by Doug Felton
Josh opened the door to the chapel, gun ready, and surveyed the area. “All clear.”
They moved out in a tight group, Raisa and Penly, in the middle of the pack. Fifty feet out, they came across the team they’d just fought, all lying motionless. Except one. The spot where Penly dropped the man she’d fought was bare.
“Where is he?” she asked. We killed him and left him here.
Everyone had their weapons up, sweeping the trees with their eyes.
“We’re playing by a new set of rules,” Alexander said. “We can’t take anything for granted. Let’s keep moving.”
Passing to the north of Linden Cabin, they saw the door standing open. Josh did a quick check and proclaimed it clear. Ahead of them, Laurel Lodge still smoldered. This was the first time Raisa had seen it, and it was a total loss. Past the lodge was a wooded area that stretched for several hundred yards until they came to the fence. It was large and menacing for a fence, especially if one thought it was electrified.
Penly tested the fence with a quick touch; the current had been cut. Determining it was safe, she ripped the heavy metal mesh as if it were fabric.
“I gotta get me some of that,” Kaufman said.
That’s what I am afraid of, Raisa thought. Once the Ten Thousand realize what’s possible, they will all want it, and then what will happen?
Josh stood at the fence, holding it back while the others passed through. As Raisa passed him, she saw alarm register in his eyes at something behind her. He hurriedly pushed her through, and the other side, she turned to see the man Penly had fought, standing a hundred feet back. He looked unsteady on his feet, and his neck was bent at an odd angle, but he held an automatic weapon in his hands.
It was aimed at Alexander’s back.
Chapter Twenty-One
October 2079 — Six Months Later
Zeke could hear the buzz of the audience building from his dressing room, thirty minutes before the concert. He was energized by the sound, which gave him the final shot of adrenaline for the show. There was no opening act on this tour. Since he acquired his superhuman abilities, Zeke had the stamina to do a three-hour show for as many nights as needed. His band didn’t, so they worked in shifts, switching out between sets with backstage replacements. It cost him to double up on the band, but he didn’t have to pay an opening act, so it evened out. He’d make more than enough money, between ticket sales and merchandise, to cover his cost and pocket a handsome profit.
On this tour, Zeke had gone out of his way to make his political views known. Up to then, he’d kept them to himself, not wanting to alienate any segment of his audience, but he had a bigger agenda now. Zeke had discovered ten thousand other immortals just like him, and he intended to use them to catapult himself to greatness. To do that, he had to join the political landscape, and to do that, he’d come out as a strong supporter of Queen Raisa. She was immensely popular for the time being, so she would be his ticket to political exposure. He even printed “I Support Queen Raisa” t-shirts and composed a song praising the ideals of the New World. The people ate it up, and the press started asking him about his political views in interviews. He was more than happy to explain the advantages of a monarchy and praise the young queen. For Zeke, it was the price he paid to get his foot in the political door and create the persona of a civic-minded citizen.
A knock at his dressing room door drew Zeke’s attention away from his show prep.
“Yes.”
“Mr. Wellington, he’s here,” an aide said.
“Send him in.”
The aid opened the door, and Nigel Barrymore entered the room.
“Dad,” Zeke said.
“Don’t call me that.”
“What? Are you afraid that Mrs. Barrymore might find out you’ve plowed another man’s field? That was twenty years ago. Surely she’d realize it was a youthful indiscretion, nothing more.”
Barrymore said nothing.
Zeke smiled. “Unless my mother wasn’t the only one. After all this time, are you still running around with other women? You are, aren’t you?” Zeke knew the answer to his own question. He knew everything about Nigel Barrymore.
“My personal life is none of your business, so why don’t you tell me what’s so important that I had to come here to see you. This doesn’t have to do with that fool notion you have about a bunch of immortals running the country.”
Zeke approached Barrymore weeks before when he’d first discovered the Ten Thousand. Barrymore had been aware of his son before that, but never contacted him. Zeke, likewise, had known about his biological father for some time, but he never attempted to meet him. This was at his mother’s request. Now that she was dead and Barrymore could be useful to him, Zeke saw no reason not to use his connection with the old man.
“I have a proposition. How would you like to be council president?”
“And how would you arrange that?”
Zeke waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t sweat the small stuff. Do you want it or not?”
Barrymore considered Zeke for a moment before speaking. “The queen and I aren’t exactly chummy, but let’s say I am interested. What’s in it for you?”
“I get to be king.”
“The President of the Council doesn’t appoint the king or queen alone. It’s a council decision. It’s also up to the council to remove the queen, which must happen first if you were to be appointed, but that’s not likely. She’s very popular. You yourself seem to be one of her biggest supporters, lately.”
Zeke chuckled at Barrymore’s limited imagination. How am I related to this man? he thought. “Again, don’t sweat the small stuff. If you happen to be council president, and the queen happens to be incapacitated, it would be up to you to appoint someone as a provisional authority. Am I right?”
“Yes, of course.” Barrymore looked uneasy. “But how would the queen become incapacitated?”
“Small stuff,” Zeke said as if talking to a five-year-old. “I need to know if you are in or not.”
“Why should I think you can do any of this? I’m not fond of putting my political career in the hands of a twenty-year-old.”
“That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to trust me at all. If you never become Council President, then I won’t expect anything of you. But if you do, I need to know you will do what I ask.”
Barrymore rubbed his tired-looking eyes and sighed. “I don’t know.”
Zeke had run out of patience for this uninspired, small-minded man. “This evening, you left the company of a young woman named Mavis Witmore. Ms. Witmore is now dead. If you agree to my proposal, we will wipe away any sign that you were there. If you do not, the authorities will find ample evidence that you were the last one to see her alive, including video surveillance of you leaving her apartment. I really didn’t want it to come to this, but you move about as fast as a turtle in quicksand, and I’ve got a show to do. So how about it? Are you in?”
Barrymore’s face was ashen. He stood with his mouth open, saying nothing.
Zeke snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Nigel, I need an answer.”
Barrymore slowly nodded his head.
“See that wasn’t so hard. You may go now. I’ll be in touch.”
Barrymore didn’t move. “You’re going to kill Queen Raisa, aren’t you?”
Zeke had turned back to his mirror as he got ready for the show. He spoke to Barrymore’s reflection. “Not necessarily. She just needs a king by her side.”
“What about Prince Alexander?”
Zeke tilted his head in a “you should know better than to ask that” gesture and silently mouthed the words, “small stuff.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Present Day, March 2080
Raisa hadn’t yet registered the sound of weapons fire when she saw red stains form on Alexander’s chest. No. No! She couldn’t breathe as she watched Josh raise his gun and fire three rounds at the man who’d shot Alexander, hitting him twice in the chest and once in
the head. The last shot took him down, but it was too late.
Alexander stood as if frozen, held up by an unseen hand. He looked down at his chest and then up again. His gaze found Raisa’s as he moved his lips, forming the silent words, I love you.
“No!” Her scream pierced the air, and she grabbed the fence, trying to pull herself back through. Penly held Raisa around the waist, stopping her. “Let me go,” she screamed, not taking her eyes off of Alexander as he fell forward. “Let me go.”
Josh ran to Alexander and rolled him on his back. Hefting him on his shoulder, he brought him through the torn fence, and laid him on the ground, behind a patch of undergrowth, blocking them from the easy view of anyone who might be approaching.
Raisa fell to her knees next to her husband. His skin was pale, but his eyes were alert. When he tried to talk, no words came, and Raisa could see the panic on his face. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly. “I know,” Raisa said, stroking his hair, trying and failing to look reassuring. “It will be okay. It will be okay.” Her tears fell on Alexander as she watched his eyes lose focus and drift away from her, the blank face of death replacing his fear.
Josh ran a hand over Alexander’s face, closing both of his eyes. “We need to go,” he said, standing. “I’m sure they heard the shots.” He pulled the small earpiece from Alexander’s ear and stood.
“No.” Raisa’s scream turned into a wail as sobs wracked her body. She couldn’t live without him. Not now. She needed him as a wife and as a queen. “No!” She’d heard Josh telling her they needed to move, but she couldn’t make herself go, not with Alexander lying helpless, exposed.
Raisa felt someone put their arms around her and lift her as the rest ran. It was Penly. She followed, carrying Raisa. They ran deep enough into the woods to put distance between them and anyone who might have followed the sound of gunfire.
“There’s no way we can outrun them,” Josh said.
“I can,” Penly said. She eased Raisa out of her arms and to her feet but kept a hand on her until Sanders put an arm around her. “You head north, and I’ll keep going west. I’ll make sure they have something to follow.” She took a gun from Pinkerton.
Raisa shook her head and said, “No,” through her tears. “We need to stick together.”
“Ma’am, I can draw them away and stay ahead of them. It’s the only way.”
“No,” she said, pushing Sanders away. She wasn’t willing to lose Penly too. “We stick together.”
Penly looked at Josh with a question in her eyes.
“Go,” he said. “We’ll head north.”
Raisa felt fury redden her face. “You will not contradict me, Lieutenant. I am your queen.” Raisa held his gaze in silence for a long moment.
“You are my queen, and when this is over, you may exercise the full extent of your authority to punish me, and I will submit to it. Because I’d rather be punished by a living queen than not punished by a dead one.”
“You left my husband,” Raisa said through a trembling voice. The pain and anger mixed in her heart so she couldn’t tell one from the other. The more she ached for Alexander, the more furious she became at Josh.
Josh didn’t respond to her but nodded at Penly, who ran West through the woods. “We need to go.”
“We can’t leave him,” she said. “I won’t leave him.” She slapped at Josh’s hand as he reached out to her.
“I’m sorry,” Josh said in a quiet whisper before bending to pick Raisa up and laying her across his shoulder.
Together with the rest of the group, they moved through the trees to the north as Raisa beat Josh on his back with her fists. “I hate you,” she said over and over through sobs until she had no strength left.
The fury and pain in Raisa’s heart had morphed into numbness. She was in shock, and she couldn’t do anything to snap out of it. It was as if a foreign entity had gained control of her body. So she sat, staring blankly at her companions.
The group sat in a small ravine, resting, hidden from view. Most of what had happened since Penly left was a blank. The image of Alexander had been seared into her mind, but the rest of it was only bits and pieces.
The group was quiet, each one watching her as one might watch a wounded animal, wanting it to heal, afraid it might strikeout. As she watched them watching her, Raisa realized she was among strangers for the first time in a long time. Her inner circle, the people she had depended upon most to survive life as the queen, wasn’t there. And the one she depended on the most, the one she couldn’t live without, no matter what she told herself, was dead.
Time was imperceptible to Raisa, zipping past or dragging in unpredictable intervals. She didn’t know how long it had been since Alexander’s death, or how long she’d been sitting there. The numbness told her she didn’t care.
Josh approached with water and something in a wrapper. “It’s an energy bar. I raided the snack bar at Raven Rock,” he said, sitting next to her. “We’ll need to get going in a minute. How are you doing?”
Raisa didn’t answer.
“I haven’t said how sorry I am about Prince Alexander, but I am . . . sorry.”
Raisa gulped the water.
“I’m pretty sure Penly drew Zeke’s men away,” Josh said. “She used the rifle to fire off a few rounds. It gave them something to chase.” He paused. “If they were following us, they’d have caught us by now.”
Raisa nodded absently.
“Okay, then.” Josh stood. “Do you think you can walk, or will you need assistance?”
Raisa knew that Josh was being diplomatic. Are you going to cooperate, or am I going to have to carry you again? That’s probably what he wanted to say. He was probably mad at her for putting him through that, but Raisa didn’t have the energy to care. “I’m fine,” she said in a voice just above a whisper. It was a lie, but it told him what he needed to know. She would cooperate.
As they walked, Raisa realized that she didn’t know where they were or where they were going. Someone was calling the shots, and she figured it was Josh. The reigns of leadership fit naturally in his hands. That presented a problem for Raisa. What do I really know about Josh? she asked herself. She had recruited him, but all she really knew was what he’d told her. Not exactly a proper vetting.
“Where are we going?” Raisa asked. They were the first words she spoke since resuming their journey more than half an hour earlier.
“Sabillasville,” Josh said. “It’s a couple of hours north.”
Raisa had never heard of it. “What’s in Sabillasville?”
“Abandoned buildings. It was a small town decimated by the virus; it never recovered. We can find shelter there and figure out our next move.”
“That’s convenient,” Raisa said.
Sanders, who walked ahead of them, looked over her shoulder with a questioning gaze.
“It was Alexander’s idea,” Josh said. “He didn’t tell me why, but he thought it was too dangerous to head back to the capital before we knew what was going on.”
That was true. Alexander didn’t want her going back to the Palace until they had contacted someone they could trust. But he never mentioned Sabillasville.
“We talked about it last night in the chapel,” Josh said, reading her suspicion, “while you were sleeping.”
Raisa kept her eyes ahead and said nothing.
“Ever ride a motorcycle?” Josh asked. Raisa didn’t answer. “I used to have one, and when somebody was riding on the back with me, it was important that they trusted me. So when I leaned into a turn, if they didn’t lean with me because they were afraid, it made it harder for me and more dangerous.
“I know you’re in pain,” Josh said. “But if you don’t trust me, we’re not gonna make it. You’ve got to set aside your grief until this is over and follow my lead.”
Like hell, I will. Raisa thought. Who does this guy think he is?
“Or you can fight me because you’re afraid and make it more dangerous for everyone.”
“I am not afraid,” Raisa said. “I’ve been hunted by a madman, I’ve been shot down in an airship, and I’ve killed a man. So don’t talk to me about fear.”
Josh looked at her with sad eyes. “Not afraid to die. Afraid to live.”
Sabillasville was, as advertised, a ghost town. Raisa had never seen a whole town deserted like this. Parts of the capital had been abandoned after the virus, but she could travel a few miles and find civilization. Sabillasville was a collection of dilapidated buildings nestled in the woods, not unlike old Mayan ruins. Its grim countenance pushed the darkness of Raisa’s loss deeper into her soul.
The group was exhausted when they arrived at what Raisa figured was the center of town. It had a church, a strip of shops, a convenience store/gas station, a few houses, and a large factory-like building. They took shelter in the shade of the strip shopping center. The building was old, made of bricks, and had been ignored for a long time. Josh looked into the broken storefronts and announced what everybody knew; there was nothing useful left in them.
Raisa wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and never wake. If she could sleep, maybe she could forget her pain.
Josh looked tired like everyone else, but he didn’t rest. Taking Sanders, he set off to investigate their surroundings. Before leaving, he spoke quietly to Kaufman, no doubt telling him to keep a close eye on Raisa.
Walking along the sidewalk away from the others, Raisa looked through a broken display window into what had probably been a consignment shop. A faded sign read Katie’s Korner. Everything of value was gone, but it offered Raisa something, a place to hide. She had no illusions that they’d let her hide from them, but she could find a secluded corner to herself.
Inside was musty and probably moldy. A dirty mattress on the floor told her others had stayed there. Raisa wondered how long ago and what happened to them. A small changing room in the back of the shop gave her what she needed, her own space. It had three sides and an opening that had once been cordoned off with a curtain by the looks of it. The curtain was long gone, but the walls of the small room were still there and provided the only refuge Raisa could find. Too tall to stretch out, Raisa curled up on the floor, lying on her side.
