The Forsaken - The Apocalypse Trilogy: Book Two Read Online Free Page B

And this
purpose had brought him here. The City of Light was a festering
sore, a gray running boil on the backside of human history. But
Felon had found cause for mirth.

    5 – Mr. Jay

    Dawn was in her cubbyhole. Mr. Jay had picked
an abandoned apartment building on Zero for their hideout. Most of
the ancient structure had been filled with concrete and stone to
form a pillar for the City’s upper levels but a few of its rooms
were still accessible. Her cubbyhole was inside an old chimney. For
her protection Mr. Jay had fashioned a door for it that she could
lock from the inside. She remembered him gleefully showing her how
the peephole worked—he was handy with tools. There was a little
mattress, snacks and bottled water in it in case she had to stay
there a while. When Mr. Jay was away, she was just supposed to stay
inside the building, and never stray from their hideout—if she ever
heard someone coming she was to return to her cubbyhole. She had
been so terrified by the trouble in the alley that she ran all the
way back to the old building and hid herself—lying there covered up
in her quilt—all her muscles quivering.
    As the footsteps approached, she knew from
their sound that it was Mr. Jay. She had listened so many times for
him that she recognized his step as easily as his voice. This time
though, she did not run out to greet him. Her heart still ached
with guilt and fear.
    “Dawn?” Mr. Jay’s voice was warm in the
darkness. The hideout was just a big brick room about twelve feet
on a side where they kept a little table, some cards and their
possessions. The sound of Mr. Jay’s movements drew near, urgent
now. Tears started to leak from her eyes.
    The secret door jiggled, but did not open.
She had locked it. “Dawn.” Relief filled Mr. Jay’s voice. “So
you’re here.” She heard him slide down the wall and settle to the
right of the door. “Would you come out please?”
    She pushed the quilt aside—her clothes still
damp from running through the rain—and unlatched the door. She slid
it open a crack, and saw Mr. Jay in the orange flame of a candle he
was lighting. His eyes turned. He grinned weakly then blew out the
match and set the candle on the floor. “Come out. Please.”
    Dawn pushed the door open a little further,
and then opened it wide. Her chin drooped as she stepped out of the
darkness and crouched on the sill of her cubbyhole. Mr. Jay
regarded her in the half-light. The creases around his eyes and
over his forehead were wrinkled with concern. His bearded lips were
pursed in a frown. A purple lump distorted his left eyebrow.
    “Are you all right?” His voice was even and
calm, just as it had been in the alley.
    Dawn could not control her lips when she was
sad. The lower one curled out and down. Her cheeks were damp from
tears. She nodded.
    Mr. Jay smiled a weary smile. “Good.”
    Her lips were quivering again; Dawn fought
the urge to cry but was having difficulty.
    Mr. Jay smiled again, and then waved with his
long slim hand. “Please come out, Dawn.”
    She slid herself out of the darkness an inch
or two more, saw Mr. Jay frown, and then inched out until she was
bathed in the candlelight. Mr. Jay’s dark green eyes flitted over
her body—concern melting to relief.
    “They didn’t hurt you?” His voice was
relaxing.
    Dawn shook her head.
    “That’s good.” He nodded and put a hand on
her shoulder. “Your shirt’s soaked!” He reached past her and pulled
her quilt out and wrapped it over her shoulders. “Dawn…” His voice
was tired. He shook his head.
    Dawn clenched her jaws, her voice exploding
past pursed lips. “I’m sorry!” She looked at the welt over his eye.
“Did they hurt you ?” Her lip trembled again.
    “No,” Mr. Jay whispered, his white teeth
flashing through his short whiskers.
    “I’m sorry I...” she said quickly—too quickly
for tears to escape.
    “Dawn, we talked about this.” He shook his
head. “It’s very dangerous for