Chapter 16

Allies and Foes:

“Are you okay?” Josie murmured for the hundredth time.

Dust nodded. He wasn’t really. The shivers that began shortly after they set out had grown worse. Even with the heavy winter clothing, he was freezing. At the same time, his skin felt as hot as Josie’s when she was all fired up.

The minutes turned into agonizing hours, and when it began to grow dark, the three soldiers didn’t slow down their pace. The storm that caused them to crash had disappeared just as quickly as it had formed. The only thing that still remained was the heavy green fog.

“What the…?” Josie breathed, coming to a sudden stop.

Dust drew to a stop beside Josie. They had exited the woods and climbed a rocky embankment onto a wide highway. Ahead of them was a bridge lined with abandoned cars and bordered by the remains of a residential neighborhood. Dust looked at the long row of houses rising out of the fog like ghostly apparitions.

“Where are we?” Dust asked Bowling.

“Outskirts of the forbidden zone,” Bowling harshly replied.

“The forbidden zone?” Josie repeated.

Daniels nodded. “It is the line where this green shit begins and where it disappears. The winds coming from the ocean keep it off the coast,” he replied.

“I don’t remember Portland being all that close to the ocean,” Dust said in confusion.

Daniels glanced at him before looking away. “At least half of the coast was destroyed or disappeared under the water after the initial impact. What’s left of the city is a lot closer than it used to be,” he informed them before becoming silent again.

Dust took a shaky breath. His aunt and uncle’s house was in Troutdale, a suburb of Portland along the Columbia River. He looked at the bridge again. Even twisted and broken it seemed familiar. He searched across the raging river and saw the hollowed out remains of a dozen or more motor homes. He knew this place. It was the RV Park that they used to drive by and his mom and aunt would tease him by asking him which one he wanted to travel in. He had been across this bridge hundreds of times. His aunt and uncle lived a little over a mile on the other side.

“I…,” he began before a strange moan filled the air.

He wanted to look around and see where the sound came from, but for some reason he was captivated by the darkening of the green fog—which was turning into a shimmering hue. In the back of his mind, he realized that the others had turned toward the moaning sound. They were all looking at him. Josie’s eyes were narrowed in concern while the soldiers looked at him with growing suspicion and apprehension.

His legs trembled. He looked up at Josie when she grabbed the straps of his backpack. The worried expression on her face had changed to desperation.

“You have to keep going,” she murmured, shaking him a little.

“What’s wrong with him?” Matthews demanded, taking a step toward them.

“Nothing,” Josie replied, looking over her shoulder. “He just can’t believe we’ve made it to Portland. Isn’t that right, Dust?”

He swallowed and nodded. Matthews was clearly not convinced. Dust wanted to grin, but couldn’t without releasing the tension he was putting on his jaws to keep his teeth from chattering.

“Josie, I’ve got to find a place to… recharge,” he mumbled.

Josie’s expression softened. “I know. Do you know what is going on?” she quietly asked.

Dust licked his lips. “I think… I think I’m changing again,” he admitted.

* * *

Josie took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder. The three soldiers were quietly discussing which way to proceed. Something was going on between them. She had been around her dad and his gang long enough to learn how to read the subtle nuances in their expressions and body language. They were up to something. Matthews had been visibly upset and frustrated when Daciana followed Sammy and Todd onto the other helicopter. Why would it have mattered—unless they were trying to separate the normal humans from the not-so-normal ones? Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a can of the supplemental drink she had stashed in case of an emergency and popped the top open.

“Drink this and whatever you do, don’t pass out. I have a feeling we’re in danger and it isn’t coming from the green gas floating around us,” she muttered.

Dust nodded. “Me too,” he mumbled.

She watched as he lifted the can to his mouth with shaking hands. She could feel the heat radiating from his body despite the cold wind coming down the river. They needed to find a place where she could build a fire, and Dust could rest until these new changes passed. She hoped that what was going on inside him didn’t take as long as the last time.

Her wish must have been heard because a snapping sound caused the three soldiers to look up in alarm. The dark waves of green fog were rolling toward them. Mixed in the fog were long tentacles of lightning, snapping and crackling along the ground. The electrical charge in the air made her hair stand on end.

“Run!” Bowling yelled above the roar.

Josie wrapped her arm around Dust’s waist and pulled him along beside her. They ran along the highway, weaving through abandoned cars and over pavement littered with the debris of rocks, dead trees, and garbage.

She almost fell when Dust stumbled. She could hear him muttering for her to leave him, but she ignored his otherwise incoherent mutterings. They managed to reach the bridge and were almost halfway across when Dust tripped over a broken piece of pavement. They both fell.

Josie looked up, desperately searching for one of the soldiers, but they had disappeared. She turned her head and took a swift, horrified breath when she saw a wall of water heading toward them down the gorge.

Scrambling to her feet, she pulled Dust’s arms to get him up. If the electrically-charged storm didn’t kill them, the massive wave of water would. Josie recoiled when four figures draped in dark hooded cloaks suddenly appeared beside her. One of the cloaked figures grasped her arm and began pulling her while two more lifted Dust to his feet, wrapped their arms around his waist, and moved at a rapid pace across the swaying bridge. The last one stood in the center of the bridge with his arms outstretched—one hand holding the wall of water back while his other created a barrier against the storm.

Her view of the man was disrupted when she was pushed through the open door of a cargo van. Seconds later, the cloaked figure from the bridge joined them and slammed the door shut. A man sitting in the passenger seat barked out a swift order to the driver. Josie knelt over Dust. Her hands were raised, and her fingertips danced with flames of warning as she eyed the covered faces. She wasn’t taking any chances. The day had already gone from hell to eternal damnation thanks to bugs, crashes, and horse-shit soldiers who left civilians behind.

“You can put out the flames, girl. We aren’t the ones you should be afraid of,” the man in the passenger seat said as he turned and pushed off the hood of his cloak.

Josie looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’ll be the judge of that. Who are you?” she hissed, trying not to fall over when the driver turned the corner and weaved through a series of overturned vehicles.

“My name is Dan Brown. I know Dust. It is good to see he made it. Who are you?” Dan replied.

Josie slowly lowered her hands. More to brace herself than because she felt any less threatened. She twisted and sat down on the floor of the van when the driver took another corner faster than she felt was necessary. She pushed her hair back from her face and studied the faces as the others began to remove their hoods.

“I’m Josie. How do you know Dust?” she asked.

“He’s our nephew,” the woman sitting across from her said. “I’m Margery.”

Josie looked at the woman who had held back the fog and water. Her dark brown hair was highlighted with strands of gray at her temples and her face was smooth except for a few wrinkles around her mouth and eyes. Her dark brown gaze looked back at Josie with a compassionate, yet curious expression.

“He came looking for you,” Josie blurted out, realizing the others were waiting for her reply.

“I’m glad he did,” Dan replied.

Josie watched Dan turn and murmur to the driver. The man slowed as they entered a more congested area. Josie peered out of the front windshield of the van as two men ran forward and pulled open a large metal gate. It looked as if they were entering the back entrance of a school.

“Welcome to college,” Margery teased with a smile.

* * *

Dust faded in and out—literally. He could hear the gasps, giggles, and exclamations in the background. At times he could even feel fingers checking his hot forehead.

“He feels cooler than he did before,” a woman’s voice said.

“Thank you, Trista,” another woman replied.

A frown creased his brow. He knew that voice. He’d heard it on and off most of his life. Clawing his way back to reality, he forced his heavy eyelids open. He blinked several times to clear his vision. A familiar face peered down at him.

“Aunt Margery?” he forced out past his dry throat.

“Oh, Dust,” Margery murmured, stroking his brow with tender fingers. She looked away and spoke to someone behind her. “Are you sure his fever is going down? He still feels hot.”

“It is barely above normal now and there is no guarantee that it isn’t his new ‘normal’ body temperature,” Trista replied.

“I’m hungry,” he murmured, wincing when his stomach cramped and growled.

Relieved laughter filled the room. He turned his head when he heard Josie’s mixed with the others. She winked at him and grinned.

“I told them you’d be starving when you woke up,” she teased.

A ghost of a smile curved his lips before he turned his attention back to his aunt. Over her shoulder, he saw another familiar face appear. Tears suddenly blurred his vision, and he knew he was about to embarrass himself.

His uncle motioned for everyone to leave the room. Dust turned his head when Josie touched his shoulder. She bent down and brushed a surprising kiss across his lips.

“I’m glad you woke up,” she whispered before straightening and walking out of the room.

“Wow,” Dan replied, watching Josie walk out of the room before he turned and grinned at Dust. “No wonder she has been so protective of you.”

Dust opened his mouth to correct his uncle, but instead of words of protest, a choked sob came out instead. His aunt immediately sat down on the bed next to him and pulled him into her arms. He wrapped his arms around her and held on as grief engulfed him.

He didn’t know how long he cried. The wall that he had built around his heart over the last couple of years felt like it was crumbling.

“They’re gone,” he finally choked out. “They… they didn’t make it. Everything… I Changed… There was nothing…,” he gasped, taking shuddering breaths between trying to explain everything that had happened over the last two years. He took a deep breath and gazed at his uncle with red-rimmed eyes.

“Tell us what you can,” Dan quietly requested.

With a slow, jerky nod, Dust began at the very beginning. Minutes turned into hours as he shared every detail of what he had seen—and done. The doctor came in and placed a tray beside him. She gave Dan and Margery a fierce glare before she smiled at him and left again.

He ate, talked, ate some more, and talked until his voice was raw and hoarse. Finally, he grew quiet. There was nothing else to say. He looked down at his hands and wondered what new changes had occurred to his body. He could feel a difference inside himself, but feeling and understanding were two very different things.

“I have to find Sammy, Todd, and Daciana,” he said in a voice made rough from his emotional outburst. He looked up at his aunt and uncle. “I promised that I would protect them.”

Dan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It won’t be easy. We have a few spies inside Asylum. I can reach out to them. We have to be cautious. General Troyfield has a dangerous contempt for anyone who is different,” he said, picking up his aunt’s hand and lifting it to his lips.

“What will he do if he catches someone who is… different?” Dust asked, thinking of Daciana.

Margery’s eyes glittered with angry tears. “If they are lucky, he’ll just have them killed. If not….” She stood up and shook her head before turning on her heel and hurrying out of the room.

Dust watched his aunt leave. His stomach clenched at the expression of grief and anger on her face. He looked back at his uncle.

“What happens to them, Uncle Dan?” he asked.

His uncle ran his large hand over his face and deeply sighed. “The General has a team of doctors—and I use the term ‘doctors’ very loosely—working for him. Their entire focus is finding out what each person can do and trying to ‘heal’ them. The process usually results in death or worse,” he explained.

Dust didn’t ask what the ‘or worse’ part was. He had a pretty good idea of what it was. He frowned. Sammy and Todd should be alright. They were normal, but Daciana—he wasn’t exactly sure how powerful the She-Devil was, but he knew from experience that angering her could prove fatal to any who opposed her.

“There were three soldiers on the helicopter with us when it crashed. Have they been found?” he asked.

“No, and it is best that they aren’t—by any of our people anyway. Most of the people here have been altered in some way or another. A few of us haven’t, but we have loved ones that have been, like your aunt and me. Those in the district have lost one or more loved ones to General Troyfield’s sadistic experiments. Any military personnel from Asylum are distrusted and held in the same contempt as the man they follow. It is the nature of the beast, I’m afraid,” he explained.

“I just don’t want to put anyone in danger,” he said with a sigh.

“These are dangerous times, Dust. We don’t leave friends and family behind. You—above anyone else—should recognize that,” Dan said, lifting his hand and resting it on Dust’s shoulder. “Enough of that for now. If you are feeling up to it, I’ll give you a tour of the city.”

“Thanks,” he replied, rising from the bed.

Understanding what was going on here would help him figure out what he would need to do next. He had promised to help Daciana. Hopefully, the She-Devil had kept her cool and this General Troyfield didn’t know that she was different. His gut was telling him that was wishful thinking. His biggest fear was that the General would harm Sammy and Todd.

Sliding his hands in his pockets, he curled his fingers into fists when he felt a strange and unexpected wave of rage at the thought. He glanced at his reflection in a glass case as they passed. A stranger’s eyes stared back at him with eyes that glowed with a bright green flame around intense brown irises.