Redaction: Dark Hope Part III

by Linda Andrews

  “Look it’s the Ice Princess and her sidekick, Tiny Chan.” Smirking, the short man strutted forward. “You know karate, Tiny Chan?”

  Tina moved in a tornado of hair and legs, sweeping in a roundhouse that stopped when her foot connected with the man’s temple. “Tae Bo, asshole.”

  He swayed for a minute before dropping to the ground.

  “You’ll regret that, bitch.” Tossing aside his victim, the second man charged.

  “One of us will.” Audra slammed the heel of her palm into his sternum. It could kill some. Others would only have the breath knocked out of them. Maybe he’d be the former.

  He gasped for breath.

  “Come on.” She shouted to the woman.

  The woman pulled yellow and gold necklaces from her pocket and threw them at the man’s feet. Then she pushed him.

  He stumbled forward, stepping on the beads. His feet shot out from under him, and he landed hard on his back.

  “Asshole.” The woman leapt over him and raced out the door.

  The girl had spunk. Audra chased her, Tina at her side.

  Her friend pumped air and bounded a few steps. “Did you see that? I kicked his ass.”

  “I told you, you could do it.” Audra frowned.

  The girl clutched her side and gasped for breath.

  “Are you okay?” Audra wrapped her arm around the girl’s waist.

  “I’m not quite recovered from the anthrax.” Her mouth hung open but she kept moving.

  “You’re Doctor Spanner’s niece, aren’t you?”

  “Sunnie.”

  “I’m Audra.” While she didn’t hold out her hand, she clung to proper manners. It always helped counter the adrenalin rush.

  “I know.” Sunnie licked her lips and fumbled with a black bag on her belt. “I got a camera…for you. My aunt…”

  Doctor Spanner hadn’t forgotten. Audra straightened. Not that she thought their leader would. The Doctor’s ability to make everyone feel as if they mattered was only one reason why she should remain in charge. With her free hand, Audra accepted the camera. “Thank you.”

  Sunnie nodded. “I can…help with editing…I used to… set up websites. Also I…have extra cards.”

  “That would be great.” She hoped the girl stopped talking soon. Her skin was awfully pale. “We don’t really know what we’re doing, so a professional would be a great help.”

  Sunnie smiled. “There’s a phone…in the next pasture. We can use it…to call the security forces.”

  Two left turns and one flimsy gate later, they entered an open space with a handful of boulders studding the wall-to-wall grass and clover. A black phone hung on the wall.

  The girl staggered to a rock and collapsed on it. “That was so cool. I wish I could do that.”

  Tina performed two more roundhouses on the way across the grass to the phone. “Eat shoe, asshole.” She threatened her imaginary opponents. “No one picks on Tina Tsao.”

  Audra sighed. She’d created a monster. “We’re hoping to start a self-defense class. You should join it.”

  “Thanks. I will.” Color returned to her cheeks. “Guess they’re regretting it now, huh?”

  A memory whispered through Audra’s mind. A bang on the door. Rotting corpses. A threat of retribution. Her legs wobbled then buckled. No. No. It couldn’t be. “Was one of their names Cole?”

  “Are you all right?” The girl left her perch to brace Audra’s shoulders.

  “Was one of their names Cole?”

  “Yes. The other was named Ralph, I think.” She inhaled. “They didn’t make any effort to disguise their names. You think that means they were going to kill me?”

  “I—I don’t know what to think.” Cole and Ralph. Ralph and Cole. Two of the men who’d kidnapped them in Payson had those names. Could it be a coincidence? Given what the two men were holding a woman against her will and planned to do horrible things to them, she didn’t think so.

  Her kidnappers had not just survived the meltdown.

  They were safe in the mines with her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Two dozen fresh eggs. Manny swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth. God, he’d love an omelet. With a little cilantro from his garden and some diced onions, he’d be in culinary heaven. He drew the wagon to a stop when the tunnel branched and checked his bounty.

  At the bottom of the slops barrel, white ovals nestled in his jacket.

  It would be so easy to take them back to his room and scramble them. His family would enjoy the treat. All of them except Justin. Could his friend really have teamed up with the vegetable thieves? It certainly looked like it, especially since he’d disappeared after Manny had told him about the Sergeant-Major’s investigation.

  He tugged on the wagon, pulling it to the tunnel on his right.

  What would happen when the Sergeant-Major found Justin? The soldier wouldn’t hurt him, would he? Manny was sure his friend would have a good reason for what he’d done.

  Like he wanted an omelet so bad he could practically taste it?

  He shushed his conscience. He wasn’t really going to hoard the eggs or reserve them only for his family. They belonged to everyone.

  Too bad there wasn’t enough for everyone to get one.

  Of course, the eggs could be stretched to go farther. Cakes would be nice, but soup was more practical. Egg drop soup would be divine.

  Would Chef Jardin approve?

  She was stingy with their reserve supply of real food. It had taken him hours to convince her to open their stores of bouillon cubes and soy-chicken meat to complement the chicken they’d been given last night.

  And then she hadn’t wanted to add any of his spices.

  Not even a single thyme leaf. Despite her assurances, he refused to believe everyone’s taste buds were that simple. His certainly weren’t. Maybe when he visited his garden today, he’d pick some spices for his meals. As for the eggs…

  He paused at the next fork in the passage. Right lead to the kitchen. Left to the pantry. Since he was close, he might as well check if they had the ingredients for the soup.

  A short walk later, he paused in front of the metal wall bolted to the rock face. Water gurgled from the PVC pipes cemented under the wall before streaming into the canals on both sides of the hallway. Storeroom ten was spray-painted in red on the green surface.

  He stared at the black key pad next to the door. What was his passcode again? He tried his birthday month and year. The red light remained lit. Okay, that wasn’t it. He raked his fingers through his hair. Just when had he been in here last? Two weeks? Three? He snapped his fingers.

  Four. Chef had taken over the inventory when she’d arrived with Brother Bob and that bunch of actors. He tried his parents’ anniversary month and day.

  The light remained red.

  Had Chef locked him out? Nah, she used him as an errand boy, claimed he needed to pay his dues. So long as she taught him all those fancy cooking secrets, he’d be her peon. He chewed on his thumbnail. Now, what could his password be? Something silly.

  What had he been thinking when the Sergeant-Major had asked him to look after their food stores?

  Manny snorted. He’d been thinking he was lucky to be alive, to have made it to Colorado without losing the niños. He snapped his fingers. That’s it. Lucky. He typed in four sevens.

  The green light blinked on and the lock clicked. Grabbing the clammy metal, he pushed down on the handle and pulled the door open. He braced his foot on the threshold and eyed the eggs. No way would he risk having those babies get stolen.

  A wheel squeaked when he pulled the wagon inside. The door slammed shut with a hollow thud. By the brightness of a single burning bulb, he found the switch on the wall and flicked it. He blinked until his eyes adjusted to the bright light and rubbed his hands together.

  Now, what went into egg drop soup besides eggs? Obviously, chicken bouillon, water and maybe some cans of mixed vegetables. Celery and onions were out of the quest
ion but he might be able to find them in salt form. But where?

  Turning, he faced the room. Cinderblocks and plywood shelves kept the cans and bags of foodstuffs off the damp floor. Yellowed paper labeled each row. Good, Chef hadn’t messed with his system. Crossing to the first row, he lifted the clipboard from its nail. The attached pen swung back and forth, tapping his pant leg.

  Flipping through the pages, he searched for onion salt. Aisle six, back. He smiled. Easy peasy. Returning the inventory, he walked down the front of the room until he reached the sixth row then pivoted left.

  His shoe collided with a can. It shot away like a slapped hockey puck and pinged off the stone wall. Manny stooped to pick up the can of tuna in water. What the hell? It was open.

  “Who’s there?”

  He glanced up.

  A figure sat on sacks of rice. His blanket slid down his skinny frame and puddled on his lap.

  Manny blinked. “Justin?”

  “Christ Manny.” Justin rubbed his eyes. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?”

  “Me? I work here.” Manny gestured to the storeroom. “Well, the kitchens anyway.”

  “Oh.” Justin swung his legs down the sacks of flour. “Right. I knew that.”

  “What are you doing in here? And how did you get in?” The door had been locked, hadn’t it? Manny glanced behind him but the answer wasn’t written on the metal.

  Justin picked at a pimple on his chin.

  Setting the can on the nearest shelf, Manny inched toward his friend. “Justin, the Sergeant-Major is looking for you. He thinks you’re involved in the vegetable stealing.”

  “I am. I mean…” Justin rubbed his fingers on his jeans.

  “Start at the beginning.”

  Justin’s thin shoulders bowed. “I wanted to help Doctor Spanner. She’d been so kind to me when my grandfather was dying. She even kept her promise to look after me when he died. I mean she’s been busy running everything, right?” He flapped his arms before they collapsed at his sides. “So when this stealing stuff came up, I thought I’d look around to see if I could find out anything. I mean, no one notices me anyway.”

  Manny sat on the stack of rice next to him. His friend didn’t sound as if he was working for the bad guys. In fact, it seemed to be the opposite. “Did Doctor Spanner ask you to look into the vegetable stealing?”

  A wedge of Justin’s hair slapped his forehead. “No. But she couldn’t find a job for me. Everyone has a job but me. Even Sunnie takes care of the animals. I mean, she didn’t say so but I’m pretty much worthless. The only thing I could offer is hunting, but everything out there is glowing in the dark.”

  Manny wouldn’t want to cook, let alone eat whatever came from the outside. Not that his friend wanted to hear that. “You’re not worthless. I’m sure there’s lots of stuff you could do.”

  Justin rolled his eyes. “I know that. But I didn’t want to work in the shit factory and I’m sick of school. I mean what’s the point, really?”

  “Yeah.” Manny’d hated school. Geometry and history didn’t have much to do with cooking. “How did you end up…?”

  He stopped himself from saying the words. If what Justin said was true, he was more secret agent than vegetable wrangler.

  “With the douchebags? That asshole Benedict caught me following him. I gave him some sob story about my grandfather dying and Doctor Spanner doing nothing, and the idiot bought it. Next thing I knew, I was putting on a bunny suit, breaking into greenhouses and stuffing vegetables down my back.”

  Outside? He’d gone outside? Manny swallowed hard. “Weren’t you scared?”

  “Nah.” Justin shrugged. “No one really notices me unless it’s to boss me around.”

  “I meant going outside.”

  “They’d told me the radiation wasn’t that bad. That Doctor Spanner was just lying to control us. It wasn’t until you told me about the radiation thing that I realized they lied. I am sorry Manny, for getting you sick yesterday.”

  Manny waved away his words. “I’ll be fine.”

  He set his hands on his stomach. He felt fine. Perhaps, he hadn’t gotten such a high dose. The Sergeant-Major had cleaned up the mess pretty quick.

  “I took our suits back to the entrance, cleaned ‘em and put ‘em back. There won’t be any more people getting sick because of me.” Justin tucked his arms under the blanket and shivered.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, when I first started, I thought I’d be a hero and save Doctor Spanner but…” Justin shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “You have to tell the Sergeant-Major.” Manny pounded on the rice bag with his fist. “He’ll know what to do.”

  “They’ll send me outside to die. Stealing potatoes is worse than stealing chickens.”

  “He wouldn’t do that.” The soldier was a good man. And Justin could help him get to the bad guys. “I know. You can turn state’s evidence, like on TV. You’ll have immunity.”

  “Benedict and his band of crazies will kill me if I go against them.” Justin stuffed a corner of the blanket into his mouth and bit down.

  Manny wouldn’t give up. Not yet. There had to be a solution. “The soldiers will protect you. I know they will.”

  “How? We’re trapped down here.”

  How? His thoughts remained empty. Heck, he was just a cook. The military would think of something. They had access to doctors and other smart people. Now he had to convince his friend.

  Snot bubbled from Justin’s nose and spittle connected the blanket to his mouth. “I don’t want to die, Manny.”

  “You won’t.” He nudged him. Perhaps there was a way around Justin giving himself up to David. “Why don’t you go to Doctor Spanner? She can help you. She’s the person in charge.”

  Justin wiped his nose on the blanket. “You think she’d help?”

  “Why wouldn’t she? She promised your grandfather that she’d look out for you.” Manny nodded. “The bad guys will be punished not you. You’ll see.”

  “If the bad guys are kicked out, I’ll be safe, won’t I?”

  “Yep.” Manny slid off the rice. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  Justin folded his blanket and stuffed it between the flour and wall. “I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

  Manny sighed. There could be trouble, and he needed to consider the niños. They still needed him. “If you change your mind, just call. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  “You might want to take those.” Justin jerked his head to an open flour sack. “There’s some tomatoes and potatoes left.”

  Eggs, potatoes and tomatoes. Today was a blessing. Manny skipped across the room and peered inside the burlap. Red tomatoes filled the bag halfway. Potatoes nearly spilled out of the next bag. He licked his lips. “We’re gonna eat tonight.”

  He lugged the potatoes to the wagon and lowered them into the empty slops bucket. Justin carefully set the tomatoes on top.

  “I’ll go out first.” Manny circled the wagon so it pointed to the door. “Make sure the coast is clear.”

  “Knock three times if it is; twice if it isn’t.”

  “‘Kay.” Using his hip, he pushed on the bar and the door popped open.

  “Emmanuel!”

  Manny groaned. Not Chef. “Hide.”

  Justin ran to the back of the room and disappeared around a shelf.

  “I was checking supplies.” Manny yanked on the wagon. It cleared the threshold. Slowing, he waited for the door to shut. “Mrs. Bancroft gave me two dozen eggs and I thought we could make egg-drop soup for tonight’s treat.”

  “Eggs?” Chef licked her lips and strode closer. “You have eggs?”

  Manny lurched forward. He had to stop her from entering the storeroom. If she exposed Justin, his friend could be in serious trouble. “Two dozen. I remember you saying how soup made everything go farther, so I thought egg drop soup.”

  He crossed his fingers. Chef hadn’t said an
y such thing. Mildred Dobbins had. But because it was true, he was sure Chef would agree.

  Frowning, Chef Jardin peered into the open drums. “You have more than eggs. Is that tomatoes?”

  “Yes, and potatoes.” Oh, crap. How was he supposed to explain that without exposing Justin? “I found them in the storeroom.”

  “I see.” Her eyes locked with his. “Do you suppose these are the missing vegetables?”

  Manny resisted the urge to look away. She can’t learn he was lying. Justin’s life depended on it. “I think so. I mean, I didn’t put them in there, and if you didn’t…”

  “I did not.”

  “Then that kinda leaves those jerks who stole ‘em in the first place.” He tugged the wagon into the dining room. How long would Justin stay inside the room? How was he going to get away from Chef long enough to let his friend out?

  “Have you told the general of your find?”

  How could he? She’d been there when he’d come out. Still, it might be time to change the subject. He’d already told someone, the wrong someone, that the Sergeant-Major was undercover. He couldn’t risk spilling the beans again. “No. I just found them.”

  She patted his arm. “I shall tell him. I would not want you implicated in their theft.”

  Why would he be implicated? He’d done nothing wrong. “I—”

  “I know of your record, Emmanuel.” She patted his arm. “I understand that those with a record, like you, are always the first to come under suspicion.”

  Shit. She knew about his juvie record? Not that it mattered, the Sergeant-Major would believe him. Manny bit his tongue and stopped the wagon by the serving line. But she couldn’t know about that. For all she knew, the soldier no longer was one of the good guy. “Thanks.”

  Chef picked the phone up. “Why don’t you collect the bouillon cubes and cans of mixed vegetables while I call.”

  “Sure.” He jogged from the room. Then he could also let Justin out and no one would know he’d ever been there.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Dirk strutted into the community lounge. Bucket seats and truck benches were arranged around coffee tables made from tailgates welded to ammunition boxes. A pathetic assortment of books filled the spaces on the cinderblock and plank bookcases. Two DVDs lay on the neighboring bookshelf.