The community, p.31
The Community, page 31
“Go with power,” Leader Swanson said in a forceful, yet shaky voice, her command followed a second later by lights once again filling the stadium.
The stadium now fully lit, the satellite feed restored, the stadium’s screen flickered to life just in time for citizens to see Cecily burst through the cottage door, covered in blood.
“Don’t touch my son!” Cecily yelled a moment later, after taking in the scene. She clutched the doorframe as if it alone kept her from falling over.
Having passed out in the satellite booth, she woke to watch, on a tiny television, Paul making demands on Nate’s chip. That was all she needed. Cecily forced herself on her feet, demanding that Ricky lead her to Nora’s, weaving and stumbling her way to the cottage, almost as if she was drunk.
The stadium took longer to calm down, but citizens encouraged one as a group to calm, be still, and listen while their wild-eyed senator looked contemptuously at his blood-smeared wife.
Paul paused, chuckling at the site of his bride. The momentary pause was Nora’s chance. She yanked Nate toward her, away from Paul’s poker. Dragging his body across the floor – which wasn’t as heavy these days – she hauled him so that he was shielded by the hand-hewn cupboards on the far end by the stove. Nate lay next to her, breathing hard. She lay a reassuring hand on his chest, then huddled into a crouched position directly underneath precariously balanced pots and pans.
“Here,” Cecily croaked in a weak voice, staggering toward Paul. She flung her arm in front of Paul’s face. “Take my chip instead.”
Paul lowered the poker and spun it on the floor like a child’s toy. “You must be joking,” he said. “What would I do with a Final Date only a few years after mine? And to get a woman’s chip?” Paul threw his head back, laughing. “I would rather die first.”
“Super,” Nora said, from where she now stood just behind Paul, and brought Sarah’s small cast-iron skillet down on Paul’s head with a satisfying thwack, the blood drenching Sarah’s stone floor in a thick spray. “Sounds good to me.”
CHAPTER 38
THUNK. The battering ram slammed into the double doors, the audio room’s walls shuddering as the door gave way.
Protectant agents and Community officers came rushing in, fanning out in a diagonal V-shape. Pointing their weapons at Tarak and Lo, they shouted that the pair were under arrest.
Tarak sat at his console, sweating profusely as he pushed his glasses up again and again. Beside him, Lo stood, casually swinging a Fiftieth Anniversary lanyard on her index finger.
Tarak looked up. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said, clearing his throat. “The doors are working again.” Tarak gave a pointed look at the wall, alight with blinking color.
The lead agent looked at Tarak and screamed something unintelligible, but in a pitch so forceful and angry that Tarak lowered himself to the ground, hands outstretched. Lo followed, keeping her eyes on Tarak and the agent. She knew her father would sort out this mess; knew that Tarak’s skills were far too valuable to risk sending him anywhere near a labor camp. Still. Orders were orders. The agent seemed too manic to defy. The pair eased themselves on the concrete floor, Lo waiting patiently for her father to come through the doors. That was the plan – why wasn’t he following it?
Outside came the thunderous sound of feet on concrete as the Community purged itself from the seats and bleachers in wave after wave. Lo lifted her head slightly from the floor for a reprieve from the intense vibrations.
“On the ground!” The agent yelled, the instant he saw Lo’s head move an inch.
Lo put her cheek back on the cold, stone surface, tiny pebbles implanting in her cheek, when the footsteps were suddenly brought to an immediate halt.
Inside the audio room, the agents and officers looked at each other. Lo didn’t risk a quick glance at Tarak, although she knew he was just as confused as she at the interruption in noise. A second later, a puzzling, foreign sound could be heard, a sound that grew louder by the second.
Lo, without moving her head, could just make out the profile of the lead agent as he swung around toward the entrance.
Thwack.
Thwack, thwack.
Thwack, thwack, thwack.
Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack.
“Sir!” The voice came from an agent in the back of the room whom Lo couldn’t see.
“Wait.” Now it was the leader again, his torso still twisted so that he faced outside, but his imposing, black boots pointed right at Lo. Then, without warning, a loud voice reverberated from outside in such sheer volume that anyone within miles of the stadium could hear it.
“COMMUNITY CITIZENS.”
“Deerborne! Report on outside activity!” The lead agent’s voice was less ferocious and higher now, almost panicked. Lo heard footsteps sprint out the room.
What Agent Deerborne saw when he ran outside was what caused him, thousands of citizens and the leaders of the Community, all standing on their feet, to be paralyzed in fear: Five apache helicopters, choppers only Community soldiers and a few older citizens had seen, hovered overhead, each whipping its blades in a fury that seemed to whip apart the very skies.
“DO NOT BE ALARMED.”
The citizens, previously a somber group having just witnessed a senator’s death, were very much alarmed.
“DO NOT TAKE ACTION AGAINST US – WE HAVE WEAPONRY POISED AND WE WILL USE THEM.”
Mass hysteria began to tip the scales to a full-out riot as a giant swell of screaming, sobbing and alarmed shouting overtook the venue.
Inside the audio room, no one moved, although Lo assumed everyone wanted to.
Lo could hear the inane screaming from outside, and then a moment later, a voice she knew all too well crackled over the agent’s radio, “All Agents: Code Black – I repeat – Code Black. Agents on duty at Memorial Stadium: abandon posts and report to your nearest gate of A, D and S. All off-duty agents report immediately outside the stadium’s main gate. Move!”
Lo knew that voice. It was James.
The lead agent hesitated, then shot off his gun at the floor near Tarak; Tarak recoiled and screamed.
“Don’t think this is over for you two!”
Lo waited until all the men had left, then peeled herself off the floor. She was surprised to see out the glass doors that among the rushing crowds, a rainbow of color rained down from above. It looked like a massive amount of huge confetti. She walked to the door and plucked cards from the pile that blew in when the agents sprinted out: 10 Lies Your Government Told You, The Global Community: Its Survivors, You Are Among Millions: Join Us, Radiation and Its Effects.
All of them told a different story to what the citizens believed to be true.
Tarak looked at the leaflets in Lo’s hand. “What are those?”
Lo tossed them at him. “The end of the Community. Your arm okay?”
“I’ve never been almost shot before, so I can’t tell. But I’ll survive.”
“Brave of you.”
“I think so.”
“Actually, it really was. You did a lot tonight. I’ll make sure Cecily Abbott removes demerits that hit your record.”
Tarak was back to rubbing his arm where the heat of the bullet had grazed. “If she makes it.”
Lo looked at the black screen, wondering how Cecily was doing now, then back out the doorway, where the voice continued to boom about the citizens’ safety. “If any of us make it.”
“Is he …?” Cecily didn’t want to look, yet she was oddly numb that her husband of so many years was most likely gone.
“Yeah.” Nora sat in the corner, still clutching the skillet and breathing hard. “He’s dead.”
Cecily’s hand flew to her mouth and she slumped to the floor. The finality of his death seemed to have taken whatever adrenaline she used to overcome her injury. Nate shuffled over to his mother, hugging her fiercely, her blood dripping from her neck onto his arm. It was crudely bandaged with fabric she tore from her own shirt. He grabbed her hand and looked to Nora.
“Mom, this is bad. How did this happen? Nora, can you get something to tie this off with?”
Cecily watched woozily, almost in slow motion as Nora dropped the pan and ran to Sarah’s sewing corner, scattering fabric pieces while digging through the baskets until running back to Cecily.
Sitting still, Cecily observed with pride as Nate deployed his military training and fixed a makeshift tourniquet from a thick, pink cloth. “That should hold,” he told her. “But you need a hospital.” Nate peered at her. “Are you up to it? I might not make it myself.”
Cecily could barely nod, let alone move. But she forced herself up. Her son looked as if one more drop of stress could do him in.
“Let’s go,” Cecily said, through gritted teeth. She avoided looking at the bloody pile that was once her husband. Besides, Rebecca was somewhere – anywhere, really – and staying here made her a sitting target.
“Can we go?” Cecily asked, more forcefully now, swaying.
Nora frowned. “I’m not sure you’re going anywhere. I’ll just run and grab Sarah first. Plus, we can get men to help us with … that,” Nora gestured toward Paul’s body.
“It’s not the mess, I’m afraid of—”
“Hello?” a voice called, opening the door. “It’s me, Rebecca.”
Nora smiled, visibly relieved at the help and missing the look of horror on Cecily’s face.
“Rebecca,” Cecily repeated softly, her voice trembling. She wanted to cry out, warn Nora, but Rebecca was already inside, already too close.
“Paul?” Rebecca breathed, spotting Paul’s body. She looked up, her eyes alight. “He’s dead?”
Everyone watched Nora open her mouth, but instead of words, only gulp, then exhale. Rebecca held up a hand. “Tell me later. You need to get out of here. This is bad energy for the baby. Come with me.”
Cecily was losing a lot of blood, she felt as if she was watching the three of them from a distance. Nora pulling Nate up. Nate turning to Rebecca. “My mother – she’s hurt. Really badly. Can you help us? Can we get her to the hospital?”
She watched Rebecca give Nate a radiant smile. “I’ll take care of her. You two get outside and away from all of this.”
Nate gave Rebecca a look of gratitude before reaching up to Nora, and still, Cecily seemed to float above it all, not doing or saying anything.
Nora was saying something about getting Nate more oxygen at the hospital and suddenly they left, shuffling their way out the door.
Rebecca turned to glare at Cecily, snapping Cecily out of her trance. Cecily glared back.
“So, you’re not dead after all.”
“You don’t seriously think I’m coming with you.” Cecily held her blood-soaked neck and watched her son leave, for the last time. “Just make it short, you bitch. I’m in enough pain as it is.”
Rebecca smirked, coolly brandishing a .38 special underneath her jacket. Outside, Nate and Nora were oblivious to the drama unfolding within. “You know …” Rebecca said, turning the gun over in her hands. “I feel like a walk myself. Move.”
Rebecca shoved Cecily out the cabin door onto the rickety porch. Ahead, Nora and Nate’s path was guided by the moonlight shining softly on the waves. Cecily watched the pair inching toward the hospital set along the water, their progress slow but steady. She shuffled forward, terrorized every few steps by taunting only she could hear.
“Keep moving. Slow cow. You’re about to end up in the same place as your husband. Get a nice last look at your son. I might kill him before I get to you.”
Cecily whimpered on that last one.
The wind drowned it all. Suddenly, Cecily’s cries cut through the whistling breezes, “You will NOT kill my son!”
Nora whipped around, gasping at Cecily, on her knees, her arms above her head struggling against the gun that Rebecca was trying to point at Nate.
Nora reacted instinctively, diving on Nate, who collapsed to the ground, crying out. Nora cradled her stomach, moaning slightly but then forcing herself to her feet, running to the struggle. Cecily was pale and losing a lot of blood. She was also losing the battle. Rebecca, despite her age, nearly had the gun back in her control.
It was at that exact moment that Rebecca wrenched the revolver into the air, recoiling as she did so, that Nora dove headfirst into Rebecca’s stomach, driving her backward. It worked. The gun flew from Rebecca’s hand, landing with a soft thud on the grass nearby. Rebecca went flying, over the bluff, and beyond the sand, her wild scream cut short as she landed directly onto the jutting rocks below.
Nora crawled to the edge and peered down at the lifeless body of the matriarch splayed in an unnatural position. Eventually Nora heard feet approaching behind her and assumed it was Nate.
“She’s dead?”
“Think so.”
“Good.” Nora let her head fall on the sandy grass, closing her eyes.
After a long while, Nate spoke. “Hell of a wedding night.”
CHAPTER 39
Nora woke to an empty bed. Nate stood on the small front porch, gripping the railing and looking at the village, bustling about its chores, sunlight glowing on dewdrops that kissed fragrant blackberry leaves encroaching on the side.
“You’re up,” he said, as she emerged to join him.
“Everything okay?” She watched his posture as his hands held steadily to the rail for support. He watched her watching him, and he met her gaze.
“No,” he said softly. “But I’m glad you brought me here. It makes me feel better about that child’s future.” Nate nodded toward Nora, and Nora looked down, her face hot.
“I’m worried about being without you,” she admitted, tears spilling down her cheeks. Nate left the rail and walked over to her, folding her in his arms. He didn’t say anything to reassure her, just held her for a long time. At last, he steered her toward the porch stairs.
“Let’s go for a walk.”
The two of them made their way onto a side dirt path, Nate leaning on Nora for support. Nate asked questions, and Nora answered. Why the village didn’t rely on electronics to be more independent. How Eugene’s inventions and simple farming tactics hadn’t stripped the land and fostered growth. The Fringe’s positioning on the earth, and its protection from deadlier ultra-violet rays. On and on he asked, and she answered. Eugene had been an excellent teacher. Finally, they stopped before the hill curved upward and became too steep.
Nate looked around, lost in thought.
“This will have to do for now,” he said. “But the space program has to be the next step. It has to, Nor.”
Nora tilted her chin at him, confused. “What space program?”
Nate shrugged. “There’s no use keeping any secrets now. James – he’s the powerful Abbott in the family.”
Nate ignored Nora’s look of surprise and continued. “Citizens commit to the astronaut program and find themselves holding an M-4.”
Nora’s eyes narrowed. “Paul’s army.”
Nate shrugged. “More or less.”
“And they’re happy about being duped?”
“Probably not. But their families Level-up with them, and they feel trapped. It’s genius manipulation – I guarantee you my father dreamed that up.”
Nora paused on the bluff, inhaling the sweet scent of ripe strawberry fields. “How does an army help us now? We need to teach citizens to farm.”
Nate nodded. “Exactly. James agrees with you. Our father was a narcissistic, crazed psychopath. I refuse to believe all that funding is going to train an army for pure defense. I’m sure James can deploy humanitarian missions and potentially regenerate the Community, especially with the help of Eugene and others like him in the world.”
Nora nodded slowly, thinking. “I agree. But Rebecca is gone, and Eugene prefers to stick to the science. Are you telling me you’re up for that?”
Nate raised an eyebrow at Nora. “I’m not. But James is. And so are you.”
“Me?”
“Who defied an entire government to save their illegal child?”
“… me, but—”
“Who’s learning about earth science to benefit back home?”
“…that’s because I love learning—”
“Who killed not one, but two psychopaths?”
Nora paused, her hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Oh, it was self-defense, honestly, Nate.”
Nate shook his head at her. “You’re a warrior, Nora.” Nate’s wry smile was suddenly replaced by a grimace, and he wobbled; then, without warning, began to sway. Nora shrieked, reaching for him.
“I figured you might need help, brutha.” Dewey’s voice boomed seemingly out of nowhere, picking Nate up like a small bundle of firewood and before Nate could argue, headed toward the hospital. Dewey turned to Nora. “Sarah be waitin’ for you. Saw you two take off. She told me to follow you. Hope you don’ mind. She says she’ll take you to Cecily.”
Nora nodded, her eyes on Nate. The trio made their way past the cottage, around the bend through a small pathway that wove past Cam’s simple, narrow home now spilling over with Sarah’s four children. Joey stuck her head out the upper loft window.
“Auntie Nora! We’re up here!”
Nora shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up at the child, dimpled and dusty. Sarah came outside to Cam’s porch, holding a covered basket on her left arm. She used her right to take Nora’s, walking briskly to keep up with Dewey.
“Kids, mind Cam!” Sarah called, squeezing Nora’s hand.
Nora continued walking. “Have you seen Cecily?”
“She’s recovering. Eugene had it worse, but—”
“Eugene?” Nora turned from watching Nate and squinted at Sarah.
“Eugene,” Sarah confirmed. “Our village elder went on quite the stabbing spree last night.”
Nora let out a long breath, releasing with it some of the guilt she was carrying. “Thank goodness he survived. We need him.”
