by Anne Tibbets
We continued by, ignoring them. The man gave us such a look of disgust and hatred that my lungs tightened. Were they going to get violent?
“Is this a test or something?” a woman asked us.
I saw Sonya’s stride falter, but we pressed on. If we stopped or explained, or tried to communicate to the people while we wore our stolen Auberge uniforms, we’d become targets. The plan was to make our way to a back alley two blocks to the east and remove the costumes. But it soon became apparent we weren’t going to make it that far.
I stared straight ahead in an attempt to avoid eye contact with any of the citizens, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed Ric had begun to unbutton his uniform jacket. I did the same.
At the end of the block, two real Auberge soldiers stood on patrol. They ogled and stared at the blackout with just as much fear and confusion as the rest of the people.
When we walked by, one of them called to Sonya. “Our coms are down. Are yours?”
“Affirmative,” Sonya answered, and we passed by.
“What are our orders?” one of the guards shouted after us. “Where are you going?”
“What are we supposed to do?” asked the other. I could hear the panic in his voice.
I almost felt sorry for them.
Almost.
We arrived on the next street. This block was commercial and had rows of shop owners and customers milling around the middle of the road like lost children looking for guidance.
Not waiting until we reached the alley, Bubbs whipped off his cap and tossed it into a trash pile as we walked by. Sonya followed suit. Without further instructions, Ric and I did the same. As we proceeded down the block, we also removed our jackets but left on our undershirts, pants, gun holsters and heavy boots.
Now if anyone saw us on the street, we looked like thugs, instead of Auberge soldiers. But it was no guarantee of safety in a situation that was escalating fast.
We rounded another corner onto Avenue O and 23rd Street, and that was when I saw the first brick fly.
On the other side of the street, an older man wearing shreds of clothing had taken a piece of a broken brick and thrown it through a store window. Ignoring the panicked shouts from the store owner, waves of people rushed into the shop and took everything off the shelves. They scattered into the streets like roaches with armfuls of loot. The shop owner shouted obscenities but made no effort to stop them.
Smart man.
A few meters away from there, the owner of a sausage cart was pried away from his buggy, kicking and screaming. Soon the contents of his cart were stolen and consumed right before his eyes. He pulled and yanked at the horde, crying bitter tears, but it didn’t stop the flow of hungry people dipping their hands into the vat of scalding hot water, snatching the sausages out and stuffing them into their mouths before anyone could stop them.
Finally, unable to stand aside any longer, a couple of Auberge guards joined the melee and tried their best to beat back the crowd using their batons and stun guns. But a group of rowdy teen boys got a hold of their weapons and then both guards were on the ground being kicked within an inch of their life.
I glanced over at Ric in terror as we hurried and weaved our way through the massing crowds on the sidewalks. His face was white with horror.
“We’re never going to make it to the van,” Bubbs shouted at Sonya over the growing roar of the crowd.
She answered, “We’re almost there.”
What was in the van that would save us? I almost blurted that aloud.
Unless Sonya had a helicopter stashed under a tarp, I doubted there was anything that could help. More and more people filled the roads and walkways now, blocking our path and slowing our pace to a crawl. Bubbs and Sonya pushed and shoved them aside to get through, but we were drawing attention and the last thing we wanted was to direct the crowd’s growing fear and anger toward us.
Then that was exactly what happened. An older man with gray hair and a wide nose came at Sonya, grasping at the holster on her hip and screaming something about her gun.
Bubbs roared with rage and lifted his enormous fist toward the man’s face, but Sonya was quicker. With a twist and a perfectly placed kick to the man’s kneecap, he went down on the ground, and we followed Sonya as she and Bubbs skirted around him, hardly losing a step.
Another block down and we’d made it to the alley. There was a large white van parked. The side door slid open, and Minnie popped out.
She had an enormous grin on her face. “Can you believe this? Isn’t it great?”
Sonya laughed and slapped her palm against Minnie’s. “Hell yeah!” she cheered. “I wish we could be a fly on the wall inside HQ right about now. They’re probably shitting bricks.”
Bubbs grunted his agreement. He crawled into the van and came out moments later with a change of clothes for each of us and a large backpack for himself. Sonya sat on the edge of the van to peel off her boots and caught my look of distress. Her smile fell.
“Come on,” she said. “I warned you it was going to get worse before it got better.”
For a moment I could only stare at her. There were so many thoughts going through my head I couldn’t sort them out. We’d almost been mobbed. Hadn’t she seen that? Why was she happy about that?
“I know that’s what you said,” I answered. “But talking about it and seeing it for real is very different. This doesn’t feel like a revolution. This feels crazy.”
“That was the idea,” Sonya said, looking pleased with herself.
Ric slid worn jeans over his boxers. “Revolutions involve armies, strategic attacks, coups, hostile takeovers. This is nothing like that. It’s anarchy, plain and simple.”
“And what’s wrong with anarchy?” Minnie asked, still inside the van.
“I just wish there was a way we could have done it differently,” I said, my mind still reeling.
It wasn’t that I regretted what we’d done, just the turmoil that had erupted in our wake. Innocent people were getting hurt—like the cart and shop owners. They’d done nothing wrong, and yet the crowd was still going after them. Here I thought only the guards would be attacked, but the situation was much more chaotic, out of control. The collateral damage would be immense if this kept up, and I knew it would.
Sonya looked at Ric and me as if we spoke a foreign language. “What did you think was going to happen?” She checked the clip of her Percer. “Did you think that once the power shut down, Auberge would just let the people inside HQ and allow them to take over? Of course they’re going to put up a fight. Of course the people are going to panic. At first. But that’s just what we want them to do. Give them a few days of no power, no food and no Auberge guards to stop them, and they’ll storm HQ and release the detainees from the detention center, and Cat will be on the inside to assume command.”
“Command of what?” Ric argued. “They’ll be nothing left by then.”
“Good!” Sonya let out an exacerbated sigh. “Let’s burn down the whole fucking place and start fresh. Sounds like a great idea to me!”
Ric jerked his head back and turned away. “Jesus, Sonya!”
She stared after him, flinching so slightly I didn’t think anyone else caught it.
But I had. His disapproval hurt her. I saw it in her eyes.
My body tensed.
I never knew she cared that much what he thought. It made me wonder all the more what had happened between them last night.
I felt my tongue thicken.
“But what about the people?” Ric pressed, glaring at her. “Look how they’re reacting! You can’t guarantee they’ll go after HQ. They’ll be too busy going after each other.”
“And my babies are out there in the middle of it,” I added.
Sonya’s face went dark and she zipped her jacket with fi
nality. She stuffed her gun into the back of her pants. “You both knew what this was when you agreed to do it. Can’t take it back now.”
No. I couldn’t.
I hated how tears were threatening to fall, but I couldn’t be glad for what we had done. What I’d done. I felt sickened. This whole situation was a mess.
I wanted to reach out and take Ric’s hand, grab hold of some sort of comfort. But then I remembered the catastrophe of our relationship, and I felt even worse.
Guilt flooded me like citizens of Auberge flooded the streets. I’d never felt more alone in my life and it was entirely my own fault.
Ric snatched his leather satchel from inside the van and slung it over his shoulder, putting his gun inside. Sonya produced a set of keys and tossed them to him. I noticed that Minnie and Bubbs were pulling his motorcycle out the back double doors.
I panicked.
Was he leaving?
The pit of my stomach lurched.
“You ready?” Ric asked.
I blinked. “For what?”
He tilted his head to the side and for a moment, his eyes softened. He looked...normal? As though we were back at the apartment and I’d just unknowingly said something ironic.
But then Sonya spoke, and he turned his eyes toward her and his eyes remained soft. My mouth went dry.
“Like we agreed,” she demanded. “Right, Doc?”
He nodded.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We’re going to get Adena and Clea, then meet Sonya at the gate to East.”
I felt a rush of relief. I wasn’t in it alone, not quite yet, at least. Although, given the unspoken dialogue that was happening between Sonya and Ric, my nerves tingled with uncertainty.
What weren’t they telling me?
“Right. Okay. Good.” I finished getting dressed and put my gun into the back of my pants.
As Ric readied the bike, Sonya’s face set with an odd tinge of anger as she addressed him. “I still think this is a bad idea. You don’t know what’s out there. It’s not safe. You should come with us, then go back to get them after this is all over.”
“I’m not leaving Central without them,” I said.
She turned to me and nodded. “He said you’d say that.” Her eyes darted back and forth between us. “You sure you can handle this alone, Doc? Maybe I should come with you?”
Bubbs’s dark eyes shot wide. “You can’t! We can’t bust the gate without you.”
Was that what they had planned all along? I found it difficult to believe they’d neglected to tell me that by accident. “Is there anything else you’re not telling me?”
Sonya shot me a weird look, but Ric spoke before she could reply.
“They’re headed to East,” he explained. “They’re going through the gate and then through the wall to outside. We’re going to meet up with them after we get the girls.”
“When was this decided?”
“While you were, uh...” Sonya started, then stopped.
Ric finished her sentence. “Sleeping.”
My lips pressed together and my face felt hot. They meant when I’d been alone in the room at the warehouse, sobbing my heart out. This was what they’d been talking about? Our escape plan? I felt a mixture of betrayal and relief and uncertainty. But I let it lie. “We don’t even know what’s outside the walls,” I said.
“It’s got to be better than what’s inside!” Minnie said.
“The gates are probably mobbed already.” Bubbs adjusted the straps on his backpack and glared at Sonya. “If we don’t get moving, we’ll miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” He looked to Ric. “You’ll be fine. Right?”
“Right,” he said.
Sonya didn’t look too happy at the prospect of splitting up, but she also probably knew there was no arguing with me about it. “Fine,” she said. She leaned over toward Ric, who was standing right beside her. “Don’t fuck this up. I’m not going through that gate until you arrive. You understand? Don’t take too long. I’m counting on you.” As if it was second nature, she kissed him on the cheek.
My chest tightened and I forced myself to look away.
“You too,” she added. Then she hugged me stiffly and stepped back before I could say another word. “Come and find me, you promise?”
“Yeah.” I nodded.
She moved to the van and tugged on a crate of guns and ammunition, bringing it toward her, then stuffed several handguns into the waist of her pants.
Ric jingled the keys in his hand and faced me. He looked determined but not unhappy. There was a slight flush to his cheeks. I wondered if he looked that way because Sonya had just kissed him, or because we were leaving the others to save the girls.
There was so much I wanted to say, to ask, but I kept it in. I could see a million words on his lips, too, but none came. It would all have to wait.
“Let’s go get the girls,” he said, straddling the motorcycle.
I stood staring after him for a moment before I followed.
Chapter Nine
The streets of Central didn’t improve the farther we drove. Small mobs of people had collected on every block. Stores, and even a few homes and apartment buildings, were either looted, or burning, or both.
Bedlam.
The bodies of dead and beaten Auberge guards lay in random places, baking in the noon sun. They were scattered from one neighborhood to the next, sometimes tossed atop the piles of garbage on the curb as if that was where they belonged, sometimes in the middle of the street, or strung up on lampposts.
We zipped through the mayhem on the motorcycle, steering clear of as many people as possible. At one point, someone reached out and tried to grab us off the bike, but Ric skidded and slid to the side and we kept going.
Shaken.
After we rounded Avenue N and 15th Street and passed a marketplace, we arrived at the apartment building. Rather than leave the bike out on the street, we rode it straight into the lobby.
I was expecting to be greeted by Shirel holding the shotgun, but the entrance was empty.
My throat constricted as I slid off the bike and began searching.
What if they weren’t here?
The two apartments on the bottom floor had their doors ajar. I checked one, while Ric checked the other. There was no one inside. The place looked as if it had been rummaged through in a hurry. A couple of the dresser drawers were opened and empty.
They’d packed and fled.
I went out into the hall and found Ric. He’d discovered the same as me in the other one.
It was hard to breathe. Panic rose in my chest.
We pounded up the stairs, ignoring the apartments on the second and third floors, and went to ours on the fourth. Our door was open, as well.
I felt my legs weaken and my vision blur as I went inside.
My hands shook as I ran about the apartment. Dirty dishes sat in the sink. A pair of half-empty bottles of milk sat on the kitchen table. I reached out and touched one, accidentally knocking it over in my haste.
It was warm. They had been sitting there awhile.
“Shirel?” Ric called.
I knew it was pointless, but I ran into my room and checked the crib.
Empty.
The walls spun when I realized the girls’ favorite sleeping blankets were gone. At least they had those with them, wherever they were. But still.
Tears stung my eyes. “Oh, my God.”
I came back out of my room and spotted Ric exiting his. He looked as white as a sheet and his eyes were moist.
“I’ll check Shirel’s place,” he grunted.
I nodded, unable to speak. My legs gave out. I slouched on the rough carpet and dug my fingers through the fibers, trying
to keep the floor from spinning.
A part of me knew searching Shirel’s place was fruitless, but we’d never have peace unless we checked. I could hear the pounding of Ric’s feet through the walls. He called Shirel’s name a few times, but then he returned a few minutes later looking all the worse for the effort.
He shook his head.
Thunderstruck, my face contorted and I choked as a sob erupted from the pit of my gut.
My babies are gone.
Missing.
I fought for air as my throat closed.
Ric watched me sobbing on the floor, and swallowed thickly. “I’ll check the basement.”
I nodded again, choking on tears.
He left, pounding down the stairs like a bulldozer. If there were anyone left in the building, they surely would have heard the ruckus we were making. There was no doubt in my mind that if Shirel and the babies were there, they would have come out and found us.
I had told Shirel to protect them, and she’d sworn to take care of them as if they were her own. I tried to take comfort in that, knowing they were together, but my head still pounded to the point that it hurt to blink. I had to remind myself that Shirel was the toughest person I’d ever met. Tougher than Sonya even. And that if anyone would be able to care for my babies and find a safe place to wait out the riots, it was she.
Not even me. But her.
But that didn’t stop my hands from shaking. It didn’t calm my throbbing heart, which beat so hard and thickly it felt as though my ribs would break.
A few moments later, Ric appeared back in the apartment doorjamb. He shook his head again. “Nobody in the basement. I checked the second and third floors. The whole building is deserted.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I wonder where they’ve gone? There’s no note. Nothing. She must have left in a terrible rush.”
Ric nodded in silent agreement.
Then we looked at each other in contemplation. I put words to the moment. “What do we do?”
Ric furrowed his brow. He ran his hands through his shaggy hair and tossed it about as if that would stimulate his brain. “We can’t stay here.”
