That Last Onset

by V. J. Chambers

  “It took me two seconds to figure that out, of course,” said Kieran-as-the-driver.

  Of course. He remembered her memories.

  “We went to Georgia right away,” he continued. “She’d been there, but she’d moved on. She spent time with that priest. What was his name? Father Gerald? Anyway, that message was more obscure. It said, ‘We had plans. Meet me with George.’ I wracked my brain up and down for any kind of plans you two might have had. Couldn’t think of anything involving someone named George.” He grinned at me, the same kind of awful lips-peeled-back grimace as he’d had during the games. “Does it mean something to you, Jason? Do you know where she is? Why don’t you just save us all some time and tell me where.”

  Plans? Meet me with George? I puzzled over it for several minutes before it came to me. Before I’d run out on Azazel and Chance, she and I had been planning to dose the water supply in Washington, D.C. with the leaves and wake everyone up. She’d been counting on the apartment in Georgetown that she used to share with Kieran being empty. That had been the place we’d planned to do it from. That must be what she meant. But if Azazel had continued with our plans, then something must have happened. Because, as far as I knew, the water supply of Washington D.C. had not been dosed, and people had not broken free of the influence of Kieran and Eve. Was she still there?

  I worried, trying not to let it show on my face. I didn’t want Kieran to know I’d recognized what her clue meant. “I don’t know anyone named George,” I told Kieran.

  “You can’t hide it from me, you know,” said Kieran-as-the-driver. “I have eyes and ears everywhere. Everyone you see, everyone you interact with is wired right into my brain. So wherever you go, I’ll see. So, let’s not drag it out, Jason. Just tell me what it means. I’ll find you sooner or later.”

  I swallowed hard. I was at a serious disadvantage here. But at least Kieran had saved me a trip to Jasontown. What was I going to do? I could knock out the driver and steal his car, but it wouldn’t matter. Kieran knew this car. He’d have everyone look out for it. If anyone saw the car, Kieran saw it. He’d figure out where I went. I could get out and hitch another ride, but Kieran could use that driver to see me. It was like Kieran had millions of security cameras all over the country. He could be anyone, see what anyone saw. It was like a bad episode of a television show that’s jumped the shark, when you aren’t sure if watching it is even fun anymore, now that the heroes don’t stand a chance.

  I leaned back in the passenger seat of the car. I didn’t have a plan. Kieran was right. It seemed hopeless. How was I going to get to Azazel and Chance? Maybe I shouldn’t. If Kieran couldn’t find her, maybe it would be safer for them if I stayed away. Now that he’d found me, he’d be watching me. Going anywhere near them might only put them in danger. I wasn’t in a good mood. “So who’s the problem, you or Eve?” I asked, not looking at him.

  “What?”

  “Whose fault is it that you can’t get pregnant? Are you shooting blanks? Hell, maybe you can’t get it up anymore. That the problem, Kieran?” Mean spirited, maybe. I didn’t care. Like I said, I never liked the guy much.

  Kieran-as-the-driver only laughed. “You think you can make me angry, Jason? Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t get angry anymore. I’ve been inside the power too long. Emotions are human. I’m more than that.”

  “Which is why you’re so desperate to have a child, I guess. Because you’re beyond being human.” I turned to him, giving him my own nasty smile.

  He laughed again. “Where is she, Jason?”

  “Go to hell,” I said. I grabbed the bag that held the herbs, threw open the car door, and hurled myself out into the darkness. As I thudded and rolled on the pavement, I heard the echo of Kieran’s laughter fading into the distance.

  * * *

  He didn’t come after me. Maybe it wasn’t worth the trouble to him. Maybe he figured someone else would see me soon enough. Or maybe he thought I was killing myself by throwing myself out of a speeding car.

  I was damned lucky not to break any bones, but I was pretty scraped up. As I dragged myself off the road, I wished like anything that I was still invincible. Instant healing would really have come in handy right then. With my clothes ripped and blood seeping from the places where my skin had been ripped away from my body, I stumbled into the woods. I found a tree, huddled under it, and spent the night trying to sleep away the pain.

  When I did sleep, I dreamed. It was the same dream. There was a lot of blood. There was a lot of shooting. I was always doing it. Shooting people. Sometimes for good reasons, or at least it seemed that way in the beginning. Either they lied to me and told me it was for a good reason, or someone I cared about was in danger. And then... then the reasons weren’t so good anymore. I couldn’t count the number of people I’d killed.

  It was a relief to wake up to the aches in my body. Physical pain was real and bright. It blotted out all the noise in my head. I liked it so much that I didn’t even think about doing anything to clean my scrapes. I pushed through the woods. Every step hurt. Every step kept the memories at bay. The tortured faces. The screams. The begging and pleading. “Don’t. Please don’t hurt me.” And I pulled the trigger anyway.

  I stuffed leaves into my mouth and chewed them as I walked. When I wasn’t glorying in the way the physical pain kept my guilt away, I tried to figure out my situation. I hadn’t gotten very far in the car before I’d thrown myself out, so it was safe to say that I was still in Minnesota. It would take nearly twenty-four straight hours driving in a car to get to D.C. from here. Hitchhiking was out and so was any kind of public transportation. No one could see me. How could I get a car without anyone seeing me?

  Steal one from the driveway of a house at night while the people who owned it slept inside?

  Sure. Except for the fact that car theft never happened anymore, which meant that Kieran and Eve would immediately know that I was the one who stole the car. They’d know everything about the car. Its color, make, model, plates. How long would it take for them to track me down when everyone in the whole country was watching for it?

  I should probably stay away. I’d run away so that I could keep Chance and Azazel from my darkness. Going to them now was only bringing them more danger. But she’d left messages meant for me. She wanted me to find her. Maybe I was causing her pain by staying away.

  Could that even be possible? After she’d been away from me for this long, hadn’t she realized how much better off she was without me? Whatever she’d thought she felt for me, certainly she’d realized that it was only because I’d twisted her in my own dark way. I was bad for her. She knew that now, didn’t she?

  I was thirsty. Eventually, I’d need to drink water or I’d die. I’d decided a long time ago that death was too good for me so I needed to stay alive. I crashed around in the woods for a while, looking for a stream. Instead, I found the road again. There was a gas station and a restaurant outside the tree line. If I went there, someone would see me. Kieran would find me. I crept forward anyway and snuck up to the back of the building.

  Crouching in the tall grass behind the restaurant, I peered inside a window. It was nearly empty inside. I guess business wasn’t booming that day. There was a television on in the corner. The two servers were staring at it. My face was on the screen. In large letters underneath, it said my name and the words, “Watch him.”

  I sagged against the building, lowering myself from the window. Great. Now I was public enemy number one. That was fine; I was used to it. I’d been on the run for most of my life. Sure, things hadn’t been quite this difficult back then, but I knew how to handle myself when I was running from someone. I knew how to keep from being discovered. I ran through my internal checklist of things to do when being chased. Change my appearance. Use untraceable funds, like cash or fake credit cards. That didn’t matter much these days. No one used money. Everyone was so happy that they just gave other people whatever they wanted.

  I was sticky with dried blood. M
y face and the entire right half of my body were scraped up. My clothes were torn and ragged. I wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. How was I going to change my appearance, exactly?

  The only way to ensure that Kieran couldn’t see someone was if they’d been chewing the leaves. Was there some way I could get someone to chew the leaves without seeing me? Like if I waited in this parking lot near a car until the driver came to it, knocked the person out from behind, and then shoved leaves into his or her mouth? I could take that person’s clothes, I guess, which would be better than nothing for changing my appearance. I could take his or her car. No, it would have to be a guy. A guy with a hat. I’d need something to obscure my face. By the time the guy woke up and the effects of the leaves wore off, Kieran would have no idea where I was. He’d be able to trace the car at that point, I supposed, but the effects of the leaves lasted about a day. If I drove straight through, I could make it to D.C. by then.

  Should I go?

  I had to go.

  I scoped out the parking lot for hours. Several people came out of the restaurant. None of them were men with hats. I was getting thirstier. But I waited.

  Eventually, a car pulled up, and a man wearing a baseball cap got out of it. He was about my height, but he was heavier. It didn’t matter, I decided. I’d been waiting with a heavy rock in my hand to knock whoever owned the car out. I crept toward the man, holding the rock in one hand, keeping out of his sight as best I could. He was walking toward the door of the restaurant, and I was running out of time, so I darted behind him, raising the rock over my head.

  And hesitated. I was going to hurt him, wasn’t I? Hadn’t I promised myself that I’d never hurt someone, never again?

  He’d seen me move out of the corner of his eye. He was turning, startled—

  I brought the rock down on his skull.

  He made a little yelp and fell to the ground. I dragged him behind the car, checking for a pulse. Alive. He was alive.

  But his lifeless body made me feel sick inside. It brought too many memories to mind, too many other lifeless bodies lying next to me. I struggled to push the memories back, to keep control. I fumbled with my bag of leaves, shoving a handful into the man’s mouth.

  You didn’t kill him, I reassured myself. He’s alive. He’s going to be okay.

  I yanked the baseball cap off of his head and put it on my own. I had to get out of there. Now.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I left the guy’s body hidden in the tall grass behind the restaurant and took his car. There was a half-drunk Coca-Cola in it. It was warm, but I didn’t care. I downed the entire thing. It helped my thirst a little, but not a lot. Too sugary. I needed water, but I couldn’t let anyone see me.

  I drove through the afternoon and evening. I hid behind the bill of the baseball cap and kept the visor down in the car. I didn’t think anyone else on the road recognized me. I was still thirsty.

  I listened to the radio. They were talking about me. They read descriptions of me. They told everyone to be on the lookout for me. They didn’t say anything about the car I was driving. Hopefully, my plan had worked.

  I drove as the darkness settled, the states starting to fly by. I was getting closer. Late at night, I decided to chance breaking into a closed convenience store for water. It went okay. I had to break a window, but I got the water I needed. I also stole some Red Bull. I was starting to feel tired. The water tasted so good as I drank it. As I started to nod off at the wheel later, I was grateful for the Red Bull as well. But a few hours later, a bulletin came on the radio about my theft. I hadn’t been seen, but the only person who would rob a store would be me. Kieran knew my location. Everyone knew my location.

  By this time, I was somewhere in Ohio. That meant that Kieran knew I was still heading east. For all he knew, I was still going to Jasontown, though. I had to be stealthy and quick from here on out. I wanted to pick up my speed and streak across the roads, but I didn’t want to attract attention, so I tried to keep my speed level with the cars around me. I drove and drove. And drank more Red Bull. And drove some more.

  The sun came up. I kept driving.

  I was in Georgetown by midmorning.

  I was exhausted. I didn’t know where to find Azazel, if she was even still here. I didn’t know where the apartment was that she and Kieran had lived in when they worked for the Order of the Fly, the government that had been in place before Kieran and Eve took over. I didn’t know my way around Georgetown either. Furthermore, if Kieran found out about this car soon, it was better if I wasn’t anywhere in it.

  I drove the car to downtown D.C., to the mall. I parked it near the Lincoln monument. Then I lost myself in the sight-seeing crowds at D.C. I followed a group of school children up to the Lincoln monument. Then I looked at it. It was like that Planet of the Apes remake. It wasn’t Lincoln anymore. It was Kieran. I cocked my head and stared at it. I couldn’t believe it. How had I missed this happening?

  I took a walk around the rest of D.C. All of the monuments had been defaced or renamed in honor of Kieran and Eve. It was truly a brave, new world.

  Eventually, the exhaustion caught up with me. I broke into a closet in one of the Smithsonian museums. I fell asleep. The dreams were as bad as they usually were.

  * * *

  I woke up to someone shaking me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Jason?”

  I opened my eyes. There was a tall guy standing over me. He had short-cropped curly hair and a goatee. He looked annoyed. He also looked familiar.

  He thrust a handkerchief at me. “Wipe the blood off your face.”

  Right. I’d gotten pretty scraped up when I’d jumped out of that car with Kieran. I guessed I’d never cleaned myself up. I took the handkerchief and mopped at my forehead. I squinted at the guy. “Hey, I know you.”

  “Graham,” he said. “From Columbus. I worked with Hallam and Marlena.”

  My squint deepened. “Really?”

  “Really,” he said. “We have to get you out of here. Kieran and Eve are going to find you pretty easily if you take naps in the Smithsonian.”

  “So, you’re on my side?” I said, feeling confused. I didn’t really remember this guy. His face looked familiar, but...

  He made a face. “I’m on Azazel’s side. All I remember about you is severed fingers.”

  I winced. But he’d said Azazel. “She’s here?”

  “We can’t keep talking in a closet in the Smithsonian,” he said. “We have to get out of here. Fast.”

  Graham and I left the closet together, after he scoped out the people outside to make sure they wouldn’t notice us. Then, telling me to follow him, he led me into the crowds who were browsing the Smithsonian. According to Graham, if we minded our business and blended in with the other people, we wouldn’t be noticed. I followed him out of the museum, into the streets, and down into the metro tunnel. I’d never spent much time in the D.C. underground transit system, but it was a lot like the New York subway tunnels. Dark, dirty, and crowded. Graham and I got on a train. We were surrounded by people, so I didn’t ask any questions, but I was curious as to where the heck he was taking me. After about two stops, we got off.

  Graham wound through the people getting on and off the train. I trailed behind him. We walked down the tunnel, past benches where people sat reading newspapers that had pictures of Kieran and Eve smiling on the front page.

  Graham jumped down off the platform and into the area where the tracks stretched off into the darkness. He started walking down the center, between the tracks. This seemed dangerous to me. After all, trains went down those tracks. Maybe Graham was leading me someplace for a double suicide. I considered whether or not I cared that much. Then I followed him.

  Once we’d been swallowed up by darkness, Graham hopped up out of the tracks and flicked on a flashlight. In its gleam, I could see that a gaping hole had been hammered out in the side of the metro tunnel. Graham went through it. I went after him. We walked in darkness for several feet. It was
musty and dank, and I was pretty sure I could hear rats scuttling about somewhere. We turned a corner, and there was light.

  We emerged into a tunneled-out room. The walls were earthen, buoyed up in some places by stones and chunks of concrete. It was lit by strands of Christmas lights which crisscrossed the low ceiling. Two men stood in front of another gaping hole/doorway. They were holding machine guns. They nodded at Graham and moved out of our way. We continued through into another room. It was much bigger, but similarly lit and constructed. I could see ramshackle huts constructed out of plywood and cardboard. People were sitting outside of them on overturned buckets and rusty lawn chairs. A few dirty children chased each other, laughing as they wound through the huts.

  Graham held out his arms. “Welcome to the Resistance, Jason.”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  Several of the people sitting outside the huts looked up and saw us. A man got to his feet and started toward us. As he got closer, I recognized him. Hallam.

  He was bulkier, but slimmer, as if he’d been working out but hadn’t had much to eat. He had an unkempt beard. There were lines around his eyes. On his forehead. He looked older and wearier. Our gazes locked.

  I had a flash. Hallam stood in the center of a kitchen, surrounded by the bodies of college girls. There was blood on his face. His eyes were wild. He said, “I’ll always have your back like that.”

  I shook myself, and I was back in the tunnels beneath Washington, D.C. Hallam stood in front of me. His expression was wary. We hadn’t parted on good terms. We hadn’t spoken in a long time. “Hallam,” I said.

  “Jason,” he said. His British accent was getting muddled. Too much time around yanks, undoubtedly. He hesitated for a minute and then stuck out his hand.

  I took it. We shook.

  Hallam looked at Graham. “You found him okay?”

  Graham nodded. “He was right where Agnes said he’d be.”

  Agnes? That name sounded familiar. I tried to remember how I knew it. “The woman from Tuscany that Azazel saw in a dream?” I said. “The one who blessed Michaela before I was born? She’s here?”