Broken & Beautiful

By: IsisIzabel

IV

-Jericho, Kansas-

Present Day

"Constantino actually said he wanted as little casualties as possible?" Jake asked scathingly, his hatred for the man radiating off him in waves.

Heather touched his shoulder. "I think it was just to save face in front of some of the men who weren't as convinced bombing Jericho was a good idea. Not everyone in New Bern supported attacking Jericho, but no one had the courage to go against Constantino. By saying he didn't want to kill anyone, he showed a humanistic side to himself that helped keep everyone in line."

Jake snorted. "Constantino is anything but humanistic."

She nodded, ducking her head. "I know, Jake."

He took several deep breaths, trying to control his rage. It took a few minutes, but he calmed down enough to prompt her into continuing her story.

"I talked to Stanley when he came back with the others," Jake said slowly, his brow furrowed. "He mentioned Eric said he was staying behind because he was having a hard time dealing with April's death."

Heather tucked her legs up on the bench with her, sitting Indian-style beside Jake. Her knee bumped his gently. "We were worried if the others—especially Stanley—found out what we were doing, that they'd want to stay with us." She shook her head slightly, a curtain of brunette hair falling in her eyes. "We couldn't risk their lives, too."

Jake hesitantly settled a hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her through the thin material of her cargo pants. Heather turned her head and looked at him, a grimace on her delicate features.

"When Eric met me at the cabin the next morning after he talked to Stanley, we made a plan. We decided to go back to the factory that night and destroy the machine."

"What went wrong?"

Her lips quirked into an adorable smile. "What makes you think something went wrong?" Her tone was light and teasing.

"The fact that I found my brother in jail, everyone assumed you were dead, and Jericho got hit by several mortars," he replied seriously.

The smile melted. "Oh, yeah. That." She sighed and brushed her hair away from her eyes. "That wasn't part of the plan. That was bad timing and bad luck."

***

-New Bern, Kansas-

Five Weeks Earlier

Heather slowly circled the back end of the machine. She'd already removed several pistons and bolts that she was sure would grind the machine to a halt when it was started up the next morning, but she needed to jam the engine just to be sure. It would take them days—maybe weeks—to replace the missing pistons and bolts, but if she could break the interior of the engine, they'd never be able to finish the mortars.

"Almost done?" Eric whispered from his position by the door. He looked back at her nervously.

"Couple more minutes," she called back softly. She bent at the knee and looked at the interior of the engine. Her hand was just reaching out for a coil when the room was suddenly flooded with light.

She instinctively dropped to the ground. She saw Eric had done the same thing, but he'd found a desk to crouch under. She met his eyes and he motioned furiously for her to crawl to him as the door beside him opened. His hand motions stilled and then slowly instructed her to stay put. She met his eyes and nodded.

"Constantino needs those reports," a clipped voice snapped from the doorway as another pair of booted feet moved across the floor.

Heather realized, too late, that the feet were moving towards her. She was just backing up when a boy—no older than sixteen—rounded the machine and saw her on the floor. His jaw dropped open, and they both froze.

"What is it, Kevin?" the man came further into the room.

Kevin was still staring at Heather, who was slowly getting to her feet, when they heard a grunt and a thud behind them. Heather straightened to her full height and saw Eric had knocked down the other man.

He looked at her, his eyes wide. "Heather, run!"

Adrenaline surged through her body and she started for the exit, but Kevin's hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her back. She heard Eric cry out and saw the other man had landed a punch that left him doubled over.

"Eric!"

She struggled against Kevin's hold, and managed to break free. But her balance was off from the struggle, and she found herself falling. The last thing she saw was the corner of the machine's framework rushing up to meet her. Pain exploded behind her eyes, and then everything was plunged into darkness.

***

Her head was pounding, and she wondered briefly how much tequila she'd been drinking before she'd passed out. Opening her eyes slowly, Heather realized she wasn't home in bed, nursing a hangover, but in a cold jail cell.

She coughed, trying to clear the dust from her throat. The action made her skull feel like it would shatter. She raised a shaking hand to her forehead. It came away sticky from the drying blood.

"Heather?"

She shifted from her position on the floor and saw Eric in the cell across the way. "Eric?" She narrowed her eyes, trying to focus.

"Hey," he called softly across the way. "You OK?"

"My head hurts," she mumbled, forcing herself into a sitting position even as her body screamed in protest.

"You hit it pretty hard," he agreed gently. "Is your vision blurry?"

"A little." She leaned her head back against the cinderblock wall and attempted to shut her eyes.

"Hey, hey. I need you to stay awake," Eric said urgently. "Stay with me, OK?"

"I'm sleepy," she admitted, slightly annoying that he was trying to keep her up. The pounding lessened when she closed her eyes.

"I know, but you may have a concussion. You need to stay awake, OK?"

Pause.

"Heather!" His loud voice boomed across the room.

She opened her eyes, trying to comprehend what he was saying. "OK," she muttered. "Geez, you can tell you were married to a doctor."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. He took it as a good sign she was arguing with him.

Heather blinked several times and looked around. "What time is it?"

"Afternoon, I think."

"Have I been asleep the whole time?"

Eric nodded. "They brought us in here after they found us in the factory."

Her eyes widened. "The big guy. He hit you. Are you OK?"

He almost smiled. Here she was, fighting a concussion and worried about the right-hook he'd caught earlier. "I'm fine," he assured her.

"Are you sure? It looked like he hit you pretty hard and—"

Eric held up a hand. "I may not be Jake, but I can take a punch. I'm fine. Really."

She pursed her lips and looked around again. "Has anyone come in?" She licked her lips, trying to ignore how thirsty she was.

"No. They threw me in here, you in there, and left. I thought I heard someone say something about Constantino, but I can't be too sure."

She was quiet for a long pause. "This is bad, isn't it?" She didn't bother hiding the tremble of fear in her voice.

"Yeah, it is." Eric sounded more resigned than scared.

"I wonder what will happen to the others," she mused aloud.

"I don't know," he answered her honestly. "Heather, listen."

He waited until he was certain he had her full attention before continuing. "I don't know what's going to happen next. But we can't tell them anything, got it?"

Her eyes rounded, her face paling considerably. "Yeah. I got it."

"Also, if you get a chance, you run, OK? Don't wait for me, don't try to help me—you run like hell and don't look back."

Heather's jaw dropped. "Eric, I'm not leaving you. We're in this together, remember? Partners?"

Eric smiled sadly at her. "I know. But we can't be sure Constantino doesn't have Stanley and the others, or if they know what's going on with us. Someone needs to warn Jericho about what's coming."

Something in her stomach twisted, and she was sure she was going to be sick.

"Eric—"

He leaned forward, wrapping his long fingers around the metal bars. He stared intently at her, never breaking eye contact. "Promise me, Heather."

Her eyes filled with tears and she nodded slowly. "I promise."