Kismet
Page 8
But the look Hyde is giving me isn’t lust; at least it isn’t pure lust. I see male appreciation, of course, but he watches me with curiosity deep in his eyes.
His first glance at the underground is one of amazement. We step from our little room, and he simply stares with his jaw dropping a little.
“Amazing, huh?”
“How do they power all this?”
“Shalana has a solar engineer that keeps all this running,” I reply. “I’m afraid the mechanics are a little much for my understanding, but Kris seemed to comprehend all the technobabble. He even understood how that damn cattle prod worked.”
Hyde glanced at me. “Kris has an amazing mind,” he said with a note of genuine admiration. “Out of all of us, the 281, that is, he’s the one who can build a nuclear reactor out of a soda can and a piece of string.”
“And just who are the men of the 281?”
As I ask the question, I start to walk toward the city center point, which isn’t far but far enough to keep the conversation going.
“Well, patrolling the West Side are Tobias Noble and Orion West,” he says with fondness. “About as different in temperament as you can get. They’re good partners because Orion controls Tobias, and that in itself is a miracle. And then there are the brothers, Gabe and Sar Ranieri, hitting the South Central portion of LA. Gabe is the medic in the team. His twin, Sar, is—” And here Hyde falters for a moment. His lips curl a fraction as if he’s struggling to figure out what he wants to say. “Sar is a fighter. A soldier through and through. He was burned really badly a few years ago, so he’s not real good with people.”
“Hmm, I think the first two probably got the better deal patrolling along the beach.” I love the beach. For a while I had lived on the coast of South Carolina, near Myrtle Beach, and it was heaven. That was the closest I had ever come to total freedom.
“I don’t know,” he replies. “I think Kris and I got pretty lucky.”
I shoot him a look, and his stares straight at me with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. It’s heat infused with fire and wrapped up in erotic magnetism. His green eyes practically glow with the promise of wonderful, masterful sex, and it makes me want to drag him back into the little room so we can fuck like bunnies. My heart hammers in my chest, and I think I actually sway toward him a little.
“Hola, Evie!”
The squeal of a little girl’s voice shatters my lust-filled thoughts, and I stagger a bit. Hyde shoots out a hand to steady me.
“Friend of yours?”
I clear my throat and put on a big smile to greet the little girl. “Hola, Isabel!”
Thank God for Isabel. She walks with us, chattering the whole time, though it’s not enough to distract me from Hyde.
When we arrive in the area dubbed “center point,” a crowd has already formed. It’s a large area where tables have been set up with platters of food. People hold out plates, and others give them proportioned food as they shuffle their way through the service line. We go to the end, and I see a stack of plates and utensils that everyone can share.
The line moves quickly, and it isn’t long until we’re sitting and lapping up the hot breakfast. I don’t know if it’s because it’s exceptionally prepared or if I simply haven’t had a decent meals in days, but I eat like a starving pig, inhaling my food instead of chewing it. It’s the best beans and fried dough I’ve ever eaten.
I notice Hyde is doing a great imitation of me.
Once we’re done scarping down our food, I sit our dishes aside and enjoy the moment of a full belly and no one shooting at us. I see Hyde look around the “city,” taking in the oddly constructed houses, the little streets that run in between them, and the overall feel of togetherness these people have managed to build together. I know he has questions, but so far he’s managed to keep them to himself.
Just then Isabel comes running back over, smiling, to take our dishes and utensils, telling me in Spanish that she will wash them. I thank her, and she trots off with the others who are the cleaners to the area designated for washing.
“Who is she?” Hyde asks. “And how did you and Kris find this place?”
All right, here it is, the point of lies or no lies. I’ve never been the type of person to hide, for whatever reason. I grew up in an in-your-face type of way, and I’ve lived my life the same. My gift is simply that, so there’s no use pretending it’s not a part of me.
“I can see certain things.”
But I can tell Hyde is lost since he’s missing key points of the story.
“I have visions of future events,” I revise. “Not all future events, only certain ones. And I can’t predict when or where I’m going to have them, nor can I tell you the lottery numbers.”
I give a halfhearted chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, but Hyde doesn’t laugh. Well, I thought it was funny, at least.
“Wait a minute,” he states, holding up a hand. “You said earlier that you’re not from here, that you volunteered. Did you, perchance, follow the 281?”
“No, I followed you and Kris.”
He sucks in his breath. “You had a vision of us? Is one of us in danger? Is Kris okay?”
“Actually, I’ve been having dreams of you and Kris all my life, and I’ve been following after you both for some time. But your company must move around a lot.”
“Yes,” he replies softly. “We do.”
“Aren’t you even a little bit skeptical? Astounded? Confused?”
“Why should I be?”
“Kris was,” I say and I end up telling him the story of how Kris and I found this underground city. “The other night I saved his life by pushing him out the way of a bullet, and today I saw you being shot.”
“But you said I was hit over the head by a cattle prod.”
“Yes,” I confirm. “So I can only guess that means that what I saw is coming soon.”
He remains quiet, watching me with those unbelievably beautiful eyes. This close I can see a dark ring circling the green orbs, the center starting out a darker forest green and radiating out toward a translucent shimmer. “Perhaps you’re a fairy,” he finally said, complete seriousness in his face and voice. “Or deity, perhaps? Corra, the Scottish goddess of prophecy. Or maybe you’re The Morrigan, come to announce our death call.”
I cock my head to study him a little more, trying to find the mockery I know must be lurking somewhere.
“So what will you bring me, Evie? Hm? Death or life?”
“When you were fourteen, you stole your father’s motorbike and tried to run away,” I say, watching the expressions on his face. I don’t know why I’m telling this story, maybe to egg him on to reveal what he’s really thinking. All he does, however, is wait for the rest of the story. “Your parents moved all the time, never staying in one place too long. When you started high school, you stole his bike and went back to your old school. Your father beat you for that.”
“My parents were from Ireland,” he says without missing a beat. “Actually, from Northern Ireland, and they were Catholic pretending to be Protestants. They came to America to hide, and years later, when I was born, they were still hiding, and so that’s how I got my name. But just because you leave terrorism behind for twenty-five years doesn’t mean there aren’t people still looking for you. My parents were killed in a car bomb, a gift from their old countrymen.”
“I know,” I reply, still holding his gaze. “You were taken into the system until you were old enough to join the military.”
He gives me a crooked smile. “I guess I got my wish to stay in one place through high school.”
“You believe me,” I say without a trace of wonderment or satisfaction. It’s a simple statement.
“Yes, I believe you. Your vision will save all these people, because there was no way that Kris or I could have found this. That’s a pretty cool superpower to have.”
I scowl. “I do not have a superpower.”
“A little touchy I see.”
“He did? Called you an angel?”
“Yes.” My mind wanders a moment, away from Hyde. I see Kris in my mind’s eye, the way he looked just before he told me good-bye. “He doesn’t let many people see the real him, the true him. But I did. I felt his heart.”
The memory of that last moment with Kris warms me all over. I smile. And then I look over at Hyde, and for a brief second, I think I see fury in his green eyes. I blink, and the look is gone.
“Kris is a hard man,” Hyde replies in a calm, thoughtful tone, making me believe I must have imagined the anger. “He doesn’t allow many people to get close to him or to touch him.”
I want to scream, It’s because he was molested! But of course, I don’t. I can’t. So I try to hedge around it. “Kris is hard on the outside,” I say, enunciating carefully. “But inside I think he’s got so much emotion that he doesn’t know how to express it.”
“You’ve slept with him,” Hyde said, and it wasn’t a question.
“That’s hardly any of your business.”
“Hm. I see.”
“What does that mean?” I demand.
“I’m a bit surprised, though. He doesn’t usually get involved with women.”
“You noticed?”
“It’s hard not to notice that your partner is always alone. Kris was the one who woke me up in time to drag me back to base before inspection came.”
I don’t say anything.
“I always wondered why,” he continues. “He’s had lots of opportunities. I can’t tell you how many girls wanted to ride that monster cock of his.”
I purse my lips at his crudeness but say nothing.
“Maybe a man that feels as deeply as Kris isn’t content with meaningless sex,” I finally say.
Hyde shakes his head. “I’ve often wondered if he was in love with me.”
I sputter in shock.
“I take it by your reaction that’s not it, but you do know what it is. He told you, but he didn’t tell me.”
I can see he’s confused, hurt maybe. But I promised, so I don’t say anything. After a moment Hyde turns away, dropping the subject. At least for now. But something shifted between us, I can tell, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.
Chapter Nine
One minute we’re sitting around, psychoanalyzing, and the next minute there is a loud bang as the world starts shaking itself to death. Everyone is flung to the ground, and it’s impossible to stand.
I hear screaming; I hear debris crashing, but I can’t lift my head. I’m almost to the point of being scared when the violent shaking abruptly ends, and I’m left feeling as if I’ve just gotten off a terrifying roller coaster.
I push myself up onto my knees and look around. Was that an earthquake? I once heard that the epicenter tends to feel like being trapped in a sonic boom, and this definitely has that qualification.
“Evie,” Hyde says from next to me, grabbing my arm.
I swivel my head to blink at him, trying to clear the daze from my vision.
Hyde shakes me a little. “Evie, listen to me. That wasn’t an earthquake.”
I snap to attention. “What?”
“That was some type of bomb,” he tells me, keeping his voice low. “I’m going to go check it out. Will you be all right?”
I nod, breathing hard. “Yes. Be careful.”
He gives me a nod and then jumps to his feet. I watch him for only a moment before I push myself to stand, immediately turning to help people who still lie dazed.
And as I kneel there, a vision rolls over me of the ceiling falling in, and instead of playing out like usual, this one seems to be in super fast forward. I jump up and start running past people in the center point to an area I’ve really not been before on the opposite side of where the entrance tunnel is located.
Past people crying and moving sluggishly, past the dazed and confused looks, until I see Shalana. The ground gives another little shake, nothing too bad, but enough to shake a large slab of concrete loose from the ceiling. I dive and catch Shalana around the waist, and we tumble back just as the hunk of rock crashes down at the spot where she had been standing.
When the rumbling sound fades, everything is silent except for my harsh breathing. I’m lying with my arm around Shalana’s waist, and my head cradled in between her breasts. I can honestly say I’ve never been in this position before. I push myself off her and stand, and that’s when I become aware of all the stares directed on me.
“How did you know?” Shalana whispers. Her eyes are wide and slightly unfocused as her gaze runs back and forth from me to the huge rock that almost crushed her.
“It’s my job to help people.”
Shalana just stares at me for a moment, and I hold her gaze until the cries of wounded start to intrude. I turn away and go to the people bruised and hurt from falling concrete and rock. Many of the makeshift homes have been flattened, destroyed. Some people have been buried under loose gravel, but luckily no one has been killed. There are many wounds, and I tirelessly tend to washing cuts and scrapes as men move the debris away. Shalana, recovered from her near miss, is nearby talking with many in hushed whispers. I try to ignore that.
And then there is a cry, a man’s agonized cry, and my heart stops. I turn and look, and I see Isabel in her father’s arms. I run to him and catch him just as he collapses to his knees. There is blood everywhere, on her head and her body, on her father. I try to be gentle as I reach for the pulse at her neck, hoping and praying, only this time my prayers go unanswered.
Little Isabel is dead.
I sit back on my heels and can only watch as people come to take Isabel’s father away. He still cradles his little girl in his arms, and all I can do is watch. I am numb. Why was I given a vision to save Shalana and not Isabel? Tears well up; they run down my cheeks. Wait. This is so wrong. I saved her. I had a vision to save her. What about now? Why did this happen?
Once before I had to watch a parent grieve over the loss of a child, and I swore that I wouldn’t let that happen again, yet here I am. I have this ability, this gift to help people, but the most innocent of us all now lies dead. I’ve strongly protested that I am not a superhero, but maybe I do hold a bit of a God complex. I know that I have a gift, a way, to help people. And I believe that my power came from some higher being, whether from God or the universe I can’t say, but I’ve always traded my power for something in return. I’ve never walked away from a situation empty-handed. But this time anger swells within me. I don’t understand, and for a moment I hate Him for that.
I have a sense that time is passing, but it’s impossible to tell night from day in this subterranean city. I rise up and walk among the survivors, not helping because I simply can’t bear another pitiful face. I know there are dead to be found, there are wounded to help, but I can’t. I just simply can’t.
I’m not sure how long Hyde has been gone, but suddenly he appears at my elbow. He takes one look into my face and leads me away from the destruction.
“Are you all right?” he asks in a low voice.
I shake my head.
“Come,” he says and takes my hand. He leads me past rubble, past people, past the silence that has descended over us.
“A bomb?” I ask, mainly for confirmation.
“Yes.”
“How long do we have to wait for the pickup?”
“About twenty-six hours. Going topside is too risky right now. This place is better fortified.”
“What if they bomb again?”
“Let’s hope their ordnance isn’t strong enough.”
“Have you told Shalana?”
“Not yet.” He glances around. His lips purse to one side as he thinks. “I’ve inspected all I know of this
little city, but she can tell me what I don’t know.”
I see Hyde gesture with a wave, and Shalana meets us halfway.
“That wasn’t a fucking earthquake!” She hisses, keeping her voice low.
“I know,” Hyde says immediately.
“They’re hunting you!”
“They’re hunting all of us, Shalana. And you’re out of time. You want to stay here and die? Kill them all?”
There’s a war in Shalana’s mind; I can see her emotions scattering all over the place. But finally she sighs. Her shoulders deflate somewhat. “I’ve had men checking all the passages, but we’re sealed in tight here.”
“No tunnels or shafts that are exposed to topside?”
“No,” she says. “This pocket we’re in was reinforced because of the building on top of it, so when the earthquake hit, everything around it collapsed.”
“Evie,” he says, “can you help them clean up as much as possible? I’m going to take Shalana and explore.”
I watch them leave. A headache forms at my temples, and I wish I could care, but my emotions are frozen. Exhaustion creeps up on me, so I disregard the favor Hyde asked, and I leave. I walk toward the small tent assigned to us, surprised to find it still standing, but very glad it is. I enter it and leave the world behind.
The bowl of water I used to clean Hyde is still there, mostly. A small amount of tepid water remains, enough to wash myself down with, so I quickly disrobe, letting my hair fall free in hopes of easing my headache, and use the washcloth to wipe the sweat off my body, as well as the remains of my time with Kris.
The water is cool against my skin. And suddenly the ice melts and I break down. Sobs rack my body, disabling my ability to stand. All I could see in my mind is Isabel’s face and how it looked in death. Everywhere around me is death. I hate it here. I hate this broken city.