Broken (18 page)

"Why are we prisoners?" Monica wanted to know. Colonel Wayne kept looking at Michael, ignoring her.

"You were trespassing on our woods," Wayne said. "These are dangerous times. We can’t trust anyone. You’ve been scanned; you were as soon as you came in here. We’re pretty satisfied you’re not wearing a transmitter or any other signal device, but we can’t be sure, right? You might be spies.
Lots
of spies around." He jutted his chin out. "We
kill
spies."

Colonel Wayne, Michael realized, studying his face, was at most twenty years old.

—Black Bands opened fire; he fell, guts torn out. He made a few motions, trying to put his intestines back in, then collapsed and mercifully blacked out.

—He ran right at the company of soldiers in front of the vast, pillared ConFedMil building, screaming his head off. His leg still hurt. He yelled out someone’s name, and fell in a hail of bullets and plasma fire.

—The hopper was over the city. "Drop it!" Wayne yelled. But something was wrong. Fire erupted everywhere.

Possibilities. Michael looked away, aware of a growing throbbing behind his temples. Violence was this young man’s destiny. He’d have a deeper look later.

Three short, sharp shots rang out, and echoed in the air. Michael and Monica jumped. Wayne laughed.

"That’s just Kent hunting out there. Probably shot a squirrel." He grinned at his men. "Dinner!"

 He suddenly scowled at them again. "Search them. Thoroughly. Go easy on the woman,  but make sure she ain’t hiding anything. Right?"

"Right," said one of the “soldiers.” He still wore his camouflage bandanna. Michael wondered if he was wearing a leer behind it.

Scanners and other equipment were brought out, and they were patted down, too. They found the money and the tickets.

"Trying to get off planet, huh?" Wayne asked. "That’s the coward’s way out, my friend." Michael didn’t say a word.

"Those are ours," Monica protested.

"You think I’m a
thief
?" Wayne said icily. All movement suddenly came to a halt.

Kid or no, Michael realized, he was dangerous. He stood and advanced on Monica in two massive strides . He stood nearly twice as tall as she did. He glared down at her. "Are you questioning my
honor
, woman?"

"Wayne," one of the camouflaged men said warningly.

"Shut up, Parker!
Answer
me,
woman
. Did you or did you not imply that I was a thief?"

"I—I was just saying—it looked like you were going to take it, like the Black Bands did—"

He reared back and slapped her. She staggered across the room.

"Hey!" Michael cried, rushing forward.

 A big hand clamped down on his shoulder. Parker, the soldier who had tried to calm Wayne down, shook his head at him. "Better not, kid," Parker said quietly. Michael gratefully allowed himself to be restrained.

"Don’t
ever
question my honor!" Wayne spat. "I don’t want your
shit
. We’re
Americans
, we don’t
steal
. And we are
not
like the Black Bands!"

Monica, clutching her cheek, stared at Wayne, stunned. She glanced over at Michael quickly, then looked away again.

"Um," said a soldier. "They’re clean, as far as I can tell."

"Here," Wayne said, tossing the money and the tickets back towards Michael. They landed on the floor. "Pick ‘em up."

Michael did as he was told.

"Now get them imprisoned somewhere," Wayne said. "I don’t care where."

"Uh, Wayne?" a soldier said. Wayne shot him a death glare. "
Colonel
. We have no space for 'em."

"Then they can use
your
room, Banner," Wayne snapped. "Get going."

Banner prodded Michael in the back with the butt of his rifle. "You heard him. Get going." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone help Monica to her feet.

They were led down a flight of stairs into what Michael assumed would be a rather rustic basement. To his surprise, it was a fully furnished suite of rooms, possibly larger in area than the house above. "Here," said the soldier, the one Wayne called Banner, opening a door into a small room with a cot and some clothes scattered here and there. "I guess you’ll have to share."

"Sorry about your room," Michael said. "Uh. Banner."

—The guns silenced him.

—An armored hovercraft leveled and fired. The shell took his head off.

—He bled to death in a desert, with only the unrelenting sunlight as a companion.

Were they all like this? Michael looked away.

"No big thing," Banner shrugged. He pulled off his bandanna and shoved it into a duffel bag, then he crammed the rest of his things inside.

"You got a rank, too?" Michael asked.

"Nah. Only Wayne gets a rank." Banner was a large guy—they were all large—with blond hair and an incredibly thick neck. His head looked kind of like a potato, Michael thought.

—"Mom!" he cried, feeling his chest. Holes, everywhere. "Mommy! Mommy!" Redness crept into his field of vision. Was someone standing over him? Darkness.

—The hopper was over the city. "Drop it!" Wayne yelled. Banner flinched. He suddenly realized he hadn’t put the safety on. Fire erupted everywhere.

Michael sighed. These days, he only ever seemed to see people’s untimely ends. Why couldn’t he see something ordinary, like someone going for a walk or taking a leak? "Well. Thanks, Banner. Where’s the bathroom?"
"Uh. Knock on the door if you need to go or change or something."

"We had a baby with us," Michael reminded him.

"Oh. Um. I don’t know what’s happening with that. I’ll go check. I got to lock you in. So go on in." He gestured. Michael went inside and sat on the cot next to Monica. Banner shut and locked the door.

Tears were streaming down Monica’s face. She put her fist in her mouth and curled up on the cot.

"Hey, you okay?" He touched her shoulder. She whirled and slapped his hand away.

"Fuck you," she whimpered.

"Does it hurt? Let me see," he said.

"
Go away
." She turned away from him, and wouldn’t say another word, though she sniffled from time to time. He settled on to the floor and fell asleep.

* * *

When he woke up, he realized that Ian was still missing. He scrambled to his feet. Monica had passed out on the bed, and was snoring softly. "Hey!" he called softly. "Anyone out there?"

The door opened a crack. Banner poked his head in. "What?"

"The baby," Michael said. "Remember?"

"Uh? Oh! Yeah, Wayne wanted to play with him. Probably still upstairs."

Wayne wanted to
play
with Ian? Huh. "Are we going to get him back?"

"Oh, yeah, sure," Banner said distractedly. "He’ll be back down."

"Okay, then," Michael said. "Uh. Thanks."

"Sure thing," Banner said. He shut the door. Michael sat back down on the floor, and tried to imagine Wayne playing with a baby. With
his
baby.

[CHAPTER 18]

T
ime crawled. Every once in a while, Michael would hear boots clump across the boards above his head, and sometimes he heard voices and shouts. Monica slept soundly, showing no signs of waking any time soon. He spent the day lost in thought.

An American "liberation army"… he pondered that for a while. These guys were just a bunch of kids trying to resurrect a country everyone said was better left dead and gone. Humanity had been united as a single nation for over fifty years. Who were they kidding? Maybe they just liked shooting at things and living in the woods. At least it was mostly peaceful.

Where was Broken? Had she escaped? What would they do to her if she hadn't? Would they take her back to the Extrahuman Union? Would she tell Sky Ranger everything? He fervently hoped she was okay, and that she was still free.

 When it came to Sky Ranger and the Union he couldn’t be sure, even now, where her loyalties ultimately lay.

Monica… He took a moment to look at her sleeping form. She’d been through too much in the past couple of days. She’d lost her home and family, and had her political beliefs outlawed. Now she was stuck in the woods, caught by a group of possibly-addled young men.

She was what, nineteen? Twenty? She sighed in her sleep. She had lovely hair, Michael caught himself thinking. He banished the thought quickly.

He hoped her dreams were peaceful.

A knock on the door. "Food comin’ in," Banner said. "Step back from the door. There’s three of us."

"I’m back," Michael called. The door opened and Banner stuck his head in. He grinned and shoved two plates of food into the room. "Hey, Banner," Michael said. "Where’s that baby we had?"

"Colonel Wayne, last I saw," said Banner. "Hey, we got some news. President made a speech. It’s martial law, the Senate has been disbanded. All the UNP Senators got arrested."

"I don’t care," Michael said.

Banner fixed him with an intense stare. "Guy’s a dictator."

"I knew that."

Banner looked crestfallen. "Okay. Just thought you’d want to know." He withdrew, and locked the door again.

"Hey!" Michael yelled after him, feeling crazy and impulsive. "You’re going to die in fire, you know! You’re going to yell for your
mom!
" Banner, perhaps fortunately, didn’t return. Michael seethed.

Monica stirred. "Way to piss off the enemy," she said. "He was nice."

"Oh, you’re up?" Michael said irritably. "Well, if you hadn’t noticed, he’s keeping us prisoner."

"What crawled up your ass?" Monica grabbed her plate and started eating. Michael huffed and paced around the room for a few minutes before picking up his own plate and eating fitfully. The meat was tough and stringy, and it tasted funny. He tried not to think about what it might have been.

"Hey, sorry I was mean to you before," Monica said. "Really. It’s just been a hard couple of days."

"Good for you," Michael snarled. "Other people have had it rough, too. Not that you notice. All about you! And do you ever stop complaining? Could have been you in that fire, too, if not for me! And what thanks do I get, but you bitching and complaining all the fucking time!" He whirled away from her, panting angrily. He felt oddly empty, and glanced back at her.

Monica looked like she’d been struck again. She even rubbed her cheek, which was still red. "Hey," she began, eyes big, tears forming. "Hey, I didn’t—"

"Oh, stuff it," he snapped bitterly. Monica started to cry.

He listened to her sniffle for a few minutes, until he couldn’t stand it anymore. "Stop crying," he said. "Stop. Come on."

"Fuck you," she said, miserable.

He sat on the ground, still fuming.

"They have Ian," he pointed out. "Did you even notice he was gone? You can’t even be bothered to change his diaper. But they have him, that Wayne guy has him. I don’t know where he is."

"Oh." Monica got herself under control after a few minutes. "Okay. What do we do?"

"We’re in prison!" he exploded. "We can’t do
anything!
"

"You’re a prophet!" she yelled, standing, "Can’t you
see
something for us to do?"

"No, I fucking can’t!" he screamed back, right in her face.

"Well, why not?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Some prophet!"

 His shoulders slumped. "It doesn’t work that way, I told you. I can’t do a damn thing. I only get flashes…and they aren’t always useful." He looked up into her eyes.

—Monica kissed him. "I love you," she said. He was so happy.

What the hell? What had he just seen? He dismissed it, looking away.

"You’re no help," she said.

 . "I try." He wasn’t angry anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself to  apologize to her.

Did he really see what he thought he had seen? He couldn’t picture himself even
liking
Monica right now.

They sat in opposite corners of the room, she on the cot, he on the floor, for many long minutes until a knock came at the door.

"Stan’ back," Banner said. "Comin’ in."

"Back," Michael called wearily.

Banner and Parker entered, toting their weapons. Another soldier followed, carrying Ian.

"Ian!" Michael and Monica said at the same time, springing to their feet.

The other soldier handed Ian to Monica, and pointed at Michael. "You. Come upstairs."