“I was lucky.”
“Luck can only get you so far. And what do you do there now?”
I open my mouth to lie that I’m working at the market, but I realize he might already know who I am. Since the king of High Hope communicated with him through the iguana, it stands to reason that he shared word of my arrival with him.
“You know what I do.”
“A member of the Assembly.”
“I’m not a member. You need to be elected for that. I just work for them.”
“Negotiating with kings.”
“If that’s on my to-do list.”
He laughs and pats my back. “If you’re worried about me torturing you for information, don’t be. I already know enough.”
I should feel relieved, but I’m left more worried than before.
We reach an old structure with long, white pillars.
“This is the mausoleum,” Hector says. “It’s supposed to hold the remains of over seventeen thousand people.”
“Did you know any of them?”
“None of the original tenants, but I added new ones that we’re here to visit.”
The place is chilly inside, made of stone and marble, with a high ceiling and tall windows. Our footsteps echo between the walls as we walk deeper into the mausoleum, stopping by a small chamber where the marble floor is so shiny, it reflects the walls. A colorful window is facing us, showing what I assume are old religious figures. The artwork is beautiful.
On both sides of the room are rows of drawers with names engraved on them. Four drawers have metal plates, as if they are newer than the rest. I step forward and read the names, my mouth going dry. I look at Hector, who’s leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. His dark clothes, hair and beard stand as a striking contrast to the shiny white around him.
“Erica, Ben, Eleanor, and Sam,” I say. “The kids who joined you when you left Pueblo.”
“Yes.” He comes closer, standing next to me as we face the names. “It took me years to collect their remains, and when I succeeded, I brought them here.”
“How did they die?”
“Monsters killed them, though I’m sure they believedtheywere the ones killing the monsters. In the months after we left Pueblo, we began developing signs of mutation. I was able to make mine disappear for a short while, but the others couldn’t.We were thrown out of every settlement we found. Most people were sick and weak back then from radiation, but the five of us were strong and willing to work hard for a place to stay. It didn’t matter, because to them, we were the sick ones. Our childish notion of finding a new home was short-lived.”
He strokes the metal plate with the name Erica. “She got shot by people in a caravan. We asked them for a bit of food after seeing how well-fed their children were, but they chased us away, ending their pursuit with a single bullet. We buried Erica in the woods, feeling that our little family would never be the same. Later that night, I went back to find the caravan and brought Erica justice, but I left the children alive to fend for themselves. If the world was meant to be cruel, let it be cruel for everyone.”
He moves to touch the names of Ben and Eleanor. “They were twins. Inseparable. They didn’t like my… approach to handling humans, even after seeing how evil they could be. They decided to separate from Sam and me. Well, they wanted him to come with them, but Sam refused to leave me.” He goes quiet for a while, heaviness in his eyes. “I believed they were bound to change their mind once they realized they needed me to survive. My ability to blend in with humans and gather supplies was crucial for our survival. We kept close to the twins for a few days to give them time to cool off, but we lost them at some point. When we finally managed to trace their steps, it was too late. We found them hanging by the entrance to a small settlement, displayed naked and mutilated as a warning to any other mutants who dared approach. Sam was the one who said we must avenge them, and that night, we did. Everyone whocouldn’t escape was burned down, and we made sure to hunt down those who survived the fire.”
I soak in the stories of Hector’s bloody past, wondering if anyone else has ever heard them. “What about Sam?”
He lets out a long sigh. “He was the kindest of us all, and my closest friend. I suppose I was in love with him, but with survival being our main concern, romance wasn’t yet on the table.” He strokes Sam’s nameplate. “There was nothing heroic about his death; no act of bravery or even stupidity. We were walking by a creek, searching for a place to stop for the night. I remember it was chilly, and I liked that, because it meant we would sleep cuddled for warmth. Sam walked ahead of me when I heard a sound from across the creek, but I wasn’t fast enough to react. By the time I spotted the barrel of the gun, I only had time to shout Sam’s name, then his head exploded.”
He takes a deep breath, his nails digging into Sam’s nameplate. “People rushed from the trees, telling me I was okay, that I was safe. I was in shock, staring at my closest friend lying in a puddle of blood that was soaking into the creek, his head completely gone. I realized they must have thought I was in danger, a human teen walking with a mutant, even though Sam’s only visible mutation was the green scales on his cheeks and two lovely horns on his head. I let the people take me to their settlement, a peaceful place on top of a hill. I stayed with them for a few weeks, learning each of their names as well as their hopes and dreams.” He meets my eyes, sending a shiver of ice down my spine. “I used them to secretly practice my powers, from causing unexplainable pain to driving someone mad. Their settlement—their entire way of life—began to fall apart pieceby piece. By the time they connected the dots that led to me, my hold on them was too strong. I made them slaughter each other, neighbor against neighbor, husband against wife. It was glorious, but most of all, it was just.” He strokes my cheek. “Are you about to faint?”
“No.” But I do feel dizzy, trying not to vividly picture what he is describing. “I’m sorry about what happened to your friends. What did you do after that?”
“I kept to myself for a few months, surviving without needing to rely on anyone. I began to accept that this would be my life from now on, and the thought of returning to Pueblo without my friends was unacceptable. One day, I saw other mutants and assumed that they were being held as prisoners by Raiders. I’ve never met a Raider, but I heard enough to make them seem like scum of the earth. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that those Raiders didn’t hold mutants as prisoners or slaves but as brothers and sisters in arms.”
“So you joined them.”
“It was the logical thing to do, but they were pitiful back then, despite controlling Denver. The city was a mess, with people killing each other over nothing and a bunch of powerful families trying to make everyone behave. Eventually, one of them was able to unite the city enough to change things for the better, but after watching from the shadows for so many years, I couldn’t let my future army turn into a bunch of peace-loving sissies. I got rid of him, and my people sank into chaos once more, until I was powerful enough to become their leader. It required almost no bloodshed, simply following my decades-long plan.”
I don’t believe such a plan didn’t involve bloodshed, but he must have been smart enough to cover his tracks. “Is Caden a part of your plan?”
