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The Porters, Page 3

Erin Gonzalez


  Chapter 5 – Getting closer to the enemy.

  “Blind belief in authority is the greatest enemy of truth.”

  -Albert Einstein

 

  “That’s stupid,” Ryne almost screamed.

  “Seriously,” Nicky touched his arm trying to comfort him.

  “If you didn’t know me,” I stepped towards the table. “You’d let me go. War is sacrifice and this knowledge could make or break us.”

  The room wasn’t very lit because we had turned the light on a bit when it became dark. Nicky and Ryne sat on the opposite side of a dark oak table lined with chairs on either side. All of them matching the table and the marble clicked under my boot as I paced my side of the room, avoiding eye contact with either of them.

  “It’s suicide,” Nicky tried to lock eyes with me.

  I turned away from her and stared at the tall window at the end of the room. I could see the endless stretch of woods behind the house. They were dark and gloomy. There was a storm coming soon. I held my elbows in my hands.

  “It’s a good plan,” I watched as the trees swayed lightly to the wind.

  “I’m going with you,” I heard Ryne stand up.

  “No,” Nicky and I said at the same time.

  “You’re too important,” I fought the urge to turn around and comfort him. “I might make it if I’m smart and alone.”

  There was a long silence after that. I assumed both Ryne and Nicky were calculating possibilities, seeing the pros and cons of the plan. It was suicide; only pure luck would save me. I ran my hands through my hair and tugged lightly.

  “Go,” Nicky whispered from behind of me. “I’ll hold him long enough so your scar will disappear.”

  She placed her hand on my shoulder and mumbled something I couldn’t understand. I bet Ryne thought she was trying to talk some sense in me. I felt guilt build in my gut. I turned to look and when green eyes locked with mine, I ported.

  I landed on the bed and on top of Ben. I placed my hand on his mouth before he could scream. I pulled out a small knife Nicky had slipped me a moment before and placed it at his neck.

  “One noise and I’ll slit your throat,” I warned.

  He had me pinned in a second and I ported. After placing my knife at the base of his spine I let a harsh laugh escape my lips. I dug the knife a little deeper so it bled a bit.

  “I thought I’d let you know we’re done,”

  “It’s disgusting how I never knew what I slept with,”

  “Yeah,” I twisted the knife. “I agree.”

  “You aren’t here to just torture me are you?” His voice wavered a bit.

  “I want information,” I played with the knife again. “Or I could just paralyze you. You could be useful to me or you could be useless on either side.”

  “You’re bluffing,” He spoke arrogantly.

  I bent so I was near his ear. “Why don’t you try me?”

  “What do you want to know?” He said with a hint of defeat.

  “Your leader’s name, what your plan of attack is, when you plan to do it, what your role in this, the usual stuff.”

  “I don’t know how controls us, but we can them ‘The Collector’.”

  “Why?”

  I could feel him smile. “The name explains itself.”

  My curiosity itched to know what he meant by that. Mel, he’s using that against you. Focus on the other stuff. I took in a breath.

  “What about the plan?”

  “I’m not high enough to know,” He moved his head so he could sort of see me.

  “What’s your rank?” I asked.

  “Assassin,” He paused. “I go under cover and kill unsuspecting, what do you call yourselves?”

  “What do you call yourselves?”

  If he wasn’t going to be direct with me, I wasn’t going to be direct with him. Was I being stubborn? No, I was using this against him.

  “Hunters mostly,”

  This guy is useless. What else was there to know? Think, think, think…

  “What other ranks are there?”

  “Lots,” He shrugged. “Many I don’t know about.”

  I barely thought about what I was doing. Next thing I knew I had Ben handcuffed to his bed by his arms and his legs were hand cuffed together.

  “Come on baby,” He tugged his arms. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “You’d follow me if I didn’t,” I ported into the Atlantic Ocean.

  They would be confused when they tracked my position into the middle of the ocean. I laughed and ported into the kitchen of Ryne’s house. I frowned at the last thought. It used to be our house. It was small and dysfunctional. Nothing matched. The fridge was a yellow-white color and the stove was white and black. The counters were made of cheap wood. The cabinets were the same dark oak color as the dining room table.

  The dishwasher was broken when we moved in and Ryne promised to fix it. I’d have to ask him about it. Hey, after you’re done saving all porters do you mind fixing the dish washer because I feel lazy. An annoying voice in the back of my head told me we wouldn’t be moving in together after the war. We’d both change it said. I shrugged it off. I forgot I was soaking wet. My clothes clung to me adding some pounds to the ones I already carry.

  I couldn’t really complain actually, I was slender, but not considered thin. I was average and I liked it. No need in low self-esteem. Nicky and Ryne came skidding into the room. I held my hands up and spun around.

  “No harm,” I was surprised when both Ryne and Nicky hugged me.

  Unexpectedly there was a snap in me and I grasped that it was my connection with Nicky kicking in. She was glued into me now and that battle between us lessened a bit. I placed one arm around the both of them.

  “Why are you wet?” Ryne ruined the moment.

  “I didn’t want to leave a trail straight to here,” I wiped my wet hands on my wet shirt and laughed. “I’m ruining the wood.”

  “What did you find out?” Nicky asked.

  It started to bother me again with the whole connection thing. How we just trusted each other like we had 20 years of friendship to back it up. I ignored the voice and would think about it later. It was time for business now.

  “He didn’t have much,” I said nonchalantly. “Their leader’s name is ‘The Collector’ but he wouldn’t tell me why. Other than that the guy was useless.”

  “No,” Nicky looked thoughtful as her black eyebrows knit together. “It’s probably a name for some sort of company. There can’t be nothing connected to him with a nickname like that.”

  “There could be a million people with that nickname,” Ryne ran his hand through his hair.

  I watched as the purple and brown almost skidded away from his hand like water. I almost smiled but I realized this was Ryne’s I-am-nervous sign, so it faded as quickly as it came. My head hurt a bit and I wanted to get these wet clothes off me, take a quick shower and get something dry on.

  “You guys can argue over what I gave you,” I moved past them. “I’m heading towards the shower.”

  My room was small, but somewhat cozy. I had what Ryne called the Loon Room because the place was everything Loons. Black and white birds filled up the whole room. The carpet had little accents of the birds and the walls were painted beautifully of a pond that contained over 20 loons. Whoever lived here before us had a crazy obsession.

  I threw the loon bed sheets, pillow cases, blankets, and stuffed animals away. It was too much for me. I threw my soggy clothes into the laundry ‘dump’. It’s this cool system that drops my clothes into the laundry room. I waited for the shower to heat up impatiently because with the storm coming in the room was colder than usual and not to mention I took a dip in a cold ocean.

  Once I climbed into the shower and the heat poured down my spine, I thanked whoever invented the heat opinion in showers. Slowly, my muscles loosened and I felt myself relax. My mind dully went ove
r a check list I had made earlier.

  I couldn’t understand why this connection thing didn’t stick to me. I knew nothing about Nicky but in a month I almost knew everything about Ryne. I should try and make an effort to befriend her right? I rubbed soap repeatedly on my stomach in a mindless motion.

  When would the war start? When would we meet all these people? When would Ryne truly take over the revolution? Was his father killed because of the war or just because?

  So many questions buzzed by and yet it seemed like there wasn’t enough time to answer any. Yet, there was enough time to complain about how there wasn’t enough time. Maybe there was time, but there were no answers and we don’t have time to look for the answers. There, that seems more logical.

  What was today? Wednesday? Because I always drop the food for the village on Wednesday. Yeah, today’s Wednesday and I’m running late! I loved to take my long, steam-filled showers but I like feeding people in Africa more. I pulled on my underwear and bra, grabbed a blue shirt, jeans, and some sneakers and ported into the man’s fridge.

  I met him while I was wandering, learning and advancing my porting skills. He told me about this crazy idea that he had about feeding homeless people all over Minnesota with sandwiches and I said it was an amazing idea. I pulled my clothes on, who knew that would come in handy? I grabbed as many sandwiches as my arms could hold and ported to Africa. The people in the village were waiting for me. I set down the sandwiches and kept porting back and forth until everyone had at least 2 sandwiches.

  They wore cheap clothes I could afford to steal, but they still brightened the village a bit. It was stuck next to a small, unfiltered lake so I also borrowed some filter water bottles for everyone. Thank you Wal-Mart. They have no resources what so ever so I always wondered how they built their houses. It was built with something strong, but hollow on the inside. Sort of like a very bland bamboo stick.

  The villagers spoke their language and a little girl gave me a necklace. It was made from African grass and had a wooden carving of a girl holding a box that looked strange. I think she saw my confused face and mustered up her courage.

  “Sandwich?” She asked in a strange accent.

  Her hair was braided to her tail bone and her skin was dirty with dust. I licked my finger and cleaned some that was near her lips. She giggled and I nodded at her word.

  “Sandwich,” I smiled.

  I realized the woman was me, handing out a sandwich. It was made from the poorest conditions but it was worth more than any diamond. I blinked away tears and swallowed down the burning in my chest. She looked around and looked a bit disappointed and handed me another necklace, which was of a tall man also handing out sandwiches.

  Ryne would’ve loved to see this. They finished eating and took their sandwiches to their small houses as their mornings began.

  I loved how I could think of any place and know an exact time zone. I had been gone for about 3 hours and I needed to get back home. I waved good-bye to those who waited outside their doors to watch me go. I wondered if they thought I was some sort of saint, sent by God or whichever person they looked up to. I ported back into my room.

  Dirt and mud caked my sneakers and I tossed them away from my closet, which was a raging monster of spilt clothes. I needed to clean it up soon but I would have to wait until morning. Well, later in the morning. I yawned as if I was agreeing to that last thought.

  The door opened and Ryne appeared. He wore the same purple faded shirt that he wore the day I met him and he didn’t look an inch less hot, though he wore loose sweat pants. His hair was in a messy pile probably from a shower earlier. He sat next to me on my small queen bed.

  “You went to Africa today,” He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “I forgot. I should’ve gone with you.”

  I laughed a bit and handed him his necklace. He stared at it, twisting it in his thumb and pointer finger. I realized the hand not holding the sandwich was extended. I looked at mine and it was the same thing, except with the opposite hand. He put it on and held his piece out.

  I extended mine and we watched. This is what they saw, through their eyes. Two people, gods if they believed, cared enough to feed them. Always holding hands and showing their love for them.

  “It seems surprising someone would want to end us,” I rested my head on my arm and stared at the pond of loons. “We change lives every day.”

  Ryne mimicked me and laid directly in my vision. “People fear change.”

  “Everyone fears change.”

  I was groggy that morning. I blinked away the blurry and could only see faded purple. Huh? I craned my neck and realized Ryne had actually fallen asleep here. He held me protectively against his chest and his warmth surrounded me. I traced my finger along the hard muscles of his stomach. He made a noise of approval and pulled me closer.

  “Did I fall asleep here?” His voice was low and sexy.

  “Yeah,” I said into his chest.

  I hate morning breath and it would kill my mood if he smelt mine. Or if I smelt his. It would just end terribly either way. He bent his body so his nose was in my hair.

  “My Melody,” He mumbled.

  I listened to his breathes as they became relaxed and even. Slowly, I managed to pull away and felt the cold rush against me. I changed my jeans for some warmth and found a comfy sweater that didn’t have a zipper and made my way towards the kitchen. I mopped up my mess from yesterday and almost fell asleep on the floor.

  “You and Ryne had a harsh night,” Nicky’s voice said cheerfully. “I could hear the snoring all the way from my room.”

  “Uggh,” I moaned. “Don’t be a morning person. No one likes a morning person.”

  “Uggh,” She mimicked me. “Okay.”

  “So why are you all dressed and ready to go?” I grabbed three mugs and set them on the counter.

  “I work as a waitress at Joe’s,” She smiled. “He needed some help and with a girl like me… He thought he might get more business.”

  I actually looked at her for the first time. Obviously, her most appeasing characteristic were her pale, blue eyes surrounded by long, thick lashes. Her eyebrows were perfect and her hair was long and straight down. For some odd reason her hair reminded me of the loons in my room. I need coffee.

  Her face had no freckles or scars, her mouth was full and her nose was average. She had a chubby face, not too much, but you couldn’t really see her cheekbones. The rest of her was skinny except for her boobs. They peered out from under the tang top Joe had given her. It was black and had Joe written in blue which just added to her.

  Her torso was long, but she couldn’t be much taller than me. 5’6 maybe. She wore dark skinny jeans and ankle boots made from leather. She looked pretty bad ass in a waitress outfit, I’ll give her that. My coffee machine dinged and I almost got on my knees and bowed to my caffeine god.

  I served us some coffee, but she poured it into a travel mug and took off. I shrugged, what did I expect? I pretty much just molested her with my eyes. I laughed at how weird I got every day. There was a knock at the door.

  A group of people stood there. I could see about 10 of them and they all stood behind a woman. She had long, platinum blonde hair and amber eyes. She had high cheekbones and sharp features. She was taller than me and her long legs were fitted into leggings which were perfected with knee-length boots that were the color of her eyes. Her shirt was a regular white shirt. She bowed and the people behind her followed.

  “It is my pleasure to meet you Ms. Ryne Owens.”