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The Sole Survivor

Page 11

by E.S. Luck

“Who are you?” I dared to ask, but I kept my voice as low and calm as possible. I had the sense that this man, whoever he was, cared a great deal about appearances and wouldn’t take kindly to an outburst from me, no matter how tempted I was.

He cocked his head to the side, studying me as if I was a particularly interesting animal.

“Yes, I suppose you wouldn’t know,” he said with another bland smile. “I am called the Sire. You, however, may call me Julius—a liberty not many others are afforded.”

He thinks very much of himself, I thought, but then realized by his demeanour that he intended it as a compliment. His version of flattery. How strange.

“Why am I here, Julius?”

The question hung in the air, but Julius didn’t acknowledge it.

“Would you like a coffee? Tea?” he offered. “I can order one in for you if you wish.”

I stared at him. “No. Thank you. I really just—”

I cut myself off because he clearly wasn’t paying attention. Instead, he’d pulled something up on his screen and tapped a few keys. Two minutes later, the receptionist reappeared, carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. The scent filled me with nostalgia, since naturally, there was no coffee at home. John taught me to brew something similar with chicory root, but though it was delicious, it wasn’t quite the same.

“Thank you, Callista,” Julius said to the receptionist, who brightened at his praise.

The coffee mug was thrust into my hands despite my prior refusal, and then we were alone again. Despite the tempting scent, I wouldn’t take a single sip. Their warm welcome hadn’t made me forget that I was here against my will.

“I hope your journey wasn’t too taxing?” Julius said, raising an eyebrow. “Major Hamilton reported some…difficulties.”

I took a breath and tried to remember the soft, compliant woman I’d been when I lived in the Cave. That was always what got me furthest with the bureaucratic types there. They respected a calm, collected, deferential persona, especially in women. It was the best way to extract information from them: pretending I wasn’t a threat.

The problem was that I might not be pretending. I had no plan of escape, and no real leverage here. Time to discover it, I resolved. Whatever they have planned for me, I won’t be helpless anymore. If there’s a way back to the Valley, I’m going to find it.

I sat in the chair across from his enormous desk, folding my hands in my lap and giving Julius a small, apologetic smile.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t understand your men’s intentions at the time,” I said, intentionally making it sound like my fault. I had the impression he wouldn’t like being accused of anything. “I still don’t, truthfully.”

“Ah,” he replied, stroking his well-groomed beard. “I suppose that’s fair. Their orders were not to disclose, out of an abundance of caution. There are eyes and ears in and outside these walls that have no loyalty to anyone but themselves.”

I nearly frowned, but caught myself just in time and kept my expression neutral. Internally, however, my mind was whirring: what on earth did that mean? No one who hadn’t lived inside a compound could understand how incredible an admission that was: that there might be spies among their ranks, people they couldn’t control or silence, with a mission of their own. It was fascinating and terrifying at the same time.

Julius fixed me with a penetrating stare, and I knew he was studying me as much as I was him. He steepled his fingers together on his desk, but said nothing.

Eventually, the silence stretched on for long enough that I was forced to ask once again, “So…why am I here? I don’t see why the Delta would expend considerable time and resources to retrieve a non-citizen…especially one as insignificant as me.”

It was the question that burned inside me throughout our journey to the Delta. These people had no reason to be interested in the life of a teacher from the Cave who’d had the sheer dumb luck to survive in the Wasteland.

The corner of Julius’s mouth raised slightly. “On the contrary, Ms. Ainsley…your survival has been very significant to us. How did a woman with no survival skills, no special abilities, and no one willing to help her, escape the Purge at the Cave?”

Stunned, I opened my mouth, then closed it. I wasn’t sure if the question was rhetorical or not, and I was not interested in giving an honest answer that might expose John, Kimmy, or the Valley.

“How do you know that?” I asked instead. “How did you even know I survived?”

“I know everything about you,” Julius replied, with a smile that raised goosebumps on my arms. “I know your parents are Brandon and Meredith Ainsley, and that your father died when you were thirteen. I know that you were a high school teacher who lived in a cute little townhouse with a blue door, and that you and your husband—Neil, was it?—were only married a few months before his tragic murder at the hands of the Order.”

My breath caught. John had told me what Asha confessed when he confronted her—that the compounds were owned and controlled by the same people. The only explanation that made sense was that the Delta shared information with the Cave, and Julius was privy to it. Was Julius one of these mysterious owners?

If so, the stakes were even higher than I’d feared. This man had power beyond anything I could imagine—power so potent that it required him to cloak himself in secrecy. Why he was speaking to me, of all people, just became an even greater mystery.

“I know that you survived the attack, and then disappeared. We presumed you were dead until, by some stroke of good fortune, we were alerted that you were in the area by a strange radio call we received.”

My mouth went dry, but I managed to croak, “A radio call?”

“Indeed,” Julius murmured, his steely blue eyes flashing. “I believe someone called Asha Agarwal attempted to contact us. Of course, given the rogue nature of the call, we did not respond; we couldn’t risk compromising our location. But it prompted us to search for your tracking beacon. Initially, we were unable to locate you—I suppose you must’ve been out of range—but then, one day, there you were.”