by P. T. Hylton
He nodded demurely as if she’d paid him a huge compliment. The he pulled out her chair and gestured for her to sit.
When they were all seated, Fleming poured from the chilled bottle of wine on the table. They were situated near the edge of the roof, and they had a perfect view of one of the busiest streets in Sparrow’s Ridge. Men and women in nondescript, government-issued clothes filed home after a long day of difficult labor.
Alex felt a twinge of guilt prickling her stomach. Here she was, sitting up here drinking fancy wine while they trudged back to their overcrowded quarters. Most of them would never even taste the worst-quality wine, let alone the good stuff she was sipping.
“So,” Fleming said, interrupting her thoughts, “I hear congratulations are in order. The daylights worked.”
Alex nodded. “They did. However, we’ve also noticed an increase in vampire activity in the other parts of the prison. The human presence seems to be attracting them. And they’re learning. Only yesterday, they—”
Fleming held up a hand, cutting her off. “Let’s make a deal, you and me. I know your thoughts on Resettlement, and you know mine. What do you say we table the Resettlement debate for tonight and just enjoy our meal together?”
Alex pressed her lips together, forming a thin line. If she couldn’t talk about Resettlement, what was she even doing here? She’d have to agree for now and find a way to work it into the conversation. “Fine.”
“Good. It’s a big day for Garrett tomorrow. You’ll have to make do without him at Fort Sterns.”
Her eyes flicked toward Firefly. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“I’m going down to Agartha tomorrow evening to have a chat with our undead buddy Jaden,” Firefly said.
“He contacted us and requested a meeting with me,” Fleming explained. “I’m sending Firefly in my place.”
“Huh,” Alex said. Did Jaden just want to introduce himself to the leader of New Haven, or was this something more? “Did he say what he wanted to talk about?”
“No,” Fleming said. “Just that it was urgent.”
“I hope he’s not just hungry,” Firefly joked.
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Fleming said. “Garrett tells me the new GMT is doing very well.”
Alex nodded. “They are. It’s amazing how quickly they got up to speed.”
He raised his glass in salute. “That’s a result of good leadership. And it’s heartening. We’re going to need to expand soon. It’ll take have multiple Ground Mission Teams to support both New Haven and Fort Sterns.”
Multiple teams? She didn’t like the sound of that. Not if it happened at the same breakneck speed of everything else Fleming did. “I thought we were tabling the Resettlement discussion.”
“I said we were tabling the Resettlement debate. That doesn’t mean we can’t talk logistics. Did you know Florence County, the area around Fort Sterns, has sixteen prison facilities? Once our pilot settlement is a success, we’ll want to create other communities.”
“Ugh, I’m tired just thinking about it,” Firefly said. “Can we get Fort Sterns done before we start talking about expansion?”
Fleming chuckled. “Fine—I’m just saying that more communities will offer more opportunities for promotions.” He glanced at Alex. “For both of you.”
That gave Alex pause. Was he trying to buy her off the way he had Firefly?
“Colonel Brickman is a great leader,” Fleming said, “but he can’t do everything. And if I’m being honest, he seems to be struggling with his new role a bit.”
Alex frowned. “If you’re trying to get me to betray CB—”
“I’m not. I’m simply pointing out that there will be opportunities available. And we need strong leaders. Like you.”
A man with a large tray stepped up to their table. Alex had been so enthralled in Fleming’s conversation and how he might be trying to trap her that she hadn’t even noticed the man arrive. He set plates in front of each of them. A beautifully prepared bread with two types of sauces drizzled over it, perfectly cooked asparagus, and some sort of flame-seared dish she couldn’t identify. The aroma hit her nose and she felt herself go weak.
She started to pick up her fork, then stopped. This was just another tactic. A mind-bendingly, delicious-smelling tactic, but a tactic nonetheless. He was trying to distract her from the important things.
“Okay,” she said, “you want me to be a strong leader? Then I’m going to act like one and tell you what you need to hear. Fort Stearns isn’t safe. You need to slow down.”
“Alex, we said we wouldn’t—”
“No, you said. I tend to think the lives of the hundreds of people you plan on sending down there are too important not to discuss. If you want to test Fort Sterns out with a few people a night or two, fine. But moving in all these people at once is madness.”
“It’s necessary,” Firefly countered. “If we don’t have a large group, we won’t be able to defend ourselves properly. We need the entire wall manned.”
“You’re sending them to their deaths!”
Fleming sighed. “All right, you’ve had your say. Now let me have mine.” He gestured toward the people down in the street. “These people are the reason we have no choice but to Resettle. These are the ones I’m fighting for. They deserve to feel the ground under their feet. They deserve the chance to improve their lots in life.”
“I’m not saying they don’t,” Alex insisted. She’d never looked at the Ridge from this perspective. From above it all. It had always been a part of her life and she’d always been part of it.
Fleming looked down at them and shook his head, a sad expression on his face. “They can be a strong people if we just give them a chance. And we will. They’ll spread beyond Fort Sterns and eventually beyond the settlements we set up. They’ll cover the Earth if we help them do it.”
Alex allowed herself one bite of the aromatic bread. Her eyes closed for a moment as she savored it. Then she washed it down with a sip of wine and stood up. “This isn’t how we eat in the Ridge. Come with me. Both of you.”
She walked off without looking to see if they would follow.
Five minutes later, she walked through the door of Tankards, Firefly and Fleming right behind her. She pushed her way through the after-work crowd and made it to a table in the back.
Someone across the bar whistled, then yelled, “The GMT got sexy!”
That was quickly followed by, “You didn’t have to get dressed up for us, Alex!”
“I didn’t, Travis,” she called back. “It’s for your mom.”
“Sorry, Alex,” another guy called. “You don’t look good in a dress. Come back to my place and I’ll help you out of it.”
She shot him a withering look. “Trust me, Gavin, you couldn’t handle me.”
Fleming sidled up next to her, an uneasy look on his face. Firefly took the spot beside him.
“You been here before?” she asked Fleming.
He nodded slowly. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah. I remember when you used to hold your political rallies a few blocks down the street. Times change, huh?”
“That they do,” the politician agreed.
Firefly sat quietly, an unreadable expression on his face. Alex wondered if he was reminiscing about the times they’d spent here with the GMT or if he was angry she’d torn him away from his fancy dinner.
The bar was the polar opposite of the restaurant he had taken Alex to the previous week. It was loud, cramped, and it smelled like sweat and stale beer.
Alex raised a hand and shouted to the bartender, “Three slops and three beers, Carl.”
They were starting to get strange looks as the men and women began to recognize Fleming. The chatter in the bar went down a couple decibels.
The bartender came over with three pints of beer and three plates covered with a rather unpleasant-looking stew made of scraps from the agricultural department. Every piece of food grown in New Haven had to be used, and
much of what wasn’t used elsewhere made its way to Sparrow’s Ridge.
“Dig in,” Alex told them.
Fleming let out a laugh. “It has been a long while since I ate slop. I loved it as a kid. My favorite thing about it was that every bite tastes different. It was like a surprise in each spoonful.”
Firefly swallowed his first bite. “Then you’re going to love this. It’s especially… surprising.”
"You want to show me Sparrow’s Ridge?” Alex said. “This is how you do it. Not from above, looking down on them. These people do deserve better, but you can’t just experiment with their lives. They’re real people with names and dreams and families. They’re no different than the people in the Hub." She took a big drink of beer, then set the glass down hard on the table. “Here’s the real difference between you and me. You think these people can be strong. I think they already are.”
Fleming took another bite of food and looked around the bar. He turned back and looked Alex in the eyes for a long moment. "Alex, all people are important, but they are not all the same. Look at you. You may be the most gifted soldier this city has ever seen. You accomplish missions that no one else here could. It is the duty of the exceptional to lead the way to a better life for all."
"Is that what you are? Exceptional?"
“Of course. All three of us are. We started in Sparrow’s Ridge, and we made it out. And, yes, that means we have to make the tough decisions. If there needs to be sacrifice for the advancement of the greater good, then that’s a pill we have to swallow."
Alex felt the anger growing inside her like an approaching storm. She willed herself not to explode. Not here. Not now. “Fleming, I know there’s no damn way you’re ever going to listen to me. But do me favor. Listen to him.” She nodded at Firefly.
Firefly’s mouth opened in surprise. “Me?”
She looked him in the eye. “Firefly, you know in your heart that Fleming is taking us down a destructive path. Be honest with him. You owe me that much. You owe Fleming that much, too.”
She dropped a handful of coins on the table. “This one’s on me, Fleming.”
With that, she stood up and pushed her way out of the bar.
23
“Is this strictly mandatory?” Ed asked the next evening. “No offense, Captain. I love what you’ve done with the place. It’s just that with these nonstop missions, I barely have the energy to fall into bed at night, let alone participate in extracurriculars.”
“He’s got a point,” Wesley said. “It’s not like the old days of the GMT when you’d go on a mission, what, every couple weeks? We don’t spend our days lounging around like you used to.”
Alex laughed. “Um, excuse me, that is not how it was.”
Owl nodded. “If we weren’t on a mission, we wished we were, with the training CB put us through.”
“And yes,” Alex added, “this is mandatory.”
The Ground Mission Team was gathered in Alex’s quarters. She’d rounded them up after the mission that day and told them to come to her place for dinner. Now she was serving up plates of a casserole dish her mom had often made, one of the few recipes Alex knew. Only, when her mom had made it, it hadn’t been black on the bottom and tasted vaguely like ash.
Patrick took a bite, slowly chewed it, and swallowed hard. “Are we being punished?”
“Not yet,” Alex said. “But keep complaining about my cooking and that could change.”
He sullenly took another bite.
Alex took a deep breath. She’d been considering doing this for days, but after Patrick and Ed had stood up for her in the prison yard the previous day, she’d decided it was time. They were protecting her; she needed to give them her trust in return.
“This is sort of a GMT tradition,” she began. “Back when CB was captain, we used to do this before every mission. We’d gather for dinner, chat, be together in an environment where our lives weren’t on the line.”
“Wait,” Chuck said, “are you saying we have to do this every night?”
“No.”
“Oh, thank God,” Ed muttered.
“But tonight’s sort of a special occasion. I wanted to talk to you about something. I haven’t been entirely honest with you.”
The GMT members exchanged nervous glances, suddenly less interested in complaining about their mediocre food.
“I did it because I wanted to protect you,” she continued. “I wanted you one hundred percent focused on the mission. I didn’t want your heads clouded with politics. That was wrong of me, and I apologize. But it’s time to rectify that situation.” She took a deep breath. There was no turning back now. “CB, Owl, Jessica, Brian, and I are all involved in a plot to take Fleming down. And we are working to make sure it happens before Resettlement starts.”
She went on to tell them everything. About the bombing of the council and her suspicions of Firefly’s role in it. About how CB was working behind the scenes with Kurtz to gather evidence and to get the badges on their side. About how they planned to free General Craig and place him temporarily in charge until elections could be held.
Most of all, she explained why they were doing this. How she was absolutely certain that anyone who spent the night on the surface in Fort Sterns would die.
When she finished, there was a long silence. She let it hang there, then she said, “What you do with this information is up to you. If you want off the team, that’s your call. But I thought you had to know. Because if Fleming finds out what we’re up to, he’ll come after me, and that means he’ll probably come after you too.”
There was another long silence. Then something peculiar happened: Chuck started eating.
Patrick looked at him like he was crazy. “Did you hear what she just said?”
Chuck shrugged. “I don’t know about you guys, but I trust Alex. If Fleming comes after her, he’s going to have to get through me first.” He took another bite, then said through his food, “Besides, he’s always seemed like a massive son of a bitch.”
Ed scratched his chin. “I voted for Resettlement, but it was just so I could go down there and fight vampires. I already get to do that, so, yeah, sure.”
“You’re not overthrowing the government without me,” Patrick quickly added.
“I’m a little offended I wasn’t in on this plan from the jump,” Wesley remarked. “But you know I’m into it. I’ve seen vampires at night, and I’d rather not see them again.”
Alex felt a lump rising in her throat at her team’s loyalty. She’d expected at least some of them to protest, maybe argue about the merits of what they were doing. She wouldn’t have been surprised if one or two of them had walked.
But instead they’d immediately bought in.
“All right then,” she said. “Anyone want a second helping of casserole?”
Patrick’s face screwed up in disgust. “Um, no.”
For the second time in his life, Garrett was on the surface of the Earth when the sun went down. The first time had been a botched mission that he didn't think he would live through. This time he was here on purpose, sent here by Fleming, who apparently didn’t have the balls to stand toe to toe with a vampire in the middle of the night.
He’d been waiting alone in this little room in Agartha for over an hour, and it was starting to wear on him. After weeks of being on the go almost constantly, he felt antsy sitting still with nothing but his thoughts to occupy his mind. Thoughts of the impending Resettlement and all the work that still had to be done to make it possible. Thoughts of Alex and her tireless efforts to plant doubt in his mind. He hated it. He hated the fact that there was a small kernel of truth to her words.
But his faith in Fleming outweighed her flawed logic. He had his moments of weakness, sure, but didn’t everyone? He’d do the right thing for humanity when the time came.
The door opened and Jaden strode in, a smile on his face. “Firefly! Good to see you, my friend.”
Garrett paused, caught off guard by the warm welcome. �
��Thank you. Good to see you too. And it’s Captain Eldred now. I got a promotion.”
“Congratulations.” The vampire slid into the chair across from Garrett. “I’ll be honest, I was really hoping to meet Fleming.”
“He’s a little busy at the moment. I’m here as his representative. You can say anything to me you were going to say to him.”
“Ah, scared of vampires, is he?” Jaden asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
Garrett pushed down the annoyance building within him. “No. Just busy, like I said the first time. So, what was so important you called us down here to discuss?”
“The continued existence of the human race. That’s fairly important, wouldn’t you agree? But maybe a little small talk before we begin. That’s how we used to do it back in civilized times.” He stared at Garrett for a long moment. “So you’re having a hard time dealing with something you did?”
Garrett frowned. This was not going at all like he’d expected. “First of all, you have a funny definition of small talk. Secondly, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve seen it a lot. It’s a specific combination of terror and remorse that sits up around the eyes. You’ve killed someone, and you’re struggling with it.”
Garrett didn’t even dare breathe. How the hell could this vampire possibly know about that?
Jaden held up a hand. “I’m not judging. I’ve killed hundreds. Sometimes with good reason, sometimes not so much. Just an observation.”
"I don't know who you've been talking to, but that is bullshit. I didn't kill anyone."
“The only person I needed to talk to figure it out was you. You’re fractured by it. Hell, you even changed your name. Did you notice the way you tensed up when I called you Firefly?"
Garrett took a long breath before responding. "The only things I kill are foul-smelling vampires. And I take them out every chance I get. Is this really what you called me down to talk about?"
Jaden shrugged. “Okay, then. On to business.” He leaned forward and looked Garrett in the eye. “I called you down here to offer you my help.”
