“Don’t you dare utter her name,” Kyle said angrily.
“Let me remember, oh yeah, it was, Tif…”
Kyle pulled the trigger. The forty-five caliber round struck Xavier in the head and exited out the back leaving the wall behind him covered in blood and brain matter.
Xavier dropped to the ground dead.
“You did it! For a time there, I didn’t think you’d do it. I can’t fucking believe it, you killed him. Yes! Yes! You did it!” Barry cheered.
A gunshot cracked behind Kyle. He looked down expecting to see an exit would but nothing was there.
Barry turned to see Bravo One standing in the open doorway of the office with a pistol in her hand. She pulled the trigger of her pistol again but this time it didn’t fire. She tried again, nothing.
Not waiting to get shot at again, Kyle swiveled around and shot her two times in the chest.
She stumbled forwards, dropped to her knees then fell forward, her head smacking the floor hard. She gasped loudly then died.
The roar of heavy footfalls echoed in the hall beyond.
Kyle gave Barry and look, seeking to know what he should do.
“Don’t do anything stupid, I’ll tell the guards to stand down, but I think you should put the gun down,” Barry said walking towards Kyle.
A squad of guards rushed into the room, their rifles at the ready but Barry now stood in between them and Kyle, who still held the pistol firmly in his grip and out in front of him.
“Driver Eight, put down the gun. No more deaths. We have a deal, remember.”
The lead guard shouted, “Number Two step out of the way!”
“Don’t shoot, I’ve got this handled,” Barry replied. “Driver Eight, give me the pistol. These men won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“Can I trust you?”
“Of course, we had a deal.”
Kyle nodded and let go of his pistol.
Barry took it, stepped a few feet away and barked, “Arrest him. He murdered my father, he murdered our dear leader!”
Portia ran a brush through Melissa’s long, thick, dark hair. “What kind of braid do you want?”
“What kind are there?” Melissa asked moving the arms of a doll that sat on her lap.
“Let’s see, there’s a French braid, and a tear drop braid, that one we take and have it make a teardrop shape around your ear.”
“That one sounds nice,” Melissa answered.
Loud banging came from the door.
“You stay in here, let me see who that is,” Portia said getting up and going to the front door. “Who is it?”
The door burst open striking Portia, causing her to fall backwards onto the floor. Guards raced in, rifles at the ready. “Portia Grant you’re under arrest.”
Melissa emerged from the bedroom to see what all the noise was. A guard spotted her and yelled. “Take the girl into custody too.”
“Leave her alone,” Portia yelled now on her belly as a guard cuffed her.
Melissa stood clinging to her doll as a guard walked over and picked her up.
Cuffed, Portia was pulled to her feet. “Where’s Number One? He put me here.”
The guards remained silent.
“Talk to Number One, he knows I’m here,” Portia yelled.
Barry walked into the room. “Hi Portia.”
“Who are you? Wait, you’re Number One’s son,” Portia said. “Tell him what’s happening, please.”
“Unfortunately, that’s now impossible on account of your husband murdered our dear leader,” Barry explained.
“That’s impossible, Kyle is dead, your father told me this morning.”
“You must be confused. Your husband is very much alive and my father is very much dead. I was with him when Driver Eight came into his office and gunned him down in cold blood.”
“Impossible. Even if Kyle was alive, he’d never kill Number One, never.”
“Again, you’re mistaken. He did kill him,” Barry said. He cleared his throat and continued, “Portia Grant you’re being arrested for high treason, conspiring to murder our dear leader and kidnapping.” Barry looked at Melissa and said, “Take her back to her father. Tell him she doesn’t have the virus and that I expect his loyalty."
"Are you sure?" the guard asked.
"Yes, you see, I’m merciful," Barry laughed.
“Why are you doing this?” Portia cried.
Barry gave Portia a toothy grin and said, “Take her away.”
The guards escorted Portia from the room.
Knowing he needed to proceed rapidly, Barry turned to the lead guard and ordered, “Call a mandatory gathering for first thing in the morning. We need to give the residents of The Collective swift justice.”
“Yes, sir.”
The other guards left leaving Barry alone in the room. He walked to a large window and looked out on the picturesque scenery of the sloping mountain. The ski runs that once graced the north facing slope could still be made out, though they were overgrown with thick vegetation and small trees. The high speed quad which used to ferry happy skiers to the top sat silent. For Barry it represented a by gone day, a reminder of a time that had run its course. Not far from the quad sat the magic carpet lift used for new skiers to access the bunny slope. He remembered riding that for the first time when he was six, life was happy for him then, though his father and mother both spent most of their time working, leaving him to sit alone in his room playing. His dad took him out that day after his first ski lesson. He was so happy to be spending time with him, and proud to show how good he was after one lesson. But it was fleeting, he never went again after that and six months later the world he knew ended. It was ironic he called an old ski town home, since he couldn’t even ski. But who skied anymore? He rose his chest high and smiled for everyone had underestimated him. From Kyle to his father, he had outmaneuvered everyone. Soon he’d get his payback against Kyle for the disrespect he suffered from him. Once he was gone, he’d take full control of The Collective and lead it the way he saw fit.
A loud clang woke Kyle. Groggy, he slowly opened his eyes and looked around but saw nothing. Shuffling feet stirred his curiosity. He sat up and to his surprise saw it was Portia being escorted down the walkway. He got to his feet and briskly walked to the end of his cell. “Are you okay?” he asked, his arm dangling between the bars hoping to touch her.
She took his hand in hers and said, “I’m fine. I’m so happy to see you. I was told you were dead.”
“Move along,” a guard barked and shoved her.
“You hurt her, I’ll…”
“You won’t do anything Driver Eight, just shut up and sit down,” the guard mocked taking Portia by the arm and placing her in the cell next to Kyle.
When the guard disappeared, Kyle called out, “Portia, are you there?”
“Yes.”
Six inches of reinforced concrete separated them. Though they couldn’t see the other, they could hear.
“Kyle, what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out,” he answered.
“I’m so sorry, I got you wrapped up in this. It’s all my fault,” she moaned.
“Stop it, this has nothing to do with you. These was a scheme by Barry to take control of The Collective.”
“Is it true Number One is dead?”
“Yes.”
“And is it true you killed him?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, I wish I could see your face and hold your hand,” she complained.
“The fault is mine, if I hadn’t been on the road all the time, this wouldn’t have happened,” he said.
“No, it’s my fault,” she countered.
“Well, it doesn’t matter now. We’re in this situation, but I’ll figure something out,” Kyle said hoping he could find a way to reassure. While he gave her hope and an optimistic appraisal, deep down he knew their situation was almost untenable.