Chapter Four
Twenty minutes later, the hoverplane touched down in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. The medics and Erik deplaned as the wheels were still skimming the grassy runway. They were already hurrying him towards a large tent with a white cross by the time I made my way down the gangplank. I started to run after them, but Frederick stopped me.
“Have a little faith, Tal,” he said quietly. “Those guys are good at what they do.”
“You should get those looked at. They might need stitches,” I replied, pointing to the shiny red marks on his cheeks.
“I put some disinfectant on them. They’ll heal on their own,” he responded dismissively.
Several feet away, Crane and Brand were arguing in low, heated voices. Crane was insisting Brand take the rest of the soldiers and return to the cottage in California. Brand didn’t want to leave Crane here unprotected. A quick glimpse into Crane’s mind told me the Underground stations held mostly civilians. While most, this one included, had weapons arsenals, few of the residents were trained in combat. We’d be sitting ducks if TOXIC attacked.
I surveyed the landscape. Green, brown, and beige tents were interspersed among tall trees. The area was extremely rural and, judging by the thin air, located in the mountains. The tents were likely supposed to be camouflaged to blend into the surrounding nature. Except like many remote areas of the country, Gatlinburg still bore the effects of the Great Contamination. The tree bark was knobby and black, the leaves a vibrant, almost neon, green-yellow. The ground was thickly packed dirt, with swatches of spiky, blue grass sprinkled throughout. The blades looked sharp as razors, and I made a mental note not to walk around barefoot.
“Talia?” a startled voice asked, pulling me from the haze.
I turned. The guy walking towards me began to jog with a pronounced limp. His legs were so long that he covered the distance in seconds. My heart grew wings that fluttered in my chest: Henri. Alive, safe, and not permanently damaged.
“Henri!” I threw my arms around his neck, and buried my face in his thin shirt. He wrapped his long arms protectively around me, making me feel truly safe for the first time in a long time. Relief washed over me as I squeezed him tighter. I’d been so worried about Erik that, after Frederick informed me that Henri was alive, I didn’t fret too much over his well-being.
Henri released me much too soon. When he put me down, he was no longer looking at me, but rather over me. A smile slowly spread across his drawn face, the dimness in his brown eyes disappeared. He’d obviously seen Frederick.
“What are you guys doing here?” Henri called to his boyfriend.
Frederick, trailed by Crane and an irate Brand, joined us. Henri and Frederick embraced, both boys seeming to relax now that they were together. Crane came to stand firmly by my side; he was careful not to get so close that we touched. Brand crossed his arms over his chest, thrust one foot forward, and refused to look at me. He looked like a child who’d been scolded instead of Crane’s second in command. It was immature, particularly at that moment, but I had to work to suppress a giggle.
“We needed a decent medical facility and this was the closest one,” Crane answered Henri.
When Henri and Frederick drew apart, Henri looked weary. He rose to his full height, which was quite impressive, and his muscles tensed. Frederick placed a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. The gesture was meant to calm him, but had little effect on Henri.
“You can trust him,” Frederick said in a low voice.
Well, that answered one question, I thought. Henri had no idea the true nature of Frederick’s job. This made me feel a little better. At least I wasn’t the only one who’d been left in the dark. Then again, I hoped the omission didn’t ruin their relationship like it nearly had mine and Frederick’s. Trust was vital in any relationship, and Frederick had clearly violated Henri’s. Now more than ever, they needed each other.
“What are you doing here with him?” Henri demanded, shrugging Frederick’s hand off. “Frederick, what the hell is going on?”
Okay, so maybe this wasn’t going to go as smoothly as I’d hoped.
I stepped forward; the last thing we needed was a scene. “Henri, why don’t we go sit down and talk about this?” The calm tone in my voice surprised even me. I wasn’t prone to being rational, and after the past week, I was shocked that I had the capacity to act so now.
Henri backed away, looking disgustedly between me and his boyfriend. Frederick reached for him, but Henri swatted at his hand, accusation and hurt mingling in his brown eyes.
“I need some air,” Henri declared, despite the fact that we were surrounded by nothing but fresh air. He turned on his heel, and practically ran for the wooded area surrounding the clearing.
Both Frederick and I moved to go after him.
“Let him go,” Crane said quietly. “He needs time to come to terms with everything before you drop another bombshell.
Frederick started to protest, but I cut him off. “He’s right. It’s a lot to take in.”
“Besides,” Crane continued. “We need to make a plan right now. Brand, you take all the soldiers except for Talia, Frederick, and Janelle. We’ll stay here until Erik is strong enough to travel, then we’ll meet up with you at the cottage.”
Incredulity distorted Brand’s features, and he opened his mouth to make what was certain to be an argument. Crane held up one hand, halting the words in Brand’s throat.
“That’s an order, Soldier,” Crane said, his voice pure authority.
My eyes ping ponged between Crane and Brand. They looked like two unmovable bookends, Frederick and I trapped between their blockades. I wondered how close their relationship really was. I couldn’t imagine that just any soldier would challenge Crane’s authority, yet Brand was openly doing so. Their staring contest reminded me of the battle of wills that had been going on between me and Mac for years.
“Affirmative, Mr. President,” Brand finally spat.
“Dismissed, Meadows,” Crane said.
As if to prove a point – no clue to who – Brand remained where he was for a pregnant moment before spinning on his heel and stalking off towards the planes.
“Why don’t you two find the Station Manager and make sleeping arrangements?” Crane suggested after a long silence where the three of us stood staring at one another.
“I want to be there when Erik wakes up,” I protested.
After the way Henri had reacted to Crane, I needed to be there to explain. The last thing I wanted was for Erik to wake up among strangers and believe he’d traded one captor for another. God forbid he tried to strangle another one of Crane’s medical staff. Once was excusable, given the circumstances. A second time? Well, that might not go over so well.
“The best thing you can do right now is get some rest. You haven’t slept in what? Twenty-four hours?”
Longer, I thought. It felt like years since I’d had a good night’s sleep.
“I’ll personally come find you the minute he regains consciousness,” Crane promised as if sensing I was about to put up a fight.
I sighed. I really was exhausted. “Okay,” I agreed.
Frederick and I set off in search of the Station Manager. We found Walter Gains in a large beige tent in the center of a cluster of smaller tents. He was sitting at a makeshift table in one corner, surrounded by loose papers, and typing furiously on a portable communicator. His bald head shot up when we entered.
“Ah, Frederick,” he said, “are you the source of all the commotion?” Oversized wire-rimmed glasses slid down his pointy nose as he spoke. He pushed them back into place only to have them slide down again a second later.
“Hey, Walt. Yeah, sorry we had to make an emergency landing. One of the men we freed from Tramblewood is in pretty bad shape. The medics thought it best to stop here and get him patched up before returning to Coalition territory.”
I shot Frederick a surprised glance. I hadn’t realized our rescue mission was public knowledge.
“Sorry to hear that. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. Were you followed?”
“Briefly. The fighter planes were able to neutralize the situation before we were too far from the prison,” Frederick said tightly.
Translation: the fighters had shot them down. I shuddered. More dead TOXIC Operatives. I prayed Donavon hadn’t been among them.
“I see,” was all Walter said and returned his attention to the communicator.
Frederick cleared his throat, drawing Walter away from his work for a second time. “This is Natalia.” Frederick jerked his head in my direction. Water’s thin eyebrows shot up, and he didn’t try to conceal his surprise when he finally took the time to look me up and down.
“Lots of people looking for you, Ms. Lyons,” he said.
I gave him a tight smile. “I know, sir. I don’t want to cause any trouble for you or the others here. I’ll be gone as soon as Erik is stable.” I really didn’t want to draw TOXIC forces to the station. Enough people had died today already, and the sun had yet to rise.
“This organization is devoted to helping people like you. I, and the other people who live here, are accustomed to risk. Every day that passes without a TOXIC raid is a success in my book. You’re welcome here as long as necessary.”
I gave him a more genuine smile this time, relieved he hadn’t insisted I leave immediately. His generosity reminded me of Adam – the Station Manager at the Underground stop in the tunnels beneath D.C. – and I wondered how he and his people were faring since my departure.
“Thank you,” I told Walter sincerely.
Feet shuffled on the dirt floor behind me, followed by the rustle of canvass as the tent flap opened. I whipped my head around, and watched as Crane entered.
“Conductor Gaines,” he greeted Walter with a quick nod of his head.
“Mr. President,” Walter replied respectfully.
“Talia,” Crane said, turning his attention to me. “There is someone who would like to see you.”
Relief washed over me, causing my muscles to become limp as wet noodles. Erik was awake. “Oh, thank god!” I exclaimed. My feet were already in motion when Crane held up his hand in warning.
“Not so fast. It isn’t Erik.” The bubble of hope in my stomach burst. “I think you’ll be happy to see this person, though.”
I stared at him quizzically. Who would I possibly know at an Underground station in Tennessee? Let alone be happy to see?
Crane motioned for me to follow him. Slowly, I started walking again. Crane held the tent flap open for me to pass through, and then nodded his head to the right. He stayed close to me as we wound through the tents. His arm twitched a couple of times, and I thought he was deciding whether to wrap his arm around my shoulders. He had an undeniable urge to comfort me; I felt that. But a quick swipe of his mind told me he feared overstepping his bounds. His parental instincts where I was concerned were touching, but I was reluctant to trust them. For the life of me, I didn’t understand where they came from.
He led me to a small tent with a white cross emblazoned on the triangle top. Four cots lined each canvass wall, with several more littering the earthen floor in the center. All were empty except for one. The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew Crane had been correct. I wasn’t just happy to see Cadence Choi, I was elated.
Her short, dark hair poked out in every direction, reminding me of a porcupine. Underneath the thin white blanket, one of her legs appeared three times the size of the other. The arm slung across her stomach was wrapped in a bubble of hard blue plastic. When she turned her head, I noticed that half of her face was bandaged with white gauze. She’d seen better days, that was for sure. But she was alive, and I felt like celebrating.
“Cadence!” I exclaimed, and started winding through the cot-maze to get to her. Had someone told me a few weeks ago that I’d practically jump for joy at the sight of her, I’d have told him to have his head examined. Now, though? I wanted to throw my arms around Cadence and tell her how much I’d missed her. And I had missed her. Until that instant I hadn’t realized how much.
She grinned. At least I was pretty sure it was a grin. The gauze obscuring the right side of her mouth made it hard to be sure. “Hey, Talia,” she mumbled.
I knelt next to her bed and reached for her good hand. She flinched when I touched her, and I noticed that the fingers of her “good hand” were swollen into fat, red sausages. My heart sank a little lower in my chest. I knew she’d been hurt, but I had no idea her injuries were so extensive.
“How ya feeling?” I asked, and instantly regretted the question. Obviously she felt awful. I wanted to smack myself for being so insensitive.
“Been better.” She tried to smile again, but her expression quickly turned sour.
I wanted to comfort her, but I was afraid to touch her again for fear of inflicting more pain. So instead, I did the only thing that I could think of. I dampened her suffering.
Cadence’s body relaxed into the thin mattress. She sighed and her visible eye fluttered several times. As with Erik, absorbing her pain brought about an instant ache that consumed every inch of my body. A sharp, leaden quality tinged the pain, making my heady woozy and my vision unfocused. Painkillers, I realized. She was higher than a hovercraft.
“Thanks,” she mumbled.
I eased into a sitting position, my legs beginning to throb and my fingers burning with Cadence’s pain. Even with the narcotics, she was extremely uncomfortable. Mostly they made her not care so much. I bit the inside of my bottom lip to keep the torment out of my expression. Hers was a bearable pain, at least.
“I hear you found Randy,” she continued, her voice a little stronger now. “Is he … okay?”
“A little thin, but otherwise appears to be okay,” I said honestly. Besides the malnourishment, I was pretty sure Randy was physically fine. Mentally, I couldn’t even imagine the extent of the damage. He’d been locked away for six years. His crime had been a serious one, as far as TOXIC was concerned anyhow. Helping a Coalition woman escape prison had landed him a one-way ticket to Tramblewood – the same prison where he’d been a guard. That Coalition woman had been Penny’s mother, Crane’s sister.
“Better than you,” I added as Cadence fought the tears causing her dark irises to swim.
“Mr. Crane says he’s on his way to a Coalition safe house.” I was shocked at how easily she’d adjusted to Crane’s presence. I’d actually forgotten he was in the tent until she’d said his name. I turned to find him standing quietly in the doorway.
“I want to go, too. When I’m healthy,” Cadence continued, drawing my attention back to her.
“Of course,” I promised without asking Crane; although, I doubted he’d mind.
“Visiting hours are over. Ms. Choi needs her rest,” a stern female voice said from behind me.
I glanced back. Now standing next to Crane was a short, pudgy woman. She wore her dark red hair in a severe bun at the nape of her neck. It pulled at the skin around her hairline, making her cat-like eyes appear even more feline.
“I’ll sleep here, in one of the empty cots,” I replied. I wanted to stay with Cadence. I needed to do something, feel useful. I was no medic; my minimal first-aid training was limited to bandaging scrapes and, in a pinch, suturing wounds. Erik’s level of injury was beyond me. Cadence’s was not. Shouldering Cadence’s pain might even distract me, or tire me out enough to actually fall asleep.
“This is a medical tent,” the nurse replied. Her tone suggested my request was ridiculous.
“Please, let her stay,” Cadence sniffed next to me.
While the tears and sniffling were byproducts of the overwhelming relief she felt about her brother, Nurse Crotchety didn’t know that. The emotional display smoothed the woman’s puckered lips.
“There’s no harm in it,” Crane said, turning what could only be explained as charm on the nurse. “The beds aren’t being used.”
The nurse smiled up at Crane with enough sugar to make my tee
th hurt, then glared at me. “I suppose we can make an exception this once. But no talking. Ms. Choi needs to rest if she is going to get better.”
“Thank you,” I told her in as polite a tone as I could manage.
“Would you mind finding Ms. Lyons some clean clothes?” Crane asked the nurse in that same charming tone.
That was when I realized I was still wearing my suit and it was covered in dirt, dust, and blood. Gross.
“Of course, sir.” The nurse patted her bun as she crossed to a small chest of plastic drawers in one corner. Her back was to me, so I couldn’t see what she was doing. But when she turned around, she held a pair of clean green scrubs in her hands. I happily took the clothes, but decided it was best to wait until Cadence and I were alone to strip.
“I’ll be back to check on you in a little while, dear,” the nurse told Cadence.
“Night, ladies,” Crane said.
The electric lights lining the tent’s ceiling buzzed loudly then made a popping noise, which was followed by darkness. I made quick work of shedding the filthy suit and replacing it with the scrubs. Not only were the clothes clean, they smelled like sunshine as if they’d been hung on a line outside to dry. They probably had been, I realized. While there was electricity here, I doubted it was wasted on such trivial machines as clothes dryers. Not when they needed to power medical equipment. Gatlinburg was definitely one of the rural-live-off-the-land stations.
A shower would have been welcome, and much needed just then, but the new clothes made me feel refreshed. At least I wouldn’t wake up with the remnants of the mission clinging to me.
The cot mattress proved to be as thin as it looked and as soft as cardboard. Bedsprings poked into my back as I tried to make myself comfortable. My sense of time was out of whack from traveling across so many time zones and back in such a short time period. No light peeked through the split between the tent flaps, so I guessed sunrise was a ways off.
A thousand questions swirled in my mind, all fighting their way to my mouth. I wanted to ask Cadence about what happened when they went for Erik’s parents, and how he’d been captured in the first place. I wanted to know how she and Henri had escaped from TOXIC while Erik had been captured, and then become separated from Erik’s father and brothers. I wanted to know what life at this station was like, because it was very different from the ones I’d seen. Here, the Station Manager seemed to know and like Crane. The D.C. Station Manager, Adam, hadn’t known Crane at all. He didn’t believe TOXIC’s party line about Crane and the Coalition hating Talents and wanting to end our existence, but he hadn’t seemed to trust him either. Yet both stations had the same goal. Maybe Crane’s actual involvement with the Underground movement was a need-to-know type of thing.