Wow, thank you all so much for all the reviews last chapter 3 I always love knowing people enjoy my writing!
I won't make this too long, because based on the reaction to last chapter's end, you guys all want to know what happens to poor Amy and Chaz. So without further adieu...
CHAPTER 20: WE'LL BE HALFWAY TO ANYWHERE
October 13, 2013
New World Plaza, Battery City, California
4:32 PM
Chester gawked at his friend, sure he had misheard Mark. "What—what do you mean?" he gasped.
"It's a long story," the older man sighed. "But I'll try to explain all of it…
"Travis, Tom and I just moved into our new apartment, the building we just finished with last week, remember? Well, it turns out the other apartment on our floor belongs to one of those creepy white-suit policemen Better Living employs. Poor guy's a total scatterbrain—drops things left and right. Well, this morning as I was leaving, I noticed this in front of his front door." Mark reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a crumpled, folded piece of paper. "I thought it was just another one of his mission print-outs—he drops a lot of those—and it was, but…" he gulped. "Just read it, Chaz."
Chester reached for the small square and unfolded it. The page was filled with small black text. At the top of the page was the heading To: Draculoid #163, From: Exterminator Korse.
"Exterminator Korse?" Chester mumbled, looking up at Mark. "Who's that?"
"It doesn't matter. Keep reading," his friend urged him.
The body of the message started: Draculoid Unit #16A is to be deployed to Hawthorne Towers, Building 3 Apartment 10B on October 13, 2013 at 1700 hours. Residents Chester Charles Bennington and Amy Lynn Lee are in possible violation of Section 5, Paragraph 2 Part D of Better Living Industries law.
"No," Chester gasped, nearly dropping the paper. There was still more text underneath the paragraph to read, but suddenly, he didn't want to know what the rest said.
But a morbid curiosity overtook him, and he continued.
License to arrest Bennington (male, age 18, Caucasian, stature 5' 10", attached image A.) Violation may carry a sentence of up to 30 years in reformation facility. If found to be in violation of above section, license to exterminate Lee (female, age 17, Caucasian, stature 5' 3.5", attached image B.)
License to exterminate Lee.
Chester's throat seized up, and suddenly he couldn't breathe, much less speak. Those four words rolled around in his mind, violent, terrifying. License to exterminate Lee. They had a legal license to kill Amy, and with her, their unborn child.
He tried to block the images, but they pushed past his mental barriers, bright, vivid, almost real. Himself, restrained by Draculoids holding onto his arms, helpless in their strong grip. Completely unable to help as they pushed a sobbing Amy to her knees, as they wrenched her arms behind her back, as they trained one of the cold, white guns on his fiancée's temple. As her ice-blue eyes met his one last time. As she mouthed 'I love you.'
As the Draculoid pulled the trigger.
The Amy in Chester's mind slumped over, warm, red blood spilling from the round hole in her forehead, her life spilling onto the floor of their apartment. Her beautiful face was soaked with red liquid, seeping into her hair, her clothes, staining her stomach.
His girlfriend, dead. His baby, dead. His life gone.
A strangled, inhuman roar tore itself from Chester's throat. He threw the paper to the ground and brought his work boot down on it heavily.
"No! It won't happen! I won't let it!" he exclaimed.
"They're coming tonight, Chester," Mark said grimly.
"Then I'll hide them," Chester growled. "I'll save them. I will save them."
Mark watched the younger man for a minute, and then murmured "Good luck. Be careful."
"And you," Chester whispered. "Say goodbye to Tom and Travis for me."
With that, the brunette boy turned around and ran, sprinting down the crowded sidewalk and wending his way between bodies as he ran. 1700 hours…that was five o'clock. It was nearly five now. They had fifteen minutes—if that.
Amy looked up from the couch, confused, as Chester burst through the door frantically. "Get up," he gasped, running for their bedroom. The sounds of banging drawers ensued.
"What? Chaz, what's going on?" Amy questioned. She slowly rose from the couch, groaning as her back stretched.
"No time." A black backpack flew out of the room and landed at her feet. "Pack as much as you can in that bag. Strictly the essentials. That's the only thing you can carry."
"But…"
"Amy, please!" Chester poked his head out of the doorway and caught her eye. Written plainly across his face was an expression she hadn't expected to see there: fear. His entire face was a mask of fear.
"Please, love," he begged, his voice strained. "I promise I'll explain. But you have to trust me, Amy."
The young girl gulped and steeled her nerve. She bent down and picked up the backpack.
Chester relaxed. "Thank you."
The pair worked in silence for nearly ten minutes, Chester dashing and Amy waddling around the apartment to grab anything they thought they needed. Amy reentered the bedroom after emptying their kitchen cabinet to find Chester raiding the closet, pulling on as many pairs of jeans as he could fit over each other.
"No room in the bag," he panted in response to her querying look.
"But we've got suitcases!" she exclaimed.
"We have to blend in on the street," he responded. He lifted a hooded sweatshirt from the rack and threw it at Amy. "We can't look like we're running away! Plus, we have to cover that." He gestured to her swollen stomach.
What the fuck was going on? Amy began to tug sweatshirt after sweatshirt over her head, bulking up the rest of her body so it hid her pregnant belly. "Chester, what happened at work?" she gasped out as she yanked the last one over her head.
Her fiancé stepped out of the closet, lugging a massive backpack and his guitar case behind him. He dropped them on the floor and stepped towards Amy, wrapping his favorite red checkered shirt around her shoulders. She looked up at him curiously as she slid her arms into the sleeves.
"Better Living found out," Chester murmured, pulling her shirt tight around her. He smoothed down her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then pulled away, handing her the backpack. "They're coming. We have to get out now, and probably never come back."
He waited for the inevitable breakdown, the freak-out, the terrified screams, but Amy simply blinked twice and pulled the backpack onto her shoulders. "When are they coming?" she asked quietly, already swiftly moving towards the door.
"Five o'clock," he murmured.
"You better explain everything when we get out," Amy said.
Chester threw open the door, nearly running to the elevator and hammering the down button. "Shit, c'mon!" he muttered as the small round button didn't light up. "Please wait," a voice chimed.
"They're probably in there, Chaz! We have to take the stairs!" Amy yelled.
"The stairs will take twice as long!" he protested desperately.
"It's either that or wait for them to catch us here! We'll have to risk it!"
She was right, of course—Chester's mind was clouded by a haze of fear and uncertainty. He threw open the door to the emergency exit and ushered Amy into the stairwell, slamming it closed behind the pair with a bang.
"Where are we going?" Amy asked, frantic as they rushed down the stairs.
"We'll figure that out later," Chester said grimly. "Just go!"
In the lobby, Draculoid #163 stood with the other four policemen in Unit #16A as the elevator slid open in front of them. He waved a pleasant goodbye to the cowering receptionist who sat, shaking, behind the counter. The mission they were performing that night was slightly out of the ordinary—usually they detained citizens with only orders to arrest or occasionally destroy possessions. This, though, was a serious infraction of Better Living Law. His unit had been given orders to fire on sight at target B. Teenage debauchery and parenting would not be allowed in a perfect society.
He checked his pager again for the images of targets A and B, seemingly a teenage couple living in the apartment. Two young faces smiled up at him. They sparked a foreign emotion in his brain, something he hadn't felt in ages. Happiness. Love.
But no, target B was a threat to society. She must be exterminated. Draculoid #163 shook his head, clearing his face of any lingering emotion, and snapped his mask over his head.
The elevator doors slid open in front of them with a pleasant ding. The hallway was quiet, with three doors to apartments leading away from the small landing. The area glowed with cold, fluorescent light. Apartment 10B was directly in front of him, the door firmly closed.
The unit leader, Draculoid #161, stepped forward and raised a white-gloved fist to the door, tapping twice with his knuckles. There was no response.
"We are representatives of Better Living Industries," he intoned. "You will be given ten seconds to open the door."
Still, the inhabitants gave no response.
Draculoid #161 smiled wickedly beneath his latex mask and raised one leg, aiming his foot at the lock on the right side of the door. It broke open cleanly with one kick.
"V formation," he muttered, and Draculoid #163 fanned out to flank the leader on the right side. Draculoid #162 mirrored him on the left, while #164 and #165 brought up the rear. The head Draculoid glanced back at the rest of his unit, checking to make sure the rest had followed his instructions, before pushing the door open.
The small apartment was in a state of disarray. Doors swung open, cabinets raided and empty, and clothes and food lay abandoned on the floor. The lights were still turned on.
Confidently, Draculoid Unit #16A stormed the apartment, checking each room carefully. But with each empty space, their brazen confidence lessened. This had never happened before. They entered, arrested and left. Their victims were brainwashed and willing, usually under the influence of Better Living's miracle pills. But Targets A and B weren't anywhere they looked.
The bedroom, Draculoid #161 reasoned as his squad stormed the final room at the end of the hallway, rayguns drawn. "Show yourselves!" he ordered forcefully.
But the apartment was completely empty.
At the moment Draculoid Unit #16A realized they may have just failed their first assignment ever, Targets A and B had just reached the streets of Battery City and were doing their best to flow with the heavy post-work crowd. Their hands tightly intertwined, they managed to lose themselves in the mass of people, letting themselves be swept down streets and side alleys until they were deposited, like leaves in a storm drain, in front of the end of Battery City's recolonized area. Past that point was all burned-out buildings and acid-soaked wasteland.
"We can stop for now," Chester panted, hunching over with his hands on his knees.
Amy shivered and sunk to the sidewalk. It had taken all her strength and energy to jog those ten blocks. After being cooped up in a small apartment for two months with no physical activity, she was in no shape to make such a daring maneuver.
"What now?" she gasped, completely devoid of breath.
"Uh…well…" Chester fumbled for a response. "The important part was getting you and the baby out alive. I didn't really plan past that point…we can't go back there, they'll have BL/ind monitoring it twenty-four-seven in case we try to return. We have to find shelter…"
"First, explain everything," she requested quietly. Her blue eyes bored into his own, begging an answer.
So he did, starting his story from the moment he left her at noon, and telling her every event up until the moment he burst back through the apartment door. The paper with the memo for his arrest and her 'extermination' was passed to her sometime about halfway through the story, and she read it with wide eyes, glancing between the sheet and him. He finished his tale with "somebody must have found out, but I didn't tell anyone."
"I didn't either," Amy murmured. "Not even Adie. I haven't talked to anyone but you since I said goodbye to Sharon on—" she broke off, gasping.
"What?" Chester asked urgently.
She shook her head slowly. "I told Sharon," she whispered. "She was the only one. I thought I could trust her!"
Tears began to roll down her face, and Chester pulled her into a tight embrace, cradling her fragile body with his own. "How c-could I have b-been so stupid?" she sobbed.
"It's alright, darling," he murmured, smoothing down her black hair comfortingly. "This just shows that we can't trust anyone but each other from now on. We've got to stick together, Amy. We're all that we've got."
"We can't live this way!" she protested.
"We'll figure something out," he reassured her. "We've made it this far already! We just have to find food and shelter somewhere out there…" his voice trailed off as they both glanced out into the demolished, barren wasteland of outer Los Angeles.
"There's no food out there," Amy whispered.
"Then we find someone who has food," Chester replied grimly.
They didn't sleep that night. Instead, they stayed up together, discussing all of their options. But the more they talked, the more hopeless they became. There were precious few places in the city where there was still decent shelter that wasn't controlled by BL/ind, and there was even less food. Amy was just about ready to give up by the third hour they stayed up talking.
"I've just killed us both," she whispered, her head in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Chester. This is all my fault."
"We're not giving up!" he protested forcefully. But he was on the edge of doing just that, and they both knew it. "There's got to be something, someone we can go to…"
The pair sank into a heavy silence for a moment, before Chester shot up, his face lighting up. "Adrienne," he breathed.
"What about her?" Amy asked dully.
"She lives out at the college, right?"
She nodded. "She got a BL/ind job—she works at a…" and then she got it, and she was standing up too, shouldering her backpack. "At a credit store!" she gasped. "She controls food!"
Amy and Chester turned to look at each other, their faces blossoming into identical expressions of hope and excitement. "How far is Adie's college?" Chester asked frantically.
"Five miles west," Amy answered. "We must have walked a mile last night, so we could make it in two hours."
"Perfect!" Chester breathed. He caught Amy up in an ecstatic hug, both of them cheering with excitement and renewed life. They had a purpose again—a life, a way out.
They were going to be fine.
The long, slow trek though the wasted and dark outer shell of Los Angeles was depressing, but it couldn't bring the couple's happy mood down too much. They walked through the broken streets hand-in-hand, impervious to the disaster strewn around them. They were survivors.
Finally, the familiar building on the cliff rose out of the horizon, and Amy smiled, squeezing Chester's hand tightly. "Look," she whispered. "We made it."
As they neared the college, they could see that the entire above-ground part was burned out, the metal frame the only part of the building still standing. There was seemingly no activity around the area.
"There were only six survivors out here, right?" Chester murmured.
"As far as Adie knew," Amy answered. "I think a few more moved out here afterwards, cause they're starting some sort of small community for college students. BL/ind sent one of their men out to monitor it, so we'll have to be careful…"
"What about Adie? What's she doing, exactly?"
They had reached the bottom of the hill. A steep road wended its way up the side of the grassy mountain, leading to the burned-out structure at the top. The cliff face on the other side was barely visible through the metal girders and flying cinders.
"They put Adie in charge of the Better Living store and food distribution for the college area," Amy explained. "She's got a pretty important position—almost everyone else is getting repair or office jobs. They repaired a 7/11 for her to run."
"We're not gonna get her in trouble, are we?" Chester asked nervously.
She sighed. "If we do, we'll leave. I hope we won't."
They avoided the college once they reached the top of the hill. Amy tugged the hood on one of her sweatshirts up, shielding her face from anyone who might be looking for the pair, and made her way to the right of the burned building to where a tiny spot of light stood out against the dark sky.
"That's got to be the store," she muttered. "She said it was right next to the college."
"I'll go in first," Chester volunteered.
Amy shook her head. "It has to be me. She doesn't know you well enough-if there's someone else in there, she won't be able to cover for you."
Chester's strong instincts of protection for his fiancée were screaming out against her decision, but he knew she was right. Adrienne was her sister, after all.
"Be careful," he murmured. "I'll be right behind you."
She smiled up at him softly and kissed him, light but long. Her warm mouth pressed against his with a sense of urgency.
"We'll be fine," she whispered against his lips. "You'll see."
"As long as we're together," he replied huskily.
"As long as we're together."
Amy pulled away, leaving one of her hands tangled in his, and pushed open the glass door to the store. A bell chimed pleasantly as they entered. Their eyes flooded with harsh fluorescent light as they stepped inside the small, clean shop.
"Hello?" a female voice called out tiredly, and the familiar face of Adrienne became visible from behind the counter. Her white Better Living apron hung askew and black tendrils of hair had escaped her bun. She wore an exhausted expression as she flipped through a newspaper listlessly.
"Um…hi," Amy answered softly. She moved closer to the counter, dragging Chester with her.
"Can I help you?" Adrienne asked boredly.
Amy inhaled heavily. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
"Huh?" The older woman glanced up, confused. The newspaper dropped to the counter with a thud. An expression of shock and disbelief spread over her face.
"Ames?" she whispered incredulously.
"Hi, Adie," Amy whispered.
The woman practically vaulted the counter, shoving through the partition and embracing her sister in a tight, protective hug. "Jesus, Amy, I thought I'd never see you again!" she gasped.
"We're fine, we're fine," Amy laughed. "Me and Chester both. We just need somewhere to stay."
Adrienne pulled back, smiling at Chester quickly and then shooting a confused glance at her younger sister. "I thought you had jobs in the city," she questioned.
Amy sighed. "Had being the operative word."
"But what happened?" the older woman asked.
"What would you do if I told you you're going to be an aunt?"
Adrienne gawked at the pair, shocked and unsure what to say. She was obviously unable to speak. However, her approval became clear when she pulled both of them into another hug.
"Jesus, Ames," she murmured. "I leave you alone for six months, and I get this."
"But BL/ind found out," Chester said grimly.
Adrienne frowned. "Is that why you're here? They kicked you out of your jobs?"
"More than that," the boy frowned. "I've got an arrest warrant, and Amy…"
"They want me exterminated," the girl shrugged.
The older woman swore under her breath. "Well, you'll have to stay here, then! You can't go in the college—too many people—but there's a back room in here I use for storage, and there's more than enough food and shit. Stay here as long as you need to. We'll figure something out."
"Aww, Adie…" Amy whispered. "Are you sure?"
Adrienne reached up and pushed a strand of black hair out of Amy's face. "A few months before Day Zero, Dad came to visit me," she murmured. "He made me promise that whatever happened to him and your mom, I'd always protect you. I promised him. Now it's time to fulfill that promise."
At this point, both girls were on the verge of tears. Chester felt it was his duty to step in and save them from the edge of the tearful breakdown that was surely imminent.
"Thanks, Adrienne," he cut in huskily. "We owe you one."
"Whatever keeps you two safe," she answered.