by Jill Cooper
Someone sat beside her and Ginny knew it was Chase without even looking over. He put a woven cap on her head and pulled it down over her ears. It was a welcome respite, but Ginny didn’t want to take it from him. “What about you?” Her lips quivered and her teeth rattled, even when she tried to control it.
“I don’t need it.” Chase’s shoulders hunched together and he rubbed both his hands over Ginny’s. “Cold can’t bother me.”
“I can’t even feel my fingers,” Ginny admitted and she folded against him. His chest quivered from the cold. For all his posturing, he was just as cold as her, but his arms tightened around her.
Skin to skin contact would keep them both warm, right?
“Jake, the others, they’ll come for us. You’ll see,” Chase said, but without conviction behind his words. He didn’t believe them and God, Ginny couldn’t either.
Ginny did see, but not what Chase wanted her to. She saw they were truly alone. No one was coming, how would they even know where they were? The most Ginny could hope for was that Jake would strike Victor hard and end this for everyone else.
But this time, not for Ginny.
****
At nineteen-years old, Ginny didn’t deserve this. Hell, no one did, but as Chase watched Ginny drift off to sleep, his heart was in his throat, worried that she might never wake up. She might freeze to death in his arms and she’d be none the wiser. That wasn’t a fitting end for someone like her. He had no right to even love a girl like that, but Chase wanted more for her than this—a wedding dress, a home, laughter, and friends.
That’s what Ginny deserved; not that the crummy hand they were dealt was ever going to let her have it.
“Ginny,” Chase whispered and stroked her cold face. “You can’t go to sleep. C’mon, wake up.”
Ginny moaned and her lips trembled. “I . . . just want to sleep. Please, Chase.”
“Don’t please Chase me.” He huffed and blew out a strong breath of air. Struggling to his feet, Chase picked Ginny up in his arms. His legs were frozen and stumbled a few feet before guns were drawn on him from outside the fence.
“Don’t move!”
“Back down prisoner or we’ll kill you both!”
“She’s already dying!” Chase screamed. “I want to see the commander and Sally and I want to see them now. You tell Sally I’m ready to negotiate, okay? But if Ginny dies, all bets are off. Do you hear me? All bets are off!”
The spotlight from the commander’s outpost turned on. Chase squinted his eyes and couldn’t see a damn thing, but he heard the flapping of wings. The guns never fired at him so that had to be a good thing.
****
Inside, there was warmth, the smell of hot coca, and the flicker of a fresh fire. There was heat by way of a roaring fire and actual electricity. The sofas were beige, clean, and Ginny sat up, wrapped in a blanket from head to toe. She opened her eyes slowly as Chase handed her a white mug, which held a warm, steamy beverage.
Thank God, she was all right. Chase didn’t know what’d he do if he lost her, but it was wrong to be here while so many outside still suffered. Chase knew that, but he’d do anything to keep them alive awhile longer, even if it meant making a deal with the devil.
Sally—the devil, stood behind him. Dressed in jeans, a long jacket, and warm boots, Ginny glared at her. “You can’t do it, Chase. Whatever it is she wants, you just can’t do it.”
Chase bent in front of Ginny and put the mug in her hand after she refused it. He wrapped his hand around her smaller one, conforming her fingers to the porcelain cup. “Let’s not talk about me, all right? What I’m the most concerned about, is you.”
Ginny’s eyes raged with fire. “We can’t lose ourselves now, Chase. After everything, we can’t back down on our principals, not now.”
“If I don’t, you’ll die.”
“Then let me,” Ginny hissed. “Don’t give in to her,” Ginny snarled toward Sally. “She’s the enemy . . . just let me go. If I die, maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.”
Chase didn’t believe that; couldn’t believe that. What was living worth, if good people like Ginny had to be sacrificed, just so monsters could continue to breathe? Her eyes were so certain, so defiant, Chase couldn’t hold her gaze any longer. He glanced down and in doing so, admitted defeat to the glistenings—and everything he had stood for.
“Don’t you do anything for them in my name,” Ginny warned him. “If you agree to go to work in the ‘factory’ to protect me . . .”
Chase looked up and saw the angst in her eyes. She meant what she was about to say, but Chase begged her with his heart not to say it.
“Then we’re through. Don’t talk to me. Don’t come over to me. We’ll be done, Chase.” Ginny placed the mug on the coffee table and refused to touch it, refused to drink it.
Chase never knew she could be so strong, but it turned out, despite all his muscles and skills in the ring, Chase was a coward.
“Are you two done?” Sally asked with her arms crossed. “You’re little lovers spat is so cute, but we do have business to discuss.” Sally motioned toward the office.
Chase rose and couldn’t look at Ginny again. He only nodded and followed Sally inside. It was sparsely furnished, containing a few bookcases and a large, oak desk.
“Here’s the deal,” Sally said with a cluck of her tongue. “She will stay here where she’s warm, has food, or whatever she wants, but you’ll work the slaughterhouse. And at night,” Sally coyly tugged on the collar of Chase’s jacket, “you come home with me. Those are my terms.”
It disgusted him. Chase’s stomach rolled. He turned his head.
Sally turned it back with a flick of her pointed, manicured finger. “Do we have a deal? If not, I’ll send her right back outside.”
“Yeah.” Chase’s breath quivered. This would slam the door on a future with Ginny forever, but for all he knew, there was no future. For all he knew, the glistenings would always remain in control. “We have a deal.”
“I’d say pack your things, but since you don’t have anything, come upstairs with me.” Sally hooked her finger into his jeans and pulled him back out the door.
Ginny glowered at Chase. He wanted to talk with her. Convince her it would be okay, but she glanced away and in that last moment, Chase knew he had lost her.
It didn’t matter though. Chase had won a respite for Ginny, but how long it would last? That was anyone’s guess.
Chapter Nineteen Liz
Her view was the old rose garden behind the White House, a place so regal and grand, it felt like a museum. Outside, the flowers were withered and iced over brittle and pale. Snow hid the bloodstains on the grass of those that lost their lives defending the compound. Every time Liz stared out, she was sorry. Her heart ached no less today, even as she stood in a white wedding dress, as if to hide her sins—her duplicity.
It couldn’t hide what she had done with Victor.
The dress was beautiful and was supposed to be some historical gown, once worn by a First Lady from the days of yore. Yards of white satin, a few hundred white pearls lined against the bottom, and the breast line was the finest tapestry of lace Liz had ever seen. It sure put all those tablecloths in Saskatchewan to shame.
She glanced down at the diamond sparkling on her finger. Liz didn’t know where she got it, but it weighed on her. Clenching her hand tight, she teetered as someone yanked on her dress.
“Sorry.” It was the seamstress, Noel, with a mouth full of pins. Her hair had been spiraled up in a blue bandana and had dark circles under her eyes like she wasn’t getting enough sleep. “Please try to hold still, Miss.”
Liz took a deep breath and nodded her acquiescence. She smoothed the fabric down her flat belly and wondered if something was already taking shape in there that she couldn’t see, couldn’t feel. “Are you sure no one has seen Meghan?”
“I’m sorry,” Noel yanked on the fabric across her waist hard, “but no. I’m sure she’s just running around for V
ictor, just as she usually is.”
“She was supposed to be here.” Liz tried not to sound so worried or upset, but from how Noel smiled up at her from the floor, it was clearly evident.
“I’ll look for her once we’re done here; just a few more pins.”
Liz gazed in the mirror. “Don’t you think it looks a little tight or a little too far cinched?”
“It’s what Victor wants, Miss. Do you want to try on the veil to see what it looks like?”
“No, I’m sure it’s fine.” Liz glanced down at the young glistening with a head full of brown curls. “You do a fine job, but you always do, Noel. Do you like being a seamstress?”
Noel shrugged. “My mother did it and her mother before that, so it comes easy to me.”
“Does it matter to you,” Liz asked with raised eyebrows, “that I think the dress is too tight? Why is Victor’s word more important than mine when I’m the one in the dress?”
Noel’s eyebrows knitted together. “Well, that’s not what I meant. Of course, your opinion is important.”
“Is it?” Liz’s cheeks flushed. “It doesn’t feel very important. We cook, we clean, we serve them, but when do they ask our opinion? When is our council important?”
Noel stared up at her and Liz wasn’t sure if she had lost her completely. If she did, Liz feared it would be her life. “They? Them?”
“Men.” Liz spat the word out slow, allowing her words to sink in. “In New Haven, your mother and grandmother did everything for them. Now we’re out here. You’re supposed to be free, Noel. Do you feel free or have you just traded one prison for another?”
“Miss,” Noel whispered, “I don’t think Victor would like what you’re saying very much. I think it could cost you dearly.”
“It’s just us.” Liz smiled. “Chit-chat between two ladies. Unless of course, you plan on running to him with what I’ve said?”
Noel cleared her throat and looked away. “I’ll let the dress out a few. I’ll tell him that’s the best I could do.”
With relief, Liz gazed off into the mirror again with a slight smile. “We have to take care of each other, Noel. If for no other reason than if we don’t, no one else will.”
The young lady didn’t say anything as she worked, but when she was done, Liz helped her rise to her feet and Noel squeezed her hand in return. “You’ve given me a lot to think about. Now, I’ll help you out of this dress so I can get to work. I have a lot to do before the wedding tomorrow.”
The wedding. Liz’s stomach sank. She had forgotten why she was there, what she was wearing. She hoped—prayed—that by tomorrow there wouldn’t be a groom left to marry at all.
The signal. Liz needed that signal now more than ever.
****
The glistening guards escorted her back to the private quarters where Liz spent the majority of her time when she wasn’t on chore duty. She entered through the door and called out, “Travis? Meghan!”
Rounding into the living room, Liz could see the area was in disarray from the small boy’s toys and he was there, in the arms of his other nanny, Jacqueline. But with Liz back, the boy was irate—lifting his arms up to Liz and calling out for her.
Liz swooped him up in her arms and hugged him tight. There was such a great relief from the pain and stress when she hugged him. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t hers. All that mattered, was that he was innocent and needed caring for. Victor had his blackened hands all over the child, already trying to turn him, even though he wasn’t even two yet.
Jacqueline stood and smoothed out her dress. “Meghan isn’t here. She hasn’t come since last night.”
“Then we have a problem.” It was hard to admit and even harder to say, “A big problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Jacqueline’s eyebrows furrowed and she tilted her head to inspect Liz.
“One named Victor.” Her chest rose as she inhaled deep and counted her blessings that she could trust Jacqueline. “I have much to tell you and you can’t breathe a word of it to another soul. Promise me.”
Jacqueline nodded slowly after a moment of reflection. “You’re scaring me, Liz.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s time you knew. Time you heard the truth about why the world is burning. And what we’re going to do about it.”
When she was done, Jacqueline sat on the sofa in a fit of sobs. “I can’t believe it. I knew Victor was . . . he scared me, but if everything you say is true . . .”
Liz sat beside her and grabbed her hand. “You can tell me. What’s on your mind?”
“The glistenings have left for New Haven 57.” Jacqueline swallowed hard. “I heard my father discussing it with my husband. They said it’s an offensive attack.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “They were afraid they might not come back.”
“And now,” Jacqueline sobbed. “I’m afraid maybe they shouldn’t. I think maybe they chose the wrong side.” She covered her face and cried.
Liz needed to be her strength, her rock. She covered Jacqueline’s shoulders with her arms and hugged her close. “We stick together. We take care of our own, no matter what. We make sure the women are safe; taken care of.”
Jacqueline glanced up at her with tear stricken eyes. “Liz?”
“You were never asked if you wanted to be part of this war. It’s time for all of us to take a stand. Protect the women, children, and any of those that would oppose Victor.”
“I’m afraid for you Liz.” Jacqueline’s lip quivered, “You’re so nice, so fair. I’m terrified for you.”
Truth was, Liz was terrified too. But it was too late to turn back now, too late to stray from the path. Too many were counting on her and Liz wasn’t about to let them down.
****
With a jar of fresh blood in his hand, Victor descended the stairs of the East Wing to a locked door. White and unguarded, he twisted the knob and entered the darkened room. Only light from a small back window shone barely enough light to illuminate the chains hanging from the ceiling.
In the cuffs were small wrists and frail arms suspended in mid-air. His prisoner’s body was slumped to the ground on her knees. Her head rounded down to her shoulders and her red hair matted and covered her face.
Victor stunned her awake by kicking her. “Wake up!”
Meghan groaned and her head stirred. She gazed up at him with one black eye squeezed shut, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, her head slumped forward again, losing consciousness.
But Victor didn’t think so. She was hiding, avoiding his questions and his prosecution. “I said wake up!” He gripped her face tight with his fingers and forced her lips together.
She thrashed her head back and tugged her arms to get away from him, but she still wouldn’t speak. Still, Meghan, once the most talkative glistening Victor had ever met, was silent.
“Do I need to cut your tongue out to motivate you?” His eyes narrowed, trying to intimidate her.
Her jaw moved like she might say something and her eyes darkened with fear. “It makes no difference what you do to me.”
Ah, so she could talk.
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” Meghan gazed down at the floor.
“Liar,” Victor whispered and slapped her across the face. He grabbed her torso and forced her up to her feet. “You’ve always been outspoken and now you’re working against me. Who is siding with you? Who here is planning the revolt?”
“You’re paranoid. There is no revolt. I know nothing.”
He scowled, the anger coming out in a tremble of his chin. Meghan turned her face toward the chains as he drove his elbow into her jaw. Throwing her back down to the ground, Meghan groaned as her knees collided with the brick floor.
“I’m not mad.” Victor cast an accusing finger at her and couldn’t deny the burning rage filling his chest. “I know what I see and what I feel. Something is amiss here and you’ll tell me what it is!”
“I’m with you, Victor. You’re our leader.”
“Then why resist
? Why not answer my questions?”
Meghan shook her head, leaning it against the chains that held her arms. “Because, you won’t believe a thing I say. So why does it matter what I do? What I say?”
Victor spun the top off the glass jar in his hand and Meghan watched quietly. “You are glistening, is that what you are always saying?” Victor asked.
“I am.” Meghan’s voice was weak, her good eye only on the glass jar as Victor put it under her nose.
“Then drink.” Victor’s words were simple, but his teeth gritted together and his eyebrows rose. “Drink. Since the factory opened, I haven’t seen you touch the stuff. If you are glistening like you say you are, it won’t be a problem.”
“Then what? You’ll apologize and let me go?”
Victor nodded slightly. “Yes, with my deepest apologies. But if you refuse to drink,” Victor bent over, leaning close to her face. “Then I will know you’re a gutless human who is afraid of the monster that rages inside of her. That New Haven snuffed out any chance for you and to me, you’re worthless.”
Meghan broke off her gaze and her arms trembled.
“Worthless as a domesticated cat.” Victor stood up straight and made a guttural noise with his tongue. “You’re still loyal to Jake. After all this time, when he proved he was weak . . .”
“He’s not weak.” Meghan’s eyes contracted with anger and her lips tightened into a thin line. “He’s strong for resisting his base instincts. He’s strong for having the discipline that he has, for standing against you and organizing those that’ll oppose you.”
Victor laughed and shook his head in pity for the silly, pathetic woman. “He’ll lose, just like he’s been losing every day for months. Worthless child from a pair of worthless glistenings that deny who they are. The Earth is ours to inherit.”
“Ours to share,” Meghan corrected. “And one day, he will cut you down. I have my faith. What do you have? A bunch of blood lust crazed glistenings who do what you say. Power is all you want. It has nothing to do with me, nothing to do with any of us. You want revenge against the humans.”
