The Legend (19 page)

“I came for a drink.”

“A drink?”

“Yeah, Tiny. A drink. You got a problem with that?”

“No,” I brush it off lightly, but in truth I am wondering who he met. I know that there is a small tavern in town. Jessie is a regular customer. “Who did you meet?” I ask casually.

“That would be telling,” he replies shrewdly, seeing straight through my unconcerned ruse. “We'd better get going,” he adds.

“Hi, Rebecca!” Crackerjack, a close friend of Aidan's, calls out as we pass his table.

“Hey, Crackerjack! How are things going?”

“Good,” he nods, checking items off a list. “Busy . . . Adam is like a man possessed. I swear he won't rest until he finds every single lost soul in the country.”

“He won't have much time for that when we install him as President of the New United States.”

“Oh, he'll find time,” Crackerjack differs. “There's nothing more important to him.”

“Well, at least we can get him better resources,” I smile. “Just imagine what he could do with the might of NUSA behind him.”

“You ready to go?” Reed interrupts and I nod, all thoughts of Adam and NUSA fleeing in my excitement at seeing my son.

“Lizzie,” I pop my head around the classroom door and get Alex's teacher's attention. School started a few minutes ago. “Do you mind if we borrow Brooke and Alex?”

“Not at all.” She smooths her long braid nervously, blushing as red as her hair as Reed gives her a dazzling grin.

The minute Alex reaches me he throws his small arms around my legs.

“I'm sorry, Mom,” he murmurs thickly into my stomach, sounding much more like the Alex I know and love.

“That's okay, champ.” I rub his back, relieved. It seems Aidan was right – Alex has already moved on and there is no trace of the angry, sullen child of yesterday.

Alex and Brooke are delighted to be getting out of lessons, and they scamper ahead of us towards the park.

“Norman keeps it in good working order for the children,” Reed explains, as I express my wonder at the beauty of the park. “He has done since I was a kid, I think he feels it's the least the children in town deserve . . .” He stops talking and gazes down at the little girl who has taken his hand.

“Wanna come on the merry-go-round with me?” Brooke asks, and the emotion on Reed's face is so touching that I feel as though I am intruding on an intensely private moment. That is, until Brooke grabs my hand too.

“C'mon, Mom!” Alex hollers, spinning on the merry-go-round. “I'll push you!”

Round and round we spin, the children's laughter echoing through the park. It is a rare and beautiful moment, the sun warming our skin and the infectious good spirits of Alex and Brooke allowing me to forget everything else. Alex is completely back to normal, and I am delighted that his outburst yesterday was a rare exception to his usually happy disposition.

“Thank God for that,” Reed drawls as the children finally tire of pushing us and dart over to the swing set. “I thought I was going to be sick.” He trails his foot over the edge of the merry-go-round, slowly bringing us to a complete standstill. I lie back on the warm wood and close my eyes.

“She's just like you, you know,” I murmur sleepily.

“How so?” He doesn't need to ask who I am referring to.

“She's brave, loyal, and fiercely protective. Elizabeth told me she kicked another boy in the shin for calling Alex a liar.” I peek through one slitty eye and smile at the expression of pride on his face.

“Why'd he call Alex a liar?” he asks suddenly.

“Because Alex said he'd been to the moon.”

His rumbling laughter sets me off, and I chuckle too. “She shouldn't have done it, then,” he points out. “Kid was right.”

“She doesn't care. Right or wrong, she'll defend Alex. I told you – she's just like you.”

“You know, I might not defend you if you were wrong, Tiny. You're being presumptuous.”

“You would,” I reply with absolute certainty, but without a trace of arrogance. “What was it like, growing up here?”

“I guess like anywhere else in the Rebeldom – hard. We went hungry a lot in the beginning. It got worse when Eric Dane took over. A lot of people out here thought he would be our saviour. When he built the fences, many lost all hope.”

“Eric was a monster,” I sit up, leaning back against the metal bars, “but I don't think he intended to do harm. He believed he was doing what was best – that he was ensuring mankind's survival. Sacrificing a few to save many.”

“Actually, he sacrificed many to save a few.”

“He didn't see it that way.”

“You believe that?”

“No . . . but he did.”

“What was it like being married to him?” Reed has never questioned me about my time with Eric and I squirm a little under his intense scrutiny.

“It wasn't all bad,” I admit. “I certainly never wanted for anything. Growing up in Michigan was much like everywhere else – food was scarce, people got sick . . . they died . . .” I trail off, remembering my mother. “That all changed when Eric created NUSA. Things got better. We were finally assured that we would survive, so long as the radiation was kept out – that the Deranged and the Rados were kept away. It was easier to believe than to argue. When we got married, I lived a fairy tale. Anything I wanted – food, clothes, luxuries – it was all too readily available. Had I never learned the truth, I would have believed I was the luckiest girl in the world. Instead, everything I had was a reminder of how lost and needy those living out in the Rebeldom were. It made me angry, and made me hate him even more.”

“Do you think he loved you?”

“With hindsight, yes, I do. Eric didn't trust easily, he was naturally suspicious and very guarded. Getting into his good graces was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.”

“So he didn't just fall for you, like the rest of us mere mortals?” He opens his eyes wide in mock disbelief.

“No,” I laugh. “I spent months researching Eric – his likes, his dislikes. I knew exactly what to say, and how to attract his attention. Even then, I wasn't sure I would succeed.”

“Would have been a bit of a disaster if you'd failed.”

“I almost did. There was another woman vying for his affections. Truth be told, I think ultimately he would have chosen her over me. She certainly loved him more.”

“So, what changed?”

“She was caught with another man – a good friend of Eric's.”

“Really?”

“The Resistance did what it always did. It removed the threat and took her out of the equation. A lot of people who may have stood between me and Eric were strategically dealt with.”

“I never realised how much planning must have gone into it.”

“You assumed he simply fell for me, like the rest of you mere mortals?” I grin.

“Not that far of a reach,” he replies, absolutely serious.

 

 

chapter 28

I
t is mid-morning when we take the children back to class. Reed hugs Alex warmly, which gives him an excuse to hug Brooke too. I notice how he buries his face in her neck, rubbing her back, and I smile sadly. Alex says goodbye quite unconcernedly, and I make sure to treat him exactly as I usually would. There is no point in trying to mollycoddle him or to treat him with kid gloves. As much as I need him to know that I love him, I also do not want him mistaking my empathy for weakness. He needs to know that I mean business.

“The sooner this is over, the better,” I muse as we jog back towards the Academy. “You need to be able to be her father.”

“I don't know. Don't you think it's too much to burden her with? Maybe she's better off not knowing. She's coping so well, adapting – why rock the apple cart?”

“Because she deserves to know,” I insist, speaking from experience. Discovering that my own father was alive after nineteen years of believing him dead was a shock, yes, but it was still one of the best things that had ever happened to me. Learning that I had real family out there, blood relatives, went some way to alleviating the pain of my mother's loss.

“What if she's disappointed?”

I slow to a walk. We are almost back at the Academy gates. “How could she be? You're the bravest, smartest, sexiest man I know.”

He looks serious for just a moment before reverting to his usual flippancy. “I don't know if she'll really agree with you on that last one.”

“Yeah, probably not. Doesn't stop it being true, though.”

“If I'm all that, why do I feel like I'm losing you to the competition?” he asks suddenly and I am brought up short.

“Is that what you think? It's not true, Reed.” I take half a step towards him and then catch myself. “I would never . . . he's not . . . you're both very important to me,” I finish lamely.

“Very eloquent, Tiny.” He lets me off the hook. “Why don't you try to negotiate with NUSA? With those skills we could probably end this war over a cup of tea.”

I pull a face, relieved at the light turnabout in conversation, but before I can retort Reed's eyes narrow in alarm at something over my shoulder.

“Oh shit,” he curses and I spin around looking for the cause of his distress. I see nothing – no one is approaching from the road and a quick scan of the area reveals nothing but a few thunderheads rolling in from the south.

“What?” I ask.

“We're in for a storm.”

“So?” I look at the clouds in the distance. They are irregular, a shelf-like, anvil shaped dome rising above the cloud bank. “They're just clouds,” I mutter.

“You ain't lived in Georgia, Tiny. Those aren't just any clouds. There's a superstorm headed our way.”

“What, like a tornado?” I ask in disbelief, my heart beating faster. A tornado would definitely be something to worry about.

“No,” he scoffs, giving me a look that plainly states I should spend more time in the library. “But we're going to be in for rain. A
lot
of rain.”

“I don't mind getting a little wet,” I reply nonchalantly.

The storm hits us a few hours later, and I suddenly find that I do mind. I have never seen rain like this – it pelts down in an icy deluge, so dense that it is almost impossible to venture outdoors. If the torrential rain isn't enough to deal with, the wind is almost as destructive. We hole up inside the Academy buildings and for the first time I truly understand how poorly equipped we are in the Rebeldom. Being without power and having limited supplies is bad enough, but the lack of maintenance becomes apparent as large portions of the Academy start to leak as a result of the violent downpour. The rain seeps through the ceilings, flooding much of our living space. Despite the fires we have lit, it is excruciatingly cold and everything is damp.

As people start to gather in the main buildings, seeking the comfort of a crowd, I make my way through the deluge to Jupiter's semi. Leaping up onto the footboard, I open the door without knocking and shut it behind me. Jupiter is reading a manual, apparently unconcerned by the heavy rain. He has one arm lounging along the back of the sofa, and his legs are crossed at the knee. Sam is huddled beside him, dozing.

“Where's Lydia?” I ask.

“She's with your lot, I presume,” Jupiter states, as if that should be obvious. Patrick and Randall are nowhere to be seen either, but I assume they must be in the truck cab.

“Are you two okay?” I ask.

Jupiter looks up at me, and then his gaze fixes on the water streaming off me and pooling on the floor at my feet.

“Obviously, we're fine,” he replies coolly, “or we would have come looking for you.” The insinuation is clear – I am not welcome right now.

“Well, you're both welcome to join us inside,” I offer, thinking that the chance of that is unlikely. They are far better off here than in the dilapidated buildings of the Academy.

“Thank you,” Jupiter goes back to his reading and with nothing left to say, I head back into the rain.

One by one, the buildings start to flood and we are forced out into the elements to try to dig trenches to divert the rainwater away from the doorways, and to move our belongings to safer territory. Through it all, my concern for Alex mounts until I cannot take it any longer.

“I need to get to town,” I tell my father. “The damn radios aren't working.”

We have a few two-way radios that we use to communicate with the town in case of emergency, but the storm's interference is giving us nothing but static. A few of us are holed up in the library, trying in vain to dry off. I am soaked through, having just returned from outside. We had moved all our dry foodstuffs into the dining hall when it was discovered that the storage room had developed a large leak. It has been only a few hours and the rain shows no sign of abating any time soon; if anything, it is getting worse.

“They will be fine, Bex,” he soothes.

“But what if it floods . . .”

“They've seen enough of these storms over the years,” my dad interrupts. “In fact, they're better prepared than we are. Alex will be safe and sound – Cathy and the others will make sure of it.”

“He's right,” Reed adds, addressing both me and Aidan, who is pacing up and down in front of us, his own concern for Alex making it impossible for him to settle down. Reed, on the other hand, is lounging against a desk near the fire.

“You really think so?”

“I know so. Like your dad said, the townsfolk are very prepared. I'd rather be down there than here.”

“Have you ever seen a storm this bad?” I ask and he lifts his eyes to the ceiling.

“This is a big one but, yeah, I've seen worse.”

“And you're sure they'll . . .”

“They will be fine,” he cuts across me. “I promise.”

I try to settle down, keeping a wary eye on Aidan, who is probably going to wear down the faded tiles with his relentless pacing. He understands, I think to myself, because he also has a child down there. Then, with a pang of guilt, I remember Brooke and my anxiety eases slightly. There must be some truth in his words because Reed would never stay away if she were in any real danger.

A commotion at the door distracts us, and we all turn as Jethro enters, shaking the water from his dark hair.

“The bank near the drive is sliding away,” he tells us immediately. “We need to move the cars.”

Grateful for something to do to keep my mind off Alex, I join the others as we rush towards the door.

“Jupiter!” I bang on the side of the container, and his head appears at the door above me. “You're going to have to move – the bank is being washed away.” He nods, making to move down the steps, but I wave him back inside. “I'll tell them!” I yell, as the incessant rain runs into my mouth. There is no point Jupiter getting soaked too.

“Thank you!” he yells against the wind and I move to the front of the truck as he closes the door. As I suspected, Patrick and Randall are inside the cab.

“You need to move away from this bank.” I point down to it. “It's eroding pretty quickly. Find somewhere safer to park.” Patrick nods grimly and Randall starts the engine as I leap down to the ground and race back to the others.

It doesn't take long, but every second out in the deluge is agony. I feel only relief when my body finally becomes too numb to register the cold, but getting my fingers to work is torture, and I can barely manage the gear shift as I move a Range Rover out of harm's way. As soon as the cars are moved to higher ground, we turn our attention to the bank itself. The incessant rain is eroding the soil, and half of the bank has already cleaved away. Ignoring the water dripping from my nose and chin, I look around for something to support it. The bank itself is of no concern but without it the entire top section of the drive could wash away.

“Rocks!” David shouts in my ear, trying to be heard above the raging storm. “We need rocks! It won't stop it, but it might slow it down. There is some old mesh fencing around the tennis courts that we can use to make a gabion.”

I nod, signalling a few of the others to go with David in search of the mesh and then I call Reed and Aidan over.

“We need rocks!” I yell, helplessly. Where the hell does David expect me to find rocks in this weather?

“What about the lake?” Aidan offers, but Reed shakes his head.

“It's too far, we'll never bring enough back in time.”

“What is it?” I ask. I know that look in his eye – it usually means he is about to do something crazy.

“I'm sorry about your car,” he yells at Jethro, whose eyes widen in surprise.

“What about my car?” Jethro says, but Reed is already sprinting back towards one of the stolen NUSA Humvees.

“Oh, he wouldn't!” Jethro groans, as the sound of the engine reaches us through the howling wind. Reeds guns the engine and then turns the Humvee to the left, lurching forward and heading straight for one of the smaller ablution blocks that we seldom make use of.

“He's insane! He . . .” Aidan shouts, but I do not hear the rest because the Humvee collides with the side of the small brick building with an almighty bang, much harder than I had anticipated, and the nose of the Humvee goes straight through, causing a mini avalanche of brick and rubble to roll down over the black hood.

Reed emerges through the back window; the front doors have been wedged closed by the debris surrounding the front of the car. He appears unscathed, but as I draw closer I spot a nasty gash on his temple and he sways slightly, grabbing the window frame for support.

“You are an asshole!” I shriek, shaking my head.

“You wanted rocks, Sexy Bex, you got rocks.”

He's right, of course, and there is no time to lecture him. Instead, I bend and lift a large chunk of broken brick and plaster and carry it back towards the bank.

It is back-breaking work and steam rises from our bodies as sweat mingles with the rainwater soaking us through. Michael in particular is struggling, his speed no use to him in this situation, but he moves steadily back and forth, carrying smaller stones which are being used to fill the spaces between the larger boulders. We work laboriously, not stopping to rest as we carry heavy load after heavy load across to David who has his own team, including Kwan, working on constructing the gabion. One by one, they create square-like mounds of rubble, which they secure in the mesh cages. David is angling the gabion baskets towards the slope of the bank, and then one by one they are pushed against it. Aidan leaps down to assist, adding his strength to help shift the heavy cages. The next layer is stepped back towards the slope rather than being stacked vertically. I can see the genius of the design – the gabions are supporting the bank while still allowing for drainage so that the water doesn't dam up against them. They are effective, though rudimentary, but considering the terrible conditions we are working in, I am amazed.

The rain does not let up and my fingers are so numb with cold that every touch burns, and they cramp painfully as I curl them underneath the heavy debris. My hair is slicked against my face, whipping painfully into my eyes every time the wind howls, and my jaw aches from incessant chattering.

Reed, despite his injury – which I am starting to suspect might be a mild concussion – is still able to carry more than any of us. He has always been the strongest of us all, and apparently his brain in no way affects his brawn.

“Please go inside,” I plead as I pass him heading back to the pile of rubble.

“No,” he snaps, as if the very idea is absurd.

Eventually David declares that we have done enough and, with a sigh of relief, I drop the boulder I am holding.

“You,” I grab Reed by his sleeve, “you're coming with me.” As I steer him in the direction of the library he bends over and throws up.

“Whoops!” he stares at the ground in confusion.

“Oh my God, you
are
concussed. Come on!”

I yank him forward as Aidan appears on his other side. Between the two of us we support him all the way back to the library, where I make him lie down right beside the fire. The gash on his head has stopped bleeding, but he is incredibly pale.

“I think he has a mild concussion,” I tell my father who helps me to prop Reed's head up. “He threw up and he seems confused.”

My dad turns Reed's face towards the fire and stares into his eyes for a moment.

“His pupils aren't equal either. I think you're right. How's your head, big guy?” he asks Reed in a loud, clear voice. Reed winces as if the sound is too much to bear and claps a hand to his temple.

“Definitely a concussion,” my dad chuckles. “But it's mild. His healing would've kicked in already if he hadn't exerted himself. Let him sleep it off.”