Chapter 16 #3
“It’s okay. I wanted to remind you that Private Piccolo is cleared to leave, but Doctor Singh says she’s welcome to stay for as long as you need.”
“Thank you,” Taylor replies. “We’ll be on our way shortly. Tell Doctor Singh we appreciate what she’s done for us. I’ve reported her exemplary care to Theia, as well as the service of everyone else here.”
The nurse tucks her hair behind her ears, blushing. “Thank you, Eos. Take care, Lucy.”
“You too, Georgina,” I call from the bed with a wave.
Georgina has been a very attentive nurse, but it has a lot less to do with my care than it does her obvious, grating crush on Taylor. Just once, I’d like to go somewhere I don’t have to keep the help off my captor.
Taylor stretches her arms above her head and cracks her neck. Three nights of slumping over me like a guard dog has surely put her bones out of whack. I look at her expectantly. “So, when do the three of us head out?”
Taylor cocks her head. “Three?”
“Me and my new passenger. I’m thinking I should name it.”
She blinks, rubbing her eyes as if it’s the lack of sleep and not my foolishness keeping her from understanding me. “Passenger?”
“The bullet, dummy.” I pat the bandage on my hip keeping the bullet packed inside my flesh. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
“I think it is a bullet,” she says. “And I think we need to get your head checked before we leave.”
“Possibly. At least now we can be bullet-wound buddies.”
The half-amused look on her face breaks into an actual smile and she laughs breathlessly. “That we can.” Taylor’s watch beeps and joy evacuates her body in double time. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Eos. How are you?” Theia’s voice punctures the room like a pick into thick ice.
Taylor looks at me, then down to her watch. “I am fine, thank you. How are you, ma’am?”
“Quite well. I am in Atlanta with our troops. The latest update from the Northwest is positive. Jacks have surrendered en masse. The only resistance we are seeing is from pockets of militia.”
“They surrendered?” I ponder aloud.
Theia’s light chuckle comes through the speaker. “Miss Piccolo. And how are you faring?”
“You know, peachy as usual.”
“Good. And yes, they surrendered. Fewer Jacks exist than Dusters, and they work under a cohesive leadership. Their commanding officer detailed their surrender to me last night.”
“Under what conditions?” Taylor asks.
“That Reed’s surviving children continue to live in Canada, which I agreed to with the stipulation they may never reenter our regions, and their citizenship is fully revoked. The Jacks will be assimilated into our ranks.”
“Sounds reasonable,” I say. Taylor appears to agree.
“Well, it is partially due to the absolute walloping the Dusters took in the MidCountry. No one on either side wanted to see that level of bloodshed in another region.” Taylor’s mood visibly darkens as she takes in Theia’s words.
“However, I do believe the sparing of the children was of particular importance to their leader. I imagine he was close to them, as Reed’s top general.
Eos tells me that was your idea, Miss Piccolo. ”
“Well, I’m sure it was purely a self-serving suggestion.” When I try meet Taylor’s gaze, she ducks it to the ground.
“In any case, it seems to have worked in currying favor in that region. Our subregion leaders there say many of the populace support the transfer of power. Junior is healing up well, last I heard.”
Taylor watches the machine keeping track of my vitals begin beeping faster. She reaches down and brushes her thumb across my wrist. Not to say it’s okay, but that she understands.
“I am glad it worked out,” Taylor says.
“Agreed. So, I have been in contact with Hunter.”
The movement of her thumb across my skin ceases. “You have? Is she okay?”
“Yes, I believe she’s fine. Wolfshield expects you in four days. When you arrive, you will corroborate this information, then finalize Wolfshield’s surrender.”
“Surrender?” Taylor’s voice rises with every syllable. I put my hand over hers and watch her breathe out a long breath and release some of the tension building in her muscles. “What did she offer?”
“Along with the release of our soldier, she will publicly announce her allegiance to the Order. The resources in the region will be ours, effectively immediately.”
“And what are you giving her?” I ask.
“Her life,” Theia replies. “In addition, I am keeping her in place as the region leader, under my new government.”
“Whoa, for real?”
Theia chuckles. “Yes, ‘for real.’ Wolfshield has accepted these terms.”
“So, she keeps her region, her people, and a modicum of power. Not to mention her army and her technology.” I try to not let the jealousy seep into my voice. “She must’ve snatched an important person. Wish I’d thought of that.”
Taylor’s eyes widen, as if I’ve said something offensive. Whoever this person is, she’s clearly worth a lot more than me, and, well, I may be a little petty. Theia clears her throat on the other line. “Do you have an issue with my strategy, Miss Piccolo?”
“I don’t think it would matter very much if I did. I’m more thinking that if she wakes up one day and decides she doesn’t like your government, she has a big head start in taking it back.”
“If she appears even remotely aggressive, I turn the armies of four other regions against her and I will level her region to the ground,” Theia explains in a clipped tone.
“Patricia has many obnoxious, sanctimonious qualities and one of them is her precious code of honor. In any event, I do not expect a betrayal.”
“That’s exactly when you should expect one.”
“Ah, well the Piccolo heir would certainly know her way around a backstabbing.” Each syllable of her sentence is deliberate, quick, like nips of teeth on skin.
Taylor, correctly reading the room for once, interjects. Or she’s so in her head she has no idea what’s been said. Either are likely. “What if—what if she isn’t okay? Or what if Wolfshield refuses to release her?”
“I trust you will figure out a solution and I will support your decision.”
Wheels spin behind Taylor’s eyes as she contemplates the reckless ways she could save Hunter. “What is our transport?”
“Car. It is one full day’s drive. In light of Miss Piccolo’s injury, I’ve arranged for a driver to bring you directly to an Order compound about two-thirds of the way there. Eos, you will drive the second leg of the trip.”
“No element of surprise,” I say. “What an anticlimactic way to take the last region.”
“That is not the last region,” Taylor replies in a faraway voice.
“Correct.” Theia’s voice snaps Taylor’s attention back from wherever she’d gone. “Miss Piccolo, in regard to your father, I have made efforts to come to an accord with him.”
This time, I can’t deny the hopefulness in my tone. “You spoke to him?”
“Several times, via encrypted holo-calls. His Force and his Lightbringers continue to wreak havoc upon New York City, though most of the rest of the region is under our control.”
“Is he okay? Did he…look okay?”
“He seemed…tired,” she admits. “He asked about you, and I assured him you were well and in good hands. This was prior to your being shot, to be fair.”
“Probably best he doesn’t know. He’s not exactly a rational guy, especially where I’m concerned.”
“I agree. Our talks have stalled because he insists on seeing you in person, and, obviously, you are currently indisposed. Eos, I will be in contact with you again once you’ve reached Wolfshield safely. Godspeed on your convalescence, Miss Piccolo.”
“Good day, ma’am.” Taylor closes the face of her watch and gets up from the metal chair, releasing the elastic band in her hair to shake out her blond locks. Anxiously, she runs her fingers through her hair. “I am going to step outside for a bit.”
“Okay.”
But it’s not okay.
After a drawn-out discharge where I have to practically pry Georgina away from Taylor, we’re shoveled into a van with a few bags of supplies.
Our driver is an Order member named Ekaterina, a woman with whom Taylor is peripherally familiar.
They make small talk about the war and reconnaissance they did together last time Taylor was in the area.
I stare out the window and watch Montana disappear behind us.
No crashing through checkpoints this time.
All that’s left is smooth sailing into the wolf’s den.
Taylor suggests I sleep, but anxiety keeps me dreadfully awake.
The world moves around us, lights and noise shoot by like meteors.
Each mile, each marker, each changing picture outside my window brings us closer to the end of our journey together.
Clenching my jaw, I force myself to be present.
We are here and we are together. The woman who barely looked me in the eyes during a chilly helicopter ride currently slumbers on my shoulder.
Many hours of overthinking later, my companion shifts beside me and begrudgingly returns to consciousness. Anticipating coldness as she detaches herself from me, I’m surprised when she further buries her face into my shoulder with a sleepy whimper.
Jesus Christ. Just throw me in my casket.
“Hey,” I urge in a soft voice. “We’re almost at the drop-off.”
Taylor grumbles, licking her lips as she blinks herself awake.
Acutely aware of our proximity, I stay stone-still as she orients herself again.
Two big eyes focus on my face, then widen in silent alarm.
Everything is suddenly too much and desperately not enough.
Those stupidly beautiful eyes meet mine, and my brain turns beautifully stupid.
Not even a sentence could fit in the air between our lips.
Please, kiss me again and I could die right here.
Then the car abruptly stops.
And Taylor pops away from me, breathless.
And I’m pretty sure I could kill the driver with only my glare, but my bare hands would do. Taylor can’t escape me, pinned between our gear and myself, but she cannot look me in the eyes.
Ekaterina smiles at us in the rearview mirror. “Home sweet home,” she says with a cheeriness unbowed by my intense scowl. “For me, anyway.”
We’re near the border of Salt Lake City.
It’s a beautiful city, all purple mountains’ majesty and waves of grain, or however it went.
Ekaterina escorts us into a makeshift OrPro headquarters they jammed into the husk of a sports equipment store.
Zealous soldiers swarm Taylor as she tries to eat a sandwich, eager to bask in the glow of her proximity to power and volley questions about Theia and Detroit and Dunn.
Visibly uncomfortable but untouchable through the crowd of soldiers, she fields their inquiries with the kind of regal calm you’d expect from someone better bred.
It’s a combination of Theia’s guiding hand and a power that is her own, an imperious accessibility in which she comes off as ordinary despite being anything but.
Picking at my dinner ration, I keep my distance but also keep my attention on her. She peers over her shoulder at me, apologetic and flustered. My heart skips as I wave away her worry, smiling dopily at the adoration of her peers. It’s this casual interaction that hits me like a cold slap.
I am in love with her. And it is going to kill me. And I am going to let it.