I Am Not Junco Omnibus: Books Four - Six (96 page)

“To use and abuse again and again?” I shake my head and whisper, “Never.” I pause for a moment to see if they will counter, and when they don’t I know she’s never been anything but a pawn. “The deals are over. Choose.”

Both men disappear and then Crage returns with Amelia in his arms. I take her and stare at my Uncle as I back away from him. “If she’s damaged—”

“If you let them cross—”

“Then we understand each other. As long as she lives, I’ll keep them away.”

Chapter Forty-Four—JUNCO

Halo Virtual

I wake up in my room at the 039. I love this bed. It’s awesome. The feather blanket is so soft and the pillows are wonderful. I’m not sure I’ve ever had such nice bedding in my life. Not even at home, and we were not poor by any means.

A stray thought enters my mind. Is it fucked up to have feathers in your comforter if your friends have wings?

My hand darts to my shoulder at this thought. No bumps. Hmmm. That’s weird.

Actually…

I open my eyes. How the hell did I get to my Amelia room? I get out of bed, expecting to feel… terrible. Wasn’t I just dissipated? I look out my window but there’s no traffic going by. I pad over to the window seat and look out. No fliers anywhere. No Kadian in the window across the boulevard either.

Maybe it’s a holiday?

I laugh at that.

Yeah, it’s a holiday. More likely, Junco, you’re in a virtual.

But at least it’s not the fucking dock.

A roar of voices bellows out from the living area and my heart swells. I run to the door, throw it open and stop dead when I see who’s in the apartment with me.

“Braun!” I run to him and he holds his cigar high in the air as I hug his chest. I look up—man, he is massive. So much bigger than I remember. “What are we doing here?”

“I told you, Snowbird. I got this.” Isten comes out from the kitchen with a couple of beers and Mish is not far behind with a plate of food.

“We’re getting ready to start a game, Juncs. You in?” Braun asks.

“Is this real?” I ask, looking around wildly. “Am I alive?”

“Uh, are
we
alive?”

I shake my head and sigh. “No. So I died?”

Braun pushes me to take a seat at the poker table and hands me a cigar. I take the little gray box, tap out the stogie, and light it on the striker. “We sorta gave up our positions, Juncs. So we could stay here with you.”

“But everyone said once you cross the Bridge you can’t come back.”

“We’re not back,” Isten says as he takes his seat between me and Mish.

“Yeah, we’re still dead,” Mish says. “We’re drifting souls, like all the other poor saps who never made Caleb’s cut. But we figure it’s better to drift here than be stuck over there with those assholes. Especially after what Tier and Lucan did.”

“Tier.” I whisper it. But I’m not ready to know that yet. I don’t want to know that yet. Because he’s gone and that will just make me…

“They fucked them over
good
, Junco,” Braun bellows. And then he takes his cigar out of his mouth and squints his eyes at me. “It was my plan that started it all. I told you.” He looks over at Mish and Isten and points his cigar at them. “I
told
you assholes I was smart. Didn’t I? Didn’t I?”

Isten and Mish grumble some affirmations as Braun deals the first hand. “OK, Juncs. I’m gonna forget about all those rills you owe me from way back when, because I’m a nice fucking guy. But I’m just gonna warn you, I’ve played a lot of poker since I died, and I have a whole new bag of cheating dirty tricks.”

I smile as Isten passes me a beer. “Well, even if I was dead, I’m OK with it.” I laugh. “Cigars, beer, cards, and three of my 039 teammates. This is heaven.”

I port to the Fledge building for like the millionth time. I walk to the door, palm my hand, and… get nothing. It never opens.

Why? I mean, I get
why
. They, whoever they are, don’t want me in here, obviously. But why? Because I really, really want to go inside Fledge.

It’s so weird to not have a home, and yet I feel at home in so many strange places. Like the 039. How long did I live there? A few days? A week maybe? Yet it feels like home. That room feels like my room because that’s where I woke up after Subjack nuked Peak City and Council 3 and Tier pleaded guilty to treason when he refused to kill me on Earth.

And even though Fledge was where I committed one of the most horrific acts in the history of my entire existence, it feels like home. Because this is where I learned to fly.

I have to stop and cry a little at this thought. Because I felt so powerful back then. Even though these aliens controlled everything about me, even though they made me fight and kill kids in these fights to prove myself, I felt so in control when I was here. I felt… invincible.

Fledge is where I met Kush. Where I gathered my team, Tier’s Fledge team. Tessen, Merkar, Pike, Wyrd, those other guys whose names I still don’t even fucking know. And up in that church is where Annun became my choice.

We sorta changed history.

Shifted fate.

I walk over to the stone bench I used to sit on all time and pull out a cigar. I smoke a lot these days. I blame it on Braun, he’s forever lighting up. This bench is where Lucan and I became friends. Where he told me there was nothing I could do to save Tier.

And he was right, wasn’t he?

I was wrong, but I didn’t know it back then because my sight was short and Lucan’s sight was far. Where I saw the end of the Deliverance fight, Lucan saw the end of the world. He never did lie to me, that’s true. He said I’d be broken in the end. He said I’d never be able to save Tier.

And he was right on both counts.

I feel pretty sane these days, but that’s because this isn’t real. It’s a virtual. I’m locked away in something… some computer program, or cloud, or hell, who the fuck knows. Maybe I’m living this inside my own head. Maybe Isten and Braun and Mish aren’t real at all. Maybe I’m so fucking insane I’ll never find my way back.

But I don’t feel insane. I think it’s because I look like the old me. I was a little stunned when I looked in the mirror that first day. My hair is the old ugly brown. My eyes the old ugly hazel. My fingers are missing on my left hand. I smile at this. Who would’ve ever thought that missing two fingers would make me feel normal.

But it does.

All my old scars are back. That ugly gash on my neck where Matthew shot me on the sniper range. The SEAR knife gash down the middle of my stomach where I sliced myself in half to save Tier. The long scar down my cheek where that clone Aren sliced open my jaw when he took my SEAR knife back on Earth. Even that nasty cut I got from wrecking the Goat out in the Stag that first night I met Tier is back.

These things make me feel… whole.

Everything about that Archer body was just wrong. It was too perfect, too pretty, too… not me.

But this body. This fucking body knows what’s up. This body holds all the good history—scars and all. Because it’s just like I told Tier that night on the red rock before he brought me here to morph. Every moment counts. You can’t trade in a single one.

I am the sum of my moments.

And I think I’m OK with that.

Isten ports in next to me. “What’s up, Juncs?”

I shrug. “I want to go inside, Isten. I need to go inside.”

He stares at me for a few seconds. Not mad, like I would’ve expected. He knows why I want to go inside and I know he’s probably against it. But he looks thoughtful, not angry. “Want me to come with you?”

“Yes,” I say, a little bit stunned. “But it won’t let me in.”

“Mmmm. Well, I can help you out, I guess. I have all-access privileges. I’m like God here, Junco.”

I laugh. “You have no minions, Isten, that’s not as cool as it sounds.”

He tilts his head. “Yeah, maybe I need some minions. Anyway, come on.” He grabs my hand and pulls. I stuff my cigar in a standing ashtray as I pass, then follow him over to the doors.

I point to the grass over to the left of the door. “Lucan smacked me once, Isten. Right there. I fell over so hard.” I stop and laugh. “Man, that really hurt. He hit me right across the cheek.”

“I’m pretty sure you deserved it, Junco. Lucan called a meeting that day, told us everything. Asked us if we ever got the urge to knock you upside the head.” Isten palms his hand on the biometrics and the doors whoosh open. Then he looks down at me and smiles. “We could all relate to his frustration. In fact,” he says as we walk up the stairs to level three, “we all got drunk that night and traded Junco stories.” He ruffles my hair like I’m some small child. “But we all decided in the end, you were worth the trouble, Juncs.”

We walk into the dorm room and it looks exactly the same. Like today is the day of Fight Seven. I look around, half expecting Kush or Isec or Tess to be there. But they’re not. Because this is not real. Isten doesn’t even break his stride, just continues across the room until we walk into the mast. We stand in the middle and look up.

“It’s far,” I say.

“Yeah, ya wanna hop on, Junco? I’ll take you up.”

I just stare at him. “You’re gonna take me up? Why? You hate the church.”

“I don’t really hate it, Junco. I hate what it meant to you, that’s all.” He sighs long and loud, like he’s giving up. “This was my secret. Lucan parceled them out to each of us, and this, Juncs, was mine. I was told the history of the Fallen Archer since—fuck, for as long as I can remember. I just wasn’t supposed to share it with you. Or anyone, for that matter.”

“Will you share it today?”

“I don’t think I’ll need to,” he says softly. “Hop on, Snowbird. I’ll be your wings today.”

I enjoy the ride up. Isten doesn’t hurry either, like he knows I’m looking at all the relief art that’s molded into the side of the mast. It’s mostly gargoyles and shit like that. Gothic, I think they call it on Earth. Some angels, of course, and some men. I think it tells a story, actually. But I don’t have enough time to decipher it. We fly slow, but not slow enough for that.

Isten lands on the Level Six terrace like a pro and I slide down his back. The doors are still imposing, and when I enter the vestibule, the presumably important winged angel statue is still standing guard. Isten opens the second door and the sweet smell of the Fledge church permeates my nose. I’m off balance for a moment and then…

I’m standing on a dusty riverbank in the searing desert heat. I see Lucan, but he looks like that man version I saw him turn into before he was all demonized for being on Earth. His wings are jet black and they are magnificent, even tucked up against his back. His hair is not blond, but not brown either. In between. And his eyes are the color of the sea again.

I smile.

He’s with a woman and they walk along the river. He looks happy. I walk with them and time starts to pass quickly. I watch them go to bed in a large room with a stone floor and a view of a town center outside. There are preparations for some kind of celebration all during the night.

And then that Angel comes and takes the woman away.

Lucan wakes, but it’s too late.

I watch, helpless, like Lucan, as his wings are cut off and the membranous bat wings sprout to take the place of the beautiful feathered ones. He is strung up on the cross. His woman is next to him. That Angel is yelling at them, screaming out into the crowd of people about something… something bad. And then Lucan’s amputated wings are sewn onto the woman’s back as she wails in pain.

My fingers go to my back but there are no bumps.

I was never meant to have wings.

That’s what Inanna said. Even Sera hinted at it.

“But sometimes, Snowbird,” Isten says, standing next to me in the dream, “you can’t escape your fate.”

We watch as the Angel cuts off the woman’s head and it rolls along the ground. “That’s me, isn’t it?” I look up to Isten and he’s nodding. “I’m the Fallen Archer?”

“She had a soul, and you are that soul.”

“I was Lucan’s punishment?”

“How perfect would it have been to have the one woman he loved—before
our
Amelia, of course—be the only one who could kill him and break his punishment cycle?”