Killswitch (25 page)

“Like right now? This thing weighs a ton.” Leo smiled as he strained and blew out a breath.

“I'm sorry I lost the upper body strength.” Chase huffed. “Really sorry.”

“You just keep your end up.” The two sidestepped through the tunnel. “As far as resenting it when I don't get my own way, I figure after what's been done for me, I can't complain. I gave up my own agenda a long time ago. So did you, brother. Look at all you've given up for us. You didn't owe us anything. And yet, here you are.”

Peace flowed into Chase at the words of a man who'd been doing this Christian thing long enough to know how it worked. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Leo asked.

“Just thanks.”

As Switchblade had warned, getting the big canvas down the spiraling stairs was not easy. Chase nearly dropped it a couple of times. But they got it through the door and into the compound. Setting it down, both men dropped to the floor and leaned against the wall.

Mel was there this time—Chase hadn't taken time to look for her when he brought down the smaller paintings. She sat beside him, a look of relief on her face. Which disappeared when he told her he was going back to help Switchblade repair the wall.

“We can't leave it that way, Mel. Switch is seeing what we can use that won't be missed. We've got to close up the wall.”

“I'll go with you,” Leo said. “You'll get it done quicker with another set of hands.”

“I appreciate that,” Chase said.

“Well, you at least have to eat before you go,” Mel said.

“We're coming,” Chase said. “I told Switch I'd bring him some.”

She got up and pulled on Chase's arm. “I'll fix him a plate.”

Chase pushed up off the floor and took her by the hand. Leo followed them to the dining hall. The people sitting at the long tables smiled when Chase entered. They seemed to wait in silence for something. Chase looked around the room. The paintings—the smaller ones—adorned the walls.

“How on earth did you get them hung so fast?” Chase asked Mel.

“We had the hooks up and ready before you brought them down. What do you think?”

He led her to the nearest table and took a seat. She sat beside him. “It's perfect,” he said. “Now we can all enjoy them.” A few people applauded and the rest joined in. Chase's mom brought him a plate of corned beef and cooked apples.

Chase shoveled in a forkful of the steamy fruit. Maybe he could get by on little sleep, but thankfully he hadn't lost his need for food.

“So, who's been up?” he asked. “Corned beef is new to the menu.”

“I went,” Mel said.

Chase dropped his fork. “What? I can't believe you went on a food run.”

“Somebody's got to carry on with that sort of thing now that we don't have any contacts up top. Michael and Joseph went with me. And we did all right. I don't think we have anything to worry about as long as the Feds aren't in the area.”

“But—”

“We all have to work together.”

“You don't go up without me. Understood?”

“Yes,
sir
,” she said. She bent near and kissed him. The giggling started before she backed away.

“Go fix that plate for Switchblade.”

“Yes, sir,” she said again, and she left him there. He watched her go then found his mother had taken the seat beside him.

“You love that girl.” Mom smoothed down Chase's hair like she did when he was a kid in need of a comb.

“I do. I think I've loved her for a long time. Just took a while to convince myself.”

“When you get back tonight, come to my room. Even if it's late,” she said. “I have something for you.”

40

Carrying a plate of corned beef and apples for Switchblade, Chase followed Leo, who had the laserlight. They entered the room where the paintings had hung. No need to climb through a hole in the wall—the wall was nearly gone.

No sign of Switchblade. He should have been back from his unlawful supply run. Chase set the plate on the floor. “Come on,” he said. “We'd better go look for him.”

Chase cracked the door—Switchblade had taken down the boards they'd nailed over it. The construction crew hadn't ventured this far.

Leo handed Chase the laserlight and followed him to the museum's front room with its view of the dark town.

“I can't believe this,” Chase said. “Where did he go?”

Switchblade filled the open doorway. “I'm right here. Don't get yourself in a tizzy.”

“What are you doing out there?” Chase demanded.

“Fresh air, brother. I need it.”

“Did you get the stuff?”

“Enough for our little building project. It's piled in the hall. You walked right past it.”

“Then get in here. Let's get busy.”

Patching the old chunks of drywall with the tape and plaster made easy work of rebuilding the wall. Blue paint didn't match the aged green of the rest of the room, but Leo thought it best to put a coat of the latex over the repair job. Enough remained to add some blue to an adjoining wall, which gave the appearance of an unfinished project. Hopefully, the workers wouldn't get to this part of the structure before the new paint smell diminished.

With the wall put back together, permanently cutting off access to Blue Sky Field, Chase and his cohorts headed out the front door of the museum and stuck close to the buildings as they slinked to the alley at the end of the street. No one was out—it was the middle of the night.

Chase had called Mel with Switchblade's VPad to tell her when to scramble the camera links. The refuse bin held a full load and it took all three men to push it aside. Once they'd crawled into the tunnel, moving the bin back into place was even harder. Switchblade and Leo leaned against the wall, puffs of frigid air escaping their lips. Chase got his second wind. There had to be a breaking point for this endless energy.

“Good work,” Switchblade said when they got to the old stairs leading downward. He patted Chase on the back and gave a quick punch to Leo's arm. “I'll see you men tomorrow.” He reached the compound and disappeared in the darkness.

“See you, Chase,” Leo said.

“Yeah. Goodnight.” Chase faced the hall leading to his mother's room. “Thanks for your help.” He nodded as Leo went the opposite direction.

Before he got too far into the compound, Mel ran toward him with a laserlight in her hand. She threw her arms around him.

“I thought I could get to the tunnel before you got back,” she said. “I don't know my way around this far out.”

“You didn't have to come. You should be in bed asleep.” But he was glad to see her. He kissed her and stroked her soft hair.

“Like I could sleep not knowing if you made it back. Did everything go as planned?”

“Does it ever?” He took her hand and started walking.

“Oh no. What happened?”

“Switch pulled a disappearing act—took a stroll in the moonlight. That's all. The repair on the wall looks good, as long as nobody looks too close. Come on, I'll walk you to your room. I told Mom I'd stop by when I got back. I'm sure she's waiting up for me.”

“Okay, but first I want to show you something. Come to my work station with me.”

He followed her lead and she flipped on the lights above the computers. Chase found the reason Mel had brought him here. High on a wall, overlooking the worldwide command center of the Underground Church,
Ceil Bleu Domaine
hung in its new location.

Chase gazed at the painting and squeezed Mel's hand. “I'm so glad we didn't tear it up. I'll never get tired of looking at it.” He stood before it. “This is where it belongs—right here where we hold everything together.”

“I'm glad you approve.” She lifted up and kissed his cheek. “Now you can take me to my room.”

They entered the hallway. “Are you tired, Chase? At all?”

“No. I feel as wide awake as when I got up this morning after three hours of sleep.”

“I wish I could tell you what's going on in your body,” she said.

“Don't look so worried. It'll be all right.”

She nodded as they neared her door. He kissed her goodnight. Or good morning—what time was it anyway? Then he kissed her again. “I'll try to sleep in.” He let her go.

“You do that and you'll miss breakfast.”

“Let me guess—corned beef and cooked apples.”

“That's right. You're gonna want some of that.”

He walked backward as she spoke. “I'll see you there.” He smiled, turned around, and headed a few doors down the hall to his mother's room. A quiet knock brought her to the door and she let him in.

“Oh, son, I'm glad you're back. I was getting worried.” She sat on the end of her bed and pulled a small leather pouch from under the mattress.

“It took some time, but we got the wall rebuilt. Nobody will know what's behind it.” He sat beside her. “What have you got there?”

“I wasn't able to hold on to much when I came underground. But I managed to keep a few things.” She spread open the drawstring top of the bag and pulled out two rings. “Mine and your father's. Our wedding rings. I want you to have them.”

Chase opened his hand and she dropped the golden circles into his palm. He flipped them over and over. Then he took his father's ring and placed it on his finger. A perfect fit.

“I'm sorry I don't have the engagement ring. The diamond made it worth a lot, and I sold it when I gave up my WR assignment. I needed the money.”

“I'm sorry you had to do that, Mom. Tell me how you ended up here.” He looked her in the eyes. “And tell me about my father. I saw the look on your face the other day when I told Amos that I thought Dad knew more about the Bible than he let on.”

Her head bowed and tears filled her eyes. “Your father became a believer when you were about ten. I was so afraid of filling your mind with fairytales that I made him promise to keep it to himself. I thought he was crazy. It was a source of contention for a while. I told him I'd leave if he didn't let it go. Well, he loved me.” She smiled. “And I loved him. And we agreed not to talk about it.”

“He tried to tell me about it a couple of times,” Chase said. “Now I know why he stopped short.”

She nodded. “It was my fault.”

He put his arm around her shoulder. “I didn't say that. Dad was just like the rest of the Christians I've met. He learned to be quiet.”

“When he died, I didn't give it another thought. Never considered the possibility that what he believed was true. Didn't picture him in Heaven or anything. He was just gone.”

“What happened to change your mind?”

She pulled her husband's ring from Chase's finger and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger. “About a year ago I met a man—Marty—when I took a trip to Orlando. He was a believer and he reminded me so much of your dad. Only he didn't keep quiet. He said it was time to unlearn bad habits. Of course, he got arrested. When they let him go, his Christian friends told him to go underground. He was being watched because…well, he was too vocal. We stayed in contact. But he got arrested again. And again. And then he led me to the Lord. He made sense. Everything your father had tried to tell me made sense then. I couldn't deny it any longer.”

“What happened to Marty?”

“The last time he got arrested, I was with him. We'd gone to New York to a rally and the Feds raided it. They took me in too. I didn't admit to anything—especially not to being a Christian. The police let me go—they didn't even file a report on me. But it was Marty's fourth offense. I don't know where they sent him. I never saw him again.”

Chase rubbed her shoulder.

“I couldn't admit I'd become a believer, Chase. I couldn't say it. After that, I wanted to atone for my cowardice. And I wanted to hide. So I sold everything, took up with a church house in New York, and asked how I could get into the underground. My plan was, and still is, to spend the rest of my life serving here. I feel like I have a purpose in this place. And I'm too afraid to try to live the life of a believer out in the open.”

“Don't be afraid, Mom.”

“It's easy to say, son. But so hard to live. I
am
afraid. I can't help it.”

“I understand.” He took the ring back and jangled it against the smaller one in his hand. “So, you met Mel at the church house in New York?”

“Can you imagine my surprise when I came face to face with the woman who had been your assistant? Who'd programmed you? When she joined the underground, I went with her. I'd only wanted a place to hide, but then I knew God had a reason for bringing me here.”

“To give me these rings? It's a nice souvenir. I'll keep them in a safe place.” He stuck the rings in his pocket. “Thanks.”

She crossed her arms and gave him a motherly stare, and he laughed.

“Charles Alexander Redding…”

“Oh, the full name. I must be in trouble.”

“You know what those rings are for. You go ask that precious girl to marry you.”

“That's a wonderful dream. But do you really think this is any way to start a marriage? Living with constant danger? Not knowing what tomorrow holds?”

“So you face it together. You're together anyway. It could only make things better.”

Chase shook his head. “I guess I'm the one who's afraid.” He reached into his pocket to grasp the rings. “It's not that I don't want to marry her.”

She handed him the leather bag. “Think about it, son. I won't say anything to Melody about the rings.”

“OK. Goodnight. I love you, Mom. I'm glad you told me your story.” He kissed her on the cheek and left for his room.

He returned the rings to their pouch and stuffed it under his mattress. Then he stretched out on the bed and began the process of convincing his body to accept sleep. His body that teemed with nanobytes and silicon. Fake organs. Processors that might or might not ever activate again. How could he subject Mel to all that? Why would she want to marry a transhuman? If they got married, they might end up—