Whispers of the Diamond: A Romance of Memory and Desire

Chapter 6 - Terra

The room was small, maybe around 6 feet by 8, tiny and cramped, but that was the idea—to psychologically psyche you out. This wasn't my first time in one of these rooms, though last time hadn't ended well. It wasn't the first time I'd been chased by a Hunter, either. I was prepared for this. Joseph had given us all rather vigorous training. I just had to wait for my opportunity.

There was a small camera in the corner; a red dot indicated it was active and followed me as I paced. Then, of course, the large mirror on the wall. I stared at my reflection, trying to gauge where Alex might be standing on the other side. I smiled darkly. I'd get in his head; he'd make a mistake, and his emotions would cloud his judgement. That was my strategy.

I rolled my eyes as the door opened and that stuck-up blonde walked in, followed, of course, by the ever-obedient Alex. He looked worn out. I felt for him.

"Please sit, Miss Forsythe," she snapped. I thought about it for a moment, but Alex's hand rested on his gun, and I had no idea what he would actually do, so I obeyed for now, seating myself opposite her.

"For the record, can you state your name?"

"Alicia Forsythe. I live in the Blakemore Tower. It's a shithole, but it's home, ya know?" I smiled, sickly sweet now, as I let my facade of a clueless girl take charge.

Abigail folded her arms in front of her. I swear those arms could crush me in a heartbeat. She wasn't a woman to screw with, but I had no choice. I wasn't about to just sit down like a good little lowlander—a term for us less fortunate. The truth was, the resistance didn't seek to overthrow the government like most thought; we just wanted a little equality in the world, to be able to live with reasonable means. It wasn't a big ask, really.

"Alicia Forsythe, or should I call you Terra? Hmm? You are charged with fourteen counts of destruction of property, sixty-one counts of murder—that's quite a record—multiple counts of handling illicit materials, smuggling, and black market trading. You know the punishment for these crimes." That fucking condescending tone. The punishment was death, but then the punishment for crossing the road in the wrong place was also death. It didn't really matter what you did in the world; the sentence was always the same.

"Lemme guess, your little lap dog there is going to put a bullet in my head. It's okay, baby, I forgive you." It was at that moment I saw the flicker of recognition in Abigail's eyes as she looked to Alex, then back at me.

"You know him?" she asked slowly. In that moment, Abigail was very careful with her choice of words. Had I revealed my advantage by mistake? No, it didn't matter; Alex would, in the end, do the right thing.

"Knew," I corrected her, with no uncertain terms.

"He has brought down half of your organisation. Doesn't that bother you?" Abigail's voice was cold now, all tone drained away; she was going right for an emotional response.

"Nope, we know what we sign up for," I shrugged in response. Of course, it sucked when friends were killed, but we really did understand the risks. We had candles burning for everyone who'd lost their lives for our cause.

"Hmm," Abigail replied before continuing, "He's an effective tool, and he apprehended you with no resistance. You missed him that badly that you wish to spend your final hours together?"

"I gave myself up so the others could escape. And those deaths you mentioned—you forgot they're all military or government. We have never harmed civilians and children, unlike your lapdog there," I shot back angrily, a flash of my temper flaring as the memory of a hunter gunning down an old friend came to mind. He'd also hit two women and a child in his attempt.

Alex seemed to shift uncomfortably, though he said nothing as Abigail threw him a glance and then returned her eyes to me. Deep blue—she was a smart woman, with intelligence just behind that vicious stare.

"Give me the rest of your group, and..."

"You'll show me mercy?" I spat in disgust. "No thanks, not the kind I need. So get your little doggy over there to put a bullet in my brain, and we can be done with this." It was a brave statement, but the sooner I was dead, the sooner they could bring me back. There were restrictions on having more than one copy of you in the world. Creating a second would actually bring the full force of the government's reclamation unit down on you, and those guys were insane, to say the least.

"Of course not," Abigail laughed, her eyes wicked with whatever was in her head. I think she was actually genuinely crazy. Still, all I had to do was keep my head and get into Alex's.

Alex was driven by a strong sense of loyalty; he always had been. He and I were as loyal to one another as it ever got. Our relationship had guided me over the years. In times of uncertainty, "What would Alex do?" crossed my mind and gave me the resolution to do what was needed. At twenty-five, I was relatively young when I met him—young and reckless. Alex tempered that; being almost thirty-five, he was older and somewhat wiser. Nevertheless, we had fallen for each other and had a love unlike anything I could ever imagine in this hellscape we call a future.

I missed that, and I'd do almost anything to throw myself into his arms and feel safe again. But we were on opposite ends of this fight, and our years apart had clearly hardened us both. I wanted justice and equality; he just wanted us gone. I'd heard stories of the way he went after my killers, how he had hunted them across the globe. He'd always said he would hunt to the ends of the earth to protect me; I never realized he meant it literally.

"So you're saying I'm free to go?" I grinned as I looked Abigail in the eye. This single act seemed to unnerve her slightly as she stood and left with Alex in tow. At least I had that small victory. It was probably the last one I was going to get.