Chapter 8
AN: Another Chapter! YAY! We draw closer to the truth about what is going on, IE the 'Biblical Bad' that Logan talked about, the truth about little dead Adam, and who this 'Rose Willard'. But not yet. Now comes the part that I like. Aftershock.
Adam was dead.
'D…E…A…D' thought Frankie, 'No matter how I look at it the letters still spell the same word. Dead. She's gone.'
"Luv," said Trigs, feeding her young infant from a bottle, "Frank what's bothering you."
"She's gone Trigs," said Frankie, "Adam is dead. I will never see her again, never hear her laugh, never smell that stuff she uses on her hair."
"It's the same shit we use."
"But on her it smells different," said Frankie, her eyes tearing up.
"Come on Frank," said Trigs, "She was a soldier. She was there saving Dragon. She could have left him behind and lived. That was her choice."
"Don't you even care?" said Frankie, standing up to look her lover in the face.
"Damn it Frank," said Trigs, "She was my sister too."
"You don't sound broken up."
"I understand things you don't."
"Like what?" asked Frankie, her eyes filling with rage.
"Nothing is permanent. You need to be prepared to up and move whenever it's needed. That means letting go of those you can't take with you. I like to think of Adam as one of those who was too slow to keep up."
"Too…SLOW?" shouted Frankie, "Fuck it Trigs, don't you have any emotions."
"You know I do," she answered calmly, "I just look at things in a logical way."
"How would you be if that were me?"
"A little more upset," she answered, "But I'm a soldier."
"Screw you," said Frankie, walking out the door and down the hall to one of the large open parking lots. She pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and lit up one, breathing in the smoke heavily. The smell of them invoked memories of the first time she smoked. She was a teenaged soldier out on a short mission with 584 and 453. 453 had pulled out a pack she snatched from some old guy. The three of them sat there and smoked all night as they watched and waited for one man to exit his hotel. 453 had shot him dead. His name was Sam. 453 liked the name Sam. Adam told her that her name was now Sam.
"Like she told me my name is Frankie," said Frankie grimly.
*+*+*
"Come on," said X5-439, "Come on 584."
"I…I can't," she answered, looking around at the dark forest. It was late, and 439 was getting a little nervous. 584 had fallen out of a tree and smacked her head into a root. Her blond hair had turned crimson with blood, and she was beginning to fade.
"Come on," 439 said, moving back and taking 584's hand. They weren't supposed to be heading back, but 439 was not about to let 584 bleed to death. 439 had made what she called an 'ecutive 'cision.' She was taking 584 back to the Colonel.
"I can't," she said, "I'm sorry. I'm weak."
"No you are not," said 439, "Frankly, you are strong. You're only as weak as you THINK you are."
"Let me stay here. I'll be okay."
"How much do you weigh?"
"45 pounds," she answered.
"Come here," said 439. 584 backed up, her blue eyes wide in fear.
"Why?"
"Come HERE!" said 439, marching forward and grabbing 584 by the arm. She pulled away, but 439 was faster. With one move, she lifted 584 up and onto her shoulders.
"What?"
"You can be carried like this or piggy-back," said 439, "But frankly, I am carrying you because you are injured."
"Piggy back," she said quietly. 439 put 584 down and then lifted her onto her back before starting out at a slow trudge.
"You okay?" she asked.
"I want Finn."
"Who?"
"802."
"You called him what?"
"Finn."
"He has a name."
"Only when he's with us," said 584, "I have a name too."
"Really?" said 439.
"It's Adam."
"Adam…" said 439, "It suits you. It has a ring of peace."
"Peace is bad," said Adam, "Peace is just a time where you are preparing for war instead of fighting it."
"Frankly I don't think so," said 439, "I think…"
"Frankie what?" asked Adam.
"Frankly."
"Frankie?"
"Frankie…"
"You're name should be Frankie."
"Frankie?"
"Yeah. Lots of us have names. You should too."
"How come no one told me?"
"Cause you sleep."
"And you don't."
"Not much."
"Ah."
"766's name is Dragon."
"Really?"
"Yeah. 344 is Cree."
"What about 631."
"She doesn't have a name yet."
"Why?"
"She scares me."
"Scares you?"
"Yeah. I wanna name her Trigs though."
"Why?"
"She looks like a trigs."
"She does?" said Frankie, "I think she looks like a Max."
"452 is gonna be Max."
"She's not Max now?"
"No. She'll become Max in a few weeks."
"How do you know."
"I just do."
"Sounds weird," said Frankie.
"Look," said Adam, "A light up ahead. It looks like someones been hurt."
"439!" shouted a voice. 631 was racing towards 439 at top speed as the other soldiers began to follow.
"439!" Bellowed Lydecker, "What is your status."
"Operational Sir," she said, "But 584 had an accident."
"What happened?" he asked.
"I was up in a tree sir," said Adam, "And I was startled by a large bird with yellow eyes. It landed next to me and screeched. I lost my footing and feel."
"Are you hurt?"
"She's bleeding sir," said Frankie, "She split the back of her head. She's bleeding bad sir."
"Medic!" called Lydecker, "Take 584 to the infirmary."
"Yes sir," said the Men.
"439," said Lydecker, "Why didn't you complete the mission. Why did you come back here with 584 instead of going on without her."
"She could've died sir," said Frankie, "And my unit would be without a soldier. We need all the soldiers to make up our unit. 584 has skills that no one else does. Without her we may have had a harder time in the future."
"Good girl," said Lydecker, patting 439 on the head as he walked off to check up on 584.
"Why?" asked 439.
"Nothing Trigs."
"Nothing what?"
"Trigs," said Frankie, "Trigs is what I'm gunna call you."
"Trigs?" said 631, wrinkling her nose, "I don't think I like that."
"Too bad," said Frankie, "Cause Adam makes up the best names."
"Adam?" said Trigs, trailing after Frankie as she walked towards the barracks.
*+*+*
All he wanted was to die as he stood there watching the hundred of people who would oblige.
His angel, the one thing that got him through 20 fucked up years at Manticore was gone.
Cree, dressed in all black, gazed out at the crowds that gathered daily outside Terminal city. He wondered how they did it, hating people they didn't understand. How they could be so stupid was beyond comprehension.
He rubbed his hands across his knuckles lightly. They hurt. They tended to do that after beind put through a brick wall.
Pain was the only emotion Cree had left. Pain made him feel alive, made him feel like maybe there was something to this world, a world without his Adam.
It had been three weeks. Three long agonizing weeks since his actions had stolen the life from his beloved girl. Twenty-one days since he lost his only reason left to live.
'A little more than 504 hours ago my darling was alive and breathing. She was running through the tunnels underneath this god-forsaken city, free from Manticore, free from the oppressive regime she lived under as a transhuman and free from the chains of death that bound her," thought Cree, 'And it's all my fault.'
Cree looked out again over the city. He saw the space needle. Max had told him it was her high place. He used to love going up high when he was with Manticore. The breeze running through his hair, the feeling of euphoria that he was higher that anyone else, and the smile on Adam's face as he laughed.
Adam never believed in the blue lady, or the high place, or anything like that. She played the part of the believer for Ben's sake. She knew something would shake his faith, and didn't want it to be her. That was before she realized that she could not change the future.
'I wish I could change the past,' thought Cree, 'I would be the one dead, not you.'
"If I could change the past, I would save the ones left behind," Adam had once said.
"But what about the one's who made it out and died," asked Frankie, the Frankie who once was a naïve little girl.
"I can't. It isn't possible. I won't be there when they died."
"Won't?" Cree had said.
Cree heard her voice over and over in his head. He heard her sweet giggle echoing in the recesses of his brain, heard the soft patter of her feet as she got out of her own cot and curl up with him, like she had done most nights after the escape. He could smell her perfume. She went out of her way when she was playing the part of an ordinary to wear the same perfume. It drove Cree crazy, and even got a response out of Finn, who hated women.
Cree pulled out his knife as he thought about Adam, flipping the blade out. It was a beautiful switchblade with an ebony handle. Adam had managed to convince some guy on the street that it was her knife he carried in his wallet. She had a gift for that.
It only took a second for the blade to enter his arm. It was a shallow cut, but enough to cause pain. The pain shot up his arm, registering in his brain an instant after the blood began to flow.
Pain…was all Cree could feel anymore.
*+*+*
"So Logan," said Max, "You got anymore on the conclave?"
"A little," he said, "I think I found out what the coming is."
"What?" said Max.
"You ever wonder why Progeria is so common among the X series?"
"Not really," said Max, "It killed the mini-me so I'm happy."
"Because that's what's coming."
"What?" said Max, "Progeria is a genetic disorder."
"And you think that in thousands of years someone couldn't figure out haw to change DNA with, say, a big plague."
"You're saying the world is going to get Progeria?"
"No. They'll get Progeria like symptoms and die quickly. It's a brilliant plan."
"Any way to stop it?"
"Yeah," said Finn, showing up out of nowhere like usual, "There is."
"Finn," said Logan.
"Logan," said Finn, "Max, can we talk please."
"I'm busy."
"NOW Max," he said, "Something's shown up."
"What?" said Max.
"Just….follow me….and get the ditch-diggin' thing…Lank, is that his name?"
"Luke?"
"YEAH!" said Finn, "Luke. Get him now. Something came and I need to see something."
"Why?"
"We have to dig up Adam."
*+*+*
Trigs had decided to take a walk after the little blow up with Frankie. She knew that Frankie was really close with Adam, but she never dreamed that the death of Adam would hit her so hard.
Not that is didn't hurt Trigs.
Trigs walked around the abandoned parking lot with the intent on brooding, but what she found was a very calm looking Dragon strumming on an old guitar, the chords reminiscent of ages gone by, ages when Trigs wasn't a harden soldier and she had actually given a damn about some people.
"Hey Drag," said Trigs, walking over and sitting down with her older brother.
"Innocent," said He said, strumming on the guitar.
"I didn't accuse you…"
"No," he said, "Song. Innocent."
"Oh…" said Trigs, "I know that song."
"Adam," he said.
"She sang it on that mission where we killed that guy who…"
"Say it."
"Who raped you."
"Yeah…" he said.
"I remember that night so clearly. I remember the fight with the guy, the way everyone's eyes looked so blank was he ripped that guy to shreds. I think that moment is the most vivid in my mind."
"No."
"No? Nothing in my life could compare to the feelings of helplessness when we fought him. It was as if I wasn't in control."
"Mika."
"Mika…That…I try not to think about that…She didn't have to die Dragon. She could've said something to us. We could've done something for her. She just…jumped."
"It's true."
"What's true."
"Adam was right."
"Adam was right about what?"
"Repression."
"Repression. What the hell Drag, I'm not repressed."
"Memories."
"About Mika? About her death?"
"You…You were there with me and Adam."
"No. You and Adam found her."
"You were there Trigs," said Dragon, using more words in a row that Trigs could remember, "You were there when Adam tried to talk her out of it. You were there."
"Was not."
"Think hard Trigsie."
"Don't call me that."
"Why?"
"Mika called me that. So did Adam, and Tinga, and Ben."
"Trigsie."
"Stop it."
"Trigs!" shouted a voice from the edge of the parking lot, "Dragon! TRIGS!"
"Frank," said Trigs, "What is so bloody…"
"Cree just stabbed Finn!"
"The fuck…" said Dragon dropping his guitar as he set off after Frankie.
"Shit," said Trigs, joining the two.
Dragon's guitar lay on it's front on the cold ground until a small figure with long blond hair came by and turned it over. Dragon had been playing her favourite song and she couldn't let him ruin his guitar.
*+*+*
"Let me at him," said Cree, who was handcuffed to a pole as a few of the medic's tended to Finn, who was bleeding profusely from a large whole in his lower abdomen.
"Finn!" shouted Dragon, running to the side of the man whom he loved.
"What the hell?" said Trigs, looking around at the carnage. There was blood everywhere. The graveyard had blood-spatter everywhere. Luke, the digger, was sitting with a cloth on his bruised and bloodied face. Max was seated next to Adam's grave stone where a sheet covered what looked to be a body.
"Holy shit," said Frankie.
"Cree," said Max, "Calm down."
"How DARE you," said Cree, "You bitch. Max, how could you. You left us behind and now you're desecrating the grave of our sister. Max, I thought you were the only one who could understand…"
"I do," said Max.
"You don't."
"I do," said Max, "This body, this empty shell, it's not Adam."
"Adam is dead," said Frankie.
"She may be," said Max, "But this body isn't hers. This isn't Adam. The true Barcode says 583, not 584, and she doesn't have the scar Adam had. When we were little Adam split open the back of her head on a mission."
"She did," said Frankie, "She fell out of a tree."
"Nor does she have the mark on her face!"
"It was a make-up job," said Luke.
"This body doesn't show those signs. This can't be Adam."
"It's…Not?" said Cree, "How?"
"Adam was here, this morning. Finn woke up and found a folder full of stuff on the conclave. Adam is in deep cover."
"And we think we know who she is."
"There's a girl it lists in here. Sarah Jensen. She looks like Adam. We think Adam could pull the switch."
"So Adam ain't dead," said Trigs.
"Damn-it…" said Cree, "FINN! FINN DON'T YOU DARE DIED! YOU NEED TO KICK MY ASS!"
"Wha?" said Finn, floating in and out of consciousness.
"FINN!" screamed Cree.
And with that the world before Finn's eyes faded to black.