The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion Book 2) (11 page)

“Yeah, I know. But my mother is still really angry with her. Furious, actually.”

“Even though she’s...” Lindsey hesitated. “Even though she’s missing?”

“You mean dead.” Mariano ran his hands over his hair, leaving it in uneven tufts.

With a sigh, Lindsey nodded. “I’m sorry.”

How could she lie like this when she knew there was hope? Of course, it was best if people believed Maria and Dwayne were dead. It was safer for them and the city as a whole.

“My mother is a very emotional woman. She loves very deeply and when Maria volunteered for that mission, Mama knew it was going to end with her daughter dead. So she has a lot of resentment not only toward the government, the SWD, and Constabulary, but at Maria herself.”

“Commandant Pierce requested I give these to Maria’s mother personally with her condolences.”

“I get it, Lindsey, but Mama is going to give you hell.”

Considering the secret she was keeping, Lindsey admitted to herself that maybe she did deserve some wrath directed at her. “I’ll deal with it.”

Mariano exhaled, swore in Spanish, then walked over to a door and jabbed the panel. “Mama, it’s Mariano. Maria’s friend, Lindsey, is here to see you.”

Several seconds later, the door opened to reveal a woman who looked startlingly like an older version of Maria. It never failed to amaze Lindsey how much Maria resembled her mother. She’d often teased her friend that Maria already knew exactly how she would look in thirty years, but now Lindsey wondered if Maria would age at all. Was Dr. Curran correct about the virus preserving Maria? Giving her immortality?

“Hello, Lindsey,” Lourdes said, her voice slightly clipped. Her long raven hair was streaked with more white than Lindsey remembered and was wrapped into an ornate bun at the back of her head. “How can I help you?”

Behind Lourdes was a small living room with a large painting of the Virgin Mary on one wall and portraits of the Martinez family. One photo was of Maria in her dress uniform. It was draped in black silk. A candle burned on the table beneath it.

“I just want you to know how sorry I am about Maria,” Lindsey started, fumbling for words.

“I got your messages. Thank you,” Lourdes said, her dark eyes regarding Lindsey suspiciously.

“I wanted to make the memorial service, but I was in surgery that day.” Lindsey had been furious over the scheduling, but had been at the mercy of the Med Center.

“I noticed. No cane this time.”

For some reason, the woman’s words made Lindsey feel guilty. Maria was missing in action and Lindsey had a new leg. It seemed unfair. “Yeah, they fixed my leg finally.”

“It took them long enough,” Lourdes said sourly. “Those assholes.”

“Mama,” Mariano muttered.

“Well, they took my husband and my daughter. I don’t have anything kind to say about them.”

“Maria volunteered. She’s a hero,” Mariano protested.

Rage filled Lourdes eyes. “I will never forgive her.”

“Mrs. Martinez, Maria loved you so much—”

“But she didn’t listen to me and now she’s dead, Lindsey. Why else are you here?” Lourdes folded her arms across her chest and glowered at Lindsey.

“Commandant Pierce—”

“You can go now.” Lourdes moved to shut the door.

“Please, Maria earned these. She’d want you to have them.” Lindsey thrust out the velvet box.

Lourdes regarded Lindsey with contempt. “It’s not enough. Nothing the Constabulary or President Cabot do in her memory is enough! She’s dead. She’s gone. They killed her!”

“Mama, she gave her life for us.”

“They took her womb. They took her future. Then they took her life!”

Lindsey flinched when Lourdes slapped the box out of her hands. It struck the floor on one corner, popped open, and spewed the four medals onto the floor.

“Tell your Commandant Pierce I don’t want them. I want my daughter! I want her whole, alive, and living the life she deserved!” Lourdes shut the door and it audibly locked.

Squatting down, Lindsey collected the medals. Mariano crouched next to her to help.

“Sorry, Lindsey.”

“It’s okay.” Guilt was eating at her again. Lindsey wanted to open the door and tell Lourdes that Maria was alive, immune to the Inferi Scourge, and probably out in the world beyond the mountains with the man she loved. But Lindsey knew that if Lourdes was told the truth, she’d take that information to the authorities, and demand Maria’s return. That would put Maria and Dwayne in jeopardy. That knowledge didn’t help her feel any better.

Standing, Lindsey offered the box to Mariano. “Please take it. Let Maria’s nieces and nephews see what she earned through her service.”

With shaking hands, Mariano took the box. “My father and Maria both died to save this city. They were both turned into something terrible. Was it worth it, Lindsey? Did they save the city? Are we saved?”

Unable to answer for a moment, Lindsey swallowed hard, then nodded. “We’re close to it now. Because of them. The valley will soon be cleared and the farms will bring in fresh food. We’ll be able to flourish again.”

“But for how long?” Mariano wondered aloud. The question seemed directed at the universe and not at Lindsey.

“We’ll find a way. Humanity always does.” Or at least she hoped so.

“Take care, Lindsey. Don’t let them fuck you over, too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She lightly touched his shoulder, then headed back toward the stairs.

“The castellan...”

Lindsey turned around. “Yeah?”

“He loved her a lot, right?”

“With all his heart. And she loved him.”

“Then she was happy.” Mariano held the medals to his chest. “I’m glad to know that.”

“Me too.” Lindsey gave him a wistful smile, then headed down the stairs.

Chapter 10

Torran exited the narrow shopping area tucked between two apartment complexes. The blue tarps that were strung overhead to keep out the sun and rain flapped in the breeze. His purchases safely secured in his bag, he hurried down the road toward the entrance to the Espana Sector.

“...is said to be ready to surrender only to law enforcement officials dispatched from the Judicial Authority. If Admiral Kirkpatrick surrenders this evening, it will bring an end to the standoff between forces loyal to the SWD leader and the Constabulary forces dispatched by President Cabot...”

Glancing at the big vid screen perched above the district square flanked by the local government and security buildings, Torran wasn’t sure if he felt relief or not. Trials were inevitable at this point, but he feared they would only segregate the population. Admiral Kirkpatrick was a very charismatic man. During the last few weeks he’d probably been crafting a defense with his legal counsel and supporters that would be aimed at destabilizing the Cabot presidency.

Another pedestrian bumped into Torran, spurring him onward. The pillars of the meeting hall in the center of the square were draped in black banners and a large granite wall was erected in the front. People clustered before it, some openly praying or weeping. An older woman stood a few feet away with bins full of wildflowers for sale for a few credits. Torran hurried over to her and looked over the wilting display.

“For a loved one?” the woman asked with a heavy accent. Dark eyes tucked into heavily wrinkled lids regarded him with curiosity. She was clothed in what appeared to be tribal garb and her thick silver hair was plaited to her waist.

“A friend, actually. She came from here. Rosario Smyth.”

“She’s on the wall. I’ve seen her face. So sad.” The woman pulled some flowers that were still in fresh condition. They were bright orange and pretty.

Torran handed over a few credits. “She was a good person.”

“They were all good people.”

Nodding, Torran weaved through the mourners toward the placards on the wall. Each one contained the official photo of each soldier lost in defense of The Bastion along with a commemoration beneath it. A narrow metal vase was welded to the corner of each one. Some people hung rosaries or other mementos from the vases, but many were filled with flowers. When Torran found Rosario’s memorial, he was saddened to see her vase was empty. Rosario had been raised in a foster home after the death of her parents during one of the flu epidemics. He’d sent notice to her foster parents, but had never received any sort of reply. His heart heavy for his lost friend, he carefully arranged the flowers in her vase.

“At least Kirkpatrick did something about the Scrags, right?” a guy said to Torran. The dark skinned man with a shiny bald head stared somberly at the image of a soldier who looked quite a bit like him, just younger.

“It was a joint effort,” Torran answered.

“Yeah, but Kirkpatrick had the balls to do make the hard call. You really think there was a cure? That was bullshit. He did what he had to do.”

Torran peeked at the name on the memorial the man was regarding. The name on the memorial was Jose Gutierrez and he’d been in the SWD. It was a name he recognized. “Your family member was Inferi Boon?”

“My brother. And yes. But he knew what he was doing. He willingly gave his life. No questions asked. He died a hero out there.”

“They all did. The question is: did they deserve to die?”

Torran wondered if the man would answer, but he didn’t. Instead, he kissed the image, said something in Spanish, and walked away.

As the crowd briefly parted, Torran saw Lindsey standing at the far end of the memorial, tucking flowers into a holder. Pressing his way through the throng, he drew close enough to see she was leaving flowers for Maria Martinez.

Unwilling to bother her, Torran took a few steps back and tried to not disrupt the mourners. It hurt to see families gathered at the memorial. One woman was carefully cleaning rain spots from the image of a male soldier while a gentleman pressed his forehead to another and prayed.

There were monuments of this type all over the city. Death was such an enormous part of the life of The Bastion that elaborate rituals had grown up around it. Memorial walls and yearly observances of various battles or epidemics were just as common as holiday decorations and celebrations.

Lindsey took a few steps to the right and slid one flower into the holder of another portrait. It was of a man with dark skin and hair. Torran realized it was probably the elder Martinez. He’d read all about Maria and her father’s sacrifices for The Bastion on the news feed.

When the blond woman finally turned away, she spotted him. Feeling a bit awkward, he gave her a small wave. Hands tucked into her coat pockets, she walked to him. Her hair was escaping the braids resting over her shoulders and her hazel eyes looked more green than brown in the muted lighting.

“Sorry to intrude,” he said.

“You’re not.” Lindsey sighed, looking sad and a bit tired.

“My friend, Rosario, she’s on the other end.” He pointed, feeling slightly flustered. He didn’t want to appear as though he was following Lindsey or expecting her to just come along with him. Though he admitted a certain amount of attraction to her, they were just becoming friends.

“Did she die that night?”

“Yeah. She was turned,” Torran said, blinking rapidly so tears wouldn’t form.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, we did our best.”

“We did.” Lindsey stepped beside him, facing the opposite direction, her back to the memorial. She bumped his arm lightly on purpose. “Ready to head back?”

“Yeah. Yeah. You sure you want to walk back together?”

“Don’t be silly,” Lindsey chastised him, rolling her eyes. “Like I really want to walk alone in my own dire thoughts of doom and gloom instead of having company and good conversation.”

“When you put it that way...” Torran offered her his arm and was pleased when she tucked her hand into the crook. “How’d the visit with your friend’s mother go?” Torran asked after they’d departed the square.

“Good. I guess. She’s very...” Lindsey shrugged and looked as though she was trying to find the right words. “Well, she’s one of those people who feels very strongly that everyone should do what she says and when they don’t comply, she’s not very pleasant.”

“Sounds like most of my commanding officers,” Torran said with a wink.

“And mine,” Lindsey admitted with a wry grin. “Maria enlisted against her mother’s wishes. She’d already lost Maria’s father, and didn’t want to lose her only daughter, too. And now she’s gone.”

“And her mother’s angry.” Torran nodded, understanding.

“Not just at the Constabulary or the President. But at Maria.”

“I can see that. It’s hard to see someone you love putting themselves at risk.”

“I foolishly hoped that giving her Maria’s medals would make her feel better, but I think I only made her angrier.”

“Well, her daughter was made into Inferi Boon. That can’t be easy to deal with.” Torran gave Lindsey a significant look. “It can’t be easy for you either.”

Coming to a stop near a subway station, Torran observed that the doors were open, but had a big sign indicating it was under repair. He wondered how long it would be before the trains were running again and his long walks would no longer be necessary.

“It’s not easy. I miss her. She’s my best friend. I sometimes think about how she must have felt when she first realized what they’d done. And then I think about how she must have felt when she understood she’d never come back to the city. That they were going to kill the Inferi Boon.” Lindsey brushed her bangs away from her eyes, her gaze set on the city wall in the distance.

“They’re going to pay for that, you know. The trials will happen soon. The news is reporting that Admiral Kirkpatrick may surrender to the Judicial Authority soon.”

“It doesn’t make it easier,” Lindsey responded.

“I know. It doesn’t.”

“Can I ask you a question, MacDonald?”

“Torran.”

“Torran, can I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“When you transferred to the SWD and you knew they were preparing for an assault against the Scrags, didn’t you fear it would go the same way as the final push?”

“What you’re really asking is why I put myself in the same spot as before. Face to face with the Scrags.”

Lindsey nodded. “Yeah.”

“Because someone has to do it,” Torran said, shrugging. “And if we don’t, who will?”

“So true.”

“So what do folks like you and me do? We volunteer. We do it again and again, because it’s what we do.”

“It’s what makes us better.”

“Not better. Just different.”

Lindsey squeezed his arm. “Nah, we’re better.”

Torran couldn’t help but laugh.

* * *

They’d lapsed into silence a few times along their long walk out of the Espana Sector, but the further away they were from the memorial and the ghosts that haunted it, the more relaxed they became and conversation gradually returned.

The crowds moving on foot through the streets of The Bastion were the only bright colors against the endless drabness of the buildings. Lindsey allowed herself to be swept along at Torran’s side. He was taller, and despite his slenderness, the people parted in front of him faster than they did for her. She supposed it was his bearing. Torran wasn’t in uniform, yet he carried himself with authority. Meanwhile, she deliberately slouched in her long coat and tried to look like an average person.

A throng of kids all under the age of ten rushed along the street, chasing a bright red ball. Laughing and shouting, the children darted around Torran and Lindsey, but nearly toppled an elderly couple wheeling a small metal cart down the road.

“Hey!” Torran shouted after the squealing youngsters. “Be careful!”

“Meant no harm!” a redheaded boy replied.

“Yeah, well, watch out for your elders, all right?” Torran gave the passing couple a brief nod.

The couple returned it thankfully.

“Didn’t see them,” another boy with a rakish grin and blond hair answered.

“Well, we’re not as fast as you and can’t duck out of the way like little monkeys the way you can,” Torran pointed out.

“Do you play football?” one of the girls in blond pigtails asked. Lindsey wondered if she was the other boy’s younger sister.

“Oh, back in the day when I was your age,” Torran admitted. “I’m a bit rusty. Toss it my way and we’ll see.”

The response was one of the little girls kicking the ball right at him. Torran expertly kicked it back, much to the delight of the children.

Lindsey laughed as the ball was knocked back and forth between the kids and Torran, but then one of the drones turned down the narrow pathway and instantly the game was over. While the kids scrambled out of the way and down a side street, Torran and Lindsey circumvented the drone flashing the latest news on the sanitization of the valley on its big screens.

“I thought you were going to thrash them,” Lindsey remarked. She was relieved he hadn’t. Though the kids had been thoughtless, they were also just children. The city was hard to live within and there was not a lot of space to play. In her younger days she’d played plenty of street football.

“Nah, they’re just little people with way too much energy.” Torran shrugged, his narrow face somber. Running a hand through his brown hair, he left the longer ends near his forehead sticking out at charming angles. “They just need to be reminded to watch out for others.”

“True. If the last few months have proven anything is that we need to stick together.”

“I hear ya on that,” Torran said in his faint Scottish accent.

Lindsey’s boots splashed through a puddle from a water main a group of female techs were trying to repair. The old equipment was obviously giving them issues and the group looked agitated. At least there was hope for new equipment in the near future.

They hit a snarl in the foot traffic caused by the break the water main, and Torran reached back for her hand. She surprised herself by taking it. Maybe it was just her loneliness, but she was enjoying her day despite some of the more dramatic parts.