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Haven

Page 34

by Justin Kemppainen


  Without a word the Inquisitor took off, and in the ensuing short trip, Michaels mind hovered around Claudia and a certain little kiss, letting his irritation fade into a sense of satisfaction. The same hint of a smile formed on his face and lingered long after they arrived.

  He didn’t even notice that the other two Inquisitors had not escorted him inside, followed behind in their own vehicle, nor even left the apartment building.

  Chapter 33: Modified Motivations

  The only thing Kaylee found more disconcerting than Malcolm’s ominous and silent stare was its complete absence. For the last couple of days, he had been practically glued to her hip, following her around everywhere and watching every single move she made. Given any danger, he would react with immediate and instinctive action to protect her. Each time it happened she had to talk him down from hurting someone, like the soldier of a few days ago, but it had given her a glimmer of hope that she’d make it out of all of this alive with someone so powerful dedicated to keeping her safe.

  Now, however, it didn’t even seem like he was paying any attention. She’d move on to talk to someone else or figure out some other details, and it would take him between several seconds and a couple of minutes to notice and follow behind. Instead of watching her carefully, she noticed he spent a great deal of time staring off into the distance in a direction towards Purgatory, as though he had forgotten something important.

  Unfortunately, she was too busy assisting with the coordination of the non-fighting refugees. She would have liked to talk to him, but there would have been an interruption every three seconds. She kept getting scattered communications from Rick, who sounded continually more tense each time he contacted.

  “No goddammit, south! South!” he had yelled to someone else, accidentally holding down the transmit button while talking to her.

  “What was that about?” she had asked through the radio.

  A sigh crackled through the transmitter, “Some of Matthias’ families thought our primary exit point was actually the elevator. Good God, do we really want to face a firing squad right away when we arrive? I was hoping that we’d at least get to see some grass and a little sunlight before we get executed, but no, of course that’d be too nice…” The tangent continued for a while longer. Rick tended to rant when he became upset.

  If it wasn’t Rick asking for numbers updates and whether or not they’d gotten people in line to be ready to start moving them, it was Desmond asking the same questions.

  “I don’t know, I’m not in charge,” she told him for the fifth or so time as he scurried back and forth, checking on various people he knew and trying to discover exactly what was going on. It was mid-afternoon, and the group led by Olivia, according to Desmond’s repeated statements, would be arriving soon. He seemed very restless, and considering the circumstances of a big situational change, it was understandable. It still got on Kaylee’s nerves.

  “Will you sit still?” She finally snapped at him.

  Desmond stopped pacing, looked up at her, and gave a sheepish smile, “I’m sorry, Miss. We’ve never had to move all of the children before.”

  Desmond’s lined face and gray hair was indication enough for Kaylee, but his entire body looked as though he were suffering through a deep-set weariness. Not quite like Quinton; even though the man was much older than Desmond, and although Kaylee only saw him for a moment, he moved with an upright stiffness, purpose, and energy that suggested a much younger man. Then again, Quinton hadn’t been taking care of children at all hours for numerous years.

  “They’d just be terrified of him anyway,” she muttered to no one in particular.

  “I beg your pardon?” Desmond asked her with an inquisitive look.

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

  Desmond checked his watch again, “Sure, okay.” He leaned up against the wall again next to Kaylee and closed his eyes. Kaylee had her arms folded and looked back and forth. Various groups of individuals and small groups milled around, most of them asking questions every few minutes. Kaylee, for the most part, kept a stern glare on her face to discourage anyone from talking to her.

  The few soldiers assigned to this escorting detail didn’t look much happier than she did, but it still didn’t stop a few of the less-timid people from asking the same questions over and over. Half of the questions included some bit of “What the heck is that thing?” referring to Malcolm. No one could really answer, and no one had been brave enough to ask him directly, not that he would have given much of a response.

  Eventually, she got sick of it. In a loud voice she called out, “Okay, everyone: shut up! Just wait quietly and in a few hours we’ll make more announcements, and then we’ll start evacuating. So stop asking-”

  “When are we going?” a voice called out.

  Kaylee yelled, “Shut up! For God’s sake stop asking! We’ll tell you as soon as we hear something!”

  Among the small crowds came a small din of what sounded like grumbling. Kaylee sighed and whispered to Desmond, “I’m going to go inside and check things out.”

  “What things?” Desmond whispered back.

  “Their progress.” She replied.

  “What are you talking about?” He asked, confused.

  “Wait, you don’t know?” She asked, eyes widening.

  “No,” he said, with a bewildered look. “That’s why I kept asking.”

  Kaylee slapped her head with the heel of her hand. “Oh good lord, sorry. I thought you were just being nervous and annoying. Here,” she motioned to him, “follow me.”

  They were keeping plans quiet until they had enough soldiers present and systems worked out to clear everyone out efficiently. Rick expressed a concern that, given information about an exit and an impending horrific poison attack, the civilians and noncombatants would be driven into a panic. Even without consideration of the injuries dozens of people would receive trying to rush through the opening, running blindly into enemy territory could be brutal.

  “It could easily get everyone there killed.” He had said. “I want them to go unnoticed for as long as possible until we have the Citizen forces distracted. That means you don’t move out of there unless there’s a helluva lot of running, panicking, screaming Citizens. No questions and no arguments.” He had said forcefully. “Tell the civilians whatever you have to or don’t say anything at all, just keep them under control.”

  They were kept in the dark, for the time being; it was overall safer that way. As she led Desmond up several flights of stairs, she filled in some of his blanks for him.

  “Yes,” he said, irritated, “I already know about the hole and why we’re keeping it quiet. I just don’t know what’s going on right now.”

  “Well, okay then, sorry about that. I’ll show you what’s happening.”

  Another guard called out with a harsh female voice, “Halt!” as Kaylee turned the corner into the hallway, a bright floodlight shining into her eyes and silhouetting the woman in an unmistakable hunched posture synonymous with weapon aiming. At her midsection she placed one open hand on the back of the other, thumbs extended towards her chin in a non-obvious, bird-symbol. Desmond didn’t notice it, not that it would have mattered if he had.

  The guard lowered the weapon and she called out, “Sorry ma’am. Go ahead.”

  The light cut out, temporarily wrecking the pair’s ability to see until their eyes once again adjusted to the gloom of meager lighting. Some spilled out from within the living space, likely some emergency setup. Kaylee clicked off her own flashlight, no longer needing it.

  Kaylee gave the guard an awkward smile as she passed by. It wasn’t often that she associated with women in down below. Under the circumstances, there were fewer women than men, made so by a number of people very much like Miguel. In any case, she didn’t really know how to relate to them, especially those made practically androgynous by combat training and fighting.

  Once in the room Kaylee could see a few soldiers
from various factions crammed into the bathroom looking up, wielding various tools and equipment.

  Desmond immediately nodded, “I see, widening the hole.”

  Kaylee smiled at him, “That’s right. It’s still going to be several hours yet before we head up, so we might as well make it easier for when the time comes.”

  Desmond nodded again, “Wait until night to have a lesser chance at discovery.”

  “Exactly.” She called out to the people working. “How’s it going in there?”

  A harsh, female voice with a slight Russian lilt called from inside the bathroom through the opening, “Who is that? Who is there?”

  “It’s Kaylee,” she replied.

  Without warning the three men, uncomfortably close, in the bathroom working scrambled to the side as someone dropped down on top of them. It was a thin, blond woman with grime and soot covering her face and arms. “You little lying bitch. I should gut you for what you did to us!” Tanya yelled at her.

  Desmond’s eyes went wide and he looked at Kaylee, who merely smirked at the other woman. “Well, I couldn’t just tell you how to get in, could I?”

  “We were taken prisoner!” Tanya yelled, brandishing her fist.

  “If it weren’t for me, you’d both have been shot dead!” Kaylee snapped back.

  “Says you, we-”

  “Would also have never found anything,” Kaylee cut her off.

  Desmond said nothing, only took a few steps away from Kaylee and looked back and forth between the two women glaring at each other. He briefly wondered if a fight was about to start.

  Then all at once the tension in Tanya’s body ceased, “Tch. Whatever,” she said dismissively.

  Slowly, Kaylee also relaxed. She kept on edge, remembering how quickly the other woman was able to spring an attack. The other men in the bathroom had returned to a semblance of work, glancing down occasionally to see if anything was happening. Tanya wiped sweat from her face.

  “Fine. What do you want?” Tanya demanded.

  “I’m checking your progress and showing him,” she pointed at Desmond, who cringed slightly as Tanya shot him an intense gaze, “what’s going on up here.”

  “Well, get out of here. We are very busy and interruptions are not making the work go any more quickly.” Tanya said with a scowl.

  “Tanya!” a hushed voice came from the bathroom, and Kaylee could see the head of Eugene poking downward through the widened opening. “Keep your voice down, I can hear you from the living room upstairs!”

  “Don’t you speak to me that way, Eugene!” Tanya shot back in a hiss. “I do not need to listen to the words of weak little cowards!”

  “For the last time,” Eugene whispered, face turning red from blood rush, “the two of us were selected. I did not volunteer-”

  “You still didn’t want to fight!” she replied.

  “So what?”

  “It means-”

  Before Tanya could continue emasculating Eugene any further, Kaylee cut into the conversation. “Look!” she yelled, eliciting harsh shushing and glares from the arguing Russians. “Look,” she said more quietly, “just tell me how long until everything is ready.”

  Eugene’s head disappeared from sight, and a moment later he dropped down and shouldered his way through the other men, who Kaylee noticed were using screwdrivers to install strips of wood for hand and footholds. Tedious work, but quiet enough, Kaylee thought.

  Eugene wiped his hands on his pants and offered his hand, “Hello, Kaylee. It is good to see you again,” she opened her mouth to introduce her companion, but apparently they had already met, “and you, Desmond.” They shook hands, and Desmond stepped back, still eyeing the hostile figure of Tanya.

  “Hello Eugene, I hope Elijah wasn’t too rough on you before.” Kaylee said.

  He waved his hand, shaking his head, “Of course not. It was well worth it.” He gestured all around. “All of this; the unity we share.”

  Tanya looked at him, arms folded and scowling, but said nothing. Kaylee nodded, “I guess, but still…”

  “Bah, I’m not that old. I can stand a little rough treatment.” He said, puffing his chest out slightly.

  Tanya made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes, and his shoulders slumped. “Anyway…” Kaylee said, switching the subject, “progress?”

  “Good.” he said, “Excellent! We are clearing out spaces for people to be in the upstairs, and we’re keeping as close an eye as we can on other possible places to put more people if it becomes necessary. We will be ready when the time comes.”

  “Good,” Kaylee said, nodding, “make sure you try and give some of your men sleeping shifts,” she told him, repeating instructions from Rick, “there’s a good chance that this will be quite a long night.”

  Eugene nodded, “Yes, I will do that.” He turned towards Tanya, who hadn’t budged, “What is this?” he exclaimed as softly as he could. “Why are you not working?” Tanya’s eyes widened with shock and fury seeped into her expression. She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. “No! Don’t make excuses, get back up there!” He pointed to the hole.

  Tanya made an angry, frustrated noise and whirled around, shoving through the other workers and jumping upwards. She grabbed the edges of the hole and pulled herself through.

  Eugene turned back towards Kaylee, smiling, “I know I will pay for that, but sometimes it is too hard to resist.” he whispered.

  Kaylee stifled a laugh and shook Eugene’s hand once more. She looked at Desmond and jerked her head towards the door. He followed behind, checking his watch.

  “Olivia should be here soon,” he said.

  “Well,” Kaylee replied, “we can go downstairs and see.” As he followed her, she kept glancing backwards, expecting to see Malcolm trailing behind, but he hadn’t even come along in the first place. She wondered why he had become so distant.

  ******

  Thoughts and pictures swirled around in a muddled mess as Malcolm sat in the alleyway adjacent to the building Kaylee descended from. He kept seeing metal tables that he associated with shivering. He saw the face of a smiling, bearded man. Yet these images mingled with crystalline spires and brilliant lights of gold and red shining through, casting beautiful hues all along serene fields from multiple suns.

  Then images would pass into that of just one sun, shimmering in a pale blue sky next to a white spire, towering over a double cross-shaped building.

  In a brilliant flash his juxtaposed memories evaporated in a rush of fire and smoke. He watched; anguish tugging at his heart for reasons unknown, the golden fields burning and the ground crumbling beneath his feet. The spire of white and crystal crumbled to the ground, casting clouds of choking dust in every direction.

  Every one of these cluttered memories ended the same way, in destruction. He couldn’t figure any of it out, so they continued to roll over his mind. Every now and then an image of Kaylee would come across as a brief figure. Then, he would snap out of his reverie look around to see if she was still near, usually to find her some distance away. This time, he didn’t see her at all.

  He considered going to find her until he saw her come out of the one of the buildings, his thoughts already returning to confused images. The word ‘Institute’ played again in his ears, connected to the series of images. A smiling, bearded man, a yellow sun in a blue sky, and a white spire rising above. Yet he still didn’t know what it meant.

  Overhearing enough discussion led him to the conclusion that this ‘Institute’ would give him clarity of these jumbled thoughts, and that it was somewhere up above. As he considered it more and more, his resolve strengthened, and he decided that he needed to visit the place.

  ******

  Michaels respect and regard for Claudia had done naught but increase as he spent the rest of the afternoon running the work in her department. As it stood, he had to coordinate the creation and assembly of all of the parts to the dispersal device. It wasn’t overly difficult; the job entailed primarily overse
eing the process that his predecessor had started. Most of what he did involved paying attention from time to time and answering questions when necessary.

  Then again, this was mixed with the more secretive process of refining the formula and creating the agent intended for placement in the device. Following her work and completely alone, synthesized the materials and observed the delivery into the dispersal devices, holding his breath and sweating. Being so close to the devastating agent made him more than a little edgy.

  Several hours passed in this process, and he had made the decision to allow the staff to leave for the night. They still had time to finish, and already a dozen of the cylinders lined the back of the large building, with many more close to finished. By his estimation, the dispersal of the agent would take several days to reach its maximum saturation. Even though he copied her structure precisely, he noticed that the agent’s theorized density was higher than he expected. It’s on purpose, he thought, she won’t risk it rising to the surface. It lowered the estimated kill percentage, but Michaels believed it to be the intelligent decision. It will still do plenty, he thought.

  He admired the elegant design of her system as much as she disgusted herself for creating it. The only real danger, in spite of her protests, was a misfiring of the mechanism before it could be delivered.

  He was still nervous as he continued visualizing the horrific death that would await anyone exposed to it, but he tried to keep his apprehension, and trembling hands, to a minimum while he worked.

  He left the laboratory with a feeling of satisfaction. During the time he worked, he occasionally thought about Claudia, wondering if he’d get to see her again, and further wondering why he kept thinking about her. Walking down the hallway he touched the spot on his cheek where she kissed him, and the same smile crossed his lips.

  He reached the hallway near the main lobby area, hearing shouting.

  “All right, now you listen! You have about ten seconds to open that goddamn door before I use your head to break it down. Do you understand me?!” The normally cheerful voice of Dunlevy filled the chamber with roaring fury, penetrating the door that Michaels approached.

 

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