“I shouldn’t have taken her outside,” Timber sobs. “I should have just kept her inside, in the apartment, and this never would have happened.”
“What did happen?” I ask as I steady myself to sit on the floor beside her.
Timber takes a moment to catch her breath and blow her nose. She can’t seem to get through more than four or five words without sniffling.
“When you didn’t come back that night we all thought you had run off to join the militia. I was so angry with you.”
“But I didn’t, I—”
“I know that now,” Timber whimpers. “But at the time, that seemed to be the logical explanation. The next day I took Evie out for a picnic lunch. She was so full of energy, Pollen. It’s like being out in the sunlight after all those months underground recharged her. I promised her after lunch I’d teach her how to climb a tree. But she was restless. She ran off into one of the training arenas without me. Nobody was training there that day, but I still felt uncomfortable being there, especially unarmed. I caught up with her eventually, way out by the perimeter. She was standing over a dead body.”
“Dead body?”
Timber nods. “It was Daniel, one of the Watchers. His clothes had been stripped and he had marks around his neck like he was strangled.
“I grabbed Evie and ran back, but he intercepted us. The guy had on the Watcher uniform, but I didn’t recognize him.” Timber is, or was, a nurse here at Ceborec. One of the perks to that job is that she knows pretty much everybody who lives here. “I told Evie to run while I tried to hold him off. But he was too big. And I was unarmed. He knocked me out with one blow. When I woke up, she was gone. Everyone came out to search for her, but it was too late.” Timber wipes the trails of tears from her cheeks.
“We’ll find her, Timber. We will.” I say it to try to comfort her, but she just looks at me painfully and shakes her head.
“You can’t go back there, Pollen. Please promise me you won’t go. Not after what happened to Yoric.” I pull Timber against my shoulder and stroke her back as if she were Evie, crying over a skinned knee. Drake looks stiff and awkward. This is one of those emotional moments he doesn’t quite know how to respond to.
“Yoric was her boyfriend,” I explain to Drake. He nods.
“I’m sorry . . . about Yoric. He fought courageously.” Drake seems to force the words out unnaturally. What is he doing? This is not like him at all. Trying to placate a woman he’s never even met, a woman who is partially responsible for the kidnapping of his daughter. He even stretches his hand out to pat her knee awkwardly.
Then it hits me. Timber is petite, blond, and cute, just like Evie’s mother, Ivy, was. Drake’s actually trying to hit on Timber? I should be disgusted given the inappropriate timing. But Drake’s been, let’s say, “out of practice” for a while. Not to mention holed up in Crimson for over a year, without access to women. How could he not try to get back in the game now that he’s free and gaining his strength back? Part of me wants to bust out laughing, but I swallow back the amusement. I wouldn’t want Timber to get the wrong impression at a time like this. I’ll have to give Drake some pointers when we get out of here—like don’t hit on a woman whose boyfriend just died a violent death while rescuing you.
“Come out with us tonight,” I say, trying to cut through the tension. “We’ll go get some drinks at The Snake Hole.”
“I don’t think I’m ready to go out yet,” Timber sniffles.
“Yes, you are,” I say more forcefully. “You need to start living your life again. That’s what you told me when I just wanted to curl up and die, remember? Well, you were right. And so am I. You’re coming out tonight. We’ll be here . . .” I look over at Drake, who seems pleased. “Eight?” Drake nods.
“We’ll be here at eight,” he confirms.
***
Drake’s gait is stiffer than usual as we walk down the corridor on our way back outside. His cheeks are slightly flushed and his face strained as if he is trying not to smile. I nudge him playfully.
“What was that all about?”
“What?”
“You like her, don’t you?”
Drake smiles slyly. “Why would you think that?”
“Oh, come on Drake. Admit it.”
“Was it that obvious?”
“Maybe not to her, but you might as well have a neon flashing light on your crotch with a megaphone that shouts, ‘I’m horny!’”
“Pollen!”
I giggle uncontrollably until a sharp pinch in my belly reminds me of the wound that hasn’t healed completely.
“Anyway, just give her some time, okay? Her boyfriend just died!”
“Yeah, I know,” Drake mumbles. “I’ll take it easy.”
As we approach the atrium I notice the holographic model of the Earth shuttle that used to stand tall in the center of the rotunda has disappeared. I wonder why? Down below, a mass of people drives into the building in continuous waves, most of whom I’ve never seen before. I spot Chlamyra Rowan, our head scientist, guiding some of the people around to the right of the annular room, and Marley, her assistant, guiding some to the left.
“Do you know what’s going on?” I ask Drake. He stares down below and shakes his head.
“No.”
Drake follows me down three sets of stairs that line the outer wall of the atrium and we weave our way through the crowd, his hand firmly clasped around my arm. The mass of bystanders is too dense where Myra is, so I turn back to find Marley, excusing myself as I bump into the men, women, and children who stand around like tourists, craning their necks and staring at the dome above us. Fortunately, their dirty looks transform to those of empathy when they see my bloated belly, and a few people even step out of the way politely.
“Marley, what’s going on?” I ask.
Marley jerks her head toward me, flinging her dark curls in panic. She seems surprised to see me. When she looks up and sees Drake behind me, she relaxes.
“These are some of the survivors from one of the western branches of COPS. There have been some, uh, disturbances out there, so they are seeking refuge here.”
“What kind of disturbances?” I ask. But the crowd pushes forward as Marley guides them in and we are separated.
“Marley!” I shout. “What’s going on?”
Marley glances back at me, but her discouraging look tells me I won’t be getting any answers right now.
I feel a tug stretching my shirt downward and find a little girl standing there gazing up at me with bright brown eyes. She looks to be a few years older than Evie, with dark skin and her raven hair in braided pigtails. As I squat down she grazes her fingers over my left temple.
“What’s this?” she asks, her voice soft and gentle, with no regard for the chaos surrounding her.
“It’s a tattoo. An infinity fly.”
She continues to stroke it, fascinated by the detail. “Why is it there?”
How do I answer that question for such a little girl? Could she possibly understand everything that’s happened? What they are doing at Crimson? Should I keep her in the dark to protect her innocence? I struggled with these same questions when Evie confronted me. What did I say to Evie? What would I say now, knowing that I won’t always be around to protect her?
“Some very bad people put this on me.”
“Why?”
“Because they wanted to own me. But I escaped. I got away and they will never catch me again.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because we have an army now. We are going to protect this place and defeat the bad people. And then we are going to move to a new home very, very far away.”
“Will they put that on me?”
“Not if you stay here with us.”
The little girl smiles and seems satisfied with my answers. I wish I could feel good about it. But something stirs deep within me and I know our conflict with Crimson and the Trinity is just getting started.
Chapter 5
&n
bsp; The Snake Hole is bustling with activity now that the new refugees arrived. Bodies are bulging out into the corridor and I have a pang of anxiety that freezes me in my place and keeps me from entering. Timber squeezes my hand—she’s not ready to be around so many people. We almost leave, but I spot Nicron and Jansen, who are waving us over to their seats at the other end of the bar. I take the lead, with Marcus, Timber, and Drake following, and weave through the sweat-soaked bodies crammed into the lounge. Most make an effort to move when they see my bulbous belly, but they don’t bother to hide the shocked expressions at seeing a pregnant girl in a bar.
“Hey guys,” Nicron says as he sweeps the dreadlocks from the side of his face. “We were just about to leave. You want our seats?” Although he speaks to all of us, I can see he is obviously directing his words at me—the weak, pathetic pregnant woman who always needs to sit on her ass to be comfortable.
“Thanks, Nicron,” I say. “That’s sweet.”
“We almost had a change of plans after seeing this place. This is crazy!” Marcus exclaims twisting his head around to view the insanity around us.
“I expect it should calm down a bit after the newbies get their assignments and start working,” says Jansen, tipping back the final drops of his pink-hued drink. He plucks a ruby red cherry from the bottom of his glass and pops it into his mouth.
Jansen takes a step back and offers his hand to help me up onto the barstool, as only a gentleman would. Honestly, with his drop-dead gorgeous looks and genteel personality, Jansen would be the impossibly perfect man if he weren’t gay. Well, then again, perhaps that’s why he’s the impossibly perfect man! I chuckle to myself as I admit that no straight man could possibly be as perfect as Jansen. Marcus comes close, but not quite.
Timber hops on to the seat next to me, while Marcus and Drake frame us, eager to order drinks. The bartender, a heavy-set middle-aged man with a tonsured head, is overwhelmed and frequently has to wipe the sweat from his brow with a bar towel. After a few minutes, a tall, lean, dark-haired man with a nose the size of Mount Baerstynn hops behind the bar and gives him a hand. I assume he’s one of the new refugees since I don’t recognize him. Then again, I don’t really know half the people that live here anyway.
The new guy begins putting on quite a show, juggling shot glasses and tossing full bottles of liquor behind his back and then catching them as he pours long ribbons of liquid into the glasses below. I cringe and squeeze my eyes shut expecting to hear the crashing sound of broken glass, but when he lets a bottle fall he catches it by the neck just in time. Onlookers cheer and applaud. I believe he’s found his new post at Ceborec.
He smoothly slides a drink to Timber and winks unabashedly. She smiles politely back at him.
“I’m Cain,” says the new bartender as he boldly holds his hand out toward us. We all take turns shaking hands and introducing ourselves as he pours the remainder of our drinks.
“Welcome to Ceborec,” Marcus declares.
“Thanks, man. It’s quite some place you got here. Makes Doborec look like a mental institution.”
“Doborec?” I ask. I squeeze a wedge of lemon into my sparkling water and take a sip, never taking my focus off the conversation.
“Yeah. It’s the research facility out in Dolburn.” Dolburn is a small city on a desert plain way out west. It used to be where they tested the first nuclear missiles in North Cythera. That’s what all the history textbooks say anyway. After the government disbanded the nuclear program the COPS purchased the land and built a botanical research center and university there.
A man brushes past me and leans his elbow on the bar to get Cain’s attention.
“A gin and tonic and a dragon’s breath,” he orders sternly.
“Yes, sir. Right away,” Cain answers courteously.
“What happened?” I ask as Cain places a glass of ice on the bar and pours liquid from four different bottles simultaneously—two in each hand. The liquid turns a deep shade of red.
“I was packing up my things, preparing to move—we were all still underground at the time. There was a massive explosion. It rattled the entire facility. The upper levels of the bunker were demolished along with everyone in them. We had to drop everything and escape through the Web. I could still hear the explosions as we were leaving.”
Cain takes a small lighter from his back pocket and ignites the tall glass of red liquid. He pushes the drinks over to the man next to me and I lean away as the man leaves, praying he doesn’t spill any fire on me. Cain leans on the bar.
“They’re saying that the Trinity was using us as a testing site again.”
“What, nukes?” Drake asks, setting his glass down on the bar with more force than he meant to.
Cain nods and leaves to help fill other drink orders.
“Damn,” Drake huffs under his breath.
My stomach clenches. If the Trinity is testing nuclear weapons out west, they fully intend to use them. And Ceborec is no doubt their primary target. Sensing my discomfort, Marcus firmly rubs my shoulder, trying to release the tension.
“They won’t get us, Pollen,” Marcus whispers into my ear. “Don’t worry. We have something they need.”
I try to smile at him, but it’s contrived. How can I not be worried? We’re sitting ducks here at Ceborec. They know we’re here and could attack at any time. Perhaps the bombs are a last resort. That brings little comfort.
I glance over at Timber, who doesn’t seem to be listening to the conversation. She’s not even drinking really; just stirring the skinny red straw in her rosy drink heedlessly while the ice melts. I need to cheer her up. Maybe that will take my mind off the impending danger that awaits us. I shift my stool a little closer to her.
“So I heard the medical clinic has been swamped with all the newcomers being processed in. I bet Orla is pulling her hair out with the reduction of nurse staff.”
A hint of a smile appears on Timber’s face, but she doesn’t even look up at me.
“I’m joining the militia, Pollen.”
“What? But you’re the best nurse we’ve got. They’re going crazy without you down there. What’s going to happen when we’re attacked?”
“If we’re attacked. I’ll still help out in the clinic, too. Plus, as a soldier I can be a first responder to injuries on the field. I need to do something, Pollen. I won’t sit around mourning when we’re under constant threat. I’m going to see Granby tomorrow.”
“But Timber, after what happened I don’t think he’ll—”
“I’ll go with you,” Drake cuts in. “I’ll vouch for you, but he may still want to send you to Dr. Nesbith to be sure you’re mentally stable.”
Timber nods sadly and continues stirring the warm drink.
“Marcus?” His hand tenses at the distinctly female voice that beckons him.
We both turn to see the woman standing behind him. Her ginger hair perfectly frames her ivory skin and cascades down to her elbows in full, flowing waves. Her features are stunning, high cheekbones, bright eyes, and a heart-shaped face that tapers down to a perfectly narrowed chin. If sirens of ancient mythology existed, she would be what I’d imagine.
“Siera?” Marcus squints his eyes as if trying to look through her. My heart drops into the floor and suddenly I feel painful shivers rush throughout my limbs. Siera? His ex-wife, Siera? How can that be?
“I almost didn’t recognize you with your hair so short.” She smiles widely and throws herself onto Marcus, curling her arms around his shoulders. I glare at her, ready to rip her perfect, lustrous hair out of her scalp when our eyes meet.
“What are you doing here?” Marcus asks, peeling her body off his.
“I moved out west a couple years ago. Ended up at Doborec after the virus.” Siera shifts her glance toward me, picking up my unwelcome stare, and back at Marcus. “Can we talk alone for a sec?”
Suddenly my jealous instincts take hold and I grab Marcus by the wrist. Now I understand the tension that exists when Marcus and G
lenn are in the same room together. But this time, it’s coming from me. Marcus turns back to me and wraps his arm around my shoulder proudly.
“Siera, this is Pollen, my fiancé.”
Siera’s eyes lower to my belly and her jaw drops before she quickly shuts it. The grimace that appears on her face for a split second reveals her true feelings. With a forged grace she curves her lips into a spurious smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Pollen.” When she raises her hand I fantasize tearing the entire arm off her curvy body. What’s wrong with me? I’ve never felt this jealous of anybody in my life. Not even when I was with Glenn. Instead I take her hand and firmly shake it.
“Marcus?” she asks, though it sounds more like a command.
Marcus hesitates. “I’ll just be a few minutes, Pollen.”
“Wait, what?” I can’t believe he’s going to leave me to speak to her. Why can’t they talk right here?
He turns back to Siera. “Give us a minute.” She nods and steps back a few paces.
“Pollen. I’m sorry about this. I swear I didn’t know she was here.”
“But you’re going to go talk to her. Alone?”
“I’m going to let her say what she needs to say. That’s all.”
I take a deep, laborious breath. Now I understand how Marcus feels when Glenn is near. The jealousy. The fear. The helplessness. I can’t give in to them. Marcus is mine. I know that. I have to trust him. Now that the tables are turned I have to be strong. It’s not fair to act this way after everything I’ve done to Marcus.
“Okay.”
Marcus tilts my chin up with his fingers and lowers his lips to mine. My expectations of a sweet, simple kiss are blown away as he deepens it. I briefly wonder if this is too passionate for public consumption, but then I secretly hope Siera is watching and I rake my fingers through Marcus’s short hair. Marcus has done an excellent job convincing me of his loyalty and all previous feelings of uncertainty have shrunk to mere particles of dust.
“I’ll be right back,” he says and I nod, electrical shocks still coursing through me.
The Trinity (Fall of Venus) Page 3
