Revolution: A Red Dog Thriller (The Altered Book 3)

by Blou Bryant

  “Thank you,” Emm said, her voice full of wonder. “It’s a miracle, what you can do.”

  Wyatt didn’t reply to that. He still didn’t know what he could do, and his mind was alive with thoughts of what he’d learned from Teri. The virus was assimilated into him now, and he was whole again. But he didn’t know what it meant, or would mean.

  “I saw Jessica, is she…” said Emm, shuddering. Is she dead?

  There had been no colors around her when they left. “Yeah, she is,” Wyatt replied.

  The car started up, driverless, of course.

  “What about Joe?”

  “Joe has been disabled,” replied Mary over the car audio. “You successfully transmitted the virus to him, and through him to us. Once we integrated it, we were able to fully disable him, and then Jessica Golde.”

  “Disable?”

  “They killed him, too,” Wyatt managed to say. “It’s over?”

  “I’ve made arrangements,” Mary said. Two blocks—and no further reply—later, the car stopped. Marylyn and several other people were waiting by the side of the road. Vincent stood beside them. The door automatically glided open.

  The elderly councilwoman leaned over and looked in. “Wyatt?” she said in surprise.

  Wyatt didn’t reply as she climbed in. A deep cyan glow surrounded her, a shade darker than that around Teri. Why are you here? What happened? Is it safe?

  He sensed her thoughts, her questions, but didn’t know how to reply.

  “You’re covered in blood,” said Marilyn in alarm, and scooted over next to Emm.

  “It’s fine. I’m fine. Wyatt healed me.”

  “What happened?” asked Marilyn as Vincent and several others joined them in the limousine.

  The colors flowing around the newcomers were dazzling, blinding even, while their thoughts were frazzled and scattered. He stared at Vincent for a while, confused at the mix of bright reds that swirled around touches of black over the stomach. “It’s a long story,” was all he said.

  Teri waved a hand to get his attention. How are you doing? Did she say it? Her lips hadn’t moved, except to smile slightly.

  “Okay?” he thought. “Did you hear that?”

  She nodded. “You will get the hang of this.”

  “Will I?” he thought.

  “Pathing?”

  “That’s what the twins call it, but this is more. It’s hard to handle,” he thought, attempting to push the words in her direction.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “What?”

  “Push, direct the thoughts. If they’re for me, they’ll come to me.”

  “How?”

  Teri shrugged.

  Wyatt wanted to ask more questions, but was too overwhelmed. How did she live like this? he wondered. He sensed—felt—Marylyn worrying about him.

  “What happened?” Marylyn asked. “One moment we were in a jail, the next, we’re freed.” And why is Emmelyn covered in blood?

  Vincent pulled a cigarette out of a pocket and put it in his mouth. Before he could light it, Marylyn plucked it away from him, snapped it in two and discarded it in her jacket pocket. He grumbled, but didn’t take another one out. Cranky old bitch. I like her. “Orders came down a few minutes ago. All the arrests from the Zone were to be released. I was in the neighborhood, so came by to make sure they were followed.” Fuck it, be where the fun is.

  Wyatt shook his head to get the voices out of it. This failed. The car continued to speed through the city. He closed his eyes to calm himself, but this had the opposite effect. The colors were still there, and the voices in his head increased in volume. His heart raced faster, and he had to wipe the sweat from his palms off on his pants.

  “Stop the car,” he said. When it didn’t stop immediately, he wrenched at the door handle. At this, Mary pulled the car to the curb.

  It was close, but he managed to get out before he violently threw up on the curb. A passing couple stepped away from the bloody, dirty young man evacuating his stomach beside a long black limo. They continued on their way. After a second and a third round of vomit, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

  Abashed, he got back in the car. “Let’s go.” As it pulled away from the curb, he looked at everyone looking at him. He choked out a brief, “I’m fine,” and put his head back.

  The rest of the short ride passed in silence. As they entered the Zone, he noticed that there weren’t any police cars, nor black-clad Watchers standing guard.

  “Did you send everyone away?” Emm asked, seeing the same.

  Mary, always listening, replied, “I’ve issued orders. This Reclamation Zone is no longer under police jurisdiction.”

  “And the Watchers?”

  “The guards assigned by Jessica Golde were recalled. Their implants were deactivated and they will be dismissed from service.”

  Was it really that easy?

  “I’ve arranged for a people resources program to ensure they are paid appropriate severance for their employment, meeting all contractual and legal obligations.”

  Just like that. In the end, they were employees, just employees doing their job. And the job was over.

  Despite the early hour, the street was packed, and the car moved slowly. Colors flickered in and out, emanating from the partiers who welcomed the small group back. Word must have spread. There was a barrage of thoughts to go with the colors, joyous, happy thoughts, hundreds of them. Wyatt clenched his teeth and struggled to hold on.

  Teri edged close to him, taking his arm in hers. “It gets easier,” she whispered.

  Wyatt didn’t reply at first. As the car arrived at the HUC, he finally had to say, “I can’t handle this. Can we…” he said and stopped. Where would he go? To Palna, the middle of nowhere? This reminded him of his other friends, snapping him back to reality. “We need to get to Palna.”

  “I’ve already considered that,” said Mary. “I freed everyone in the Center you refer to as Palna.”

  Of course you have. “How?” he asked.

  “Once the AI called Joe was disabled, we had access to the building systems, and could lock down and lock out the in-house guards. Another used the implants on Jessica Golde’s men to disable them. It took four minutes and fifty-three seconds. Your friends are now in full control.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief, but this didn’t last, as relaxing allowed the colors and thoughts to return, in force.

  Let’s get him out.

  Help him out.

  Hold the door.

  Reluctantly he allowed himself to be helped out of the car, but immediately staggered back against it at the wave of color from the crowd that surrounded him. People clapped him on the back and shook his hands. Wyatt shrunk back from the contact, each felt like a tiny jolt of electricity overlaid with a stream of thoughts.

  Did they win?

  I want to touch him.

  He doesn’t look good. Is he sick again?

  Are we safe?

  Wyatt was pulled through the crowd, held up by the mass of people, arms and hands grabbing at him. Reds, blues and greens, and every shade in-between, washed over him.

  I gotta get some beer. Gonna be a party.

  Get closer, hug him. He’s hot.

  What’s wrong with him? He’s a freak.

  I wanna get with her. Tonight’s the night.

  Wyatt winced. What? Oh, damn, I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want this, he thought.

  Half-way through the crowd, he saw a blaze of white interlaced with blue ahead of him. Thoughts—worries about him—quieted all the other voices. Like a drowning man, he reached out, and Hannah came to him.

  Hannah pulled him to her, pushing others out of the way, tearing their hands off him. Are you all right?

  No!

  “What do you need?” she asked, but was already pulling him back to the car. “Leave him alone,” she yelled at the crowd. “He’s hurt. Give him space.”

  Wyatt tried to walk with her, but fell to his k
nees.

  She kneeled next to him.

  What’s wrong with him?

  Did Jessica beat him?

  Should we leave?

  “Five,” a voice whispered in his ear.

  What? Wyatt thought.

  “Five,” whispered Hannah, her lips hardly an inch from his ear. “Come on, count it out.”

  “Four,” he said, out loud.

  “Get to your feet,” she said, and gently pulled on his arm. “Three, count with me.”

  “Three,” he said, and stood up. He wanted to laugh. “You know about my counting?”

  “Dumbass,” she replied. “I know you. Two.”

  “Two,” he said, and followed her back to the car.

  Hannah helped him in.

  “Teri,” he said. “Bring Teri.”

  Teri gave him a tap on the back. She was already inside. “One,” she said.

  “One,” repeated Hannah, closing the door behind him.

  He leaned to one side, his head against the window. “One,” he managed.

  Hannah sat across from him, staring in worry. “Car, take us away from here.” Her order was unnecessary. The car was already moving. “What do you need?”

  As the limo left the crowds behind, the voices and colors faded, but didn’t disappear completely. “Somewhere quiet.”

  “The park?”

  Wyatt shook his head, not knowing what the right answer was.

  “Is it over?” Hannah asked Teri.

  “It is.”

  “What about Palna and the people we left behind?”

  “Safe,” signed Teri.

  Hannah didn’t ask any more questions, didn’t wonder what any of it meant. Wyatt looked at her looking at him and was deeply comforted. He closed his eyes.

  “Car, take us out of the city. Search for a cottage, something remote that we can rent.”

  “Off gird,” said Wyatt, hardly able to stay awake.

  “I’ll get you somewhere safe,” said Hannah, patting him on the knee.

  Wyatt opened his eyes, took her hand, and pulled her to his side of the car, next to him. “Take us somewhere safe,” he said. “Us,” he repeated. “Don’t leave me.” He closed his eyes again.

  She leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him. As he drifted off to sleep, she whispered in his ear, “I love you too.”

  ***

  Wyatt woke to the sound of giggling. He opened his eyes to guilty looks from the two girls. Hannah had white frosting on her lips, and Teri red. Between them, on the floor of the car, was a box of cupcakes. Tall, frosted, cupcakes.

  “We stopped,” signed Teri.

  “For food. We were hungry,” said Hannah.

  “But, cake?”

  “Almost four years ago, you promised me cake. You said there’d be cake. So, I bought cake.”

  This couldn’t be argued with. Wyatt laughed and took two from the box, one of each. After eating half of the white cupcake, he paused, drew in a deep breath, and said, “This is perfect.”

  Hannah was on the other side of the car, and he pulled her back over to his side. He wrapped one arm around her and started in on the red velvet cake with his other hand.

  Things were quiet again, and he found himself relaxed for the first time in days, or perhaps years. The colors were there. Teri was a bright blue, and Hannah a mix of whites and blues, but he could handle that. They were soothing, even. He could spend a lot of time with the two of them… and happily, with nobody else. He took another bite of the cupcake, and with a full mouth, asked, “Where are we going?”

  Hannah picked the box up from the floor, and took another red velvet cupcake. “Mary said she found a perfect place.”

  “Mary?” he asked, feeling cold.

  “Yes, I introduced myself,” said the now-familiar voice over the car audio.

  “She explained what happened,” said Hannah.

  “And she selected somewhere for us to go?”

  “I did,” replied Mary.

  “You already knew what I needed?”

  “I did.”

  “And you made all the arrangements?”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “I just want you to be happy, Wyatt. We all do.”

  THE END

  From the Author

  Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed reading this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you want to find out what’s next with me, or ask me a question, you can visit me online at:

  https://www.facebook.com/bloubryant

  www.bloubryant.com

  bryantgb@gmail.com