Page 96 of Resistant

“Not riding bitch, Nancy.” I quip.

She laughs as I leave them all behind and crawl onto my shitty mattress in the cardboard box hotel room. The noise outside quiets down until I only hear scuffles and whispers as I fall asleep.

I startle awake, the sound of an engine sputtering loudly outside my door. I yank jeans over my hips and stuff my arms in a jacket. Yesterday’s T-shirt will have to do.

Pounding at my door interrupts the frantic brushing of my teeth and I wave Larry inside as I spit in the sink and pack my meager belongings in my small duffle bag.

The fog swirls outside the door, and I glance at the sky, more gray mist blocking every morsel of blue. I miss the blue sky.

I approach Nancy and her bike and she hands me a helmet. I smirk and cock an eyebrow at her. Larry walks past us to his own bike.

“Nancy quit fucking with him. You are riding with me until Arcadia.”

She huffs and throws her leg over and settles behind Larry. The bike starts under me with a growl, and I smile as a burst of speed turns my belly and rips a laugh from my throat.

Fuck, I wish Brynn were here, holding on to me tightly with her thighs pressed against mine. I file that thought into the folder marked Save for Brynn when I see her again.

We ride northwest, all day. The muted glow of the sun behind the gray sinks lower and lower into the sky. The darkness starts creeping forward and I follow Larry and Nancy down a dirt road that’s almost fully overgrown. I would have missed it if they hadn’t slowed and led me through the branches.

The road dips down in a steep decline and I slow down watching Larry race in front of me. I can hear the other bikes approaching rumbling behind me. The road turns to the right and Larry makes a hard left. I hear Nancy screech with glee, her voice carrying on the wind and floating past.

We enter a tunnel that quickly closes behind us and the dirt road transitions to concrete. The lights blink on and I’m suddenly apprehensive.

Did I get led into the dragon’s lair, literally? Fuck. We follow the tunnel down until the road splits into a T and we are outside again. The air is clean, and the fog dissipates.

A buzzing sound masks the noise of my bike and I look to my right over the valley. What looks like a million birds fly over the mountain range and approach the valley. The noise coming from the flock rises into a deafening hum and I realize, those are not birds.What the fuck?

If I believed in the plagues of locusts, I’d think that time is upon me. I slow down and watch as the swarm blocks the light from the setting sun. I feel a prick on my cheek and slap at it. Holy fuck, it’s the drone mosquitos, a whole fucking army of them.

Some of the other bikers zoom past, and I rev the bike to catch up. My heart is beating on overdrive, and I push the bike to its limits. My headlights shine over a wrought iron sign that reads “Arcadia.” Small paths lead in multiple directions, and I peer around until the darkness settles over us. I glance behind me, and it seems that the swarm has continued to follow the path we just came from flying into the tunnel. Even from this distance I can tell that some of them are crashing into the concrete.

I follow the bikers up a dirt path. The miles tick by, my heart is still crashing against my chest, and my teeth feel like they are going to rattle out of my head. The darkness becomes absolute around me, and I follow the lights in front of me and we stop at the end of the overgrown path that has widened into a drive.

Scuffles and laughter sound behind me as I take off my helmet and study the house. It’s not a house. It’s a sprawling ranch, might have been a hotel back in the day.

The building is massive, three stories high, with wood beams everywhere. I’m astounded I can see the roofline; I’ve become so used to the gray covering everything like a thick web.

Nancy leads me inside, and I stumble over my own feet when I see a familiar face waiting for me in the large entry.

A massive stone fireplace dominates the room and sitting before it in a wing-backed chair is Riesa. She smiles at me from across the room. When I make no move to greet her, she gets up and strolls over to me, hugging me close.

“I know this is a shock, and you are all kind of worried about Brynn right now, but I’m happy to see you. Happy you made it here. Welcome to Arcadia.”

I’m overwhelmed by her presence.Who the fuck is she? How did Riesa get out of the concentration camp? Is she in charge around here? Why did she let us leave with Knox if she could get out? These possibilities and more swirl in my head and I find myself getting angry. How much of our current circumstances could have been prevented?

“I promise to answer all your questions, but let’s get you settled and get you something to eat.”

“How the fuck did you get here Riesa?”

“Same way you did. I had someone escort me out. So, I sent a message out to a friend of mine, and here I am. I went into the camp already part of Arcadia, I was there to find out who was on the inside. Finding you and Brynn was a coincidence.”

She leads me to a large room with a four-post king-size bed and a private bath.

“This is your room; you’ll not have any roommates until we extract Brynn. There are clothes in the dresser and closet for both of you. If you don’t find what you need, let Shyann know. She runs the ranch for us so we can undermine the Reform and the Resistance.”

I step away from her.

“I know, Declan you are Resistance; we all started out there, but the resistance is as corrupt as the Reform.

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