“I don’t even need a heating pad with you in my bed,” she slurs sleepily. “Feels good…”
When I open my eyes again, Phoenix is jumping up, pulling a shirt and pants on.
“Someone’s out there,” she hisses, looking toward the window.
I hear it then, a continuous thud at the front of the house.
“Did you hear that? Someone’s at the door.” Her voice is panicked and I get up too, striding toward her and putting my hand on her back.
“Stay here,” I order.
I move into the hall, Phoenix on my heels, and Gwen walks out of her room, wild-eyed. Phoenix puts her finger to her lips to make sure we’re quiet while the pounding at the door gets louder.
Going to the window furthest from the door, I look out through the crack in the curtains. The figure is small; I can’t see all of the person, but the shirt is familiar.
It hits me suddenly who it is. I fling open the door as the girls simultaneously shout, “No!”
There’s a moment of shocked silence before Tahira falls into my arms, sobbing and clutching at me frantically.
“Oh my God,” Phoenix says. “Oh my God.”
Tahira’s arm dangles from a bad break. I snatch her up, carrying her to where the fire is still dwindling, and gently set her down on the sofa.
Gwen pushes me out of the way just as Phoenix rushes from the kitchen with an armload of supplies. Tahira’s eyes flutter open. When she sees Gwen, an anguished moan presses through her lips.
“Gwen...the others,” she sobs. “The others.”
“What happened, Tahira?” Gwen tries to keep her voice even, but I hear the tremble as she slides scissors up the girl’s shirt, cutting it away from her body.
It peels back with a wet slap, and Gwen drops it on the floor.
“Cardi’s gone,” she says. “They beat her until she passed out and then took the twins. I think Khan was killed in front of Kelsy.” She sobs. Phoenix and Gwen exchange a look as they clean her wounds. “I ran. I didn’t know where I was going. I tried to go back to where Jewel told us to find her if anything went wrong. She said she’d wait a while before heading back. My arm…I fell. I got turned around, but I eventually found her and she set me up with someone she trusted to drive me back. Jewel stayed to see if she could find Kelsy.” She swipes her face angrily. “I don’t even know if she got out of there. I asked the driver to let me off at a station,” she says, looking at Phoenix. “And then I ran the last five or six miles. I saw the barn at the end of the street and found my way back. I’m sorry. I don’t think anyone saw me.”
Something flashes across Phoenix’s face, but then my attention turns to Gwen who lowers her head. I see her shoulders convulse in silent sobs. I rest a hand on the back of her neck. After a few minutes, she reaches back and places her hand on top of mine. Emotion washes over me so fast I almost walk out of the room. My feelings: I mostly keep them detached. They float outside of me until something other than me tugs the string and reels them in; that something is Gwen’s tears. Her skin is warm and her sobs feverish. Gwen is tied to Foley now. He’d be here if he could, if he knew what was happening. Something or someone is holding him back. She hasn’t talked much about what life was like in prison, but the bond between all of the girls has been apparent.
Phoenix puts her hand on Gwen’s back, her own eyes filling, but when Tahira cries harder, she shifts into action. “I need to reset your arm and put it in a splint.”
Tahira’s eyes widen. “You know how to do that?”
“I’ve had to do this before. Dancing, you know? I’ll be quick. I need to get a few things...” She waves me over.
“Get ready to hold her hand,” she says.
Within minutes, she’s back. She leans over and when she has everything in position, she moves the bone in place. It happens so quickly, Tahira barely has a chance to realize it’s already time for the splint.
Gwen wipes her face and looks on, impressed. Phoenix kicks it into another level of busy mode—fluffing pillows behind Tahira, rushing to the kitchen to give her water and the painkillers from the kit, covering her with a blanket.
“Are you sure you weren’t followed?” Gwen finally asks, reaching over and putting her hand on Tahira’s good arm.
“I don’t think so,” she says. “I kept watching out of the side mirror—nothing suspicious—and I waited until the woman pulled away after she dropped me off.”
“What was it like at the border?” I ask.
“It didn’t seem like there were many guards, but they had guns and these other weapons—I’d rather have a gun shoot me than be hit with those weapons.” She shudders.
“How old are you, Tahira?”
“Fifteen,” she whispers.
I try to control my reaction but have a hard time hiding the shock. Phoenix’s head jerks up and she sits down on the chair next to Tahira, looking stunned.
“Fifteen? What could you have possibly done to get you in a maximum security prison?”
“I tried to take what belonged to me.” Her lip trembling, she stares up at the ceiling, anything to avoid eye contact.
I exchange a look with Phoenix then glance at Gwen. She puts her arms around Tahira and comforts her, face mottled from her own emotion. She asks Tahira something under her breath and the girl nods.
When Gwen has regained her composure, she looks at me. “The Society has found another way to make money. They’re stealing the lottery births and selling them off to the highest bidder...and not just those babies—they’re stealing the underground births as well.”
“Underground births?” I repeat. “What do you mean?”
“Babies are being born in the underground and then kidnapped—”
“How are they getting away with—” I stop talking before my idiotic question can fall out of my mouth. I know what the Society is capable of; nothing should surprise me. They continue to destroy lives with no consequence. I put my fist over my mouth and ask exactly what’s nagging me. “Are some of the End Men complicit with this?” I go through each one and think about their strengths and weaknesses. As much as they annoy me, I can’t think of a single one who would be this cruel. “There’s not much more time left in a day to impregnate the underground too!” I shake my head. “What’s going on? How is this happening?”
“There are men, Jackal,” Gwen says. “They’ve been hiding as women for years.”
“The fuck?” I back up and sit down. Open my mouth and shut it. “You’ve met them?”
“I have,” Gwen says. “One of them helped Folsom leave the Regions.”
I guess it’s not that hard to believe. Nuclear accidents, hydrogen bombs, terrorist attacks—it became hard to keep track of everyone. Especially after the government was overthrown. For nearly twenty years the continent was in chaos. Why have I never heard about them before now? God, the Society has consumed my whole life. I look at Tahira.
“You got pregnant...by one of these...men?”
She nods.
“There are babies being born that have absolutely no connection to the End Men,” she says.
I shake my head, still in shock. I was told there were no more. I was told it was up to me, up to the twelve of us. Has it all been a lie?
“The government knows, they hunt the babies down and take them.” Tahira’s voice breaks and she closes her eyes for a moment before continuing. “I stayed hidden for most of my pregnancy. Someone turned me in. I don’t know who, but the Society has recruited people who work for them. They came and took my baby—my son—off of my chest in the middle of the night while we were sleeping. I ran after them, but they got in a car. They got away and I searched for my son for days…”
Her eyes squeeze shut and her shoulders shake with her sobs. She gulps and when she speaks it’s aimed at me, each word an effort to speak.
“One man’s privilege is another man’s sacrifice. Make sure you know what you’re fighting for.”
My eyes blur and the shame is
absolute. I feel injustice about the life I lead, while others are living a life of hiding and poverty, trying to protect their babies. How the fuck do I wrap my mind around this one? I wonder if Folsom knows about this.
Gwen speaks up then. “When we started talking about it in prison, many others shared similar stories. I’m certain the Society is behind it. We know they’re behind the lottery babies being sold. Everyone who pushes back is thrown in prison. The Society threatens their families. There are probably more who are too afraid to say anything and keep quiet to stay with their families. Or even in hopes of getting their babies back one day. It’s what kept me going while I was in there—getting my son back.”
Her Silverbook dings and a smile covers her face.
“Jewel is safe. She’ll be here soon.”
The girls hug each other and we have a moment of quiet.
Phoenix looks at me and the dread curls around my gut like a worm. I already know what she’s going to say.
“We need your help, Jackal. We have to stop this. I have a plan to get Rebel back.”
NINETEEN
PHOENIX
If ferrets don’t have sex once a year, they might actually die.
A few days later we sit around my kitchen table, a half-eaten cake between us. Gwen has her chin propped in her hand. Jewel is pinching the stray crumbs between her pointer finger and thumb. No one has said a word in the last five minutes, a record for Jackal who has been frowning at me the entire time. My plan isn’t so much a real plan as it is a rough draft. I was hoping they’d have more to say about it, but so far everyone is still in thinking mode.
“I can see why you gave us straight vodka,” Jewel says, breaking the silence. “Get us drunk fast and maybe none of this sounds like a fucking crazy idea.”
I glance at Jackal who is rubbing his jaw.
“It might work,” he says, nodding absently.
I feel a rush of gratitude. He is the last one I expected to go along with this.
“I’m coming with,” Gwen says. “No way am I waiting here while you go for my son.”
“You are absolutely not coming with,” Jackal says.
“Fuck you, Jackal,” she says. “You have no idea what this is like for me.”
“You’re right. I don’t. But if anything happens to you, I’ll have to answer to Foley.”
“Folsom would want me to get Rebel—”
Jackal cuts her off. “—Folsom would want you to stay safe. If something happens to you, who raises Rebel? Langley? Your sister? Worse yet, your mother and Petite?”
Gwen’s face visibly pales.
“You stay here.” He punctuates his sentence with a jabbing finger that he aims downward.
I take that to mean right here, in my house.
She nods.
I purse my lips, eyes wide. That went way better than I thought it would.
“If everything goes as planned with Sean, Phoenix and I will leave a week from tomorrow,” Jackal says.
“Why does she have to go with Sean? It seems risky to involve the fucking governor of the Blue,” Tahira argues. “Like...the fuck?”
“She can’t get the paperwork to leave the Region in time,” Jewel says. She spins her lighter on the table and we all watch it transfixed. “Not even I can get them forged in a week. I’d need at least ten days to put that in place.”
“Look, my only shot at getting to the Red is for the Governor’s Summit. They have their ball and I’ll go as Sean’s date. It’s the only way.”
“How do you know he’ll even take you? Maybe he has another date by now.” Gwen’s untouched piece of cake sits in front of her. She’s lost even more weight since arriving here. As a ballerina who’s suffered from eating disorders my entire life, I’m starting to get worried. She weighs less than me now—less than Tahira.
“He already asked me to go. I made an excuse and said no.” I glance at Jackal who is frowning for different reasons now. I feel terrible about leading Sean on—using him to get to the Red. Not only that, but if we’re caught, there will be repercussions for him—ones that will affect his career. I blow air from between my lips; Jackal sees and cocks his head to the side. I look away quickly lest he reads my thoughts.
“What’s your excuse for being there?” Gwen asks Jackal. She picks up her glass and raises it to her lips, but before she can take a sip, she sets it down again. “I mean, they don’t just let End Men leave their Region.”
“You’re right,” he says. “My mother lives in the Red. I had her put in her official request to see me. As the esteemed mother of an End Man, she gets two visitations with me a year, no questions asked. But it’s no exaggeration when I say we’re overdue a visit.”
I think of what Sean told me that day in the restaurant and my stomach clenches. How long has it been since he’s seen her? Do they keep in touch? There are a dozen questions I want to ask, but Jackal doesn’t know that I know about her.
“Do you...can you…?”
“I will go to the Red under the guise of visiting her,” he says. “See what I can find out…”
“Is that okay? I mean, do you really want to?”
“Visit my mother?” he asks, eyebrow raised. “I’d rather peel the skin from my body, but I’d do anything for Foley.”
My heart is being jerked every which way. I want to tell Jackal that he shouldn’t do something he’s not comfortable with, but this is the only way we can get to Rebel. We need information and Jackal is the only one I trust to get it.
Gwen grabs my arm and I look up at her, startled. “Phoenix, if anything happens to me—you’ll get Rebel to Folsom, won’t you?”
“Of course. I’ll do everything in my power. Nothing is going to happen to you, though. Understand?”
She pats my arm and picks up the dishes, carrying them to the sink.
If baby Rebel is a bad sleeper, our plan will be blown to shit. I focus on the areas I should go in...the kitchen or the study off of the kitchen. I study the layout of the Villanova house and hope to God the staff is a reasonable size. Having spent numerous summers and afternoons with the Starter girls at their estate, Gwen helps me draw up plans.
“The best way would probably be to go through the courtyard and along the lake. You come out here.” I lean in to see the map better. “But there’s also a side door here,” she says, pointing to a place on the map. “It leads to the upper garden. If you follow the path, you’ll come out in the woods behind the house.”
“Is there a way through the woods and to the road?”
“Yes, but it’s at least a mile and it’s rough terrain—tree roots and slopes. Langley’s sister broke her wrist playing back there when we were kids.”
“So we’ll make that plan C,” I say.
“What’s plan B?” Gwen asks.
“I’m still working on that.”
Jewel looks back and forth across all of us before laying her palms flat on the table and standing up.
“My part here is done. If you’ll excuse me.” She leaves through the back door.
“Gwen,” I say. I chew on my lip, unsure of how to continue. I’m bringing up a touchy subject matter. I don’t want to hurt her any more than she’s already been hurt.
“Do you have any idea why your mother would do what she did?”
Gwen’s voice is steady when she answers me. “As in betraying her daughter and handing her grandchild over to that bitch Langley?”
I grimace. “Yes...that.”
Gwen shrugs, her thin shoulders lifting all the way to her ears. She blinks rapidly, her eyes narrowing like she has a headache and her pain so evident I wish I could take back my question. I press my lips together and squeeze her arm.
“We had differences of opinion on things all the time. But, we’re family, so it was easy to move past that, keep our views to ourselves. To her, the End Men are doing their duty and serving the nation. She sees them as civil servants rather than human beings. Most people do, you know. I thought that too, until I
met Folsom. She believes what she’s doing is the right thing. Even by taking Rebel. In the end, she thought I’d gone crazy and she was protecting him from me. And she’s protecting the Regions by keeping him safe as a future End Man.”
“How do you think she feels about all of this now? Petite having you thrown in prison without a trial. The movement you started…”
“I can’t be sure. I thought I knew her. I was wrong. I thought I could make her see the truth, but she’s not able to see past what she’s always been told. She wanted me to be something else, and when I disappointed her, it was like she stopped being my mother.”
Gwen’s words hit me hard. I have two mothers like that. Granted, they’ve never sold me out, but I’ve never gone against them either.
“I’m glad we could all bond over our mommy issues,” Jackal says. “But we really need to head back to the city, Phoenix.”
“Not all mothers are shit,” Tahira says, ignoring Jackal. “Mine is exceptional. And you won’t be a shit mother when you get that little boy back,” she says the last part to Gwen who smiles weakly.
I stand up. My legs are tingling. I have pins and needles.
“All right. Here we go. Wish us luck, ladies,” I say to them.
“Luck,” Gwen and Tahira say at the same time.
Their eyes are bright as they lock hope on me. It’s a heavy thing to carry. I wonder how Gwen bears the load of the Regions when I feel so weighed down by her alone. We touch knuckles and then Jackal and I are out the door, heading for our separate cars.
“Phoenix!” he calls before I can round the house.
I turn to wait for him as he jogs over. Before I know what hits me, he’s pressing me against the side of the house, his body wedging between my legs. The brick digs painfully into my back, but for some reason, I don’t mind. I rest my hands on his biceps, unsure of where else to put them. Being this close to him makes me feel drunk. His size, the muscle beneath his shirt. I know exactly what he looks like naked and worse—what he looks like when he fucks.