The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series)

by Tricia Wentworth

  Not knowing what to say to that and knowing I’m blushing, I just shrug again with my hands in the air innocently.

  Jamie grins. “Seriously Reagan, I have never seen anyone have it as bad as Lyncoln has it for you. It is both disgusting and awesome.”

  This makes me laugh. “Nice subject change, but… umm, thanks?”

  After searching out my family for a while and not being able to find anyone, I finally find Gertie fussing with some clothes in my room.

  “Hey, Gertie. Do you know where everyone is?” I ask.

  She smiles at me. “Frank has your family and Lyncoln working on a project.”

  “What kind of project?” I ask intrigued.

  She looks guilty for a moment and winces but then smiles again. “I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to discuss that with you.”

  I want to glare at her and force her to tell me, but she looks so happy I just can’t do it. I can’t be mean or manipulate this kind and compassionate woman who has been there for me through everything. I just can’t.

  But what is everyone up to now? As long as these secrets continue to be good secrets, I don’t care too much, I guess.

  “Okay,” I sigh, knowing that Gertie is not the person to interrogate here.

  Just then Ashton knocks and enters, Shepp along with him.

  “Regs.” He sounds excited. “Let’s go. Grab your coat.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask, knowing I’m not allowed to leave Mile High. I reach to pet Shepp, who is wagging his tail happily.

  “To make a snowman, duh,” he says like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. Then without cracking a smile, he adds, “It is only right and salutary that on this Christmas Eve-Eve, we shall make a snowman.”

  I can’t help but laugh. Every year, no matter our age and snow permitting, Ashton and I always make a snowman. He loves it for some weird reason. In one sense my brother is wise beyond his years, then in another sense, he’s a total child. He really is a weird combination.

  The three of us, plus a handful of guards, head down to the gardens and find a good open area with about six inches of fresh snow. It’s still cloudy, a little dark too, as the clouds look heavy like they might start unleashing more snow at any moment. The snow already on the ground is a pretty slushy snow, which makes for great snowmen. Ashton and I both wear gloves and get to work rolling while Shepp is content to stretch his legs and sniff the snow. Christmas Eve and the ball are tomorrow so we’ll all be busy preparing for that. Today, since I have already done everything that needed to be done, I can just spend some time frolicking in the snow.

  Ashton’s snowman ends up being much bigger than mine as we keep working while we banter back and forth. It’s quite chilly out, but we stay warm enough as we work. We finish up and Ashton hands me a bag with carrots and some sticks.

  He walks around his completed snowman in contemplation, finally saying, “It’s still just missing something.”

  I look at him confused. “What?”

  He picks up two heaping handfuls of snow and places them on the chest of his snowman giving her breasts. “There,” he says proudly, grinning.

  “Pig,” I scoff though I can’t help but burst into giggles because the snowwoman’s breasts are not at all the same size. And are crooked.

  Then Shepp jumps up and tries to eat one of the snowballs off Ashton’s snow-woman and I get hysterical. I throw a snowball for Shepp to fetch and pick up another one to chuck at Ashton’s head as he frantically tries to fix the snowboobs.

  This turns into an all-out snowball fight, with Shepp running interference, and we are both out of breath and laughing hard by the time we call a truce. When we get inside and get Shepp back to Ashton’s room, we find we are late to lunch. Mom glares at us when we sit down.

  Lyncoln is already there looking highly amused.

  “What?” I whisper to him defensively as I take my spot next to him.

  He slowly grins. “You have snow in your hair.”

  I quickly try to brush it away, but he has to reach over and help me. “Think Mom noticed? She probably wouldn’t appreciate our excuse for being late.”

  He snorts a laugh. “I don’t think much gets past that woman.”

  We have a great lunch, and after the fun from this morning, I’m feeling in good spirits. I can’t help but wonder what Marisol and Henry do for lunch. All our meals are a family affair. Does Marisol ever eat with Henry? Or do they do their own thing? I haven’t even seen Henry since he left our meeting with Taggert on a mission to get information out of Marisol. I make a mental note to try to find him later and see if he came up with anything.

  After lunch, we all split up again. Mom and I are getting our dresses fitted for tomorrow. I’m excited for that because I get to see my mom all dressed up. She’s so excited she can barely contain herself and it makes me happy to see her that way. The boys are off doing something else, having taken a total of five minutes for their suit fittings. Typical.

  Frank has really outdone himself with my dress and my mom is beside herself.

  “Practicing for my wedding dress again?” I joke.

  Frank looks at me like I grew horns. “Don’t be ridiculous. This is a winter ball, it will be decorated in blues and silvers. This dress will go perfectly with that theme.”

  My mom nods aggressively.

  “Marisol is wearing a deep blue, almost purple color, and you will wear this gown,” he explains. “That way you are both matching the theme but not one another.”

  The top of the dress has thin sleeves that fall just off the edge of my shoulders. The top part is a taupe color and silver sparkles are woven in and out together. The silver part of the dress makes it look almost like branches of ice sprawling across my skin. Then, at the waist, the skirt of the dress is the purest color of white I have ever seen. The chiffon like material lightly cascades around me to the floor. There is a slit, but instead of being straight, it swirls down the side adding a little something extra to the dress. It’s gorgeous, but I guess they are right, it has a little more flair to it than a traditional wedding dress, though I think it would make a good one. My shoes match the ice look and would be like Cinderella’s glass slippers, but instead of glass, they are more ice-like.

  I love all of it immensely. This dress is my new favorite. “The top looks like ice.”

  “I thought that too,” Mom nods, admiring it with me.

  “You look fantastic,” Frank says in proud approval.

  Having gotten all my measurements down to perfection, nothing needs to be changed on my dress, so mom is up next in a deep purple gown. It is simple and elegant with one strap, and she’s almost child-like when she puts it on, twirling around and looking at herself in the mirror.

  Since we are practically forcing Frank and Gertie to also attend the ball, we make Gertie show us her dress too, and oooh and ahhh over it as well. We are all excited. How fun to add a fancy shmancy ball into the mix of the usual Christmas cheer?! It’s a great diversion from worrying about Lyncoln and Hadenfelt and the drifters and this next vote. I just want to enjoy Christmas. The rest can wait… I hope.

  ****

  Later in the afternoon, I head upstairs to find Henry to see what he found out with Marisol, if anything.

  “Hey,” Henry says, surprised to see me.

  “Hey,” I say as we sit down in his sitting room. It feels like a lifetime ago that I was here in the upper portion of the Presidential Suite after Oliver died. And again after I shot Isabella. “How are you holding up?”

  He shrugs. “It’s a lot better with Hadenfelt gone. A lot.”

  I nod, and he looks at me concerned. “How are you holding up?”

  I look down at my hands. “I’ve never been more scared,” I admit honestly. “I don’t want to let Lyncoln out of my sight.”

  He reaches to give me a quick hug and nods, agreeing with me. “I hear you. I’m worried sick for the both of you. We will find him. We have to find him,” he says determi
ned.

  “Did you talk to Marisol?”

  “Yeah. She doesn’t know anything. I actually believe her, she’s trying to help any way she can.” He pauses. “All she was to that man was a means to an end. Kind of sad really. That’s his own flesh and blood he treated that way. And now that Marisol thinks we might be able to win with him out of the picture, she is doing everything she can to suck up to me, so I think she would tell me what she knows.”

  “I have never hated anyone so much as I hate that girl’s father,” I say honestly.

  “Same.” He gets distracted by the wrapped present I hold in my lap. “What’s that?”

  I smile, handing it over. “A Christmas gift. For you.”

  This lights up his face and he gives me a real, honest to goodness smile, complete with the dimples. “Thanks, Reagan.” He immediately tears into it and starts acting like a little kid. “No way?! This is awesome. Where did you find this?”

  “A girl never reveals her sources,” I try to say mysteriously like Lyncoln always does.

  “I want to watch it right now,” he says practically bouncing. It feels good to see him so happy when the last few months he has been anything but.

  I laugh, “Some things will never change. You and your love for all things zombies.”

  He looks at me seriously, like he’s offended. “Hey. Zombies are cool.”

  By the time I leave, he’s already firing up his TV. It feels good to have him back and have him as just a friend. Maybe there is hope that Henry, Lyncoln, and I can all be close again someday. I know we both miss him. And if he was dating anyone but Marisol, we would probably welcome her with open arms.

  Later that evening, after supper, Ashton wants to try out his new DVD player (he opened early without permission) and the President loans us a Christmas movie to watch. So, we settle in the large living room on my floor with popcorn and hot chocolate for a movie. My family is there, including Shepp, Frank and Gertie come, and Jamie and Rodgers are there by default. Later, Langly even joins us. As we watch a movie about a man who puts on the suit and unknowingly becomes Santa, I look around the room and for the first time, maybe ever, I think that my life here in Denver is looking pretty great. If we could deal with some of these other issues, Hadenfelt being the priority, I think my life here could be pretty perfect, win or lose in the Culling.

  ****

  Thursday morning Taggert comes over to Mile High and updates us on all things Hadenfelt. Still no new developments, but he does tell us all areas they are searching. The drifter compound locations have moved since our attack but using Samson’s tracker we still know where at least one is, maybe two. They have been flying in drones trying to recon, but then the blizzard hit and ruined the progress they were making before the drifters packed up and moved again. The good news is that with the drifters running scared, they seem to be unorganized. If unorganized, it seems unlikely they are planning anything big before this next vote. The final results being a week, just seven days, from today.

  Lyncoln seems more relaxed today, and it’s probably because he got face time with Taggert. I’m glad Taggert is allowing him to know some things, so he isn’t completely cut off like he feared he was. And regardless of whether I’m supposed to or not, I still want to tell him and need to tell him about his dad… I just don’t want to ruin Christmas. I selfishly want to get a little closer to this next vote too, so Lyncoln doesn’t go running off on a manhunt.

  Soon, though. Soon.

  I head with Lyncoln to Dougall and Elle. Surprisingly though, the whole Board is there to meet us for another panel.

  “Oh, hi. I didn’t know everyone was coming,” I say, trying to recover from the curveball of everyone being here.

  “Surprise!” Dougall smiles.

  “Now, now,” Lyncoln scolds her, “Christmas surprises are supposed to be good and your surprises are never good.”

  This makes Mr. Alexander laugh, surprising all of us. I have never even seen him smile, let alone laugh. Maybe he isn’t an “evil tester man” after all. Maybe.

  When the laughter dies down, Bennett takes over. “We are going to be going over your performance through the voting this far and giving you a breakdown of what the next week will be like. Nothing too intense.”

  “Alright,” I say all business. “Give us the bad stuff first, please. Let’s get it over with.”

  Elle smiles. “In a variety of polls done across the townships this week, we are finding that the people are intimidated by the both of you. Lyncoln is very task driven and aggressive, and you, Reagan, do not have the usual warm and fuzzy personality like previous woman leaders. You are very personable, but also very driven.”

  I look at her like she’s crazy. “I’m not warm and fuzzy?” I ask confused. I am a people person! I love people. Does that not come across like I assumed it would?!

  Mr. Winters chuckles. “Not at all. For crying out loud, Reagan, you are a natural born interrogator with your extreme perceptiveness. But what you lack in warmth and fuzz, you make up for in intelligence, charm, and good humor.” He winks at me.

  “So basically what you’re saying is that I’m not Attie?” I nod understanding and smile briefly at Mr. Winters.

  “Yes,” Elle gives an exaggerated nod. “Exactly. We honestly aren’t that worried about it. From either one of you. The people adore you and your love story. So though they may be intimidated by a powerful and driven couple such as yourselves, the love for one another that radiates off of you is enough to remind them that you are normal human beings and keeps them voting. In my opinion, a powerful couple with a powerful love is probably a good thing anyway.”

  Ohhh. I love the way she put that! So that’s not all bad.

  “Now. Your proposal idea for a collaborative team of sorts. It has gotten some rave reviews in the polls. People love your idea,” Zax nods.

  Bennett butts in, “The only thing the Board worries about is your moving too soon, too fast, trying to implement this rather large change when we all know that danger looms in the distance in the form of the drifters. First things first, and what needs to happen first is dealing with the drifters.” He explains it bluntly, in true Bennett fashion.

  I feel Lyncoln tense beside me and clench his jaw. Uh oh. He’s about to get feisty.

  “We fully intend to deal with the drifters. It will get done if I have to singlehandedly hunt down the drifter leadership myself. We won’t, however, shoot ourselves in the foot and not make any improvements for our country while that happens,” Lyncoln says in challenge. “We will keep the country safe and start improvements. There has to be a way to do both. We will not cower any longer.”

  Mr. Alexander and Professor Bennett exchange a look and smile amused but don’t say anything to that. I’m not sure if it’s Christmas in the air or what, but this panel meeting seems to be going a lot better than the ones in the past.

  Dougall is next. “Now obviously the question is how tight this next vote will be. Denver and Vegas are huge. On Monday, instead of ourselves generating the questions as usual, I will be taking questions emailed to us from each of the townships, decided upon at their own council meetings. You won’t have time to prepare for those questions and will have to answer them on the fly. It should provide an opportunity to prove yourselves and gain those swing votes that stem from Attie and Knox’s supporters. The only bad news is that instead of taking an hour, it will take all day. We will do you two in the morning, Marisol and Henry in the afternoon, and air it later that evening. Instead of an hour airing, it will be a three-hour special for all the nation to tune into.”

  Wow. We better not mess up on Monday. Got it.

  She continues, “Tuesday and Wednesday you can have free and may talk with any and all cabinet supporters you have to help rally behind you. Then, of course, in one week, Thursday is the big day. As we all already know, instead of results being two nights, it will be only one. Which is less agonizing for you. Traditionally the candidates receive the results with
the citizens of Denver watching and cheering them on. We have yet to figure out a secure location, and Taggert is being a real party pooper at the moment, so we do not have definite plans on that yet but hope to soon. Then, pending you win, Friday will be the ceremonies.”

  Ceremonies. Plural. Meaning wedding and inauguration. The double whammy.

  “You have one week remaining in the Culling. All of us believe you are prepared and capable. From your first round rankings to now, you both clearly deserve to be here,” Mr. Alexander says firmly with a nod.

  “Any other suggestions on what we can do to improve our chances?” I ask, directed at Elle.

  Dougall looks at the Board and then back to us. “No. Just win. That’s all there’s left to do. Finish the job. Stay the course,” she commands.

  And with that, we are done. I can’t help but wonder how Marisol and Henry’s meeting went. Are they optimistic towards them also? Do they give them the same help they give us? I would hope not, but I really don’t know. I would like to think that we have the majority of the Board’s support, especially since Elle slipped up and told us as much, but until we see the results with our own eyes, I don’t want to count on it.

  I head back to my room and Lyncoln drops me off at the door.

  “Don’t want to come in?” I smile.

  “Girly stuff really isn’t my thing,” he shrugs with his hands in his pockets. He knows that Mom, Gertie, and I have a full day planned of prepping for the ball tonight.

  I smile. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

  He looks down at his feet. “Ashton is helping me with some stuff. That’s about it.”

  “What stuff?” I ask intrigued.

  I’m kind of surprised he isn’t wigging out more about not being at DIA considering the fit he threw on the first day. Sure, our meeting this morning with Taggert helped, but he has also been keeping himself busy these last few days. I just have no idea doing what.