Chapter Three — Stuck in the Middle with You

Aecker and Dyllian walk in moments later. Dyllian looks exhausted, his face dark with ash and dust, the white creases around his eyes mapping his daily struggles. Around his mouth and nose, the skin is clean. The autumn color is gone from his flesh, as if a breathing mask had been worn. He looks at me, half smiling. For a moment I think he might even be happy to see me. Then unexpectedly, his mouth opens.

“What did I tell you about these damned books?” he screams.

He lurches forward, coming right for the book I left on the bunk. I take in Aecker’s reaction, the paling of his face, the dramatic dip in his mood like he is about to lose something precious. Even though Dyllian is twice my size, I stop him dead in his tracks with a blow to his chest. Stumbling back, he looks dazed and shocked. The thumping of his heart and quickening pace tug at my awareness. Can everyone sense these faint changes in the human body?

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.” I stare at my hands, and then grab the book.

“It’s for me,” I say quickly. “I asked your brother to teach me how to read words.”

I can see Dyllian is mad and confused. I know he wants to point out the fact that all the pieces have revealed themselves. Trackers have no need for reading in that, I am indeed a trained assassin that can tune in to inaudible signs of pulse increases. But to my surprise, he takes it out on his brother. He blames him for my intrusion on their lives. He knows that the rest of Cupola is growing concerned about my presence.

“I don’t want you to lie for him.” He spins around. “Where are they, Aecker?” He strips the bed of its sheets and mattress.

I move to stand with my feet covering the underside of the bunk, hoping they can hide all the stacks of books hidden there. I also have a feeling Aecker and Dyllian have been through this before.

He drops to his stomach and peeks under the bed, looking right through my legs as I clutch the book in my hand.

“Damn it, Aecker! Please tell me it’s for burning, not reading. Please tell me you didn’t waste your scouting time to go crap hunting again.”

“We can burn them, after I read them first.” Aecker crosses his arms over his chest in a show of defiance.

“A complete waste of time, little brother. You know how much smoke paper creates. It’s useless during any other time other than when the storm clouds are hovering.” He almost seems pleased about the fact. “You won’t have any time at all to read even one.” Dyllian shakes his head. “I don’t want to say this to you, but you are seriously an embarrassment. You are a soldier, not a girl. Your purpose is us, our survival.”

“I can do both. One day you will see the true value in reading.” Aecker smiles.

“See? That’s what I am talking about. You probably could do both, but it’s not at all good for your credibility. The colony needs warriors, not nerds. If you are to take over―”

“I don’t want to take over anything, I told you that.”

Dyllian spins toward me, a tornado of rage, sorrow and hurt. “You need to leave. Tonight.”

It’s way sooner than I hoped, but perhaps it’s for the best. Clearly, Aecker has his place and I am only in his way, in the way of these survivors’ continued endurance. I nod once in absolute agreement, already imagining the thrill and fear of exploring the outside world.

“No,” Aecker says.

“It’s for the best, Aecker.” Dyllian strips his filter and chucks it in the incinerator, then looks down at me, only half meeting my gaze. “I will have to get you a mask first.”

“I got here without one. I’m sure I will be fine.”

“Very well, then.” Dyllian’s face is hard. He seems withdrawn.

“Wait, what?” Aecker pushes his brother, standing face-to-face with him.

I get the feeling Dyllian might be afraid of something, perhaps of hurting his brother, or... could it be that it is his brother he fears? Aecker does seem more reckless, he has that look in his eyes, like anything could happen. Aecker is a tiny bit smaller than Dyllian, his hair a shade lighter, but they have the same strong facial features. Gorgeous creatures cut out of rock, molded and perfectly beautiful.

“You are going to kick her out? Dyllian, where will she go?”

Dyllian grunts. “It’s not safe for her here.”

“Nothing will happen to her as long as I am here.”

“And when you aren’t here? Who’s going to see that no harm comes to her? Everyone suspects what she is. People are starting to whisper, and they won’t hesitate to take her out. I am surprised someone hasn’t come here to do the job already.”

My stomach twists with a horrible, sharp pain. Noah. This just got ugly fast. I should have left last night, or even the night before. Now I’m in the middle of a family feud. No, I am the cause of it.

“Aecker, your brother is right.”

“No,” he replies, grabbing the book from my hands. “I will take care of you. I will never abandon you like that. You deserve to be happy, and you deserve to be a part of something.”

“It’s okay, Aecker,” I huff. “I know I have to. I don’t belong here. I can’t live like this… stuck like this.”

“Then I’ll be stuck with you.”

I shake my head, and Dyllian sighs heavily—like he is about to give up.

“Where do you belong, then?” Aecker asks, stalking ever closer.

The closer he gets, the more my body reacts to him. He is a breath just out of reach, one I can’t quite seem to catch but am in desperate need of in order to feel alive. I shrug. Looking in Aecker’s eyes, I feel I can break. I can’t imagine not seeing him, not hearing his soft breathing at night. It might only have been three days, but he is all I know. Before him, I had no identity. No feeling of flight and beauty. No feeling of my heart being on fire. Before him, I had no desire. I simply had nothing.

“I will go with you until you find your place,” Aecker offers, his hand grabbing hold of mine.

“You can’t leave me!” Dyllian kicks the chair in a mad fit. “What do you think is going to happen when everyone notices you are gone? They will hunt you. They would rather you be dead than risk everything we have built here. Giving your life for anyone else will be seen as a flaw.”

Tension permeates the air, it ripples throughout the room. Everything suddenly becomes dark with sharp edges cutting away all that is unsaid. As silence mounts, I just stand there, watching them ogle each other, a thousand uncertainties floating around in their heads.

Aecker opens his mouth to finally say something when a loud thump resonates down the passage, shaking the bunker. We watch in silence as bits of stone and sand rain down from the ceiling, like a desert hurricane.

Dyllian runs to the door, punches the wall and a row of guns pop out―like a file cabinet was opened, only instead of harmless folders its lined with shotguns and ammunition. He grabs two weapons, hands Aecker a gorgeous Colt handgun, and keeps the Chris Vector for himself. The king of all machine guns, it eats through metal, stone and wood like a school of piranhas searching for nothing more than steel and bone. Reaching for the filters stacked in the corner closet, he swings on his facemask and disappears down the passage.

“Stay here!” Aecker shouts through his mask.

I have no intention of staying. I think he sees that.

He leans forward, cups my left cheek with his hand, and pulls down the mask. “Please? For me?” His eyes beg.

I don’t nod. I won’t be part of Cupola’s undoing. I will not hurt him this way. The unraveling of hundreds of free civilian families will not be on my head, or his. Aecker will understand. He has to.

As he leaves, I feel myself die a little inside. I’m so confused, scared and happy all at the same time. I grab a bag, some dust masks, the book, as well as snatch a flint and a small pocket knife lying on a drum near the incinerator shoot. I change quickly into the figure-hugging, gray suit Aecker found me in. In it, I melt right into the bunker’s background, the only exception being my blond hair. Reaching into the burn shoot, I grab ashes and literally wash my hair with it in the hope it creates some form of much needed camouflage.

The light flickers above me as another tremor shakes the walls. Snatching up the bag, my stomach drops. I feel it go, leaving me with nothing but a burning ache―loss. The gun rack is still open and I am tempted to grab one, but I know they might need it more. Peeking around the corner, I see a long tunnel dotted with tiny lights. They cast dark and light patches down the long hall. Further down, I spot a row of dark, green doors as the corridor rounds off.

My rubber-soled boots hardly make a sound on the concrete floor as I slink past the row of doors. Hearing footsteps rushing my way, I decide to escape through one of the doors. Turning the handle, I step inside the black room. Luckily, it is stark empty, but cold and dark as hell. I skulk into the shadows as a herd of footsteps rush past loudly, voices shouting. None are familiar, which is good, I suppose. More footsteps rush past, and I suddenly realize there must be an easy exit in the direction they are headed.

The light above my head is dim. Looking up, I suddenly notice what the strange noises are. While I attempt to swallow my gasp of surprise and disgust, I witness the ceiling crawling with bugs. I shuffle along the wall and my foot comes to a halt when I kick something hard. Immediately jumping back, I realize a leg wearing a black shoe with a silver tip is my barrier. I run. I run fast to the center light and start smacking the disturbed bugs. As the crawling insects numbly fall to their death, the light starts filling in the shadows and I turn back to inspect the body I know awaits. The hand is quick as it reaches out and grabs me, spins me around, and shoves me against the wall.

Noah.

“What do you want?” I sneer.

“What are you doing in here?”

“None of your business.” I try to push him off, but he slams me back into the concrete.

“They are here for you.” He points up at the ceiling.

“What?”

“I should kill you.”

“What are you waiting for?” I grimace.

“I ain’t.” He grabs for his gun.

My arm shoots out. On instinct alone, I smash it into his throat, push him backward and make my escape down the tunnel, not knowing what or who awaits me.