Advancing ((Advance Industries #2)) (12 page)

“I’m nothing like you!”

I leave the room, amazed that he doesn’t follow and that he has no AIG out here waiting to stop me. I could go in there now and kill him, he’s alone, unarmed, unprotected. But could I do it in cold blood? I’ve never killed, never thought I’d be capable of it unless it was a me-or-them situation. But that’s what I came back for wasn’t it? To assassinate him? Now I’m thinking about it do I need to do that? His son said to wait until Election Day but why? Why that day? Can’t I find a way to oust him and have him arrested instead? Who’d believe me? I’ve seen the film feed of his election; he’s adored, hailed a hero, a whistle-blower. How does he get from the man I just met in there to the man thousands swoon over?

I’m not sure what to do next, where to go. My home in Zone 4 would be the first place he’d look for me but then he didn’t seem too concerned about me walking away. I’m in Zone 1 right now at the labs; the conference centre is next and beyond that the gates to the streets. Maybe I should immerse myself in the new way of life here? Get a feel for the people’s thoughts. Find out if my sisters really are in shacks!

I’ve met no opposition the whole way. Zone 1 is like a dead zone. I reach the gates to exit the complex, the same gates I first met Fraser at. I walk through and see people milling about in the shopping precinct. I’m about to walk over and join them when a booming voice bellows out into the street. I look to my left in the direction it comes from and my hand flies to my mouth.

Halfway down the road are uniformed men all stood to attention in lines of ten to a row. Their backs are towards me but up ahead of them a huge holograph feed is playing right in the centre of the town. They all seem to be watching it transfixed.

A message is displayed on a loop.

WE NEED YOU!

PEOPLE OF THE CITY JOIN US NOW!

OUR TRAINING PROGRAMME IS WAITING!

RISE UP AND DEFEND YOUR FAMILIES!

WE NEED YOU!

PEOPLE OF THE CITY JOIN US NOW!

I watch in morbid fascination. What the hell is this? I’ve never seen so many guards. What training programme? What on earth is going on? I cross over to the precinct to blend in better and see if I can catch any conversation regarding the scene in front of us. I can’t pull my eyes away. I take a seat at the pop-up stall, my mind racing ten to a dozen.

A woman joins me also staring in the distance watching the proceedings.

“What’s going on?” I whisper.

“Call to action,” she whispers back, her eyes darting around. “Every able-bodied man has been called to train and become an AIG, even the homeless!”

“Called by who?”

“We don’t know. They’ve got everyone scared to death, something big went down in the complex and now it’s like they’re preparing for war.”

“War? Against who?”

“No idea. It’s just rumours but something is going on, they’re building an army for a reason.”

Yeah, they are. Strength in numbers. They’ve realised their pathetic AIG could be taken down. They’ve realised they’re no match for those who are trained and if off grid challenged them they wouldn’t stand a chance. They’re desperately trying to build numbers to protect themselves, to make themselves stronger. They’ve given the homeless a purpose and they’re coming out fighting.
Time to regroup
my arse!

“Where do they train?”

“Out here, they’ve moved all homeless from the streets, set curfews and they all just train right in the street. The ones that live in shacks can watch what they do, last night for example...” She trails off and looks around again. “Last night they were out here, the place was lit up like Christmas and all we could hear was bang, bang, bang. I was too scared to look out and find what was happening but it was noisy and the air stank.”

Bang
, like in the future. The unmistakable sound of a gun being fired? Guns? For God sake, are they being trained how to use guns? Where did they even come from? I feel the blood drain from my face.

“You live in the shacks?” I ask the woman and she nods still watching the soldiers, AIG or whatever they are.

“Have any new women moved in recently?”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Why?”

“I’m looking for my sister, she left our Zone and I think maybe she went to the shacks?” I shrug hoping she buys the story.

“A load of people has moved into the shacks recently. It’s possible I guess.” She’s being noncommittal probably now unwilling to speak to me as she realises I’m a Zone dweller. I can’t blame her; they’ve never been treated very well by those with wealth. She turns her back on me and I realise that’s the end of our conversation. She won’t help me when my kind have never helped her.

Wealth still divides us then. I rise from my seat and make to move when her hand snatches out and wraps around my wrist. “I wouldn’t make it known you’re looking for someone; they tend to disappear!” She whisper-hisses.

I bend back down and ask, “Why?”

“The way I see it, to achieve whatever it is they’re trying to achieve they need people separated from loved ones, they need people isolated and desperate to fall into line and agree to whatever they ask. What better ammo is there than knowing they have your loved ones?”

I swallow quickly as her words sink in. “Can you help me?”

“I can’t help myself. Why would I help you? Money talks, you must have plenty, try using it for something other than lording it over us.”

“Buy them out?” I question.

“Buy them out, sexual favours. Work with what you’ve got.” She shrugs and I grip hold of the table to stop from passing out. I didn’t think this city could get any worse but what we did at the labs have sent them into a panic. Is it possible we caused them to act even crazier? How many people are they holding? The shacks must be a temporary holding site as the dwellers have too much of a chance to witness what they’re doing; they won’t want that. Secrecy has always helped them through; if they don’t have that would the city turn against them? Cause an uprising? How would the poor stand a chance, though, they have new teams of AIG, guns and the wealthy to contend with. Will I ever live in a safe world? Does something so simple even exist? Or is this it, constantly battling, fighting and trying to emerge? Am I naive to even contemplate such a thing? Is it really too much to ask, to expect to be able to live easily with no threat, no looking over my shoulder waiting for the next problem, the next issue that needs fixing. Was my life better when I had no memories? I certainly wasn’t happy but I wasn’t unhappy either. I had a purpose. I didn’t have any grand decisions to make. Am I a coward for even thinking this?

I decide I need to go to my home in Zone 4, wise or not I need footwear, I need food and I need to think. I can’t keep relying on rushing off and hoping things come together. If I’m going to succeed I need to plan, I need to do what the team taught me, what they trained me for. I need every advantage possible because this new city has changed drastically and once again I’m on the back foot. I knew it wouldn’t be easy but I never expected that an army of AIG would have to be contended with. I look down the street to see if I can sneak past and make it to the other entrance of the Zones. The guards have started marching forward, walking straight through the hologram. They’re straight-backed, rigid and heading away from me. At last some luck. I just hope it holds out.

Yep, I fucking hate those tubes. Travelling happens in the blink of an eye; seriously if you blink you miss it. I always imagined it would feel like being pulled through strong suction, but it doesn’t, the moment I emerge the other side it’s a moment of light-headedness before regaining my footing and snapping back to reality, looking for danger, threats and aligning myself with the fact that I just travelled many years to the past in a flash. The technology has always astounded me but my ultimate goal is still to destroy it. Especially since living in the new version of my time these last few weeks where crazy people have no idea what they’re doing or where they’re going but they aimlessly travel constantly anyway. The need to flit through time is all consuming and though it makes no sense they crave the feeling, those few seconds where you feel suspended before being sucked to the destination.

I understand addiction, I’m addicted to Faith otherwise there’s no way I’d put myself through the danger of travelling, there’s no way I’d follow her wherever she runs too like a little lost puppy and there’s no way this is going to become a continual cycle. It ends one way or another. I won’t let this become my life, our life. I won’t let my child be born in a world where technology is the be-all and end-all. I won’t let Advance Industries be part of our future. I’m resolute on that. I’m finally thinking clearly. My head and my heart have reached an understanding, a truce if you will. They’re both on the same page for once.

I’m waiting in the Advance tube room and far from being apprehensive, I feel calm. I’m here, I made it. Faith is near I feel it in my bones. I’m walking the same path she took hours ago. Was she scared? Upset? Does she miss me? Is she longing for me the way I’m longing for her? I wish I could bubble wrap her. I know she’s made of strong stuff but she also has a vulnerability about her that she can’t acknowledge. I’ve weakened her even more than she already was with my behaviour and the last words I said to her. Or have I? Did she take those words and harden herself; did I make her come out fighting? Fuck I hope not in a roundabout way. Fighting is the last thing I want to imagine her doing, putting herself in harm’s way again could have devastating consequences. I don’t think either of us would be able to shoulder that.

I look up as Palmer appears in the tube. His eyes are closed and I wait for him to centre himself before opening the sliding door. I slap him on the back as he steps out and takes the spot next to me. We don’t speak just silently wait for Walker to arrive. As we’re waiting I have one of those light bulb moments and tell him to stay and wait for the others while I go off to check Advance Industries little museum of horror.

I enter the room that housed the guns and discs and my mouth drops open. This room was full of weapons last time I was here. They took over every wall and display unit but now it’s bare, empty. There are a few discarded bullets on the floor and a handful of handguns but the big uns? Yeah they’re gone! I check in the drawers just in case but even the explosives are missing. Holy shit! When was this cleared out? By who? And where the hell are they now?

I trudge back to the Advance room just as the Comm travellers appear. Wide grins are thrown around at each other. Relief that it worked and we all ended up where we planned. I scan the group looking for tell-tale signs that they’re heading over to the crazy side but they all seem normal. No affect yet thank God.

A sinister thought flies into my head. What if when they travel back home, after we’ve fixed things here, what if then, that last time of travelling is what sets off the crazy?

What if they go back home to witness our time is back as it should be and they won’t be able to comprehend, enjoy or bask in it because... because their brains have turned into a pile of crazy mush? Shit! I should have left them there. This is why strategies need time. They shouldn’t be rushed because in the heat of the moment something is always forgotten, overlooked and it’s usually something important, something that needs careful consideration. I keep just blindly leading these men and they stupidly follow. If my old commander could see me now, could see how I’ve been handling things he would never have promoted me to team leader.

I run my hands through my hair; it’s annoyingly long now, curling at the ends. My face is just as bad full of stubble making me feel dirty.

I hear someone say, “He’s doing it again.” And I snap my attention back to the team. They’re waiting for direction, staring at me like I’m having a breakdown.

“Doing what?” I ask

“Zoning out! Are you ready or are we gonna stand here all day?” Jonah snaps making sure I know he’s unimpressed with where my heads at and how I look to the team I’ve just got back on side.

“Let’s go!” I answer and signal with my index finger in a circular motion mid-air.

“We need to arm ourselves,” he says as if I need reminding.

“I know,” I say hoping the warning in my voice is clear. I’m not completely fucking stupid. I stare at him. “I checked the armoury here but it’s been cleaned out.”

“I think we need to pay Charlotte a visit,” he says smirking.

My face falls, he’s right. She helped us last time we were here but fuck if I want to cross paths with her again. Miss Bennett is a face I wasn’t counting on revisiting. We need phasers though and she’s a safe bet, well not quite safe but she’s dealt with us before. Damn, if I can find a way around that I definitely will.

I’ve made it to the Zones; my Comm allowed me entry via the iron gates much to my surprise. I thought that after travelling maybe the tech would be fried or unrecognisable to the system, even though Kye has no problems travelling and using his original Comm. I expected with my luck to be defeated before I even started.

The Zones are quiet and though I’m unsure about walking through them I think calling an over-rider would call more attention. I don’t know what time curfew is and my heart starts pounding over being caught outside past it.

Night time starts crawling over the sky, the beams of sunlight being snuffed out by its nemesis. I keep my head down, my hands in Trask’s jacket pockets and try to appear as inconspicuous as possible. I really don’t know if this is a good idea but it’s the only one I have. My feet walk me forward of their own accord. I couldn’t stop and turn back if I wanted to. Besides, where would I go? I’m not exactly brimming with options.

I reach my home, the fake house that never felt homely and now I know why. I haven’t been back here since I found out it isn’t mine, the photos of my parents aren’t really my parents. The decor never matched me because I never chose it. It was all a farce, my entire life. I step inside with a detachment verging on humiliation. How was I so blind, so easily led and convinced?

The opulence I lived in is so far removed from how I grew up, how did I fall into living here so easily, without question? Why was I so naive? Sure I had niggles of doubt, certain things didn’t quite add up or feel right but I could never put my finger on it. How do you look for something that is so well hidden? Something that is easier to accept than to dig deeper into?

I take the winding staircase up to the second floor and stand on the threshold of my old bedroom. I step across and the light filters on immediately, I don’t turn it off. My eyes are drawn to my bed. The huge inviting bed that’s calling my name. I feel drained, weary. I’ve never experienced fatigue like this, loneliness like this or doubt like this before. It’s a constant gnawing fear that I can’t shake. I sit on the bed and wrap my arms around myself, hugging myself because there’s no one else that can. I pushed them away. I chose this solitude, whether my reasons were right or not I started this, I brought it upon myself. A tear escapes and slips down my cheek. Loneliness. I miss Kye. I miss his strength. His fierce, unwavering love. I miss what we once had and long for what I’ll never have again.

I fall back on the bed and let sleep take me. I let it take me under so deep that my consciousness isn’t able to think, isn’t able to hurt. I let it pull me further until everything is inconsequential.

I wake up and suffer a few minutes of raging panic. I’m not like the team, I never got used to waking up in a new location and adjusting to it. Waking up here is like wading through a bad dream, the ones that seem so real you can never tell if it was a figment of imagination or if it really happened. The light is still on so I’m not scared by dancing illuminated shadows. My sanity comes back to me slowly; my heart resumes beating at its new half pace. My brain kicks into survival mode, all functions switch back to normal. I’m alone. I’m okay. I’m strong.

I can do this.

I walk over to my walk in wardrobe and flick past the way too may clothes stored in there. Racks, rails, drawers, shelves filled with clothes, shoes, accessories and items not needed. I pull down a bag and throw some tops and jeans in it. I’m preparing to never return here. I remember how long I was in the same clothes before when Kye abducted me and kept me for days before Advance Industries took over my capture. I never want to feel that dirty again. I might not know where I’m headed but wherever it is I’m taking extra everything. I bundle in some underwear and search for decent shoes. My wedges are pretty but if I have to kick arse, run or be on my feet walking for long periods I need something way more reliable, not to mention comfortable. No pain no gain can kiss my arse... where my feet are concerned anyway. My heart? Yeah it’s having itself kicked in that department. It was broken before I left him but now I don’t think it will ever have a chance to heal. I huff at my weakness, I need to stop thinking about him, need to stop letting his eyes and smile and body and laugh permeate my every waking moment. His touch, his lips, his... Arrgghhh my God. I feel sick again. Love sick? Is that really a thing? Are my thoughts nauseating me? When did I turn this feeble?

I shake my head and concentrate on putting on a pair of socks and then some trainers. Small, mundane tasks. One thing at a time. I’m being swamped by that sickly feeling again and decide my next task should be food, my stomach is somehow rumbling and roiling at the same time like a tornado is forming in my stomach, a whirling, swirling vortex of discomfort bubbling away inside.

I hold my hand over my mouth, the sensation of too much saliva threatening to spill from my lips not helping ease the turmoil.

I stand up slowly waiting for the impending dizziness to take over at the slightest movement and smile when my fears are for nothing. I sling the drawstring bag over my shoulders and leave the room. I take the stairs again as the thought of going in the Eleview makes me queasy once more. I practically skip to the kitchen; my need to eat and make this empty feeling disappear is high. It’s my top priority. I can’t remember when I last ate but my body won’t be thwarted any longer.

There’s no food here!

Typical! I manage to find a few crackers and force them down my throat, they’re dry and hard to chew but I make myself consume them. I look at the time on my Comm and realise it’s early hours of the morning. The sky outside is now inky black as though an oil canvas has been stretched across it. I have to go now, curfew or not I have to investigate. I have to find a lead on my sisters and figure out what Advance Industries are up to by building their army.

The cover of darkness is my best chance. I can be sneaky. I feel for the knife in my pocket. Still there. I’m ready... I think.

I’ve been railroaded. The team took a vote and we’ve been trekking through off grid for hours all to go and see her. Charlotte fucking Bennett. I’m sulking and plotting. I need to prepare myself for the manipulative woman I’m about to face off with. I’ve never met a woman like her and I never want to again. The team joke it’s because she’s the female version of me. An insult. We are nothing alike. Don’t get me wrong I have a grudging respect for her, for what she’s achieved in a male dominated world. She has a hardness about her that she’s had to maintain to succeed. She worked me over good and proper last time, made me prove myself before offering any assistance and I can’t be arsed jumping through hoops for her entertainment again. I have shit to do. I’m not an act to be offered up for amusement but to her that’s exactly what fresh blood is. She’s been surrounded by the same fighters for so long that new meat practically turns her on.

I pleased her last time and my reward was the tent, furniture such as the camp chairs, phasers, Comms and paper.

Bargaining tools.

Money is worth nothing to these people. They’ve managed with none for so long that they have their own currency, their own way of surviving, bartering and weapons are highly sought after.

She’s ready for a war and merely giving away much-needed firearms isn’t an option. If you want Charlotte to help, you have to give her something in return, something she desperately needs.

After all, fair is fair. Her tastes are somewhat singular, though. An alliance with her is good. Or so the men seem to believe. They weren’t her puppets, though; they weren’t the ones having their strings pulled. Oh no that is reserved for team leaders while the actual team are treated like royalty. Lavished with attention, affection, feasts and any necessities they need.

I can feel the team’s excitement as a tangible mist in the air. If I stuck my tongue out, I’d taste their eagerness. I don’t know when this new voting system came into play but I’m ready to knock it on the head. I decide. I’m in charge. So how do I keep finding myself on the wrong end of a team vote?