Viggo guided me to the handrail and helped me over it. I felt shaky, just like when I had done this over a week ago, when I had disarmed the explosives, and I questioned the wisdom of what we were doing once again. But then I thought of those boys and what was at stake, and slowly lowered myself down, surrendering my weight to the rope as Viggo pressed a knee into the winch.
I heard the soft whir of the machine as it lowered me, and focused my gaze on my hands gripping the rope, trying not to think of the darkness below. As I descended, I slowly let go of the rope with one hand, reaching into my pocket to pull out a small shielded light that I had also pilfered from the supply closet.
Clicking the button, I carefully angled my body around until I was facing the wall that was between me and the service station, keeping my gaze steadily fixed on it. I counted the bolt holes that had been punched in the concrete, using them as a distraction to keep my mind from the gaping abyss ready to swallow me up.
The seconds crept by, turning into a minute, and then two, when my descent finally came to a stop. I shivered, trying to think of anything but what Viggo was about to do.
I felt the rope shudder under my hands and resisted the urge to cry out. The rope creaked ominously, and I felt myself swing. I leaned my body weight forward slightly, steadying myself and the rope.
After a few seconds, I gasped as the rope gave a little, and then sucked a deep breath in, realizing that it was just Viggo letting off the slack he needed when he’d tied the rope.
I gazed up and saw the dark blurry shape of his head as he looked down. He held out his hand and I raised my own, shining my light behind it so he could see.
I heard the faint sounds of his footsteps followed by the creaking of wheels as he made his way to Tim’s cell, and I exhaled. I let go of the rope with one hand, reaching into my other pocket and pulling out the earbud, realizing I should have put it on sooner.
Then there was nothing to do but wait. Viggo was in the process of giving Tim the transmitter, showing him how to turn it on and off. I doubted Desmond would think to sweep the boys for transmitters, but just in case she did, Viggo would explain to Tim what to do and how to handle it.
I tried to keep calm, but without something to focus on, it was difficult. The dark was terrifying, even my little flashlight wasn’t enough to keep it at bay. As I stared through it, I got the distinct impression of a predatory beast, circling tightly, waiting for any opportunity to strike.
I closed my eyes. Okay, Violet. You’re dangling from a rope with no secondary line above a black pit, about to spy on a woman who may or may not be trying to manipulate some children for nefarious reasons. You’ve got this, right?
Just then I heard the pitter-patter of feet, light and soft, barely detectable on the catwalk, and breathed a sigh of relief. It would only be a few more minutes before Tim turned on the transmission. I could hold on for that long, and once the transmission was happening, I could use that as a distraction.
Although it was less than five minutes, it felt like I had been hanging there for an eternity. I was almost convinced that the transmitter wasn’t able to penetrate this amount of concrete when I heard a sharp burst of feedback in my ear, causing me to jerk in surprise.
The rope creaked again, and goosebumps erupted on my skin as Desmond’s voice started coming through the microphone, loud and clear.
“All right my darlings, sit down, sit down. Do you have all of your candy?” she crooned in a way that I had never heard before.
There was a round of affirmative words before she continued. “Now, does anyone have any questions as to the reading I gave you last night?”
A jumble of voices followed her question, presumably from the boys all clamoring at once. “Calm down, one at a time. Antoine?”
“What’s a threat?” came a tiny, slightly nervous sounding voice.
“That’s an excellent question—a threat is someone or something that can hurt you. Who’s next? Cody?”
The earbud fell silent for a second.
“The pamphlet said that if Matrus or Patrus ever found us, they would want to experiment on us again. Is that… true?”
“Unfortunately, it is very true, Cody. I know this because I used to be a spy for Matrus. And in my time, I learned that there was no stopping people in power from using other people to keep their power. Make no mistake boys, for all the harm that Matrus has caused you, Patrus would do the same.”
“I don’t understand why we don’t just join up with Patrus,” came a small shout. “They don’t like Matrus, and neither do we. Maybe we can become… friends.”
“That’s a good suggestion, Peter, except… Patrus would never accept you. You’re born of a Matrian. They rarely let males from one side move to another.”
“But we could fight Matrus! And then take it!”
I could practically feel Desmond’s smile through the earbud. “I admire your spirit, Stephan, but it’s not that easy. Patrus would want control of Matrus… they wouldn’t want to give it to you.”
“Well, what should we do?” asked a new voice.
“What do you want to do?” replied Desmond.
There was some murmuring, and then another boy spoke up. “What do you think we should do, Des?”
I frowned at the intimate use of her nickname, something she only let a handful of people use. The entire conversation thus far was making me uncomfortable. I mean… she wasn’t lying to the boys, but she was painting a pretty grim picture of their reality. I wasn’t sure they needed so much harsh truth this soon.
“Well, I can’t tell you what to do,” she replied. There was a slight pause before her next sentence stopped me cold. “But I can tell you what I plan to do. If you’d like to know.”
A chorus of shouts encouraged her to tell them, and her warm chuckle filled the air. “All right, calm down. Imagine you’re a mouse,” she started and I squeezed my eyes closed and grimaced.
I listened to her give the exact same scenario she had pitched to me to the boys. But instead of being appalled and thoughtful like I had been, the boys reacted to it very differently.
“Wow, Des,” chimed in Cody’s voice. “You’re really smart!”
There were loud sounds of agreements and I exhaled, resting my forehead against the rope. Of course the boys liked her scenario, they had no concept of what war meant in terms of human life.
I felt the rope jerk under my hands and panicked for a moment, thinking that the line was about to snap. I pulled back my sleeve and checked my watch. Had twenty minutes flown by so fast? I was shocked to see that it had.
The rope vibrated with tension and I clamped my teeth shut to keep from making a noise. Not that I thought Desmond could hear me through all this concrete. I just didn’t want to take the risk of alerting someone else.
The line jerked again and then I felt myself begin to rise in the air. I kept myself focused on Desmond’s voice answering questions and reminding the boys that if they wanted to help her, all they had to do was ask, and felt a roil of nausea that wasn’t exclusively related to my fear of heights. As I neared the top, I risked a peek and saw Viggo already leaning over the edge, his right hand outstretched.
I knew better than to reach for it—it could make me start to swing—and just held on tight. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt as I reached the top, hauling me up a few inches so I could grab the top bar of the handrail. I slowly climbed up and over, his hand on my arm to prevent me from falling.
Once my feet were firmly planted on the other side, I looked up at him and shook my head while his hands were fast at work, unclipping the rope from the carabiners.
“It’s bad, Viggo,” I breathed. “She’s carefully eliminating all hope of them having somewhere to go, then graciously allowing them to join the Liberators, if they ‘choose’ to. Except that it’s no choice at all, given the way she’s talking about Matrus and Patrus.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Viggo said as he carefully coiled up the rope. “Why would they fall f
or that so easily?”
I opened my mouth to respond that they were children who didn’t know better, and then stopped, reminded of the fact that they weren’t all children. Most of them were traumatized young adults, betrayed by the system. So why were they being so agreeable with Desmond?
“I don’t know,” I finally said. “But all she did was ask if they all got some candy and then got right down to discussion.”
Viggo threw the rope over his shoulder. “All right… I’m going to get this back to supply and see if I can’t check out one of those suits,” he whispered. “You get to your brother and wait for me there.”
I stared at the door a few feet away. “What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I’m going to go into Desmond’s office and see if I can find proof.”
“Proof of what? She’s just talking to them.”
He nodded. “And giving them candy. All of them. Has your brother been eating it?”
My jaw slackened. “I-I don’t know. I don’t think so—he doesn’t like her.”
“Good. I think she might be drugging them.”
“With what?”
Viggo shook his head. “I don’t know. Something that makes them more compliant. Willing to listen and accept.”
“Viggo…” I said, feeling extremely doubtful.
He set his hands on my shoulders and gazed deep into my eyes, his own glowing intensely. “Violet, I know these boys. They question everything. Aggressively.”
“Okay,” I said. “But then what’s your play?”
Viggo picked up the handle to the wagon and started walking, and I followed. “If I can find tangible proof, I’ll bring it to the rest of the Liberators,” he said. “If we can get them on our side, they’ll oust her as the leader.”
I gulped, but felt a faint glimmer of hope. “Then I hope you find it,” I whispered. I moved up next to him and pressed my lips against his rough cheek. “Good luck,” I said as I moved down one the aisles, heading for my brother’s cell.
33
Viggo
I carefully made my way to the supply room, a small area off to the side of the training room, originally designed to be an observation post. Knocking on the door, I gave Lynne a friendly smile as she looked up at me.
“Hey, just returning the equipment we borrowed,” I lied casually.
Lynne nodded and stood up from her chair, picking up a clipboard on the side of the wall. “That didn’t take long,” she commented, as she held out the clipboard.
I accepted the pen she handed me. “Yeah, Violet isn’t big on heights. She just thought it would be good if I was familiar with it, in case the need ever came up.”
Lynne’s head bobbed up and down in agreement. “Yeah. It’s smart. We get a lot of cross-training over here.”
“It’s a really good idea,” I said as I signed my name with a flourish. “Speaking of which, I was wondering if I could check out one of the camouflage suits. I really need more practice now that Dr. Tierney has given me the go-ahead.”
Her eyes drifted down to my chest and then flicked back up. “I wasn’t aware that she had,” she said, smiling.
“Just the other day, actually. I think you were off duty.”
“Tuesday? Oh… I traded shifts so I could try to spend more time with my brother,” she said.
I watched as she went over to the rack of suits hanging on the back wall, checking the sizes. After a moment, she walked over and set it on the table in the middle of the room.
I walked closer, dropping the two lines of rope I was carrying into the bin. I then moved over to the opposite side of the table and waited patiently. I watched her write down the inventory number, as well as my name and the date and time in very neat handwriting on the piece of paper on the clipboard. When she was done, she turned the clipboard around. “Just sign,” she said brightly.
I signed my name a second time, and then gathered the suit in my hands. “Thanks” I said, holding it up as a farewell.
She smiled again, a dimple forming in her cheeks. “Don’t mention it,” she said, her voice suddenly lower and huskier, catching me off guard.
I gave her a surprised look, and she threw me a long slow wink before moving deeper into the office. I shook my head and suppressed a smirk, hoping that Violet never found out that Lynne had a thing for me. I couldn’t imagine a jealous Violet, and I certainly didn’t want to.
Heading for the locker room, I checked my watch. I had just enough time to get changed and make it to Desmond’s office before she finished her pow-wow, according to Tim’s timeline.
I quickly changed and then headed to the stairs, moving upward. I didn’t regret lying to Lynne about Dr. Tierney giving me the go-ahead on the suit, I just wished I had more than Violet’s description of how to make it work. It felt… too easy in some way.
Then again, for a man recovering from heart damage, I really hoped that whatever electrical surge she had described wouldn’t aggravate my condition. I maybe should’ve let Violet do this part, but it was too late to go back now.
Pulling the door closed behind me, I checked the stairwell and decided to give the suit a little test run. Carefully tensing my muscles, immediately I felt the pins and needles that Violet had described. I quickly relaxed my muscles, shaking out my arms and legs.
That was… intense.
I placed two fingers on my pulse and looked at my watch. It was elevated… but not too high. I gave a few more experimental tenses, smiling as I saw the stairs through my hands, and then relaxed again. Violet had also said that maintaining the suit for a long period of time was extremely difficult, so I needed to save my energy for that.
I headed up the stairs. Once I reached the top, I spun the hand wheel gently, grateful that it was well-oiled, and then pushed it open an inch at a time, checking the gap to make sure it was clear.
Luckily, it was so late that all of the scientists were gone—in bed or otherwise indisposed. I stepped through and quietly pulled the door closed behind me. I knew it would close itself, but I wanted to control it.
I made my way across the lab and into Desmond’s office, sifting through the papers on her desk, skimming the documents for something—anything—that would help me convince the others that Desmond was not acting in the best interests of the boys.
There was nothing there. Blowing out, I put the files down and looked around the room. She wouldn’t be using the computer—it was still tied into the Matrian system, and she had ordered them all to be shut down after the bomb incident.
Maybe her handheld? I looked around her desk, shifting some of the files around. Nothing. Gritting my teeth, I opened the drawers on her desk and nearly gave a jump for joy when I found it. Activating it, I quickly pulled out my own handheld and started to jack them together when I heard the distinct sound of footsteps, heading toward me from the stairwell.
I hurriedly set her handheld back in the drawer and closed it while tucking mine back into the pocket in my forearm. Then I moved off to the corner and clenched my muscles, watching the lab through the window-walls of the office.
Desmond appeared, walking at a slow, steady pace. I watched as she entered the room, crossed to the desk to grab some files, and then walked out, retreating the way she had come. I kept my muscles tense and moved cautiously toward the drawer where her handheld still was. If I could just reach it…
Then came the slow, deliberate sound of a gun cocking.
I stalled, turning back to the door.
Desmond was standing there, staring back at me. Her lips were twisted in a disturbing smile, the rest of her face hidden behind goggles that were a familiar hue of red, indicating thermal scanning. A stab of frustration coursed through me as I slowly raised my hands and faced her and her pistol.
34
Violet
Tim’s eyes were wide as I quickly explained our plan to him. I expected him to balk or show at least some doubt, but after I’d finished, he nodded, his eyes alive.
“
It’s… a good plan,” he whispered, stroking Samuel’s fur.
I stood up, feeling nervous, but also confident. Once we had evidence on Desmond, things would be better. And who knew, maybe whoever succeeded her would let us continue to work with them. I had really come to like the people here and would hate to have to leave like this.
I started to check my watch for the umpteenth time, when I heard crackles that sounded like a microphone coming in over speakers.
Then I heard the distinctive sound of Desmond’s voice, rich with disdain, like sugared venom. “Violet Bates,” she announced. “I would like to invite you to meet me in the training room. That is… if you’d ever like to see your precious boyfriend again.”
The icy hand of fear crept down my spine, but then I felt a bolt of pure annoyance. I let out a bitter laugh, startling Tim. He gave me a look of concern, but I waved it off, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Sorry, Tim,” I said after the moment of laughter had passed. “It’s just… we’re never going to be those people who get to sit in the spectators’ stands, y’know?”
Tim thought about it a second, and then smirked back at me. “Nope,” he agreed. “But… not boring.”
“Not boring,” I muttered as I weighed my options. Given Desmond’s message, she wasn’t likely to give me a lot of time to do much. I looked at Tim, who was watching me closely, his face shark-like in anticipation. I rubbed my temples. The options weren’t good. I needed to get to the training room.
But Tim didn’t. Neither did Ms. Dale. If I could just get them out, maybe even using the dreaded ventilation system to help get them past Desmond and the Liberators, then they stood a chance. Viggo and I would have to find some other clever means of escape.
“Tim—you need to get Ms. Dale and run. Use the ventilation shafts to move if worst comes to very worst and keep heading up. You have to go down to that room again, and then follow the other hall. There’s a ladder that will take you up.”