daynight (46 page)

Should I say goodbye to Kira? She disappeared back into her bedroom, likely to take a shower and get ready for the night. If I walk in and find her in anything less than that daygown I wouldn’t be able to resist. It would be best to avoid a teary, dramatic farewell. I hope that it’ll end up being unnecessary. The Militants need to prevail tonight so I can return home in the morning and celebrate with Kira. Assuming she will forgive me and take me back.

I leave my watch by my desk where I’m supposed to be starting lessons for the night. Then I quietly slip out the front door. It’s still light out but the sun’s quickly fading behind the canyon hills to the East. The air is hot and sticky and it smells like a campground, which concerns me a little. Fire of any kind is strictly forbidden within the city. I worry the citizens may panic. They’re already on edge about a potential Exiler attack thanks to Brad Darcton.

I dart into the entrance to the train and am happy to see it empty, but running. Minutes later I’m at the city center. The sun disappeared while I was aboard the train. The booths and stage have been dismantled so I have a clear view of the vibrant lights of the Headquarters building. All looks quiet, so I take a seat on a bench next to a city worker and pretend to peruse my tablet for evening news as he is doing. The smell of fire’s stronger here. Could it be a diversion of some sort?

I’m thankful that the lighting is better in the plaza than elsewhere in the city. The street lamps give a hundred feet of visibility or more. Out of the corner of my eye I see small groups of men in city uniforms on the offshoot street where city officials reside. That’s where I came out of the tunnels the night I’d infiltrated headquarters to get Ted’s bogus planted information. They’re at a considerable distance, but a couple of them look familiar. Although I don’t have my watch on, I know what time I left the house. The Exilers planned their arrival to shortly precede the normal worknight at HQ, so if I’m right and it’s my father’s men, they are early.
 

“Not again. This is Mandy’s tablet,” I say out loud. The man next to me gives me an odd look. “I grabbed my Cleave’s tablet by accident. It’s the third time this month I’ve done that! Here I thought I was so early and now I risk being late.” He chuckles as I get up to leave, giving him the impression I’m off to rectify my stupid mistake. I head towards the residential area to get a closer look and confirm the men are Militants.

It doesn’t take me long to find my father. As promised he and his henchmen are in city attire, although their equipment implies they are part of a fire safety crew.

“I need to talk to you. It’s important,” I say.
 

“Take this,” my father says. He hands me a toolbox. “Don’t say a word. I mean it. Now’s not the time. Just follow.” I nod and follow him to the front door of the next house. A woman answers.

“We are so sorry to alarm you, ma’am. Is your Cleave home? As you can tell from the odor in the air, there’s something burning in the city and we’ve been dispatched to find the source,” my father says. She calls to her Cleave who arrives promptly at the door. Medium build. Receding hairline. Cold brown eyes. He’s wearing that telltale symbol that all members of the Ten wear—a silver pin carved with a circle representing the Circle of Compliance and a small number ten in the center of the circle.

“How can I help you gentlemen?” he asks.

My father and his colleague don’t bother to answer. My father puts a bullet through both the man and his Cleave’s brains. I gasp in horror at the sight of my father executing two human beings. The man may have been a member of the Ten, but what about his Cleave? My father pushes me back and closes their front door.

“Go home, Blake,” my father says. “We’ve got this.”

“Dad, the meeting isn’t tonight. Ted set us up. It’s next Monnight and Tuesnight,” I say, words stumbling from my mouth.

“I see,” my father says. “No matter. We’ve hit six of the Ten so far and numerous members of the Grand Council. Garden City’s government will be crippled. Now go.” I back away from the group who has already made their way to the next door, wanting no part of their mass executions. At no point during my father’s planning sessions do I remember him discussing killing and not simply capturing city officials.

I slowly walk back towards the square as my father’s men finish out the rest of the street. Masses have gathered to report for work at HQ and are making their way through security and into the building. Pretending to be one of them, I join the line and get out my HQ passkey to prepare to enter. My gut says my father and band are headed here next. As I approach the main doors I’m proven right. I see my father to my side. He glares and motions for me to leave but I ignore him. If there’s a way to stop further executions, I’ll figure it out. I’m ashamed to carry my father’s DNA right now.

How could things go so wrong
in ten minutes time?

Two hundred plus Militants stormed Headquarters with a vengeance, executing twenty security guards in seconds and surrounding the crowd. The workers screamed and frantically tried to escape. To protect myself, I grabbed an executed guard’s gun and tucked it under my shirt and into my pants.

That’s when I saw her. Kira. She must have followed and slipped in behind me. I froze as I tried to figure out how to keep her out of the clustered crowd and safe. Our eyes locked for a moment and that didn’t go unnoticed by my father. He pounced on her faster than a cat on its prey.

“Well, well, well,” my father said, pulling her beside him. “You must be Kira Donovan. Stick by me and I’ll keep you safe.”

“Let her go, Dad,” I said. “As my partner, she followed me here. But she has nothing to do with any of this.”

“On the contrary. If you reported correctly, Kira is a coveted Original. The SCI has big plans for her and likely wants to keep her alive. That’s about as useful as anyone could be to us,” he said.

“Dad, no. You are not using Kira as your security blanket,” I said. He didn’t reply, but pointed his gun at her head.

“It’s okay, Blake,” Kira said, her gold ringed green eyes showing infinitely more confidence than I have. “Everything will work out. I’m not worried.” She mouthed ‘I love you’ to me. I paused too long, leaving her sentiments unanswered.

“Move. Everyone to the atrium now!” my father said, yanking Kira with him.

So, here I am, watching as the HQ employees are coerced into the atrium where Militants systematically look for Ten or Council pins and begin to terminate wearers accordingly. In the chaos and panic I ditch the crowd. Before I can climb the stairs to watch from above, I run into Brad Darcton. Behind him are hordes of heavily armed security forces.

“This is not my doing,” I say to him. “My father has Kira with a gun to her head. You have to get her out safely. Please.” Brad tilts his head to the side as he weighs his options, one of which I assume would be to eliminate me on the spot.

“How many men?” Brad asks.

“Two hundred or more trained Militants. I didn’t get a good count. It all happened so fast,” I say.

“Is Ethan or my Cleave in the crowd?” he asks.
 

“I don’t know,” I say. “They have everyone in the atrium.”

“I’ll do my best with Kira,” he says. “And you will answer for this later. For now, it would be helpful if you could think of something to divert your father’s attention.”

“Yes, sir,” I say as I start to creep up the stairs.

“Careful,” he says. “You’ll be a tempting target through all that glass,” referring to the glass mosaics that won’t hide my silhouette as I climb the stairs. Chills go down my spine. Despite the risk of being shot at, I creep up the circular staircase until I am safely behind a post and then get down on my stomach. I watch the scene through holes cut in the glass for spotlights to shine through.

Brad makes a grand entrance, parting the crowd as he greets my father by name.

“Hank, my friend. So good to see you,” he says. Two hundred guns track his march to the center of the atrium.

“Brad. Long time no see. I can’t say I missed you,” my father replies.
 

“Wow. My feelings are so hurt,” Brad replies. “What brings you and your friends to Garden City tonight?”

“I thought a little reorganization of your government was in order,” my father says. “And hell, the revenge is good, too.”

“Let the girl go, Hank, and let’s talk this out like two grown men,” Brad says. He starts to speak again, but a shot is fired by a Militant that hits him squarely in the chest. It sends him catapulting back a few feet, although I don’t see any blood. Body armor.
 

“Hold off,” my father says to keep more shots from firing. “There’ll be plenty of time for that and I’d like to do the honors.” It takes a minute for Brad to catch his breath and stand back up. In the meantime, while everyone’s busy trying to catch a glimpse of one of the Ten’s fate, Brad’s soldiers have the opportunity to surround the Exilers and disengage their safeties in unison.

“Checkmate,” Brad says in a more belabored tone. “I believe you are outnumbered, my friend. And I have endless reserves to take their places. It’s time for your men to stand down.” I don’t know where they came from, but Doc Daryn was one hundred percent right. The SCI’s illusion of weakness was the work of a master magician.

“You harm anyone and your precious Original dies, and then you won’t be able to use her for your ridiculous purposes,” my father threatens. Kira is ignoring my father. Her eyes are trained on someone in the crowd. Ethan. If Kira ever questioned his true feelings for her or if I ever doubted that she had feelings for him, both are crystal clear now. He looks ready to sacrifice his own life for her if needed. I watch him inch towards her. She appears to be waiting for his signal to make a move. Fabulous. She’s going to get herself killed.

“Ridiculous purposes? Your son’s alive thanks to those ridiculous purposes. As for Kira, if you want to kill an innocent girl over your futile plans, then go for it. She’s already provided what we needed to preserve the future of Thera,” Brad says, walking forward to meet my father face to face.
 

“Don’t you dare bring up my son,” my father says, scanning the crowd. Is he looking for me? He looks more scared than I’ve ever seen him.

“Why? You don’t want him to know about his true lineage?” Brad says.
 

“I am his father,” my father says.
 

“Perhaps, but your dear Cleave who died in Exile is most certainly not your son’s mother,” Brad says. “I bet you never mentioned that to him.”
 

What? I stumble a little, but catch myself before going headfirst through the glass. My mom—who I watched die in agony—wasn’t my real mother? He has to be lying. But then I think about the whole Assisted Pregnancy process and it occurs to me that they could be implanting any embryos in the mothers.

“Shut up or I’ll kill the girl,” my father says, pressing the gun harder against Kira’s head.

“Really? Because if finding out that you lied about his mom won’t kill your relationship, I really can’t guarantee your son will ever support you or your cause if you execute his girlfriend.” The look on my dad’s face is priceless as he tries to absorb that nugget of information. I guess I’d failed to mention my relationship with Kira expanded beyond plain old partners.

“Is that true?” my father asks Kira. “Are you involved romantically with my son?”

“Sorry, I missed that. What are you accusing me of? I can’t hear with the gun shoved in my ear,” she says. He keeps hold of her, but shifts the gun ever so slightly away from her head and repeats his question. That’s just the opportunity I need to create a more significant diversion without risking her life.

I remove the security guard’s gun from my pants, release the safety, and aim for the glass mosaic directly behind my father. Then I pull the trigger and watch as thousands of shards of glass rain down on the crowd below.
 

The diversion works. My dad loses his grip on Kira as he spins around to see the source of the explosion and starts firing shots wildly. Ethan tackles Kira, pushing her to the ground so he can act as a human shield. I see blood oozing from Ethan’s shirt. He may have been hit by a bullet. By the time my father realizes the rain of glass was meant to distract him and jolts back around, Brad Darcton shoots my father. The force of the bullet puts a grapefruit-sized hole through my father’s heart. Dead on impact. His lifeless body falls to the floor.
 

 
The execution of my father causes a domino effect. A Militant shoots Brad Darcton in revenge. Then one of Brad’s security personnel shoots the Militant. Brad’s still down, but I can’t tell where he was hit. Security forces rush and secure Brad’s body and the area. While there, they grab Ethan and Kira and whisk them out to safety.
 

After that it’s an all-out slaughter, with the Militants outnumbered at least five to one. I see some of the Militants drop their weapons and try to blend with the HQ employees, but most get outed by residents who saw them with guns. When both sides start shooting at the glass in my direction, I scramble up the stairs to the third level, use my passkey to enter the floor, and run for the back stairs and down to the safety of the tunnels.

The problem is that the tunnels are used to evacuate important SCI personnel to safety in case of emergency. I see a group of security goons escorting a group. I’m in the open with no place to hide. And this group includes Ethan and Kira. Ethan’s shirt is off and he’s using it to apply pressure to his wound. Showoff.

“There you are,” Ethan says. “I worried you might have been amongst the injured.” To his security escort he adds, “He works with me. We were together in the crowd, but I lost him when I went for Kira.” Why would he help me? Guilt over his father killing mine?

“I barely escaped. Two of those beasts were after me,” I say, playing along.

“Let me see your headquarters passkey,” the security guard says. I show him and he nods to accept me into their brigade. Kira starts to drag as if she can’t handle the hike and within minutes we’re at the back of the group. The security detail’s way more concerned about the Council members than us, so leave us alone as we march.