Authors: Daelynn Quinn
Chapter
23
I
leap to my feet and shake Marcus awake. It only takes him a second to grasp the
situation. He jolts forward, grabs Evie and we take off running, urgent to
reach the next intersection or side street.
All
the exhaustion I felt previously is long gone, as a second wind of energy
pushes me forward over the tracks. I can see Marcus struggling with Evie, who
is now awake and screaming. He didn’t get enough sleep and now he’s losing
wind.
Evie’s
eyes drown in pure terror as she points behind us, and shrieks. I turn to see
the blinding white light of the train storming towards us. My thighs scream as
I attempt to speed up. I see a side street up ahead to the left. We’ve got to
push harder if we are to make it there in time. The train closes in with
rumbling tenacity. I put my hand on Marcus’s back and push, keeping him from
slowing down. With the train only a few feet away I push Marcus and Evie off to
the side and dive behind them. The train catches my heel and I feel a crashing
lightening bolt of pain strike my ankle and shoot up my calf.
I
bellow like a feral cat, unable to suppress the pain. Marcus pulls me back from
the train and against a wall to safety. Evie curls up next to me and holds my
hand. He removes my shoe and sock and examines my ankle, which has already
begun to swell. “It might be broken,” he says, “but I’m not a doctor.”
“No
kidding,” I mutter, recalling the day in the forest when I stitched up his
wound.
Sweat
is trickling down my face and my body is sweltering like a hot spring. Marcus
helps me take my jumpsuit off. I’m so glad to be out of that thing, I don’t
know why I didn’t take it off earlier. Underneath, my clothing is a drippy,
sweaty mess. Marcus tears the jumpsuit into long strips. He uses them to wrap
up my leg and foot with my baton as a splint, to keep it immobilized.
“They
know we’re down here,” I say, breathlessly. Marcus doesn’t look up. He
continues wrapping my leg, but I can see by the defeat in his eyes that he
understands.
“We’re
not going to your house,” he says. “They’ll know that’s where we’re headed, and
you can’t walk that far in this condition anyway.”
“So
what do we do?” I ask. He raises my ankle over his thigh to keep it elevated
and lies back on his elbow, lifting his hand to his brow. “I don’t know. Let’s
just get some rest for now.” Evie curls up in the crook between us and I stroke
her copper curls as she and Marcus fall asleep.
The
Web is eerily quiet again. The distant echoing of the train has subsided and
I’m reminded of the ominous silence in the woods where I woke up weeks ago. The
sound of Marcus and Evie’s rhythmic breathing helps me keep time, much more
soothing than the ticking of my imaginary mental clock.
I
couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to. Between the adrenaline rush and the
throbbing in my leg my brain will not allow me to rest. So instead I just lie
here as the hours pass, analyze what happened, and try to come up with some
options.
There’s
no reason for any train to be running this time of year. It must have been sent
to destroy us. Did Glenn sell us out? No. Surely Glenn has been apprehended for
what he did to the Enforcers. He’s probably been tortured already for his
abetting our escape. Part of me quivers at the thought of the whips and burns.
But another deeper, more sinister part of me is spitefully pleased. After what
he did to Marcus, that’s the least he deserves. But he did help us. And he
risked himself for it. I have to give him that. In my heart, Glenn and I are
even.
Marcus
is probably right about my house. It’s the most obvious place we would go to
upon escaping. Even if we could make it there with my crippled ankle, there’d
be guards waiting for us when we arrive.
I
try to think of any bunkers that could possibly be unlocked. Churches, perhaps?
Maybe the homeless shelters? Unlikely. If authorities discovered an unlocked
bunker, the church would lose its tax exemption. No religious leader would risk
that. And a homeless shelter would be shut down. Our outlook is looking
exceedingly hopeless the more I think about it. We may end up dying a slow,
agonizing death down here by starvation. Great. Now I just reminded myself how
thirsty I am.
Despite
the pain, I pull my leg back and slide away from Evie, who is now laying her
head on Marcus’s stomach, being sure not to wake either of them. They need the
rest. I struggle to lift myself up to my feet, then I take one last look at
Marcus and Evie. They look so peaceful and serene in their slumber. Marcus will
make a great father one day, even if he can’t have children of his own.
Certainly a much better father than those who spread their seed around so
freely. It’s a shame life works out that way. So unfair.
I
limp down the side tunnel we are in, Phoenix Landing. The name sounds vaguely
familiar, but it’s not in my town. Some streets have public restrooms, since
travel time is much slower down here. Fortunately, I don’t have to walk far to
find one. And since it’s not connected to the outside world, the door is
unlocked.
It’s
just as dark inside as it is in the tunnel, but with the emergency lights, I
can manage. The first thing I do is twist the faucets to see if the water is
running. Relief floods my veins when water comes gushing out. Leaning against
the sink, I cup my hands and drink as much as my body will take, then splash
some on my face and clean off the remaining crust of cover-up on my tattoo.
In
the faint gleam of the yellow-tinted light, I find the outline of my face
reflecting from the mirror, specked with sparkling beads of moisture. As I
stare into the darkness of my reflection I hear a voice echoing in my mind, “
When
you are ready to move on, we’ll find you
.”
How will they find us? Especially down here? It makes no sense. I shake it off,
use the restroom, and hobble back to the tunnel where I left Evie and Marcus.
Marcus
stirs as I approach. “You shouldn’t be walking on that,” he says.
“I
needed to use the bathroom. Besides, you can’t carry Evie
and
me. I think I’ll be okay,” I lie. The pain
is
excruciating, radiating up my calf and halfway up my
thigh with each lightweight step. But I won’t burden him with knowing that. We
need to find a way out of the Web and out of danger’s path. Then I’ll worry
about my ankle.
Evie
yawns and stretches her arms over her head, signaling her awakening. “Any
ideas?” I ask.
“Not
yet,” says Marcus.
“I’m
hungry,” says Evie, standing up.
“Me
too,” I say. “But it’s going to be just a little bit longer. Do you want some
water?” She nods. I turn to Marcus, “There’s a public restroom a few doors down
with running water.”
“I’ll
take care of her,” says Marcus. “Sit down and wait here.” Marcus takes Evie’s
hand and guides her as she skips down the dark tunnel. I lean against the wall
and slide myself down, extending my injured ankle in front of me. I watch
longingly as Marcus and Evie disappear into the darkness. Then, my eyes close and
I allow myself to fully relax.
I
swear I hear a faint sound, like water dripping from a leaky faucet.
Drip.
Drop. Drip. Drop
. I try to imagine what the
pipelines look like beyond the walls of the tunnels, where the water leak could
possibly be coming from. Or it could be leakage from a rainstorm above ground.
It was so dry outside in the yard, we could certainly use some rain. Although
there wasn’t a rain cloud in the sky earlier today while I was in the rotunda.
Or was that yesterday? My sense of time is completely screwed up. The sound
seems to be getting louder. How is that possible?
“
Because
it is not dripping water,
” a voice inside
my head says. It is footsteps. And they are headed this way. I try to stand but
anxiety has clasped on to my ankles like a set of manacles and they keep
slipping out from under me. So I crawl and I slither my way to the bathroom
across the cold, dusty floor, all the while hearing the footsteps draw nearer.
Pulling myself up by the door handle I manage to regain my footing and push the
door open. I look back to see a luminous white orb of light rounding the
corner.
“You
there! Wait!” a deep, manly voice calls out in the distance. I push the door
open and slam it shut behind me. My hand searches the side of the door for a
lock, but there is nothing.
“What
is it?” Marcus asks, turning off the water at the sink.
“Someone’s
coming.” I whisper frantically. Marcus joins me by the door, placing his weight
against it to keep it shut. Through the door I hear the footsteps approaching and
light filters through the slit under the door.
“Miss
McRae?” The voice asks softly from beyond the door and my breathing quickens.
He knows who I am. He’s probably here to take me back to Crimson, where I’ll be
executed as an example to the others.
Under
the door, the light is blocked for a moment as something is slid into the
bathroom—a slip of paper. Marcus lifts it and, since it is much too dark
to read, holds it down to the emergency light on the edge of the floor.
“What
does it say?” I ask, falling to my knees.
“It
says, ‘Myra sent me,’” says Marcus. But I have to read it for myself, so I join
Marcus on the floor by the light and read the note myself. As I shift the paper
in the dim yellow light, something else catches my attention. On the background
of the paper is a watermark in the shape of an infinity fly.
Marcus
lifts me up off the floor and takes Evie into his arms. I crack the door, but
the lantern outside momentarily blinds me. The man holding it notices my
discomfort and pulls it to the side, behind the wall. Now I can see his face.
It’s the dark-skinned man who drove the van to my house. Sage, I think his name
was.
“You
can trust me,” he says. “I’m here to take you to our headquarters.”
At
this point, what choice do we have? Go with him or keep running and possibly
die of starvation. I limp out of the door, with Marcus and Evie following.
“How
did you find us?” I ask.
As
Marcus wraps his arm around my waist and helps support me, Sage leads us down
several tunnels, explaining his presence.
“Myra
placed a tracking device in your skin as you were getting out of the van and we
set up a surveillance system surrounding your house. When you fled, we tried to
get to you, but the Crimson Enforcers had already set up a perimeter.
Unfortunately, the tracking device must have been removed when you were taken
back into custody.” She placed a tracking device in my skin? I vaguely remember
Myra grabbing my arm and a sting of pain from what I thought was her
fingernail. That must have been the tracking device
. Cunning little bitch
.
“So
you knew we were at Crimson, but how did you know we were here?” asked Marcus,
circling his head around to indicate the Web.
“After
you’d left your house we went in to check things out and place cameras. We took
note of the unlocked door in the bunker. When our surveillance system caught a
legion of men entering your house and setting up in your bunker, we knew you
had to be in the Web somewhere, trying to escape. Myra sent me to come warn you
and bring you back with us.”
After
a few more turns and agonizing steps, we reach a single train car in a
high-speed terminal, Route 66. “It will be safer to travel underground,” he
says.
We
step into the train car, which is nothing like any I’ve seen before. It’s got a
futuristic feel to it, sleek lines, seats that conform to your shape when you
sit in them, an ambient glow that does not feel electrical.
When
we’ve sat down in the seats along the sidewall, Sage approaches the front
window of the train and dances his fingers across it. I can’t quite make out
what he is doing. His fingers slide this way and that, and then he taps the
window in different spots, almost rhythmically. The train lurches forward and
as my upper body swings back I catch a glimpse of some lights and images on the
window. It’s not a window at all. It’s a control monitor.
Marcus
must be taking notice as well. “I thought the electricity was shut down. What
is powering this train?” he asks.
“Geothermal
energy,” Sage replies. “After we discovered the plot, we hijacked this train
terminal and designed it to run on heat trapped within the planet’s surface.”
“What
plot?” Marcus asks.
“You’ll
be briefed on that information when we arrive,” says Sage.
“Earlier,
on route 92, we were driven out by a high-speed train. Was that one of yours?”
asks Marcus.
“No,”
Sage replies. “We only hijacked highway 66, since it’s a cross-country route.
I’m afraid any other HS vehicle in the Web would be controlled by them.”
“Who?”
I demanded. Sage turned toward me and said, “The Trinity.”
There’s
that name again. The Trinity. Glenn was right about all this. There really is a
thirst for power by the wealthiest people alive, and they’ll do anything to
gain it. At the cost of innocent souls. I turn to Marcus, who looks less
puzzled than I expected. He always had a hunch that there was something
sinister behind the virus, from the very beginning. I suppose this confirms his
suspicions.
Evie
is kneeling on the seat between Marcus and me, peering out the window at the
trails of yellow light whooshing by from the emergency lights. I find myself
dozing off only to be jerked awake every few minutes as we turn into a curve.
Marcus simply stares off into space, deep in thought.