Sentinel

by Emerald Dodge

  “That sounds like Benjamin,” I muttered. I picked up several logs; Marco and Reid retrieved the rest. “Marco, are you coming?”

  “Yeah. Believe me, I’m going to be there when they kill the people who have my sister.”

  “Then let’s go. Reid, what’s Ember going to do today?”

  “Work with Christiana about getting past the telepathic block, I think.”

  I put the ax back in the corner behind the water heater. As we trooped through the living room, Ember’s furious eyes followed Reid. He didn’t say anything.

  I’d just shut the front door when a distant man’s shout caught my attention. A second later, the unmistakable crashing of brush followed.

  Damn it. Save someone or help Dean?

  As if there was ever any question.

  “Go ahead,” I said quickly. “I’ll catch up.”

  I sprinted into the woods, rushing past the infirmary.

  “Jillian!”

  I stopped, steeled myself, then turned around. “Yes?”

  Benjamin was on the back porch of the infirmary, eating a roll covered in jam. “What’s the hurry?”

  “I heard something in the forest. Someone’s probably hurt.”

  Benjamin wolfed down the rest of his breakfast and dusted off his hands. “Sounds like a job for a medic.”

  Oh boy. But he was right.

  A heavy silence hung between us as we slogged through the snow. Fortunately, the uneven, snow-covered terrain demanded our full attention, and we were more concentrated on not breaking our ankles than talking about the night before.

  After ten minutes, we were well out of eyeshot and earshot of Liberty. I turned around, my permanent, dull irritation melting away as I took in our surroundings: trees, snow, more trees, bushes, and trees. Who would come out here?

  “Hello?” I called. “Does someone need help?”

  Benjamin cupped his hands around his mouth. “Make some noise!”

  A whisper of noise, vaguely feminine in nature, made me hold up my hand to Benjamin. “Stop shouting.”

  No… not feminine. Twittery and pleasant, but animal. A bird was chirping loudly in the distance. Perhaps the man had disturbed it? I beckoned for Benjamin to follow me down a steep incline, toward the sound.

  A low, male groan came from beneath a mess of logs and snow, and a familiar scent met my nose.

  “Graham!” I rushed over to the splintery, icy pile.

  Before he could answer, I hoisted the log off of Graham. Cuts and scrapes, and one large gash, lined his face, and he couldn’t focus his eyes. “Wha…wha happened, Amy?”

  “Sorry, Graham,” I murmured, smiling as gently as I could. “There’s nobody named Amy here.” I helped him sit up while Benjamin touched his face. The injuries faded, and Graham’s eyes slowly unglazed.

  Benjamin kneeled down casually. “What were you doing out here, so far from Liberty?”

  He groaned and shook his head. “Security sweep. I’ve always gotten on Dean’s case about not having any real protection around this place. I’m kind of hung up on it, I know, but we’re so—”

  “—unprotected,” I finished for him, nodding. “Yeah, I spoke to him last night about it, too. We should start a club.” I helped him to his feet. “Who’s Amy, by the way?”

  He paused, his face betraying perfectly equal amounts of hurt and shock. “How do you know that name?”

  “You called Jillian ‘Amy,’” Benjamin said. “Who is that?”

  Graham visibly fought tears. “Amy is my little sister. She’s still with the Westerners.” He cleared his throat. “She looks a little like you.”

  Benjamin and I exchanged a sad glance, then helped him out of the gorge. Above us, a pretty little songbird sang a simple tune. Graham scowled at it. “Don’t tell anyone, but I wasn’t paying attention where I was walking because I was having a Daniel Boone moment and trying out my bird calls.”

  Benjamin and I laughed until Graham barked at us to shut up.

  At the infirmary, Graham hurried ahead of us to the main building. I was about to follow him when Benjamin caught my sleeve. “Hey.”

  I tried to keep my face expressionless. “What?”

  “Did Marco apologize to you?”

  “Yes.”

  The heavy, awkward silence from before descended on us. Finally, Benjamin said, “Well, good. What are you doing now?”

  “I’m going to speak to Dean about how we’re going to rescue Isabel, and don’t you dare sniff at me for it, or I’ll tell Marco that you objected—”

  “No. I’m not going to stop you from saving Isabel,” Benjamin said, surprised. “Why would I—”

  “Because you’ve been arguing with me about every other thing I do, so why not this?”

  Pain flitted across his face and he stepped closer, his lovely, spicy scent riffling my nose. “I don’t know what you think you know about me, but I want Isabel safe. I want them all safe. I want you safe.” His voice was rich with emotion. “I’m still your Benjamin.”

  “Jill! Hurry up!” Marco called from across the street. “We’re waiting for you!”

  Benjamin and I stood in the snow for a second more, and then I turned and stalked away.

  My Benjamin—the term didn’t have as much cache now, since I had no idea who Benjamin really was.

  Dean, Graham, and Ken were sitting around a table and studying a terrain map of Wyoming when we entered the main building, which I’d deduced was the tactical center of the Sentinels. Next to the map was a small 3D model of a walled compound.

  Dean looked up and grinned when he saw me. “Hey, it’s my new SIC. You two are Marco and Reid, right?”

  “I think we got off to a bad start yesterday,” Reid said, extending his hand. “Let’s start again. I’m Reid Fischer, from the Coeur d’Alene camp in Idaho. I’d like to offer my assistance to your cause.”

  “I want to rescue my sister,” Marco said flatly. “When are we raiding the camp that has her?”

  “Soon, I promise.” Dean beckoned us to join him around the map. “We’re planning a raid now on a sorting station in the northwest part of Wyoming, near where we found you guys. We found the doc at a third one near the Montana border.”

  “What do you need us to do?” I asked.

  “We’ve been discussing your role in the raids. Most of the Sentinels have superpowers, but none of us are trained to your level when it comes to close quarters combat. On the other hand, you don’t have any firearms training, do you?”

  “No,” I admitted. “We worked with tranquilizer guns recently, but I’ve never fired a proper firearm in my life, nor has anyone on my team, to my knowledge.”

  “Except the doc,” Dean pointed out, tapping his chin. “But when I asked him if he wanted to be our combat medic, he told me to shove my weapon in a wildly inappropriate holster.”

  “Why does he hate you so much?” Marco asked. “You’ve known each other for three days.”

  “He didn’t care for our introduction. I thought he was a Westerner and was about to shoot him, but Graham did point out that he was wearing a superhero uniform. He wasn’t exactly warm after that, but when I pointed out that his victims had been shot between the eyes and how unusual it was for a superhero to be a crack shot, he got angry. Now that I know he’s a Trent, I’m not surprised. You’re a superhero—you know what they’re like.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, leaning toward Dean. “I really don’t.”

  “They’ve killed a lot of people to get to the JM-104. The only reason I haven’t evicted Benjy from the camp is because Eleanor vouched for him, and I trust her completely.”

  I wanted to talk to him about Eleanor, Benjamin, and all the Trents, but Graham cleared his throat. “We were talking about the raid.”

  Dean looked sheepish. “Oh, right. You three are going to be a special tactical unit that works alongside the rest of the Sentinels, but in a separate capacity. Jillian, you’ll be the leader, of course, and during missions your
team reports to you, and only you. You know your team’s capabilities better than I do. However, I’d like it if you all started firearms training today. If you perform well, I’ll see that you’re issued weapons for the mission.”

  I tried to hide my surprise, but my excitement still came through. “Really? A firearm?”

  “Yeah,” he said, amused. “Westerners have superpowers, too. It’s best if you don’t get too close to them. In fact… tell you what—I’ll set up a class where you can teach the guys some basic hand-to-hand later, like a training swap. I know two days isn’t a lot of time, but I want to get the guys trained as fast as possible.”

  “Can I go to the range with Gregory?” Marco asked, his hard exterior melting away at the prospect of spending time with my brother. “He’s your best sniper, right?”

  “Sure is. I’ll arrange that right after we’re done.”

  “I’d like to talk about how my powers can best be used during raids,” Reid said to Ken. “We never got around to that during the ride here.”

  Ken nodded and gestured for Reid to sit down across from him.

  Dean wrapped up the meeting and Reid sat down with Ken, and they were quickly absorbed in conversation about various terrains, tactics, and past fights with the Westerners. Marco hurried off to find Gregory.

  While Dean collected papers and maps, Graham beckoned me to join him in the corner. “I’ll make this quick,” he said, his voice hushed. “I’m going to approach Dean about sneaking into Chattahoochee to get the JM-104. If he says yes, will you join us?”

  I glanced at Dean. He was reviewing a piece of paper with a thoughtful look. “No. I don’t want to go back.”

  “But you’ll tell us where it is, right? We could get in and out in under an hour. Nobody would have to get hurt.”

  “Graham, I understand that you want to see the end of this, but Dean said no. If he’s the Sentinel commander, then his word is final, and I respect that. Besides, if we were caught, God only knows what would happen. They’re willing to kill to keep their grip on power.”

  On top of that, I wasn’t even sure if the JM-104 was still in the camp.

  Graham frowned but nodded. “Fine.” His eyes softened. “On a different note… do you think I have a chance with Ember?”

  I couldn’t help a surprised laugh. “Oh, gosh, Graham. I’m sorry, but no. She’s with Reid, and he’s so wound up over the Westerners these days that it would be foolish to start hitting on his girlfriend. Try someone else, for your own safety.”

  Graham shot Reid an annoyed stare over my shoulder, then looked back at me. “Protective type, huh?”

  “You have no idea.”

  Graham appeared to think for a moment. “How are you and Benjamin doing? I heard that there’s been some adjustment pains since coming here.”

  My face twisted into a scowl. “Does everyone know about our fights?”

  “Um… yeah.”

  “We’re okay,” I muttered. “If you hear any Sentinels gossiping about us, tell them we’re fine and to mind their own business.”

  “That’s not true, though, is it?”

  “Like you said, we’re adjusting,” I insisted, embarrassed that an almost-stranger knew so much about my personal affairs.

  “Don’t let him treat you badly. You deserve someone better than that.” He checked his watch and startled. “Crap, I gotta go. See you later.” He gave me a small smile and hurried out of the building.

  I hung back, waiting for Dean to finish. He joined me at the door and we walked outside, where it had begun to snow.

  My irritation melted away and I pointed ahead as we walked. “I’m going to the armory,” I said, trying not to sound like an excited child. “I’ve never shot a gun before and I’d like to start target practice right away.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have much difficulty. Your super strength will minimize the recoil, and your senses and reflexes will certainly help your aim. I can’t wait to see the guys’ faces when you can outshoot them. You’ll be dropping Westerners like a pro by next week.”

  I began to walk backwards so I could face him. “How about by tomorrow? I bet I’ll bag more than you do.”

  Dean threw his head back and laughed. “You’re the cockiest woman I’ve ever met. But I guess if I’d done what you did and lived to tell about it, I’d be cocky, too.”

  “Would be? You are cocky. Telling me I was your newest Sentinel in front of your whole damn team? I had half a mind to punch you for that.”

  He snickered. “I was disappointed that you didn’t. Like I said, we’ve heard a little bit about what’s going on in Saint Catherine. Between the reports of Battlecry’s insurrection and what Gregory has told me, I was expecting more of a firebrand. You’re cocky, but not nearly as exciting as I’d hoped.”

  I stopped in my tracks and pointed at him. “Tomorrow, I’m going to kill more Westerners than you, and I’m going to shoot them all. No knives, no superhero stuff. Bullets.”

  Dean stopped walking. “Care to place a wager on that?”

  “Sure. What’s the bet?”

  “That I’ll kill more Westerners than you do. Loser has to do something embarrassing. Winner’s choice, of course.”

  “That’s fine. Get ready to taste humiliation,” I said, smooth as silk. “What can I make you do in front of your whole team? I’ll have to think on that.”

  “I already know what I’ll make you do.” An unnamed emotion stirred beneath the humor in his eyes.

  We arrived in front of the little school just as the door opened. A dozen children of all ages ran out.

  Two of them, tiny girls in large winter coats, squealed with delight and ran across the road. They ran up to him and tugged on his sleeves. “Dean! Dean! Make flowers for us!”

  “Easy, easy,” he said, laughing. “Do you have any seeds for me?”

  The smaller of the girls dug in her pocket and produced a small seed. “I saved this from last time.”

  Dean held out his gloved hand and accepted the seed. He kneeled down and brushed away the snow from a small patch of earth, then pressed the seed firmly into the ground.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Instead of answering, he pulled off his glove and held his hand to the ground for a second, then stood up. “Watch,” he whispered.

  The girls were staring fixedly at the spot of earth.

  It was like a time lapse video: a small shoot popped out of the earth, growing and expanding before my eyes. The shoot thickened and stiffened into a stalk bearing thick, waxy green leaves. The stalk divided again and again, forming a lush bush dotted with yellow-tipped round bulbs. Finally, after only ten seconds, the tips opened and exploded into plump yellow roses, more beautiful than any I’d ever seen.

  The girls squealed again.

  Dean snapped two roses from the bush and handed one to each girl. “Go tell your friends that they can come get some flowers. Hurry, though. The bush will be dead by tomorrow in this weather.” Clutching the roses in their hands, they dashed across the road and called to their playmates at recess.

  Dean snapped off the largest rose and handed it to me. “Before the smaller ladies come and pick it clean.”

  I hesitated, then accepted the rose, inhaling its fragrance. “I love roses,” I murmured. “They’re my favorite scent.”

  “I’ve always preferred wood smoke, myself. But I can see the appeal in roses.”

  I put the rose to my nose again. “You have a gift, Dean,” I said, my voice as soft as the rose’s petals. “I think your true value isn’t to be found on the battlefield. You’re like Benjamin that way. Together, you two could change the world.”

  His smile faded, and his face took on a vacant, far-away look. “I was a field slave, back before I escaped. I hid the extent of my powers and pretended that I could run out of juice. If they’d known that I could produce crops over and over without stopping, they would’ve worked me to death. Or at least had an armed guard on me at all times. That�
��s what Benjamin would’ve had to look forward to, if he hadn’t killed his captors.” He was silent for several seconds, lost in thought. “I’m glad he’s safe.”

  He looked at me. I had to avert my eyes from his piercing gaze.

  I twiddled my rose. “How did you escape?”

  “My mom broke her ankle one day, when I was fifteen. My father, our owner, decided she was too much of a burden, so he shot her. That night, Ken, Andrew, and I made a run for it, simple as that. Ken can turn into a wolf, so he could smell and hear if they were following us. I covered our tracks with growth, and of course made food while we were in the wild. We were all fifteen, desperate, and terrified. I’ve never forgotten that feeling. I saw a little bit of it in your team when we met you.”

  I sniffed the rose again. “Yeah, we were. We’d gone to so much trouble to find Benjamin and Isabel, and we wound up nearly freezing to death, then in the custody of the wrong Westerners. Then suddenly there was shooting and horses and death. And then my brother.” My voice broke. “He hates me.”

  Dean put his hands on my shoulders. “No, he doesn’t. Gregory is adjusting as much as you are. A lot of the guys have trouble seeing the camps as anything but evil, and superheroes, to them, represent the camps. Gregory has a lot of hatred and bitterness he needs to work through. He’s trying to reconcile the sister he loves to the ideology he hates. Give him time. He really was beside himself when he found out that he’d shot his beloved sister. All of us have heard the most amazing tales about you. I decided years ago that if half of them were true, you were the kind of woman I wanted to meet.”

  “Really? What did he say?” I looked into his eyes, then away, unable to stand the intensity.

  “That you hate rules, always had a chip on your shoulder, and couldn’t be told what to do.”

  “I was hauled before the tribunal for those qualities,” I mumbled. “As punishment, they threatened to whip Reid if I didn’t marry this really awful guy.”

  A flash of anger crossed Dean’s face. “Tell me you grabbed your team and ran off right then.”

  “Not exactly.” My words were barely audible. “I didn’t realize I could until after Matthew had taken some liberties with me. I’m having some trouble dealing with it. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”