Salvation Page 10

  “When I was six, I went out to dinner with my father,” he began. “It was a very big deal, because he was always involved in business. It’s not like he didn’t have time for me, but dinner out was business time. So I was dressed up. Sitting next to him in the back of an Italian restaurant that was exclusive, small and private. And he was asking me about school. He gave me sips from his red wine.” He smiled, closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, they were troubled. “A man approached the table. My father said, ‘I’m out to dinner with my son. This is family time. Please, sit.’ Which didn’t make sense to me. A minute after the man sat, my father drove a knife through the top of his hand, nailing it to the table. He made a deal with the man, removed the knife and the man stumbled away. My father turned to me and said, ‘This is family business, Paul. There’s no way to even separate family from the family business.’”

  She listened carefully as Keller gave her that glimpse into his troubled, violent life, telling her why he was the way he was. “You can understand Bishop because of where you came from.”

  “Yes.” He studied her. “You’re surprised I didn’t kill Bishop when I learned he’d killed Victor.”

  “Yes.”

  “Bishop is a much better man than Victor. I failed my son. Coddled him. If I’d taken him to dinner and cut through a man’s hand, he wouldn’t have died the way he did. I’m certain of that.”

  “People are born the way they are. No changing it,” Bishop drawled from the doorway. “Gotta stop with that guilt shit.”

  But Luna understood it. Feeling that you could’ve fixed/done something, even should’ve, was way better than being helpless/knowing you did nothing.

  “He really doesn’t have any regrets,” Keller said of Bishop, looking at him fondly.

  “He doesn’t believe in them.”

  “Do you, Luna?”

  She thought about it for a long moment before telling him, “Yes, I have to.”

  “Maybe more time with Bishop will cure you of that,” Keller said with a nod in Bishop’s direction.

  * * *

  Keller and Bishop talked for a few minutes outside the garage while Luna wrapped up some stuff she’d been working on. Truthfully, she was sorry to have to leave and she wasn’t sure why Bishop was here so early.

  When she realized that she’d been working for nearly eight hours, she couldn’t believe it. The time did fly...and Keller coming to talk to her had made her both uneasy and more comfortable all at one.

  “This place is really weird,” she muttered as she closed and locked the toolbox up. The key would go to the guards until tomorrow morning when she came back. She’d given them a list of parts she’d need and they’d promised her that she’d have them by early next week.

  She didn’t want any more details than that.

  “Luna, we’ve got to go,” Bishop called. He was calm, but there was something in his demeanor that had her taking him seriously. She grabbed her coat, gave the key to the guards and let Bishop take her hand.

  The compound was in its usual party mode. Nothing seemed different and she was about to ask him if he was fighting tonight when he stopped dead and just stared into the distance. She waited next to him, heard him mutter, “Shit,” and then he was urging her along again.

  The rain began as she was going down into the tunnel. The fat drops splashed around her, making the ladder slippery. She held on tightly, making it to the bottom as fast as she could. Bishop was right behind her, told her to head into his place.

  She did...leaving the door unlocked behind her. It was only when he came inside that she realized he’d sensed the storm.

  And she hadn’t. “I can usually tell when one’s coming,” she said now.

  “Your mojo’s probably a little off here. Mine was too, at first,” he admitted. “I felt it hours ago. Waited as long as I could to come grab you.”

  Thunder rumbled overhead, the sound angry, the menace enough to shake the well-placed tubes. She knew they were built to do that, to have a little give. She knew they were completely stable, even if the ground flooded. But still...”This is a bad one.”

  Bish looked up at the ceiling and back down to her, then simply nodded.

  She wrapped her arms around herself and stared upward too. For a while, they listened to the rolling thunder and the hard pelts of rain and hail hitting the ground. The lights flickered, a warning that the generators would no doubt shut down until the worst of the storm passed, just as a safety measure.

  Bishop moved to light the oil lamp and a few candles before that happened. When the lights did go out, the softer lights from the flickering flames were actually more comforting than the harsh fluorescents.

  Although the first storms that came with the Chaos lasted for hours—and some of them days—all the ones after that first week were of a much shorter duration.

  She checked the clock and realized they’d been pretty much standing at attention for over an hour, and that the storm was actually getting more fierce, not improving. And she couldn’t see what was happening outside, which made every sound more frightening. Her imagination could easily get the best of her, and she couldn’t think that everyone’s would during times like this.

  Luna’s name wasn’t an accident—her mother had always called her moon baby, told her she’d been conceived on a full moon, born under one, literally, outside, delivered by a midwife on the Defiance property. She’d had a connection with the night, which is why post-Chaos darkness hadn’t bothered her the way it had most.

  But she’d lost both parents during the initial storm.

  “Rebel saved my life,” she told him now. “During the storms—my house collapsed. My parents were killed instantly. I was trapped downstairs. The only reason I was saved was because I was preparing to run away.”

  “And you think if you hadn’t been ready to go, that the Chaos wouldn’t have happened.”

  “I’m not that powerful,” she told him.

  He’d laughed a little. “It’s amazing the shit we can talk ourselves into though, right?”

  Until he’d said that, she hadn’t realized how much guilt she’d been carrying around with her.

  A harsh knock on the main door leading toward the other tubes made her jump. Bishop opened it and she looked over and saw Keller’s guards. They spoke in low voices and then they were gone, and Bishop was locking the door behind them.

  “They do hourly checks during the storms,” he told her. “They said food will be delivered within the hour, and we have to stay put.”

  “Is it still bad?” she asked after he shut the door this time.

  He nodded, ran a hand through his hair. He’d starting pacing like a caged lion in the last few hours. The space they were in was a good size, enough to fool yourself into thinking you weren’t underground.

  Almost. Until she remembered she couldn’t look out windows. She could see the outside though, if she’d wanted to, because Bishop had built in the extra periscope himself. It was just like the ones found in submarines, because Defiance’s founders had been Navy UDT divers, and spent a lot of time on subs during their military careers.

  She glanced at the periscope and Bishop told her, “Go ahead—check it out.”

  But she realized that she really didn’t want to know what was happening out there. And even though they might’ve come back here and spent the rest of the night inside, the fact that they couldn’t go outside at all was making her crazy. “I hate this.”

  “Join the club.”

  “I thought you’d spent time on a sub—I figured you’d feel right at home.”

  Bishop sat on the edge of the bed, then lay back, propping his head up on his arms. “I did. And no, the sub never felt like home. It was fucking horrible.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He patted the
bed next to him and she joined him, sitting at first, and then lying down next to him, on her back, staring at the patterns in the ceiling, drawn with fluorescent paint around the mirror.

  It took her a few moments to realize that they were the blueprints to the tubes that surrounded them. The exit strategy. She put her focus on Bishop’s reflection in the mirror instead.

  “Not your fault the sub sucked.”

  “I guess that’s a part of the military you didn’t like,” she said.

  He didn’t say anything for a long while and then he started out with, “After the Chaos hit and Mathias and I joined the military, we were shipped out in subs to wait out the remainder of the storms, and also so they could assess what kind of damage they were dealing with. We were going to be the second wave—no pun intended. It was fucking crazy. They picked all young, strong guys, packed us into these metal cans and sent us out. We weren’t far offshore, although we didn’t know that at the time. And rumor had it that some of the ships were packed with women.”

  She’d been staring at him in disbelief, and managed to ask, “Procreation?” even as her belly twisted. And it had nothing to do with the continuing storm.

  “No one had any fucking clue what was going to happen. So it makes sense. Keep us safe and then bring us back to repopulate the world. We had all the shots and antibiotics. We were checked and cleared medically before we got on board. Didn’t know till later that the rejected guys got sent into battle to deal with looters and other shit.”

  “How long were you out there?”

  “Less than a month. Felt like a hell of a lot longer, though. Picture a space smaller than these tubes.” The tunnels here were smaller than Defiance’s, although they were built around the same specs. “We slept two to a bunk, and we slept in shifts because there wasn’t enough space. Food got delivered to the sub, at least. Porn too. They wanted us happy.”

  Even though his voice was casual, she could see the tension in his body. He was reliving it. “Once we realized there was no end in sight, a lot of the guys started talking about rebelling. Rioting. Thing was, they brought in big, physically healthy guys but they didn’t have the time to do any psych exams.”

  She pulled her knees to her chest.

  “Lot of these big, healthy guys ran from collapsed prisons and mental hospitals. A lot of them were criminals who just hadn’t gotten caught yet. And they all just went fucking nuts. Mathias and I hoarded weapons, and we had our escape plans from day one. Finally, when there were full-fledged riots on the verge of happening, they brought the sub up and docked us. Jailed all of us and then they did the psych exams.”

  “So you passed then?” she teased, and he pointed at her and smiled for the first time in a while.

  “Yes, wiseass. With flying colors.” He shook his head, then admitted, “It’s really easy to fake being mentally fit, if you know what they’re looking for.”

  Another loud rumble from overhead—the loudest yet—got both their attention. There was a slam and the tube—the earth—shook.

  He was up in seconds, pulling her toward the closet structure, similar to where they’re needed to be during an earthquake. After several minutes, the shaking stopped and an eerie quiet fell over everything.

  “That almost sounds like a military vehicle. A tank,” Bishop said, more to himself than to her.

  “In the middle of a storm? Who can get through in that?”

  He glanced at her. “The military.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rebel

  Declan’s truck was in the lot. Rebel pulled in next to it, was about to get out when thunder rumbled ominously. He could still go inside—there was an underground component to the bar built by Defiance for Keller like Defiance had for many of Keller’s businesses, but it was basic.

  If he gunned it, he might make it back to the new compound. But fuck, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to see Declan again, partly to see how Luna was faring, but partly because of what Rebel had known from the second he’d laid eyes on Declan—he wasn’t going to be able to stop. There were some pretty specific reasons for that, ones Rebel wanted to explore in full.

  The other night, they’d ended up in Rebel’s truck, the only compromise they could come up with, stroking each other until they both came. It hadn’t been enough. Rebel had gone home and jerked off twice, calling out Declan’s name while he did so.

  Now, Declan slammed out of the bar, caught sight of Rebel’s truck immediately, like he’d been expecting to find him.

  Rebel rolled down the window and Declan said, “Storm’s coming in fast—a bad one. Follow me to my place.”

  He stared at Declan. It’s not like the guy could’ve planned the storm to trap him, but still...”I can just stay here.”

  Declan shook his head. “Your choice. It’s packed in there. And I know you want more.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I haven’t been able to lose this hard-on since the other night with you.” With that, he went to his Humvee and backed out of the space. And waited.

  “Fuck me,” Rebel muttered, then pulled out and followed Declan. The rain started after five minutes on the road, and the second half of the short trip was pretty treacherous. The roads flooded easily, the rain came down in sheets and Rebel sighed with relief when he followed Declan’s truck up a ramp and into a garage.

  He turned the truck off, grabbed his bag, the one he always kept with him just in case, and followed Declan into the underground. The rain slammed the metal roof, the walls meant to give a little while the wind swayed around them and the thunder was a continuous boom.

  That all silenced when he climbed down the ladder behind Declan and Declan closed and locked the trap door. Declan’s place was underground, a Defiance-made tube, guarded by stony-faced men who Declan didn’t acknowledge.

  “No cameras until you get past that point.” Declan showed him the hallway that connected to the main compound, running under the high gates.

  “Then what’s that?”

  “A camera I can turn on and off if I’m feeling threatened,” Declan told him. “You can see for yourself that it’s off.”

  Rebel didn’t want to see anything. Locking himself inside Declan’s underground tube was too goddamned symbolic for him to assess at the moment, and maybe he’d regret it. But when he got off the ladder and faced Declan and saw the heat in Declan’s eyes, Rebel didn’t think so.

  “Call Bishop.”

  Declan did, using the intercom system, listening while Bishop told his Keller partner-in-crime that he and Luna were safely inside. When he hung up, he said, “Satisfied?”

  “Not yet.” He pushed against Declan’s shoulders, and Declan took a step back.

  “Are you here because of Luna...or for me?”

  “Both. And does it matter?”

  “Yeah, it goddamned matters. So if Luna was back in Defiance, safe and sound?”

  Rebel’s voice was rough when he admitted, “I’d still come.”

  “Why?”

  “Because maybe Luna doesn’t have to be the only one who understands me.”

  Declan smiled. “Now what?”

  “Bed. Now. Strip first.”

  Declan took a deep breath, like he was letting everything go. And then he followed Rebel’s instructions.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hours later, the rain was a dull pound on the earth above them and the thunder had stopped rumbling.

  “Sounds like the storm’s gone. We just need to stay put until Keller confirms it,” Bishop said. There had been the hourly knocks at their door from the guards, and they were due for one again soon.

  They’d only heard that giant tank-like roar a few more times, and each time, Bishop had visibly tensed. She knew he was AWOL—to hear the men talk about it
, there were more men out of the military than in at this point.

  Now, she asked him, “If that is the military...will Keller turn you in? Does he even know you’re AWOL?”

  “No idea if he knows. But he’d turn anyone in if it benefitted him the most.”

  “Maybe they’re not even keeping records. They probably don’t care.”

  Bishop stared at her. “I was good, Luna. They’d want me back. Mathias too, but I’d never let them know where he is.”

  Finally, she asked the question that neither of them wanted to say out loud. “Suppose they’ve already gone through Defiance?”

  “We’re going to have to find a way to figure out if that’s happening.”

  “So this has never happened before?”

  “No. Then again, we haven’t had a storm this bad since I’ve been here. This could be a regular thing.”

  “So what, Keller’s got the military in his pocket?” she asked.

  “It makes sense, if Keller’s supporting a lot of the government’s plans,” he murmured. She knew which plans he was talking about too—the ones that brought Jessa to Defiance, in a roundabout way. The ones that had the president ordering the extermination of certain areas he deemed “trouble.”

  It was only because of what Jessa knew, and promised to keep secret, that Defiance was off the list. Victor had been involved, but whether or not Keller knew...

  “Keller knows everything,” Bishop said, as if reading her mind. They’d obviously gone to the same place while thinking about this possible military intervention happening above ground. “There’s no way he wouldn’t be in on this. Victor would need his help, his okay.”

  She rubbed her arms. “Will we ever not be helpless?”

  “We’re not, Luna. Not really. We just have to be smart about it.” He gave her a small smile. “Let’s concentrate on finding out about Defiance.”

  He got out of bed, pulled on a pair of shorts and went into one of the cabinets. He came out with a SAT phone-like device, punched in a few numbers, then replaced the phone.