Seeds

by Chris Mandeville

  “Yeah,” the bigger man said. “That’s her.”

  “Take them back to the lobby,” Pascal told Linus. “I may have need of them later.”

  “Will that be all, sir?” Brandt asked.

  “Not from you, Brandt,” Pascal said. “You and Mia stay. The rest of you are dismissed.”

  While the other soldiers exited the room, Pascal tried to read Brandt. The man held his shoulders back and looked Pascal in the eyes, but he seemed vaguely nervous, which gave Pascal pause. Was he hiding something?

  But Brandt didn’t waver under Pascal’s scrutinizing stare, so Pascal dismissed his suspicions, attributing the man’s nerves to the adrenaline of the pursuit, or perhaps the thrill of being singled out by his commander.

  “Chancellor—Pascal—please, let me explain,” Mia said. Her voice was low and calm, but her eyes gave away her fear.

  Pascal decided to let her continue speaking for the moment, curious how she’d handle herself, what she might say. It would all be lies, of course, but watching her try to wriggle out from under his thumb might prove amusing.

  “When I was at World Waste,” Mia continued. “You remember when I went out walking on my own, after you took me on my first train ride?” She looked at him coyly, obviously hoping to remind him of their past intimacies, but the stench of the refuse wafting from her clothing spoiled the effect.

  “Yes, you went walking on your own,” Pascal murmured.

  “I saw those collectors, Frank and Roger.”

  Nice technique, Pascal thought. Laying the truth as groundwork before peppering it with lies. He nodded, encouraging her to continue.

  “It was my own fault,” she said. “I wasn’t thinking when I told them I was a Ford Girl.”

  Pascal nodded again, furrowing his brow as if he were concerned. Another nice move on her part, saying it was her fault. It was a terrible waste that she’d betrayed him. She could have gone far.

  “They, they cornered me.” Her pitch rose as she built to her punch line. “Then they, they violated me. Both of them.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “I know I should have reported it, but I didn’t want to ruin your important meeting with Director Gould. I was wrong not to have told you.” She blinked rapidly, and Pascal thought she might produce actual tears. “Pascal, I—”

  He slapped her, and she cried out, staggering backward.

  He’d seen and heard enough. He turned his attention to Brandt. “You’re to be commended for bringing in our little outlaw.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Brandt said.

  Pascal enjoyed the venomous glare that Mia turned on Brandt, but the man didn’t seem to notice or care. This was a bit of silver lining—Brandt standing by, unflinching and unflappable. It was a small consolation to have found an asset in him, while losing someone who could have been so much more.

  “How is that girl of yours?” Pascal asked him. “Justine, isn’t it? I understand congratulations are in order. She’s expecting a child, correct?” Pascal enjoyed the surprise on Brandt’s face.

  “Yes, sir. She’s well, sir, thank you.”

  “I’ve had my eye on you, Brandt. Keep up the exemplary work and you’ll go far,” Pascal said, feeling all the more satisfied this business was being conducted in front of Mia. Her discomfort was palpable.

  “Brandt, you bastard—”

  Linus burst in, crashing into Brandt. The two tumbled into Mia. There was a scuffle. A gunshot. Brandt propelled Mia backward, slamming her into the wall. He let go and she slumped to the floor.

  “Is anyone hurt?” Brandt asked, pointing his handgun at Mia’s inert form.

  Pascal was stunned, but realized he was unharmed. “Linus, are you hurt?”

  “I, I’m fine,” Linus stammered. “What happened?”

  “When we collided, Mia went for my gun,” Brandt said without taking his gaze off Mia. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

  The doorway darkened as armed men poured into the room. “Sir? Sir? Are you okay? We heard a shot.” The room was abuzz with commotion as the security forces surrounded Pascal, their weapons searching for a target.

  “Stand down,” Pascal said. “Officer Brandt discharged his weapon protecting my son from her.” He pointed to where Mia lay on the floor.

  Brandt holstered his weapon and stepped aside, allowing a medic access to her.

  “She’s unconscious, but does not appear to have been shot,” the medic said.

  “When she went for my gun, I must have knocked her out,” Brandt said.

  “Thank God you did and no one else was hurt,” Pascal said, his heart rate slowing. “Medic, take her to the Tank and notify me when she regains consciousness.”

  “Yessir.”

  “Brandt, my son and I are in your debt,” Pascal said after Mia had been taken away. “In recognition for your actions, I’m promoting you. You’ll be my personal deputy, a job that comes with a great number of perks, including a house. Bring Justine to see Mr. Gomez immediately so you can get married and move in. You have the remainder of today to get settled, then report to me for duty first thing tomorrow.”

  “Thank you very much, sir.”

  “See you in the morning.” Pascal shook Brandt’s hand. The man was an asset indeed.

  Sixty-Eight

  Lost Angeles, a junkyard

  Reid and Justine jumped out of the car and ran toward Brandt.

  “Where’s Mia?” Reid demanded.

  “Get back in the car. We leave now,” Brandt said.

  “Honey, what happened?” Justine asked. “Where’s Mia?”

  “The Tank.” Brandt shook his head. “The whole city’s been looking for her. I wish I’d gotten wind of it on the way, or we might have made it back here. As it was, we were surrounded outside the Grand.”

  “How’d you get away?” Reid asked.

  “Pure luck. Since all cops were put on alert to find Mia, everyone assumed I was bringing her in. Though I’m sure Mia thinks I betrayed her.”

  “How do we know you didn’t?”

  “Because I’m not here with a team to take you in,” Brandt said, coming toward Reid with his chest puffed out. “Now get in the car.”

  “Oh my God,” Justine said. “Mia will tell them where we are.”

  “If she hasn’t already,” Brandt said. “I don’t know how your grandfather is withstanding interrogation, but Mia can’t.”

  “They have Tinker?” Reid asked.

  “I didn’t see him, but I heard they’ve had him since yesterday afternoon. That’s a long time for anyone to hold out. He must be a tough old guy.”

  It had already been too late when Mia left. They’d had Tinker all along. Now they had Mia too.

  “Now you know what happened to your grandfather,” Brandt said. “Let’s get the hell out of here. You gave your word.”

  “That was before they had Mia,” Reid said, squaring up to Brandt.

  “There’s nothing you can do for her,” Brandt said. “We’ll all be dead if we don’t go.”

  “I’ve had it with you acting like you know everything, dictating what we do. Mia and Tinker are alive, which means there’s still a chance to save them.”

  “Reid,” Justine said. “Brandt knows what he’s talking about. Blades will be here any minute. What good would that do Mia or your grandfather? We need to move.”

  “Running now’s our only chance,” Brandt said, steering Justine to the car.

  “I said we need to move, not run.” Justine climbed into the back seat. “It’s dark enough to move to another hiding place.”

  “I’m all for that,” Reid said, getting in the driver’s seat.

  “No, someone will see us. Everyone’s looking for this car. Once we’re in the open, we have to keep going, out of Lost Angeles,” Brandt said.

  “They might see us, but they can’t catch us.” Reid started the car. “Let’s find a safe hiding place, then come up with a rescue plan.”

  “How could we live with ourselves if we didn’t at
least try?” Justine said.

  Sixty-Nine

  Newport Harbor, aboard the pirate ship Majestic

  “I should be drunk for this,” Markoff said. “On the other hand, cider got me into this.”

  “We shouldn’t be in the Tank for long.” Nikolai looked around, comforted by how few boats accompanied them. Kennedy needed numbers on the southern pirates at San Clemente, which meant that they—he, Markoff, Olexi, and a handful of Markoff’s crew—had to rely on guile.

  “It would be better to avoid the Tank altogether,” Markoff said. “Are you sure this son of yours is worth it? I have a son I wouldn’t mind giving you in his place. It’s not too late.”

  “We’re in range to be seen,” called the watch from the crow’s nest.

  “Now it’s too late,” Markoff muttered. “You do know they want my head, right?”

  “But you’re sure they won’t shoot?” Nikolai felt exposed standing at the bow.

  “Pascal wants me alive, at least at first,” Markoff said. “They’ll take our emissary to Pascal and be back to put us in the Tank before you can say Jack Sparrow. I guarantee it.”

  Nikolai wished they’d figured a way for Olexi to serve as emissary, but it was too risky to use someone who didn’t have any cutting scars, so they’d chosen Bud, the recent defector.

  The Majestic turned to port, rounding the crumbling seawall marking Newport Harbor.

  “There she blows,” Olexi said, as Nikolai himself spotted the Belle. “Her mast looks true.”

  “She’ll be in good condition,” Markoff said. “Otherwise no one would trade me for her.”

  It made sense, but didn’t relieve Nikolai’s concern. They couldn’t risk the Belle lagging behind when bullets were flying, which they surely would be, so if she didn’t appear seaworthy, they’d have to leave her.

  Nikolai looked at his bindings. He’d have been fooled himself if he hadn’t known they were rigged. The blouse of his trousers obscured the pistol in his boot, but the feel of it was reassuring. The knife in his waistband, too. He glanced at Olexi and Markoff who were similarly bound and armed. He sure as hell hoped this worked.

  Seventy

  Lost Angeles

  Reid drove as fast as he dared.

  “Turn right. Here,” Brandt shouted.

  Reid turned, wheels squealing. “You have to give me more warning.”

  “Fine. Go straight another three blocks, then turn left.”

  Reid juked around cars and debris in the road.

  “So far so good,” Justine said from the back seat. “I haven’t seen a soul.”

  “That doesn’t mean no one’s seen us,” Brandt said.

  “Hang on.” Reid slowed a little going into the left turn, then as they rounded the corner he stomped hard on the brake pedal.

  “What the—” Brandt braced his hands against dash as they screeched to a stop.

  In the middle of the road, a small cluster of people stood around a fire.

  “What do we do?” Reid asked.

  “It’s too late to do anything but keep going,” Brandt said.

  Reid moved his foot to the gas pedal and went around the people. “I thought you said no one lived this far out.”

  “Except for outcasts like them,” Justine said.

  “Will they report us?” Reid asked.

  “They won’t go out of their way, but they’ll talk if confronted,” Brandt said. “Hopefully, Blades won’t come across them.”

  An hour later, Reid sat in the driver’s seat gazing across the enormous parking lot at Anaheim Stadium. Brandt said the locals avoided the place, and Reid supposed he understood. A game had been in progress when the sunstorm hit. There’d been panic in the stands. Mass casualties. Bodies everywhere. Now it was an open tomb thought to be haunted, making it a great place to hide.

  A quiet had fallen over the car now that they’d settled on a plan. Justine was stretched in the back, snoring softly. Brandt turned sideways in the passenger seat to watch her.

  “Let her sleep a few more minutes, okay?” Brandt asked.

  “Sure.”

  A few more minutes wasn’t much for them, but he didn’t know about Mia. He tried not to imagine the horrors being inflicted on her, and Tinker too. How long could they withstand it? He wished he could tell them it was okay to talk, that he’d moved the car. Then again, as long as they held a secret—even one that was no longer valid—that leverage might keep them alive.

  He knew attempting a rescue was foolish. He told himself to leave Mia and Tinker behind, to get out of Ellay with Justine and Brandt, to go get seeds while he still could. That’s what Tinker had told him to do. It was the smart thing to do. But he couldn’t make himself.

  “Okay, we shouldn’t wait any longer,” Brandt said. “Justine, honey? Time to wake up.”

  Reid’s stomach flip-flopped as he thought about the thin line they planned to walk. One false step would land them in hell.

  They left the car in the parking lot and set out on foot. A few blocks away, they found a house that had everything they needed, from food and water to the perfect disguise.

  “Are you okay, Justine?” Reid asked. She looked pale.

  “Nervous, I guess.”

  It didn’t sound like nerves. It sounded like pain. “Nothing else?” Reid prompted.

  “Honey,” Brandt said, “if there’s something wrong, you’ve got to tell me.”

  “I’m fine.” Justine winced. “I don’t want to mess up the plan.”

  “Are you cramping?” Reid asked.

  “A little,” Justine said.

  “What about spotting? Have you noticed any blood?” Reid asked.

  “Not much.”

  “Will you let me examine you, just to be safe?”

  “What are you, a doctor?” Brandt said.

  “A medic. I know what I’m doing.”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” Justine said, wincing as she rose from a chair. Brandt took her arm and led her to the couch.

  “Lie back and try to relax,” Reid said. “I’m going to feel your belly.” He was gentle as he placed his hand overtop her overalls, but she flinched anyway. “How far along?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Have you ever felt the baby move?”

  Justine shook her head. “Is that bad?”

  “Not necessarily. Most likely it’s because you’re still early in your pregnancy.” Reid palpated the abdomen, trying to identify the top of the fundus without causing her discomfort. He couldn’t say for certain how far along she was, but if he had to guess, maybe ten weeks or so. “Does it hurt where I’m pressing?”

  “No. The pain is all across the lower part. My back, too.”

  “What’s wrong? What is it?” Brandt asked.

  Reid looked over at Brandt whose face had drained of blood. “Don’t worry. It’s probably nothing.”

  “It doesn’t feel like nothing,” Justine said. “Be straight with me. Is this a miscarriage?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” It was true that he didn’t know for certain, but it was likely a miscarriage. So many pregnancies were lost in the early months, even in the Before. But now, the odds were definitely not in her favor. “You should try to prepare yourselves for the possibility.”

  “No, you have to do something,” Brandt said. “We can’t lose this baby.”

  “There’s not much we can do, other than rest,” Reid said. “And wait.”

  “There’s got to be something. Please,” Justine said, grabbing Reid’s arm.

  “There is one thing we sometimes do back home,” Reid said. “But there are side effects that can be dangerous.”

  “What is it?” Brandt asked.

  “Aspirin.”

  “Painkillers?” Brandt said. “To make her feel better?”

  “It could ease the pain, but that’s not why we give it,” Reid said. “There’s a theory that a high level of toxins in the mother—like we get from all the canned food—can reduce bl
ood flow to the fetus and cause a miscarriage. If this is what’s happening, aspirin could help by increasing blood flow to the baby.”

  “I’ll find some.” Brandt bolted down the hall.

  “But there are side effects?” Justine asked.

  “You said you’re spotting?”

  Justine nodded.

  “Aspirin thins the blood. It can make you bleed more.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Reid. What would you do if it was your wife, your baby?” Justine looked at him, eyes pleading.

  Reid was about to give her the stock non-answer he gave his patients. But he hesitated, imagining it was Kayla asking. What if it was Brian’s baby—the only baby his brother would ever have? “I’d do it. I’d give the baby every possible chance.”

  Brandt came back. “I found some.”

  Reid read the label on the bottle. “This is the right stuff, but don’t rush into a decision.” He was second-guessing himself now. He didn’t want to be responsible for her decision. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

  “I feel a little better now,” Justine said. “But if it gets worse, how much do I take?”

  “Only one, but you don’t need to worry about that. If you decide you want to take it, I’ll be right here with you,” Reid said.

  “No, you two have to go,” Justine said. “The sooner the better.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone,” Reid said.

  “We’re not leaving you,” Brandt said.

  “Listen, I hope I don’t lose this baby, but either way, I want to go home. To raise this baby, or the next one. So hurry up and go rescue Mia so we can get out of here.”

  “One of us should stay,” Reid said.

  “The plan only works if you both go,” Justine said. “I don’t want to live in this hellhole anymore, Brandt. Do you?”

  “No, but—”

  “Then go. I’ll be fine.”

  Brandt took a deep breath, then nodded. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Are you sure?” Reid asked.

  “We’re sure,” Justine said, taking Brandt’s hand.

  Reid went outside to let them say goodbye in private, and he couldn’t help wondering about Kayla and her baby, wondering if he’d ever make it home again.