Not good, not good... Rick thought. He jogged over to Sergei and Isaac. At his approach, the Russian scowled as though detecting a foul odor.
"What do you want?" Sergei asked in a harsh tone.
Rick chewed his lip, ignoring the hostility. "I'm worried about what we'll find when we arrive. It almost seems like these 'random' attacks are specifically to slow us down."
"We have our forces and tactics under control, so if you'll excuse-"
Isaac interrupted Sergei's dismissal. "We were just discussing that very thing when you walked up. We have concerns about walking into-"
Sergei cut in. "We do not need to discuss our battle plans or worries with this man." He leveled a gaze at Rick. "You have not yet proven yourself worthy of even the most basic trust."
Sighing, Rick replied, "Look, how many times do I have to tell you-"
"It's not so simple, is it?" Sergei interrupted. "Whether or not you had anything to do with the betrayal means nothing at present. Our impression tells us you are not to be trusted." He looked to Isaac for confirmation, and the man gave a reluctant nod. "All we have thus far is your word on a great number of things. If your word is proven to be good, then perhaps I will alter my opinion of you. Until then, do not expect any kind words."
Rick was taken aback, not by the dismissal but by how coherent the Russian's argument seemed. Still frustrated to no end by being ostracized for something he had no hand in, he at least understood Sergei's position and even respected it to a certain extent.
Adrenaline shot into his system, a common occurrence every so often, as someone shouted, "Contact!" A short burst of gunfire resulted, and his attention snapped to the back end of the circle.
After a moment of investigation, calls of, "All clear," threaded through the ranks. Peering through the soldiers, Rick saw a fresh body on the ground: another dispatched attacker.
Far from comfort at not losing any people in the endeavor thus far, Rick continued to feel a significant amount of unease. He found himself counting the number of soldiers they had over and over, fearing what they were walking into would require quite a bit more. No matter how many times he said it, he just kept getting brushed off.
Even worse was the presence of Kaylee and Cass, who walked among the circle, watching the shadows with wide-eyed paranoia. Every tiny fiber of his being wished they hadn't come with.
"How many is that?" he heard Cass whisper to Kaylee. "Twenty or twenty-one?"
Kaylee frowned. "I lost count at twelve."
They held light-hearted conversation, but Rick could sense a great deal of tension in their voices. It's understandable that they're nervous. Hell, I'm pretty damn nervous myself.
Technically under Sergei and Isaac's command, even with insubordination, Kaylee had been ordered to come with. He sensed different reasoning than her potential contribution to any sort of fighting. Maybe it's as much about keeping an eye on her as anything else. They'll probably punish her when they get back. He allowed a tiny portion of malice to sweep through him at the mere possibility.
Though Rick wanted to cultivate the shaky levels of trust beginning to form with Sergei and Isaac, he decided never to allow harm to come to Kaylee. No matter what it means for those pricks or the rest of this damned city, he thought.
Cass, on the other hand, came with because only she and a few others from the school were willing combatants. An argument had raised before they left, Sergei adamant about gaining a few able-bodied men from Desmond and Olivia's people.
Rick had insisted they were non-combatants, but Sergei expressed reluctance to risk his people in protection while the civilians stayed behind. Before things could break down again, a few volunteers stepped forward, including the girl. Rick didn't like it, and even Sergei had appeared uncomfortable. Don't like to press kids into service, huh? Well, you shouldn't have brought it up.
"Look at him. He's so used to shit like this that he's daydreaming."
Rick blinked, snapping out of his thoughts and noticing Cass and Kaylee staring at him. "Huh?"
"See?" Kaylee nudged the girl. "Doesn't even pay attention."
He folded his arms. "Why would I need to worry or pay attention when I have such dedicated guardians about?" This drew tiny smirks out of both companions, but the tension they all felt quickly dissolved any positive feelings. Rick jerked his head toward Sergei and Isaac, lowering his voice. "I'm trying to figure out whether or not they'll take us prisoner when this is done."
Kaylee shrugged, returning her attention to the shadows beyond the first line of moving soldiers. "We'll just have to trust that they'll have some kind of honor or decency." This last statement she spoke loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. After it, Rick held eye contact with her for a moment, and she gave her head a slight shake.
He raised an eyebrow and made a quick pantomime with his two fingers running across his arm. She nodded.
Knowing they agreed to run if necessary provided Rick a measure of calm, but he still preferred if some manner of alliance or understanding could be reached. Considering their prior behavior, he didn't hold much hope. Running and fighting might not be necessary, but at least both she and I are on the same page and will be ready for it.
Rick smiled at the girl. "You catch that?"
"Yep," Cass said.
"Good."
Michaels also posed a problem, shuffling awkwardly and alone in the center of the formation. For some reason, Sergei insisted upon him coming as well. The doc had balked, but a short, hushed discussion apparently changed his mind. He kept himself aloof and apart, however. Is it me, or is there a bit of tension between those two? Rick wondered, eyeing Michaels and Kaylee; the researcher kept glancing over at her with irritated expressions.
Oh well, Rick thought, at least Quinton didn't talk like he'd be coming along with those injuries. Indeed, the old man didn't seem at all interested in leaving, but Rick wondered if he wanted to stay and protect the school. Maybe the old guy was being practical, who knows?
Another burst of gunfire and a downed attacker brought his attention back to task. Whatever, he thought. There's enough to worry about right now without letting my mind wander off.
******
The smell of smoke and a pounding head greeted Tanya when she awoke. Her recollection sluggish, various places on her body rang with splitting pain. Nausea roiled through her stomach, and only clenched teeth and sheer will settled it without incident.
Her eyes opened.
She laid against the far wall of the lab, blood oozing from cuts. Dust hung thick in the air, coating her skin and stinging her blurry eyes. The sound of crackling, a small fire, came from somewhere nearby, mostly obscured by a blaring alarm. Cool air brushed across her skin, which bathed in an irregular red light. A thudding, painful tilt of her head revealed a gaping hole in the wall two feet from her back, opening into the park on the east side of the Institute.
Explosions... more than one? her muddled mind tried to recall. First, when Eugene and I were on patrol.
The thought of Eugene evaporated situation concern and fired memories into her mind. The sight of him riddled with bullet wounds returned to her. "Eugene, oh God, Eugene," she whispered, tasting blood in her mouth.
She tried to rise, but shredding pain in her legs prevented excess movement. She flexed her hands and arms, feeling soreness from impact and burns, but they appeared functional.
In a methodical and laborious effort, she planted her palms on the ground and forced herself upward to a sitting position against the wall. Eugene is outside... I have to... I have to get back to him...
Rampant desire to find Eugene increased, and she tried again to move, to rise. The pain slammed into her, no less intense and forcing her to sit back. She shivered, a constant breeze flowing over her body.
Blinking, she gradually became aware of a rushing sound, like wind, underneath the blasting alarms. Through the haze and flickering red light, she noticed open slots on the walls and ceiling. The dust in the air fl
owed toward them.
She coughed, hacking hard, and she again tasted blood.
Fans... the alarms...why are they...?
Through the dust and smoke, her eyes and mind landed on firm grounding. Strong clarity resulted, cutting through her weak and jumbled thoughts. The memory of a secondary explosion, a moment before she smashed into the wall, came forth.
The first to open the lab, she thought. The second to destroy its contents.
Sabotage.
Through the flaring red lights and haze of the room, she saw the remnants of the Citizen contingency plan scattered about. Shredded metal, plastic, and liquid coated the floor.
Her body became wracked with a coughing fit, her insides splitting with pain as her chest heaved. She spat up a mouthful of blood.
Terror clutched in her heart as she came to one final realization. Hidden fans running inside a laboratory, alarms blaring, broken vessels which contained a deadly poisonous agent...
What hung in the air and flowed into the emergency fan system was not only dust from the explosions. It was chemicals from the containers.
Tanya coughed again.
******
The attacks by random maniacs had ceased roughly two miles prior to arrival at the infamous square in front of Heavenly Bodies.
Rick repeated caution regarding simply walking in when the enemy most certainly knew of their approach, but Sergei dismissed any concerns. Rick knew to a certain extent they were right; it wouldn't exactly be feasible to search all nearby buildings with their fifty-odd people.
Still, walking into all manner of unknown made him extremely nervous. The majority of soldiers were among Sergei and Isaac's finest. Apparently brought out originally as a hunting party for Malcolm if what Kaylee said was right, he thought with a bitter smirk. At least we've reallocated their supposed skill to a more useful pursuit.
Their rate of progress didn't increase with the cessation of attacks either. No one allowed vigilance to slip, even for the sake of expedience. Far from reassurance that numbers dwindled for the enemy forces, that they had broken some level of morale, or indeed any positive consequence existed to their slow movement and wholesale slaughter of dozens of those people, the group tension level remained high.
No relaxation to be gained, every moment increased the anticipation of another one or two people jumping out. Or worse, an all-out assault by hundreds.
Hundreds was the theoretical number floating around for how many crazed-yet-organized attackers they'd find. Chatter among the soldiers present and even the leaders Sergei and Isaac was intermittent, simple speculation to avoid the maddening silence. No one could really guess how many people they faced, but most thought it couldn't be too many.
I guess we have to hope their larger-scale battle tactics aren't any different than their individual ones, Rick thought. Unless they've got thousands of people, we should have enough ammo to clean 'em out. He tried to reassure himself, but the situation made him nervous.
Hushed footfalls marked the advancing party as they entered the square next to Heavenly Bodies. Unbidden, the memories of his last encounter in that place rushed into Rick's mind. By the frown on Kaylee's face, and the narrowing eyes of Sergei and Isaac, he thought everyone else may have been remembering it themselves.
Funny, we had the beginnings of peace between the original factions back then, even with the carnage before and after. Maybe the same thing'll happen again, Rick thought, peering into the darkness all around. Fewer street lamps appeared to be in operation since his last visit, but enough functioned to grant partial vision of the general vicinity.
Excepting the traveling party, absolutely no one could be seen.
"Keep our boundaries established. Two lines of defense, and for God's sake, keep your eyes open," Sergei called out. The soldiers obeyed without question, maintaining the same circular formation, but now setting up as immobile.
Sergei and Isaac, in the middle of the circle, became embroiled in some discussion of harsh whispering. With an occasional angry glance shot in Rick's direction, he breathed an internal sigh of weariness. Gee, I wonder if they're thinking I wasted their time with this.
"They don't seem too happy," Kaylee crossed over to Rick's side, whispering.
"No, they don't," Rick replied, distracted and trying to decide whether or not walking over to his allies/enemies would be a good idea. He spared her a glance. "Aren't you supposed to be watching for bad guys?"
She threw a gesture to the side. "They're not going to miss one pair of eyes. It's not like much is going on, and besides, I had Cass and the doc hold my place for me."
Rick scowled. "She's just a kid, and he's no bloody use to anyone in a fight. Neither of them should be here."
"Hah." Kaylee punched him on the shoulder. "I seem to remember a time not long ago when you said pretty much the same thing about me."
"Yeah, well, I don't think you should be here either," he said, leaning forward and trying to catch what Sergei and Isaac were saying. He didn't pay much attention to his own words; the developing situation among potential enemies seemed more important. "For different reasons, I guess."
The two OHU leaders now appeared to be leaning over a scrap of paper and occasionally pointing in varied directions. A map, probably, Rick thought.
Part of him stayed aware of his conversation with Kaylee, and he realized she had stopped speaking. He turned back and saw her staring at him with a surprised expression.
He blinked. "What? What's wrong?"
"What reasons?" she asked.
Rick's mind stalled, entirely oblivious. "Reasons... huh?"
"You said you didn't think I should be here, but for different reasons." She took a deep breath. "So... why then?"
Some part of his mind knew full well what he had said only seconds earlier. However, now focusing on the conversation, he couldn't imagine why he had released such an admission so easily. Eyes growing wide, his mouth flapped up and down without articulation or sound.
They stared at each other, dangerously close to speaking further, to admitting certain things to themselves and each other. Wherever they were and whatever situation went on around them seemed less important than the sudden curtain of tension.
Oh God, what the heck is wrong with me? Rick thought. Oh, by the way Kaylee, we're probably going to be fighting to the death with a group of crazies pretty soon, but I think I'll distract us both by making some ridiculous admissions about how I...
"Well?" Kaylee asked in a small voice. "Say something."
Rick hung his head, mind ablaze with absurd desires to scoop up Kaylee, run far away, and hide with just the two of them somewhere in the city. This and thoughts like it were only entertained on the rarest of instances, never to be spoken out loud. Too much to do, too much to take care of in this shit-hole. Can't afford distractions right now.
"We both know the reasons," Rick finally spoke, "but now is so far from the time to discuss them." He tried to express his usual grin, but the light disappointment on her face marred any attempt at comforting.
He put his hands on her shoulders. "Soon, Kaylee. I promise if we survive this, we will have this conversation."
She gave a reluctant nod. "Okay, but I'm gonna hold you to..." she trailed off, peering over Rick's shoulder in the direction of the former bondage club. Across from Miguel's former base of operations, Heavenly Bodies, sat the title-thematic building called The Dungeon.
"Contact!" one of the sentries on that end of the circle shouted, and all attention turned towards the building.
A grinning, bearded man wearing stained white clothing stepped out of the doorway and walked halfway down the steps leading into the bondage club. He paused there, hands resting on his chest. A group of Sergei and Isaac's troops broke the circle and positioned themselves into a firing line.
Next to Rick, Kaylee gasped as the two OHU leaders stepped up behind their firing line. "Oh God..." she whispered. "It's him. It's really him."
The man on th
e steps threw his arms wide open. "Good evening, my friends. I'm so very glad you could attend this gathering of souls. It promises to be a rather eventful night. I am called Nigel, and I will be your gracious host. Come my children! The Light shines upon us all. Let us taste of what it means to be chosen! Let us bathe in the glory of rebirth!"
The man on the stairs clapped his hands once, and an overwhelming sense of dread coursed through Rick's body.
Uh oh, he thought.
Chapter 8: Death of a Citizen
Former Citizen Nigel, not always a cannibalistic, raving lunatic, had been supremely bored with his life. Long before idiotic ideas of exploring Old Haven, long before hideous torture, and ages it seemed before he became the head of a cult with many similar, broken-minded individuals, he served as an accountant.
Mid-level Citizenship but not directly employed through government channels, he enjoyed a roughly upper-middle class by Citizen standards. Though poverty was nonexistent, of course ignoring the dregs in Old Haven, certain factors including societal tasks, certain possessions, and varied acquaintances determined social standing.
Nigel, who no longer recalled his last name, had a vehicle, a servant named Paul, and many friends of distinction. Some of said friends owned several vehicles and servants, and some even retained majority shares of real estate and other companies within the city. A few could have their words and desires filtered over and at least brought up if not heeded at council meetings. No real influence, but enough to where their lives were luxurious and envied.
Many of the people who Nigel knew and associated with were above him in station. However, his financial expertise brought him into their confidence, and it reflected in his living situation and social status. Being beneath them provided no bother, considering the perks.
Exodus (The Fall of Haven) Page 15
