The Shattered Genesis (Eternity) (78 page)

             
“Alright, Andy. You do not have to do anything that you do not want to do.” I looked at James and tried to convey what I was thinking. Somehow, I was able to manage it, because he nodded in response to my silent qu
estion. “We have a prisoner. We stole him from a large group of natives that live in a cave a few miles back.”

             
“The cave people are bad. That’s what Adam said.”

             
“You have spoken to Adam?”

             
“Don joined up with him. That’s why there are…” He pointed at the
bodies. “They aren’t just other survivors.”

             
“We need to speak to Don.”

             
Andy nodded and wiped his eyes quickly. He wanted to erase any indication of his emotional outburst. I assumed that Don would not take kindly to one of his “soldiers” breaking down i
nto a fit of guilt and regret. I gently clasped his arm, surprising myself with that moment of kindness. No non-family member had ever witnessed my caring nature, which barely existed in silence let alone in visible action.

             
“I’m Brynna, but I am sure you
know that.” He nodded, “This is my…” I trailed off, not knowing how to describe James still despite how far we had come together, “This is James.”

             
I had to forgive myself just once for taking the easy way out of a conversational hardship.

             
He looked betwe
en us and smiled ever so slightly.

             
“Anyone from Earth is alright with me. After all of this…” He shuddered slightly, “Come with me. I’ll take you to Don.”

XXX

             
We were led by Andy to a towering wall made from smooth, old rock. Vines slashed their way
across its surface so that the whole structure camouflaged into the surrounding forest. After walking several feet, Andy pulled back a particularly thick patch of vines that held beautifully shaped pink flowers.

             
“Don't let them fool you.” Andy told me as
he used his knife to pull back the vines. “The second you touch them, they shoot a barb from inside straight into your eye. If you manage to avoid that, they get you with this weird white smoke that kills you in seconds.”

             
Without even addressing exactly w
hat he had said, I looked at James.

             
“Do you think Penny...”

             
“No,” He held my hand to comfort me, “Her instincts will stop her, sweetheart. Besides, I doubt there are any more around here...”

             
“That's not true, actually. There's a whole tree where they gr
ow around the trunk about a quarter mile from where we're standing.”

             
“Let's not talk about that.” James said firmly and when I went to continue, he grasped my face and shook his head to warn me against speaking further on the subject of Penny, Violet and
Elijah.

             
A door meticulously fashioned from old stones was revealed to us once Andy had safely moved all of the vines away with his knife. A small window at the top of the door was pushed open and an eye appeared; it looked between the three of us in sligh
t alarm before the door swung open without a word from the mysterious gatekeeper. In fact, when we walked through, we did not even see him. When I looked up the long, dirt path we were to travel, I saw at the end a colossal Gothic mansion that had to be as
old as the planet itself. It was in that house that Don and his people had taken shelter.

             
I surveyed the grounds, noticing that people were busily farming on either side of the path. I did not know exactly what they were growing, but I did note that two
men sat in chairs on both sides, lazily observing the work being done. My brows furrowed and I looked at James, finding my own confusion reflected in his eyes.

             
“How big is this place?”

             
“The house or the grounds?” Andy asked quietly. His gaze was diverted
to the ground so he could easily avoid looking at the people working.

             
“Both.” James and I answered simultaneously.

             
“The house is bigger than any Hollywood mansion back home, I can tell you that. It’s big enough to house all of the people who came with D
on.”

             
“And the grounds?”

             
“They stretch on for miles. The ground is really fertile, Don says. So we’re planting our own stuff. We’re all responsible for feeding ourselves, but some has to be given to Don and his people…” He trailed off, perhaps sensing tha
t this information was not meant to be divulged so freely.

             
“Cool. Thanks.” James said in an easy tone that was meant to let Jonathon know discreetly that it was alright to end the conversation. I squeezed his hand. He was proving to be an invaluable asset
in those complicated situations that always seemed to be cropping up; those particular moments that I could not squirm my way out of were as unwelcome as weeds in a lavish garden but luckily, James was there to keep everything cut and polished.

             
“I have a
bad feeling.” I whispered to him almost inaudibly. I pointed to my chest quickly. “Something ominous is lurking close, James.”

             
James shook his head and turned mine so that I was looking at him.

             
“You have nothing to be afraid of, Brynn. I promise.”

             
“James, this just does not feel...”

             
“I know. But I've got you, sweetheart.”

             
That was all the reassurance I needed.

             
Andy pushed the door open and a torrent of cold air that smelled of dust and ruin rushed towards us. I huddled closer to James, though my
need for a closer proximity to him had little to do with the chill in the air. There were more people in the corridors and huge, sprawling rooms of the mansion. They were busy pulling vines down that had invaded the house and covered the walls from outside
. Some were even patching windows and floorboards. I watched two kids a few years older than Penny as they swept the floor, giggling softly all the while as they observed James and me.

             
Besides being slightly disturbed by witnessing that instance of child
labor, I was pleased to see that there was no gender divide; both men and women were cleaning and farming. I had no idea at the time why I cared about something so incredibly trivial but the reason would become apparent later. In the moment, I chalked it u
p to the unapologetic feminism I had always embraced as long as I had known to have an opinion on the matter.

             
When we reached the top of the creaking staircase, Andy led us through a corridor lined with  chestnut walls and white doors. As we walked, the m
aroon rug that ran the length of the hallway coughed dust up from under her feet. I sneezed four times, trying to stifle the sound by covering my mouth but still, it bounced off the walls in an endless echo.

             
“Bless you for the rest of the day.” James said
quietly after my fifth sneeze.

             
“Thank you.” I muttered after wrapping my arms around one of his to avoid holding his hand. He did not share my mild germophobic tendencies but still, I wanted to be courteous at the very least.

             
Andy raised a shaking hand
to knock on the door before us. He cast his eyes downward once again when a male voice instructed us to enter.

             
Don Abba was certainly not what I was expecting. Though I had been informed by Nick that he was a humble man with little to say, I still
expected one who led a group of terrified survivors to be terrifying, himself.

             
James was of a decent height, but he certainly was not gigantically tall, where I had to possibly suffer a neck injury each time I looked up at him. But the top of Don Abba’s h
ead barely reached James's chin. There was a certain alarm constantly present in his large blue eyes; they darted from me, to James, to Andy, and back again in record rapidity. After all he had seen and experienced in order to safely bring those he was inv
oluntarily responsible for there to safety, I could forgive his skittishness. His hands shook as they spun a feather quickly over his fingers. He was clean-shaven, leading me to assume that they had devised some kind of shaving technique. Perhaps they even
had some method of showering.

             
“Hello.” He greeted us softly as he rose to his feet slowly. “You’re from Earth. I remember you two, especially. You were the brave souls willing to walk out into the unknown before the rest of us cowards. You were the very
first to volunteer.”

             
There was not a hint of irony in his voice. I could not help but smile softly as I shook his outstretched hand. His modesty and honesty were refreshing even under the uncertain circumstances.

             
“In the interest of full disclosure, I am
going to inform you that I am Daniel Olivier’s daughter. My name is Brynna Olivier.”

             
“I am well aware that you’re his daughter. I’m also well aware that you don’t share his ruthlessness.”

             
I suppressed a small chuckle. Perhaps I did not willingly starve
people as a means of population control. Perhaps I would not cause even the slightest harm, either physical or emotional, to my offspring. But I certainly was ruthless in my own way.

             
“This is my…” I put my hand on James’s arms but stopped short once again
when I attempted to come up with the right term for what James was in relation to me. I did not want to frighten him
away by proclaiming anything too serious. I did not want to insult him by downplaying whatever our relationship was to him. I tried again,
hoping the appropriate term would just come tumbling out when the time came for it to be spoken. “This is my…”

             
Nope.

             
“Boyfriend.” James answered for me, and he was smiling slightly in sarcastic triumph as he shook Don's hand, “James Maxwell.”

             
“Yes,” I
positively beamed and grasped his arm, “Boyfriend.”

             
“Very nice to meet you both. Don Abba.” He replied, still in that barely audible voice. But there was genuine enthusiasm present in his tone. He indicated the two intricately designed leather chairs in
front of the polished wooden desk that he was taking his place behind again. “May I ask how you found us? Before you answer,” He held up his hand and looked behind me, where Andy was still standing. “Andy, would you kindly bring these two something to drin
k?”

             
“Thank you.” I muttered awkwardly. We were both reaching the point of dehydration where the symptoms began to slow the body down. We certainly needed all of our wits about us now because though Don Abba was not physically threatening, he had many in h
is house that were. The feeling of unease was still stabbing at my insides and we could not afford to let our guards down or be unable to fight if Don suddenly turned on us.

             
“So, you were telling me how you found us.”

             
Neither of us had given even the be
ginning of an answer, actually, but I chose not to call his attention to that. In order to appear cooperative, I answered without a fight.

             
“We found you because we were looking for you. We have been traveling through the woods for days now.”

             
“Yes, you es
caped the campsite after your father very rudely informed you that you would be traded to Adam. Adam is the…”
             

             
“We know who he is.” James informed him crossly. The slight mention of what my father had proposed left him reeling and enraged. I reached over
and grasped his hand when Don looked away.

             
“You do?” Don sounded slightly shocked as he jotted something down with the feather.

             
“Oh, it is a quill…” I mused out loud. I had been slightly bemused as to why the man was carrying around a feather.

             
“Yes,” He
smiled slightly, “I have to keep track of what we’re doing here someway, don’t I?”