Being Emerald

by Sylvia Ryan

  “Did you know the day before you left on your mission there was an intruder in the building that holds our offices?”

  Her thoughts shot to that day. The babies. He’d hit her right between the eyes with a curveball. This was not about the Resistance, or Rock, or why Black Guard Sydney Parr didn’t return from the mission.

  He nodded as her understanding of why she was there took hold.

  “We caught the man, so I wasn’t terribly worried about the breach. But the next afternoon, when I reviewed the video, do you know what I saw?”

  Laila hung her head, not responding to his question.

  Morgan sprang, grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head up with it. “I saw the man running away, the posted guardsmen pursuing him, and then a minute later, you, tip-toeing into a restricted area, sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  Laila blinked a few times in rapid succession while her brain quickly caught up. “Yes. I thought I heard babies crying when I was in the ladies room. Naturally, I tried to find where it was coming from. I wasn’t trying to…” Her voice quavered. “I mean…” She took a deep, calming breath and started again. “When I left my office, I merely needed to use the rest room. I wasn’t intentionally trying to”—she lowered her voice to a whisper—“spy.”

  The murderous feeling emanating from the General hit her in the face like a blast from a furnace. Yet, his expression was impassive, polite even. He picked up the syringe off the table and stood. “This is to assure me you’re telling the truth.” He leaned in closer, placed his lips close to her ear. “I’ve gotten quite good at this, but I still need you to hold still.” He stuck her with the needle and plunged the liquid into her vein.

  Seconds later, warmth crept through her chest, up the sides of her neck and heated her cheeks. She took in a long, slow breath. Each muscle became lax simultaneously. Her jaw unhinged slightly as her shoulders drooped. Her next intake of air was even longer, slower than the one before.

  “Let’s play a little game, Laila. What do you say?”

  She blinked, lazily. “Okay.”

  “I’m going to ask you a few questions. If you give me the right answers, I’ll let you live. If you give me the wrong answers, I’ll take pleasure in shooting you myself.”

  He sat back in his chair, studying her for what seemed like several minutes before he spoke again. “How do you feel?”

  She felt heavy. Her tongue was thick. The noticeably sluggish mechanics of her body mesmerized her. In sharp contrast, her heartbeat thumped boldly. Her hot, drug-laced blood screamed as it jetted through her veins and random thoughts pummeled her normally ordered mind.

  “Do you like children, Miss Lewis?”

  Sitting across from him like this, she had a difficult time keeping from staring at the results of the hideous wound Jordan had given him months earlier. Laila swallowed through her dry throat. “Yes.”

  He beamed at her with his brilliant eyes and disfigured face. “They’re perfect, these children, beautiful, intelligent, all diamonds. Every one.”

  She shook her head, confused. “Whose babies are they?”

  “They’re mine.”

  “All of them?”

  He smiled. “There’s no law against fertilizing the eggs harvested from our Diamond women. I’m doing exactly what the egg harvests were meant for, increasing the number of genetically superior children in our population. Right now, we’re outnumbered. There are twice as many Ambers as the total population of the rest of the Zones combined.

  “But my children, they’re Diamonds. The oldest of them are already five years old. A mere decade is all it will take for us to outnumber them. We already outthink them, but we need numbers, too.” He sat back into his chair, smiling brightly at her. “They’re all my biological children and under my complete control from the day they’re born. My sons and daughters will lead this country into the future.”

  The full meaning of his revelation took hold. “Who carries these babies?”

  He smiled, a sickening smirk. “It’s ironic really, because that aspect has gotten significantly easier since the Amber uprising and the standoff at the border. Now, since the women designated Amber can no longer cross the border and live in Circle City, like they’re supposed to, they have the choice of being put out of the city, or joining my Birthing Corps.” He waved his hand thoughtlessly. “But we can talk about my vision for this country’s future anytime. It’s not what I want to discuss with you today.” Morgan’s expression turned ice cold as he leaned toward her and caught her gaze. “So tell me, Miss Lewis, are you in the Resistance?”

  Laila shook her head and then silently congratulated herself. That deception was easy. She smiled at him, and then quickly tried to reverse that expression because a tiny voice deep in the recesses of her brain shouted that smiling was a bad idea.

  Morgan’s laser-like gaze drilled her. “Tell me exactly what happened to Sydney Parr.”

  “I reported the truth the first time.” She paused and attempted to moisten her lips with her thick, dry tongue. “Her truck was attacked. I presume she was killed.” She took another long, slow breath in the utterly silent room when a stray thought flitted through her head. Her lips caught the words and spit them out. “I don’t see what’s so hard about this, why all those Resistance women gave up their friends.”

  “You’re right, dear. We’re just having a conversation.”

  She smiled at him, feeling like the victor in this game of cat and mouse.

  “You know, Sydney didn’t like you very much.”

  “I didn’t like her either.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Really? Why not?”

  “Because she wanted to be with Rock and considered my existence in his life a barrier to getting what she wanted.”

  The General faltered, closing his mouth on the words he’d been poised to say. He seemed genuinely surprised to hear her say that.

  “What, you thought your bend over the desk routine was enough for her?”

  His ice blue eyes narrowed on her. The scar looked absolutely wicked as he scowled. “What did you just say?”

  Laila’s feeling of victory over Morgan and his syringe dissipated when she repeated the words in her head. “I’m sorry, that was disrespectful,” she blurted out. Then in an attempt to divert his attention to a new topic, she babbled, “Let’s not talk about her. There are so many more important things to talk about other than Sydney Parr’s whore…” She paused mid-word, wondering what she was trying to say. “Whore…ness.” Looking down at her lap, she noticed the quick flutter of the blouse she wore due to her heart’s tremendous thumping underneath. She could not meet his gaze, knowing now she was not the cat. She was the mouse, and she was being herded into a very tight corner.

  “Laila, look at me.”

  She heard his words, but it took her several seconds to process them.

  “Now!” he bellowed.

  She flinched and lifted her gaze to meet his.

  He stared at her for a pregnant moment. “Was Sydney having sex with Rock?”

  “No.”

  “Were you having sex with Rock?”

  Giddy feelings teemed within her. Not able to help herself, a wide grin spread across her face. “No.”

  “You’re smiling.”

  “He loves me.”

  Morgan frowned. “You said loves instead of loved. Is Rock still alive?”

  Of their own accord, her guilty eyes darted away from the man sitting across from her. Then she realized without even answering his question, she’d blown it. “Did I say that?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  She simply was not a good enough liar for this. “I meant loved.”

  “He left you here, didn’t he, Laila?”

  She didn’t answer, choosing to cower from him instead.

  “What a pathetic coward he was to leave New Atlanta without you.”

  “It’s not like tha
t.”

  “Of course it’s like that. Where is he now, when you need him?”

  Laila shook her head and ran her sweaty palms on the tops of her thighs.

  “Can’t you see he made a laughingstock out of you?” He laughed at her and then leaned across the table so his face was the only thing she saw. “Oh, I’m sure he gave you some kind of line, like he’ll be back for you someday.”

  Laila felt flustered and humiliation began to heat her face. “He loved me. I meant to say he loved me.”

  Morgan sat back in his chair and the corner of his lip curled. He looked every bit the monster he was.

  She was scared now.

  “So how long until he comes back for you?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t say.” Had she? She started to search her hazy memory and then realized he was talking to her again. “I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?”

  “Oh, come on, Miss Lewis, pay attention.”

  He was confusing her to the point she wasn’t even sure if she’d even given up any secrets.

  “Did he tell you about Emily?”

  She took a deep breath. Something she could talk about. “Yeah. He told me.”

  “Does it bother you to have to look at another woman’s name while he’s fucking you?”

  Laila tried to keep a calm demeanor but Morgan’s aggressive emotions fed her rising anger. She slammed her hands on the top of the table. “Stop!”

  “I’m sorry. That was a bit crass of me. Where have my manners gone?” He signaled to the guardsman at the door. “Please get Miss Lewis a cup of tea.”

  He turned to her and sat back, relaxed in his chair. “Now where were we? Oh, yes. So, Sydney told you about me fucking her over the desk?”

  Laila nodded. “Yes.”

  “I find that hard to believe since she didn’t like you.”

  “Uh…”

  “So that makes me wonder who told you I bent Sydney over the desk.”

  She frantically raced to come up with a reasonable answer to his question.

  Tapping an index finger on his bottom lip, he studied her from across the table.

  The door opened and the guardsman walked back in with a cup in his hand, she did a double take. He’d just left a few seconds ago. Hadn’t he? She looked at him, at Morgan and then down at the steaming cup of tea set before her with a packet of sugar on the saucer next to a spoon.

  “What’s wrong, Miss Lewis?”

  “Nothing,” she whispered. Her hand shook as she ripped the sugar packet open and poured the crystals into the fragrant tea. She took a deep cleansing breath in an attempt to get a grip as she stirred the liquid.

  “Sydney didn’t talk to you about us. How did you know?”

  Laila ground her teeth, resigned to the fact she had to stay silent or she’d end up hanging herself.

  “Are you spying on me?” The General motioned again for the guardsman at the door. “Take a team and scour my office. Look at every surface for a listening device,” Morgan said, studying her speculatively.

  Laila tried as hard as she could to look as if she didn’t care.

  When the guard closed the door behind him, Morgan said, “Tell me about your family. Where were they from pre-pandemic?

  “Florida. Tampa, Florida.”

  “And what nationality is the name Lewis?”

  “Welsh.”

  “Oh, really?” His expression was skeptical. “Do you have any Irish blood in you?”

  “No.” Her voice quavered.

  “While you lived in the Sapphire Zone, did you ever attend a meeting of the Irish Heritage Club?”

  “No,” she lied.

  He sucked in a shocked gasp then glowered at her. “You’re not a very good liar, Miss Lewis.” His expression turned lethal with cold, dead eyes and a sneer where his scar bit into his top lip. He leaned over the table and stared hard. “It’s funny, sometimes when I go fishing and think I’ll come up empty, I land a whale. What are the odds?” It seemed as if he was talking more to himself than her. “You work for the Resistance.”

  “No.”

  She said the word a little too quickly and the conspicuous tone of panic indicated she was no longer doing as well in her deception as she’d hoped. Suddenly, she wasn’t feeling well. Her stomach squeezed bile up her esophagus. Her tongue was a brick as she tried desperately to swallow a sip of tea. Her heartbeat thudded loudly. Too loudly. She was a moment away from full-blown panic. His lips were moving. Was he talking to her? “What?”

  He flashed an evil leer. Aimed it right at her. “You were telling me who else you know working for the Resistance.” He waved a hand. “Other than Rock, who we’ve already discussed, of course.” He paused, looking so pleasant. “Was there someone else?”

  “I don’t think…” She focused hard, trying to remember the last few minutes. She couldn’t remember telling him about Rock.

  “Miss Lewis.”

  She came out of her thoughts abruptly and turned her attention to Morgan.

  “You were telling me about Sydney working for the Resistance.”

  Finally sure of something, Laila snorted. “You’re trying to trick me, General. I caught you red handed.”

  He smiled, crossed one leg over the other and settled his hands neatly on his thigh. “So you did.”

  She desperately wanted to scream and scratch that man’s eyes out. She was better than this. Stronger.

  The door to the room opened and a guardsman entered. He handed Morgan the bug she’d planted so many months ago. She closed her eyes and made her best attempt to focus inward for a few moments. What would Rock want her to do here?

  Kill him. She smiled to herself at hearing the deep rumble of Rock’s voice in her head. Killing him was not an option at the moment. But the simple solution to this no-win conversation came to her a second later. It was a simple skill she’d mastered during her training. Silence. She could do silent. She would do silent. Laila met Morgan’s gaze but this time she was the one who smiled.

  Proudly, she didn’t utter a single syllable for the hours that followed. During that time, Morgan ran the gamut from civil to violent, but she had learned how to be silent during intense and emotional stimulus. This was a different situation, but the skill was the same.

  She’d not even been paying attention to the General when another needle punctured her skin. Soon after, the world was a blur of disjointed snippets of time.

  She sat on the toilet in a bathroom she’d never seen before. A woman in scrubs was in there with her. The woman’s face swam in her vision, her lips moved.

  “Sorry…baby…” The words melted before her brain could remember most of them.

  She drifted alone until she saw the woman again. “This will help,” she said.

  A pinch in the crook of her arm.

  Feeling so good. Her head lolled. It was too heavy.

  The world transformed. A surreal, hazy feeling threaded through her consciousness. She was flying.

  Bright lights overhead. She couldn’t move her legs.

  “Okay,” she heard herself saying in response to nothing in particular. The woman undressed her and dressed her in something open in the back.

  Then bed.

  “Not jail?” she asked the room.

  A woman’s voice. “Remember, you’re going to be okay.”

  Then she was alone.

  Chapter 26

  Rock waited ten days. He had no fucking idea why his father never showed at the drop house, but he didn’t worry. Rock Sr. could take care of himself and probably stayed to make sure Laila was okay.

  Or maybe he’d postponed until he could bring Laila’s mother with him. It hadn’t been hard to see his dad had feelings for Lila Lewis.

  No. He wouldn’t worry.

  The three hundred miles from the drop house to his new home had taken two days and was blissfully uneventful, with the exception of a few places where the road was block
ed by the takeover of plant life. Once he got off the main thoroughfare, it was slower going. Rock spray-painted fluorescent orange arrows indicating his turns as he wove through the maze of smaller roads leading to his destination.

  His parents lived in Charlotte, NC, prior to the pandemic. His father had told him stories of their honeymoon on the North Carolina coast. It was he who mentioned in one of their many conversations that living by the ocean might be easier post-pandemic due to it being a good food source.

  When Rock finally arrived at the coast, he left his truck behind to explore the area. His first look at the wide beach and immense body of water captivated him.

  He walked to the waterline and surveyed the gigantic houses that stood like sentinels left from a different civilization, their bridges leading from their back doors to the beach jutting like huge tongues. He inhaled lungsful of fresh sea air. His dad had been right. This would be the perfect place to start a family.

  He searched for homes with their walkways still intact. Some structures were barely standing, weather battered and uninhabitable. Others had held up much better, zipped up tight with hurricane shutters and decks that appeared to be wood but on closer inspection were some kind of plastic.

  He circled three homes that appeared as if they were still in pretty good shape.

  Finally, he approached the one that looked to be the best choice. It was an enormous blue-gray home reminding him of old driftwood. It had a circular lookout at the very top, giving a three hundred sixty degree view.

  The home was protected with metal shutters covering all the windows. Getting inside would prove to be a challenge. Rock returned to his vehicle and drove to the home he’d chosen. Having unpacked his tool chest and a large battery he’d brought with him, he circled around to the back deck.

  As predicted, the house was a bitch to break into and ultimately, he had to do some damage to open the first shutter. Once he’d peeled enough of it back to slip inside, he turned on his flashlight and searched the house, looking for corpses or indications the home was damaged. He found neither. It was absolutely perfect.

  Using his battery and converter, he tapped into the shutters’ wiring and once the power was connected, the metal rolled up, replacing the darkness with brilliant light and an amazing view of the ocean.