The Killing Jar (35 page)

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Authors: RS McCoy

BOOK: The Killing Jar
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MICHAEL

LRF-AQ

AUGUST 29, 2232

 

Abigail entered with their usual evening tray in her hands, wheat for him and watermelon for her. She set both provision bowls down at the small table at the center of the room and collected two glasses of water from his modest personal kitchen.

Michael was neck deep in budget spreadsheets. Robotics was way over after losing an unprecedented amount of probes a few weeks ago. Colonies was short one researcher until the committee approved a replacement. Astrobotany needed to send their newest seed creations to colony ships more than twenty years out. Planetary Systems had worked more overtime than three departments combined. There were a lot of overages. He rubbed his forehead and sighed.

Abigail arrived behind him. Her hair smelled sweet, flowers maybe. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her body against his shoulders. Even the weight of her felt good.

“Take a break,” she said, as if she were his boss and not the other way around.

“I’m almost done here,” he lied.

“Come on.” She pulled at his shoulders and urged him out of his chair.

Michael gave in, as he always did. He gripped her hand and pulled her back when she tried to walk away, kissing her hard when she reached him.

“Did you ever have a girl? As a youth?” She kissed him again, a small peck on the lips as she took her seat.

Michael chuckled at the memory. “I did once.”

“What was her name?” Abigail asked with a smile.

“Cherokee Running Bull. Her mother was convinced they were full blooded Cherokees, but there’s no way to prove that anymore.”

“Were they authentic? Did they hunt bison and live in teepees and all that?” Abigail teased him.

“Not in that way, but in others. They were polygamists, which I didn’t realize until we’d been dating for a few months.” Michael started in on his bowl of provisions.

Abigail’s eyes widened as she leaned in. “Really?”

“They were Craftsmen, her mother a seamstress and her father worked one of the big farms outside Chattanooga. I planned on going Scholar, but that would have disrupted their polygamist lifestyle. I guess they thought they could convert me.”

“Convert you how?” Abigail asked, though her raised eyebrows indicated she already knew.

Michael felt the heat rise into his cheeks. He shoved a spoonful of provisions into his mouth.

“Oh come on, tell me. Now I have to know,” Abigail prodded with a smile.

Michael swallowed hard. “It was a normal day after class. I went to her house to see her. Cherry’s mom opened the door and insisted I come in.”

“Cherry?”

“Yeah, Cherry. I went up to her room. There was another girl there. Couldn’t tell you her name. I’m not sure I ever knew it.” Most of that day was a blur, a strange, vivid blur.

Abigail’s lips curled into a wide smile. “Okay, so you have Cherry and another girl in her room. What happened next?” She leaned in further and abandoned her dinner altogether.

“Well, Cherry left me alone with the other girl. And, let’s just say, I learned a lot that day.” Michael could remember every detail, the dream-catchers that hung from the window, the native pattern painted on the wall, the two dark-haired girls who sat on the bed and stared up at him with big, innocent eyes, hiding their plan until the last possible moment. He remembered his confusion, then rejection, and finally submission. He’d only been sixteen, after all.

“Wait, she left?” Abigail looked disappointed.

“Yes, but she came back later.”

“And you’d never touched her before?”

Michael shook his head.

Abigail threw her head back and laughed so hard she clutched at her stomach.

“It’s not funny. I’m pretty sure it’s assault,” he added, but he couldn’t keep from laughing, not when she laughed. It was contagious.

“So, the first time you touch a girl, you have two force themselves on you?” She coughed out yet more laughs.

“Yes, it would seem so. I don’t know why you think it’s so funny.”

“I can just picture you trying to rationalize the situation, talk your way out of it. I bet you tried to reason with them,” she said between snorts of laughter.

Michael pursed his lips. “Fine, I tried to reason with them. Only for a while,” he said in his defense, but it didn’t help. She was already lost to her laughs again.

He would have been upset at someone laughing at him, especially her, but he loved to see her laugh, to see her so relaxed. He enjoyed being the one to make her smile, even at his expense. Even if it wasn’t real.

“What’d you tell them?” Abigail asked, eager for details.

“Oh, I can’t remember.”

“Come on! Tell me,” she begged.

Michael snorted, anticipating her reaction. “I told them I didn’t think I could handle two of them at once.” Sure enough, Abigail hooted all the louder. “That’s when Cherry left. The friend was very persuasive, but Cherry came in later. I didn’t want to be unfaithful to her.”

“So, you really only touched Cherry?” Abigail laughed so hard her cheeks turned bright red and she struggled to breathe. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I don’t get it. Why is that so funny?” Sure, the whole situation was a little comical in retrospect, but he couldn’t imagine why that last bit had been the one to set her over the edge.

Abigail worked to get enough air in her lungs to explain. “Cherry popped your cherry.”

And that was it. Michael lost his cool and laughed right alongside her, both gasping for air.

Michael pushed his provisions aside and scooped Abigail from her chair. He all but tossed her onto the bed and crawled over her.

“Got excited reliving the glory days?” she teased.

Not in the least. Michael couldn’t keep his hands off her for one more second, not when she laughed like that. Not when she was so open and free, so far removed from her professional, business self. This was the Abigail only he could see. And he wanted all of her.

 

 

MABLE

SUBTERRANEAN CHICAGO, NORTH AMERICA

AUGUST 29, 2232

 

The warm air of the Root filled her lungs. She’d been excited to come back, to see Hadley and be someplace she felt safe, but she hadn’t expected it to feel as good as it did. She’d needed this trip, only she hadn’t realized it until they were here.

Her arm linked with Hadley’s, they walked through the market. She let Hadley tell her about all things she’d missed, all the latest boy gossip and juicy news Mable couldn’t quite manage to care about. She wanted to be with Hadley again.

“Mossa, you know that guy from the Arbor, he went back and took like thirty of the others. Mostly girls, I mean, who wouldn’t go with a guy with that face, but a lot of folks were pretty upset. You should have seen Luc’s face. He still hasn’t’ gotten over it.”

“Payten went? Yeah, I bet he was destroyed.”

“And, please, can I ask what’s going on with your hair? Is this a new look we’re trying? I seriously did not get the ecomm.” Mable smiled wide. She’d missed this.

“It’s a long story,” was all Mable could say in the busy market. Mable turned and shot Theo a look, but he was still pouting about Hadley’s right hook.

She’d have to wait to get back to their cave to tell her the details, though she was definitely going to leave a few of them out.

Hadley filled her ear all the way back to their quaint little cave, but stopped short when she entered. Her bed had new sheets. Tee-shirts and pants were strewn here and there. A masculine black leather belt and a pair of enormous combat boots gave it away.

“Hadley Wallace! You’ve had a boy living here?!” Mable held the girl’s shoulders at arms’ length and glared, hoping to force the truth out of her.

Hadley squirmed. “Just Rowen. Are you mad?”

“Who’s Rowen?” Theo asked from the cave entry.

“Never mind.” Mable didn’t want to get into it.

She was, however, relieved that Rowen had taken over care of Hadley. Not that the girl was helpless, but she was young, and she’d never known the parts of the world Mable and Rowen had seen. They both wanted to keep it that way.

“He’s down helping Mitt with something for the water system. I’ll have him move his shit out when he gets back.”

Mable sighed. “No, we aren’t staying.”

“What?!” Hadley’s mouth hung open as she crossed her arms. “You just got back and you’re leaving?”

“In the morning. But here, I brought you some things.” Mable hoped the giant bag of new clothes and supplies would soften the blow. Sure enough, Hadley set the bag on her bed and began to pull out the items on top, though the pissed off look never quite left her face.

“Where’d you get all this?” Hadley pulled out the black paisley sheets and set them into a rumpled pile.

“I’m in a program. They give us pretty much anything.”

“What kind of program?” She held up the mint-green pants and her eyes widened. Mable knew she liked them.

“It’s all pretty secret, but—”

“Careful.” She’d almost forgotten Theo was there. Despite his warning, she wasn’t going to tell Hadley anything. Mable wouldn’t put her in danger that way. She shot him a silencing look and continued. “But I’m doing some research. Pretty high-brow stuff.”

Hadley grumbled.

Mable sat on the bed and pulled at Hadley’s arm until the girl sat beside her. “I know you’re mad at me, and you have every right to be. And I know it’s hard to understand, but this is the best way to keep you safe.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child. I’m fifteen!”

Mable pressed her lips together. “I know. I know you are. I just need you to trust me. And I only get to be here for a couple days. So don’t be mad okay?”

Hadley simmered in her seat, her arms crossed and her eyes on the floor. Mable knew her well enough to recognize when she was only pretending to be angry.

“What’s wrong?” She put an arm around Hadley’s shoulders and pulled the girl into her chest.

“You were just gone. We went to that access port and there were all those guys and you were just gone. They brought me back, but I thought I’d never see you again.”

Mable realized at once. “You thought it was your fault.”

Hadley’s head nodded against her chest.

“It wasn’t your fault. Not at all. I chose to leave. It was my decision. It had nothing to do with you,” she lied. “And Arturo is a rat bastard. I knocked him out for you.”

“What? You went back?” Hadley lifted her head and searched Mable’s face for any sign of a lie.

“Yep. Punched him square in the jaw. Ask Theo.” They both looked up at him and thankfully, he nodded. He actually smiled a little, too. In fact, they all did.

Theo moved across the room and sat on Mable’s former bed. “He just fell into a pile.”

“A big pile,” Mable laughed.

“Man, I wish I could have been there! You’re no fun.” Hadley turned and pulled at the stack of shirts, holding up each one and admiring their fabric or details. “These are really nice. You sure I can have all this?”

“Of course, angel. No one else I’d rather have it.”

A deep, rusty voice sounded from the entry. “Well if I’d known we were supposed to bring presents, I’d have brought something.”

Like a phantom he appeared, dark and lurking like always. Rowen’s jaw was set tight, as if he were pissed to find her there.

Mable didn’t care.

She jumped up and flung her arms around his neck. “Hey May,” he whispered in her ear. His arms wrapped behind her and squeezed her tight. She knew their past fights were forgiven. He was just as happy to see her.

“And who is this?” he asked as he set her down. His voice was intentionally rough.

Mable touched back to the ground and said, “This is Theo. He’s just here to watch out for me.” Turning to Theo she added, “This is Rowen.”

“I thought you said he tried to kill you?” Hadley asked innocently.

Mable saw it play out in slow motion, unable to stop it.

Rowen lurched forward a single step. His arm pulled back behind him, cocked and ready. Then he let it fly into Theo’s left cheek.

Poor Theo. He didn’t stand a chance. His eyes rolled back in his head as he collapsed backward. His head struck the stone wall.

“Rowen!” Mable shouted as she crossed the small room to her former, now-dead partner. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Hadley watched the whole thing in silence. When the room was still, she covered her mouth and gasped. “Did you just kill Mable’s boyfriend in my room?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

She pulled his head off the wall and stared at the smear of blood there. She hoped he wasn’t really dead.

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