Shadow and Shine (Book 2): Dark Divide Page 33

  “I won’t argue with who deserves what. That’s not my place to make those distinctions. Instead, I need your help. If you have the Pulse or not, you’re valuable. In experience or ability. You’re important.” President Watt ran his hands through his hair. He didn’t look the same as he did on the television. Mickey was amazed at how makeup could make someone look twenty years younger, but not fake. “It’s all falling apart. Everything we’ve worked for. The Shadows are spreading throughout the West Coast. There’s footage from LA, San Francisco, Seattle, Denver, and Phoenix. How long until they make their way east? America knows she’s falling. So do her enemies. The future is dark and cold. And no one can do anything about it.”

  The look on his face showed real sadness. Gone was the bland confusion during their voting debate, the idea of America being under attack by the Shadows genuinely effected him.

  Mickey knew this was true. He knew the world was changing. He didn’t need the President of the United States to tell him. It was no secret. Anyone who watched Salt Lake City, Mickey’s city, get torn apart knew that. It should’ve never happened, but it did. Mona promised to stop them, eventually. She was helping the others grow stronger by the day. The rest of the country was going to suffer because people got in their way. “We could have stopped it.”

  “I know. So stop it now. I know what you can do. I know the electricity that runs through your veins.”

  “Talk to the others, dude,” it dawned on Mickey, he just called the President dude. “Tink can make people on fire. Mona is… well, Mona. And Jenna is stronger than Marshall. But not me, I’m the weak link. I can’t even turn on a light bulb. I’m worthless to you.”

  Watt laughed under his breath. “Did you know, while Jordan was poking you with his needle, the west quadrant of the most sophisticated government facility in the world lost all electricity? From the other side of the building, you shorted out every breaker. Don’t sell yourself short.”

  Mickey wasn’t going to gloat, but that was pretty cool. His power was greater than he realized.

  “I’m sincerely sorry about your friends who were unceremoniously murdered by Marshall. You will only be dealing with myself and my most trusted advisor moving forward.”

  “Why not just you?”

  “Conrad Greene is a better man than I am. You should trust him more than you trust me.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t trust you.”

  Watt nodded. “I’m not asking you to pretend to be happy about how your people have been treated, I’m asking you to save the country. I need you, son.”

  The President didn’t wait for Mickey to answer, instead he nodded and walked out of the room. Mickey stood there, confused. The President made good points about everything. The country didn’t stand a chance against the Shadows. Mona said the western USA would be gone within a week, Mickey was pretty sure that was either today or tomorrow.

  Asher was dead.

  Shelly was dead.

  Harry was gone.

  The country’s only hope was for the survivors to work together and fight against these things while they searched for the hero.

  *******

  Conrad

  Early afternoon

  Union Matis, WV

  The lights turned out.

  Flashes followed.

  The fire alarm sounded.

  Someone was breaking out.

  No, that wasn’t it. Conrad knew the difference between the alarm of an escapee and the alarm of an infiltrator. There weren’t survivors escaping. Conrad turned back to the others and shouted, “Someone’s trying to break in!” Conrad pulled out his service pistol and looked out into the hallway. Soldiers were running to the south end of the building. Away from where the prisoner cells were and towards the front entrance.

  “What do we do?” Seth asked.

  Conrad was faced with a dilemma. His first concern was protecting Seth from whatever threat was knocking on Union Matis’s front door. If it were the Subas, then the soldiers were going to need all the firepower they could find.

  The risk of Subas was too great though. “Take Chapman back to the control room. It’s four hallways, take a right, and the room marked with a blue light,” Conrad said, and pitched his knife to Seth. It was the same knife Reyes used to kill Gathe. The one Greg was originally going to keep until he admitted himself into the most secure and dangerous prison in the US. “I’m going to help the soldiers.”

  Seth nodded and walked to the door. “Which way are the other survivors? If I get Chapman to safety, I want to make sure my friends are safe.”

  Conrad admired how Seth wanted to save the people who abandoned him. They supposedly possessed unique abilities, but none of them carried Seth’s bravery.

  Conrad explained the directions without hesitation.

  *******

  Jake

  Late morning

  Westbound - Eastern Nevada

  Jake turned up the volume to make up for the deafness of his right ear. The radio frequency was spotty, but Jake understood enough to know Utah was destroyed and the rest of America wasn’t too far behind. The President was dead, important people were missing, and the UN was allegedly behind it all. The bombing in Utah was barely discussed; instead most of the reports were all leading up to Secretary General Ugo Ban, the head honcho of the United Nations, releasing a public statement in the aftermath.

  It didn’t matter why he bombed Utah, Jake thought, because it was over and done with and nobody seemed to care. However, if he was the reason President Watt was killed, then maybe America would rally against him. Maybe the world would too. It sounded like all of those innocent lives were overlooked because of President Watt. Which, sure, it was sad to hear, but Jake couldn’t comprehend why one man’s death took precedence over an entire state being wiped off the map.

  How many people were in Utah? Two million? Three? Yet the reports said the catastrophic nature of the bombs meant there was almost no chance of survivors.

  Of course, they didn’t know about Jake.

  Finally, the leader of the UN’s voice came over the grainy radio, “Ladies and Gentleman, I stand before you… static… deeply saddened and… static... The United Nations had nothing to do with… static… death… it is truly unfortunate… however… at your own newly…static…leader for the truth behind… assassination… this does not change… static… original twenty…static… hour decree…static… as we… static… stated in regards… static… not only Utah… static… Vada, Califor… static… and Colorado… static… your time ends in… static… minutes. Thank you, and I’m sorry it’s come to this.”

  “Did he say California?” Jake asked himself, looking around. “What parts? Southern? Northern? Come on, give me something!”

  Instead, the radio cut out. Just dead. There were no follow up answers. Nothing to add or clarify. California, and other states, were about be attacked as well.

  Did the UN have enough bombs? There is no way President Watt would let them have so much firepower, was there? Of course, he was dead now.

  Did Ban say the Vice President might have ordered Watt’s assassination? What did he know?

  Those thoughts were absent compared to one realization; California was about to be bombed and Jake’s wife was there. He wasn’t minutes away, he was hours away. Now what?

  Jake slammed down the gas and drove on while trying not to think too much about it. The radio was dead, but he flipped a switch to make sure it didn’t turn back on either. He didn’t want to know when it happened, he just wanted to get there. He was driving through Nevada, another state that would be bombed, but was someone really going to attack northern Nevada? Really? There was nothing there, other than an imitation Las Vegas and desert towns. Would the UN really waste their time?

  It didn’t matter. Jake was too far away to get to San Francisco in time.

  His headlights flickered as he approached a bend along the freeway. “Think! Something’s got to gi—”

  Clug. Clug.
Chuck. Clug.

  Jake stepped on the gas, the pedal fell limp under his foot. The steering wheel was heavy. He strained right as the car approached a turn. It was too heavy, and too sharp of a turn.

  The brakes didn’t work.

  The car drove straight into a rocky hill.

  *******

  Harry

  Early afternoon

  Union Matis Field, WV

  Harry stared up at the sun and wondered how much longer before the dust made it this far east. Mona said the west would be gone by today, and all in due time, the east coast would become an ashy graveyard, too. The world was ending and Harry stood in the middle of the storm, smiling.

  Today was the best day of his life.

  He didn’t want to shortchange the regret he felt about Shelly, but he couldn’t hide his excitement of knowing he had a purpose. The old rotten mechanic was a fixer. He was going to save people’s lives, like he did for Asher, for the rest of his life. No more grouch, no more hate. Only opportunity to fix the broken.

  His eyes began to burn and tear as he finally looked away.

  And then he saw him, standing in front of the truck.

  His skin was charred black. His eyes were missing.

  Jordan stood in front of the truck, with his hands on the hood.

  Smiling.

  Harry leaned in and blinked his eyes rapidly. He hoped it was just a vision. Apparently these things were happening more often nowadays. Maybe it was from staring at the sun, or a byproduct of the Pulse.

  “Come out here,” Jordan whispered. It was such a faint sound, Harry couldn’t tell if it were actually from him, or if the voice was in his head. Either way, he didn’t walk out. Instead, he locked the doors and rolled up the windows, shaking his head at Jordan.

  “Not a chance. You’re not real.”

  “If I’m not real, then why be afraid?” It sounded like he was sitting beside him in the truck.

  It was a good question. Harry didn’t think he was afraid, but more just trying to be careful. “I don’t know you,” he answered, unsure of what he was trying to say.

  Harry looked passed Jordan and towards the building. From this far away, it was nothing more than a white blotch in the middle of a forest. He wished Asher would come back. Either to protect him, or prove this was only a vision.

  “You need to get out,” Jordan said, appearing in the driver’s seat.

  “Bah!” Harry shouted, nearly jumping out of his skin. “How did you? What the? How?”

  “Mona needs you, Harry. Get out,” his voice still sounded like it was inside Harry’s brain.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Mona is going to die, unless you get in there and save her. Nino has the gasoline, and next, he brings the matches.”

  “You’re a vision?”

  “Sure.”

  “How do you know this stuff? You’re just in my head.”

  “Not just your head. I’m in hers, too.”

  “Mona’s?”

  “Nope. It’s not all about her, you know. There are other people who are important, too.”

  “Jenna?”

  “Since the beginning, yup. When Ben took your leg, she helped you see the hero and find redemption. When you were lost, she told you where to find her. And now, she’s telling you to save Mona.” Jordan smiled, flashing broken black teeth. “Poor girl doesn’t even know what’s living inside of her. But you do, so you need to go.”

  He had so many questions. None of this made any sense, but he didn’t waste any more time. If he was being told to save Mona, then that’s exactly what he was going to do. Harry jumped out of the car and hopped to the nearest tree. It was going to take him a long time to get there, but he was going to make it. He had to.

  *******

  Conrad

  Early afternoon

  Union Matis, WV

  It was the same beat to the same drum every time: scattered gunshots followed by the grunts of battle, and ending with their cries echoed through the halls. Conrad held his pistol in front of his face, scanning around every corner. He wasted no time wondering how someone could break in, he was far too busy wondering who it could actually be. He feared it was the Subas. What else could be plowing through elite soldiers in closed quarters?

  Conrad turned another corner into a hallway nearly fifty yards long. Hog-tied soldiers filled the hallway. Most were unconscious, while the others were quietly crying through their wounds. Conrad leaned down to the closest soldier, carefully looking ahead while checking his pulse.

  The soldier pulled back at his touch as Conrad frightened him. “Please don’t!” he shouted, his voice echoing down the hall.

  “Shh!” Conrad put his hand over his mouth. “What happened here?”

  His eyes were glossy, confused. He didn’t understand Conrad’s question, or maybe he didn’t believe Conrad was standing in front of him.“General Greene?”

  Another gunshot broke the men’s attention. More grunts and cries followed.

  The soldier looked back to Conrad and sighed. The confusion was replaced by concern. “He’s too fast, sir.” Conrad reached down and tried to untie his straps. They were twisted and tightened, he would have to cut through them. “Don’t bother, sir. I don’t want out of these until he’s gone. He’s not here to kill me. He just wants his friends.”

  “He? One man did this?”

  More gunshots.

  Two soldiers turned a corner on the opposite end of the hallway, sprinting towards Conrad. The look of fear in their eyes didn’t belong on soldiers with the rank to merit being assigned to Union Matis. They were supposed to be the best of the best, yet they ran away like school girls.

  “Run!” one shouted.

  “Go!” said the other.

  Conrad stood and pointed his gun down the hall. Whoever was coming, would come into view soon. It would take one shot, if it really were one man, and the battle would be over.

  Each soldier was unaffected by Conrad’s pointing gun as they sprinted passed him. Cowards. Their noses were bloodied and they were weaponless. Even their service knives were missing.

  A shadow moved at the end of the hallway. Someone was waiting around the corner. His enemy, the man, or men, who dismantled the soldiers knew Conrad was there. It didn’t make sense, but it’s a feeling he’s felt many times before; the most difficult prey is the one who knows it’s hunted. Usually, it was the most dangerous as well. He could shoot through the corner of the wall, the plaster on these walls couldn’t stop the bullet, but he chose to wait. He wanted to see his enemy.

  “You there, show yourself.”

  “Not yet,” his voice echoed back to Conrad.

  “What do you want?”

  “Are you in charge?”

  “My name is Conrad Greene, I’m the Constitutional General of the United Sta—”

  “I don’t care. I’m here for my friends. And I’m here for Marshall. If you’re in charge, then give them to me and I won’t hurt you.”

  “Why do you want Marshall?”

  “Because I’m going to kill him. And his pets, Nino and Jordan.”

  “No deal. Sorry. But I’m going to set my gun down. We need to talk about this.”

  “Not until they’re dead and my friends are safe. If you were in charge, you’re not anymore. This is my show, and I’ll make the decisions. You can either deal with it standing, or tied up like the rest of them.”

  Pop pop pop.

  Three shots. Conrad squinted, hoping none of them landed. They weren’t his shots. A different soldier was shooting from the other end of the hall. “Hold your fire!” He rushed down the hall, pointing towards the corner. If the man jumped out, he would shoot him. Not because he disagreed with his intentions, but for protection.

  Pieces of white plaster filled the air.

  Pop.

  Another shot, this time Conrad felt the bullet zoom passed his face and into the wall beside him.

  “Hold your fire!” he yelled again
.

  A soldier raised his rifle at Conrad as he came into view. Conrad loosened his grip on his pistol and showed his hands. “Friendly!”

  “Look out!” the soldier yelled.

  Conrad turned around, back towards where the man was talking, and saw the man rushing beside him. In a moment, his pistol became lighter and his knife pulled out from his belt. He saw the blonde haired male kick the side of the soldier’s leg, strip him of his weapons, and unload his rifle in what felt like a blink of an eye.

  The soldier was tied up before Conrad opened his eyes.

  His gun was light, but not completely useless.

  The man turned towards him and nodded. “I left you one in the chamber. This is where you make your choice. Pull the trigger, and you die. Otherwise, set the gun down and stay out of my way.” His eyes didn’t match; one was bright blue while the other was completely black. Along his neck and up the left side of his cheek were thin black lines. It looked like the effects of what happens when Marshall gets his knife into someone. Except, this man was alive, and no one survived Marshall’s knife.

  “I’m not here for a fight.” Conrad set the gun carefully on the ground.

  “I am.”

  He walked passed Conrad and headed down the filled hallway. Conrad watched him, amazed.

  Now wasn’t the time to get in the way. He wasn’t going to make progress by asking questions or offering to help. This man was on a mission. The last thing a good soldier wanted, when he was dialed into battle, was an amateur offering to help.

  Compared to him, Conrad was an amateur.

  Instead, Conrad picked up his pistol and walked towards the opposite end of Union Matis. The man was headed away from the survivors and towards Marshall’s quarters. Conrad would find his friends and have them ready. This was the best chance to build a loyalty between them.

  A man with this kind of ability would change the world. He didn’t know much about the Subas, but they didn’t move like that. Even they wouldn’t stand a chance.

  *******

  Greg/Seth

  Afternoon

  Union Matis, WV