The Zero Trilogy (Book 3): End of Day (13 page)

The broken handle of a mop lay strewn along the back wall. Elle ran for it. Grabbed it. The broken end was sharp, a splintered piece of wood. She flung it at the Slaver’s head. He dodged it. She moved to the side.

Metal
, she thought.
I need one more piece of metal!

She sprinted behind the shelving. She could hear his light footsteps on the other side of the racks. Her fingers closed around a sharp, metal yardstick on the ground.

Pipe in one hand. Yardstick in the other.

She raced through the door, braced herself. The Slaver tore out of the store, meeting Elle on the asphalt. Elle made an X with her arms, blocking one sword with each of her makeshift weapons. She looked into the Slaver’s eyes. She saw nothing human.

He drove her farther and farther backward. She blocked each cut of his swords, but every impact rocked her shoulders and ground her teeth together until she could taste blood. The sweat ran thick down her forehead and back, slipping into her mouth.

Despite everything, she remembered Cheng’s words from Bear Mountain:

“When your soul can find peace,” Cheng said, “your body will, too. You will be a better person, a better warrior, a better woman. Cleansing your mind is key to a peaceful soul.”

She took a deep breath and detached herself from the physical pain. She let her instincts guide her, and the world become a razor-sharp portrait of light and sound. She was fluid, and there was only the thumping of her heartbeat against her ribs, and the timing of her movements against the Slaver’s attacks. The pain and the blood and the sweat became nonexistent.

It was all about the fight. Only the fight.

She anticipated the Slaver’s moves, blocking each blow. She whirled around him,
making circles, a triumphant smile spreading across her face.

And then she heard something.

A dog, barking.

The mist of fine concentration dissolved, and she stumbled backward, startled. The sound was alien. It didn’t belong here. The Slaver, seeing her mistake, pushed forward and drove his elbow into her chest, pushing her onto the asphalt. Elle hit the ground. She screamed, but her arms were pinned to the ground.

The Slaver’s eyes glittered. Victory. He had won.

Elle struggled beneath him, furious. Why had she broken her concentration? She had been winning! And now the only sound was her rattled breathing as the Slaver’s knee pushed against her ribs. He drew his sword up into the air, suspended.

It was the death blow.

Elle stared at the sharp blade. He would bury it in the center of her forehead. The pain would last only an instant, and then she would be dead, and her body would bleed on the
asphalt and the Slaver would leave her here to rot…

Elle went numb, realizing that her death was at hand. She closed her eyes and prayed silently. The lethal blow never came. She was instead jerked sideways. The Slaver’s knee was gone, and he was screaming bloody murder.

Elle opened her eyes, dizzy, and stared at the gray sky. She turned her head sideways and saw the Slaver, on his knees, one sword on the ground, the other in his hand. A tangle of caramel fur and teeth growled rabidly. The animal lunged for the Slaver’s throat and sunk his fangs deep. The Slaver couldn’t even scream. His eyes widened and blood gushed from his neck. He dropped the sword and struggled against the dog, sputtering and choking, making horrible noises that only a dying man could make.

At last he went still and fell to the ground, but the dog did not release his grip until the Slaver’s head was on the asphalt, and his body had gone stiff. He took a few hesitant steps backward. Ruby-colored blood dripped from his jowls. He looked at the corpse for a long moment.

Elle sat up, staring.

The dog turned, and his tail bobbed slightly.

“Bravo?” Elle whispered.

Hearing his name, the dog’s eyes sparkled. He bounded across the distance and met the girl halfway.

Chapter Nine

Elle buried her face in Bravo’s warm, musty fur. She felt his heartbeat thundering beneath her fingertips and the swell of his lungs as he panted for breath. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pressed her forehead against the dog’s.

“Bravo,” she whispered. “You came back to me.”

She opened her eyes.

Of course I did
. He barked.
Always
.

She hugged him again. She felt joy. A sense of happiness that she had not known in…years, probably. It was as if she had come home after a long journey, like the broken pieces of her heart had been fired together.

Elle didn’t know how long she stayed there, on her knees, her arms around Bravo. It could have been seconds. It could have been hours. She didn’t care. Suddenly Bravo wriggled his head out of Elle’s grasp and barked once. Elle
turned around and gasped, tightening her fingers into fists.

Cheng.

He stood there. His fine black hair fluttered in the breeze. His face was still bruised. He carried two katanas on his back. His expression was stony.

Elle rose to her feet.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Cheng’s lips twitched.

“You seemed to be having some trouble with the Slaver,” he replied.

Silence.

“How did you escape?” Elle asked.

“There’s always a way,” he answered, “when your will is strong enough.”

Bravo’s tail was wagging. The Slaver lay dead on the asphalt.

“Did you kill Matthias?” Elle asked.

“Yes.” Cheng didn’t miss a beat. “And most of his men.”

Elle nodded.

And then, “Are you with Omega, Cheng? Tell me the truth.”

“No. Not anymore.” His eyes became hooded, sad.

Elle went on, “Who is your mother?”

“Omega is like a snake with multiple heads,” Cheng replied. “It’s been burrowing under the ground for years, for centuries. Every whisper of cult society or conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard, it all dates back to Omega. Many of the world’s elite is threaded together in this secret society – kings, queens, czars, presidents…” He sighed. “No war has ever been started and no leader has ever been killed without a supreme purpose behind it.”

Elle went cold inside.

“And your mother?” she prodded.

“An elite. Very wealthy. An Omega flower child.” He shrugged. “I was her only child – her prized possession. When I was fifteen, her birthday gift to me was the tattoo that you saw on the boat.”

“Do you love her?” she asked.

“No,” Cheng replied, instantly. “Why should I? She has no love in
her
.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. But Elle, I knew about the collapse. I knew it was going to happen
before
it happened.” He hung his head. “So I ran. And then the end came, and I’ve been surviving like everyone else, and my mother has searched the country trying to find me.”

Cheng gestured to the Slaver on the ground.

“This man,” he said. “His name is Claudius. He’s been tracking you since Slaver Territory. I know him.”

A stone dropped to the pit of Elle’s stomach.

She walked to the dead Slaver and pulled his facemask away. He had a young face. He was Asian, like Cheng.

“I know this man,” Elle said, realization dawning. “I almost killed him in Slaver Territory. I let him live.” She touched the scar on her cheek. “He gave me this.”

“He’s a spy for my mother,” Cheng explained. “One of many. You must have piqued his interest, so he pursued you. My guess is that he followed you all the way to Bear Mountain, where he found me, and then alerted Omega. Hence the destruction of the camp.”

Elle felt sick.

So she had been the one who had brought on the destruction of Bear Mountain? It was her fault? She had led a spy straight to their front door.

“It’s not your fault,” Cheng said, frowning. “It’s Omega. They’re everywhere. Like an infection. I would know.”

Elle narrowed her eyes.

“How do I know you’re not lying to me about everything?” she demanded. “How do I know you’re not using me?”

Cheng pointed to Bravo.

“I brought your dog back to you,” he said. “And I could have gone anywhere, Elle. Anywhere. But I came to find you. I had to know if you were still alive.”

Elle rolled her eyes.

“I’m not helpless.”

“I am well aware of that.” Cheng removed a katana from his back. Elle tensed, and Cheng held the blade flat against the palms of his hands. “Your sword,” he said.

Elle swallowed.

It glimmered like a jewel.

Elle walked forward and touched the handle.

Yes,
her
sword.

“You can trust me,” Cheng said. He handed her one of his leather straps and scabbards. Elle slung it around her shoulder and sheathed the katana.

“On one condition,” Elle replied.

“And what might that be?” Cheng asked.

“You tell me everything you know about Omega.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.” Elle held out her hand. Bravo darted to her side, and she rested her fingers right behind his ears. “Leave nothing out.”

Cheng slowly nodded.

“Agreed,” he told her.

Elle took one final glance at the dead Slaver on the ground.

“Let’s go,” she said.

They left. The girl, the dog, and the young samurai.

“Where do you come from?” Elle asked. “I want the truth.”

They walked quickly down the open, empty country roads, heading north. Bravo trotted happily alongside Elle. She watched the dog as they moved, wondering if she were dreaming, or if she had really been reunited with the one living thing in this universe that she loved.

“My mother was born Austrian,” Cheng replied. “Hers was a noble family – wealthy and powerful. Deeply connected to the secret society of Omega, a cult fascinated with the domination of the world and the destruction of our civilization. The foundational belief of Omega is that the world is, in essence, unclean, and it must
be destroyed so that a New Order can be brought in, and establish peace and prosperity.”

“Ah.” Elle looked at Cheng. “Is that why Omega kills anything that breathes?”

“In all honestly, yes.” Cheng looked ashamed. “It’s a belief that I was brought up to believe was right. That we were better than the rest of the world, and the poverty-stricken, the feeble, the disabled…everyone. They needed to be removed, so that we could achieve peace.”

“That’s a nice lie,” Elle commented.

“You only have to worship your own ego to buy into the mindset,” Cheng answered. “Unfortunately, my mother did. She is a brilliant woman, Elle. Very brilliant. But cruel and hateful and unforgiving. She had a love affair with a Chinese citizen – a commoner by her standards. Hence my existence. She had him killed, but she chose to give birth to me, intending to raise me as her so-called heir.”

“Is that why Matthias kept calling you a prince?” Elle pressed.

“He was mocking me.” Cheng glanced at Elle. “I was raised like royalty, though. Traveling
the world, trailing behind my mother to every secret meeting and clandestine negotiation. She dealt in arms manufacturing. My mother provided weapons to Omega troops, slowly filtering into the western countries and infiltrating. I was a child – I thought we were the good guys. I believed my mother was supplying troops with weapons so that they could fight evil.”

Elle’s chest constricted. She wanted to say something, but Cheng continued.

“My life was a blur of academia,” Cheng said. “I studied history, art, music, and linguistics. I learned the art of war, because my mother told me a war was coming. I learned to fight, to focus my mind. Like the samurai of Japan, and the ninjas of China. I blended my cultures and my skillsets. I became quite dangerous, and people feared me. My mother loved this. Fear was her weapon of choice – fear was what gave Omega their power, and would destroy the world.”

“Did you know the EMP was going to happen?” Elle asked.

“I knew.”

“And you didn’t think to warn anyone?”

“Who would have believed me, Elle?” Cheng looked sad. “How long have people been prophesying the end of the world? Centuries. Besides, I was one of them. But it was my mother’s flare for the dramatic that turned my head.” He held his hand up, as if imitating a theatrical bow. “She moved us to a home along the coast of California. A towering, luxurious mansion on the seashore. She told me that she wanted to watch the world burn firsthand. It was entertainment to her.” Cheng shook his head. “At this point, I had too much of a conscience to sit by and condone the invasion. I had read and studied and thought on the subject, and I came to the conclusion that the slaughter of millions of innocents would do nothing to bring peace – it would only bring hell.”

“Did your mother know how you felt?” Elle asked.

“No,” Cheng answered. “She would have killed me.”

“Just like that?”

“My mother never loved me, Elle. She loved the idea of me. And that’s all.”

Elle tossed a stick down the road. Bravo darted after it, retrieved it in his mouth, and trotted back to her, dropping the stick in her hands.

“Good boy,” she whispered.

I missed you, Elle
.

“I missed you, too.”

She threw the stick again, and Cheng went on.

“Several days before the EMP, I ran away. I took a car and drove as far away as I could.” He knit his eyebrows. “But Omega’s spies were everywhere. It was a difficult journey, but once the EMP hit, the focus was off me. The invasion began. I disappeared into the mountains and waited for the collapse to end. I watched society burn. I saw children killed. I saw their mothers and their fathers slaughtered. I saw it all, Elle. And I hated myself for believing my mother – for ever having believed that this was a holy purge. It was murder, and that was all.”

“What did you do then?” Elle wondered.

“I gave myself a new name,” he replied, smiling sadly. “And I vowed to help the people here as much as I could. I went from militia to militia, looking for a place to stay, where I could help people without becoming a high-profile figure. And yet…my mother still managed to find me.”

“Do you think she’s still looking for you?” Elle asked.