Vigo's Lament: A Dystopian Thriller (Age of End Book 3) (4 page)

Dana shrugged. “I suppose.”

“I hear the news stories from the Eastern District. He’s been attacking neighborhoods. Wiping out anyone who’s ever worked for Greene.”

“They say he’s looking for a girl. I don’t know who this girl is, but she’s the reason for all of this madness.”

Trish lowered her head. “Yes, I’ve heard that too. He’s never going to find her, though.”

They reached unit three and Dana opened the door to a room filled with a fresh garlic scent. “She’s out there somewhere. They’re bound to find her eventually.”

“No,” Trish whispered to herself. “They won’t.”

“What are you two going on about?” Warren said from around the corner.

Dana entered the kitchen and pecked a kiss on his cheek. “We’re talking about that girl Simon’s looking for.”

He shook his head. “I don’t understand why that girl is so goddamn important.” He looked to Trish. “You got the vegetables?”

She handed over a bag. “Chopped up and ready to go.”

“Perfect timing.” He poured the chopped vegetables in and stirred. The pan sizzled with an alluring scent. “I’ve seen the posters blowing around the streets. There are so many of them. Is the girl really worth all of this trouble?”

“She must be,” Dana said. “Otherwise, he would let it go.”

“We don’t even know who she is,” he said. “She’s a mystery girl. What, is she like Simon’s daughter or something?”

Trish hesitated and decided not to respond.

“Whoever she is, I hope they find her soon. Too many people are dying because of her.”

“Amen,” Warren said, pouring the veggies onto a plate, next to a pile of chicken and rice. “Let’s eat.”

They carried the food to the dining room and sat around the table. Trish scooted her chair up, admiring the food. “I’m starving. Everything looks wonderful. You’ve really outdone yourself, Warren.”

“That’s my man,” Dana said. “He may be getting old, but his cooking only gets better.”

“Who’s getting old?” Warren said jokingly.

“Oh come on, honey. You’re not fooling anyone. Those hairs are turning gray whether you like it or not.”

They laughed before digging into the food, piling large servings onto individual plates. They were so hungry that they took a break from conversation to enjoy the food.

A few bites in, Trish sipped some water and turned to Warren. “So what were you going on about this morning? You said something about a ceremony.”

“Ah yes. The ceremony. In light of everything that’s happened recently, I think it’s a good idea to have a gathering. A way to honor those that we’ve lost the day the Spire fell. A way to honor Victor Greene.”

“It’s a good idea,” Dana said, taking Warren’s hand in hers. “These last few days have been rough. Many have lost people close to them. They need a way to mourn. This will be a good way for people to support each other.”

“Right,” Warren said. “And it will give us a chance to acknowledge Victor Greene as the great man he was. He helped so many people. He made the City a better place. You of all people should know. You worked closely with him every day. That’s why I want you to speak at the ceremony.”

“Speak?”

“Yes. Nothing too complicated. Say something inspiring. They need to hear from someone who truly knew the man. They need words of hope.”

Trish considered his request. The ceremony was a good idea, but she was not much of a public speaker. “How many people will there be?”

“It’s hard to say, but there’s been a lot of initial interest.”

Trish peered out the window, watching the people wander the streets. “Hmm.”

“It will be easy. Your words don’t need to be life changing. Just say something upbeat. Some of these people are at their worst, and you worked so closely with Mr. Greene. Anything coming from your mouth will cheer them up.”

After some thought, Trish nodded. “Okay. I think I can do that.”

“Great,” Warren said, jumping out of his seat with excitement. “The people really need this ceremony. The City is at its lowest. The Spire falling was the worst thing that could have happened. Simon’s too crazy to be in charge.”

“I blame Vincent Vigo and Saul Shepherd,” Trish said. “Heroes of the Spire? They’re not heroes. They’re traitors. Greene gave them everything. He trusted them, and they stabbed him in the back. It puzzles me why they would ever choose to work with Simon.”

“Because that’s what traitors do,” Dana said. “It’s impossible to pick their minds. Some people just do bad things.”

“That’s right,” Warren said. “And we can’t change what they did to Greene, or what Simon did to the Spire, but we
can
change the future of the City.”

Trish squinted. “Oh, so that’s really why you’re holding this ceremony.”

“Correct. Don’t get me wrong, we will honor Mr. Greene. We will give him the respect he deserves. But this is the perfect opportunity to fire up the people. You’ll get up there and say whatever you have to say. They’ll be so inspired that they’ll want to rip Simon from his throne. Once you’re done speaking, I’ll take a list of recruits. Volunteers to join me in storming the Spire. With enough people, I know we can take it back.”

“How? Do you have a plan?”

“We’ll come up with something. The walls are already down, so it should be as easy as walking through the front doors.”

“It can’t possibly be that easy. He’ll have guards everywhere.”

“True, but not as many as you would think. You’ve seen the news. He’s got his forces sweeping the Eastern District and they only seem to be expanding. I’m willing to bet his guards in the Spire are limited.”

Trish scooped up the last bits of veggies from her plate and popped them in her mouth. “That’s one hell of a chance to take. What if you’re wrong?”

“Then I’m wrong, but at least we put up a fight. Sitting around won’t get us anywhere. If we wait too long, his troops will bleed over from the Eastern district and make their way over here. Once that happens, we don’t stand a chance.”

“It sounds risky,” Dana said, “but it’s the only shot we have. We can’t continue to live in fear. You said it yourself. Simon is on a mission to wipe out anyone connected to the Spire. If we don’t do something soon, we’re as good as dead.”

Trish peered out the window once more. She watched the people sitting on the streets without a home. Warren was right. If they did not do something, they would all die.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll do my best. When I’m done with my speech, they’ll be lining up to fight.”

Warren smiled. “Good. Now who wants dessert?”

SIX

RUPERT WOKE UP to blinding sunlight peeking through the cabin window. He had fallen asleep on the floor beside the bed. Ella and Alan lay next to him. Charlotte and Izzy shared the bed, snuggling close together. Fred was perched at the head of the bed frame. The smell of the wood panels filled his nostrils. The scent was comforting after their long absence. Outside he heard the sound of metal, wedging into loose dirt. He pressed his hands to his face and rubbed his eyes. Despite the hardwood floor, he had gotten a surprisingly refreshing night of sleep. It was nice to sleep in a place away from the Spire.

He got to his feet, making sure not to wake the others, and tiptoed to the window. He glanced outside to see Vince digging a shovel into the ground. Dozens of holes were lined up along the side of the road. The bodies were no longer scattered about, but instead, were each carefully placed beside a hole. Rupert smiled. He stepped outside and quietly shut the door behind him. The brisk air hit his skin. It would take some time to adjust from the warm climate of the City. He pulled his coat around himself and stepped into the road.

“This is good,” he called out. “They will like this.”

Vince looked up and continued digging. “We should respect the dead.”

Rupert walked up to one of the holes and glanced inside. “Indeed. These are deep. You must have been at this all night. Take a rest. I’ll dig for a bit.”

Vince sunk the shovel down. “I’m not tired. But if you really want to help, grab an extra shovel.” He pointed to a pile to his right.

Rupert walked over and picked up a shovel. “Is right here good?”

“Move a little further down. They can’t be too close. The walls will cave in.”

Rupert took a few steps over and pushed his shovel into the ground. “How are you holding up?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“Saul was your oldest friend. It’s okay to be shaken up. We all are.”

Vince threw a shovelful of dirt over his shoulder. “I’m not. He was going to die anyway, even if Simon hadn’t shot him. The bullet in his lung would have killed him.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be upset about it. You knew him your whole life.”

“And for most of that time, I thought he was a psychotic killer.”

“But you were wrong. He wasn’t. He was a good guy. A decent human being. And he was your friend. You say to respect the dead, but what about Saul?”

Vince stopped digging. “You think I don’t respect Saul? Of course I respect him, but that doesn’t mean I’m torn up about it. I’ve watched so many people die in my lifetime. He just adds to the count.”

Rupert pointed to the cabin. “Those guys in there, they’re a wreck.” His voice wavered. “I’m a wreck. We’ve lost friends. Family. We are not okay. That’s why Ella hit you. She knows you had a difficult choice. She doesn’t blame you for this. She just has emotions running through her veins. She needed to let them out, so she hit you. That’s normal. This,” he gestured to Vince, “whatever you’re doing, is not normal.”

Vince continued digging. “I haven’t been normal in two hundred years.”

Rupert sighed. “What I’m saying is, it’s okay to feel bad. To be depressed. Sad. Lonely. We all go through it, but we don’t stuff it down and hide it. We embrace it. And once it passes, because it always does, the good times are that much better. If you let it fester, only more grief can come of it.”

Vince stopped digging again to glare at Rupert. “Trust me. I’m fine.”

Rupert shook his head. “Okay then.”

The cabin door squeaked open, and Alan stepped out. Ella, Charlotte, and Izzy followed. Fred wobbled along Alan’s feet as he stepped through the snow. They wandered over with curious looks. Alan peered at the holes and then at the people lying next to them.

They were all familiar faces. A neighbor. A friend. A loved one. Martha. Horace. Mary. Tamara. Carl. Melinda. Melinda’s face was as beautiful as it had always been. Her hands were placed across her chest, covering her wounds. He knelt down and kissed her forehead one last time.

Ella stood next to Vince, staring straight ahead. “What you did was wrong. I want you to know that. When I hit you, I meant it. I wanted to break your nose. I wanted to hurt you because you hurt us. I still want to hurt you.” She looked to the hole by her mother’s side. “But thank you.” She left his side and walked over to join Alan.

A somber grin crept onto Vince’s face. He picked up his shovel and continued to dig.

SEVEN

THEY STOOD AROUND Snow Peak’s new cemetery, looming over the tombs that were now occupied. Izzy counted the holes and pointed to the one on the end. “There’s an extra hole. That one’s empty.”

Vince shrugged. “I miscounted.”

Alan stepped forward. “I suppose we should say something, right? I’ll start.” He cleared his throat. “Today is a sad day.” He paused. “No. Sad is the wrong word. It doesn’t capture even a fraction of what I’m feeling right now. Today is a horrendous day. A dreadful day. A tragic day. Yes, I think we can all agree that what happened here was a tragedy. Our friends and family were executed. Shot down. Murdered. However you want to put it. There are many ways to describe what happened, but it doesn’t change the outcome. So none of that matters. What
does
matter is what we do next. How we remember them. I will remember Melinda as a loving wife. She was a caring person with a beautiful soul. She was nice to everyone, and she showed endless love for me. Now she is gone, and I will miss her greatly, but I will never stop loving her back.” He bent down and drove a wooden plank into the ground.
Melinda Trotter
was carved into it. He bowed his head and stepped back in line with the others.

Next was Ella. “My mother was the best anyone could ask for. She did a wonderful job raising me. She had morals and principles, and she passed them on to me. Her heart of gold would never melt. And whenever things got hard, she was tough as nails. I owe her the world, and I know I can never repay her.” Tears trickled from her eyes. “Maybe things could have gone differently.” She glanced at Vince and then looked away. “Maybe this whole thing could have been avoided, but now she’s gone. I will carry her legacy. I know that would make her happy.” She bent down, just like Alan, and planted a plank into the ground. This one read
Tamara Weaver
.

Rupert spoke next. “I want to start by saying that all of these losses are tragic. Every single person here deserves kind words. Every one of them deserves this ceremony. None of them deserved what happened. They did nothing wrong. And we may be tempted to blame certain people.” He glanced at Ella, who shot a disgusted look at Vince. “It’s natural to do so in times like this, but that’s not what we need right now. Now is a time to stick together. To support each other. These last few days have been a crazy mess. We’ve all lost people. We’ve all experienced pain and sorrow. Let’s not turn against each other in these difficult times. Instead, let’s take this time to heal, and help others heal.” He turned to Vince. “Vince, this burial was your idea. I think it’s only fair you get a chance to speak as well.”

Vince raised his head, looking straight into Ella’s glare. He turned to the faces of the others, and then to the empty hole at the end. His eyes lingered on the unoccupied tomb, thinking of what to say. Finally, his head sunk and he turned to Rupert. “I have nothing to say.”

Rupert studied his face and nodded. “Very well. Charlotte. You never had the pleasure of meeting these wonderful people, but would you like to say something?”

“Yes, of course,” Charlotte said. “Though it’s true I never met anyone here, I know they were all good people. I have spent most of my life in the Spire. I’ve watched a lot of people. It was my job to observe people. To study their actions and relationships. Never in my entire career have I seen a group more tightly knit than yours. When I first met you, I knew you were inseparable. You are your own little community. I can imagine the rest of these people were the same way. Rupert is right. In times like these, community is the most valuable thing in the world. I am honored that you have welcomed me into yours.”