by Jill Cooper
When Jameson sat down beside her, Jenna jumped. She slipped her shoes off her feet and stretched her toes. Glancing over at him briefly, Jenna tried to figure out what he wanted. He slipped his arm around her and she wondered how he could do it so easily. Life, in here for six months? Jenna had believed he loved her, and God help her, Jenna had believed she was happy; that life was good.
But it wasn’t good. It was a ticking time bomb.
“I hope you’re not hiding from me.” Jameson softly intertwined his fingers with hers.
“Of course not.” Jenna bristled, every nerve in her body telling her to pull away, slap him. “Just thinking, the girl at Tiny Bites Cupcakes said they didn't get the usual flour or sugar rations this week. Is everything all right at the grille?"
Jameson shrugged, but Jenna saw worry lines on his face. “Probably just a little short this week. I’m sure it’ll just mean next week, their cupcakes will be in even hotter demand.”
“I guess so.” But, Jenna wasn’t sure. She had been an officer a long time. She knew a bad feeling when it hit, and right now, it was hitting hard. Taking a deep breath, Jenna enjoyed the fresh air. Beside them, the sprinklers turned on thanks to their automatic timer. Across the street, their neighbor came out to roll his trash barrels to the curb.
The short man with the mustache raised his hand in greeting and Jameson returned it with a large smile on his face, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He must have been more of an ass than Jenna took him for, to be able to play his part so smoothly.
They sat in silence and Jenna snarled, unable to control herself. Jameson’s fingers grazed across her arm. Goosebumps rose up on her flesh and the more he did it, the harder it was for Jenna to control her temper.
A flash of lights appeared as the pizza delivery truck arrived, put Jenna at ease. Putting her shoes back on, she rose and said to Jameson off hand, “you pay for the pizza. I’ll get the drinks poured.”
He said something, but Jenna didn’t hear it. She was already inside, grabbing cups from the kitchen and pulling the pitcher of iced tea from the fridge. The window was open over the sink and the blue curtains billowed softly in the night’s breeze.
“It’s the strangest thing, Mr. Jameson,” the pizza delivery driver said with the voice of a sixteen-year-old boy, just on the rise to puberty—cracking and rising—. “People are saying their harnesses aren’t working. They aren’t lighting up. People are able to get upset again.”
Jenna nearly dropped the dishes when he said that. She rushed over to the sink and listened more intently, her heart pounding with fear.
Jameson, for his part, didn’t skip a beat. “Really? Well I’m sure whatever’s wrong; it’s just a snafu. It’ll be fixed soon and they’ll be back online. Have a nice night, kid.”
“You too, Mr. Jameson.” The sound of his car door creaked, and fear stilled Jenna’s heart.
Hadn’t she defeated the harness? Did that mean there was just a technical problem? If there was only a technical problem, that meant when it came back online . . .
Jenna poured herself a glass of iced tea and quickly drank it, holding onto the blue and white, swirled glass hard. Her eyes closed and Jenna took a deep breath. She had to get out of there. She had to move, before the harnesses were fixed and all of this became such a distant memory, that she’d forget.
Slipping off her shoes, Jenna crept down the hall. She gripped her purse strap over her shoulder and slipped into Jameson’s den. Closing the door with a gentle push, Jenna placed her palm over it to soften the sound. Turning, she surveyed the room and looked for a way out.
“Jenna? Pizza’s here!” Jameson’s voice shouted, but it was laced with something new—deceit.
He suspected her harness wasn’t working. Jenna hurried to the sliding glass door that overlooked the front yard. Afraid it’d be locked, she said a silent prayer, but it slipped open easily.
By the den door, the floorboards squeaked and Jenna knew if she stepped past the threshold into New Haven 57, out of the comforts of her home, there would be no turning back. She would either escape her suburban prison, or she would die trying.
Her baby might die trying, but it had to be better than this.
Jenna sprinted out into the night, but where she could go? How could she keep going, when all the eyes of the city were already on her?
****
She grabbed an old fedora stashed in a garbage can and a trench coat drying on a line. It was a cliché disguise and one that fit in perfectly with New Haven. A pair of dark shades completed her look, and at the cupcake shop across the street from the New Haven barracks, Jenna sipped a cup of coffee from a small table in the back.
Trying to keep to herself, she barely looked around. Instead, she stole a glance here and there out the window. Lights flashed and a police squad car drove by. Then another . . . and another.
They were out in force, looking for something—looking for her.
A powerful surge of pain gripped her from the inside. Jenna grunted and stroked her belly. The baby was getting close now. She had to make her move. It was nearly eleven pm. and with the police out looking for her, now was the perfect time to strike. Problem was, Jenna was scared. Her heart pounded, it raced, like when she drank too much caffeine.
She had never felt afraid like this. Jenna always knew what to do, how to respond. If there was trouble, she sprang into action and now all she wanted to do was hide.
Who are you, anymore? Do you even know?
Jenna didn’t know. She wasn’t Jenna Jameson, but she didn’t feel like Jenna Morgan—not yet. Maybe she wouldn’t ever. They stole her life and left her with the temperament of a mouse.
But she went through the motions. Jenna crumbled up her glistening ration money and left it on the table. Slow to rise, she gripped the back of her chair and started the long walk to the front door. Her hips ached, she moved slower than she should.
I can’t do this.
Jenna was so close to the front and her day of reckoning, that when the door opened and Jameson stepped inside, Jenna nearly froze. His head down low, Jenna didn’t think he made her yet, so she slipped down the hall toward the bathroom. Inside, she hid beside the door, swallowing hard, her heart galloping. Dizzy, her mind spun and her vision blurred. Her feet were unsure and she held onto the doorframe to keep upright.
Her lips parted and Jenna moaned, but her senses had come alive. Jenna heard footsteps; Jameson was close to her location. She grabbed her gun and stepped back.
The bathroom door pushed open and Jenna held her breath. A man’s foot stepped onto the tile and Jenna’s arm shot out. Squeezing Jameson by the neck, she pushed him into the wall. His complexion paled and he held his hands up.
“Don’t shoot,” Jameson wheezed out as she pushed even harder against his jugular.
Jenna’s jaws pressed tightly together. “You have any idea how bad I want to shoot you?”
Jameson started laughing, grinning wide like he found her funny. Jenna fumed, hating to be the butt of anyone’s joke.
You think I’d keep a loaded gun in the house alone with you?” Jameson smirked and while he could be lying, his words hit Jenna with truth.
But she couldn’t believe it; wouldn’t without proof, so she gritted her teeth and pulled the trigger.
Tick. Tick. Nothing.
Jenna shoved him back. “You really are a prick, you know that?”
“There’s a lot you don’t know; about what’s going on out there. You were already captured when things got bad, real bad.”
“So bad, that you think I’ll turn my baby over to you? To New Haven?” Jenna snorted and touched her belly, more protective than ever of what was growing inside of her.
“Yes.” The passion behind his words jarred Jenna. “The new havens, the humans, we’re almost all gone. Glistenings broke free and we’re on the run. The ones they capture, are food or working in encampment centers.”
“You’re lying.” Jenna sucked in her breath.
That couldn’t have happened. Others would have stopped it. The glistenings would never be allowed to escape.
“Am I? Did you think what you saw at the bakery was just an isolated incident? We’re cut off from food; water. This is the last of it and if we don’t get that cure done fast, when our daughter is born—.”
Jenna’s face twisted into a scowl. Had Jameson fallen so far down the rabbit hole into his lie that he forgot whom the baby really belonged to? “Dirk’s daughter, you son-of-a-bitch. He was your friend. He was—.”
“And now he’s probably dead.” Jameson’s words were harsh. “If he isn’t, he would have made it here by now.”
She wouldn’t believe his lies, but tears filled her eyes anyway. “Shut your stupid mouth.”
Jameson rushed on, despite her harsh words. “The United States is gone, Jenna. What was left of it is gone. If we don’t do this, we’re all dead. We’ll be nothing but glistening food.”
“I won’t turn over my baby.”
“Going to the barracks is your only chance of getting out of this alive.”
But Jenna was angry. Damn, was she ever angry and if she didn’t get her rage out soon, she might erupt. “We need to get out of here and we need to do it now.” As she said that, Jenna felt another one of her light contractions. She breathed through it, her eyes shut, trying not to draw attention to herself.
Jameson stepped forward and slid his hand on her forehead. “It’s coming soon, isn’t it? You’re not going to make it to your C-section in a few days.” His hand slipped away and dread spread across his face. “You’re feverish. All glistenings get a high fever before they give birth.”
Like she didn’t know that? She’d been through this before. Jenna pleaded with her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Like hell you are.” Jameson’s eyes narrowed into a glare.
Jenna whipped her head up and around to face him. “I’m fine as long as I say I’m fine, got it?”
Jameson snorted. “I already know you’re not fine. You got it? You think I’ve been taking you to the doctor every few days because you’re fine?”
His words rocked her confidence, but Jenna pretended it didn’t. It was damn hard. Her footing hadn’t yet stabilized. She’d been living a lie for six months and didn’t know which end was up.
Jameson put his hands on her shoulders and Jenna shivered with rage. His eyes pleaded for her attention. “All that matters is that baby and our survival. Nobody cared about what happened to you, least of all me.”
Jenna thought about the kiss the night before. All the kisses that made her skin want to peel off her bones, but they were different from Jameson. Even if he didn’t admit it, Jenna knew it was true. “Liar.” Her lip curled. “You fell for the act. You liked it.”
“Maybe.” Jameson’s face twitched into an uncomfortable smile. “I know none of it was real, but for a while . . . I guess it was nice.”
“I can’t trust anything you have to say.”
“Yeah?” Jameson said it like it was a dare. “Glistening pregnancies are rough. You know that, you barely survived your first. What makes you think this one has been a walk in the park? We’ve been trying to keep you calm, so you’ll survive long enough for us to take the baby out—that’s all.”
“Then what? You were just going to watch me die?” Jenna paused and watched the grief play out on his face. He couldn’t even keep eye contact with her.
“It was supposed to be easy,” Jameson admitted. “I was never supposed to . . .”
Love her? Jenna felt so sick; she thought she might vomit all over him. “So what’s wrong with me?” Jenna tried to keep the fear out of her voice. She wasn’t sure she was successful.
You’re . . . kidneys.” Jameson’s jaw tensed and he gazed at the floor, his previous attitude melting away. “They’re shutting down. The baby’s been a strain on you. The medicine isn’t helping anymore. If you had the baby a month ago, maybe, but they didn’t want to risk . . .”
“Risk the baby dying.” Jenna felt hollow inside. “So, I was expendable.” She took a deep breath. “We were friends once and now you do this to me?”
“After you had me arrested?” Jameson’s eyes bugged. “After you lied about being half-glistening—.”
Jenna shoved her hand into his throat and Jameson gagged. “Lying to me? Having sex with me like I’m some sort of toy?”
If her gun worked, Jenna would have killed him right then.
“It was good.” Jameson smiled, vile and twisted, rubbing his neck. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”
“You owe me.” Jenna grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into the wall. “You have to get us out of here. You have to promise you won’t let them experiment on the baby.”
“I can’t do that and you know it. There’s no way for us to get out. She could be the only thing that stops the glistenings, from wiping out what’s left of the humans.”
Jenna opened her mouth to talk, but bright lights shining outside the bathroom distracted her. She turned and saw the New Haven police squad had arrived. Angrily, she turned to Jameson with accusation flashing in her eyes. “You can get us out of this if you want to.”
Jameson laughed smugly. “You really aren’t the Jenna Morgan I once knew. Is she gone, or is she in there, somewhere?”
The door crashed open, but Jenna still had time to pull back her arm and level Jameson with one punch. He slammed backwards into the wall and fell to the floor, dropping the gun on his way.
Now she felt like Jenna. Now she felt like herself again. Jenna bent down to pick up the gun with a lot less grace than she normally did. Just as her fingers nicked the gun, someone shouted a warning. “Touch it and we’ll shoot you.”
Her, the baby incubator, which was having their savior any day now; Jenna didn’t think so. She picked up the gun, but before she was able to get a shot off, took one right in the arm. Crashing down onto her side, Jenna cursed the police as they charged into the restroom. All she could do was grit her teeth as they pulled her hands behind her back.
“To think she used to be one of us.” The officer laughed to the other.
“That was my first mistake.” Jenna spat at him.
“Lights out.” The officer said and something slipped beneath her skin.
“No.” Jenna’s lip trembled and her eyes became heavy-lidded. Would she remember whom she was when she woke up? She had to pray.
She had to try.
You are Jenna Morgan. You are Jenna Morgan. You are . . .
Chapter Seventeen Dirk
Small Abandoned Town
Just West of the Old American Midwest
With a groan, Dirk awoke. He gripped his side, eyes blinking open, and then he took a deep breath. The ribs pinched a nerve and, he smelled smoke—fire.
Rubbing the sore spot through his ripped shirt, he stared up at what appeared to be the inside of a tent. Rolling over seemed impossible right then as memories came flooding back of what happened. The dragon swarming around him, the freeing of Chase and Ginny, and the death of Rebecca—his one ticket to save Jenna.
Oh God, Jenna. Had his actions to go back for Rebecca doomed her and their child? Dirk was too horrified to even think about what would come next. If there was even a next to get to. Was it impossible to still hope and to dream? That was just asking too much.
But the soft voices outside his tent lured him. Whatever was going on, someone had saved him. That, or he was a prisoner. Either way, it was about time to find out. Getting up and to his knees was painful. Dirk grunted as he grabbed the wall and made his way out, into what appeared to be the center of town.
There was a fire coming from a small, stone pit and around it, the presence of warmth against the approaching winter air. There were rabbits on spigots roasting slowly over the fire. The mood was definitely not jolly as their faces illuminated with flame and their eyes rose to greet his.
Some were relieved; others tense.
Dirk recognized most of their fa
ces; he was with his people. Thank God for small favors. He stepped forward and it hurt more than it should. For a brief second, he closed his eyes and when he opened them again, his arm was braced.
Jake, his kind eyes peered at Dirk from behind his human face. It felt like weeks, since Dirk has seen him in human form. His face clean-shaven again, Jake stood taller, his shoulders broader, and a glint of something in his eye, Dirk hadn’t seen before.
Confidence—a posture that had never been his, almost like he had become a man, since the last Dirk had seen him. Filled out again, Jake must have fed well and that knowledge gave Dirk the chills. Jake’s arms were bigger, his chest puffed up, and his neck thicker, like he had been pumping iron at the gym for months. “Jake, you’re all right?”
“I was about to say the same to you, old friend.” Jake’s smile was filled with confidence. “Thank God, you’re awake.” His eyes were twinkling in a way Dirk had never seen them twinkle before.
Dirk swallowed back his second guesses; Lord knew, there wasn’t time for that. “What’s been happening since I’ve been out?” Dirk tried to study him without giving away that was what he was doing, but it was hard when just talking caused shooting pains.
Jake motioned his hand over toward the trees. He must’ve wanted to talk beyond the ears of the others, so Dirk followed, albeit slowly. When they were near the outer edge of camp, protected by the outline of trees shifting in the breeze, Jake turned to him; his hands shoved in his pockets. “I got to you just in time and was able to defeat a few more glistenings that stand with Victor. Chase got the kids away and they met up with our remaining crew.”
Good news, Dirk thought, but Jake’s face was dire and fallen. What was he getting to? “That sounds like good news.”
“Wish it was.” Jake sighed and rubbed his face. “We caught up with the others, but Victor’s men found the new camp and launched a full assault. They wanted the kids, the glistening kids, wanted them back. They almost got them, but Chase managed to get them out with my father. Everyone is safe, but . . .”
