Chapter 33: The Weather
“If you don’t want me to shoot her,” the colonel tells Royce, “then let my worthless soldier go.”
Royce’s eyes travel from the colonel to the weapon pointed at my head. He gets on his feet, away from where he had the private in a headlock.
“Good boy,” chuckles the colonel.
The private stumbles up, muttering furiously under his breath. Trying to punch Royce, he’s stopped by Royce’s fast hand.
“This isn’t over yet,” the private snaps.
“Stop rambling and get your weapon, soldier,” demands the colonel.
He strides towards his military rifle, sneering when he passes me. I return his scowl. He’s furious. Royce gives him a warning look.
“I’ll shoot you!” the private shouts at Royce when he snatches his military rifle off the ground. “Let’s see how brave you are with my weapon in your face!”
“You’re not shooting anybody unless I tell you to—do you have that straight?!” the colonel snaps.
“It’s just that—”
“Stop your whining!”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s not his fault you’re such a worthless soldier. The guy disabled you just like that. Maybe I should leave you and take him with me.”
“Sir, I did find him and his girlfriend.”
“Find them?” the colonel retorts. “You didn’t find them! This is where I left you, so you wouldn’t mess up my search anymore. I’m sure they just walked in your path. You couldn’t find a cube of ice in an icemaker!”
“Sir—”
““I was right,” he says more to himself than to anyone. His voice is self-righteous and pleased. “It occurred to me that there’s an enclave of others close to here that you may be heading toward,” he informs us.
“We’re just hunting,” states Royce.
“Yeah, hunting without rifles,” the private guffaws.
“I’ve already told you—we don’t hunt with rifles. We can’t. We don’t have any, so we do what we can.”
The colonel eyes us suspiciously. “You’re the ones who almost cracked my son’s head open, right?”
“Why would we do something like that?”
“They’re hiding something—I just know it!” exclaims the private.
The colonel’s eyes sit heavily on me with an intense glare. I turn my face, but his unwavering sight stays on me.
“What would we be hiding?” Royce asks innocently.
“Her,” the colonel says simply as he motions towards me.
The private throws a puzzled glance at me. “Her?”
“I’ve got a good eye for faces.”
“You know this girl, sir?” the private asks, surprised.
“She’s been all over the news.”
The private’s eyebrows come together. “The news?”
“Missy, you’re very clever in changing your look. Most people wouldn’t be able to put you together with the picture in the news, but I’m not just anybody.”
“I don’t understand, colonel.”
“Stupid Head, this is Madrigal X1147.”
The private gasps loudly. “It can’t be, sir. They don’t look anything alike.”
“Oh, it’s her,” the colonel assures. “It’s her all right!”
And just like that—my cover is busted wide open.
While the colonel takes us to the jeep at gunpoint, Royce tries to convince him that I’m not the person in the news. Royce uses as many persuasive arguments as he can, but the colonel won’t budge. When Royce is unable to convince him, I try my own influence.
“My name is Nova—not this Madrigal you’re talking about,” I state, making sure my voice is steady and self-assured like Royce’s always sounds.
“I just bet it is.”
“Colonel, “ I continue, “I don’t know why you’d think I’m her. I don’t look anything, not even a little bit like her.”
“Missy, you don’t fool me.”
“That girl is probably long gone. Maybe even dead.”
“That girl is here.”
“But—”
“You’re worth a lot of money, missy. They’re offering $100,000 for you.”
I’m astounded. The government is now offering money for me. That’s bad—very bad.
“Colonel, you don’t want to make a fool out of yourself by taking in the wrong person. I—”
“You’re Madrigal X1147. Stop lying about it,” he snaps furiously.
Nothing I say deviates him from his plan. Instead, after arriving at the green military jeep, he tapes Royce’s and my mouths shut.
“I’m tired of your yammering!” he exclaims.
The colonel then forces us to the back of the open vehicle. After haranguing the private for not having brought enough rope to properly tie us up, only our hands are bound, he makes him guard over us from the passenger’s seat. The private’s torso twists towards us, keeping his eyes and weapon glued to our forms to make certain we don’t try to escape.
It seems hopeless.
But I’m not going to accept it.
Instead, I wait for a vision. Something will come up. I’m sure of it.
I glance at Royce who motions me with his eyes to look up. With no roof on the jeep, my sight is able to shoot to the sky. Something severe is happening. The weather is changing. Clouds are turning pitch black, and the wind is picking up. It’s starting to howl in the woods.
I don’t know if this is good or bad, but we’re in this for better or worse.
A few miles down the dirt road, the wind is now so ferocious that the jeep trembles and pulls in different directions. The private seems jittery and nervous. The guy is frightened of raccoons after all. Being out on an evening like this one has to be excruciating for someone like him
“I LOVE THIS WEATHER!” loudly chirps the colonel, in a much better mood than I had seen him.
“You do, sir?” the private asks, his voice shaky and small.
“SPEAK UP, STUPID HEAD! I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”
The crashing wind barely allows for any other sound.
“YOU REALLY LIKE THIS WEATHER, SIR?” the private says at the top of his lungs.
“DON’T YOU?!”
“NO, NOT REALLY, SIR.”
“YOU’RE SUCH A WUSS, PRIVATE! I REALLY DON’T KNOW HOW YOU GOT IN THE MILITARY!”
Meanwhile, tall trees and shrubbery bend with the unforgiving force of the furious wind—havoc and destruction at its beck and call. The jeep lurches violently to the sides, having trouble staying on the road. Lightning starts flashing through the sky, and the vociferous thunder that goes with it comes bearing down all around us. A torrential amount of rain is probably on the way.
I brace myself with the freezing needles of piercing air being shot into my skin. The heat of earlier in the day gave way to an icy cold fueled by the violence of the wind. It occurs to me that the jeep could actually turn over and with both Royce and me tied up, who knows what will happen to us.
A bolt of heavy lightning slams into the stretch of road we had just left seconds ago.
The colonel throws out a raucous and gregarious laugh. “I REALLY, REALLY LOVE THIS WEATHER!”
He’s crazy! Those soldiers at the start of our journey, when I had disabled his son, were right about him. A real psycho colonel!
“SIR, MAYBE WE SHOULD STOP AND FIND SHELTER!”
“ARE YOU TELLING ME WHAT TO DO, STUPID HEAD?!”
“NO, SIR, BUT IT SEEMS DANGEROUS TO BE TRAVELING LIKE THIS!”
“WE’RE SOLDIERS, STUPID! WE LAUGH AT DANGER!”
Judging by the consternation on the private’s face, laughter is the last emotion he’s thinking about right now.
I turn to Royce. His concerned eyes stare into me. The weather, the thunder, the psycho colonel, and even the private’s shaky hold on the military rifle—take your pick--we could die at the whims of any of them.
“SIR, PLEAS
E LET’S GET OFF THE ROAD!”
“PRIVATE—”
“PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU!”
“YOU’RE A DISGRACE TO YOUR UNIFORM! SOLDIER’S DON’T BEG!”
“PLEASE!”
“STOP BEGGING!”
“PLEASE, PLEASE STOP THIS STUPID THING!”
“YOU’RE IN DEEP TROUBLE, SOLDIER!”
“COURT MARSHALL ME IF YOU WANT—JUST STOP THIS DEATH TRAP AND LET ME OUT!”
“GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF!” the colonel orders, slapping the private on the head. The weapon slips out of his hands and crashes to the road where the jeep runs over it.
“LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID, STUPID HEAD!”
“COLONEL, I—”
“SAVE YOUR EXCUSES! GET MY WEAPON ASAP.”
As he’s about to grab the colonel’s weapon next to him, he stops abruptly. He sees what we see.
A huge swirling tornado is coming towards us.
Supernova Page 31
