Everything Under The Sun

Evelyn sighed.

“Atticus, you told me to lie if that’s what I had to do. And that’s what I did.” She looked down at Thais briefly. “I told you she couldn’t be broken—I told you.” She pushed the words through her teeth, throwing the blame back on me where we both knew it belonged.

Then she turned her back.

“I told her that her sister was dead,” Evelyn admitted in a soft, distant voice full of regret.

I bent down in front of Thais, but she wouldn’t look at me. She was lost; she knew only the body in her arms. Back and forth she rocked, combing her fingers through her sister’s wet hair; she pressed her shuddering lips to her forehead. “Sosie, I’m so sorry…I’m so sorry,” she whispered against her cheek. And the sight of them brought back dark memories I had for so long been trying to bury.

I stood and turned my attention to Evelyn.

“I want only Peter Whitman and Mr. Wright from inventory to bury the girl,” I said in a quiet voice so Thais might not hear. I knew Peter would see to it that she’d be given a proper burial.

Evelyn, tearless but not guiltless, nodded her acknowledgment of my orders.

I looked down at Thais once more, my soul filling up with a darkness I’d only felt one time before, when I found my mother and two sisters dead, and on the brink of death. But it wasn’t for Sosie I felt these feelings—she was already dead, and such feelings wouldn’t do her any good, just as they didn’t for my family—but they were for Thais, the one whose pain, I knew, would never go away. It’s only the living who suffer.

“What are you going to do, Atticus?” Evelyn asked.

“Whatever I have to.”

I scooped Thais into my arms and carried her out of the room, down the stairs and out of the building. Dozens of eyes were at my back as I made my way through the crowd. Thais’ light weight wasn’t heavy in my arms, but everything else was: the weight of my heart, my soul.

What can I do? How can I help this girl out of the city without getting her and myself killed? Does she even care anymore?

Do I?

Yes. I do.





20


ATTICUS





I carried Thais up eight flights of stairs and into my room where I laid her on my bed. She lay in a comatose state; her eyes were open, but it seemed she never blinked.

With a heavy sigh, I slid my back against the wall and sat on the floor across the short distance. I drew my legs up, resting my elbows on my knees, and pressed my head to the wall. I watched Thais for a long time, helpless to do anything about right now, but was no longer conflicted about what I would do tomorrow. I will help get her out of this goddamned city if it’s the last thing I ever do.

But I still didn’t know how. I had a plan, but I doubted it would work.

Earlier in the day, I had gone to speak with Overlord Wolf, just as I’d told Marion and the rest of the men that I’d do:




“What are you proposing, Hunt?” Wolf had asked from his room high at the top of Lexington’s tallest building. “If you tell me you want to give the women as much freedom as the soldiers, then you should be prepared to also give them guns and send them into battle as the soldiers do.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad idea, sir,” I had said. “Many of the women are strong, they can fight and hold their own, if given the chance to prove it.”

Wolf smiled as if he thought I was a young fool.

He turned his back on me and looked out the tall glass window, his hands clasped on his backside.

“And what will we do when the women start dying off in these battles to seize the cities?” Wolf pointed out. “My men will be at war with each other over what’s left of the women—we need them here, on the homestead, safe and out of the hands of outsiders and the spray of bullets.” Wolf turned to see me standing on the other side of the long table littered by maps and paper and candles. “Who will bear our future generation, Hunt, if not the women we care for?”

“Yes, I understand that, sir, and I agree”—I remained standing in a respectful military fashion, my back straight, chin raised, and my hands folded down in front of me—“but, with all due respect, sir, I believe we would benefit more from their cooperation and willingness to bear our children, than to continue forcing them, and rejecting them the right to make their own decisions.” I didn’t feel as confident about the suggestion as I did when going over it in my head on the way here.

Wolf turned from the window and walked slowly down the length of the table; he stopped and watched me for a moment, sizing me up, contemplating. Wolf was a brooding, merciless man. I knew that I could easily say the wrong thing without realizing and Wolf would put a bullet in my head or a knife in my neck. But I didn’t fear him, and I only pretended to respect him.

It was several seconds before Wolf finally responded.

“I think you’re a young soldier with big dreams, Atticus Hunt”—he traced the tip of his index finger across the grain in the table in front of him—“I think your temporary position as Overseer has given you a big head, opened your mind to ambitious possibilities of leadership. But I’m here to tell you, my friend, this plan of equality among men and women cannot and will not succeed. When the world went to shit, things changed.” He raised both arms out at his sides, donning a giant toothy smile, and said with a cheery, booming voice, “We were thrown back in time, Hunt! Sent back to the motherfucking 1800’s!” He smiled. “And I’m loving the shit out of it.”

He dropped his arms back at his sides.

I stood solidly, regarding Wolf with an even expression covering one of anger and revulsion that seethed beneath the surface. I wanted to kill him; the only thing stopping me from it was the all-out manhunt it would create—Thais wouldn’t see the light of morning before they found us.

“We’re only doing what we’ve been forced to do,” Wolf went on, the smile slipping from his face. “None of us asked for this life, but it’s the fucking hand we were dealt, and it’s the fucking hand we all have to play.”

That was the end of that.

I nodded respectfully.

“I understand, sir.” I turned on my heels and started for the door.

“Hunt,” Wolf called out.

I turned again, and waited.

“Despite your idiotic ideas,” he went on, “I believe you will make a good Overseer. You have what it takes. You aren’t afraid of shit, and that, my friend, is a much-needed quality not only in an Overseer position, but in this goddamned life.”

“Thank you, sir.” I was anything but appreciative.

“But a word of advice,” Wolf said at last. “You probably shouldn’t say anything else about this equality bullshit to the men, or you’re gonna get yourself shanked in an alley somewhere.” His smile was as slippery as his warning.

“Understood, sir.”

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