Divided We Fall Read online

  Adam Bender

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Text copyright © 2014 by Adam Bender

  Cover design by Belinda Pepper

  Edited by Coraline Denhart

  First paperback edition 2014

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Print typesetting and e-book formatting byBookCoverCafe.com

  www.WeTheDivided.com

  978-0-9924629-0-1

  Dedication

  For Mallika, a true love who I could never forget.

  Table of Contents

  Divided

  Fallen Apart

  At First Sight

  Panic

  Blockade

  Missionary

  Loganville

  First Date

  Heresy!

  Lost & Found

  The Prisoner

  The Promise

  Allies

  Surprise

  Reunion

  Plans

  Doors

  Bridge

  Engine Valley

  At Second Sight

  Division

  Facility B

  Seven v. Jon

  The Return

  Until Death…

  United

  Last Days

  Regrets

  Politics

  Alone, Together

  Heretics & Saints

  Evidence

  V-H Day

  Commitment

  The Debate

  Life Support

  Once & Future

  Attack!

  Faith

  A New Day

  Ever After

  —PART ONE—

  Divided

  The entire limousine shook as another squadron of jets rocketed into the smoking Capital. Eve did her best to keep a glass of red wine from spilling onto the plush white seats.

  “I’m starting to suspect drinking was a bad idea,” she lilted to her chauffeur through the partition. “And yet it seemed like such a good idea at the time.”

  With a wry smile, he released the brake and caught up with the traffic jam.

  Lifting a free hand, Eve pulled several fugitive blond hairs from her eyes. Now she could see why the evacuation was proceeding at such a trickle pace–the Guard had formed a blockade at the Tunnel. They were stopping everyone.

  Eve counted three lanes open for the evacuation, with a fourth reserved for Guard vehicles coming into the Capital. Two soldiers stood in front of each entrance.

  Fascinating, she thought. This was the kind of thing the Guard did before sports events or big parades downtown. But Eve couldn’t quite wrap her head around why the president would have ordered a roadblock during a national emergency, when the priority should be moving people along.

  “This all seems a bit excessive, don’t you think?” she asked the driver.

  He didn’t reply.

  Frowning at her Pinot Noir, Eve remarked, “You give me no choice,” and tossed it back.

  She caught a glimpse of the chauffeur’s critical eyes in the rear-view mirror. She moaned slightly and covered her face.

  “Sir?” the driver tried.

  Following the advice of her psychologist, Eve took a deep breath. Then, she disregarded it and poured herself more wine.

  Eventually, the limo pulled up alongside one of the soldiers. He looked like all the Guard did: tall, stiff, midnight blue uniform. This one had tan skin and a mat of black dots for hair.

  “Driver’s license,” the soldier commanded.

  The driver handed him a card and the Guard swiped it though a black, handheld terminal. He studied the device’s screen for a few seconds before handing the card back.

  Without warning, the soldier popped his head through the window. The driver reeled back and coughed at the intrusion. Eve raised her eyebrows.

  “How’s everyone doing in here?” the Guard asked with a bit too much mirth for Eve’s liking.

  She tilted her head just slightly. “We’re fine.”

  “Oh, just one in the back,” the soldier mumbled. He studied her, and added, “Have you been crying?”

  Her mouth dropped. “Excuse me?”

  “Your eyes are red.”

  She couldn’t believe it–not only were the Guard stopping cars, they were wasting people’s time! Didn’t he have any idea who she was, where they were going?

  “This is an evacuation!” Eve finally exclaimed. “We’re being attacked!”

  He nodded. “Don’t worry, it’s all under control. Please roll down your window. I need to see your ID as well.”

  Mumbling curses, Eve followed instructions.

  The Guard swiped the card. What appeared on the screen turned his face white. “Oh,” he whimpered.

  “Is there a problem?” Eve asked. “Does it say I’m a Heretic?”

  “No, I just–I didn’t realize,” he stuttered. Still shaking, he attempted a salute. “I’m sorry, sir–I mean, madam? Um, ma’am?”

  “You can call me ‘sir,’” she snapped. “What’s your name, soldier?”

  “Rodriguez, m–sir!”

  “Rodriguez, don’t ask people so many questions,” Eve sneered. “We’re under attack, for God’s sake! Do you see that line of cars back there? They don’t want to talk. They want to get out.”

  “Yes, sir!” he said. “Sorry, sir!”

  “Well?” she said. It wasn’t really a question. “Can we get on our way now?”

  Rodriguez’s face took on the complexion of a tomato. He saluted, stumbled away from the car, and saluted again.

  The chauffeur rolled up the windows and shifted into drive. “Sorry about the inconvenience, sir.”

  Eve squeezed drops into her eyes and blinked at her reflection in a pocket mirror. Her eyes really were red, and the veins were showing. With a look of disgust, she tossed the glass aside and pressed her hands across her face.

  The light from Eve’s tablet provided some familiar warmth in the mountain underpass known as the Tunnel. She had a word processing app open. In a previous attempt to type out her emotions, she had managed the word Journal and today’s date. Biting her lip, she tapped return and wrote:

  So, the War’s come home.

  Eve groaned. She deleted the line and started over again.

  Last night, the Enemy arrived on our shores and bombed the Capital. They destroyed the Tower.

  Suddenly, her typing turned frantic.

  I had Jon. But he ran away, and I don’t know where he’s gone.

  She clenched her teeth.

  No, that’s wrong. That wasn’t Jonathan Wyle who ran away; it was “Seven.” He didn’t know what he was doing. He doesn’t remember who he really is. He doesn’t remember me.

  I can still get my Jon back. I will get him back.

  I tried, God. I really tried! I did everything I was supposed to. I go to church every day! I joined the Guard! My job is to remove Heretics, for God’s sake! What have I done wrong to deserve this punishment?!

  Eve took a few seconds to roll the kinks out of her neck.

  I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak out of turn, my Lord. Please forgive me. It’s just…this war, it was never supposed to come home. We worked so hard to prevent this from happening. How could this be happening? Have we failed You? I know the Headmaster always said You would become vengeful if we couldn’t curb the Heretic problem.

  Eve read over the entry and shook her head in disgust. She
considered deleting it all but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she hit the return key until the text scrolled up off the screen. Composing herself, she typed anew.

  Last night’s attack proves one thing: we are still so weak. After all the government’s efforts to purify the nation, we are still so weak. We should have been ready for the Enemy. But all that doesn’t matter anymore. This is the situation, and we’re all just going to have to deal. For now, I’ve just got to sit back in this stupid car and try to relax. Sure, I don’t know who I’m supposed to report to anymore, or even what I’ll be doing…

  She hit return again.

  This isn’t productive at all, is it? Why do I even keep a diary?

  Light peeked into the limo and soon the Tunnel was behind them. Eve tossed the tablet into the seat next to her and gazed at the tan blur outside. It was spotted here and there by brown tumbleweed and dull green cacti.

  “You know, I really hate the desert,” she told the driver.

  He grunted.

  “This is why I never leave the Capital,” she continued, undeterred. “How can one side of a mountain be so much greener than the other?”

  The driver pulled his cap up by the brim to scratch a spot on his forehead, and tugged it back down. “I think because the other side has an ocean,” he said finally. “It’s a geological phenom–”

  “That was rhetorical,” Eve sneered. “But your answer brings up another point. Why did we have to abandon the ocean for this dry shit? Don’t answer that.”

  The driver took a sip from his bottled water instead. Eve felt sick. They must have waited for hours in traffic trying to get past the Guard’s blockade. She wanted to get out and stretch–have a jog maybe, followed by a hot bubble bath.

  She shivered. “Can you turn down the A/C, please?”

  Everything felt wrong without Jon. She’d managed without him–barely–during his last mission. She had his ring, so she never doubted for a second he’d come back to her. But now he was calling himself by a different name, and wanted nothing to do with her.

  Again she stared at the handheld screen. “This is shit,” she whimpered. Then, to the driver, “I thought I told you to turn down the A/C.”

  “It’s off, sir.”

  The diamond on her finger sparkled. Suddenly she was hyperventilating.

  The driver half-turned in concern. “Is everything all right?”

  “I–I need some air,” she choked. Then, screaming, “Please! Just let me out of this goddamned car!”

  The limo stopped abruptly on the side of the road. Eve tore open the door and pushed her way into the desert. At last she crumpled over and vomited into the desert sand.

  His eyes swept the café like a security camera, pausing occa-sionally on tables with ladies and empty seats. Agent Eve Parker watched him carefully. When she felt certain that he was her contact, she called out over the caffeine-enhanced chatter. “Jonathan Wyle!”

  The tall man smiled and strolled toward her table. Everything about Wyle exuded youthful energy, from his dark brown side-burns to his clothing, which looked like something between business and business-casual. He was much more dashing than his profile let on, thought Eve, tucking her golden hair behind one ear.

  “Call me Jon,” he said with a steady gaze into her eyes. “I take it you’re Eve?”

  “Right-o.” She glanced down at her drink and was surprised to hear herself stammer, “I bought a cup already–just two minutes ago–if you want to get some, I’ll–”

  “No worries, I’m okay,” replied Jon, dropping into the wooden chair across from her. “So have you found the hidden camera in here yet?”

  “Excuse me?”

  He grinned. “A little game I like to play when I come to a new place. The Guard must be monitoring a popular coffee-house like this, right?”

  “Oh, definitely.” Eve laughed. She looked up and scanned the ceiling. “My guess,” she said, pointing past him, “is that smoke detector over there by the window.”

  Jon looked over his shoulder. “Maybe.”

  “No, it has to be. There’s another fire alarm by the coffee machines. The Guard can’t possibly need two, and anyway, the battery light isn’t even blinking.”

  Jon clapped. “Impressive…So how long have you been an Elite, anyway?”

  “Just started,” she said. Then, reconsidering, “Well I guess it’s been a little more than a year.”

  “Me too–funny how fast it’s gone, huh? The only thing that makes me feel like less of a newbie is all the actual newbies.”

  “Is that so?”

  He leaned forward and explained. “I was introduced to this kid the other day–just started training. He asked me if I’d ever shot anyone.”

  “Oh no, that’s precious,” Eve cackled, eyes flashing into his. “So have you?”

  “I–I mean…”

  “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” She downed the rest of her coffee, slammed it on the table, and got to the point. “I asked you to meet me because I think one of my Watched has been talking to one of yours. Joanna Phelps is one of your targets, right?”

  Jon leaned back into his chair and grinned. “You mean Shaan is on the Watched list, too?”

  Eve smiled back. “He’s one of mine.”

  “And you think they’re conspiring?”

  “Well, they’ve been meeting–”

  “–like every other day!” Jon finished for her. “What do you propose we do about it?”

  “Well,” she said. “I guess we could start with the facts. First thing’s first–I intercepted a text message today from Shaan. Maybe you saw it, too?”

  “Luna Coast,” he recited. “8 p.m. Come alone.”

  “That’s the one.”

  “What do you think it is? Information exchange?”

  “Might be more serious than that,” she said. “My guy Shaan is into explosives.”

  He leaned forward and whispered, “That’s why he’s on the List?”

  “A couple years ago, he built a cherry bomb and blew up a mailbox.”

  Jon’s eyes widened. “And they let him live?”

  She shrugged. “No one got hurt. He said it was a test gone awry, and no one could prove otherwise. Also, he works on special effects for movies, and it was his mailbox that he destroyed.”

  He laughed. “Perfect.”

  “All that aside,” said Eve with a wave of her coffee mug, “I’ve been building a case on him for the past six months. Don’t have enough to prove it yet, but I think he’s connected to the Underground. Radical group like that could use a good engineer.”

  “Interesting,” Jon mused, “though I’m not sure how that fits with Joanna’s story. She’s just a reporter–wrote an editorial on the National News blog a little while back that was a little controversial.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Um, I haven’t read it, actually,” he said, clearing his throat. “The Guard caught it before it went to press, and I’m not aware of any copies floating around. I started watching her a few days later.” He swatted the air and continued. “But that’s beside the point. Sounds to me like we need to get a bit more information on these people. I was planning to head to the Luna Coast tonight and check up on Joanna anyway. You wanna come along? Eve?”

  She lifted her eyes quickly from Jon’s biceps. “Yes! Sure.”

  From the Elites’ perch atop the lighthouse, Eve watched the last embers of sun sink slowly into the sea. They had a 360-degree view of the precipitous Luna Coast. A sculpture garden stretched several hundred feet from the edge of the cliff to a twisted highway. The marble statues cast long shadows of knights and horses on the grassy field.

  “You know, I don’t think I’ve seen a real sunset since I was a little girl,” Eve remarked. “Amazing how you can stare right into it–”

  “–without going blind?” Jon finished. “Yeah, we Elite Guard don’t really get out much, do we?”

  As they laughed, a car came up the highwa
y from the direction of the city and pulled into an empty parking lot. Jon lifted his binoculars. “Looks like Joanna.”

  The target stepped out wearing a blue denim jacket and tall black boots. She retrieved a cigarette from her jacket pocket and lit it. Holding the fag tightly in her mouth, Joanna bent into her car’s side mirror and teased her silvery hair with both hands.

  Eve glanced at her watch. “Just like a man to be late,” she said. Jon gave her a look like he had something to say, but that was the end of it.

  A bumblebee buzz developed slowly into the roar of a lion, and a biker appeared on the horizon. “That’s Shaan,” said Eve.

  “He’s a motorcycle man, huh?” commented Jon. “Well, you’ve got an easy job.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever–I could track a man driving a sedan with tinted windows.”

  “Touchy.”

  “I think you mean ‘touché.’”

  “What, you mean that was supposed to be a comeback?”

  Eve stuck out her tongue. Then she swiveled and focused her binoculars upon Shaan, who was busy dusting off his leather jacket and tight jeans. He pulled off his helmet, revealing dark brown skin and wavy black hair.

  “He’s slick,” Jon remarked.

  “Your type?” she replied.

  “No, I’m allergic to Y chromosomes, unfortunately.”

  Chuckling, Eve donned a pair of headphones and switched on the audio feed. After some static and a few high-frequency squeals, the scene below amplified into full stereo.

  “Sound okay?” asked Jon, slipping on a pair of his own.

  “Loud and clear. Let’s find out what they’re up to.”

  Joanna looked shakily at her feet as Shaan approached.

  “Hey, Jo,” said Shaan, reaching into his coat. “Got some-thing for you.”

  “Oh no,” she replied with a tremor.

  Eve fiddled with the visual focus. “We getting this?”

  Jon pressed his headphones tighter against his ears. “Yeah, camera is rolling and tape is recording.”

  Shaan pulled out a white and gold cardboard package. Gasp-ing, Joanna snapped it out of his hands. With great exuberance she popped the box open.

  Eve’s binoculars fell limply to her chest. “Oh no,” she groaned. “It can’t be.”