Hope of the Future Read online

  Darrok faded into the background. The world rose against the restraints of him and his men to where they remained in charge, but many of the zones made sure they too, had someone in charge. The world crumbled further into ruin. Nobody had seen a child in a long time.

  Jake and Hope left Darrok’s zone and made their way further and further away, deeper and deeper into the darkness of the world. They traveled together until his final days. He sensed her need to keep on the move and to stay hidden, never once prodding into Hope’s past. Jake took on the role of a father and Hope welcomed him in with open arms.

  Hope did everything possible to adopt the Freebird style. Mannerisms and vocal patterns to where nobody ever assumed different. There were many times that even she forgot she was anything but a Freebird.

  The few female Freebirds she met along the way had long hair, so once Hope’s hair grew back, she fit in well. Hope took less care with her hygiene which allowed her to merge with the Freebirds. Her skin didn’t glow as much, she looked imperfect and people who didn’t know her, avoided her, just as they did with any other Freebird.

  Everything worked out well for her.

  But the entrance of Gideon and the loss of Jake was the beginning of the end for her.

  SEVEN

  CAYLA STUDIED HER OLD friend. “It’s been a long time, Ronin.”

  Ronin rubbed his wrists where the restraints had been. He glared up at Cayla from the chair, then took in the surroundings. They were located in an old farmhouse kitchen. The sun shone from outside, illuminating the room in a soft yellow.

  If Cayla hadn’t kidnapped him and brought him to this place against his will, Ronin may have considered it homey. As it were, the entire place held a sinister appearance.

  As with most things in 2148, the walls showed their age. The wallpaper was crumbling, the table next to him had cracked in many places, the white top had chipped away. Corners of the room that hadn’t seen a maid in a century held cobwebs who had taken up residence. The place could use a scrub down and a few coats of fresh paint. It would take a little elbow grease, but this place had promise.

  Why would Cayla bring him here? The silence around them said they were in the middle of nowhere. He hadn’t seen a farmhouse like this one in many years so why the secrecy? Something felt off in more ways than one.

  Ronin glared up at Cayla. “Restraints? Kidnapping?”

  “I apologize for that,” she said with sincerity. “We needed to make sure no one followed you. We didn’t have time to talk. If you want to leave tonight, I understand. The group and I won’t be staying. For now, that’s all I can say. I can’t afford for anyone to know where we are. Or where we’re going. I can’t take the chance.”

  “What the hell are you going on about?” Ronin asked, shoving the chair back as he stood. He strode over to the window and examined the yard beyond, stretching his arms, then his back. Nothing remained out there now, save for the dry dead grass that once would’ve been green and lush. The flat land went on for miles. “Why all the secrecy? You know you can trust me.”

  Cayla sighed. “There’s no telling who to trust at this point. I don’t even know if I’m trustworthy enough.” Cayla paused before continuing. She weighed her words with care, choosing the best possible explanation to prevent giving too much away.

  “It hit me the other night. You may be the person we’ve been seeking. The one to help us. Who I can trust to protect a package that could be the most important thing on this planet. Please, tell me I’m not wrong.

  Without allowing him to cut in, she added, “This . . . package, Ronin. Darrok has upped his game in recent years to get ahold of it. The Associates. Everyone. If left alone, Darrok—“ Her voice caught. “That can’t happen. I need your talents. You were once the most sought after guard, Hunter, information seeker. I need all of it, the best of what you offer.”

  Ronin leaned back against the counter, crossing one of his feet over the other. Shutters covered the windows behind Cayla, but someone was out there in the yard drifting back and forth on a swing. It was hard to see the individual, but he had a hunch, that out there was the “package” Cayla spoke of.

  He crossed his arms as his focus returned to Cayla. “You’re acting strange. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Cayla took in the kitchen with another drawn out sigh. That one was a resignation. The frustrated sigh that said she knew he would help . . . for now, as she hoped, but Cayla would rather him say it. Instead of him expecting her to just know. One of the many things she had always gotten onto him about, his lack of communication.

  She turned and placed her hands on the edge of the counter while studying the person in the yard. Cayla didn’t just watch the individual swing. She saw many other things going on in her mind: past, present, and future.

  Things that perked Ronin’s interest. He had known the woman across from him a long time and had never seen her like this. Part of why he would help for a little while he supposed. Cayla rarely asked for help. When she did, Hell may as well have frozen over. It was a big damn deal.

  Cayla said, “It’s been a pretty trying time. I gave my life to protect someone, and swore to her I would do everything in my power to keep her safe, but we’re stuck. You used to have many connections from the groups you were involved with. We could use your particular brand of help. Only you can keep her invisible, and keep her safe against the threats that have grown. It’s no longer something I can do alone, or her. I need you, Ronin. I need your help to protect this girl. A girl who I believe is our future.”

  Ronin shook his head. What aren’t you saying? You’re leaving something out. “This is ridiculous, Cayla. You sound insane. Why would you promise so much to someone?”

  Cayla moved across the kitchen to lean back against the counter next to him. “This girl. She is the hope of our future. I know it. We have to protect her until we can set her up in a place where she is safe. Safe, meaning a place that Darrok will never find her. He has upped his game, and so have many others who want her head on a stick. The best Hunters in the world are after her.”

  Cayla paused for a long time. To the point where Ronin didn’t think she would say another word. When she did finish, Ronin didn’t believe his ears, “She can bear healthy children.”

  Ronin’s head reeled toward Cayla. “Children, Cayla?” he barked, which almost sounded like a laugh. He was uninterested in such craziness. “That isn’t possible. No woman possesses that ability anymore. Even among Freebirds. Not even they’ve had a child in what? Over 20 years. It’s not possible. Whoever told you that is lying.” Seeing the look on her face, he caught on and added, “That girl is lying to you so you’ll feel sympathy.”

  Cayla gave him a solemn shake of her head. It hurt her that he didn’t believe her. Going back to where she had been, she faced the closed shutters. “No, Ronin,” she spoke to the backyard. “She can have children. Have faith. It’s not whether this one can or can’t. She can. Don’t doubt it. Trust me.”

  “I’d need proof. I can’t believe such stupidity.”

  “Ronin—”

  “Anyone can say they can have children. Hell, I could. You can’t expect me to have confidence in a random woman’s word.” He jabbed a hand toward the back door. “Why would you give your life to protect someone who lies to you? Women can’t bear children anymore. Amaranthines can’t. You’re grasping at straws.”

  Ronin pitied his old friend. He understood the need for women to believe in the possibility of having children, but it wasn’t possible. There hadn’t been a child walking the streets in over twenty years, at least.

  Cayla turned and glared at him. For a moment Ronin was positive she would scream at him. Instead she moved over to the back door, waiting for him to follow. After a few moments, Ronin figured he may as well get it over with. Then he could leave this place and not look back. He changed his mind about helping.

  Children. Right.

  Ronin didn’t know what to expect as he followed Cayla into
the yard, or how to break the news to his old friend so she understood. Women couldn’t have children. Facing the truth sooner rather than later would be best. He was going to have to put this woman leading Cayla on, in her place. Selfish.

  The rest of the land that surrounded the old farmhouse was as dead as the grass nearby. Every step stirred the dirt under their feet to curl out in small clouds.

  A woman drifted back and forth on a swing as he thought. The swing was hung from the largest branch left on an almost dead tree. The branch above the woman’s head held the only green leaves left anywhere, which was surrounded by a small patch of moss that formed along the bark.

  A single ray of rare sunshine shone down along the branch, and spread over the woman, illuminating her. She floated in a world all by herself. The first and last of her kind—Ronin shook his head. Weird idea.

  This was the last place on this earth she wanted to find herself. Her head faced the ground, and her focus remained on her feet with each push. Dark purple hair fell around her face in a curtain that kept Ronin from seeing her too well. Cascading down in waves, rippling with each move she made, her hair was so dark it appeared black on first glance, but when the sun caught it, the color changed.

  A soft breeze swept over the ground, then blew the hair away from her face. Her beauty took Ronin aback. Time froze and so did he for an instant before he recovered. She appeared so young. The wind exposed skin as smooth and radiant as silk. Far too perfect for any woman he’d seen in years. She possessed a gentle beauty that he hadn’t seen before on a human, Freebird, or Amaranthine. Purity at its finest.

  Who was she?

  “Hope.” Hope raised her head at Cayla’s whisper.

  An extended scar lined the entire width of her neck, right under her chin. The scar was so light that on first glance Ronin thought it was just a crease. Someone had cut her throat, hoping the injury would kill her. Hope shouldn’t be alive if that was the case.

  Why would someone want to kill her? And why would someone like that lie about being able to have children? What would she gain from it? Questions swirled through him, and needed answers.

  It didn’t seem like it was because Hope sought attention. Seemed to him she didn’t want to be here. It was written all over her. The way Hope stiffened and tightened her grip on the rope that held the swing.

  When they first left the farm house, it seemed like she existed in a fantasy world of nothing but love and warmth. Now, as they drew closer he could swear an invisible wall slammed into place. Icy cold, filled with hatred, and dangerous to cross, anything but what his first thoughts were.

  Cayla went straight to explaining who Ronin was as if worried Hope would flee or attack. Never once did the girl acknowledge Ronin’s presence. Not even when Cayla and he stopped next to her. Ronin was stuck staring at the side of Hope’s face. He kept his distance, allowing Cayla to take the lead. It was best the girl felt comfortable with him no matter who she was.

  “I promise you, Hope. You’ve trusted me this far. Trust that I wouldn’t have brought someone here to help us if you couldn’t trust him. You don’t even have to trust Ronin, keep trusting me.”

  When Hope cast a quick glance his way, Ronin’s heart did an about-face. It was only long enough for him to catch a hint of her eyes turning his way, but he swore he saw those eyes of hers glint violet.

  Pondering her options, Hope wondered whether she should still trust Cayla. She had been through too damn much at this point. The memories drifted in and out with each sway of the swing. Everyone she put her faith in was dead, or had destroyed her trust. The world betrayed her one too many times. It took many arguments between Cayla and her, for Hope to agree to meeting with this man.

  Hope flicked the barest of looks toward Ronin as she cooled her temper. She glared at Cayla. “So I’ve met him.”

  Beside her, Ronin cut her off, “Considering your lack of manners, I’d say you haven’t. Not until you’ve said, ‘nice to meet you,’ and took the time to fully acknowledge me.”

  What? Hope’s attention punched Ronin in the face. This man, Ronin, who she should trust, according to Cayla. Cayla, who didn’t understand that Hope could take care of herself.

  Sure, she’d lost her powers after she lost Gideon, but she still could fight. Sort of. She’d made it this long, hadn’t she? Cayla, who believed her too vulnerable to be alone. But wouldn’t she always end up that way?

  Hope couldn’t believe someone would have the gall to say she had no manners, and more that, Ronin assumed she cared for his opinion. Her heart picked up pace, her body grew moist, and her grip tightened further on the rope.

  Dissecting him while he stood there and awaited her response, she wondered why Ronin was so important that Cayla said he was the only individual who could help. Out of everyone on this planet. Cayla thought this man of all people would stand between her and Darrok. Did she have to remain hidden from Darrok’s grip? Sure. Did she believe this guy could protect and save her from Darrok? Ha. No. He seemed rather weak in the grand scheme of things.

  Dark scraggly hair cut short, maybe with a razor she mused. Couldn’t even handle that much. His hair held no proper style. The man didn’t even bother to shave with said razor. Appalling. A slight stubble covered his jaw. Liquid black eyes glared at her, making them appear cold, which further irritated her. He wanted her to pay attention to him and now that she did, he was annoyed?

  Ronin held the air of a man who had been through many battles, but there was something else. The air of a man who had been in an organized unit, more than likely in charge of said unit. Was he a part of Darrok’s crowd?

  No. He held no symbols of Darrok’s Amaranthine Soldiers, or Amaranthine Guards, on his wrists or hands. Her analysis struck his face. The muscle in his neck pulsed and quickened under her gaze. He wanted to be anywhere but here. That makes two of us.

  His lips were set in a tight line. She tilted her head to listen to his heartbeat. His breathing hitched. He found her attractive. That was nothing new.

  He was Amaranthine, not Freebird, despite looking older than most Amaranthine’s did.

  This one looked like a man would in his late thirties, early forties. The unusual strength echoed out through a cocky confidence in Ronin’s gaze. Why had Darrok not had Ronin as a personal guard? How had he escaped those confines? Hmm. Maybe he wasn’t that weak. She’d give him that much. Wasn’t so easy to stay hidden from Darrok.

  “I acknowledged your presence.” She faced Cayla and added to Ronin, “I don’t have to acknowledge you.” Speaking to Cayla now, she said, “I did what you asked.” Hope got up before Cayla stopped her and left them for shelter of the house. She didn’t like the way she felt around this man. Too familiar.

  Hope caught Ronin’s reflection in the farmhouse window. He stood behind her with a look of disgust. No doubt believed himself older than her, which meant above her. She appeared young, but there was a fair chance, he wasn’t much older, if he was. Try and fight her and he would see how far above her he was. She refused to trust him, nor would she travel with a man like that. Probably didn’t like her attitude.

  Leave if you know what’s good for you.

  Behind her, Cayla called out, “Hope, don’t do this. We want him on our side. Would you give him a chance? Hope!”

  She entered the house as Ronin said, “I don’t see why you brought me here, Cayla. That girl wants no one’s help.”

  EIGHT

  LATER THAT NIGHT, HOPE snuck down the steps to the backdoor with footfalls light as air. A mouse couldn’t have left quieter. Everyone was fast asleep at this hour. She tightened her grip on her backpack to make sure it didn’t slide off and thwap the floor, altering everyone to her leaving. The nightly patrol had progressed to the front of the house so she made her move.

  She didn’t know where she would go. Hope’s plan was to run as fast and as far away as possible. She didn’t need Ronin and Cayla’s help. It would be fine if she were on her own. Anyway, she was used to it.
She didn’t fully trust Cayla, but Hope didn’t want Cayla to get hurt. Let alone anyone else who dared to help her. They didn’t understand. Nobody did.

  When Hope reached the bottom of the stairs, she pressed her back against the wall and peered around the corner, into the kitchen. The moonlight lit up the room in a hazy silvery glow. Her eyes picked up the glow and filtered the bare light until the darkest corners illuminated. Nobody around. Perking her ears discovered no sounds from the other rooms. The doorways were empty. No breathing. No shuffling of clothes.

  Complete silence. Thank goodness.

  Hope rubbed her head. These days she paid a price for any small use of her abilities. The small things she somehow retained, anything larger and nada. She remained silent and inched over to the door. She slipped one hand around the lock, then cupped the other hand over the first, to prevent anyone from hearing the click when the latch turned.

  “So this is how you repay people who want to help you?” a deep voice whispered in the darkness. Hope started, gasped, dropped her bag, and spun around all in one motion. Instinctively her hand went to the blade forever tucked against her back.

  Ronin leaned against the doorway, wearing his long leather trench coat, standing there without a care in the world. As if he’d been there the whole time. Had he gone for a walk at this hour? How did he get back in without her hearing him, or anyone noticing? Amaranthine’s weren’t that good.

  Relaxing her grip from the blade, Hope spun and seized the bag from the floor, then shrugged the strap back over her shoulder. She went back to the lock. “You have no idea who I am,” she said. “I don’t want help. Let me go. It’s better for everyone. I’m better in their past. Always have been, always will be.”

  The girl’s voice broke on the last sentence, tearing through Ronin like a knife. A sense of deja vu swept through him. Since when did he care what happened to anyone? Why would that bother him so much?