Emergence (Eden's Root Trilogy) (28 page)

“What jail?
” Fi stopped as her mind flew back to the concrete block bathroom. “Oh my God! That must be where he put everyone who Darryl listed.”

“And our security forces,” Sara added wryly.
“I can’t imagine how much worse it is for them in that cold, dirty bathroom.”

Fi shivered, nearly dislodging
a sleepy Luke. “All done, sweetie,” she murmured, trying to push the image of their friends being kept in a freezing cellblock from her mind.

“I’ll take him for a bit, Fi,” Sara said.
She took Luke into the crook of her arm.

Fi smiled.
“That looks pretty natural on you, Sar.”

“Don’t rush me
.” Sara said, kissing Luke’s head. “If anything, sleeping with you and this guy all the time has been a great advertisement for safe sex.”

“Hey!”

“BUT…” she added, “…I have to admit that he’s pretty damned cute. When he’s sleeping.”

Fi groaned.
“Ain’t that the truth. At least you’re getting used to the not sleeping part with me now. You’ll be a champ when it’s your turn.”

“
Awesome. Don’t hold your breath.” She rocked Luke, her hips swaying. “So, back to business.”

“
Yes. What do we already know, oh, Queen of Numbers and Facts?”

Sara pretended to shove her with the toe of her boot.
“We know that the settlers and their own Lobo security are mostly separate,” Sara said. “And our security team is imprisoned on that side of the grounds.”

“Check.”

“And we know that the building Sean and I thought was the armory probably is, since he didn’t show us that one either and it’s on the same end.”

“Check.”

“And we know that Carter’s radio room is all the way at the other end of the grounds.”

“Check.”

“Sooooooo…” Sara’s voice trailed off.

Fi
watched her two-month-old son drool on her friend’s shoulder and she couldn’t suppress a grin. He was totally
out.
Whenever she watched him sleep, she wished she could remember what it felt like to sleep like that. Of course, it would be nice if he’d sleep longer than four or five hours at a time, but at least when he did sleep, he slept hard. “So,” she said, focusing, “we have some good information. It seems like we can possibly separate both Carter and the settlers from the majority of the Angels.”

“I hate freaking calling them that.
It makes me want to puke.” Sara stuck her tongue out and gagged.

“I know,” Fi agreed.
“Should we just call them Lobos ourselves?”

“Definitely
. I vote yes on proposition ‘call it like it is.’”

“It’s a deal, Sar.
Lobos for life.”

“
Don’t you mean ‘Lobos for death?’” Her whisper was fierce.

“True,” Fi smiled grimly. “If we can just take out the ones at the east end by his cabin. How many were there?”

“
Five. Plus the eight on the cliff.”

“You mean the ones with our
AKs?”

“Yeah, t
aking them out will be crucial. Plus the other ninety-three Lobos.” Sara pressed her hands to her temples. “Now the question is, how do we get this information back to our people? With all those guards on the cliffs, it’s going to be hard to send a message in a bottle like we’d thought.”

“Yeah
, that’s a problem.”

“And we have to stall
Carter too.”

“One problem at a time
, Sara. One problem at a time.

My Blood is My Truth

------------ Carter ------------

“My blood is my truth,” Carter intoned, reveling in yet another Baptism Day. They always cheered him up. Something about all that soul-baring ritual and blood, the way that people fell apart and let him rebuild them.
It was warming to know they were in the palm of his hand
, he thought, enjoying the pun.

The
younger of the two sisters, Sara, stood on the milk crate above the gathered, her newly bobbed ebony hair shining in the shaft of light from the skylights above. Dr. Rossi raised his scalpel and it glinted. Carter caught a flinch in his peripheral vision, but it wasn’t from Sara, it was from Marie, seated in the circle of onlookers at Sara’s feet. The corners of her eyes pinched as the scalpel bit into her sister’s flesh, the red blood bubbling up pure and hot.

Not that he was surprised
. No matter the Truther’s enthusiasm for this ritual, no one liked to see it happen to their loved ones. That was the beauty of it, he thought, once you put someone through something like that…something that barbaric, well, it stood to reason that they would
believe
that much more, didn’t it?

And
it also stood to reason that once someone had gone through that, they’d insist that the others do it as well. For a moment his eyes flicked to Silas, standing against the far wall with his arms folded over his chest, his weapon slung behind him.

“My blood is my truth.”
Sara’s voice was calm as she repeated Carter’s words.

With the exception of tiny beads of sweat at her brow,
he wouldn’t have believed that a man was slicing into her hand right at this very moment.
That
was surprising. He’d never seen anyone come through the ritual like this, still as stone, quiet as a lake at dawn, without a ripple to suggest pain or sorrow…or anything. It almost made him fear her, for a moment.

But n
o, he thought, shaking it off, she was just trying to prove herself. That must be it. That was why she’d said all that silly stuff in her confessions about smoking pot once and kissing boys. Though he had to admit, the gasps she’d elicited had been so amusing that he’d bitten the inside of his cheeks raw to keep from laughing.

What a strange crew he’d assembled.
The Angels gasped in delight, happy to hear something with even a tinge of scandal, while the Truthers gasped in shock, so prim and proper that they’d forgotten the pre-Famine world, a world where nudity had been a commodity and a little backseat groping wouldn’t even have registered in the societal consciousness. How he’d managed to pull those two poles together into a united effort was a mystery, even to him.

And yet, perhaps every yin need
ed its yang in this world. Like the sisters. His gaze dropped once more to Marie, grimacing and bouncing her tiny son in her lap. Even though they came from the same family and upbringing, Marie was soft and kind and quiet, whereas Sara…she was quiet, but it wasn’t the reassuring kind of quiet. He met Sara’s eyes, staring into those still, dark orbs, her blood pooling in her hand. She was the perfect addition to his island of misfit toys.

It was too bad that he wouldn’t live to see the fruits of all these labors, he thought, almost somberly, as he reached for his worn Bible.
He’d enjoy seeing his influence spread across the world, like Jesus. He frowned. Or maybe more like L. Ron Hubbard.
Unless that guy actually believed any of the crap he wrote
, he thought. Regardless, he wouldn’t see the outcomes of all these machinations: the rituals, the sermons, the “Movement.” Because the clock was ticking on him too.

One day he would have his revenge, full and complete, like a last meal to
a dying prisoner. It would heal him, sealing up all his holes and cracks, the savage, charred wreckage of a man annihilated. He would take the Liars down, one by one, and then when he was done, when he was as stuffed as a human being could be on eyes and teeth stolen back, he would finally walk back to edge of that cliff, and this time he’d just keep walking.

------------ Fi --------------

Fi’s heart was pounding so hard that it felt like her sternum would crack, but Sara didn’t even
flinch
. She pressed her bleeding palm to the stained, leather-bound Bible offered by Carter.
Yech,
Fi thought. Not only was this ritual insane, it was unsanitary.

“N
ow it’s Marie’s turn.”

Carter
gestured as Sara stepped down to the sound of quiet applause. Dr. Rossi began wrapping her hand. Fi took a deep breath and handed Luke to Nona before stepping up onto the crate. She squinted in the light before turning back to face the crowd. As her vision adjusted, her hands grew clammy.

The place was
filled to the brim with Truthers. They perched prissily on benches and chairs, dotting every table, shelf, and inch of floor space. Their bobbed heads gave the impression of mushrooms littering a forest floor.
They’d all done this
, she thought.
Just like Silas said. They’d all bled.
The cover of Carter’s Bible was black with their “Truth.”

She swallowed hard
, forging ahead. “I’ve been vain,” she began, “that’s why I already wear my hair short.” Her fingers fluttered toward her raven curls. There were murmurs of approval.
Good
. She and Sara had thought that one would go over well when they planned their confessions. “I’ve also been guilty of pursuing Science.” At this, there were gasps. “Yes,” she said, making her voice small. “When I was a child in school I loved Science, and I told my parents that one day I wanted to study genetics.”

Another round of gasps.
Yeah
, she thought.
Heaven forbid.
She worked her way through her other handful of confessions: trying Moonshine (one thing she hadn’t actually done), marrying a Christian of another denomination (sort of true), and finally…

“I didn’
t appreciate my parents enough when I had them.” To her surprise, hot tears filled her eyes. Memories rushed through her in a torrent: her mother’s loving groans at her jokes, her father’s astronomy lessons, the way her parents danced in the living room to the oldest of old songs. She choked. “…I didn’t appreciate them enough and now they’re gone.”

She
looked out over the crowd as the tears streamed down her cheeks and saw the glimmer of tears reflected in many eyes. Carter stepped up with a smile that Fi supposed was meant to be reassuring, but somehow came off predatory, like the crocodile sizing up the unsuspecting gazelle.

“
As you know,” he explained, “Marie’s blood ritual is scheduled for a later date. I think she’s shared her true confessions with us today. What say you, Truthers?”

The room erupted in a roar of
“Ayes,” and Fi was suddenly surrounded by a swarm of Truthers, all wanting to touch her, to shake her hand, to hug her. It was madness. From her perch on the milk crate, she stood above the swirl like a boulder in an eddy. And like the boulder, she was made of stone, still and unyielding. It hurt to give them this…this one true feeling that broke her heart. It was something she’d come up with when she and Sara were brainstorming, but she hadn’t thought it would make her cry. Not in front of
them
.

Nona stepped in
with Luke, helping her down from the crate. “That was beautiful, Marie,” she said, wiping at her eyes as she handed back Luke.

This was why
, Fi thought, clutching her son to her chest. Yes, she’d given away a real part of her heart. But she’d had to. She had to make it real. She had to make them pity her. She had to make them love her.

Sara pushed
to her side and wrapped her arms around both Fi and Luke. “Amazing, ‘Marie,’” she whispered. “You did great.”

“You too,” Fi murmured, kissing Sara’s cheek.
“How’s your hand?”

“Stings like a mothershucker.”
This was the barest of whispers. She glanced to her left and then coughed and pulled away. “But I think we may have stolen someone else’s thunder.” There was a new lilt in her voice, a teasing sing-song. Confused, Fi followed her gaze to the Rooney twins, who were glaring at them, their faces the same shade of furious crimson, their arms folded across their flat chests just exactly the same, right over left. “Tweedledee and Tweedledum seem awfully pissed.”

Fi
clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laugh. Poor Mary and Megan. They were both standing to the side as Truthers literally pushed each other to get to Sara and Fi. “We’re just the flavor of the month, Sar,” she giggled. All the while, she and Sara were repeating “Thank you” and “Truth be with you,” to those congratulating them.

Carter
jumped onto the crate. “Easy, Truthers! Everyone will get a chance to meet Sara and Marie. Now it’s time for us all to get back to our duties,” he added.

There was a disappointed groan, but the crowd finally began to thin.
One of the Lobos who Fi knew worked in the watchtowers pushed forward. He was short and squat with a pockmarked face and haphazard teeth.

“Congratulations,” he
said, his tone more sneer than salutation. “By the way, Sara…” He cocked an eyebrow. “…that was some interesting stuff you shared.”

“Back of
f, Mouth.” Silas appeared, steering him away by the elbow. “Get back to your post.”