Page 59 of Redemption
“Good, sir.”
David folds his arms across his chest as he regards them with an inquisitive glare. “Were you part of the party responsible for the collection of our newest initiates?”
“Yes, sir,” they both respond in tandem.
David’s grin widens at their response, turning purely sadistic as he takes a lingering step forward. “Splendid! Then you can explain to me why two vehicles were used for transport during the extraction when we have a perfectly functioning tunnel system in place?” The guards look at one another, their mouths falling open as they grasp for some sort of response. David doesn’t wait for one, however, as his grin falls, a menacing shadow falling across his face. “A system that effectively eliminates the ability for those in our care to perform any retaliation maneuvers during transport due to the unlimited resources available in the Underground?”
The guard on the right, Samson, steps forward. “I apologize, sir. From what the others indicated, these guys were extremely combative upon initial contact. They’re also not normal civilians just trying to survive out there, as per the norm. These guys had weapons, tactical training, knowledge of evasive maneuvers. Silver, Rico, and the other superiors thought it best we restrain and separate them for transport, limiting their ability to regain consciousness and rally together if they did. This guy and one other were placed in separate vehicles, while the third was taken by Silver’s team via the tunnel system.”
David nods at Samson’s report, pursing his lips as he takes another step forward, cool as a cucumber but lethal in his unyielding stare. “You are aware we lost three good men during the transport of the very same person you are securing in that room, are you not?”
Samson’s throat works on an audible gulp. “Yes, sir.”
“So, then, the mission wasn’t as successful as your superiors had intended, was it?”
“No, sir.” His face is void of emotion, but a drop of sweat betrays his distress as it trickles down the side of his face.
David is unrelenting with his domination, silently observing every microexpression Samson provides. His head tilts to the side as his mouth opens, tongue in his cheek as he studies the guard, his gaze scrupulous and unwavering. And then, like the flip of a switch, David smiles again, his cheeks pulling at the corners of his mouth as the room fills with false hope and silent threats. “But alas, young Samson, in the end, that wasn’t your fault. But it is a conversation I’ll be having with your superiors.” He turns back to me, seemingly unperturbed, and places his elbows on the desk, hunching over it and crowding close. The expensive yet repulsive cologne he insists upon wearing irritates my eyes, but I keep my reaction hidden behind the tightened clench of my jaw. “And what about his... other tests?”
The other tests...
The ones I refuse to take part in.
Abrupt disobedience, such as mine, wouldn’t go so far if I were anyone else. Over the past few months—and for far less infractions—David has thrown dozens of defectors to suffer the whims of the hordes. But I’m not like them. I’m valuable—the only official medical personnel living within the boundaries of Phoenix Rising. Sure, there are others that work in the Infirmary on David’s orders doing the disgusting jobs I refuse to do, as well as lower-level triage to lift the burden of taking care of an entire community off my shoulders, but I’m the only one who actually knows how to save a life. How to keep this communityof his running. The only one who knows how to run the tests to determine who’s immune and who is vulnerable. Too many years working in microbiology and disease control gifted me the knowledge to isolate the known variables and create the tests we use today.
To be honest, if I could leave tomorrow, I would. But I, like the women of this community and our new friend down the hallway, am kept under lock and key. Not necessarily restricted to a room as Jackson is, but watched, day in and day out. There never comes a time when someone doesn’t know where I am. Hourly checks are held to determine my whereabouts, and if I’m not at my designated position for that time of day, all hell breaks loose.
The one and only time I missed a check-in, David rounded up his entire militia to hunt me down. If he had just checked in the bathroom, he would have found me immediately. Instead, the town was turned upside down, the buildings were emptied, and the fields where we grow our crops were trampled underfoot as if they were conducting a search and rescue for a kid in a lake. Hand in hand, they marched through the tall stalks until I walked onto the main road and asked someone who they were looking for. The man then turned to me, wide-eyed, and yelled, “HE’S HERE!” It was then I realized they were looking for me while I was just taking a break after lunch.
The urge to leave only got worse when, after a few months here, I realized exactly what David and his loyalists do within the sanctity of his carefully selected company. The filthy depravity that called for an adjustment to the routine checks and tests we perform on a daily basis upon welcoming a new person into the “community.”
I’m sure anyone witnessing my predicament would ask why I didn’t stop them. Why not offer an alternative to whatDavid proposed we started doing to each and every one of those lost individuals seeking refuge?
Believe me, I tried.
I tried stopping them. Tried teaching them new ways to get the same results they sought from the people they harbored. Even tried to intervene physically, protecting my patients with violence when all of my pleas were falling on deaf ears.
All it got me was a week in the Narrows, held in the dark as I nursed myself back to health after almost meeting my own death at the hands of those who are now in charge of the very testing methods I, myself, refused to be a part of. They left me beaten, battered, and broken. Concussed and temporarily deformed. Barely alive with the lingering threat that if I ever intervened with their newly amended protocol again, I’d find myself right back here or worse.
They’d go afterher.
My reason for still breathing in this putrid little fucked-up town.
I met her here a few weeks after being welcomed by David, himself. Beautiful beyond measure, both body and soul. She captivated me in an instant, and I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was the best thing that’s ever happened to me, who then turned into being the one thing they can hold against me.
It’s been months since I saw her last, taken not even a week after David changed his ways and started preaching about a new calling to combat the effects of the plague. To defeat the destruction caused by the contagion. To turn the tides and create a new world under his righteous guidance.
But it was nothing like anyone could’ve ever imagined.
The things they do...
The things they’ve tried to makemedo...
If it was just me, I would have let them kill me, let them drag me down and end it all. The thought of what happens in the dark recesses of the township sickens me to the point I can hardly eat nowadays without wanting to vomit everything right back up.
But I do what I must...
Bending what little rules I’m able...
