Vendetta Nation (Enigma Black Trilogy #2) (9 page)

“And Lord knows they need unfurling,” Ian chimed in.

“Indeed,” Victor said, his voice so sickened it practically sounded like a growl.

“As Victor stated,” Inez spoke up, “we don’t know too much about whether or not our sources are completely accurate. What we do know is that there has been a lot of rioting going on in that area, so chances are good that you’ll come across that in your stakeout.”

“But the good news is that the presence of all of those people may be enough to lure The Man in Black out of hiding,” Brian concluded.

“That’s what we’re hoping for, anyway,” Victor added.

“And even if it doesn’t, you’ll look slightly more stylish while you’re sitting around doing nothing,” Marcus announced, entering the room with a jacket in each hand. “Here you are,” he said, tossing one to both Ian and myself. I had to hand it to Marcus, the material actually felt as though it could shield us, yet it still remained more fashion forward than I believe was originally intended.

“You’re dismissed,” Victor announced.

“C’mon,” Ian grabbed my arm and led me out of the simulation room.

“Someone’s a little too giddy over all of this,” I said, loosening my arm from his grasp.

“Of course I am. I’ve been cooped-up in here for way too long. Not only that, the tension in there was so thick, I thought I was being slowly smothered to death.”

“I’d like to slowly smother Victor to death.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious. Don’t think I didn’t feel the same way.” He sped up down the hall in the direction of the garage at strides that I couldn’t match even if I wanted to. “But then he started speaking and I felt sorry for him. He sounded so frail.”

“He’s anything but, trust me.”

We entered the garage, where Ian surveyed our choices of transportation. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he said.

“You have a very screwed up version of heaven, my friend.”

Ian walked down the first row of cars, selecting a nondescript, metallic gray sedan with chrome rims. As he neared the vehicle, his gait slowed noticeably, and he paused, hunched over, his hand resting on the roof of the car.

“Ian?”

“I think you need to drive,” he stated, pained.

“No,” I rested my hand on his shoulder, “we should call it off so you can rest. You’re overdoing it.”

“It may not be healthy for me to go, but it will kill me if I have to stay here.” He looked up at me, his eyes pleading.

“All right…we’ll go.”

“Thank you,” he said, obviously still in pain.

I keyed in the code to open the car door. Ian opened his door, slowly allowing himself to sink into the vehicle. Shaking my head, I entered after him. “If there is ever a time where you don’t think you can handle this, let me know,” I said without looking at him. “There’s only so much medically I can do, Ian.”

“I know that,” he said quietly. “Look at it this way, if something happens to me, you can go partner shopping again.”

Keying in another code to start the car, I felt a nauseating pain in the depth of my stomach. “Please, don’t say that.”

“Sorry,” he said. I nodded, keeping my gaze focused ahead, while resting my hand on the shifter. “Celaine.” Ian placed his hand on mine. “Look at me.” I complied, meeting his emerald stare. I hadn’t realized before just how long his eyelashes were. They were almost unnaturally long, perfectly framing each eye. “Talk to me.” His voice took on a soothing tone.

“I’ve lost so much, I just, I can’t…” I began, knowing what I wanted to say, but at a loss as to how to go about actually saying it.

“You’ve lost everyone, and you want that cycle to end,” Ian finished my thought. “I’m not going anywhere. I joke, that’s all. I’ve no intentions on keeling over, really.”

“I know,” I said, finally taking my eyes away from his. Shifting the car into drive, I coasted out of the garage, up the ramp and into the evening.

“You know, I always figured you’d want me one of these days, Stevens,” he said.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Grant. Just because I don’t want you dead, doesn’t necessarily mean I’m in love with you.”

We parked the sedan in an alleyway, covering it with bits of garbage and scrap metal to conceal it from whoever may be walking the streets. Although somewhat more populated than where I’d come from, the outskirts of the Capital were eerily sparse save for the feral dog population. Far outnumbering any other visible signs of life, they roamed the alleyway and ramshackle buildings freely.

It was dark, the very definition of pitch black. Like most places, any traces of light had receded from the depths of the city long ago, seeking refuge in those places where hope still lingered. Where that was, I didn’t know.

“This certainly looks like prime target territory,” Ian grumbled, clearly upset.

“How on earth was Norfolk more populated than this?” I asked, searching for an easy way to scale the building we’d parked next to. “This is Brooks’ territory, after all.”

“Norfolk became a party town after the curfew was put into place; a place for people to forget about the chaos around them,” Ian replied. “Hardly anyone truly lives there. Around an hour or so before curfew, the streets clear out and it becomes almost as dead as it is here,
sans
dogs.”

“They were pets,” I said, “left here when their owners moved. If you look, you can see collars on a couple of them.”

“This needs to end…We need to end this,” Ian said, sickened.

“All we can do is hope that we get a crack at it tonight.” I found what I was looking for, a fire escape on the side of the building, and made a jump for it. Behind me, I heard the sound of Ian’s hand hitting the metal as he pulled himself up to catch up to me. When I reached the top of the building, I walked along the edge, peering at the sidewalk and storefronts below.

“Actually,” I began, “this could potentially make for a great target. Look.” I pointed to the sporadic patches of light coming from each of the buildings. “There are more people here than we could have guessed.”

“That’s what I want to hear.” Ian sat down on the edge, gazing out at the dark horizon.

“I thought as much.” I took my helmet off and rested with my back against an antenna. The night, though chilly, remained crystal clear. A moonless sky stood draped over us, lit by pinpoints of light from the host of stars dotting the atmosphere. Admiring the view for the first time in months, I sat in near perfect stillness, searching for the star Chase and I had shared; the last star that completed the handle of the Big Dipper. Chase and our rooftop stargazing invaded my thoughts. Our talks, our plans for the future, all came to light in the darkness, slapping me in the face when I located our chosen star.

It struck me then how the consequences of my choices had completely decimated my plans with Chase. Life itself is nothing but a series of choices. Some choices define who you are, while some remain mere blips on the radar. It’s what you do with the choices presented to you that matters. Had I made the right choice? My certainty of that answer varied each day. At the moment, as I sat staring at my former destiny, my answer quickly became clouded by matters of the heart, jading my assessment.

“Celaine,” Ian called my name, motioning for me to join him without taking his eyes off the view below.

I stood up and walked over to where he stood. “What is it?” I asked.

“Over there,” he replied, pointing to the steady streams of light from countless flashlights flooding the alleyways and pouring over into the street.

“It’s past curfew. Rioters, perhaps?”

“That or the rebels are taking over this dump.”

The rebellion. My thoughts turned to Marshall Leitner, the leader of the rebels, and the mercilessness he showed Lucy. Anger welled up inside me, and I knew that there would be no stopping me if he was down there. He’d be afforded the same courtesies he’d shown my best friend.

“They’re protesters,” Ian stated. “Don’t you hear them chanting? Something about freedom and not having anything else to lose.” We watched the mob march into the streets, their flashlights creating an artificial daylight below us. Above them, the occupants of the surrounding buildings discreetly peeked out of their windows from behind curtains and through blinds, watching, too afraid to join those on the street in their outright defiance. “This is a far cry from the riots the news has been showing. It seems more like a peaceful protest.”

“Leave it to Brooks to put his own spin on things. Those who oppose him can’t be shown as being reasonable. It’ll screw up everything he’s worked so hard to dominate.”

Then we heard them; the scrape of their boots against pavement, the sound of metal on metal, of guns bouncing against armor in time with each of their footsteps. Soldiers, decked out in personal body armor, complete with helmets, the likes of which I hadn’t seen before, were marching toward the protesters, guns drawn, aimed at anyone and no one.

Ian glanced at me, and I nodded my understanding. Poising ourselves along the edge, we jumped off the building in unison, plummeting to the ground and the chaos erupting below.

*****

“Thanks for letting me stay here tonight, Mom,” Chase said, passing the meatloaf to his father. “Apartment hunting isn’t going exactly as planned.”

“You’re our son, we’re kind of obligated not to let you go homeless,” Jim chuckled.

“Love you too, Dad.”

“To be honest with you,” Carrie began, “we much prefer to have you here than in town. It seems things are worsening there every day.”

“Yeah,” Chase answered. “I believe they are. Hope Memorial’s numbers have been down drastically since the bombing.”

Carrie winced. “Don’t mention that, please. The thought of you in that building just about makes me have a stroke every time.”

“I’m an adult now, Mom. My whole existence is replete with enough danger to land you in the ICU if you think about it.”

“Not funny, dear.”

“Besides,” Chase said, “something good came out of the whole ordeal.”

A groan erupted from the opposite end of the table. “MaKayla,” Carrie warned.

“Where is Paige tonight?” Jim asked.

“She’s working with Paul at the shop this evening. They had a couple of last minute orders for parts that they needed to fill before they could close. The way things are right now, you can’t turn down customers.”

“You mean, she actually works?” MaKayla mumbled.

“Seriously, that’s enough out of you tonight,” Carrie admonished.

“What?” MaKayla replied. “I was unaware that she worked. It’s refreshing news, actually.”

“Seriously, are you done now? Chase set his fork down, becoming agitated.

“Oh, yes, I’m done. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, getting up from the table, “I have homework.”

“MaKayla…” Jim began in vain. Her footsteps thundered up the stairs, dramatic and heavy, followed by the slam of a door loud enough to rattle the windows.

“Still not a fan, huh?” Chase asked sarcastically.

“She’ll come around, hun,” Carrie said, almost apologetically.

“No. No, she won’t.” Chase pushed his chair away from the table. “I’m going to go talk to her,” he said before heading up the stairs.

“Good luck,” Jim called out after him. “She’s been like this since last summer.”

Chase knocked on MaKayla’s door, unsure of how to approach his sister. “Please, go away,” she answered behind its wooden exterior.

“Come on, MaKayla. Open the door for your favorite brother.” Silence greeted him on the other side. “Okay, how about opening it for your own flesh and blood, then?” He waited for a moment, hoping she would respond. When he was again met with silence, he tried opening the door himself. Just as he expected, it was locked. “Look, Paige isn’t going away, and pretty soon, when you want to see me again, you’re going to have to go to her house to do it. So maybe we should make amends now.”

Behind the door, he heard the same heavy footsteps, though they fell more hurriedly than they had previously. A smirk overcame his face as the footsteps stopped at the door, while the lock was swiftly turned, and the door flung open. “You’re moving in with her!” He’d been prepared for her to be upset, but she seemed to be well beyond that point at the moment. “How could you?” she began again. “You and Celaine didn’t even live together, and you’re moving in with
her
?”

“First of all, her name is Paige, and you need to begin addressing her as such. Secondly, my and Celaine’s living arrangements weren’t due to any lack of trying on my part.” She glared at him, unmoved. “May I please come in so we can talk?”

She continued to glare at him, her lips pursed, only relenting when he turned to walk back down the stairs. “All right, you can come in.”

“Thank you.” He followed her into her room, closing the door behind him. She slumped down onto her bed, covering her face with her hands. “Listen, MaKayla, I understand that you miss Celaine. I get it, okay. But that doesn’t mean that you can treat Paige the way you have been, or me for that matter. If I choose to move in with her, I choose to move in with her. She’s a part of my life now, and you need to get used to that idea.”