Sarge and Jamie both know I won’t sleep until I know Lyncoln is home safe, so they keep me preoccupied for the plane ride telling training stories. Marisol and Henry must fall asleep because Elle, hearing our laughter and talking, comes back and sits next to Sarge and joins in our conversations. I appreciate all of them more than they will ever know. They are family.
****
I’m exhausted by the time we land. Upon landing, we head directly for Mile High, where Sarge and Jamie quickly get me back to my room. I take a look at myself in the mirror and wince.
I look like crap. My hair that was partially pulled up is starting to escape in certain places. I feel that my feet are dirty without even having to look at them. My white dressy outfit is smudged with dirt here and there. My face even feels gritty with dirt. Man, I got this dirty and I was miles away from the explosion. In fact, the only thing not dirty on me, is my beautiful new engagement ring.
Trying to calm my hair and failing, I decide to take a quick shower. Afterward, I braid my hair back since I don’t like sleeping with wet hair, change into some pajamas, and fall into my fluffy bed. I have never been so glad to see this bed in my entire life. I know Lyncoln will be here eventually, so I drift off while I wait.
I wake to the sound of my door opening and closing. Does he even know how to knock anymore?
“Hey,” I say as he walks over quietly, I assume trying not to wake me up. I sit up and reach over to turn on my lamp.
“Hey yourself, gorgeous,” he says as the light turns on and I look him from head to toe.
I squint at him as I take in his wet hair and fresh scent. “You showered.”
He shrugs with a half-smile and nods towards me, “So did you.”
I squint at him again. “Blood splatters?”
He puts his hands up, shaking his head. “No. Honest. I was mostly just dirty.” He sits down on the edge of my bed, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. “How are you?”
“Any time you leave me and willingly run into danger, I am scared,” I admit honestly.
He looks down at his feet guiltily.
I put my hand in his. “I’m not mad though, Lync. I know you were protecting those men and the people of Detroit,” I say, fully meaning it. They weren’t prepared. Not even a little. I know why he pushes better training as often as he does.
“And you,” he adds affectionately as his blue-brown eyes sear mine.
Before he can kiss me, because I know that’s where this is going, I have to find out about why he was delayed. “Did you get everything taken care of?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He sighs. “We brought the vehicle they had back to Denver so it can be picked over in evidence.”
“Oh,” I say and wait for him to keep going.
“Regs, that could’ve been really bad. It’s like their attack on the base was a diversion. I’m not sure where they were going in that vehicle, but I bet it had something to do with the Culling candidates being there.” He shakes his head angrily and adds, “That was too close of a call. Too close. For all of us.”
I shiver and know it’s not from being cold. “How did you know the two guys in that vehicle were drifters?”
“Though they were trying to look like military men, they didn’t have the correct gear on and the vehicle could barely run.” He shrugs. “That combination alerted me that something wasn’t right. So after we passed them, I rolled down the window and shot one of their back tires out. If they were truly one of us, they would have just been confused. Probably mad as hell, but just confused. Since they were drifters and not our men, they immediately started firing back at us.”
Holy crap.
“So you took down the two in the vehicle first?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he nods.
“Did you kill one of them?” I really don’t care if he did. I myself have killed someone, but regardless, I just want to know what happened.
“I took down one and Zimmer took down the other,” he nods. “It was relatively quick. From the time I shot out the tires to the time they were down was probably three minutes or less.”
“So then you headed to the base?”
He nods again. “We left two of Zimmer’s men there fully loaded and went in the direction of the explosion. When we got there, it was already pretty well under control. One of the drifters was shot down and the other took a pill.” He shakes his head as if he can’t understand it.
“So what was the point? What was their goal?” I ask confused.
“I don’t know. They had the explosives but used the exact opposite side of the building as the weapons safe. All they did was blow up the jail cells that no one was even in,” he says with a confused shrug.
“I know you better than this. What do you really think was going on?”
He sighs again and grabs my hand to kiss my palm before beginning. “I think they were trying to get weapons and either didn’t have the right information or were just picking a spot and hoping to get lucky. But, I also think that was a diversion for whatever they were really there to accomplish, which was more than likely related to the Culling candidates being there. I’m not naive enough to think it was just a coincidence the first time the drifter’s attack a township other than Denver, the candidates just happen to be there. They were headed for the candidates in that vehicle. I’m sure of it. They were just stupid and sent only two. And we were lucky enough to pass them on their way.”
Crap. This is bad. “Yet we are still going to Seattle tomorrow?”
He nods again but sounds frustrated. “Trying to carry on as if nothing has happened. Detroit would get word if we canceled our tour to Seattle, and then they would know something more was up.”
“I hate all this lying,” I say honestly. “I don’t even know how the people are buying it.”
“I hate it too.”
I look at him a bit surprised. I assumed since he worked so much with Taggert and this drifter stuff, he was on the same page as him and the President in keeping the public from knowing much of anything. Some military stuff needs to be classified, after all.
“The first thing I will do as President is to tell the public about the drifters,” he says determined.
“I’m game.” I nod wholeheartedly. This is a relief, this is also something I have had on my mind. The people deserve to know if they are in danger.
“The second thing I will do is initiate a training program for the military in getting everyone ready to end this.” He looks deadly again, jaw clenched in hunter mode. Lyncoln the military hero and assassin.
“If it means you get to leave me less, I’m totally game,” I say, giving his hand a squeeze. “I knew you had to go today because no one was prepared or trained. I was terrified for those people. They needed you.”
He nods and swallows hard. “And the third thing I will do as President,” he pauses and while looking at me, his eyes grow more intense, “is start a family with you.”
Holy crap. Not what I was expecting. I just don’t know what to say to that.
Chapter 10
The next morning, Frank and Gertie come knocking way too early. The last few days have been some of the most exciting and exhausting days of my life. I just want to curl up and sleep for days but instead, I have to get all dolled up for Seattle. Seattle of all places.
Today Lyncoln and I are dressed in Navy. Him in a navy suit, a white and beige gingham shirt, and navy tie. I’m in a navy, flowy chiffon dress that has a block of white and a block of matching beige along the bottom, which falls above my knees. I’m also wearing beige heels. My hair is half down and half up and I have a long necklace on. The combination of my flowy dress and Lyncoln’s checkered shirt make me feel less dressed up than usual, and I am thankful for Frank’s outfit picks for today. I don’t feel like being dressed up today.
“I do like you in blue,” Lyncoln says, looking at me in the mirror from behind me.
I am reminded of my fancy emerald and navy dress I wore
back when I had no idea who I would choose between Henry and Lyncoln. And I weirdly confessed as much to Lyncoln at the time.
“Back at you,” I say, making eye contact with him through the mirror.
“Are you ready for this?” he asks concerned.
I know he’s referring to going to Oliver’s home township. Seattle will be tough to see, knowing that they lost one of their own during the Culling. The worst part is they don’t even know why.
I half-heartedly shrug. “I want to see Marcia, but it still just sucks. I don’t feel like campaigning for their votes. I just wish I could deliver some news that would help them to heal and grieve properly.”
He nods in understanding.
“When we tell everyone about the drifters, we also have to tell them the truth about his death,” I say determined, slightly ticked off. Maybe more than slightly.
“Agreed.” He nods once and leans in to kiss me on the forehead.
****
Hours later, we are taking a tour of the water purification centers. There are again a bunch of different machines in which I know the basic idea of what they do but have no idea how they all work together to produce the end result. I ask our guide about Marcia and her project and she is glad to elaborate although their specific project is at a different facility closer to the Pacific.
The luncheon goes quickly. Many people mention Oliver and we respond with the politically correct, “I am sorry for your loss.” and, “He was such a great person.” I hate every second of it.
I stand beside Lyncoln in the old stadium that overlooks some skyscrapers in the distance. They still must use those skyscrapers because they don’t look like some of the ones I have seen in the other townships. They aren’t crumbling apart, they look kept up, and just... cleaner.
It’s cloudy, gloomy, and cold out but surprisingly not raining on us. I find myself not wanting to give my speech with a fake smile plastered on my face when these poor people have no idea what really happened to Oliver. Coming to Seattle is definitely bittersweet. Marcia is here somewhere, but Oliver is not. That void is not easily forgotten.
This time Lyncoln goes first, just to switch it up, and compliments them on the great job they do and how valuable it is for our country. He points out that as our population continues to grow, so does our need for water, and that Seattle has yet to fail us. He even offers some ideas he has with the military officers he plans to give full-time military positions, and how they can help protect both Seattle and our water supply. They seem pleased with this idea, as most of the other townships have been too.
It’s funny all these people have no idea there is even an outside threat and are still in favor of a better trained and secured military. Imagine what they would think if they actually knew about the drifters.
Next is my turn. I feel cold to the bone and I’m not sure if it’s because of the weather and the thin material of my dress or because I feel cold every time I relive Oliver’s death. Probably a combination of both. But, I embrace the cold as it feels oddly refreshing and fitting as I begin.
I reintroduce myself since Lyncoln already introduced me as the “love of his life and fiancé”. I know I’ll have a hard time mentioning Oliver, and Marisol already did in her speech so I wouldn’t have to, but I feel like it would be disrespectful not to mention him. The only thing worse than bringing it up, would be to not bring it up. I am more nervous about this speech than I was with any of the others. This is Oliver’s home, and out there somewhere is his family.
“Coming from Omaha, I both respect and understand how hard you work and how important what you do is. I also know you have been developing some cutting-edge ways of purifying water and am very impressed with your continued determination to not only get us water, but get us back to pre-Trident ways of using such a valuable resource.” I pause.
I have to mention Oliver. I have to.
“What speaks even more to me than the knowledge of what you do and some of the projects you have developed, is the people from your township that I came to know in the Culling. Ajax and Oliver were well known among us for their intellect. I personally got to know Chrys and Marcia quite well, counting them as friends for life.
“You only have to look to the ten people Seattle gave to the Culling to know what a special township Seattle is. Know that Oliver will be severely missed and remembered not only here, but in Denver and across the other townships as well. He did life right. He worked hard and used his talents, but also had a good time… and used far too many gestures, too.
Many people laugh as they remember with me.
“Not a single one of us will forget him. Thank you for letting him come to the Culling and impact us all. I am just so sorry we couldn’t return him to you.” It’s at this point that I choke up and have to end my speech early.
The image flashes across my memory of Attie trying to stop all the blood and Oliver coughing up more of it. These people should know he died a hero. Unable to say anything more, the crowd starts cheering so I don’t have to. I hear some whoops and hollers and turn to see Marcia leading the bunch that’s clearly louder than the rest. Lyncoln is at my side squeezing my hand in support.
Glad to be done with that, I turn and give Attie’s hand a squeeze as they are up next to close it out. I know this will be bothering her just as much as it bothered me. Ever a vision of grace, she knocks it out of the ballpark, or old football stadium, I guess. She tells a few stories about Marcia, Chrys, and Oliver and the crowd loves it. She says that as we battle our grief, we must know that Oliver’s legacy will live on within each of us.
What a beautiful and poetic thing to say! She nailed it. And I am not even a little mad at her for it. The people of Seattle deserved to hear it. I couldn’t find the right words to express how I was feeling, so I’m glad that she was able to.
As they finish, Dougall announces how the meet and greet will work, as usual, and we move to our allotted area. Lyncoln feels that my arms are cold and hands me over his jacket. It drowns me, but it smells so much like him that I don’t mind at all. I roll up the sleeves so I can still shake people’s hands appropriately. I have barely got it on and fixed up when I am scooped up and hugged by a very loud Hispanic family which can only belong to one person… Marcia.
“Put her down, you imbecile,” Marcia commands using a thicker accent than I have ever heard her use. “Her boyfriend could eat you for breakfast.”
“Fiancé, actually,” Lyncoln laughs and shakes the young man’s hand with a smile and proceeds to introduce himself to Marcia. He knows her from the Culling footage the guys were shown of the girls but hasn’t officially met her since she went home the night before the ball in which we met the boys.
Marcia looks at me and wiggles her eyebrows. “My, my, my. Look at you go, girl. I should have known that the picture you picked up back when we only had pictures would be the one you marry, you crazy woman! And look at his muscles?” She gestures towards him wildly. “I can’t blame you, girl!”
Lyncoln looks uncomfortable and mumbles. “Why is it always the muscles? I am a person too, you know?”
Marcia nods. “Mmmm-hmmm. Yes, you are.”
I giggle at Lyncoln having no idea how to handle her. “I have good taste and intuition, I guess.”
“Dang right you do, hun. That’s why you picked me as your best friend,” Marcia says loudly and proudly, chin in the air.
Her family is a hoot and I love, love meeting them. We talk to them for almost ten full minutes. As they leave, Marcia hangs back. The look on her face tells me what she wants to know.
“Oliver. It wasn’t a training accident was it?” she asks me so softly I’m not even sure Jamie and Sarge standing behind me could hear.
I look at Lyncoln and see his torn expression and then we both look back to Marcia at the same time.
Before I can say anything, she holds up her hand to stop me. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want for you to get in trouble. I knew if I asked I would have my answer
by the look on your face and I do. Some other day you can tell me what really happened, hermana.”
I nod though I’m not sure what “hermana” means. I look around wondering if Oliver’s mom is around. I know she meant the world to him. I would love to talk to her, as hard as it would be. I ask Marcia such.
“She won’t be here,” she shakes her head. “It would have been too hard for her to be around you all. I’m sure she is watching from afar, but she is still pretty shaken up. More so than his dad.”
I sigh. “Rightly so.” I feel Lyncoln’s hand in mine before I finish saying it.
Marcia steps forward and gives me another big hug before saying, “Don’t be a stranger.” With that, she leaves to join her family and is barely ten feet away before she is barking orders and speaking in half-Spanish, half-English.
I really miss that girl.
****
A few hours later, after meeting more people than I thought was possible, we are back on the planes headed home to Denver. Taggert doesn’t want to take any other risks with the drifters. There was already an extra plane full of guards and military officers we took with us to Seattle for extra security measures. Half of Lyncoln’s combat team was part of the extras. Neither Lyncoln nor Taggert are messing around. And I can’t help but keep wondering if there was a small army of men trained as well as Lyncoln if there would be much of a drifter problem at all.
I feel relieved I will get to sleep in my own fluffy bed again tonight. We have one day of the tour left, technically for “Denver”. Since we have already met all the leaders and the council, which are mainly the cabinet members, instead of doing that portion, Dougall came up with the idea of an old-fashioned Thanksgiving feast for the whole township.
The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) Page 14
