The Redeemed

by Matthew S. Cox

  “Get them sum-bitches.”

  Tris hurried down the hall to the office and flopped in the chair. Bee stood by the worktable counting coins with such speed her right hand appeared to be a clicking blur. He’s gonna get himself killed. She held back the urge to cry―barely―and wound up meditating for a few minutes. He made it twenty-seven years without me… he’s not helpless. She grinned at herself. He thought she was a helpless woman because of her delicate build, and she thought him helpless because he didn’t have any cybernetic enhancements or nanites to repair his body.

  Guess we are perfect for each other. A tiny laugh escaped her along with one tear.

  Guilt didn’t work. Logic also felt like it didn’t work. She couldn’t tell him she didn’t really care all that much about Wayne. The ass was ready to regard her as ‘dropped property’ and claim she belonged to him because her owner had died in his roadhouse. She smirked, thinking back to that ‘waitress’ at Cloud 9 who had to serve tables in shackles because she tried to escape. That wouldn’t have been me. I’d have acted as meek as everyone thinks I looked until I could get a hand on a weapon and then I would’ve killed him myself.

  She grumbled. No guarantee Wayne would have actually treated her like that. Maybe he was all gruff on the outside. Kevin certainly thought so.

  “Ugh. No sense dwelling on that now.” She grabbed the mic. “This is Rawlins. Is there anyone out there from Amarillo?”

  She swished side to side in the old office chair, listening to silence for a few minutes. Bee finished counting and looked over.

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “Nah. I’m okay right now. Thanks, Bee.”

  The android nodded and walked out.

  “Amarillo? Please reply. I don’t care if this is against procedure. Pauline’s place is damn close to you and if Infected are there… We need to know if you still exist.”

  Radio silence, barring the intermittent pop or snap, persisted for two minutes and eighteen seconds according to the display on the computer monitor. A six-split screen showed views of the building interior. She spent most of the time watching the restaurant. The cam in the hall by the bedrooms picked up a rhythmic feminine squeaking.

  “I do not like ze sound of that,” said Gertrude. “Infected in Amarillo? Das ist sehr schlecht.”

  Tris squeezed the button, mic to her lips. “I don’t want to scare everyone, but we have to be realistic. Infected are drawn to large population centers. There’ve been several roadhouses attacked by the Redeemed these past few weeks, and what response have we seen? Not a damn word. Did you all check your security systems?”

  “Dad got pretty pissed off at the computer last week,” said Mirabel. “He used a bunch of those words you all don’t think I’m old enough to hear.”

  “She ain’t gonna let that go, is she?” asked Clive.

  “Mine’s screwed,” said Mac. “Damn thing doesn’t look like it ever worked.”

  A few indecipherable voices came over at the same time, though it sounded more like grumbles of assent.

  “She’s right. Anything like this happened a year ago, an’ there’d be all sorts of chatter comin’ out of ’Rillo with bounty notices.” Clive went silent, probably cursing off-mic. “This ain’t good.”

  “What are we gonna do if Amarillo’s full of zombies?” asked Jenny.

  “They’re not zombies,” said Tris. “Infected are still biologically alive. They’re as easy to kill as anyone else… easier because they tend to be stupid. They can’t even figure out ladders.”

  “And they strong as shit,” said Mac.

  “Shit isn’t strong,” said Mirabel in a somewhat haughty tone. “It just kinda lays there in a lump, sorta like my brother.”

  “Yo, kid, this is serious. It’s about to get all sorts of fucked up for us,” said Earl. “If Amarillo’s gone dark, it won’t take forever for word ta get out. No Code, and raiders will come swooping right in, tearin’ shit apart. Fuck anything they can catch, kill anything they can’t fuck, and steal anything they can’t fuck or eat.”

  “Whoa,” said Mac. “That’s a bit paranoid. Shit ain’t that bad everywhere.”

  “Maybe not.” Earl paused a tick. “But are you gonna wanna sit out on the highway or head somewhere with a wall… and people.”

  “Hey, vato?” said a new male voice. “What did you say to my daughter? She’s hiding under the damn floorboards saying she doesn’t wanna have sex with anyone.”

  “Smooth, Earl, real smooth,” said Harold.

  Tris repeated a summary of what had been discussed. “Still nothing from Amarillo.”

  “Shit,” said Mirabel’s father.

  “Hey, Jose?” asked Clive.

  “What?”

  “You check your cams yet?”

  “No. I ain’t go to time for playin’ with this shit.” Jose’s voice muted as though he held the mic to his chest but didn’t let off the talk button. “Mira, get on outta there. No one’s comin’ for you.”

  “Everyone, can we get a little quiet in case Amarillo’s tryin’ to break through?” Tris sighed. “If they don’t answer tonight, I’m going to go there and see what’s going on. If… the worst has happened and the place is full of Infected, we have two choices.”

  She let off the button and waited, but no one interrupted.

  “One, we try to keep things quiet while we put together some kind of group and go in there to clean it out. Retake the city and re-establish the Roadhouse network. Someone’s gonna have to stay there and basically run the whole show. No, I don’t want to be in charge. I’m saying that now so no one thinks that’s why I’m suggesting it. I don’t care who does it, but it’s not going to be me. Two, we forget Amarillo, and the Roadhouse as it is now dies. Everyone’s running their own show.”

  “Uhh,” said Harold. “No idea if that would work. Earl’s got a point. Most of us are alone, maybe a wife or a kid… I know Clive’s got two brothers workin’ for him. Think Jose’s the only one with any kind of real manpower ‘cause of that farm. If we start headin’ for the hills and safety of settlements, there goes the infrastructure. Won’t be easy to drive cross-country no more without charging stations. Them little portable shits take all day.”

  “Yeah,” said Earl.

  “I got twelve men.” Jose sounded proud, but nervous. Mirabel whined ‘I don’t wanna come out’ to someone in the background. “We can defend what we got.”

  The radio hissed silence for another five or so minutes. Bee appeared on camera, navigating the hallway past the small rooms, carrying food to Athena. Tris stared down on her from above until she disappeared into Room 18.

  “Amarillo? Is anyone there?” Tris let off the button.

  She bowed her head against the mic, and a tremble of dread started in her arm. About fifteen minutes later, she sat up with a sigh and put the mic down on the table. “Maybe Kevin’s right… Going there won’t accomplish anything.”

  Tris glared at the radio, daring it to make a sound. She considered leaving; twice she leaned forward as if to stand, but hesitated fearing as soon as she got out of earshot, they’d reply. She begrudgingly lifted the mic again. She pictured the antenna at the corner of the roof, wondering if maybe a squirrel tried to eat it.

  “Amarillo?” She let off the button.

  A minute passed.

  “If there’s anyone in Amarillo, please acknowledge.”

  Two minutes passed.

  “… hello,” whispered a young sounding female voice. “Are you still there? Please still be there. Oh, you piece of trash, come on… work.”

  “Hi sweetie,” said Tris.

  “I’m not a kid. I’m just whispering. Please help.”

  Shit. What now? Tris pushed the talk button. “Who are you and what’s going on?”

  “My name’s Cassie. I’m… in Amarillo. I’m sorry it took me so long to reply, but the transceiver took a bullet and I had to Frankenstein a new board from a bunch of old ones.” She sniffled. “I’ve b
een working as fast as I can, hoping you’d still be there if I got the transmitter to work.”

  “Amarillo?!” Tris all but yelled, off the mic. She pushed the button. “What’s going on there?”

  Cassie replied in an even weaker whisper, tinged with a whine of desperation. “Infected… they’re everywhere. Please… we need help. There’s a couple survivors hiding. I don’t know how much longer we can hang on. We… can’t get out. We have a hiding place and we’re safe for the moment, but it won’t last forever. Please tell me you’re real and I’m not hallucinating hearing you.”

  “I’m real.” Tris pictured a dozen proprietors staring at their radios in rapt silence. “How many?”

  “Like hundreds,” whispered Cassie.

  “I mean survivors.” Tris grumbled off-mic. “Hundreds of survivors?”

  “Oh. Sorry. No, Infected. Maybe twenty of us left.”

  “What’s it like outside? Can’t you make it to a car or something?”

  “No.” Cassie sniffled. “There aren’t any cars that work here. Just the solar panel truck, but it’s parked in the warehouse and Mr. Robertson’s got the key. No one’s seen him since it all happened… he might be dead. Please please please send someone to get us out of here.”

  Tris’ gut twisted into a ball of iron. “Cassie… listen to me. I’m coming. I’m not afraid of Infected. Might be a couple days for me to get there. Try to hang on. Keep everyone calm and let them know help is on the way.”

  “Thank you.” Cassie sounded on the verge of crying.

  “Hey, Snow White,” said Harold. “That’s all brave and shit, but I gotta say it’s not smart.”

  Tris stood. “This ain’t about smart. It’s about being human.”

  Kevin glanced up as Bee went by with an empty plate.

  “The girl is experiencing high levels of pain, but she is grateful for the soft bed.” Bee winked. “You’re a lot like Wayne.”

  He watched her disappear into the kitchen before sighing into a chuckle. Yeah… he would’ve been nice to a clueless kid. Sure let me get away with a lot at that age. “Damn. I owe it to him.”

  Tris hurried out of the hallway a hair shy of jogging. “Kevin…”

  He whirled to face her; he’d expected anger and threats trying to keep him from going, or worry and pleading for him to stay. Unprepared for the urgency in her eyes, he managed a series of faces without words.

  She took his right hand in both of hers and looked down. “I’m sorry. Amarillo’s gone. Infected.”

  The room spun. He felt like a kid told ‘you’re an adult now’ and kicked out of his home ten seconds after his fourteenth birthday. Alone in the world and not ready for it. “Dammit. We… we gotta fake it. Now I have to go after the men who killed Wayne. They have to think―the world has to think the Code still works, or we’re in deep shit.”

  “I need to go there.” Her gem-blue eyes showed no sign of hesitation. “There’s survivors. About twenty… I gotta get them out.”

  Kevin grabbed the wall to keep from falling over. “Twenty? That’s it? That’s all that’s left?”

  “That’s what Cassie said, yeah. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  He put a hand on his chest, struggling to breathe. “T-there’s gotta be shitloads of Infected there now. Amarillo had like five-thousand soldiers. It’s… suicide. Those people.” He felt like an asshole, cringed, but said it anyway. “They’re already dead. You can’t go.”

  She folded her arms. “You’re ordering me around?”

  “No… I mean you can’t in the way people can’t breathe water. You just can’t. It’s stupid.” He grasped her shoulders.

  “Don’t go after Wayne’s killers.”

  He bowed his head.

  Tris poked him in the chest. “Don’t tell me that’s not fair because it’s the same damn thing. I don’t want you to run off and get killed.”

  Kevin guided his dizzy-induced fall so his butt landed on the chair behind the counter. “Okay. Look. I’ll come with you to Amarillo, then you come with me to nail those motherf―”

  “Kevin.”

  He looked up at her.

  “You’re as pale as I am and sweating like it’s a hundred and twenty in here. I don’t want you to get sick. I… couldn’t stop the Virus, but I can at least try to help those people.”

  “That’s what this is about then? Unfulfilled savior of the world?” He smiled.

  She narrowed her eyes. “No. I won’t get sick. I… have to try and help those people. I’m not going in there to machinegun down the Infected… I’m going to sneak in and out.” Tris’ eyes flashed wide. “Zara… I’ll bring Zara.”

  “She’s immune too?”

  Tris nodded. “She’s Enclave. We all got vaccines as kids. They figured the Virus would be out in the world once it killed everyone and purified the earth of all the ‘damaged genetics.’ The whole point of it was to ‘hit the reset button,’ so everyone in the Enclave is made immune.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  She brushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t like you going after the Redeemed either, but I know you’re going to. You can’t even sleep.”

  “Fitch and Neeley are willing to go with me. Neeley’s seen the guys.”

  “Yes, you said that already.”

  “Surgical. We’re going after the killers. Not all the Redeemed. We’ll ambush if we have to so we can get out clean. This ain’t about honor; it’s vengeance. It’s the Code. Protects all of us.” He put his hands on her hips. “I’m doing it more for you than for Wayne.”

  She sighed. “Yeah… I’ll take that van. Should be able to fit everyone in there.”

  “You could take Athena’s compact. By the time you get there, you’ll be lucky to find two.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  He looked up at her, his heart pounding against his breastbone. “Wasn’t trying to be. I was trying to make you change your mind.”

  “I’m gonna go tell Zara she’s coming with me.”

  Kevin stood and pulled her into a kiss. “Go in the morning? Let’s make love.”

  She walked backward two steps. “Those people are living minute to minute… We’ll spend a whole day in bed when we get back.” She turned, stopped, and whirled around again. “No. That’s gonna make sure one of us dies. Go upstairs. Be naked in ten minutes. I’ll be right there.”

  Kevin chuckled as she jogged off toward the rental rooms. “Well, that sounded like an order.” He glanced at the two drivers. “Fitch!”

  The man got up and walked over. “Yo?”

  “Mind watchin’ the counter for a few minutes?”

  “Wait, so you got told you ain’t goin’ nowhere, now you’re goin for the make-up sex?”

  “Not exactly. I got told she’d be sick with worry, then she’s going to Infected Amarillo, and now I’m going upstairs for the jinx-breaker sex.”

  “Jinx breaker sex?” Fitch chuckled. “What the hell?”

  “Can I watch?” asked Neeley.

  “No,” said Kevin and Fitch simultaneously.

  “Aww,” mumbled Neeley.

  “She said we’ll do it when we get back. That means one of us dies before we can.” He winked. “This won’t take long.”

  “Heh. So I hear.” Fitch laughed.

  Kevin glared at the ceiling. “You know what I meant.”

  Tris barged in to Room 5. Zara lay naked, tied spread-eagle to the steel bed frame with Marty half on top of her, sound asleep.

  “Oh, shit,” whispered Tris. She ducked her head and backed up. “Sorry.”

  “What’s up?” asked Zara.

  Tris hovered at the door, holding it only an inch open and not looking in. “There’s people stranded by Infected. Will you help me get them out?”

  “Little tied up right now, but maybe…”

  “Why?” asked Tris.

  “If you have to ask, you wouldn’t understand. Loverboy here fell asleep too fast.” She grunted. “Damn. Hey I don’t mind
if you come in long enough to untie me.”

  “I’ll… get Bee. She’s an android… won’t care about that.”

  “What about that hurry of yours?” asked Zara.

  Tris walked in, staring at the floor, and took a seat on the edge of the bed with her back to Zara. Finger-thick black nylon rope wound a couple times around her wrist in a mess of a knot. She picked at it, trying to figure out where it started.

  “So, what’s the situation?” asked Zara.

  Tris pulled, poked, and tweaked at the knot while explaining Amarillo.

  “Tris? Either hurry up with that or wipe my nose for me.”

  “I’m gonna cut this. I can’t figure out where to start.”

  “No… don’t cut it. Took him forever to find comfortable rope.” Zara squirmed.

  Tris sighed. “Sorry. This is our fault.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. I tried to kill you. I’m… surprised he didn’t put a bullet between my eyes. I had a lot of time to think after you guys left me tied up in a closet in my skivvies. You were right. We don’t really live in the Enclave. I guess I always sort of got a thrill out of this kinda thing… but they’d have considered me defective if I told anyone back there.” Zara twisted her right wrist around. “Hey it feels looser.”

  Tris wedged her fingernails into the knot. “You shouldn’t do this out here. It’s not a great idea to be helpless.”

  “What about the whole Roadhouse thing?”

  “Long damn story. Short answer is… it’s gone. It won’t take forever for people to learn Amarillo’s off the map. The only reason anyone respected the Code is out of fear for what would happen to people who break it.” Tris pulled the knot loose.

  Zara whipped her hand out of sight, and a rapid snuffling-nose sound came from behind Tris. “Oh, that feels so damn good. Been itching for hours.”

  Tris stood, keeping her back to the bed. “Can you get yourself out from there?”

  “Probably. Gimme a minute before you go in case I can’t get it. This isn’t exactly a great angle and I’ve got Marty on top of me.” She grunted. “Nope. Can’t reach.” A loud slap followed. “Wake up Marty.”