Beauty and Dread

by Nicki Huntsman Smith

  “Something is amiss,” Amelia said from the back seat. “Do you see how those people are acting?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know what it means.”

  Amelia’s tranquility had finally slipped. The braided head pivoted left to right and back again, trying to see all around her at once. There was an urgency to her movements and something different about her voice...she sounded surprised.

  “Pablo, I think these people – some of these people, at least – are surrendering.”

  “We can’t take that chance. It could just be a trick.”

  A larger group was approaching the final IED now. It was nesting in a pile of asphalt chunks. Under the road construction debris lay thousands of ball bearings and dozens of sections of razor wire cut for the purpose of transforming into airborne shrapnel.

  This was the most powerful of Tung’s IEDs and intended to be the most lethal. Those that managed to get that far into their town were going to die a painful death.

  “What if they’re defecting? That group to the left, they all have their arms raised. Maybe they’re giving themselves up? Maybe they don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “And maybe that’s what they want us to think!”

  His finger began applying pressure to the final blast button.

  “Think carefully about what you’re about to do. Killing people who are trying to kill us is one thing. Killing people who are throwing themselves at your mercy is something else.”

  Pablo watched the group close the distance between themselves and the final IED. Close the distance to the Toyota. Close the distance to Maddie lying in a hospital bed.

  Wait...was that a child in the middle of the human cluster scrambling toward them?

  The radio squawked again, startling him.

  His finger involuntarily pressed the button.

  The force from the blast felt like an invisible giant’s fist pressing into his chest, sucking out all the air in his lungs and pinning his skull against the driver’s head rest.

  The previous explosions had been an amateur fireworks display by comparison. This one ripped through everyone in a fifty yard radius. The scene through the cracked windshield looked like some nameless devastated Syrian town on the news before Chicxulub.

  “Are you okay, Amelia?” he hollered to the backseat when he could get some air in his lungs.

  “Yes, I think so,” came the reply.

  The radio squawked again. Chuck’s voice now. “I can’t fucking believe it! They’re surrendering here too! We’ve got fifteen in custody.”

  “Twenty-nine here.” Steven’s voice. “Pablo, do you read? We heard the blast. What’s happening there? Dani, do you read? Sam? People, check in!”

  He felt a small hand squeezing his shoulder.

  “You didn’t know.”

  “I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident.”

  Amelia reached over the passenger seat to retrieve the walkie-talkie that Pablo ignored.

  “Amelia here. I’m with Pablo. We just blew the final bomb...an armed group was targeting us. Nobody else is coming through now. What’s happening out there?”

  More static, then Steven’s voice again.

  “The bulk of the invaders from the north surrendered. The others are dead. Has anyone seen Isaiah? Dani, check in!”

  Seconds ticked by as Pablo continued to watch the tiny, finer pieces of death and destruction drift down from the heavens.

  Finally, Dani’s voice. “Roger. I got the bastard.”

  “You killed Isaiah?” Steven demanded through the static.

  “Negative. I have him contained. And he’s all mine. Is that clear? Sam, where are you?”

  Ten heartbeats passed with no response.

  “Sam!” Dani’s voice again, urgent now.

  “Roger!” Sam said. “I’m at the western barricade.”

  “What the fuck are you doing there?”

  “I have someone who wants to talk to you.”

  Chapter 55

  A bedraggled, exhausted subdued gathering of Liberty’s citizens filled most of the benches of the courtroom, which had served as the location for all the town’s business since Steven, a far-thinking planner-prepper-genius, had taken on the unofficial mantle of ‘leader.’ The room wasn’t overflowing because there had been casualties. More than expected.

  Lisa sat on a row in the middle of the room. The invaders hadn’t gotten near their precious greenhouse. She was thinking about the spring planting and what new crops she might try to coax from the sandy soil in the fallow fields on the outskirts of town. The absence of Ed, who was usually at her side gazing down at her with those smitten puppy dog eyes, was a telling pictorial. She didn’t seem to be aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Jack Kennedy, the stoic half of the popular twin brothers, stood by the back wall. His face was streaked with grime and tears. His brother’s body had been found covering a woman knocked unconscious by one of the IED blasts. She told the remaining twin that his brother had died saving her life. Jack knew he would never recover from the loss of half of himself. Having an arm or a leg amputated would be a cakewalk compared to the incompleteness he felt now. He knew he could not remain in the place where his brother had died. Tomorrow he would leave town, even though he had no idea what direction he would go.

  On the row in front of him sat the father of an eighteen-year-old girl named Lorilee. The father hated that his daughter had cast aside her real name in lieu of one that defined her solely by her prowess with a gun. He was the only remaining survivor of their family now that his child was gone, and his pain was too enormous for mere tears to express its magnitude. He was pondering by what method he would end his own life in the morning.

  A dozen other empty places on the benches told similar stories of loss.

  Pablo sat next to Amelia at the back of the room. His face was a picture of anguish after seeing Maddie at the hospital minutes earlier. Her condition was stable but worsening. He hadn’t wanted to leave her side, but Steven had demanded the attendance of everyone who was physically able. Pablo thought if Maddie died while he was sitting at this town hall meeting, he might have to kill the mayor.

  Only Amelia knew the full extent of Pablo’s misery. Neither of them had mentioned those people who might have been surrendering at the southern barricade, but whom Pablo had killed instead with the involuntary movement of his finger on the third detonator. Two tiny shreds of redemption sat next to him on the opposite side from Amelia. Rebecca and Tiffany, the children Pablo had rescued from the cannibals, had been flourishing since their arrival in Liberty. The older girl, Tiffany, had even begun to speak again. Rebecca, the younger, spunkier of the two, had become a common sight around town, asking questions and learning everything she could from anyone who would teach her. She was a special girl with one of the quickest minds Pablo had ever seen. She just might become mayor someday. The knowledge that without his intervention those two little girls wouldn’t be alive was something Pablo clung to when his memory wanted to obsess on the moment he accidentally pressed that final IED button.

  Julia sat a few rows back from where her brother was pacing, gathering his thoughts and waiting for people to settle down so he could get started on the meeting. She was smiling for the first time in days. Dani was alive. Her daughter was alive. She knew her happiness was inappropriate, but she couldn’t stop feeling it. Didn’t really want to try. More than twenty years of guilt was melting away, and for just this moment in time, she would let herself be at peace. Her nephew sat next to her rather than with the remaining members of the security crew. She held his hand, which was still trembling hours later. Her smile faded when she thought of her own recent murderous act and knew he struggled with similar internal conflicts. His sniper rifle had found nine targets, and no matter how justified the taking of lives, in the end, human beings had been killed by his hand. It was a burden many people in the town now shared.

  Natalie perched on one of the front rows. On her rig
ht sat her daughter, who was just as lovely as the mother. They had both been in the basement during the battle, so their tidiness – their clean clothes and neat hair – stood out among the disheveled gathering. The empty place on the bench to Natalie’s left was earmarked for Steven when he finished his speech. She tried to appear sad, as people would expect her to be. She had lost her man, after all. It was difficult to contain the giddiness she felt now that Marilyn and Calvin were both gone. The road to Steven was obstacle-free. She was wondering what would be a seemly waiting period before she initiated her campaign of seduction.

  A voice rose above the din.

  “You have me to thank. If I hadn’t orchestrated the whole thing, we’d have annihilated you all.”

  The woman who spoke, or perhaps she was just a girl...it was difficult to tell because of the grime covering the asymmetrical features; the rat’s nest hair might have contained some gray strands, or it could have been streaked with ash fallout. Woman or girl, she was in custody, of sorts. Because of her deformities, the zip ties around her wrists weren’t secure, but the ones around her ankles were doing an adequate job for the moment. Sam stood beside and just behind her. He gently held one of the skinny biceps in his hand. Because Sam was Sam, there was no animosity in his face, even though the girl-woman he was guarding had stuck a five-inch blade into his belly days earlier. He wore the beautiful smile he always did when he looked at Dani, who was in the center of the room with her own captive.

  Dani had taken great pains to secure Isaiah. Steven had wanted to put him behind bars along with the other prisoners in Liberty’s jail cells, both the hostile soldiers and the ones who had surrendered with claims of seeking sanctuary. The two factions had been separated so the hostiles wouldn’t kill the others. But Dani knew better than to let Isaiah out of her sight even for a moment. He sat on the floor in the center of the converted courtroom. His wrists were tied to each other, then bound again to his bare ankles with commercial-grade zip ties and lots of them. As she stood over him, she pressed the point of her K-Bar below his ear. Minutes earlier, she had allowed Julia to take a peroxide-soaked cloth to her face, followed by what seemed like an entire tube of Neosporin. The discomfort of the doctoring had been secondary to seeing the pained expression on the face of the woman who looked so much like her. Well, used to look, she thought when she studied the older woman’s scar-free skin during her ministrations. She had resisted the urge to ask for a mirror and pointedly ignored any reflective surface since the battle had ended. More important issues than her vanity were at hand.

  “I made this happen!” Dolores squeaked, her lovely voice pitched high from distress. “If I hadn’t converted all those people, they would have been killing you instead of surrendering. Don’t you idiots get that? You have me to thank! You didn’t win this war, I delivered the victory to you. Me! I did that!”

  “She has a point,” Sam said looking at Steven who stood with his arms crossed a few feet away from Dani’s prize prisoner.

  “Yes, and she stuck that point in your belly, Sam,” Dani said.

  “She only stuck me once. She probably could have gotten me a couple more times, but she didn’t.”

  “That’s right!” Dolores said, excited to have an ally. “I only wanted to disable him, not kill him. I didn’t want anything to ruin my plans. I’d been surveilling Isaiah and his army for days and formulating my strategy. I knew there was dissension, and I intended to exploit it. I couldn’t have you two messing it all up.”

  “This is a steaming pile of horseshit,” Dani deadpanned to Steven. “I hope you’re not buying into it.”

  “There’s some truth to her claims,” Steven replied, his eyes on Dolores. “Dozens of people at the northern barricade surrendered to us.”

  “You can’t be considering letting this bitch go free,” Dani said.

  “I am,” Steven replied. “Along with all those who didn’t raise arms against us.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake. That’s just peachy. We’re going to release them like we did those others? So they can gather another army and come at us again? What the fuck is wrong with you people?”

  Despite her agitation, she was careful to keep the blade pressed firmly against Isaiah’s neck. He was gagged too; unable to contribute to the discussion. Maybe it was time to allow him to do so. Maybe she should let Steven and Liberty’s residents see the kind of monsters they would be dealing with for the rest of their pathetic, bleeding-heart lives.

  With a quick flick of her wrist, she sliced through the bandana that was holding the gag in place. When she did so, she allowed the blade to also slice a sizeable portion of his cheek. She contemplated all the tender bits her K-Bar would find before she killed him once and for all.

  “What do you have to say about that, Isaiah, you pedantic, pernicious prick?”

  He grinned. The perfect teeth were crimson from the fresh wound, but when he spoke, his voice was rich and dulcet as always, a gentle, loving father counseling his frightened children. It made Dani want to slice out those vocal chords on the spot.

  “I think all people deserve a second chance. Even such as myself. I see now how wrong I was...how hurtful...and how misguided was my scheme to seize this lovely town and displace all you good people. I only wanted to provide my followers...my children, as it were...with a safe haven. A home where we could start over, rebuild civilization in a moral, ethical, humane way. Our intel – that the town was overrun with debauchery and horrible people committing unspeakable acts – was sadly inaccurate. That vile creature over there,” he indicated Dolores with a nod, “told us as much. She spoke of rape and torture, misogyny and brutality. You can see how I would feel justified in my desire to end such as that.”

  “You lying piece of shit,” said Dani.

  The rich laughter took her back to Texas, to that first time she heard the beautiful sound in her backyard. She felt the tight scarred tissue of Isaiah’s ‘brand’ twinge under her layers of clothing. She thought of her ruined face and the misery she had endured for the sake of his absurd reckoning.

  She scanned the benches, noting the exhaustion, the sadness, the resignation – and something else – in many of the faces that were looking at Isaiah as he laughed. And it caught her completely by surprise.

  They believed him.

  She pivoted, still pressing her blade against Isaiah’s throat, to look at Steven. He was wearing that expression she had grown to hate; that calculating one, like he was trying to decide if Dani had outlived her usefulness.

  Next, she found Julia’s face in the crowd. The older woman gazed steadily back at her. Something passed between them – a frisson of understanding and something else: accord. Encouragement, perhaps. She remembered having a similar experience with her the night Logan had died. Was it because they were of the same blood? Mother and daughter, as Julia believed them to be? She knew exactly what Dani was contemplating.

  Julia gave her daughter the barest hint of a nod.

  That was all Dani needed.

  As she reversed the pivot, she slid the razor-sharp K-Bar from Isaiah’s earlobe across his throat to the other ear.

  Chapter 56

  “I’m sorry, Pablo. There’s nothing more I can do for her. She might live but it’s not likely,” Cate said. “But we can save the baby. I’m convinced of it, if we induce labor now. If we don’t, we’ll probably lose them both.”

  Pablo might have strangled the woman if he had been capable of any kind of movement. As it was, all he could do was stand by Maddie’s hospital bed and hold her cold, pale hand in his. He desperately didn’t want Maddie to hear those words because he knew what her choice would be.

  Her beautiful blue eyes were open. She had heard every word.

  He leaned in close to hear what she was saying.

  “I love you, Pablo. I’m sorry to cause you so much pain, but there is nothing more important to me than bringing this baby into the world. This tiny miracle that we created. Don’t be selfish. I know that soun
ds harsh, but I know how you are. You’d rather risk the life of the baby for the barest sliver of a chance at saving me. That is not what I want. Do you understand me? Tell Cate to induce labor. That’s my decision.”

  “What is she saying?” the stout woman hovered too close. With his free hand he pushed away her intrusive bulk.

  Amelia, who had been standing by the door, stepped up to the woman and tugged her away.

  “I can’t bear it, Maddie.”

  “You can and you will. Do it for me.”

  A sob escaped him.

  “I know. It’s so hard,” she breathed into his ear, “but you can do it. For me, Poet Fellow.”

  “I love you, Angel Girl,” he said. Tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the blanket that covered his Maddie. He watched the moisture being channeled away by the wool fibers as Maddie’s chest rose and fell. Tiny, salty rivers coursed down either side of the chest that still rose and fell. Still rose and fell. For now.

  It was the ultimate sacrifice she asked him to make. And he must do it because even though it was not what he wanted, it was what she wanted.

  He wrenched his face away from hers, prepared to pass on Maddie’s directive to Cate, despite the agony it would cause him to say the words.

  When he turned, both women stood behind him.

  Amelia wore an unidentifiable expression as she looked at Cate; one he had never seen before. She held the pudgy hand in her own tiny one, despite the larger woman’s attempts to release herself from the steely grip. Seconds ticked by as Pablo tried to make sense of what was happening through his mental fog of anguish.

  Something was passing between the two of them, but what it could be, Pablo had no clue.

  Finally, the spell cast between the two women vanished. Abruptly, Amelia released Cate’s hand, like it was burning her skin. Then with the same continuous motion, she reached behind her back and slid her knife from its sheath. Her next movement was to plunge the blade under the heavy, shelf-like bosom of Liberty’s nurse practitioner.