Tomorrow's Gone Season 1

by Sean Platt

  Wolf started in the vestibule and ended when the temple seemed to have been turned inside out. It was dark and he didn’t even have his hand-crank flashlight.

  “Well, there’s no Lost in here. But … unless your monk buddy is hiding in a corner on a date with Pamela Handerson, he ain’t here.”

  Truth removed his blindfold and looked around in the dark.

  “Back there,” he said.

  Wolf looked towards the pews and the stage up front, a pair of doors leading to back rooms he’d not yet checked.

  “I’ll check.”

  “Not back there,” Truth said on his way to the stage. He ascended the steps, then walked to the rear and squatted.

  He drew his knife, wedged it into a plank, then reached into a hidden notch and lifted the false wooden floor.

  Wolf looked into the hole, wondering what might be hiding inside all that darkness. “Would you do it for a Scooby Snack?”

  Brother Truth ignored him as usual. “The temples were used for an underground system to bootleg alcohol during prohibition.”

  “You mean there’s a yellow brick tunnel we could’ve taken?”

  “I don’t know where any of the other entrances are.” He descended a stairway and disappeared into the dark.

  “Why’s your monk in a damned tunnel?”

  “Because the artifact is believed to be somewhere in the tunnels.”

  Wolf had questions. Like, How long has your buddy been gone? And, What makes you think we have a weak sperm from a limp dick’s chance of finding him alive?

  “Well, you coming?”

  “Every time I see your sister. You got a light?”

  The monk reached into his robe and retrieved a metal tube. He shook then twisted it until red light spilled out from the top.

  “You got one of them that says Property of Wolf by chance?”

  Silence.

  Brother Truth was gone.

  Wolf followed with a growl.

  Thirty-Three

  Richmond Freeman

  “How could you do this?” Olivia shouted at Richmond from across the dining room table.

  He looked at the stairs to make sure Elijah wasn’t coming down for breakfast yet. Sure enough, his son was still sleeping. He took a bite of the bacon their cook had made and washed it down with a gulp of water.

  Keeping his voice calm, Richmond defended himself. “I won’t be forced into a corner.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

  “You were asleep and I didn’t feel like discussing it.”

  “The council meeting is in a half hour. What are you going to say?”

  “I’ll tell them I rejected it.”

  “It’s not your decision. It’s a council decision.”

  “I’m sure the others would agree with me. Or at least a majority.”

  “The general won’t.”

  “He’s not Small Council. It doesn’t matter what he says.”

  “No? What about when he goes to Large Council and petitions your removal for breaching protocol?”

  “Let him fucking try.” Richmond slammed his fist onto the table.

  Olivia looked up and behind him.

  He turned to see his son standing there, sleepy-eyed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Your father and I are just discussing council matters.”

  “Never heard Dad say the F-word.”

  Richmond wasn’t in the mood to joke with Elijah. “Don’t you have school soon?”

  “Sorry,” Elijah said, raising his hands in dramatic apology. “Mom, do you care if I go visit Charlotte after class is out?”

  “I don’t see why not. But you should ask Mr. Pascal for permission.”

  Elijah smiled. “Okay.”

  Richmond watched him bound up the stairs like a smitten schoolboy before he turned to Olivia. “Charlotte?”

  “The girl Pascal saved.”

  “From when you went to dinner last night.”

  “Right. That’s where we were while you were screwing us over.”

  “By protecting us from Stratum? You know what they did to our people — you know what they’re capable of!”

  “And how long are you going to hold a grudge?”

  “A grudge? It wasn’t that long ago.”

  “The same people might not be there. How do you know that Stratum’s leaders even okayed it? You’ve seen how easily situations can get out of hand.”

  “They opened fire on innocent civilians they let into their city!”

  “Maybe it was a miscommunication. We have no way of knowing what really happened that night. What if this is just like the Hendrix Incident?”

  “What?”

  “The Slums hate us for what one of our Rangers did. They saw it as an act of war, but we know it was just one crazy Alt that went rogue.”

  “This isn’t the same.” Richmond shook his head. “This isn’t some miscommunication. My father was betrayed. This was personal. This is personal.”

  “And how long will you allow this to hold us back?”

  “Hold us back from what?”

  “You know what, Richmond.”

  Of course. The fertility science.

  “This isn’t just us, this is the future of our world. Your father would see that, and wouldn’t let a grudge stand in the way of something this big. You know it.”

  Richmond stood. He had to shower and dress.

  “We’re not done talking,” Olivia said, raising her voice.

  “I am. Or else I might say something I regret.”

  “What?” Olivia rose to her feet.

  “We should get ready.” Richmond stepped onto the bottom stair and set his hand on the rail.

  “Say it.”

  Richmond let go of the rail and planted his feet on the floor. “Okay—” he closed the distance between them and kept his voice to a low growl “—is this about the future or us keeping our power?”

  Olivia glared like she wanted to smack him, but said nothing.

  She walked past him and up the stairs, turning left to the guest room where she occasionally slept and kept quite a few of her clothes, and slammed the door.

  Richmond wished he’d never gone to the pub or the inn last night. Now he had to prepare for a Small Council that would surely be fueled by frustration and rage.

  Richmond was steeling himself for the closed-door session as the other council members took their seats around the table in his City Hall office.

  He was thankful that this meeting wasn’t public. Richmond didn’t want to think about how the crowd might react to him turning down such an offer. Many who remembered what Stratum had done would support him. Others, especially those with lost pregnancies, or no success with conception for years, would be pissed.

  Olivia sat beside him at the table, expertly masking her anger for appearances.

  Brother Serenity sat to his left, next to council members Alan Childress and Moira Antonetti. General McTaggart, who was not part of the council but showed up anyway, was staring bleary-eyed daggers at him from the far end of the table.

  Richmond began the meeting by telling them about the offer along with his reasons for refusing it.

  “Why didn’t you let your council vote on it?” McTaggart blasted back.

  Before Richmond could respond, Alan, the eldest member at sixty-two and a longtime friend of Richmond Sr., spoke up. “I think he was right not to trust Stratum. We know what they’re capable of.”

  “We should’ve at least had the opportunity to hear the deal for ourselves, to investigate their claims. But the mayor has decided to screw protocol, that he knows best,” McTaggart replied.

  “First off, it’s not we,” Olivia said, before Richmond could respond. “Last I’d heard you are not part of the Small Council, making it a decision that has nothing to do with Fortress.”

  “If you don’t think this affects the entire Coalition, and therefore the Large Council of which I am a member, then you’re just as delus
ional as your husband. This should have been brought to the Large Council, and still should be.”

  “We both know that—”

  “I move that the Large Council should hear Stratum’s offer,” McTaggart cut him off. “Let the cities decide. Let the people decide. I motion for a special meeting tomorrow.”

  “You can’t motion anything,” Olivia shot back. “You’re a guest of the Small Council, General.”

  McTaggart glared, but held his tongue.

  Moira, the city’s most veteran doctor with thirty-four years of experience, raised her hand. “I would have liked to know more about their fertility program. I don’t need to warn you about our birth rate. If we don’t figure out something soon, there will be no youth to work the farms or do the work, much less carry on. Society as we know it will die.”

  McTaggart pounded his open palm on the table. “Exactly! Not to mention that most of our Rangers are in their forties and older. We need young men to take the mantle.”

  “Young men and women, you mean,” Olivia replied.

  McTaggart rolled his eyes. “Young men and women. But at this rate, our ranks of strong men and women are thinning. With the bandits and dangerous Alts out there looking to take what little we have, who will stop them?”

  “There is no dangerous Alt threat!” Richmond yelled. “And if you’re so concerned about Alts, then why would you ever trust Stratum? They’re actively pursuing and training them to do who knows what.”

  “Then you admit that the Alts are a threat! Way I see it, Richmond, they’re probably managing that threat. They’re actively hunting a girl who slaughtered an entire town with a Ruin Storm. Is that something you think ought not be monitored?”

  “We don’t know what happened in Callan’s Corner,” Richmond replied. “At any rate, it doesn’t matter. I’ve made my decision.”

  “Yes, you’ve made it. We should put it to a vote for the Large Council, for the public at large.”

  “The mayor didn’t come to this decision on his own,” Olivia said. “We discussed it at length. Believe me, nobody wants to see the fertility problem solved more than me. I’ve lost five births. But Richmond and Alan are right: we cannot trust Stratum.”

  Richmond was surprised by her going out on a limb when she so clearly didn’t support him at home. He was touched, until his skeptical side wondered if this was her ensuring their power through solidarity.

  McTaggart wasn’t done trying to sway the council. “What about you, Brother Serenity? Would you like to know what Stratum has to offer?”

  Richmond turned to his religious mentor, one of the few people whom he trusted implicitly, not entirely sure where he’d land.

  Brother Serenity took a long moment to think, then calmly spoke in what sounded like the opposite of McTaggart’s hurried, flustered speech.

  “While I would have appreciated inclusion in this decision, I trust that the mayor and vice mayor did their due diligence in deciding what is best for our city.”

  McTaggart shook his head. “No.”

  Brother Serenity stared at him, confused. “What?”

  “I reject your answer — I demand that a Large Council meeting be held tomorrow! This isn’t something we can afford to sit idly by on. Stratum came to us with an offer which Richmond rather rudely refused, assuming my sources are on the money. Stratum may see this hostility as an act of aggression. Need I remind anyone what happens with Stratum as our enemy?”

  Sources? There was nobody else in the room with them. Did Mr. Kind reach out to McTaggart?

  Did someone else?

  Richmond wanted to accuse the general but had to tread lightly given that McTaggart was holding back whatever he had on Richmond, for now.

  “So, let me get this straight — you’re a general looking to appease enemy aggressors?” Olivia asked.

  “That isn’t what I’m looking to do. It’s called strategy. Yesterday’s enemies are tomorrow’s potential friends.”

  “And today’s friends are tomorrow’s potential enemies,” she replied, finishing off one of Richmond Freeman Sr.’s most famous quotes in a speech he gave when ratifying the Coalition of Cities.

  Hearing McTaggart use his father’s words against him only enraged Richmond further.

  Moira cleared her throat. “I would move that we call for a Large Council meeting to hear Stratum’s offer, before the public. General McTaggart can call a meeting at next month’s Large Council anyway. So why wait?”

  Richmond and Olivia both looked at her, surprised. It only took one council member to make such a motion, even in a closed-door meeting like this.

  Richmond begrudgingly nodded. “Fine. Then we’ll put it to vote. All in favor of holding a Large Council meeting tomorrow, or at the earliest convenience of the other city leaders, vote yay.”

  So long as only two hands went up they were good.

  But instead it was a trinity of Moira, Brother Serenity, and Olivia.

  Thirty-Four

  Johan Pascal

  Pascal woke up exhausted and hungover, but at least it was to the smell of bacon.

  He dressed and went downstairs figuring he’d see Val making breakfast. Maybe she had a change of heart. If not for him, then maybe for Charlotte.

  But downstairs he found his young guest cooking.

  “Good morning,” he said in surprise.

  “Hi.” Charlotte smiled and looked past him. “Where’s Val?”

  “She had to go home for something last night.”

  “Oh.” Her lip fell, ever so slightly. “Well, I hope you don’t mind me making breakfast. I wanted to try and pay you all back for your kindness.”

  “There was no need for that.” He went to the fridge, grabbed the jug of water and poured himself a glass. “Want some water? Or milk?”

  “Water, please.”

  He poured them both glasses of water and set them down as she plated two meals of bacon and eggs and sat opposite him at the tiny table.

  “It’s great. Thank you,” he said from behind a mouthful of salty bacon and fluffy scrambled eggs.

  “Thank you.” She shoved a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Charlotte looked at him for a moment before anything registered. Long enough to make him afraid that she remembered.

  “I’m good. It’s the first time since Dad died that I actually wanted to wake up.”

  “Good.” Pascal smiled.

  But inside he flashed on the horror of her memories. The pain had dimmed a bit, especially seeing how much happier she was. Now all he could think about was how to make things right with Val, if he even could.

  There was a knock at the door after breakfast.

  He answered, finding Captain Stewart along with Campbell and Knox, all geared up as if out for a mission.

  Stewart started with a friendly nod. “We need you back on duty. Message from Fortress came in saying there was supposed to be a tea shipment in Riverside yesterday that’s still not arrived. Fortress has Rangers searching south. We’ll take north.”

  Pascal was surprised to find himself not wanting to go. For so long, work had been his life. It had been easy to pour himself into the job if it meant forgetting what happened to his wife and daughter. He enjoyed being a Ranger and training Cadets. But now he wanted to spend time with Charlotte and Val.

  “I need some time to see if I can get someone to watch Charlotte.”

  “I’m fine,” she said from the kitchen. “You can go.”

  “Let me see if Val is available. Just in case you need anything. I’ll meet you at the stables.”

  As Stewart and the others headed away, Pascal walked four houses to Val’s place. He knocked on the door and waited. She answered after a few knocks, staring at Pascal without saying a word.

  “I’m sorry. I should have talked to you first.”

  “Yes, you should have.”

  “I did ask her.”

  “At her lowest point. She would’ve said yes
no matter what.”

  “Maybe. But … I couldn’t just … not do anything.”

  Val shook her head. “I know you meant well, but you can’t just go around messing with people’s heads. We have no idea what kind of ramifications it might have. When’s the last time you took someone’s memories?”

  “Five, six years ago. Not since a bit after you left.”

  Val knew because she created the program that harnessed his power.

  He’d only removed memories from a few people, captured bandits recruited as spies. So far as he knew, none had suffered from his manipulation of their memories, not that he cared. Then again, most of those bandits had left Hope Springs after serving their sentence and purpose, free to live however they pleased.

  Val said, “I hope she fares better than some of the others.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You can’t just say nothing. What are you talking about?”

  She looked around, then pulled him into her house and closed the door.

  Val kept her voice low. “Five of the spies that you wiped and we recruited had dangerous psychotic episodes. Three killed themselves, two tried to kill others before being stopped. Both later died in detainment.”

  “Shit. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It was classified. It’s why I left.”

  Pascal stared at the ground, overwhelmed by guilt and fear. What if he had somehow ruined Charlotte? Or made things worse by trying to make them better?

  “What do I do?”

  “I’ll need help keeping a watch on her. I’ll get her talking; hopefully she’ll open up more to me now.”

  “She was friendly this morning. Made breakfast before I woke up.”

  “And did she seem to remember anything from last night?”

  “No.”

  “Did she ask why her arm was bandaged?”

  Pascal hadn’t considered that until now. He’d not thought to manipulate last night’s memories, so why hadn’t she asked about the wounds?

  “Maybe she thinks she suffered them before?”

  Val looked concerned. “Listen, I shouldn’t have left last night. I—”