Uprising

by Justin Kemppainen

  Chapter 34: Modified Motivations

  The only thing Kaylee found more disconcerting than Malcolm's ominous and silent stare was its complete absence. For the last couple of days, he had been practically glued to her hip, following her around everywhere and watching every single move she made. Given any danger, he would react with immediate and instinctive action to protect her. Each time it happened she had to talk him down from hurting someone, like the soldier of a few days ago, but it had given her a glimmer of hope that she'd make it out of all of this alive with someone so powerful dedicated to keeping her safe.

  Now, however, it didn't even seem like he was paying any attention. She'd move on to talk to someone else or figure out some other details, and it would take him between several seconds and a couple of minutes to notice and follow behind. Instead of watching her carefully, she noticed he spent a great deal of time staring off into the distance in a direction towards Purgatory, as though he had forgotten something important.

  Unfortunately, she was too busy assisting with the coordination of the non-fighting refugees. She would have liked to talk to him, but there would have been an interruption every three seconds. She kept getting scattered communications from Rick, who sounded continually more tense each time he contacted.

  "No goddammit, south! South!" he had yelled to someone else.

  "What was that about?" she had asked through the radio.

  A sigh crackled through the transmitter. "Some of Matthias' families thought our primary exit point was actually the elevator. Good God, do we really want to face a firing squad right away when we arrive? I was hoping that we'd at least get to see some grass and a little sunlight before we get executed, but no, of course that'd be too nice…" the tangent continued for a while longer; Rick tended to rant when upset.

  If it wasn't Rick asking for numbers updates and whether or not they'd gotten people in line to be ready to start moving them, it was Desmond asking the same questions.

  "I don't know; I'm not in charge," she told him for the fifth or so time as he scurried back and forth, checking on various people he knew and trying to discover exactly what was going on. It was mid-afternoon, and the group led by Olivia, according to Desmond's repeated statements, would be arriving soon. He seemed very restless, and considering the circumstances of a big situational change, it was understandable. It still got on Kaylee's nerves.

  "Will you sit still?" she finally snapped at him.

  Desmond stopped pacing, looked up at her, and gave a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, Miss Kaylee. We've never had to move all of the children before."

  The older man's lined face and gray hair was indication enough for Kaylee, but Desmond's entire body made it appear as though he was suffering through a deep-set weariness. Not quite like Quinton; even though the man was much older than Desmond, and although Kaylee only saw him for a moment, he moved with an upright stiffness, purpose, and energy that suggested a much younger man. Then again, Quinton hadn't been taking care of children at all hours for numerous years.

  "They'd just be terrified of him anyway," she muttered to no one in particular.

  "I beg your pardon?" Desmond asked her with an inquisitive look.

  She shook her head. "Nothing, never mind."

  Desmond checked his watch again, "Sure, okay." He leaned up against the wall again next to Kaylee and closed his eyes. Kaylee had her arms folded and looked back and forth. Various groups of individuals and small groups milled around, most of them asking questions every few minutes. Kaylee, for the most part, kept a stern glare on her face to discourage anyone from talking to her.

  The few soldiers assigned to this escorting detail didn't look much happier than she did, but it still didn't stop a few of the less-timid people from asking the same questions over and over. Half of the questions included some bit of, "What the heck is that thing?" referring to Malcolm. No one could really answer, and no one had been brave enough to ask him directly, not that he would have given much of a response.

  Eventually, she got sick of it. In a loud voice she called out, "Okay, everyone: shut up! Wait quietly, and in a few hours, we'll make more announcements. Then, we'll start evacuating. So stop asking-"

  "When are we going?" a voice called out.

  Kaylee yelled, "Shut up! For God's sake stop asking! We'll tell you as soon as we hear something!"

  Among the small crowds came a small din of what sounded like grumbling. Kaylee sighed and whispered to Desmond, "I'm going to go inside and check things out."

  "What things?" Desmond whispered back.

  "Their progress," she replied.

  "What are you talking about?" he asked, confused.

  "Wait, you don't know?"

  "No," he said, with a bewildered look. "That's why I kept asking."

  Kaylee slapped her head with the heel of her hand. "Oh good lord, sorry. I thought you were just being annoying. Here," she motioned to him, "follow me."

  They were keeping plans quiet until they had enough soldiers present and systems worked out to clear everyone out efficiently. Rick expressed a concern that, given information about an exit and an impending, horrific attack, the civilians and noncombatants would be driven into a panic. Even without consideration of the injuries dozens of people would receive trying to rush through the opening, running blindly into enemy territory could be brutal.

  "It could easily get everyone there killed," he had said. "I want them to go unnoticed for as long as possible until we have the Citizen forces distracted. That means you don't move out of there unless there's a helluva lot of running, panicking, screaming Citizens. No questions and no arguments," he had said forcefully. "Tell the civilians whatever you have to or don't say anything at all; keep them under control."

  Kaylee thought it best they be kept in the dark for the time being; it was safer that way. As she led Desmond up several flights of stairs, she filled in some of the blanks for him.

  "Yes," he said, irritated, "I already know about the hole and why we're keeping it quiet. I just don't know what's going on right now."

  "Well, okay then, sorry about that. I'll show you what's happening."

  They arrived in the apartment Kaylee had been to hours earlier. She could see a few soldiers from various factions crammed into the bathroom. They were wielding various tools and equipment.

  Desmond immediately nodded. "I see; they're widening the hole."

  "That's right. It's still going to be several hours yet before we head up, so we might as well make it easier for when the time comes."

  Desmond nodded again. "Wait until night to have a lesser chance at discovery."

  "Exactly." She asked the people working, "How's it going in there?"

  A harsh, female voice with a slight Russian lilt called from inside the bathroom through the opening, "Who is that? Who is there?"

  "It's Kaylee," she replied.

  Without warning the three working in the bathroom scrambled to the side as someone dropped down on top of them: a thin, blond woman with grime and soot covering her face and arms. "You little lying bitch. I should gut you for what you did to us!" Tanya spat.

  Desmond's eyes went wide, and he looked at Kaylee, who merely smirked at the other woman. "I couldn't just tell you how to get in, could I?"

  "We were taken prisoner!" Tanya yelled, brandishing a hammer she held.

  "If it weren't for me, you'd both have been shot dead!"

  "Says you, we-"

  "Would also have never found anything," Kaylee cut her off.

  Desmond said nothing, taking a few steps away from Kaylee and looking back and forth between the two women glaring at each other.

  All at once, the tension in Tanya's body ceased. "Tch. Whatever," she said dismissively.

  Slowly, Kaylee also relaxed. She kept on edge, remembering how quickly the other woman was able to spring an attack. The other men in the bathroom had returned to a semblance of work, glancing over occasionally to see if anything was happening. Tanya wiped sweat from
her face.

  "Fine. What do you want?" Tanya demanded.

  "I'm checking your progress and showing him," she pointed at Desmond, who cringed slightly as Tanya shot him an intense gaze, "what's going on up here."

  "Go away. We are very busy, and interruptions are not making the work go any more quickly," Tanya said with a scowl.

  "Tanya!" a hushed voice came from the bathroom, and Kaylee could see the head of Eugene poking downward through the widened opening. "Keep your voice down, I can hear you from the living room upstairs!"

  "Don't you speak to me that way, Eugene!" Tanya shot back in a hiss. "I do not need to listen to the words of weak little children!"

  "For the last time," Eugene whispered, face turning red from being upside down, "the two of us were selected. I did not volunteer-"

  "You still didn't want to fight!" she replied.

  "So what?"

  "It means-"

  Before Tanya could continue emasculating Eugene any further, Kaylee cut into the conversation. "Look!" she yelled, eliciting harsh shushing and glares from the arguing Russians. "Look," she said more quietly, "just tell me how long until everything is ready."

  Eugene's head disappeared from sight, and a moment later he dropped down and shouldered his way through the other men, who Kaylee noticed were using screwdrivers to install strips of wood for hand and footholds. Tedious work, but quiet enough, Kaylee thought.

  Eugene wiped his hands on his pants and offered his hand, "Hello, Kaylee. It is good to see you again," she opened her mouth to introduce her companion, but apparently they had already met, "and you, Desmond." They shook hands, and Desmond stepped back, still eyeing the hostile figure of Tanya.

  "Hey Eugene, I hope Elijah wasn't too rough on you before," Kaylee said.

  He waved his hand, shaking his head. "Of course not. It was well worth it." He gestured around. "All of this: the unity we share."

  Tanya folded her arms and scowled but said nothing. Kaylee nodded, "I guess, but still…"

  "Bah, I'm not that old. I can stand a little rough treatment," he said, puffing his chest out slightly.

  Tanya made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes, and his shoulders slumped. "Anyway…" Kaylee said, switching the subject, "progress?"

  "Good," he said. "Excellent, actually. We are clearing out spaces for people to be in the upstairs, and we're keeping as close an eye as we can on other possible places to put more people if it becomes necessary. We will be ready when the time comes."

  "Good," Kaylee said, "make sure you try and give some of your men some time to sleep," she told him, repeating instructions from Rick. "There's a good chance that this will be quite a long night."

  "Yes, I will do that." He turned towards Tanya, who hadn't budged, "What is this?" he exclaimed as softly as he could. "Why are you not working?" Tanya's eyes widened with shock, and fury seeped into her expression. She opened her mouth, but he cut her off. "No! Don't make excuses, get back up there!" He pointed to the hole.

  Tanya made an angry, frustrated noise and whirled around, shoving through the other workers and jumping upwards. She grabbed the edges of the hole and pulled herself through.

  Eugene turned back towards Kaylee, smiling, "I know I will pay for that, but sometimes it is too hard to resist," he whispered.

  Kaylee stifled a laugh and shook Eugene's hand once more. She looked at Desmond and jerked her head towards the door. He followed behind, checking his watch.

  "Olivia should be here soon," he said.

  Kaylee replied, "We can go downstairs and see." As he followed her, she kept glancing backwards, expecting to see Malcolm trailing behind, but he hadn't even come along in the first place. She wondered why he had become so distant.