The Letting (32 page)

“What are you doing?” The look in her eyes changes from anger to fear.

“Moving us forward.”

I shout to them, “I am Veronica Billings. What are you doing here?”

They both pull their guns on us, but one is barely strong enough to hold his upright. The barrel flops down toward the ground. Only one keeps his gun pointed at us.

“Are you converts?” I ask. “With Gunnar’s revolution?”

“Why should we tell you?” the one who seems strong asks.

“Because you are clearly lost. And he is about to die from dehydration,” I point to the second boy. “And you,” I point at the lead boy, “aren’t far behind.” They look at each other, scared and perplexed.

“It was her job,” Brooke comments, stepping up. “She was the single best Leader we have ever known. She is trained to spot dehydration.”

“We can give you water,” I offer, and Brooke looks at me sideways. “But you must tell us who you are.”

The weak Harvester is on his knees. His eyes are so sunken into his head, it looks like they may fall back into his skull at any minute.

“We were Harvesters,” the lead boy admits, putting his gun down. “But there’s no one left to Harvest.”

I see Brooke try to shake off what he is saying.

“So what happened?” I ask.

“Farnsworth let most of us go. But there’s nowhere…” he looks around the woods, his voice trailing off.

“Did you know where your harvested girls went?” I ask.

“To you,” the second one replies, his voice raspy and forced. “Then after they’ve served their time, they are sent on to the New World. Everyone knows that.”

It must be so painful for him to speak there’s no way he would waste his words on lies. I give them a small smile remembering it wasn’t so very long ago I, too, was this dangerous and this ignorant.

“Wow, you people really are stupid,” Brooke cackles.

I pull off my pack and crack a bottle of water.

“Are you insane?” she asks. “We need that.”

“A deal’s a deal.” I hand them a bottle. “You need to share. It’s all we can spare. But there’s a water source that way.” I point toward the direction of the lake. “Head that way, and you should find it before either of you dies.”

“Thank you,” the sicker of the boys utters. They polish off the water.

“Are you planning to join the revolution?” Brooke asks, eyeing them skeptically.

“The only plan we have is to try to survive,” the lead boy answers.

“I understand,” Brooke responds. Then, in an instant, she lifts her gun and shoots each of the boys, square in the forehead.

“Brooke,” I scream, running to the boys.

“What a waste of water,” she chastises. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“You can’t believe I did that? Who are you? You’re crazy!” I lean over both boys, checking their pulses. They are both dead.

“Oh please. You didn’t actually believe that story about them being ‘let go,’ did you?” I stare at her, still in shock. “You did? Jeez Veronica, there isn’t a story you won’t believe. Think about it. How far are we from the city? They’re with Farnsworth. Probably part of the group that marched into my camp. You think these Harvesters just wandered up here?”

“Yes, I do think that. We’re not that far from the city now.”

“Oh.” She looks down at the dead bodies. “Well, we need their uniforms anyway.” She holds her gun to the side and begins to pull the lead boy’s uniform off. The way she handles her gun reminds me of Phoenix. I stand there, staring at her. “Come on, V.” I am stymied by her nickname for me.

“We’re friends now?” I ask.

“Of course not. But V seems to fit you. So come on, snap to it. Help me get these uniforms off them so we can use them.”

“Why?”

“Do you like to play dumb?”

“What I mean is that Gunnar has probably infiltrated Farnsworth’s mansion and the Letting facility by now. Wearing the brown of the Harvesters will only get us killed that much faster.”

“You think he’s that powerful?” she asks, and for the first time she seems unsure of herself.

“He is exponentially more powerful than Farnsworth. Farnsworth only has a small army and his followers of spoiled, rich people. Gunnar has legions of people seeking revenge. Nothing is more powerful than the desire for revenge. Think about how much you hate me.” Her eyes dart up at me.

“That’s a good point. Seems you’re not that stupid after all, V.”

“Gee, thanks,” I mumble.

“Anyway,” she stares directly at my chest. “We wouldn’t have been successful, pretending to be Harvesters. You would have gotten away with it, but no one would have believed I was a boy.” She flashes a tiny smile and hooks her fingers through the straps of her backpack. “Let’s go.”

I tighten my pack as well and step around the two dead bodies. Although it kills me to leave them there like that, I know Gunnar’s revolutionaries would never bury a body, and it would be a tipoff to anyone hunting us. And, we can’t afford to lose any more time.

****

As the sun sets, we trudge onward. We stop only to sleep for a few hours, and then we feel the sun rise and force ourselves to walk on. Finally, we are on the outskirts of the Inferno. This time there is no traffic. There are no families taking a drive with their pets, no people scurrying to and fro, leading their over-privileged lives. It makes me a tiny bit sad. I see the bridge up ahead, and it is completely deserted.

“There’s the bridge,” I whisper and she nods.

She stops to survey the situation, but I know there’s no time to lose. I feel myself holding my breath and actively force it out of my lungs. I put my head down and walk directly for the bridge.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her eyes wide.

“We have no time to lose,” I explain.

“We’ll be spotted!”

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take.” I push forward.

She falls in time next to me, both of us keeping our heads down, walking as quickly as possible. We make it to the highest point of the bridge without incident, but as we begin the descent down, we see trucks parked up ahead.

“Friend or foe?” Brooke whispers.

“They’re all foes,” I reply, and still we walk on.

The trucks don’t move toward us, so they must feel we don’t pose a threat. After all, how much threat could two overly tall young women carrying shotguns pose?

If they only knew.

It is not until we are directly even with the trucks that we see they are abandoned. Pure luck. The chances of lucking out like that again… I refuse to let myself think about it.

We are off the bridge and into the Inferno, and it is eerily quiet. We have another day’s walk to get to Farnsworth’s house, which is the only place we stand a chance of survival.

“Can we get that lucky again?” I ask Brooke and she looks at me, questioning. “Maybe we can,” I mumble.

Without a thought, I break from Brooke and sprint back to the trucks. I find the keys in the second truck. “Woo-hoo,” I yell, pounding my fist on the steering wheel.

“All right, V.” Brooke slides into the cab of the truck. “This was borderline smart.”

I smile at her as the ignition turns over. I touch gears and knobs and the wheel. It dawns on me I have never driven a truck before.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Brooke asks, gripping the seat.

“Uh-uh. You?”

“No.” She looks at the dials in front of me. “I’ve only ever driven the motorbikes.”

“Here we go.” I press on the gas pedal.

The truck moves forward and stalls abruptly. Brooke falls forward and smacks her face on the dash in front of her. She scowls at me.

“Oops,” I say, stifling a laugh. “Sorry.”

“How about you concentrate a little harder?” she warns, pulling the gun on me. “This might help you to focus.”

“Mm,” I mumble, learning by trial and error. Finally, I press a lever with my left foot as I push the gear stick up. Then I ease the left lever and press down on the right. Whenever the truck makes seemingly abnormal noises, I recreate those steps and slowly, bumpily, we head out over the vast, empty highways.

“Whose truck do we figure this is?” Brooke asks. I look at her and see the gun is pointed away from me. Without even realizing it, my shoulders relax. Then I nearly stall the truck, and she shoots me another dirty look. I sit myself up again.

“Don’t know.” I shift into a lower gear as we go up a hill. “But we have a fifty percent chance of not being shot at.”

She nods.

Thankfully, the roads are familiar and, fairly soon, we near the crossroads of Farnsworth’s private drive. I pull the truck off the road and cut the engine.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“We walk from here.” I jump out of the truck and hook on my pack and my gun. She follows. Although it is amazingly abandoned, we walk through the trees lining the road to Farnsworth’s house. Fairly soon, I see the huge white mansion before us. “There,” I point. I have no idea what brought me here. It is the last place Gunnar would keep Phoenix, but at least it’s a place to start. And if Grace is here, at least I’ll have the possibility of an ally.

Somehow, we find our way to a back entrance and I begin to wonder if we are actually going to sneak inside undetected. No sooner do I think the thought, a deafening alarm goes off overhead, and bright white lights envelop us. “Drop your gun,” I whisper to Brooke.

We both throw our guns into the bushes and our hands into the air. Within moments, we are encircled by members of Farnsworth’s army, pointing guns at us.

“I am Veronica Billings,” I declare. “Your last remaining O and Acting Principal Leader. Former Principal Leader Farnsworth is at my camp. He asked me to come. I have news.”

The guards step aside and the back door opens. I watch, my eyes wide, as Farnsworth makes his way to the door.

“Ah, Veronica,” he hums. “I see you’ve decided to join me at last. How wonderful. And by the way, don’t worry about introducing yourself as Acting Principal Leader anymore. You abdicated to me earlier this afternoon. You told the people you were sorry, but you were outmatched. They understood.” He turns to face Brooke. “Oh good.” He smiles his white-toothed, unsettling smile at Brooke. “I see you’ve brought a lovely friend.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

I stare, dumbfounded. “Well, Veronica,” Farnsworth admonishes, “you could have arrived here much more quickly if you would have waited for me to fire up the helicopter.”

Brooke stares at me, and I know if she was still holding her gun, I would be dead right now. “Come in,” he tells us. “Join me for dinner.”

“I don’t want dinner,” I snap. “I want to know where Phoenix is. Do you have him? Or do they?”

“All in good time, Veronica. All in good time.” I can tell how much he enjoys my agony.

It makes me almost wish they would demand a transfusion, so I could give him more poisoned blood.

I am hustled inside to dress and prepare for dinner, while Brooke is taken to her own quarters to do the same. The preparation seems endless, even though this time I have only the choice of one dress, a long, white gown with braided straps and a bodice that hangs loosely from my breasts to the floor. No one even bothers to give me shoes anymore. I walk out into the hallway and meet up with Brooke, who looks ravishing in a floor length, black, body-fitted gown. Her hair is up, and she is completely made-up. I can’t help but notice her incredible breasts spilling up, over the top of her gown. I am certain Farnsworth will notice as well. She wears heels and, in them, she is nearly eye to eye with me.

“Wow Brooke,” I remark, “you look incredible.”

“I know.” She smiles only a half-smile. She is clearly terrified. We are taken to Farnsworth’s dining room, but there is no wait staff scattered about and no food waiting to be served.

“Yes,” Farnsworth mutters, walking slowly into the room. “War is hell.” He motions to the empty room around him. “Everyone who was even remotely loyal to me was forced to fight. So I have nothing to offer you except…” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a protein bar. “Dinner?” he asks. I shake my head, but Brooke snatches the bar. Farnsworth looks at her curiously. I can tell he is unable to figure her out.

“I’m wearing your stupid dress, Farnsworth,” I snarl. “Where is he?” I have the instinct to reach out and choke it out of him.

“Lost all decorum, Veronica?” Farnsworth asks.

“That happens when you lose the person you love.” I see Farnsworth start. I have blasphemed.

“Amen to that,” Brooke adds, looking at me.

“So what’s it going to be,” I ask Farnsworth. “We’ve come all this way. Phoenix and I were here to help you fight Gunnar. We are the only reason you are alive today.”

“Yes,” Farnsworth agrees. “That may very well be true.”

“I want to know where Phoenix is. And I don’t care what you’ve told them. I want to offer the people of the New World the leadership I promised them.”

“That’s very noble, Veronica.” Farnsworth doesn’t move an inch. We stare at each other for what seems an eternity. My mind feels like it’s drifting up out of my body. Finally, Farnsworth turns to face Brooke. “You are very lovely,” he coos. I can see the tiny hairs on her arms bristle. “Ah, but I can tell you’re not my biggest fan, either.”

“No sir, I’m not,” Brooke hisses through her teeth.

“Well, let’s see if we can change that, shall we?” Farnsworth puts his arm out for Brooke to slip hers in.

“I don’t think so, sir,” she retorts, her voice steely.

“I would very much like to take you into the kitchen. See if there is anything left in there that is to your liking.” Brooke eyes him skeptically but walks over to him. She turns back to me to see if I am joining them.

“Oh, don’t worry about your friend,” Farnsworth tells Brooke. “She needs some time to think.”

My eyes close imagining Farnsworth will have me tied to a table in the Letting facility, waiting to be drained. Instead, he pushes open the door that leads to the outside and the ocean.

“You’ve always loved the water,” Farnsworth proposes. “Why don’t you take a stroll?”

I imagine what’s out there: guns and rebels and certain death. But the coolness of the air lures me forward, and I smell the welcoming scent of the ocean. Slowly, without meaning to, my feet make their way to the doorway, and I breathe in the gorgeous night air. I look over my shoulder at Farnsworth.