by Fall, Carly
“I need you to listen to me, Beverly,” Hudson said in a low hard voice that made her feel even more anxious.
“What’s going on?” she said, hearing the panic in her voice.
“You need to stay in my room. Lock that fucking door, and do not, I repeat, do not come out.”
Beverly felt the tentacles of fear begin in her chest and slowly spread out to the rest of her body. “What’s going on?” she asked again.
“I don’t have time for that right now,” he said. “Just stay in there and don’t open that door until I tell you otherwise.”
There was a soft click, and Beverly stared at the phone. The alarm seemed to be getting louder. Fear was making her cold.
She wrapped her arms around herself and looked around the room. He had told her to stay put, so it wasn’t a fire or anything. Was someone breaking in? Was it the Colonist? As she looked at the door, the walls began to close in on her. Her breath came in short bursts, and despite her chill, a sheen of sweat broke out on her brow. Panic and anxiety raced through her, and her desire for a pill became overwhelming. Nothing was helping—breathing exercises, visiting happy places—she was in the here and now and totally freaked out by the night’s events. Turing to the bedside table, she hoped to see Hudson’s pain pills, but the bottle wasn’t there. She fumbled through the bedside table drawers. The blaring alarm caused her anxiety to crawl to such heights, she began pulling out the drawers and emptying them on the floor.
Running for the dresser, she began going through Hudson’s drawers, dumping some of the contents out, ransacking others.
Nothing.
She ran to the bathroom and looked in the medicine cabinet, tears in her eyes, her breathing heavy. Her hands were now shaking uncontrollably as she fumbled around the bathroom, sinking to her knees and finally finding the pills under the sink wrapped in some gauze and bandages.
Taking a moment, she studied the bottle. Vicodin. It was calling her name, its whispery voice burrowing itself deep within her becoming an entity all to itself, its noise deafening.
The alarm continued to blare, and Beverly slowly opened the bottle, turning the top as if she were in some type of trance, the Vicodin a siren’s song to the addict within her.
Suddenly a voice within her was louder than the alarm, louder than the voice of her addiction.
NO!
She threw the bottle across the bathroom, got up from the floor, and ran to the door. Pushing the button for the elevator, she was relieved that she didn’t have to wait because she was so close to turning back for those pills. She pushed the button for the top floor and was thankful when the elevator doors closed.
Bending over, she put her hands on her knees. Taking deep breaths, she tried to relax, but her run-in with the Colonist, the way Hudson had acted—not to mention the—alarm had her nerves so frayed, it was impossible.
She had no idea what was going on upstairs, but she couldn’t be alone right now or her willpower would fail and her own inner demon would win.
Chapter 45
The wind whipped the dirt into a frenzy as Hudson stepped out. That fucking Colonist really picked a bad time to make an appearance weather-wise. Hudson saw a tsunami of dirt headed directly for them, lightning hot on its heels. He guessed rain and maybe some hail wouldn’t be too far behind. And sweet Jesus was it hot. He took a quick peek at the thermometer. One hundred and twelve.
Hudson had been feeling a little blue with Beverly leaving, but this situation just put his mood right in the shitter. And to top it all off, he was wearing one of his Hermes silk shirts. He smoothed his hand over the fine, black fabric, sort of a farewell. Dammit, he loved this shirt.
He began walking to where they had pinpointed the Colonist and saw him getting ready to climb the inner fence. Hudson stopped and watched him; he could feel the whippings of sand against his back as it swirled around him. The Colonist hadn’t seen him yet, but it would only be a matter of minutes since they were in the open desert. The Colonist made his way toward the silo, his arm shielding his eyes. Hudson thought about tossing the knife at him, but with the wind, it would be an unpredictable throw.
Hudson stood rock still with his hands at his sides, waiting for the asshole to get closer. Finally, the Colonist looked up and saw him. He stopped in his tracks, and a small smile crossed his face.
Neither said anything. The wind picked up even more. Each waited for the other to make a move.
The Colonist strode forward slowly, stopping about ten feet in front of Hudson. “You left early the last time we got together.”
Hudson shrugged. “Sorry, man. You really weren’t my type.”
“I can’t wait to finish you off.”
Now it was Hudson’s turn to smile. “Bring it on, sweetheart. I’ve got nothing better to do today than dance with you.”
The Colonist lunged.
Chapter 46
As Beverly rode up the elevator, she was scared, anxious, and she was pretty sure she was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. She had no idea what to expect when she reached the top floor. The doors opened to the kitchen, and Beverly practically ran out; the alarm actually seemed louder up here than it did in Hudson’s room. Suddenly, it went quiet, and the silence was deafening.
She made her way through the kitchen, checked the living room, then made her way down the hall to the room with the glass walls. What had Abby called it? The War Room, that was it. She peeked around the corner and saw Talin sitting at his computer. She looked up at the big, white screen, and at first she thought he was watching some sort of movie. The actors rolled around on the dirt, trading fists to the face. Both actors had knives in their hands, and she thought about how real the violence looked. And she wondered why Talin was watching a movie when the alarm had been going off just minutes ago.
Then she realized that it wasn’t a movie.
It was Hudson.
She gasped and came into the room just as Talin turned around.
“Aw fuck,” he said under his breath.
Chapter 47
As Hudson and the Colonist rolled around in the dirt, fists flying, knives slicing, Hudson couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew the Colonist. The thought left him quickly as he began getting the upper hand on the fight.
He was able to disarm the Colonist and threw the knife about twenty feet away. The Colonist hit him in the diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him, and making him immobile for a precious few seconds.
The Colonist jumped up and ran for the knife.
Hudson was on his heels.
He caught him by his shirt and pulled him back just as the Colonist spun out away from him, and Hudson was left holding a piece of white cotton.
Hudson’s mind went to that place where he didn’t have to think about what he was doing. His body and mind were programmed to kill, and his legs and arms thrashed out in a violent dance, making contact with the Colonist.
A moment later the Colonist hit the ground, and Hudson was on him before the guy knew he was horizontal. As Hudson raised his knife to jam it into the Colonist’s heart, the Colonist said, “Can you really kill your own brother?”
Hudson’s arm stopped mere inches from the Colonist’s chest.
“That’s right, brother. It’s me.”
Hudson shook his head. “You’re so full of shit.”
‘“The road to happiness is peace in your soul.’ Isn’t that what dear old mom used to say to us? Well, before she died by one of those bastard animals in the forest. And let’s see...you called me Stretch, because I was taller than you, yet I can’t help but think there were other reasons for your stupid nickname.”
Hudson’s mind reeled. The Colonist could’ve heard the words when he had him tied to the chair, but there was no way for him to know how his mother died. Was there? And how would he know his nickname for his brother?
“That’s right, Hudson. It’s me. I guess you thought that I was killed that night as well, right? Well, surprise! All I had to do was ignor
e the little animal and step aside and then watch him walk into camp. It was thrilling.”
Hudson felt his body go limp. “Why?” he croaked.
A bolt of lightning cracked through the sky, the dust storm fully upon them now. His eyes watered as the sand peppered them.
“Because I could! I wanted to kill, so I did. Just not with my own hand. They were my first, but not my last. I ended up on The Colony, and the rest is history.”
Hudson thought of the anger that had been his companion when he was younger. If it weren’t for the Peacekeeper who showed mercy on him, he might have also eventually ended up on the Colony.
In fact, the anger and hurt that raged through him at that time, he had no doubt he would have ended up in on the Colony.
But negative emotions were like that. They ate at you, gnawing your soul and heart until there was little left. They made you hate your life and yourself. After the death of his parents, he had been on a downward spiral, anger his fuel, hate the air he breathed.
And this asshole, his brother, was responsible for it all.
“And that fucking redhead and that blond Warrior? They’re next. After I’m done with you, I’m going to finish what I started with her.”
The Colonist took the opportunity to turn the tables and quickly had Hudson pinned.
“I thought you were killed as well, dear brother. Imagine my surprise when I had you tied to that chair and you started spouting off the shit our mother use to say.”
The Colonist wrapped his hands around Hudson’s neck and squeezed. “I’m going to enjoy this."
***
Beverly watched in horror as the two men fought. “We have to help him!” she screamed, panic threading her voice. She turned to run out the door. What she would do, she had no idea, but she had to help Hudson.
Talin grabbed her waist and pulled her to his chest. “Sorry, Beverly. Hudson gave me orders that you and I are to stay in here, and I’m to make sure that nothing is to happen to you.”
“Put me down!” she yelled.
“Promise me you’ll stay right here, Beverly. Hudson is going to be fine. This is what he was made for.” She struggled and kicked, but she wasn’t any match for Talin’s strength.
“Okay,” she said, defeated. “All right. Please. I won’t go anywhere, just put me down.”
Talin slowly lowered her to her feet, and both turned to look at the screen.
She gasped and felt tears come to her eyes. Hudson was on the ground, the Colonist’s hands wrapped around his neck.
“Crap. What the fuck?”
Beverly couldn’t have said it better herself.
Chapter 48
Hudson’s shock that Stretch was alive and a Colonist, quickly diminished when he realized, hey, he wasn’t breathing.
Another crack of thunder sounded, a lightning bolt whizzed across the sky, and Mother Nature let her wrath go by opening the floodgates of heaven. The rain pounded into his face, making it hard to open his eyes, and he was soaked within seconds.
He felt his body go limp. This could be his way out, right here. He could simply let his brother finish the job he had started, and it would all be over for him.
He felt energy rush through his limbs. No, he wasn’t going to do that. He realized that the little fledgling of wanting to live had blossomed into something stronger. He would live. There were a number of reasons he was going to kill this cocksucker, starting with the fact that his brother had murdered their parents. Well, he had allowed the animal in the forest to murder their parents, and for Hudson, that was close enough.
Hudson brought his arm up with force and knocked Stretch under the chin, sending him flying into the dirt that was quickly turning to mud.
After taking a couple of deep breaths, Hudson was on Stretch again.
And he was done screwing around.
“You have no idea what’s coming for you!” Stretch raged.
The rain came down even harder and Hudson paused. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means that I’ve put events into motion that will finally get rid of you and the other Warriors. You’re finished, brother. You’ll finally die, just as you were supposed to in that forest.”
“You think so?”
“I know so, brother. Count your days.”
Hudson could tell that Stretch wasn’t going to give up any more details, and Hudson was in no mood for twenty questions or riddles.
He lifted his knife to finish off what he had started. The thunder roared and the lightning cracked, and Hudson brought down the knife into Stretch’s heart.
Stretch let out a violent scream. Hudson rolled away and waited for Stretch to turn to ash. The thunder clapped again, and lightning bolted out of the sky and struck the steel knife. Hudson watched Stretch’s body bow and then burst into black ash.
He gave a brief salute to the heavens for excellent aim, and then realized the knife was also history.
Dammit. That was part of his favorite set.
He stood slowly and gingerly made his way back to the silo, looking at the damage to his shirt. That fucker deserved to die simply because Hudson would have to throw the shirt away.
His neck was sore, and he had a few bumps and bruises, but nothing too terrible. He went up the metal stairs, put in the code to get into the silo, and the three-foot thick steel door opened. He went down another set of stairs, punched in another code, and the door opened. Beverly stood a few feet away from him, a horrified look on her face.
Shit. If she was up here instead of down in his room where he told her to stay, she saw what just happened.
What was it with the females in this house who never did what they were told to do?
He knew she hated violence—she had told him this as she recounted the stabbings, shootings, and other violence that came through the hospital—and she had just witnessed a murder. Granted, it was a justifiable murder, but a death just the same. He tried to put himself in her shoes, and he imagined all of this would be very stressful for her.
“You okay, man?” Talin asked, jogging down the hall. “That was brutal. What happened?”
Hudson didn’t acknowledge Talin, but stood in the kitchen looking at Beverly. He felt again like she could see right through him, like she was probing his thoughts and soul, looking for some form of regret for his actions.
“Hudson?” Talin said.
Hudson watched Beverly turn and push the button to the elevator with a shaky hand.
“Beverly—”
“No, Hudson. I can’t talk to you right now. I…I need some time alone.”
The doors opened and she stepped in. She didn’t look at him again.
“You want to know what happened?” Hudson said quietly, turning to Talin. “I just killed my brother.”
Talin stood speechless.
“And now, I’m going to get cleaned up. When the others get home, tell them to leave me alone. I’m not in a chatty mood.”
Talin nodded as Hudson headed for the bar. He grabbed a bottle of Chivas Regal and poured half a glass, slammed it down, noticing that his hand was shaking.
Hudson tried to get a grip on what he was feeling. His brother had gone from the fun-loving kid to a Colonist. Hudson had always known something was wrong with him, but he never imagined that Stretch had lived through the attack in the forest, or have his heart turn to the blackness of a Colonist. The guy was obviously sick and twisted enough to let his own parents die an excruciating death. Man, that screamed of Colonist material. Those fuckers had more than one wire loose. Maybe like four or ten of them. And not only were they loose, they were crossed, frayed, and shorted-out.
He filled his glass again and slammed it down, then headed for the stairs. The energy rippling through his body made nine floors seem like a walk in the park.
Entering his room, he noticed the drawers pulled out, books, papers, and clothing strewn everywhere. He wondered what happened, but didn’t really care enough to think about an answer. He noticed Be
verly’s suitcase was no longer there, but pushed that thought aside as well.
He went to the bathroom and stripped out of his soaked clothes, giving a mea-culpa and a brief goodbye to the shirt, and then examined his body a little more closely, glad that his original assessment was correct: just some scratches and bruises.
Meeting his own eyes in the mirror, he did a little soul searching. He tried to find the place in his heart where he regretted his actions, where he felt sadness for killing his brother.
It simply wasn’t there.
He thought of all the damage his brother had done: he had kidnapped Faith, killed her parents, and then there was that little slice and dice he had done on Hudson. Not to mention their parents, and who knew how many other deaths he was responsible for.
No, he didn’t feel any regret.
Then he thought about his own soul. Yes, he was different than his brother, but he could have easily traveled down that same road. It had been there in front of him, laid out like a welcoming meal waiting to be devoured.
And he had almost done so.
If it wasn’t for that Peacekeeper, he would have definitely gone down that road and probably ended in the Colony, where his being and his soul would have turned to black.
No, he wasn’t too far away from his brother. Like his brother, he killed. The difference was that he killed only when necessary, while his brother killed at will. What they had in common was that neither of them regretted their actions.
Hudson turned to the shower and twisted the knob. Within seconds hot water flowed from the showerhead. He stepped in and felt the grime leave his body.
He might not have felt any regret for his actions, but it was apparent that Beverly had been horrified, which was too bad. He couldn’t change what he was, what his purpose in this jolly, little mission entailed. He was a killer. Basically, his job description said kill any Colonist with any means necessary. No typing or accounting skills needed, just a PhD in the art of dealing death.
He had straight A’s and excelled in it.
