Supernova

by Mia Rodriguez

Chapter 37: The Reward

  “Peter?” asks Donny, dismayed. “What is he doing?”

  Royce slumps in the wingchair and puts his face in his hands. “No! No—it can’t be happening!”

  “What is it?!”

  “I can’t . . . I can’t talk about it,” Royce mumbles.

  “Peter’s turning Royce in to the government!” I blurt.

  Donny shakes his head with fury. His blond spikes bounce. “That’s impossible—not Peter.”

  “It’s true,” I tell him.

  “No!—not Peter. He isn’t a traitor!”

  “Don’t yell at her—it’s true,” Royce asserts, his voice almost as shaky as when I had fallen off the tree.

  “Royce, we have to do something,” I plead.

  “I can’t think . . . I can’t—“

  “Will someone explain to me what’s going on?” roars Donny.

  “You know that your cousin can see snippets into people’s lives, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “I have a similar ability. We saw Peter at the United World’s main headquarters. He’s sitting in a room by himself, waiting to speak to a head guardian. He’s going to make up some story about Royce and me being star crossed and having run away with each other to the woods.”

  “He wouldn’t do that!”

  “He is doing that,” snaps Royce.

  “We have to do something,” I utter, my voice in a high pitch.

  Royce’s breathing is ragged. “I can’t—”

  I bend down, placing my face directly in front of his. “Listen to me, Royce,” I whisper urgently, “I know how devastating this is, but we can’t afford to freak out—the resistance is at stake.”

  His words had worked on me when we were on the jeep, and I had just discovered he was Arthur. They had to work now.

  “My vision didn’t tell me what to do. I assume this is up to you and not me,” I continue, catching my hurried breath.

  His eyes focus on me, and he pulls my lips to his, pecking them gently. “I can’t let anything happen to you.” he expresses.

  “What’ll we do?” Donny desperately asks, looking as if he’s finally coming to terms with what’s occurring.

  “Give me your cell,” demands Royce, out of his stupor.

  Donny’s hand plunges into his pocket and pulls out a small, gray phone. Royce immediately grabs it and starts punching numbers into it.

  “The tiger and I are fine. We’re at point four, but the chicken has flown the coop,” Royce barks into the phone. “He’s about to get in league with the fox unless you do something.”

  If I understood the coded message correctly, the tiger is me and Peter is the chicken.

  After listening to what the other person on the other end quickly says, Royce hangs up. His face is a little less constrained than before he made the call.

  “Constanza said she’d take care of it,” he tells me.

  “How is she going to do that with Peter already at headquarters?” I ask. “Can she get to him on time?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  “How’s that?” I ask.

  “The memory pill?” asks Donny.

  Royce nods. “Yep.”

  “I had forgotten about it,” comments Donny, relief in his voice.

  “So had I until Nova shook me out of my paralyses.”

  “What’s the memory pill? “I question, curiosity about to gnaw a hole in me.

  “Our scientists invented a tiny device that looks like a pill. Every Freedom Warrior has one implanted in the head. Constanza and certain people at our headquarters can activate it.”

  “What does it do?” I ask.

  “Erase your memory.”

  “Erase all your memory?”

  “Yes, except for some basic stuff. Peter won’t remember anything to do with our mission or anything to do with you.”

  “What a relief,” I state, feeling the tight tension leaving my body.

  “Let me check on him and make sure Constanza activated the memory pill before he spoke to anyone.” Royce’s eyes glass over again. Donny and I wait impatiently for the verdict. “Done!” he exclaims, returning to our reality.

  “We’re saved!” gushes Donny.

  Royce abruptly stands up and grabs my hands, his skin still clammy from the tragedy we had just averted. “Sorry.”

  Puzzled, I took into his grave eyes. “For what?”

  “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. I’m the one always telling you that we need to keep our heads calm and alert.”

  “I don’t expect you to be perfect, Royce, even though you almost are. I expect you to make mistakes once in a while—we’re only human.”

  “I can’t afford to make mistakes—not with you.”

  I smile at his eager face. “We’ll just have to be there for each other and catch one another when we mess up.”

  “That sounds like a good plan to me,” states Donny, chuckling.

  “It’s a stroke of luck that your boss gave you a cell, so he could contact you,” Royce mentions.

  Donny nods frustratingly. “Yeah, so he could have me at his beck and call, especially with his getaway here.”

  “It saved us though—even when I choked.”

  Holding Royce’s hands gently, they start warming up in mine, “I understand that you kept it together when bears, strange people, and tornadoes were chasing us, but this thing with your cousin devastated you.”

  “It threw me off too,” blurts Donny, his voice cracking.

  “I still can’t believe he’d do something like this,” Royce grumbles.

  “At least he wasn’t going to spill the beans about the Freedom Warriors or get you in super trouble by saying you abducted me,” I offer.

  “How kind of him,” Royce retorts.

  Donny’s face scrunches up. “Do you think he betrayed you because of greed?”

  “Greed?” I ask.

  “Do you think the money tempted him?”

  “What money?” I ask.

  “You’re Madrigal X1147, right?”

  “Donny,” warns Royce.

  “I know you’ve told me that she’s Nova. She’s probably not supposed to tell anybody who she is, but I’ve put two and two together.”

  “You’re just too smart for your own good,” Royce says dryly.

  “Does anyone other than Donny and me know who you really are, Supernova?”

  “Now with Peter’s memory being gone, just the Freedom Warriors at the cave know about me.”

  “Good.”

  “The only other one who suspected it is dead,” explains Royce.

  “The colonel,” I murmur.

  “I’m glad no one knows because the reward for you went from 100,000 to one million!”

  “One million dollars?” I mutter, gulping hard.

  “Oh yeah.”

  Royce frowns unhappily. “They must be desperate to find you.”

  “Do you think that’s why Peter was turning her in?” Donny asks.

  “Maybe, but I think it was mostly his pride.”

  “His pride?”

  “He was upset that he couldn’t finish the mission with us. He kept ignoring my orders and then he fell into a bear trap. We had to leave him at a homestead to heal. I guess he couldn’t take being left behind and also . . .” Royce eyes me carefully.

  “Also what?” Donny asks anxiously.

  “He has a thing for Madrigal. Maybe he thinks he can have a second chance with her if he gets her home.”

  “Peter, how could you do this to us?” questions Donny, speaking to the air.

  Royce nods angrily. “Yeah, how could you?”

  “We’ve got so much against us,” I sigh.

  “We’re going to have to act faster than I thought, Royce.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “With a million dollar bounty on your head, Supernova, we’re going to have to get you to our headquarters ASAP—there’s no
time to waste!”

  “ASAP?”

  Donny nods energetically. “By the way, soldiers are going to start combing the woods tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” asks Royce, his voice tight.

  “Tomorrow,” affirms Donny. “That’s why I was praying that you two would be here today.”

  “We’re lucky that our government’s arrogance in thinking you couldn’t go far in a police state kept things at bay, Madrigal,” Royce says dryly. “They didn’t fill the woods with soldiers sooner because of it.”

  “They didn’t comb the woods earlier because they didn’t want people to see that something was out of their control. Now with what’s happened, they don’t have a choice,” explains Donny.

  “What happened?” I gulp.

  “The spy cameras or the safety monitors, as they call them, were supposed to start working this week according to my boss.”

  “What happened to them?” Royce questions.

  “They didn’t work,” Donny guffaws.

  A grin spreads across Royce’s lips. “Our scientists must’ve found a way to stop them.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You think you can get us out of here before tomorrow, Donny?” Royce inquires.

  “My boss has been wanting me to deliver some furniture to him in Region 3. I’ve been doing all kinds of things to delay it, hoping you’d get here. Frankly, I don’t think I could’ve held my boss off for much longer. He’s a real jerk, but now we can go.”

  “We can?” I utter, excited about finally seeing the light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

  “We’ll leave tonight when it gets dark. That’ll give you a chance to get out of here without anyone seeing you.”

  After our huge meal of ham with potato salad, Donny leaves to make the final arrangements. The unaccustomed, odd fullness in my stomach causes a small discomfort but one I can live with after all the sharp hunger pangs during this expedition. Deena smiles sweetly as both Royce and I thank her profusely for the food.

  “Hopefully we’ll be able to return the favor someday,” Royce tells her.

  “You don’t owe me any gratitude,” Deena announces. “Not when you’re part of the resistance and fighting for democracy.”

  The dedication and commitment of so many people I’ve met on this journey inspires me. It’s a bright light during a dark storm.

  As Deena, Royce, and I wait for Donny, we tidy up the place so it looks exactly like we found it. We aren’t about to leave any loose ends no matter how small they may be. Deena informs us she’ll wash the clothes that Royce and I used. When Donny finally returns, his grin stretches from ear to ear.

  “Everything is set,” he states. “The truck has been loaded with my boss’s antique furniture.”

  “Ready?” Royce asks me.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Let’s go then,” Donny announces. “Follow me.”

  Royce frowns, his mouth a tight line. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “What do you mean?” Donny asks, perplexed.

  “You have to meet us there, Donny.”

  “Why?” Donny’s eyebrows knit together.

  “Several reasons,” explains Royce. “For one, if Nova and I get caught, I don’t want you mixed up in this and—”

  Donny shakes his head. “We’re not going to get caught!”

  “Also, you need to be there before we are in case you need to deflect attention from us.”

  “Oh,” Donny utters.

  “You do see the strategy in that, don’t you?”

  Donny nods quietly. “I see what you mean.”

  Drawing a detailed map to the warehouse, Donny makes certain Royce can easily follow it. Royce calmly nods at him with perfect understanding of where we’re supposed to go, what roads to take, and how to get there without being seen. Before leaving, Donny clasps his wife in a long, strong embrace.

  “Please, please take care of yourself,” she pleads, her shiny blue eyes streaming with water.

  “I will.”

  “Don’t let anything happen to you.”

  “It won’t,” he asserts.

  After he rips himself away from her and leaves, Deena stares disconcertedly after him. I mildly pat her back, not knowing what to do or say. Being an emotional cripple has its enormous disadvantages. Her husband is risking his life to protect us, and I can’t find the words to console her. Maybe there are none. It’s no use trying to fool her into thinking our mission isn’t dangerous. She knows perfectly well that it is.

  The silence that sits on us threatens to suffocate me. Even though Deena is weeping, she isn’t making a single sound. Royce and I are supposed to wait it out for a specific amount of time before leaving. It’ll be a long twenty minutes.

  “Deena,” Royce speaks softly, breaking the loud quiet, “he’ll come back to you.”

  “Sure about that?” Her words are clipped and barely audible.

  “I’ll do everything I can so that he does, okay?”

  “Okay,” she mumbles.

  When the twenty minutes finally pass, Royce eyes me somberly. “It’s time to go,” he mutters.

  “Let’s go,” I utter softly.

  After grabbing our backpacks, Royce and I step over to Deena. His strong arms go around her in a warm embrace. As my turn comes up, I’m about to hug her when she starts bowing to me.

  “No,” I tell her, motioning her to straighten her body.

  “Supernova—”

  “Forget that,” I blurt, “I’m so imperfect, Deena. I’ll never accept being worshipped. We’re in this fight together! Don’t ever give me your blind allegiance or to any other human being—we’re too flawed—give your loyalty to the cause.”

  I embrace her, and she embraces me back. Along with the others I’ve met on this arduous journey, I feel my circle of family is increasing. I’m astounded when I realize that only a few short weeks ago I was limited to a fake life surrounding me.

  “I’m proud of you,” Royce whispers to me when we climb up the ladder and hit the outdoors.

  I’m well aware of the routine as we head to our destination, making as little noise as possible and listening for all sounds. The full moon lights our way, making our steps go easier. The forest drips quietly, still wet from the storm the night before and the light showers today. I wince painfully when we make it back to the road where Royce and I had jumped out of the jeep. The lifesaving ditch has water draining from it like a mini-river. Trees and other foliage lay lonely on the ground, uprooted from their homes in the dirt. They had been in the tornado’s destructive path.

  When we arrive at an immense, gray warehouse located by itself in a clearing in the woods, Royce squeezes my hand. We made it here without a single problem. As we survey the place, we don’t see anyone. Several semi-trucks seem to be waiting outside for their drivers.

  “We’re traveling in one of those?” I whisper to Royce.

  He nods.

  I had thought we’d be traveling in a much smaller vehicle—a moving truck. As Royce stealthily leads me to the one we’re getting on, we take extra care with our movements since flood lighting throws partial light over the area. Suddenly, voices echo from the opening of the front of the warehouse as people are stepping out of it.

  “Hurry,” Royce whispers.

  We climb up through the back of the open 18 wheeler. The antiques are already carefully placed. Our feet move as quietly as possible over the wood bottom and past the expensive, dark cherry-brown furniture. Royce carefully leads me to the back where we hide under a bulky desk with filing cabinets in front of it.

  “Did you hear that?” asks a male voice, coming from the front of the warehouse.

  “Hear what?” asks Donny.

  “I thought I heard a noise.”

  “We’re in the middle of Timbuktu—it was probably a raccoon or something.”

  “I guess so.”

  “With that tornado yesterd
ay, everything in the woods is discombobulated, don’t you think, Shane?” asks Donny.

  “Yeah. It was scary last night.”

  “We’re lucky that the cyclone didn’t destroy the warehouse or any of our trucks.”

  “It hardly did any damage except for those two soldiers.”

  “Yeah, that was a shame.”

  The ringing of a cell phone blares through the air, an awkward noise in the middle of the wild woods. Shane promptly answers it.

  “Bad news!” he tells Donny as soon as he hangs up. “Looks like there’s another storm coming. You won’t be able to leave tonight.”