Escape (Alliance Book 1) (13 page)

He watched him nod his head, little timid nods. "Good. Here, drink this," and handed him the thermos. Keller drank, looking up at his face, a question in his eyes that he was too scared to ask. He knew it would take a few minutes for the poison to kick in, and his legs were hurting from crouching. He poured some water on to the wadded up strip of the shirt he'd cut earlier and jammed it in Keller's mouth, "Rest for a bit. I'll be back." He went through Keller's pockets and took the comm and his screens and left him there.

The fire was almost gone. They must have been asleep by now. He wanted to walk over and check on them, make sure they were all safe, wanted desperately to see Ella up close.
Almost there, Drake,
he chided himself for his impatience
. Almost there.
Keller was making strange noises behind him. Faster than he thought, that. He ran over and took the rag out of his mouth, and almost ended up with vomit all over his boots. Keller seemed to be throwing up everything he's ever eaten. He looked mortified. His legs were covered in puke now, and he still kept going.

He poured a full thermos of water over his head, and waited, watching him dry heave when he had nothing left to throw up anymore. He saw tears running down his ugly face, in streams. He wondered if there was something wrong with him that he didn't feel the least bit bad about watching this man cry like that. Finally, it seemed to be over.

He threw a full thermos of water on Keller's pants to wash the puke off enough to where it didn't make him want to throw up and crouched at a safe distance from the puddle, the gun aimed at Keller's temple now. He cut the ties on his hands and waited for him to get some blood to his fingers, just enough to be able to use them for a bit, and then handed him the comm, "I need you to get to Hassinger and tell her we got the girls, but we just picked up solders' chatter nearby, and it would be safer to switch to text. That any voice comms would be dangerous. That's it. Anything else and I pull the trigger."

"Can I please have some water first?" a plea, and so sheepish from such a big man. The fear in his eyes, in his voice. He was feeling not a little disgusted by him now. After a few sips, he made the call. He was close enough to hear Hassinger's voice agreeing to the switch, and the almost gentle, "Be careful, Keller" at the end. He took the comm back and tied his hands behind him again with a new set of biters, that's what the guards called these for the uncanny pain they caused when biting into the skin. "I need to know where my tag is and how to disable it. You can speak now," gun pointing between his eyes again.

Keller looked at his face then for a long while, and shook his head, touching the barrel of the gun, "I can't help you with the tag, Drake. I'm sorry, but I don't know how to. I never tagged anybody. They don't let us near the mute girls. They would know, the mutes would, the ones who have the tags, or Hassinger." He was looking down now, probably waiting for him to pull the trigger. Unless he was a complete idiot, he'd know now that he had no more use for him. The tag bit was it.

So there was no way for him to remove the tag. Text comms would buy him about a week at the most, he knew that. A week it was then. Enough time to make sure the kids were safe. Enough time to tell Ella all the things he needed to tell her. Enough time to say his goodbyes. He could live with that.

"Go ahead, Drake. Pull the trigger. I know you aren't letting me go anywhere. It's all right. I wish you'd told me you weren't a dumb mute before. I may have had enough time to learn to like you." He was letting him talk now. It didn't matter if he talked, but it seemed right to let him.

"You know, I really did think of all of you in that way, Drake. Dumb as engineered hogs, but not nearly as useful. It's how it's always been for us with your kind. I'm not saying I'm not an asshole for it. I am just surprised, is all. You knew the kid, didn't you? The Zoriner boy Dana wanted?"

He nodded. It didn't matter to hide it now.

"I thought you were so dumb you were asleep, but you were trying to save him. How the hell did you end up a slave anyway? It never made sense to any of us. What did you do to them? Piss off the Council? It doesn't matter... Do what you have to do, Drake," the man said in a strange voice and put his head down again, looking at the waterlogged leaves around his outstretched legs.

"I let them take me so they would let someone else go, Keller. Someone I've loved since I was a little kid. I went to the Council and made a deal with them. They even gave me this really pretty screen with the sealed promise to let her go if I let them take me, all official-like. Only they didn't let her go. The kid you thought was a rapist... The kid is her brother. He went in looking for her. And when you left the room that night, Hassinger whipped him until he was barely alive. The kid, Riley, he'd lost everybody before, everybody but Ella. I thought I could get her back. Your people lie, Keller. That's who they are."

He shut up now, not sure why he told him all of this, why he felt he should know any of it.

Keller was shaking his head, "Go ahead, Drake. Pull the damn trigger." He looked up at him when he said it, looking more sad than afraid.

He was hiding a large piece of the half dried mushroom in his fist. He opened it and knew Keller saw it and knew what it was. He planned on shoving it down his throat after stunning him just enough to where he couldn't struggle to throw it up, but it didn't seem right to do it this way now.

He stood him up against the tree, and looked at his face, reading it, the way he would someone he knew. He didn't look away from him this time. The fear was still there, and the understanding that he would die, but something else, too, something he didn't expect to see there, defiance maybe or courage even, and shame. He snipped the tie at his hands. He'd need them untied for this to look like an accident.

Keller seemed to know his plan now. He nodded to him and reached for the mushroom. "Can I have one of my smokesticks first? I always imagined that I'd smoke one before I die. Don't know why, but I did. I know you don't owe me that," he said softly, sadly almost, and then shook his head, reaching for the mushroom again, "it's all right, Drake. I understand. I probably wouldn't let you smoke before I killed you. That's honest." He was still shaking his head, slowly, the way Drake used to as a kid when Brent and his friends taunted him, and he didn't want to see him like this, to see the shame in his face.

He reached into the sleeve pocket of Keller's shirt, took out two smokesticks, lit them both, coughed at the unexpected harshness of it, and handed one to him. He stood next to him as they smoked in silence and at the end of it, when Keller dropped his spent smokestick on the ground, he could see in his eyes that he wouldn't need the gun for this. He switched it off, and put the mushroom in Keller's hand, "This won't be like the last time. This will be quick." He wanted to turn away from him then, give him some privacy, but didn't get a chance to, as he watched him swallow the poison as soon as it hit his hand. Keller slid down the tree, looked up at him and nodded, and then closed his eyes and didn't open them again.

He sat next to him, watching him for a long time, his face looking as if he were asleep, only for once not snoring, and suddenly much too young, much younger than a dead face should look. And when he was finally done with the watching, he moved Keller's backpack to the side of the tree and laid his head on it, put his gun under his right hand, the way Keller always did when he slept, and pulled the blanket over him, covering him from the bugs, and from the cold that was outside, and the cold that was already in him.

Covering him from looking so young and so entirely unlike how he'd always looked to him. Covering him from himself.

He woke up to the sound of a crackling fire and clanking of dishes. He reached for his gun, and flicked the safety off, sitting up and aiming at the large shape looming over the flames. The shape un-blurred into Drake. He ran over disregarding the need to pee and hugged him so hard he could barely breathe, "Drake, you bloody giant, you scared the shit out of me. I have to pee. I can't even tell you how great it is to see you. Ella will be thrilled!" He really did have to pee, so he raced towards the stream so he could wash himself as well as take care of the other needs, thinking of all things Drake. None of them really knew what Hassinger would do to him when they found the girls and Ella missing, being a gate guard and all. They didn't mention him once, too afraid to think about it. But he was indeed somehow alive, and here. It was the best kind of thing to happen and just when they were about to go into this maybe-dead city.

Everyone was up and making an awful lot of noise when he got back to the fire. Happy noise. It made him want to giggle seeing everyone so happy, even Laurel. Especially Laurel. He felt bad for what he said to her last night, but she did need to hear it. Maybe not the anger in it, and that he regretted. He had a feeling she liked him less and less the closer he was with Ams, and it bothered him. He didn't want her resentment, didn't know what to do with it, but he did feel oddly guilty for how alone and sad she seemed. Not at all the defiant little girl who wouldn't shut up about all sorts of useless things when he first met her. He smiled at that memory.

Drake was serving tea, and his own mug smelled of sage. He even missed that smell that he never liked before. It was Drake's smell now and he'd probably always miss it when he wasn't around the giant. Strange how that worked, he thought. Our brains putting smells with the people who have them like that. He thought briefly if Ams' and Laurel's brains did that too.
Of course they do, you bloody moron. Of course they do.

He walked over to where Ams was standing and grabbed his mug. Ella wasn't drinking hers, just sitting on the log by herself, staring at Drake as if he were a ghost. Something was bothering her about this, about Drake being here. Finally everyone quieted down enough for Drake to tell them what happened with Hassinger and the days of trekking through the woods with Keller, of all people, Keller whom he hated so much, but then at the end, didn't anymore. He told them what he did to him and there was so much sadness in his voice, nobody said anything. He didn't think he'd have been as decent to Keller if it were him and not Drake who had to do it.

He was pretty sure he would have at the very least beat the shit out of him first, maybe smash his teeth in, break a few ribs, let him know what it felt like to be beaten like that and not be able to defend yourself. And thinking this made him glad it was Drake who killed him, that he didn't leave that to him. He knew what Drake saved him from, and he was grateful for that.

Ella walked right up to Drake then, and shoved her pad at him. He couldn't tell what was on it, but saw all the joy go out of Drake's eyes, as he looked at her, shaking his head, "He didn't know about the tag, Ella, about how to get to it, so it's still in me somewhere, only I was asleep when they did it so I wouldn't know where to begin looking for it, or even what it is I'd be looking for. He honestly didn't know. I'm sorry. I have Hassinger on texts, so this buys us a week before she feels the need to track me. I am okay with a week..." He looked away from her at that, down at the fire, as if embarrassed by this thing that was clearly not his fault.

A week was a long time, should be long enough for them to find some way of getting that damn tag out of him. "We'll find it, Drake. We'll find the tag, I promise. There is no way we are letting them take you back again. You can't go back," he said cheerfully, and he hoped he sounded as certain as he wanted to feel. Drake just nodded, and walked over to where Ella sat on that log and crouched in front of her.

They needed to give him some time with her, he knew, could feel it in the way he was looking at her face, so he ran over to Ams and called for Laurel to join them and walked over to where Drake said Keller was. He didn't know why he chose to go there. He wanted to see the sadistic guard dead. Something in him wanted to, needed to see him dead. Maybe show Laurel what a dead body looks like, so she could start getting used to it. He had a feeling whatever they would see in the city would be a lot worse than just dead bodies, and he dreaded whatever it was going to be maybe as much as the girls did.

He saw the body slumped next to the tree before the girls did. They were trailing a little behind him, chattering about Drake being back. He put his hand up for them to stop, slowly walked over to the covered large corpse, and crouched in front of him. A few flies were already buzzing around him, and the body was definitely not moving. He reached over the head to pull the blanket off his face and stopped. Drake's words describing his last moments, how he smoked with him, the way he did it himself without Drake needing to force him, the way he seemed ashamed of how he was with the mutes, and he couldn't do it. Couldn't pull the blanket off him, didn't want the satisfaction of seeing him dead anymore.

He got up and walked to where Ams and Laurel were standing, watching him, "I can't do it. I don't want to anymore. I thought I did, but now... You can if you want to, I'll wait," and he took a few steps back from the tree, watching the two girls approach the corpse and crouch. They sat there for a while not moving, and then Ams got up and kicked at the body, kicked hard, over and over again. He heard something break. Laurel pulled her away from it, talking to her, hugging her, walking her towards him, and Ams wouldn't look at him when they got close, so they walked back in silence, all lost to their own secrets.

It surprised him to see Ams kick at a dead body like that, after what Drake said. He would have done it himself before, but her doing it after all that felt wrong. He couldn't make sense of it, that anger, didn't understand it in her, and it worried him. There was a hardness to her since they've run, or maybe a little bit before even, a hardness that didn't go with everything else he knew of her. He knew he would have to talk to her about it, he had to. And he knew that she wouldn't want him to, but he had to try.

Drake was alone by the fire when they got back. He stood up when he saw them approach, looking calmer now than he did when they left, "Ella is at the stream. She wanted to be alone for a bit. We should let her," he said quietly to them. He seemed to be making more tea, the kettle red hot on the burning coals. He desperately wanted to be in the city by now, the not knowing getting to him, "Drake, I don't know if they told you about how Reston looks like nobody is in there, or what I told them I think it means, but I really want us to have enough daytime hours to search it, at least to find a safe place for the night." He hoped he sounded gentle enough for Drake to not feel bad about making tea and letting Ella run off to the stream. Something was going on with these two, that was clear enough. He just hoped that this something was a good something. Drake nodded at him, and started packing up the dishes he'd rinsed already and collecting any garbage they left to dig into a hole.

He looked around for Ams, but couldn't find her anywhere. Laurel was watching him from the log, knowing what he was looking for, pointing, "That way... There is a little clearing there, about 15 meters in. That's where she went and sent me away." She sounded hurt. He ran to the clearing she pointed to, worried that something was breaking for everybody now, and he didn't want anything to break for Ams. She was leaning against a birch, hands picking little bits of the bark off at her sides, the dark spots. She didn't move when he came right up to her, didn't look away either. Just stood there, quietly, looking so much smaller than she did when she was kicking Keller's ribs in.

"What is it, Ams?" he asked in as soft a way as he knew how to, afraid to scare her from wanting to tell him. She shook her head, not talking. He wished he could just let it go for now, and if it wasn't for going into the city, he would have.

"Ams, you have to tell me. For all of us, I need to know what it is, so I know how to handle it before we get to the city. We can't have any surprises there. I am sorry, Ams, but you don't have a choice. You have to tell me," he said and reached for her hand, but she jerked it away from him, looking like she would burst into tears.

He changed tactics then, "I wanted to kick him too, you know. Really badly, but I held it back. Didn't want you to see me do that..." He hoped he sounded convincing.

"No, Riley, you didn't. You are a lousy liar. I know what I did. I don't need you to lie to make me feel better." He felt himself blush at that a little. They were wasting time now. Impatience getting the better of him, he reached over and grabbed her head in both of his hands, and held it in place, her squirming at first, then the two enormous eyes just staring at him, angry or hurt, he couldn't tell now.

"If you don't tell me what this is about, you can't come, Ams. I'll leave you here with Drake or Ella and we'll go to the city without you. I can't risk you losing it like that there. Just can't. I know you'll hate me for it, but this isn't about just you or you and me, Ams. It's all of us. I gave Ella my word I'd get her someplace safe, and Laurel, and hopefully you. Even if you don't ever talk to me again, this, you have to tell me, Ams." He let go of her then, waiting for her to collect herself, to stop panting like she was going to explode, to not look at him with so much hatred now.

After a few minutes of this, of watching her stare at him in the way she only did once before, and that time at least he knew he earned it, finally she nodded, "I don't want to go to the city with you, Riley. I would rather go back to whatever life I'm supposed to have with whoever I'm supposed to have it with than this. And I would, if there was any way for me to make it all the way back by myself, but there isn't. So leave me here with Drake or Ella or alone, I don't really care which," and she walked away from him, back to the fire, not once turning around when he yelled her name after her, and then her other older name, Amelia.

Everyone was packed and ready to go when he got to the fire. Drake was trying to talk to Ams, without much success, it appeared. Laurel was sitting next to her pack, crying into her hands. Ella sat on the log, looking at him with sadness in her eyes. He felt every kind of lost. He knew he couldn't really leave Ams behind, but he never thought she'd actually want him to. What she just said to him, he couldn't make sense of it. He couldn't think of anything he'd done to her since the compound that would make her this angry with him. For days now they spent almost all their time together. They were happy, at least he was, and she certainly didn't seem even a little upset by anything until today, until she kicked the bloody corpse.

"Go ahead to the clearing by the edge, guys, just before the road. We'll catch up in a little bit." He watched them leave, thinking, trying to find just the right words in his head to talk to Ams. Nothing about this made sense. She seemed happy this morning when Drake was back, genuinely happy, hugging on him in the way he'd only seen her do with Laurel a few times. It wasn't adding up.

Mind still entirely blank, he walked over to her. Ams was sitting on her blanket, head in her hands. He sat down next to her, and in his best almost Ella-soft voice tried again, "Ams, I'm sorry. Whatever it is I did to make you angry, I'm sorry for that. But you can't stay here alone, and I know you know that. So what you are doing, this punishing me for something, something I don't even know I did, you can keep doing it to me. You just can't do it to anybody else. Not to Drake or Ella or Laurel. And I'm not going anywhere, so you'll have plenty of time, an eternity maybe, to get back at me for whatever it is that I did to you. Anyway you want, Ams."

He got on his knees in front of her, rocked back on his heels, and took her hands away from her face. She was glaring at him, eyes full of unspilled tears, burning into his face, and full of anger, anger at him. She looked like she wanted to hit him.

"Go ahead, Ams. Get it all out and get it over with," he whispered and clasped his hands behind his back, fists really, his own anger getting the better of him now, and waited, hoping he was wrong, that this girl, the one who gently washed his back and stitched his wounds, the one who couldn't light the damn candle because it hurt him, the one who gave herself up to protect him, hoping this girl didn't want to hit him. And then she did, hard, over and over again on his face, and then on his chest, tears spilling from her eyes, and she kept hitting him and he let her, until finally she seemed too tired to swing at him, and dropped her hands.

He got up off her blanket, grabbed his backpack and turned away from her, waiting for her to get ready, not wanting to look at her now, not wanting to look at her for a very long time. He heard her behind him after a while and walked onto the trail the others just made that would take them to the edge of the city, wishing he never met this girl trailing behind him. This girl who he was just starting to fall in love with and whose hand prints he was wearing on his face.

He couldn't explain it even to himself why it hurt so much worse when she hit him than Hassinger's whip. He just knew she broke something deep inside him, something that wasn't hers to break.