Three

Billy turned on me. “So we’re just going to sit here and do nothing?”

  I lifted my hands in surrender, trying to tell him I was on the same side.

  Truck was dead. The fact hit me again like a ton of bricks.

  “You want to do something?” DeWitt’s voice grew soft. “Come with me.”

  For a second I thought I saw a flicker of fear flash in Billy’s eyes. I almost stopped him as he stalked past me to Three’s leader.

  “The rest of you, back to your posts,” said DeWitt. He snatched the radio from Chase’s hand and removed the batteries. “And the next man I catch stealing from our supply closet wins a permanent placement on latrine duty.”

  It was a punishment I’d heard before—Wallace had given it to Billy back at the Wayland Inn. I saw in the way Billy’s shoulders hunched that he was remembering the same thing.

  “Wait,” I said. “The team you sent after our people, are they back yet?”

  DeWitt paused, turning to face all those close by who were now awaiting his response.

  “If they were, you would know,” he said.

  I stared at his back as he walked away. Waiting, trusting a man I barely knew to take care of something we should have been dealing with ourselves left me unsettled.

  “Keep your ears open,” Chase said. “I’ll find you as soon as I can.”

  He left with the other fighters before I could tell him about the fallen post.

  * * *

  CHASE did not return to the dorms that evening, and neither did Billy nor Jesse. They might have been sent out to rescue the thirteen remaining prisoners, or back to the safe house wreckage to gather our injured. They might be doing a hundred different things helpful to the cause, while the rest of us were told there was nothing more we could do tonight.

  The top bunk was no wider than a cot, but without Chase it seemed too big and empty. It was the first night I’d spent without him since I’d been in the holding cells in Knoxville, a reminder that just made things worse. When I grew tired of staring at the door, I stared at the ceiling. But one by one the candles went out, and the conversations went quiet.

  The dreams were coming; I could feel their black, slippery fingers wrapping around the edges of my mind. Without Chase’s arms around me, there’d be nothing to stop them. So I pinched myself awake.

  My thoughts weren’t much better.

  I made myself sick wondering who of Tucker’s team had survived the attack on the post, and who had been tortured alongside Truck—or who was being tortured right now—but it was useless.

  The thought of Tucker dying for the resistance had me tossing and turning.

  In the bunk below me, Sean and Rebecca were talking in hushed tones. I hung my head over the side.

  “What do you know about the Chief of Reformation?” I demanded.

  Sean was lying on his back, Rebecca curled against his side. She didn’t look up at me, but tightened her grip around Sean’s waist.

  “Chancellor Reinhardt,” said Sean. “I know he’s hard to get to. People have been trying to take him out since the Reformation. He keeps a security detail around him all the time.”

  I rested my cheek against the side rail, feeling the cool metal against my skin.

  “He’s evil. He used to call for patients at the hospital to be brought to the base.” Rebecca paused. “When you came for me, I thought you might be with him. Before I saw that it was you, I mean.” Her voice was barely above a breath.

  The circus, Truck had called it in Chicago. Where they paraded the injured around to deter others from breaking the rules. A sour taste formed in the back of my mouth. That Rebecca had ever been subjected to that fear made me hate Chancellor Reinhardt even more.

  “Do you think the prisoners are back in Chicago?” I asked. But they must not have heard me, because Sean had turned on his side and was whispering something I couldn’t make out. I drew back, feeling distinctly like I was intruding on something private.

  After a while I heard Rebecca giggle, a sound that pulled me momentarily from my thoughts. Then her breath caught and hitched, and the mattress groaned as their weight shifted.

  I covered my ears.

  Time seemed to stall. Each minute felt like an hour. After a while even Rebecca and Sean grew quiet. Too restless to wait for news any longer, I decided to take my chances with Rocklin.

  Carefully, I climbed down the ladder, placing my feet, still in their boots, on the floor. The creak of the frame made me cringe, but no one around me moved.

  On the bottom bunk Rebecca slept with her head on Sean’s shoulder, and I was reminded of a long time ago when she’d been the one sneaking out of the reformatory, and I’d been trying to follow.

  Holding my breath, I tiptoed down the row, freezing every time someone shifted or murmured in their sleep. When I reached the door, I glanced out quickly, expecting to find Rocklin posted outside, but the entryway was clear. The torches on the path had been extinguished, and with only the moon to guide me, I sprinted around the back of the building. The trees were a quarter mile away, glowing a pale silver and swaying ever so slightly in the breeze. From beneath their curtain, a gravel road emerged, connecting to the cafeteria.

  My heart was pounding. I didn’t know where I was going, and if I did find the fighters, I didn’t know how to find Chase among them.

  A shadow crawled over the moon, and without further delay I carved through the untamed grass toward the trees. It would have been easier to take the road, but I didn’t want to get caught—which was stupid, of course. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong. They wouldn’t stop me from seeing Chase.

  I slowed, then stopped, and stared up at the sky.

  Things were supposed to make sense once we got here. We’d finally stopped running. This was a place where we were protected, where we could dig in and fight back. Instead I was dodging guards while people I’d fought beside died at the MM’s hand.

  I crossed the tree line; the branches formed a canopy overhead, and the dried leaves crunched beneath each step. The way opened suddenly into a clearing where the moonlight, unobstructed by the trees, highlighted small wooden crosses jutting up from the ground in neat lines.

  I’d stumbled upon a cemetery. My skin began to crawl, and instinctively I took a few steps back.

  Beyond the cemetery, down a long hill, flickered the flames from half a dozen bonfires. As I crept around the perimeter toward them, people became visible, moving to and from a row of storage units. To the right was a tall wooden fence, and as I squinted to where it disappeared into the dark distance I could barely make out what looked like a dozen FBR cruisers and several more military vans and trucks. Enough to transport a hundred soldiers or more.

  I turned back to the storage units, surmising from the lack of other options that this was where the soldiers slept. There were enough people moving around that I thought I might be able to blend in without much notice. I was just about to exit the trees when a noise to my right made me freeze.

  To my right was a rickety wooden toolshed slightly removed from the graveyard that I hadn’t seen earlier. A guard stood outside, a rifle held ready across his chest. The twitch in his shoulder and nervous toss of his hair was too familiar. What Billy could possibly be doing out here in the middle of the night triggered my curiosity.

  As I watched, another figure appeared in the doorway. The lean hips and straight shoulders identified him as male, but the fires were on the opposite side of the camp, and the shadows hid his face. He disappeared within, and then reappeared, and without a word to Billy headed straight toward me, cutting through the cemetery. He stopped at the last cross in the line and placed one hand gently on the wood.

  I ducked as low as I could and held my breath. If I ran now I’d be seen.

  A few seconds later another man came from the woods, moving quietly, but with purpose. More imposing with his height and muscular chest, he stopped at the edge of the woods, out of view from the shed. For a moment I felt a sharp need to cal
l out a warning, but then the first man turned away from the grave marker and joined him, clearly having expected his arrival.

  It was as good a time as any to make a quick exit, but something inside urged me to follow, and soon I was stooping behind a thicket of brush, ten feet away. The crosses watched over silently, the only witness to my eavesdropping.

  “It’s not going to jeopardize the mission. We’ve already verified what the girl said. A quick extraction, that’s all we’re talking about.”

  The slighter man had to be DeWitt; I recognized his voice but not the anxiety behind it. The second man responded with something I couldn’t make out, though I strained my ears to catch it. As far as I could tell there were only two people, not the whole council that Three’s leader had spoken of earlier.

  I felt sure he was talking about sending a team out to rescue the prisoners. Still, I didn’t know what other mission he spoke of, or what girl had given him information that would need to be verified. My mind raced through everything I’d told him, just in case.

  “The injuries could be substantial,” argued DeWitt.

  I was reminded of our injured, left at the mini-mart miles up the coast. Hopefully they could hold on until we could reach them.

  “There’s still time. Please. I thought you of all people would understand.” I held my breath as DeWitt’s voice rose. A shadow paced in front of the door and I ducked lower, the sharp leaves of the bush cutting into my hands.

  This wasn’t the DeWitt I recognized from the radio room, or the one who had addressed his people this morning. Something had scared him. I wondered again who he was speaking to that had such control, and why anything he did required asking permission.

  A second later a branch broke beneath my hand and both voices paused. Wincing, I crawled backward, behind a tree, but the two men were now coming my way. My heart was hammering. DeWitt already suspected me of having something to do with the fallen resistance posts. If he caught me sneaking around outside a meeting, he would never believe I was innocent.

  “Did you hear that?” DeWitt asked.

  I didn’t wait another second. I turned and ran straight back to the dorms.

  CHAPTER

  11

  EARLY morning found us packed inside the cafeteria. The council was convening before breakfast and we were summoned to hear an important announcement. After Tucker’s last report, and the radio broadcast of Truck’s death, I couldn’t help but feel nervous waiting with the others. If ever Three would respond, the time was now.

  I stood in the back near the exit beside Rebecca. Not everyone was accounted for; the children had been gathered and taken to the south wing, and Sean and some of the field workers had been summoned early to pack rations for some team heading to the interior. None of the fighters had come from the camps below. I kept my eyes pinned on the door, wanting to be the first to see Chase should he arrive.

  The rain that had begun late in the night had yet to let up. It came in a constant sheet, dripping through the roof in a dozen different places. A familiar uneasiness spread through my muscles. Even with so many absent, this many people packed close together could not be safe.

  Finally, Ms. Rita, Panda, and the man with the red hair who’d captured us in the grove arrived and sat behind a long table erected near the entrance to the kitchen. Dr. DeWitt followed closely behind them and even from across the room his exhaustion was apparent. He rubbed both hands over the stubble of his jaw and nodded to someone standing in the front.

  “I feel bad for him,” Rebecca whispered. “You know his family was killed by the MM.”

  “I know he supposedly killed a bunch of soldiers,” I said.

  Rebecca lowered her voice. “It was a routine inspection. Word is things got out of hand when the soldiers found the Article Violators hiding in their basement. The wife and daughter tried to run, and…”

  “And…” I prompted, leaning close so that no one standing nearby could hear.

  “They didn’t make it. So the doctor, you know, finished it. Not without a fight though. That’s how he got all the scars on his face.”

  Rumors usually only had bits of truth, if any at all, but what Rebecca had heard seemed possible.

  I twisted my necklace around my finger, thinking of my own arrest. If Chase hadn’t been there, I might not even still be alive. I closed the memories from my mind and scanned each of the other council members’ faces and figures, trying to determine who DeWitt had met last night. None of them were right. The other person had obviously been male; Panda was too short, and the redhead was too thin. The only other person I knew was missing on the council was the old man with the eye patch, and he didn’t fit either.

  “All right,” started DeWitt. He raised his hands and the room silenced. “In light of recent events, we’re suspending all regular business for the present time.”

  I found myself looking for Billy, and wondering again what he’d been guarding by the cemetery last night.

  “Another of our posts was attacked yesterday, making three in this week alone,” continued DeWitt. “Prisoners were taken. Our sources tell us that in a little over two weeks, the Chief of Reformation plans to celebrate this series of victories with a party at the Charlotte base. It will be his first public appearance since his unfortunate recovery last month.”

  A grumble rose from the audience—it was a sick man who celebrated the deaths of others by throwing a party. As voices lifted in anger, a memory from the Wayland Inn came to the forefront of my mind: gathering around a radio while we learned of an assassination attempt on the Chief of Reformation’s life. It had been the first time I’d heard about Three.

  DeWitt raised his arms to silence the crowd.

  “It will also be our first public appearance. As we speak, our teams are already being deployed to Charlotte, as well as other key FBR bases, to await instructions. The details of this mission will be kept highly confidential until our people reach their destination so as not to put anyone at unnecessary risk. In addition, we’ll observe a radio silence effective immediately to limit the chances the FBR will receive any outgoing signals. Incoming transmissions will continue to be monitored.”

  The air in the room grew thick and heavy, and soon I realized I hadn’t breathed in too long. I gasped shallowly, one thought alone burning into my mind.

  Chase.

  DeWitt was planning on sending him into a warzone. He might already be gone. I needed to find him. Find him and figure out what we would do next—run, or hide, or fight with the others. Whatever it was, we would do it together. I would not let him go again.

  A cold hand gripped mine and I turned to meet Rebecca’s bright blue eyes.

  “It’s going to be fine,” she said. “It can’t be as bad as it sounds.”

  The room had succumbed to whispers, but squeaking boots behind us rose over the sound.

  “What’d I miss?” Sean shook the water out of his hair with one hand. His other arm was still strapped in a sling, reminding me of Chase’s part in his assignment to the gardens.

  “Tough crowd,” he said when we didn’t answer. “Great. Someone died, didn’t they?”

  I tried to force the implications of the council’s orders from my mind, but I couldn’t. People would die—Three’s people. They’d be slaughtered; I’d seen the census numbers for the base yesterday in the radio room. Thousands against a couple of hundred. Though I wanted vengeance, an attack didn’t make sense. There were simply too many of them and too few of us.

  “Quiet!” called DeWitt. “We’re taking volunteers—anyone nonessential to our daily operations here.” He paused, and Ms. Rita put a hand on his shoulder. “This is the moment we’ve been waiting for. You chose this life. You know the reasons that led you down our path. We’re asking you to remember those reasons now.”

  My gaze turned to Panda unconsciously, drifting down the names listed on his forearm.

  “This is suicide,” I said aloud. Those closest glared in my direction. I didn??
?t care. Let them think what they wanted. The Three I’d heard spoken of in whispered rumors, both worshipped and feared by the resistance, was invincible. They made smart decisions. They weren’t going to lead a revolution by becoming martyrs.

  “We don’t know the whole plan,” said Rebecca. “Dr. DeWitt said the details are being kept a secret. Chase and his uncle probably know more.”

  Her words calmed me a little. She was right. DeWitt had alluded there was more to this mission than just the attack. I was already heading for the exit when Sean grabbed my forearm.

  “Wait,” he said. He removed a folded piece of paper from his pocket and shoved it into my hand. “Read it later.”

  I placed it into my pocket, barely giving it a second thought. The only thing on my mind was finding Chase. As long as he hadn’t already left without me.

  * * *

  The mud splashed up my legs as I ran down the gravel road that disappeared into the woods. In the daylight, even with the drizzle, the fighters’ beige tents could be seen peeking through the brush and spindly gray branches, heavy with drooping moss.

  Chase had to be there. He couldn’t have left without telling me. Even considering it made me sick.

  As the road declined I glanced back and saw Rocklin in the distance emerging from the cafeteria with his hands on his hips. I didn’t wait to see if he followed.

  This time I stuck to the dirt road that cut through the trees, avoiding the cemetery and the shed where I’d seen Billy. All at once, the woods opened to reveal the camp I’d seen only from a distance the previous night. The rain pinged off the metal tops of the storage units. The fires were now extinguished, but now the fields that stretched between the road and the parking lot of stolen MM cars were alive with movement. The fighters—both men and women—were in a state of controlled chaos. Some were crowded at tables beneath the lean-tos, assembling weapons. Others were in lines for haircuts, given beneath a striped tent. Many of the women already wore Sisters of Salvation outfits, while the men were in various combinations of MM uniforms. Still others were dressed in street clothes. One guy jogged by in a navy flack jacket with his cropped Endurance pants beneath. He didn’t seem to notice me.