Swarmed

by Simone Pond

  I can almost hear the oppressive SOB snickering at my human folly. But I’m not about to let the bastard win. Closing my eyes, I focus on my memories. I go back to the car ride with Harper, picturing her studying the piece of paper. I squeeze my eyes tighter and zero in on that moment, pushing myself to remember until the numbers begin to flash in my mind in incandescent light.

  I sit at the console and log into the system using the first part of the code, then I place my brother’s hand on the scanner, hoping this is the final time I have to do this. The screen sparks to life, and I enter in more codes to bring up the DOD program. Relief floods over me. Utter calming relief. I’m in the system. I’m almost there with a minute to spare on my DOD.

  And then …

  An ever-familiar buzz comes from somewhere—a sound I know all too well. The swarm is coming. Only, this time they’re coming from inside the server room. I furiously type, but the sequence isn’t right. My jaw clenches as I re-enter the code again. The swarm surrounds me. Some of the flies land on my arms, electrifying my nervous system. More and more flies circle me, until the buzzing reaches deafening decibels. I’m lightheaded and nauseated, but I keep typing. Then the weight of the swarm pulls me down. I strain to press the enter button before collapsing to the floor in neurogenic shock.

  36

  (no time remaining)

  An unexpected relief attenuates the currents of torture. Either I’m slipping into unconsciousness or I’m dead. The flies are no longer enveloping my body, and the buzz has softened. I wrestle to open my eyes, wondering why the swarm is suddenly changing direction. They begin swirling around the SOB like a cyclone. Millions of flies coming from every direction—giant metal vats, the air vents and every single crevice. The ginormous swarm blankets the server from floor to ceiling.

  The code worked!

  The SOB is going to blow, and I need to clear the area. Using my remaining strength, I scoot away, dragging my half-paralyzed body across the room. I hide under a console, waiting for the SOB to explode. And when it finally does, chunks of the machine spew everywhere like a nuclear blast.

  37

  (all the time in the world)

  The ringing silence brings me back from the dead. I crawl out from under the console. Shattered glass carpets the floor, and there’s an enormous cavity where the System of Balance used to stand. There’s also a gaping hole in the floor that opens to the lower level. Down below, men and women are wandering in the rubble, disoriented and confused. Chaos sweeps through the place like a hurricane as people are shouting updates coming off the Wire to no one in particular.

  “My DOD is gone!”

  I glance at my wrist. No more glowing date. No more ticking clock. No more DOD. The clamor grows louder as more and more people start to realize they’ve been liberated.

  I poke my head through the hole and call down, “Hey, can you give me a hand?”

  A few people help pull me through the hole and set me into a chair.

  “Did you do this?” a lady asks.

  I nod.

  A group gathers and starts applauding me, but I wave for them to stop. “Can someone pull up the Wire on this console?”

  Someone quickly pulls up multiple feeds, all of which are sharing explicit details about the drug trade, along with the identities of the high-level constituents involved. The Borders have hijacked the communications network, exposing the entire racket. Right now, the southern grids are hearing the truth for the first time. The SOB is gone. We are free from the shackles of our DODs.

  I helped make this happen.

  “You should get to the lab and tend to that wound. You don’t look so good.”

  That’s right, I’ve been shot. I leap out of the chair and start hobbling to the elevator. I need to get to Noah.

  I make it out of the building and trudge to the woods, hoping with all hope that Noah didn’t get swarmed. I overrated my strength and unwillingly collapse halfway across the field. The chirping crickets make a chorus all around me as night falls and tiny stars sprinkle across the sky. I need to rest my eyes for just a few minutes …

  *

  I wake up in a lab where a woman is injecting me with a heavy dose of painkillers before she starts digging into my flesh to retrieve the bullet. Noah is standing next to the cot, holding my hand.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “I’m fine, but what’s going on out there?” I try to sit up, but it’s too painful.

  “You mean besides riots and mayhem in the southern grids?”

  “It’s that bad?”

  “Officials from the northern grids are worried this will trigger an uprising in their region and lead to another civil war.”

  I look over at Noah. “This is what Emily warned us about,” I say.

  “Everything’s going to be okay.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my fingers.

  “It’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

  “Once we get back home, we’ll figure it out.”

  My stomach tightens, and I turn away.

  “What is it, Kalliste?” Noah seems to already know what’s on my mind.

  “I’m not going back. I have nothing to go back to,” I explain, tearfully.

  “What about me?”

  “I want to be with you, Noah. Truly I do, but I also want to help the Borders. Imagine what it’ll be like when people start having withdrawals. I want to help.”

  He’s quiet for a few minutes while the lady finishes wrapping my leg. “I need to make sure my parents are okay,” he says.

  “I understand.” I wipe away a tear, smiling and pulling him in for a kiss.

  “I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

  “You better come back, Noah Brenson. Now that we ample time, I’d prefer spending it with you—preferably not wading through swamps or rivers.”

  His tender smile is reassuring, and I know that everything will work out. It always does. We don’t need to cling to each other in terrified desperation. That’s a fossilized belief of mine that I’m willing to surrender. And maybe that’s what life is about—a constant letting go. Learning to accept this painful, beautiful reality exactly as it stands. Stop fearing what might happen and embrace what is happening. But I don’t know. I’m just happy I have all the time in the world to figure it out.

  38

  Back in Darien, Noah and I sit at the train station as the world around us runs amok. Distant gunshots echo. Smoke billows up from far-off spots along the mountain ranges. People are scattering out of the grids and heading to more reclusive locations. Once the news about the Technocrats running the drug trade hit the Wire, it spread like wild fire, causing a commotion that stirred up Short-Timers far and wide. And with the SOB gone, many are experiencing their first taste of freedom. It’s confusing and overwhelming. I’m still reeling over the fact that I no longer have to keep track of time. The uprising isn’t only affecting the speakeasies and drug labs, but Long-Timers are getting attacked in the streets. Even those not involved in the drug trade because their high status makes them a target. Many Short-Timers want retribution for their years of suffering under the SOB’s suffocating grip, and they’re taking out their frustration on any Long-Timer they can find. Fighting in the streets. Looting. Riots. Homes burning. Officials are up to their necks making arrests while trying to locate the Technocrats and Long-Timers responsible for the drug trade. Borders have been flooding into the grids to help manage the mayhem, but it’s a lot to handle all at once.

  The worst is happening in our very own grid of Richmond. Upon hearing the news, we quickly hastened transit off the island and to the nearest train depot. Noah’s in a mad rush to get back home to protect his parents.

  It will be a while before order can be reestablished. And I’m hearing whispers that if things don’t settled down soon, the military will step in. The Borders knew it wasn’t going to be pretty, but the system was broken and needed to be removed. And from the destruction will rise a new era. That’s
the hope anyway.

  “I’m surprised the trains are still running,” Noah says, breaking into my wandering thoughts.

  I’m holding his hand so tightly, my fingers are stiff and slightly numb. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I don’t want to leave. But I know you’ll be fine down here with Emily and Hudson. My parents need me.”

  “I know,” I whisper, resting my head on his shoulder.

  Noah kisses the top of my head in a way that promises he’ll be back. The hissing and chugging train comes barreling down the tracks and screeches to a halt. Noah stands up and hands me my crutch. It’s only now that I remember the wound in my leg, and the throbbing pain returns. Sitting with Noah I had almost forgotten my pain—both physical and emotional. When he leaves, I’ll have to sit with my sorrow. Feel the loss of my father. Of Achilles dying in my arms. Rehash the grief of losing my mother.

  I’m an orphan now.

  Noah lifts my chin and smiles tenderly as though he can read my thoughts. “You’re gonna be just fine, Kalliste.”

  I let him assist me up. “I know. Just be careful. And if you have a chance, check on Knack for me. Maybe get him to come with you when you come back.”

  Hobbling next to Noah, he stops and leans down to kiss me goodbye. It’s like every other kiss with him. I’m lost for a brief moment, spinning into the endless electrifying bliss. His strong hands hold my waist, locking me close to him. And it’s a beautiful moment, until my crutch thumps to the ground and the train’s whistle screams out.

  “It’s time to go,” I tell him.

  “Stay in Jones until I get back, please,” he says.

  “I’ll go where they need me.”

  “Just keep me posted. I don’t want to lose you, okay?”

  I nod and adjust the crutch under my arm, holding back any silly tears that will only make this goodbye more painful. And like that, Noah steps onto the train. I watch until I can no longer see the trail of smoke or hear the wheels thrumming against the metal rails.

  *

  Sitting next to Harper’s bed, I tell her everything that happened from Roman turning on us to me jumping out of a helicopter. I explain what happened in the woods with my father and how I had to shoot my brother. She cringes when I tell her how I got access to the server room. And that’s when all of it hits me. All of the loss. And my tears must be contagious because Harper starts getting choked up and all teary-eyed. We’re crying and blowing our noses in unison, and something about this makes us start laughing. We’re not alone. We have each other to pull through the sadness.

  “Good to see you’re both feeling better,” Hudson enters and starts looking at Harper’s leg.

  I slowly pull myself to standing to show him I’m doing just fine. It’s only been a couple of days, but my leg is healing nicely. “I’m almost at full capacity,” I inform him.

  “Give it another week just to be safe. But you,” he pauses, looking at Harper. “You’re staying put for a while. That muscle damage is pretty severe.”

  “I feel bad sitting in bed doing nothing,” Harper protests.

  The door creaks open, and Leo—who we assumed was attacked—pokes his head into the room. His typical stern appearance has softened, and he even sports a slight grin. “I’ll have stuff for you to do,” he says, walking over to Harper. His clothes are torn and filthy, and his arms are layered with cuts and dried blood.

  “Leo!” Harper sings out. “When we couldn’t make contact, we thought we lost you.”

  “You almost did. They demolished the safe house, but I got out in time. Obviously. Hudson told me about Johnson. I’m sorry.” He pats Harper’s shoulder in a formal manner. She yanks him down and pulls him in for a big old hug.

  Leo looks over at me. “Where’s Noah?”

  “Went back to Richmond to make sure his folks are safe. He’s coming back though.”

  The stark look in Leo’s eyes says something different. “It’s rough out there.”

  “He’ll be okay,” I assure him.

  “Leo, I need you to do something for me,” Harper says.

  He sits in the chair I was using. “Anything.”

  “Johnson’s body is still out there in the woods. We need to have a proper burial.”

  Leo slowly nods, understanding.

  “I’ll go with you,” I say.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Hudson cuts in.

  “I’m the only one who knows where his body is. I’ve already had to leave my father’s body on that God forsaken island. Let me at least do this.”

  Hudson shrugs me off, knowing he lacks the proper skills to sway my decision. Then he says, “Just get back here in one piece. Emily’s gonna need help out there with the wounded. Noah said you’re good with your hands.”

  “Of course.”

  I don’t tell him that I can’t wait to get out there to assist Emily. I’m afraid if I say another word I’ll start crying. I need to get busy and keep my mind focused on moving forward. I can’t go backward to a past that no longer exists. My family is gone. But the future is full of endless possibilities—just like the promise in Noah’s kisses. Time is on our side. And we are free to spend it however we decide. I will do my best to spend it wisely. Or at least with purpose. Now that I have one.

  ***

  Author’s Note

  If you’d like to be notified when Simone Pond’s next novel is released and get chances to win free books and other fun swag, sign the mailing list at:

  http://eepurl.com/CW_-5

  Your email address will never be shared. You can unsubscribe at any time.

  Word of mouth and reviews are vital for any author to succeed. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon and Goodreads.

  Thank you for reading my book. I truly appreciate your support!

  The New Agenda - Dystopian Series

  The City Center: The New Agenda Series Book 1

  The Mainframe: The New Agenda Series Book 2

  The Torrent: The New Agenda Series Book 3

  The New Agenda: Prequel to The City Center

  Voices of the Apocalypse: Short Story Collection

  The Armor of Magic - Urban Fantasy Series

  Sacred Light: Armor of Magic Series Book 1

  Rising Light: Armor of Magic Series Book 2

  Edge of Light: Armor of Magic Series Book 3

  simonepond.com