by Rebecca Rode
I scrambled over to her as she gasped and gurgled. For a second I thought it was the broth I’d fed to her a few minutes ago, but then a trickle of blood escaped her mouth and dribbled down her chin.
I lifted her into a sitting position so she could breathe easier. Her head flopped forward, her body twitching, and I pulled her against my side to keep her up. Blood dripped from her mouth onto the blankets as the gurgling continued. She sounded like a drowning person.
Once, when I was six, I caught pneumonia and lay in bed for three days. My mom propped me up in front of the TV and put salve on my chest every two hours. It burned, but I let her because I was too weak to fight. One night I woke up coughing, wheezing, fighting for oxygen. My sobs came out in bursts, and then not at all. I couldn’t find the air to cry.
Within seconds, Mom was there. She lifted me up and began to pound on my back, sending me into a long fit of coughing and gasping through my tears. Her eyes were wet when she finally stopped and pulled me into a hug. I fell asleep again in her arms.
Those same arms, pale and alarmingly thin, now hung uselessly by my mother’s side. But that memory gave me an idea.
I leaned her forward and began to pound. “Breathe!”
Each strike made her body flop. She gasped and blood splattered on my shirt, but I pounded harder, as if I could smack the sickness right out of her. It wasn’t helping—the wheezing continued.
“Come on,” I yelled. “Breathe!”
I thought of my dad and how he should have been the one doing this, how he would never have left her side, how I deserved to die at that ugly man’s hand and not him. I thought of Biyu’s kiss and her faith in me.
I thought of my brother and sister and how hard their absence was on Mom. Would she have wanted to fight if Ally were here? Jason? I was the disappointment, the one who killed Dad. The one who made her give up on life. I shouldn’t be the one to care for her.
Now we were all scattered across a broken land, each light fading out one at a time.
Mom’s body lurched and flopped weakly in my arms as she struggled for precious oxygen. I held her all the while, just as she’d done for me. My strong, beautiful mother, so confident with a rifle. Her plea for her family to be safe. Her instincts that turned out to be exactly right, and the pain she’d borne when Dad died.
“Please,” I whispered. “Not yet. We’re in this together, just you and me. We need each other. Please.”
She never opened her eyes. She just slowly fell back against me and the breath went out of her with a long sigh.
I pounded for another minute, still pleading. I used every argument I could think of. I yelled at her and Dad, at Lyman and God. But after a few minutes I knew it was useless.
She was gone.
Her chin was covered in wet blood as I lay her onto the pillow. Her hair splayed out all around her like a halo in a Renaissance painting, her eyes closed and still. I wiped her chin with the blanket and swallowed down the wrenching sobs that threatened to overwhelm me.
I was supposed to meet those men right as my mother died. I could have. Nothing held me back now. I was dispensable, unattached. But the fire of determination had fizzled. Instead, my insides were cold and dead, like a broken tree against a storm.
I’m not sure how long it was before gunshots sounded in the distance. A series of pops and yells and a man screaming in the distance were the only evidence that something had happened. I lay awake all night by Mom’s rapidly chilling body and listened for returning footsteps. There was nothing.
The next morning Lyman came out and announced that another clan had attacked the cave in the night and several brave men had been killed defending it. I came out and watched as six more bodies were dragged to the bonfire. Lyman raised his voice over the tents and asked if there were any other dead to burn. I just returned to the tent and stared at the ground.
I waited all day until darkness fell and the camp went to bed. Then I stole a shovel and went for a hike. I hadn’t eaten or slept in two days, and the forest spun in my vision, causing the climb to take far longer than it should have. I stopped several times to catch my breath, wishing I’d brought Mom’s water bottle with me.
I found it about a quarter mile up—the perfect hill. It overlooked the Nevada desert where Mom grew up, and some huge, old trees hung over the spot protectively. It took four hours to break up the frozen ground and dig a shallow grave. It was slow going with my weakened state. Just before sunrise, I trudged down the hill and retrieved my mother’s body for her final resting place. Even in my weakened state, she wasn’t as heavy as she should have been.
I placed her in the hole and crossed her arms over her chest. There were no flowers this time of year, so I just kissed her cheek and positioned her hair the way she’d want.
I’d only been to one funeral in my life and I couldn’t remember what the pastor said, so I made up my own ceremony. I told God my mom was coming and to treat her right. I told Dad they could be together now. I even talked to Ally, if she was up there, and told Jason how he hurt Mom by leaving and refusing to call.
And I talked to Mom, told her how much I loved her and said not to worry, that I’d be fine here.
I doubt she believed me. I never was a good liar.
I closed the book and shoved it under my pillow, wondering what my mom was doing right now. We’d been close once. I missed those days.
Poor Richard. I had expected this diary to read more like a history lesson—a wise, experienced old man telling his story in that “let me teach you about life” kind of way. I hoped my great-great-grandfather’s words would extend across generations and give me solutions to today’s problems. But his diary was so different than that, so raw and real that he had somehow become a friend, or somehow even an extension of myself.
With a sigh, I pulled the diary out again and stuffed it into my shoulder bag. I needed Richard’s strength with me tonight. Vance was gone. I couldn’t tell Jasper my plans, or he would tie me to a chair—or maybe even force me onto an air transport to head home. But if this younger version of Richard Peak were in my place, he would have done the same thing I was. I felt it somehow, deep inside.
My bedroom had been cleaned up when I returned from the convention and the bed remade, although repairing the charred blast holes in the walls and the washroom would require some serious reconstruction. Augustus’s guards had hauled the ugly drone away this morning while Finley watched, probably to make sure no pieces were left behind.
Jasper had returned shortly after my conversation with Chan, frustrated at the lack of affordable accommodations here. He’d found a place near the docks with two bedrooms and decided to split our travel party into two groups, women and men. That meant ten men in one room and two women in the other—not exactly comfortable for the men.
“It stinks down there, and it’ll be cramped, but it’s the best I can do for now,” he’d said as if that settled it. I informed him I wanted to stay here one more night, which sent him into an angry tirade about sitting ducks and needlessly risking my life. I listened but stood firm. I’d never be able to sneak out of a two-bedroom apartment by the docks, and I refused to take the entire travel party with me on a mission this risky.
Jasper had finally stalked outside, probably to spread the word to our soldiers. True to his word, Augustus had doubled his guard outside the doors. It was one loud, crowded group out there now. Thank the fates for Chan and his secret passage.
I opened the door a crack and peered out. Finley and Jasper were draped across the two larger sofas in the main living room. Soft snores rose from Finley’s lips. Sneaking past without waking them would only be the beginning of tonight’s challenges.
I checked the wall screen again. 22:53. Nearly time.
I dressed in an old black EPIC uniform I’d brought from home. Still too large, but it hung comfortably, like a childhood blanket. The moment I put it on, my blood ran faster and my mind snapped into focus. Tonight I was an assassin. I wouldn’t re
turn until I’d done what I came to do.
At 23:00, I adjusted the shoulder bag and crept out my bedroom door into the darkness of the living room. Finley’s soft snores continued. Jasper’s dark form, feet propped up onto the armrest, was completely still. Vance had once spent the night in that very sofa, in much the same position.
Vance. If something happened to me tonight, he would be devastated.
I shoved the guilt away and replaced it with an iron determination. He’d given up his right to an opinion when he left.
It took a minute to find the right root. When I pressed it, the chute opened with a gentle sigh of air. I positioned myself at the top, then threw one last look at my father, hoping he would understand. He had made a sacrifice once, even if I didn’t agree with his reasons. I could only hope he would try to understand mine.
The slide down was barely wet this time. The tree-watering system probably hadn’t been initiated today. When I reached the bottom and stood, I froze.
I wasn’t alone. I couldn’t see in the blackness, but I could sense someone there. Maybe more than one.
“Who’s there?” I whispered.
“It’s Chan,” he said from my right side. “There’s something else I need to tell you. I know you wanted to go alone, but—I can’t let you do that. I recruited a few of your guards to help.”
I groaned. “You told my guards? How many?”
“There are four of us, Ambassador,” a deep voice said. “We’re at your service.”
Four. That meant five other people I’d have to protect on this mission. And I’d agreed to move tomorrow, which meant this was our only chance. I couldn’t exactly back out now.
“Did he tell you the purpose of this mission?” I asked the dark room.
“We’re neutralizing a threat,” he said. “Don’t worry, we know the risks.”
“It’s a pleasure, Ambassador,” another man said.
“Definitely a plan I can get behind,” another said. “Never been one to sit about and watch.”
Something squeaked behind me as if someone else was sliding down the chute. I stumbled forward and whirled around, leaping into fighting stance. “Who’s there?”
“I knew it,” Finley said. “You’re going to kill Chiu, aren’t you.”
I threw my hands into the air. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know my secret plan?”
“Jasper doesn’t,” Finley said. “He’s still asleep. And the outside guards have no clue. I figured you’d sneak out tonight, so I faked sleep and waited. How many of us are here?”
“Four,” the guard repeated.
“Good. I’m taking command of this NORA unit,” she said, grabbing my arm and slipping a stunner into my hand. “Besides, someone needs to show your lousy outlander boyfriend how real bodyguards work. Let’s go.”
We arrived before my plan had solidified in my head. Chiu’s building appeared dark and quiet as we crouched around the corner. I examined the structure, trying to picture its floor plan. There were a few windows, but they didn’t look like the type that opened. The main floor likely had a kitchen and a seating area. Surely the man slept in the highest level of the building where it was most secure. If the bedroom was on the third level, what was on the second?
No guards were stationed outside, like before, but Finley ordered the soldiers to sweep around the building to make sure. “Stay here with Chan,” she whispered to me, handing me an extra stunner. “Unless you’re discovered, do not move from this spot until we come back. See you in five.” Then the group silently trotted away, weapons ready.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Chan whispered next to me as we crouched in the shadows.
I nodded. “Yes.” My stomach clenched, and I felt a wave of nausea sweep through me. No. I didn’t want to do this, and I’d never been less sure in my life. But what choice did I have at this point? Go home and tell everyone I’d failed? That Dresden was turning our country over without a fight? That he had convinced himself the Chinese would let us live when it was clear they wouldn’t?
“I still don’t think you understand your enemy,” Chan said. “If anything, killing him will make them more angry. They will want to avenge his death.”
“Then we can’t leave any evidence that it was us,” I said. “Chiu has many enemies in this city.” I pushed away the uneasy feeling in my gut and fingered the stunner in my pocket.
“We’ll need to break in through the back door,” I whispered, remembering Guard Lady’s perch inside near the front door. “Then we’ll sneak upstairs when it’s clear.”
Chan’s head whirled toward me. “No. They’ll expect that. We need to use the windows.”
“They’ll hear us if we break the glass.”
He grinned. “The window panes down here in the lower level are pretty aged. They’re made to open so residents can air out their homes. You just have to do a little coaxing.”
We waited a few more minutes. No figures were visible outside Chiu’s building, which worried me. My frown deepened as the minutes passed. Six, then ten, then twelve. The structure wasn’t large enough to warrant this delay.
Something was definitely wrong.
“We should go back,” Chan said. “Get help and figure out what to do.”
“If they caught them, they’d have sent soldiers out to look for others,” I said. “Right?”
“Not necessarily. It could be a trap.”
“Well, I’m not leaving them here.”
Chan sighed. “I knew you’d say that. Stay here, then.” A second later, he launched himself to his feet at a run toward Chiu’s building.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, but he was too far away to hear. He reached the side alley, then disappeared into the darkness.
Fates. Why did people keep insisting I stay here? I was supposed to be doing this alone, after all. Gritting my teeth, I followed Chan at a careful jog, scanning the area for any sign of movement. There was nothing.
I reached the alleyway in time to see him two stories up, hanging from a ledge. He paused for a moment, then swung himself into a crouched position on the windowsill.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The stone barely jutted out at all. How did he do that?
He examined the window, shrugged down at me, and pointed to my stunner. Cover me, he mouthed, then made his way slowly from one window to the next along the ledge. I turned away to keep watch.
Two minutes passed, and the second window didn’t seem to be an option either.
But Chan didn’t crawl down. Instead, he rounded the building to the back, where I couldn’t see him anymore.
I’d just begun to follow when someone spoke from behind me.
“You’ve finally returned.”
I whirled around and aimed at the first shadow I saw. Guard Lady stood with her stunner aimed at me, head cocked playfully.
“Drop your weapon if you want to see your friends again,” she said. “No running this time. Our Honored Dragon waits to speak with you.”
Questions filled my mind so quickly I could barely think. Finley and the others had been ambushed, but at least they were still alive. Had Chiu’s people waited in the shadows the past few nights, waiting for my return? How had they captured five trained NORA soldiers without a sound? Where was my team now? Had they found Chan?
I slid my arms into the air, stunner hanging loosely from my right hand. “You can’t simply arrest people for lingering around your building. I don’t know what your laws are in Beijing, but here in Liverpool, we are within our rights to walk about the city. I demand you release my bodyguards immediately or the convention will hear of this.”
“You think us fools.” She stepped forward and swiped the stunner from my hand, then stepped back with her weapon still trained on my chest. I watched it with an internal shudder. “The Dragon is preparing for his departure at this moment, so we must hurry.” With nearly inhuman speed, the woman grabbed my collar, then slammed me face-first into the side of the building.<
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I tottered, my vision blurring for a second or two, and a sticky, salty warmth flooded my nose. Hands fumbled with my wrists, then something cold clamped down so I couldn’t move. I fought a wave of dizziness and tried to get my mind clear as she pulled me back to my feet.
Then she marched me inside.
President Chiu sat on the main level, smoking an electronic cigarette. I remembered seeing one in the museum, but I’ve never seen one used before. He didn’t look tired at all, and he wore his usual suit.
I could see now that the building was actually hollow, a courtyard spanning all three levels. The interior was clean and sparse, much like a museum, and the wall hangings were perfectly symmetrical. Even President Chiu sat with perfect posture in his chair, like a king in his throne room. He blew a stream of smoke, watching me as Guard Lady threw me to my knees and backed away.
Chiu eyed me with little expression, then turned to my captor. “The others?”
“Holy and Exalted One, the child’s companions are downstairs, unconscious.”
“How dare you treat us like this,” I said, the salty blood pooling in my mouth. I wiped it on my shoulder. “This is ridiculous. We were just out for a walk—”
Pain slammed into my temple. I hit the ground and groaned. My side bag fell from my shoulder, and the book inside thumped to the ground.
“The unequal child will not address Our Honored Dragon in such a manner,” Guard Lady snapped, hovering overhead.
With a groan, I forced myself back onto my knees. The guard stepped back again, but there was a light in her eyes, like punching me had delighted the woman.
“The child comes as an assassin in the night,” Chiu said, “as the desperate always do. Interesting she believes assassination more honorable than the battlefield.”
“You’re the one who sent the killer drone,” I said. Kill or be killed. “And besides, sometimes it’s better to lose one person than millions.”
The guard stepped forward again, hand raised. I winced, but Chiu must have held out a hand to stop her because the blow never came. I dared to raise my head again.
