The Tomorrow Series Fanfiction: Who Will Lead Us? - Chapter 13
This is Chapter 13 in a fanfiction of The Tomorrow Trilogy by theun4givables.
previous chapter
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Jazz didn’t know why they were holding this meeting when there was nothing more that could be done. After all, nobody wanted to support them, except for a very small number of people. And that small number of people couldn’t provide much in way of support.
A little support was better than none, Jazz supposed, but even their small number of supporters appeared to be dwindling. Jazz hadn’t heard from their biggest one, Agent Riley, in weeks, which caused his stomach to knot in worry. He knew the undercover operative in the NBEA had undertaken dangerous work that could all too easily get him caught. Jazz would have no way of knowing Riley’s whereabouts if he were discovered.
“So we’re screwed, is what you’re saying?” Alex asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jazz thought Alex said that entirely too casually. He sighed, “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
Nem looked over at the Compound leader, his eyes full of worry. “There’s got to be something we can do,” he said.
Jazz couldn’t agree with Nem, as much as he wanted to. Even if he could think of something to try, he was secretly afraid of attempting anything. It seemed every time Jazz made a move, he failed. Perhaps it was best if he stayed out of everything, not that it would matter at this point in time.
“The only thing we can do is wait for Mitchel to fuck something up,” Savin muttered, shaking his head. “The man’s already let the power go to his head. Once he manages to do something truly awful --”
“Like the NB Purge ain’t fuckin’ awful enough?” Ravi asked, scowling.
“It’s pretty fucking awful,” Jazz agreed.
What more was there to say after that? Things were awful, but at least they couldn’t get much worse.
* * *
Because of everything that had happened, Jazz and Savin hadn’t really gotten the chance to spend any time alone together. Now that they were finally on good terms with each other again, Jazz wanted to remedy that particular situation. He climbed into Savin’s lap, kissing the older man deeply.
Savin returned the kiss enthusiastically, even sliding his hand down to grab Jazz’s ass. Jazz moaned into the kiss and pressed himself closer to Savin. It had been far too long since they had done this.
Jazz was so absorbed in the feel of the other man that he at first didn’t notice the knocking at the door. When it finally pierced his consciousness, he ignored it, instead slipping a hand under Savin’s shirt. He felt the older man shiver at his touch, but the knocking didn’t stop. It only grew louder and more insistent. Jazz broke the kiss long enough to shout, “Go away!”
That did nothing to stop the knocking. Groaning, Jazz got off of Savin. Whatever the knocker wanted, it could not possibly be so important as to require his immediate attention, not when he already felt an ache between his legs. He would deal with this quickly and then get back to enjoying himself with Savin.
Jazz vainly tried to straighten out his rumpled shirt and messy hair before answering the door. Whoever was on the other side kept knocking, as if their life depended on it or something. When he finally opened the door, Nem stood on the other side. The man was out of breath, and he looked downright panicked. Jazz got a sinking feeling in his stomach as he ran a hand through his hair.
“What’s up, Nem? This isn’t a good time,” he said.
“Mitchel knows about the Compound. He’s planning to attack, and soon,” Nem cried, gesturing frantically.
Savin must have seen Nem’s agitated state because he came to the door as well. At first, Jazz couldn’t believe what the other man had said. Mitchel -- how could Mitchel know about the Compound?
“Are you serious?” Savin asked, sliding an arm around Jazz’s waist. Jazz could feel the tension in the older man’s body. This couldn’t be happening now.
Nem looked at the two of them, his eyes burning as if he were fevered. “I’m one hundred percent serious. More than one hundred percent.”
“How? The Compound is supposed to be secure,” Savin said. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“I was doing a routine inspection of the communications systems. I -- I found comm logs between Mitchel and -- and someone in the Compound. They were real hidden, but they were there. I don’t know who, but someone tipped him off, and he plans to attack.” Nem shook visibly and his voice was shrill.
Jazz ran a hand through his hair again. “If you’re sure about this, we’ve gotta get everyone out of here.”
“You mean evacuate?” Nem asked.
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking mean. We gotta call a meeting, now,” Jazz muttered. “Tell Ravi and Alex to come to the meeting room as soon as possible.”
Nem stood there for a moment before running off. Jazz wanted to believe this wasn’t happening. Instead, he accompanied Savin to the meeting room, holding onto the older man for support. When they arrived at the meeting room, Ravi, Alex and Nem were already there. Everybody looked tense; the anxiety in the room was the kind a person could almost touch.
“So, what’s the story?” Alex asked, leaning forward. “Why did you call this meeting?”
How could he not know? Jazz narrowed his eyes at Alex’s casual question. “Mitchel’s planning an attack on the Compound and we need to evacuate.”
Alex actually raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? How can you be so sure?”
“I was doing inspections of the communications systems. I -- I found logs between someone and Mitchel, talking about an attack. They encrypted their identity, so I don’t know who, but we have a traitor,” Nem said frantically, fear obvious in his eyes.
“You can’t be fuckin’ serious,” Ravi muttered. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“We’re serious,” Savin sighed as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Alex sat up straighter and turned to Nem, something unidentifiable in his eyes as he looked at the other man. “If that’s really the case, we need to make a plan, alert everyone here. And -- we’ll need someone to lead the evacuation efforts, make sure everyone gets to safety.” He paused. “Nem should do it.”
Nem’s eyes widened. “You want me to lead everyone? But you’re the leader,” he breathed.
“And it’s a leader’s job to make sure his people are safe, right? He stays behind until everyone is taken care of,” Alex said, smiling ever so slightly. “I trust you, Nem.”
“I trust you too, Alex. If you say I should lead the evacuation, I’ll do it,” Nem said.
Jazz had misgivings about this, but Alex was the Compound leader and did technically have authority over how they should evacuate it. Still, Jazz bit his lip, looking worriedly at the others. He couldn’t quite articulate why he didn’t like Alex’s plan, but he didn’t. “You’re sure this is the best idea?” he asked.
Alex nodded. “I’m sure. We shouldn’t argue anymore; let’s start planning.”
Trying to put his misgivings aside, Jazz started helping Alex plan his evacuation. Jazz only hoped it would actually work.
* * *
Miraculously enough, Alex’s evacuation plan had worked. Everyone had gotten out except for Alex, Jazz, Savin and Ravi. The four of them remained inside the Compound to ensure that everything had gone according to the plan.
“Everything’s good,” Alex said. He looked out at the rest of them. “It’s time for us to leave now.”
Jazz knew Alex was the leader, but he still wondered at the man’s odd confidence and apparently lack of panic. The abandoned, too-silent Compound unnerved him as the four of them stood in the hallway. Jazz kept looking around, afraid Mitchel’s forces would descend upon them at any second. “So which way do we go?” he asked.
“They’ll never suspect if we take the back exit,” Alex said confidently. “It’s farther from where we are, but it’s bound to be safer.”
The “back exit” Alex referred to was all the way across the Compound. Jazz would have preferred to take a quicker route out.
“If you think that’s the best idea,” Savin murmured. Wanting to quell his growing nervousness, Jazz took Savin’s hand.
Alex surveyed the group one last time. “If everyone’s ready, let’s get going.”
As they crossed the Compound in tense silence, Jazz felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. The group was about halfway to their desired exit when Jazz said, “Something’s coming. We need to run.”
“I don’t see or hear anything. Besides, if we start running now, we might alert whatever bad guys are nearby,” Alex muttered, giving Jazz a skeptical look.
“Trust me on this,” Jazz said, glaring at Alex. “We need to fucking run.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” the Compound leader murmured.
Why was Alex so supposed to running when it made the most sense? Jazz thought he knew.
Not worrying about Alex’s objections anymore, he ran. Jazz pulled Savin with him and Ravi follow suit.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Alex shouted from behind them.
That was when Jazz heard the first gunshots. Heart hammering at the all too familiar sound, he picked up the pace. Thanks to the Compound leader’s “help,” they were far away from any exit. More gunshots rang out; in the strangely echoing Compound hallways, Jazz couldn’t tell the shooters’ locations. For all he knew, they could be running straight towards the source of fire.
When the gunshots got louder as they turned a corner, Jazz knew they had gone the wrong way. He pushed Savin out of the line of fire just as the next round of shots went off. Luckily, none of the bullets hit Jazz.
Savin wasn’t so lucky. One of the bullets hit him in the leg. “Fucking Christ!”
Jazz froze with horror when he saw Savin get shot and crumple to the ground. “Shit!” Jazz hissed.
“How -- how the hell did you go anywhere like this? It fucking hurts,” Savin groaned.
“Because if I didn’t keep moving, I’d die. And never get to see you again. That’s how,” Jazz muttered. He knelt by Savin. “We gotta go back and get you outta here.”
“Can’t walk. I’ll -- I’ll only slow you down,” Savin said. “Go on without me.”
“Not over my dead body,” Jazz insisted, sliding his shoulder under Savin’s arm. “You’re fucking coming with us.”
Ravi took the other side of Savin, helping Jazz lift him so the three of them could walk. It was slow going, with limited options for where to turn.
“Damnit, Savin,” Jazz hissed after a while. “I thought the bullets were supposed to like me. At least I can fucking push through the damn pain.”
“Never been -- fucking shot before,” Savin grumbled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I told you to fucking leave me -- behind.”
“I will never fucking leave you behind,” Jazz said. He grunted with the effort of helping the older man walk. It seemed like Savin was less and less able to carry any of his own weight. Jazz wouldn’t think about that, not until they got to safety.
“You should have left him behind. Then maybe you would have had a chance.” That voice. Jazz knew that voice -- it was Alex. The Compound leader appeared as if from nowhere, looking decidedly relaxed. “I told you running was a bad idea.”
“Alex -- what the fuck are you doing? We’ve got to get out of here,” Jazz said, though he knew with a sinking certainty Alex had betrayed them.
The man smirked, and Jazz noticed he held a gun. “I can’t let you escape, you know,” Alex murmured. “Mitchel wouldn’t like that, really.”
“Don’t do this,” Jazz pleaded.
Alex readied his gun and pointed it at Savin. Jazz’s heart stopped, and his stomach sank to his feet. No, he thought to himself.
“Since your boyfriend is already injured...you might want to say goodbye now.” Alex adopted an expression of obviously false sympathy. He fired the gun. Jazz tried to cover Savin, but Ravi got there first, taking the bullet instead and falling to the ground.
Savin was unbalanced by the absence of Ravi’s support; he almost fell. Jazz caught him just as Alex fired again. The bullet hit Savin in the back, instantly staining his shirt with blood. Jazz stared, horrified, but he didn’t let go of the older man. He held onto Savin tighter whispering, “No, no” as the life drained from him.
Alex smiled, and it was almost friendly. “Don’t worry; you’ll get to see Savin again soon,” he murmured. He pointed the gun at Jazz and fired.
Jazz faced the bullet head on. He didn’t flinch, and he didn’t let go of Savin. Nothing would separate them, not even death itself.
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written for 500themes prompt #468 - "Through the Fire"
previous chapter
---------
Jazz didn’t know why they were holding this meeting when there was nothing more that could be done. After all, nobody wanted to support them, except for a very small number of people. And that small number of people couldn’t provide much in way of support.
A little support was better than none, Jazz supposed, but even their small number of supporters appeared to be dwindling. Jazz hadn’t heard from their biggest one, Agent Riley, in weeks, which caused his stomach to knot in worry. He knew the undercover operative in the NBEA had undertaken dangerous work that could all too easily get him caught. Jazz would have no way of knowing Riley’s whereabouts if he were discovered.
“So we’re screwed, is what you’re saying?” Alex asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Jazz thought Alex said that entirely too casually. He sighed, “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.”
Nem looked over at the Compound leader, his eyes full of worry. “There’s got to be something we can do,” he said.
Jazz couldn’t agree with Nem, as much as he wanted to. Even if he could think of something to try, he was secretly afraid of attempting anything. It seemed every time Jazz made a move, he failed. Perhaps it was best if he stayed out of everything, not that it would matter at this point in time.
“The only thing we can do is wait for Mitchel to fuck something up,” Savin muttered, shaking his head. “The man’s already let the power go to his head. Once he manages to do something truly awful --”
“Like the NB Purge ain’t fuckin’ awful enough?” Ravi asked, scowling.
“It’s pretty fucking awful,” Jazz agreed.
What more was there to say after that? Things were awful, but at least they couldn’t get much worse.
* * *
Because of everything that had happened, Jazz and Savin hadn’t really gotten the chance to spend any time alone together. Now that they were finally on good terms with each other again, Jazz wanted to remedy that particular situation. He climbed into Savin’s lap, kissing the older man deeply.
Savin returned the kiss enthusiastically, even sliding his hand down to grab Jazz’s ass. Jazz moaned into the kiss and pressed himself closer to Savin. It had been far too long since they had done this.
Jazz was so absorbed in the feel of the other man that he at first didn’t notice the knocking at the door. When it finally pierced his consciousness, he ignored it, instead slipping a hand under Savin’s shirt. He felt the older man shiver at his touch, but the knocking didn’t stop. It only grew louder and more insistent. Jazz broke the kiss long enough to shout, “Go away!”
That did nothing to stop the knocking. Groaning, Jazz got off of Savin. Whatever the knocker wanted, it could not possibly be so important as to require his immediate attention, not when he already felt an ache between his legs. He would deal with this quickly and then get back to enjoying himself with Savin.
Jazz vainly tried to straighten out his rumpled shirt and messy hair before answering the door. Whoever was on the other side kept knocking, as if their life depended on it or something. When he finally opened the door, Nem stood on the other side. The man was out of breath, and he looked downright panicked. Jazz got a sinking feeling in his stomach as he ran a hand through his hair.
“What’s up, Nem? This isn’t a good time,” he said.
“Mitchel knows about the Compound. He’s planning to attack, and soon,” Nem cried, gesturing frantically.
Savin must have seen Nem’s agitated state because he came to the door as well. At first, Jazz couldn’t believe what the other man had said. Mitchel -- how could Mitchel know about the Compound?
“Are you serious?” Savin asked, sliding an arm around Jazz’s waist. Jazz could feel the tension in the older man’s body. This couldn’t be happening now.
Nem looked at the two of them, his eyes burning as if he were fevered. “I’m one hundred percent serious. More than one hundred percent.”
“How? The Compound is supposed to be secure,” Savin said. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“I was doing a routine inspection of the communications systems. I -- I found comm logs between Mitchel and -- and someone in the Compound. They were real hidden, but they were there. I don’t know who, but someone tipped him off, and he plans to attack.” Nem shook visibly and his voice was shrill.
Jazz ran a hand through his hair again. “If you’re sure about this, we’ve gotta get everyone out of here.”
“You mean evacuate?” Nem asked.
“Yeah, that’s what I fucking mean. We gotta call a meeting, now,” Jazz muttered. “Tell Ravi and Alex to come to the meeting room as soon as possible.”
Nem stood there for a moment before running off. Jazz wanted to believe this wasn’t happening. Instead, he accompanied Savin to the meeting room, holding onto the older man for support. When they arrived at the meeting room, Ravi, Alex and Nem were already there. Everybody looked tense; the anxiety in the room was the kind a person could almost touch.
“So, what’s the story?” Alex asked, leaning forward. “Why did you call this meeting?”
How could he not know? Jazz narrowed his eyes at Alex’s casual question. “Mitchel’s planning an attack on the Compound and we need to evacuate.”
Alex actually raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? How can you be so sure?”
“I was doing inspections of the communications systems. I -- I found logs between someone and Mitchel, talking about an attack. They encrypted their identity, so I don’t know who, but we have a traitor,” Nem said frantically, fear obvious in his eyes.
“You can’t be fuckin’ serious,” Ravi muttered. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“We’re serious,” Savin sighed as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Alex sat up straighter and turned to Nem, something unidentifiable in his eyes as he looked at the other man. “If that’s really the case, we need to make a plan, alert everyone here. And -- we’ll need someone to lead the evacuation efforts, make sure everyone gets to safety.” He paused. “Nem should do it.”
Nem’s eyes widened. “You want me to lead everyone? But you’re the leader,” he breathed.
“And it’s a leader’s job to make sure his people are safe, right? He stays behind until everyone is taken care of,” Alex said, smiling ever so slightly. “I trust you, Nem.”
“I trust you too, Alex. If you say I should lead the evacuation, I’ll do it,” Nem said.
Jazz had misgivings about this, but Alex was the Compound leader and did technically have authority over how they should evacuate it. Still, Jazz bit his lip, looking worriedly at the others. He couldn’t quite articulate why he didn’t like Alex’s plan, but he didn’t. “You’re sure this is the best idea?” he asked.
Alex nodded. “I’m sure. We shouldn’t argue anymore; let’s start planning.”
Trying to put his misgivings aside, Jazz started helping Alex plan his evacuation. Jazz only hoped it would actually work.
* * *
Miraculously enough, Alex’s evacuation plan had worked. Everyone had gotten out except for Alex, Jazz, Savin and Ravi. The four of them remained inside the Compound to ensure that everything had gone according to the plan.
“Everything’s good,” Alex said. He looked out at the rest of them. “It’s time for us to leave now.”
Jazz knew Alex was the leader, but he still wondered at the man’s odd confidence and apparently lack of panic. The abandoned, too-silent Compound unnerved him as the four of them stood in the hallway. Jazz kept looking around, afraid Mitchel’s forces would descend upon them at any second. “So which way do we go?” he asked.
“They’ll never suspect if we take the back exit,” Alex said confidently. “It’s farther from where we are, but it’s bound to be safer.”
The “back exit” Alex referred to was all the way across the Compound. Jazz would have preferred to take a quicker route out.
“If you think that’s the best idea,” Savin murmured. Wanting to quell his growing nervousness, Jazz took Savin’s hand.
Alex surveyed the group one last time. “If everyone’s ready, let’s get going.”
As they crossed the Compound in tense silence, Jazz felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. The group was about halfway to their desired exit when Jazz said, “Something’s coming. We need to run.”
“I don’t see or hear anything. Besides, if we start running now, we might alert whatever bad guys are nearby,” Alex muttered, giving Jazz a skeptical look.
“Trust me on this,” Jazz said, glaring at Alex. “We need to fucking run.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” the Compound leader murmured.
Why was Alex so supposed to running when it made the most sense? Jazz thought he knew.
Not worrying about Alex’s objections anymore, he ran. Jazz pulled Savin with him and Ravi follow suit.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Alex shouted from behind them.
That was when Jazz heard the first gunshots. Heart hammering at the all too familiar sound, he picked up the pace. Thanks to the Compound leader’s “help,” they were far away from any exit. More gunshots rang out; in the strangely echoing Compound hallways, Jazz couldn’t tell the shooters’ locations. For all he knew, they could be running straight towards the source of fire.
When the gunshots got louder as they turned a corner, Jazz knew they had gone the wrong way. He pushed Savin out of the line of fire just as the next round of shots went off. Luckily, none of the bullets hit Jazz.
Savin wasn’t so lucky. One of the bullets hit him in the leg. “Fucking Christ!”
Jazz froze with horror when he saw Savin get shot and crumple to the ground. “Shit!” Jazz hissed.
“How -- how the hell did you go anywhere like this? It fucking hurts,” Savin groaned.
“Because if I didn’t keep moving, I’d die. And never get to see you again. That’s how,” Jazz muttered. He knelt by Savin. “We gotta go back and get you outta here.”
“Can’t walk. I’ll -- I’ll only slow you down,” Savin said. “Go on without me.”
“Not over my dead body,” Jazz insisted, sliding his shoulder under Savin’s arm. “You’re fucking coming with us.”
Ravi took the other side of Savin, helping Jazz lift him so the three of them could walk. It was slow going, with limited options for where to turn.
“Damnit, Savin,” Jazz hissed after a while. “I thought the bullets were supposed to like me. At least I can fucking push through the damn pain.”
“Never been -- fucking shot before,” Savin grumbled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I told you to fucking leave me -- behind.”
“I will never fucking leave you behind,” Jazz said. He grunted with the effort of helping the older man walk. It seemed like Savin was less and less able to carry any of his own weight. Jazz wouldn’t think about that, not until they got to safety.
“You should have left him behind. Then maybe you would have had a chance.” That voice. Jazz knew that voice -- it was Alex. The Compound leader appeared as if from nowhere, looking decidedly relaxed. “I told you running was a bad idea.”
“Alex -- what the fuck are you doing? We’ve got to get out of here,” Jazz said, though he knew with a sinking certainty Alex had betrayed them.
The man smirked, and Jazz noticed he held a gun. “I can’t let you escape, you know,” Alex murmured. “Mitchel wouldn’t like that, really.”
“Don’t do this,” Jazz pleaded.
Alex readied his gun and pointed it at Savin. Jazz’s heart stopped, and his stomach sank to his feet. No, he thought to himself.
“Since your boyfriend is already injured...you might want to say goodbye now.” Alex adopted an expression of obviously false sympathy. He fired the gun. Jazz tried to cover Savin, but Ravi got there first, taking the bullet instead and falling to the ground.
Savin was unbalanced by the absence of Ravi’s support; he almost fell. Jazz caught him just as Alex fired again. The bullet hit Savin in the back, instantly staining his shirt with blood. Jazz stared, horrified, but he didn’t let go of the older man. He held onto Savin tighter whispering, “No, no” as the life drained from him.
Alex smiled, and it was almost friendly. “Don’t worry; you’ll get to see Savin again soon,” he murmured. He pointed the gun at Jazz and fired.
Jazz faced the bullet head on. He didn’t flinch, and he didn’t let go of Savin. Nothing would separate them, not even death itself.
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written for 500themes prompt #468 - "Through the Fire"