Images from that dark time assailed her, emboldened by her despair. The rough curvature of Duncan’s strong hand as he held hers. She remembered him saying the name, the name she never spoke. She remembered the train steaming away from the platform, boisterous and loud, but silent compared to the violent words that preceded its departure.
On the ride back to Monticello, she couldn’t help but turn away, into the carriage curtain, away from the tense glances of her brutish bodyguard-clerics, and away from Benjamin’s doting sympathies at their misfortune. She couldn’t let them see the anguish in her face, or the tear streaming down over the wrinkles in her cheek.
WINE OR BLOOD
Flora tried stuffing another loaf of bread into the top of her backpack. There wasn’t any more room. More importantly, she didn’t want to waste any more time packing. She left the bread on the table, threw the pack on her back and fastened the straps around her waist. She felt her belt to make sure her hunting knife and pistol were there. Then she walked carefully over to the steep staircase that led down to the main level of Monticello.
She scaled down backward, leaning into the stairs to offset the weight of her pack. The stairs groaned, prompting her to slow her pace.
Once in the hallway she cautiously made her way to an empty room adjoining the main foyer. Peeking through the door, she could see the way was clear. Now was her chance. She moved with haste through the foyer toward the glass doors leading outside.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Shit,” she whispered, recognizing Mehta’s voice behind her. She stopped and turned slowly, seeing him lurking in the doorway to the study.
“Like I said, you have the stealth of a mastodon.”
“It really is none of your business, but if you must know I am leaving this dysfunctional group of misfits. I’m going to save my kids.”
“You can’t leave,” Mehta said.
“Oh, I sure can,” she said. “Who are you to say? You heard what Madison said. They’re going to attack Grand Caverns any day now. With the huge force they’ve assembled, who knows how many they’ll kill. They may level the entire town. I need to get my children to safety.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Mehta said.
“I know it’s dangerous. That’s why I’m going, you ignoramus! I know it’s my destiny to be a victim of this shitty world, but I can’t bear to let my children have the same fate.”
“The patrols on the border have been quadrupled. They have cameras in some places. It’s pointless—they will capture you.”
“Watch me leave,” Flora said while turning away and walking toward the exit.
His hand wrapped around her upper arm like a vice, holding her in place.
She turned and yelled at him. “Stop it, you animal! What do you want from me? Why do you care? Why don’t you beat me and rape me right here? I know that’s what you want. Do it now, I dare you!”
He kept his grip firm despite her protests, and despite her attempts to pull away. His eyes were like storm clouds, shifting and charged with emotion. She could see in her peripheral vision that Owen had appeared in another doorway, and she could hear Madison’s cane rapping on the floor in another part of the house, heading in their direction.
“Here come your biggest fans,” she said to Mehta, waving her free hand in the air. “Show them the monster you truly are. Go ahead and destroy me. Go ahead and turn me to ash!”
But he didn’t waver.
“You should let her go, Mehta,” Owen said, leveling a pistol toward Mehta’s back, his hand visibly shaking.
Madison and two of her Yorktown men had also arrived. The men had weapons drawn. Madison put her hand out in a gesture of calm, trying to diffuse the situation.
Then, without even looking back at the weapons leveled against him, Mehta relinquished his grasp. It wasn’t what she expected. She expected him to subdue her, or to hit her. Anything but let her go. For some reason, it infuriated her more than anything. She lashed out, slapping him hard across his face.
He barely moved, and then he put his hand to his face where she’d hit him. He looked at his fingers, as if he was wiping off a bug she had swatted for him. Then he returned his gaze to her, his eyes still dark.
“Mehta is right, you know,” Madison said. “You will be caught. Then they will interrogate you. I know you care about your kids, but the odds you reach them are low. While the odds you compromise us are high.”
The weapons trained on Mehta gradually shifted their aim to her.
“And why should that matter?” Flora asked, throwing her hands up again. “We have achieved nothing here. The council of lords is stacked against us. We don’t have enough people to fight. We can’t even attempt a coup. Way too many people are rallying behind Bartz. Our only remaining hope is what? That we may gain access to this sanctuary? We are hoping to find a mythical place no one believes in, that you will tell us nothing about? No, there is no more hope. It would be better to disband and scatter so we can live out our last days in peace.”
Madison sighed. Her face was rosy from drinking. Since the last council meeting she hadn’t seemed her usual self. She had more often been quiet, dejected and full of wine.
“I know how it sounds,” Madison said, walking over to a chair and sitting. “And you’re right to be disappointed. I certainly am. I have to admit, sometimes I believe it’s hopeless.” She looked reflective, perching her chin on her cane. Then she sat up straight. “But giving up means we have nothing to live for. Giving up is suicide. ”
“I’m not giving up. I’m trying to save my children. My son, Talon, he will be on the front lines. He will be one of the first to die. You’re asking me to give up on him. Why should I care if I’m captured and your plans are revealed? I don’t trust you. Even Mehta here doesn’t trust you. You sneak around, hiding letters, spying on us, and tell us nothing. How do we know you’re any better than the railroad?”
Madison was rubbing her knee on her outstretched leg. “Yes, well, maybe I should have told you more. But what if you were captured? Then you would give them even more information that they could use against us. Then Gail would certainly find us and kill us. In fact, for a while, I thought there was a good chance you were spies, some sort of plants from the railroad.”
Flora wasn’t naïve. She’d been around manipulative politicians in Grand Caverns. She was sure this was more of the same from Madison, a vacuous explanation to mask her lies. Just as likely, Madison didn’t want to expose what this “sanctuary” was, or what it meant, because in reality it was a hopeless dream.
No, Madison’s rationalizing only strengthened Flora’s resolve. “Listen, how about I save you the trouble of contaminating me with your secrets,” Flora said. “I can’t reveal anything if I don’t know anything. So count me out, I’m leaving.” And she turned toward the door.
“Please Flora,” Madison called after her. “Please give this a chance. Give us a chance. Don’t throw your life away.”
Flora kept walking. Her heart began to pump violently. She fully expected Mehta’s grip to reassert itself on her arm, or a bullet to fly through her skull, but neither happened.
She glanced back one more time and saw Mehta standing there, transfixed on her, like a feral animal unable to attack its prey. Why was he still here? It was a question too dense to consider in this sliver of a moment. With a force of will her mind cut through the clouds, directing her hand to the glass door, then to turning the handle to open it.
But she wasn’t free. Something happened—there, at the doorway. In fact, the next few moments were so muddled that it was hard for her mind to process.