Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
My head was pounding. Resting my cheek against the glass of the car, I sighed with relief because the cool felt nice against my skin.
We’d been on the road for hours, the monotonous hum of the tires a constant drone, and although I longed to see the bleak, dystopian landscape, I couldn’t bear to open my eyes.
My night went exactly as you’d expect—Nessa and I listened to the same song on repeat, its melody weaving through our laughter and gossip as we sipped wine.
As much entertainment I got out of discussing Nessa’s lust for Jude, as soon as the wine touched my lips, I couldn’t stop.
I’ll admit, the wine tasted like vinegar, but I missed the carefree feeling of being silly and giggly with my friend, even if it was fueled by subpar alcohol.
Unfortunately, I was paying for last night’s fun today.
“How’re you doing back there?” Jude’s head swiveled around the seat in front of me with a sheepish smile plastered across his face. “A little sleepy, are you?”
“Fuck off,” I mumbled. He knew I didn’t feel well, did he have to be so damn annoying? Maybe I shouldn’t have saved him from the Dog.
“Do you want some water?”
“I don’t want your help.” We don’t get hangovers in Elysium because all our wine is infused with my blood. The chances of finding any to cure me in a van with six other people were scarce. Plus, I didn’t want to start sucking on my wrist and give them a reason to be nervous.
“Alright.” He shrugged smugly. “Then suffer.”
“Been doing that since I met you,” I mumbled, resting my skin against the cool glass again.
When we first left Silvertown in the car, Jude turned the radio on and flipped through the channels.
We sat in silence, listening to static for hours before he turned it off, leaving the air bathed in silence.
This was an absolute nightmare.
A large man, introduced as Three, sat beside me, sweating profusely on the car’s cracked leather seat.
Apparently, humans in the military used numbers as names.
Jude tried explaining why, but I didn’t care enough to listen.
Both men were bald and had constant beads of sweat dripping down their neck rolls.
Behind me, Eleven and Twelve, two blond women with knives strapped to their waists and hidden in their jacket pockets, glared at me with icy expressions from their seats.
Driving the van was a man named Eight whose belly rested on the steering wheel.
Straight ahead, the sun’s light blazed into the van in a fiery orange glow, indicating we had a few more hours before the sun dipped below the horizon. “Look at that building.” Jude’s fingertip extended, pressing against the window. “What’s that place?”
I lifted my eyelids and saw a faded red building with a garden of broken cars in an old parking lot. The entrance was marked by enormous red balls and a heavy, circular sign, cracked and dirty, that leaned precariously against the jagged edges of the broken glass doors.
Eight, the large man driving spoke in a raspy, but gruff voice, “Sold guns, I’d assume.”
“And knives,” agreed Eleven from behind me.
“I dunno.” Jude wrapped his fingers around his chin like he was thinking. “Maybe it was an indoor shooting range?”
I let out a breath of air—half laughing, half exasperated with the conversation from those in my company. “It used to be a store, and they sold everything from groceries to household items. I remember my mother used to bring me there, and we would travel up and down the aisles for hours.”
With her shrill voice, Twelve asked, “Is that what you did for fun before the war?”
My lip curled before I answered, feeling her judgment. “No… Target always sold interesting items, things to make life easier you didn’t know you needed.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t remember, that was over sixty-five years ago.” I whipped my head around and shrugged my shoulders. “You know what? Let’s play a game… The quiet game. Anyone who speaks loses.”
A breath escaped her nose, and a silent chuckle passed between them. Their stifled laughter made me roll my eyes and throw myself back against the seat. My hands clenched, knuckles white, as I fought the overwhelming urge to turn and unleash my fury upon them.
“Whoa, whoa.” Jude put his hands up. “Let’s calm down and continue to get along.
We have to work together to complete this mission.
” The gray sky outside shifted to a vibrant yellow twilight, and the red bean pointed straight ahead.
“We’re still on the right path. Let’s find shelter before nightfall.
The Dogs’ night vision is much more precise than their eyesight during the day. How are we doing on power?”
Before the war, the world transitioned to electric vehicles, boasting batteries powerful enough for cross-country trips. With Silvertown’s limited electricity, it took a week for a car to get a full charge, so I could imagine how long they were planning to ambush Elysium with the helicopter.
“We’re doing good,” Eight answered. “Only used about a quarter of our charge, so this should be enough to get us there and back home.” He turned on the van’s headlights and pointed ahead.
“I’m gonna take this turn, and from here, it’s a straight shot.
We can find an abandoned house to sleep in for the night and get back on the road first thing in the morning. ”
“Let’s do it.”
With that, the van swerved left, its tires bumping over the uneven pavement, the jarring jolts punctuated by the occasional thud of a pothole.
Was this the wrong choice? Is this bumpy road a metaphor for where we were heading?
The buildings grew sparser as we drove, the last few stores replaced by a landscape of snowy white hills.
The tracking bean remained straight as the twilight deepened, painting the sky with hues of orange and purple, and a chill wind whispered through the barren trees as the sun’s last rays faded.
“I think we found our humble abode.” Straight ahead and perched atop a hill was a small, two-story house, its paint weathered by sun and time.
Eight smoothly turned the wheel, guiding the van into the driveway with a gentle sigh of the engine’s quiet power, then switched the headlights off.
“Let’s bring our equipment inside for the night, making sure not to make too much noise. ”
I pulled the door’s lever, the rusty mechanism protesting with a screech, and stepped onto the frozen earth, hearing the satisfying crunch of frost beneath my boots.
Eight ripped open the back doors of the van, tossing rifles, shotguns, and backpacks filled with supplies to each person as they piled out.
“You okay over there? I turned to see Jude struggling with four leather straps, each holding a heavy gun as he tried to secure them to his shoulders.
I had to stop myself from laughing out loud.
He looked like someone trying to carry too many grocery bags at one time.
As soon as he gathered them, one loosened, fell off his shoulder, and went down his arm.
I balanced the box on my knee and held out my arm. “Let me help.”
With rosy cheeks from the cold, Jude paused, contemplating giving me a weapon before skeptically slinging one of the heavy guns around my shoulder.
One by one, the rest of the crew walked toward the house, their footsteps crunching on the gravel path.
We gathered on the creaky front porch and, without breaking eye contact, Three quietly twisted the doorknob and disappeared inside.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
“Surveillance,” Jude whispered back. “He’s making sure the house is empty. We not only have to worry about vampires and Dogs, but there may also be humans out here who have nothing to lose.”
I had assumed the remaining humans were all in Silvertown. I never thought they would be living off the lam, being extremely careful the Dogs don’t catch them, and scrounging for food. It didn’t seem like a good way to live. A half-life.
Three reappeared in the doorway, his gun crossed against his chest. “All clear, come in.”
The cold penetrated my core, and even though the house was empty, it felt warm. The air seemed thick with the weight of forgotten joys and sorrows, a reminder of the past lives that had once lived here. Old floorboards groaned under our weight, and flakes of snow littered the ground.
The house was small but had a warm, homey feel.
We walked into a closet-sized room, with dirty shoes haphazardly thrown on the floor, and a tiny raincoat hanging on a hook.
With a soft thud, I dropped the boxes onto the aged wooden table, disturbing a thick layer of dust that billowed into in a small brown cloud.
The modest kitchen opened into a living room with worn couches and chairs arranged around a large, stone fireplace.
A discolored rectangle where a television was once mounted sat above the hearth.
To my right was a staircase that led to the second floor.
I walked through the house, pausing to study each faded photograph of a small family, their faces smiling up at me from the walls.
They looked kind, their smiles warm and genuine, and they were dressed in clothes that screamed the nineties—plaid shirts and high-waisted jeans.
The mother’s curly hair, a wild halo of dark brown, contrasted with the two young boys’ matching blond haircuts.
The father’s grin was wide and proud as he displayed an enormous fish to the camera.
I smiled at the pictures, remembering a simpler time.
My heart yearned for those days back. When my dad was happy, and my mother was still alive.
When I was a little boy, the only thing I was worried about was the best place not to get caught during a game of hide-and-seek.
I turned to the fireplace and asked, “Do you think we could start a fire?”
Eleven jeered at me and threw a blanket into my arms. Her eyebrows rose in annoyance. “Yeah, start a fire if you want. The smoke will alert every Dog in the area.”
“Yeah, great idea, idiot,” Twelve condescendingly agreed, her eyes rolling as she let out a dramatic sigh.
Darkness fell, and the last sliver of light disappeared, leaving us in quiet darkness as we slowly unpacked our supplies for the night. My hand trembled slightly as I touched the aged, worn wood of the staircase railing, silently praying it wouldn’t give way under my weight.
Thankfully, it didn’t.
“Where’re you going?” Jude’s concerned face looked up at me. “We should stick together.”
I shrugged. “Just going upstairs to find a bed to sleep in.”
“Oh,” Twelve elbowed Eleven. “The little prince wants to sleep in a bed tonight. I guess that means us peasants have to sleep on the floor.”
Ignoring their taunts, I climbed the creaking staircase, my chin lifted in defiance. I didn’t give the two immature women the satisfaction of throwing a comment back at them. Instead, I wanted them to revel in their words. After all, it looked like they were used to sleeping on the floor.
Which was the exact comeback I kept to myself.