Flawed (7 page)

“Shut up,” Rein said, looking away. “Just shut up.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Slamming his fists on the table, Rein popped out of the chair. “Sorry!” he yelled, his body rigid, like he was ready to climb over the table to finish what he had started.

As soon as Rein jumped out of his seat, Dyllon’s thought process jammed, and images looped around—back at the cave, the murderous scene, Trista—making it hard to get a read on him.

Trista brushed by Woody, pushing him out of the way. “Stop it,” she said between clenched teeth. “I want you to stop it, right now.” She jabbed her finger in the air at Rein. “That’s enough.”

Ellyssa grabbed Rein’s hand. The gesture seemed to calm him a little. He fell back into his chair and covered his face.

“We have always accepted people. Always. Including her,” Trista said, nodding toward Ellyssa. “No offense.”

Ellyssa waved her off in understanding.

“Did you think for a moment, that everyone we ever accepted was innocent? I’m sure plenty of them had marks against them before they had enough…saw the light…Whatever, and defected from society.”

“Maybe not,” Rein said, lip quivering, “but that was our family.”

“Don’t you think I know that? I was there.” Her voice broke, tears forming in her eyes. “Dyllon might not have been able to save everyone, but he saved me.” She swallowed. “
Me
.”

Rein glanced around the room. Besides Woody, who looked at the back door, everyone else warily stared at him. Exhaling, his body deflated as the anger left. He slumped forward. “Thank you,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Don’t thank me,” Dyllon said. “It was terrible, and I’m sorry I…” He stopped. Trista held out her hand, and he wrapped his fingers around hers, pulling strength from her. “It was a madhouse. An utter madhouse. Gunfire ricocheted. The screaming. The cries for help.”

“That’s enough,” Woody said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We saw what you left behind.”

“There was nothing I could do. Nothing.” His voice was desperate, as if needing them to understand and forgive. “What could I do?”

What seemed like an eon ago, Ellyssa had said the same exact thing to Rein back in the cavern. She felt his eyes on her, and turned to look. Remembrance of that time reflected within his green eyes as well.

Putting her hands on Dyllon’s shoulders, Trista said, “You didn’t see it…didn’t hear it. There was nothing anyone could do. Don’t you think I would have? I was armed, too, and just as helpless. If either one of us tried, we would have just been added to the body count.”

Woody cringed at Trista’s words.

“Any courage I had died the moment gunfire flashed from the barrels,” Dyllon started, his head lowered. Shame accompanied the memory Ellyssa had witnessed. “Like a coward, I backed out of the cavern and ran. The barrage and screams chased me down the passageways. In my confusion, I went right past the opening to the upper level.”

“It was lucky for me he did,” Trista continued, her blue eyes swimming in grief and unshed tears. “He ducked behind the rock formation I had been hiding behind.”

“The coward I am,” he mumbled.

Trista lowered her head to his ear. “If not for you, I’d be dead,” she whispered before straightening back up. “I dropped my gun in surprise, and I thought that was going to be it. I closed my eyes, waiting for the sound of gunfire, waiting to feel the impact of a bullet. Instead, I felt his hand over my mouth as he slipped in behind me, pulling me back further into the darkness.
Shh
, he whispered to me,
I’m not going to hurt you
. And I believed him. For some reason, I believed him.

“We stayed hidden, listening to the sound of footsteps of the police patrolling the areas. I remember being shocked that I could hear them at all with my heart pounding in my ears.” She paused for a moment. “It’s funny where your mind travels under times of stress.

“As time passed, the frequency of the patrols lessened. Dyllon picked up a rock. I crazily thought he was going to do me in with it.” She laughed a little, a sad, sad laugh, and shook her head. “Absurd.”

“I didn’t want to chance the gun,” Dyllon threw in, absently. He still sat with his head hanging.

“He edged back to the formation, and the next patrol that had happened by, he smacked him on the side of the jaw. The guy went down with a
thump
that seemed to echo louder than the gunfire.”

Trista stepped away from Dyllon and waved her hand down the side of her body. “My uniform. As I said, there was no time to pick and choose.”

Ripples of silence washed away the last of Trista’s words while everyone stilled, contemplating what she’d just told them. Ellyssa watched the captain, who seemed content to stare at his twisting hands.

During Trista’s recounting of events, not once had Dyllon feel regret for his new choices, or anything that felt like he betrayed his society or planned to betray the resistance. All he felt were utter guilt, sorrow, and shame. A saturation, really. In that instant, at the site of the massacre of her family, everything he had once believed in had bled out onto the stony ground with the blood of the Renegades.

Ellyssa prodded deeper, sinking tentacles into hidden crevices and caches of his mind. Nothing sinister to alert her. Gating off the stream of thoughts, she pulled her eyes from Dyllon and met the expectant eyes of Woody and Rein. She nodded once, indicating he was telling the truth.

Like a light breeze had blown in, the intense storm cloud lifted a little as muscles relaxed and jaws unclenched. Peeking through, the sunshiny feel of the kitchen tried to reclaim its territory.

“What does that mean?” asked Trista, breaking the silence. She watched Ellyssa through narrowed lids, light eyelashes brushing her cheeks.

“It means,” answered Woody, “we believe his story.”

Trista’s head snapped toward him. “So, what, does that mean I’m in the clear, too? And how would you know?” she said, facing Ellyssa. “What’s with the freaky episode?”

Unbelievably, Rein chuckled, a sound that wasn’t filled with happiness, as if he had just remembered everyone, besides he and Woody, was in the dark about her ability. “That’s a long story, too.”

Trista didn’t try to pry any other information from them. She stared at them for a long time until she finally broke the silence. “Well, to continue, what is good about Dyllon’s involvement with us is that they don’t suspect him as of yet.” She lifted her chin in pride. “His knowledge of the patrols is why
I
was able to check the cavern one more time for you before leaving.”

“And where would you go?” Rein asked.

“It’s too dangerous to stay here,” Dyllon answered.

“They were going to hide south of here,” Tim broke in. “I didn’t know what else to do. Communicating with any others has almost been impossible. And I have Sarah to protect.” He glanced at his wife lovingly. The older woman smiled.

“Which reminds me,” Dyllon said, as he stood. “I have to get back.” He tried to straighten the creases Rein’s hands had left in his uniform, then gave up, shifting his attention to the armband. It fell loose again and dangled from a seam.

Leveling his eyes on Dyllon, Rein stood, while at the same time Woody placed his hand on the captain’s shoulders as if he were about to shove him back into the chair. “And what about the others?” Rein asked. “Not everyone was…” he closed his eyes.

Dyllon’s shoulders tensed, and he clearly looked uncomfortable, as if he couldn’t wait to escape outside. “I don’t know yet. I think they’ve been taken to a camp. I’ve been trying to find out, but I don’t have the security clearance.” He cocked his head. “I’m trying.”

For the first time since Rein had grabbed him, Ellyssa saw sympathy in Dyllon’s eyes, instead of confusion or pain. She touched his mind and saw the attempts he’d made trying to locate the missing people.

“It is okay, Rein, Woody. Let him go. If we keep him, they will send someone looking.”

Woody’s hand slipped off his shoulder, while Rein sighed.

Ellyssa stood and leaned into Rein. “Trust,” she whispered in his ear.

She could feel his warmth, and an underlying odor of fear mixed with his scent. He nodded.

She turned back to Dyllon. “Do something about the marks on your neck.”

Dyllon reached up and touched his neck. His eyes flinched at the contact. Looking at Ellyssa in a weird way, he said, “Yeah.” He pulled his collar up and faced Trista. “I will see you tomorrow.” He leaned over and quickly pecked her on the cheek.

Rein and Woody noticeably bristled but remained silent at the show of affection. Reaching over, Ellyssa laid her hand on top of Rein’s. He interlocked their fingers.

Trista touched the spot where Dyllon had kissed her as she watched him slip out the back door. Crossing her arms, she turned back toward the table. “The way you treated him was deplorable.”

“You don’t understand,” Rein retorted.

Trista’s eyes raked across Rein, before she exhaled and released her arms from their defensive position. “You’re right, I don’t. I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through, Rein. For everything you all have been through. But you can’t imagine what I’ve been through, either.”

“You’re right,” Rein said, his voice drawn and tired. He plopped back down in the chair.

Looking at Rein and Ellyssa, Trista grabbed Woody’s hand and held it to her chest. “You have to understand; he saved me. He helped me get to you. For that, regardless of his past transgressions, we owe him a chance. Please.”

Rein lowered his face into his hands. It was a long while before he spoke. Finally, he said, “Whatever.”

“I think we should get something to eat and talk about something else for a while,” Sarah said, removing the coat she still wore.

Ellyssa glanced at Tim, who sat silently in his chair, thoughtful. She wondered what he was thinking about, how all this affected him and his wife. Tim had mentioned how they needed to protect themselves, too. She entertained the thought of looking into his mind, then disregarded the notion. The invasion of privacy seemed wrong. If he wanted to share his thoughts, it should be by his choice, not by her curiosity.

The older woman went to the refrigerator and started to pull out packages of meat and cheese, while Trista, apparently already at home in the quaint house, went over to the cupboard and grabbed bread and mustard.

Ellyssa’s stomach rumbled loudly.

The one Rein had called out to during his torture, Doc, lay curled in the corner of the low-lit storage room. Red welts marked his back, chest and face, and beads of blood formed along the angry ridges. Regardless of the punishment, the prisoner’s lips remained pressed together in a tight line. Head hanging low, he looked between strands of his greying hair, hatred burning bright in his light-brown eyes.

Even with death threatening, the prisoner had remained loyal to the Resistance. The wounds Commandant Baer had inflicted should have at least elicited a scream, a pathetic mew, but the male hadn’t uttered a sound. Of course, the prisoner hadn’t even begun to feel pain yet. Soon he’d be given the opportunity.

As much as Aalexis hated to admit it, the stubbornness of the Renegades was a strong point of theirs. So were their devotion and loyalty to each other.

It would also be their demise. Ellyssa had already proven that when she’d risked her own life to save Rein’s.

Aalexis had hoped the prisoner would succumb to the comparatively mild torture of the Commandant, but she knew such would not be the case. Doc had other welts in different stages of healing.

As much as Aalexis didn’t want the Commandant to witness her ability—the greed for power the subhumans couldn’t understand—it seemed there was going to be little choice. The thought angered her and, surprisingly, excited her at the same time. Aalexis was unsure if the excitement stemmed from the thought of hurting Doc or from the power surge from her ability.

Much had changed since Ellyssa had destroyed The Center.

Aalexis stepped up next to the Commandant. “Let me try.”

Hans looked down at her, his eyes wide with surprise. She knew it was because such a request from a teen female was unheard of. His lips set firmly together as if he was thinking about denying her, but then he stepped back; the crop extended from his left hand.

Eyeing the primitive weapon, Aalexis said, “I have no need for that.”

“Oh,” the Commandant said, looking rather silly. He tucked the crop back under his arm.

Aalexis pointed to a corner of the room. “Stand over there,” she ordered.

Once again, Hans’ lips pursed into a tight line and his posture went rigid, but he still didn’t say anything. He walked over to the corner, his leather boots smacking against the linoleum.

Aalexis returned her attention to the pitiful creature, who eyed her with trepidation, as if he knew something terrible was about to happen. If Ellyssa had shared the secrets of The Center, most likely he had an inkling.

She settled onto her haunches, at eye level with the prisoner. “I will ask you only once,” she stated. “What news do you have of Ellyssa? Where has she gone?”

Doc’s pleading gaze swept from her to her brother, then to the Commandant, who stood obediently where Aalexis had sent him.

Finally, Doc looked back at her. “I don’t have anything to tell you,” he mumbled, his voice firm. Defiantly, he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“That is an unfortunate answer for
you
,” she emphasized, standing. “Xaver.”

She felt the air disturbance as her brother reinforced the energy bubble that cocooned them from outside forces, then created a small hole for Aalexis to focus her energy through. She squared her shoulders and stared deep into the betrayer’s eyes, locking him within her gaze.

Powerful tingles coursed through Aalexis and tickled her skin as her sight blurred and the room transformed. Everything shifted into simplicity as she zeroed in on the subatomic particles. She couldn’t actually see them, per se, for even
her
eyesight was too weak, but within her mind, they formed and, with the formation came understanding of their inner workings, their vibrations. Billions upon billions, the air hummed with the particles.