive, and even with the healing ability, it took an entire team of Eric’s specialists to stabilise him. When he arrived here, he was weak and semi-conscious. It took weeks before he was well enough for us to realise what had happened.”
“Realise what had happened?”
“I’m afraid I have bad news,” he clenches his jaw, steeling himself. “When Aidan came around he had no recollection of what had happened to him. He cannot recall anything of his life prior to his waking up in our care.”
I narrow my eyes. “That’s ludicrous,” I say and then, seeing the look on his face, I start to panic.
“What exactly are you saying?”
“I’m saying, Rebecca, that Aidan has absolutely no memory. He doesn’t know who you are.”
It takes a minute or two for his words to sink in and when they do, I shake my head in denial.
“That’s impossible.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not, although whether it’s a result of his procedure, or an effect of his subsequent injuries, we are not certain.”
“Is it permanent?” I stifle a hysterical urge to laugh, although it is anything but funny.
“We have no idea,” he spreads his hands, palms up, on the table. I shut down, going silent. I need to be alone, but no sooner have I had this thought, than the door bursts open and Aidan enters, giving me only a cursory glance before addressing Adam.
“I’m sorry to interrupt but I need to speak to you. There’s a reason I left my post before you called for me.”
“What is it, Aidan?” Adam asks politely, giving him his undivided attention. Aidan’s glance flickers over me as if he is reluctant to continue.
“You can speak freely in front of Rebecca,” Adam insists. Aidan’s next words are like a bucket of icy water being thrown over me.
“It seems they were followed, sir. A convoy of NUSA soldiers is heading this way.”
“Where are you going to go?” I yell over the roar of engines, running alongside Adam as he herds his people into a multitude of old trucks and cars. I am too distracted to appreciate just how many transport vehicles the Ordinary have.
“I’m sending most of them to safety, up into the mountains,” he lifts his head, indicating the crest just beyond the town. “Then I’m taking the exploration party to California, just as planned.”
“You can’t outrun them!” I exclaim.
“We can and we will. We’ve been doing this a long time, this isn’t the first time we’ve come across NUSA scouts and it certainly won’t be the last.”
“We can fight,”
I point out and he shakes his head.
“Fight or flight, Rebecca, it’s human nature. Your instinct is to fight, but my people would rather flee. That way we live to fight another day.” Exasperated, I step aside as he bangs on the side of a mini-bus and it lurches away from the kerb, rolling down the Main Street towards the mountains. The NUSA soldiers are approaching from the east, but they are still behind the mountains, they will not see this hasty departure and Adam plans to lead them away.
“I would strongly suggest you don’t go home right now,” he yells, as one by one the assortment of vehicles rumbles past us down the street. “They may be able to track you.”
At my cry of frustration he adds, “You could always come with us.” He is only half-serious.
“Where is Aidan going?” I can’t help asking and he regards me curiously for a minute before answering.
“He’s coming with me, to California.”
I stare into his peculiar eyes, deliberating, and then I nod. “Then that’s where we’re going.”
“Okay, follow us,” he roars, grabbing the side-bar of a passing truck and leaping nimbly up to stand on the foot rail. I turn and start as I bump into Reed. His expression is pained and angry, and I grimace as I realise what he has just overheard.
“It’s not safe to go home,” I mumble feebly. He doesn’t say a word, but the hurt in his eyes cuts me to the core.
In a moment of clear-sightedness I surge after the truck, speeding alongside Adam, whose eyes are wide. This is probably the first time he has seen anyone with Gifts like mine.
“Can your people take three of mine? And the hostage?” I call, thinking of Veronica, Gabe, my father and Chase. The journey ahead is no place for them.
“Certainly.” He calls into the cab and Loader stops the truck.
Putting his hands to his mouth he lets out a loud, high-pitched whistle, and the last lorry about to depart for the mountains brakes to a halt.
“Dad!” I shout, racing back to the Jeep and yelling at Reed for the keys. “Change of plan. You take Gabe, Veronica and Chase, and follow them.” I point to the lorry waiting in the middle of the street. “As soon as we have led the NUSA soldiers away, take them home.”
The Legion Page 15
