Tier Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Cindy Gunderson

  You’re never going to believe this. We found a group of Tier 3 children who have survived on their own. On their own, Nick! For years! They are in a fairly desperate situation at this point, so we are working on it. How is everything progressing there? Any news? How are the girls? Finding these kids has shaken me a little bit. What else is Berg hiding?? Do they know that not all Tier 3 populations were eradicated? Are there more? Eric and I (well, I guess more “I” than Eric) feel compelled to find out the answer to that last question. Any maps of the area (specifically where old Tier 3 settlements were) that you can send would be helpful. Thanks, as always.

  --Kate

  Turning it off, I slide it across the floor—not even bothering to charge it—and give in to sleep.

  Morning comes much too quickly, and my eyelids are still heavy with sleep when I know it’s time to get going. Without checking, I know Eric is already up. The emptiness of the bed beside me seems to penetrate the air, and a feeling of panic surges, taking advantage of this lonely moment. What have we done? How can we possibly care for so many children with the resources we have? Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I close my eyes and relax my head on the pillow. It takes a good minute or two to compose myself, but eventually, I am able to leave the safe-haven of the sheets and begin my morning routine. Any fears are pushed away for the time being, and I trust that the intensity of them will pass.

  Walking into the kitchen, I find a full plate of sweet potato hash on the table. Three other place settings are in the sink already. From my vantage point, I can barely make out the boys lugging a wide, wooden beam toward the house—with Eric’s help, of course. I can only assume they are already deep in preparations for the addition that will be needed on the shelter. For once, I am grateful that Eric didn’t ask for my opinion. I don’t have the brain capacity to engineer something of this magnitude right now. Nor is it my forte.

  As I enjoy my breakfast, I think of Rose. My perspective on these perfectly salted potatoes has forever changed after my chat with her the other day. Was it only yesterday? Despite my ability to remain positive in our current situation, there has always been a part of me that took pride in our level of sacrifice. Each time we have gone without something, or worked to create something that would have been handed to us in Tier 1, I have revelled in our resourcefulness. Our ability to do without. And here these children are...Well, our level of sacrifice seems slightly pitiful.

  Taking my last bite, a thought occurs to me, and I quickly exit the room, still chewing. Scanning the floor, I find the sensor that I hastily tossed out of the way last night and power it on. No new messages. I wait for a moment, giving it time in case it hasn’t fully connected to the network yet. Still nothing. With a message like this, how could he not at least send an acknowledgement? It’s kind of a huge revelation. Maybe he’s out of town? My eyebrows furrow as I place the sensor around my wrist.

  “Hey,” Eric calls, his shirt drenched in sweat.

  “Hey,” I answer with a wave. “What are you guys up to?” The sun is shining brightly today, an unexpected treat, considering the past week.

  “I thought we’d get a start on things. At least get the basics in place. Check this out,” he says excitedly, motioning for me to follow. “If we put a door here, we can build a small hallway that will lead to two bunk rooms—one for the girls, and one for the boys—about this size. That way we can utilize this exterior wall, and the piping for heat runs right here, so that should be easy to tap into on both sides.”

  “I love it. Simple and effective,” I comment.

  “The best part is we can put in triple bunk beds,” Bentley adds.

  “I’m not completely sure on that, Bent,” Eric chuckles. “But I think it would be fun if it works.”

  “Is there anything I can help with?” I ask, “Otherwise I can go do some food rotation so that we can make a plan for rations.”

  “Do that,” Eric nods. “In a minute I might need you to help me lift this piece, but I have to notch it first. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”

  “Sounds great,” I say, pecking him on the lips.

  Besides the few moments when Eric needs my assistance, I spend the rest of the day calculating and planning. I’m impressed with our ingenuity, yet again, as I see the physical numbers in front of me. We have used less than half of the expected resources during our time here. Granted, I think Nick was generous in his estimations initially, but we have also put tremendous effort into making things last. I am grateful for both of these things now that our lives are going to dramatically change.

  Checking my wrist for the thousandth time today, I see it is still blank. Not able to hold back any longer, I type another message.

  Nick? Hey, just making sure that last message came through. If you haven’t seen anything, let me know and I’ll re-send. It’s not like you to take so long to respond with something like this. Sorry if you’re busy and I’m bugging you! Talk soon.

  --Kate

  Leaving the resource shelter, I begin to trudge back to the house, lost in thought. Halfway there, my step becomes lighter as I remember my purpose: to share with Eric the resource numbers I’ve tallied. Knowing how much we have available has lifted a weight from my shoulders and I hope it will do the same for him.

  Chapter 105

  My sensor dings and my eyes fly open. Eric and the boys left yesterday to bring the children home, but they didn’t return by nightfall. We assumed there would be some loose ends to tie up, but I am hopeful they will return today. I never sleep well when Eric’s gone.

  Rubbing my eyes, and with my heart pumping, I bring the sensor display into view. It nearly blinds me in the darkness. A single line of text appears.

  >Who is this?

  Who is this? Terror grips me. Could someone have gained access to this line? Hacked into our communication? Nick assured me it was completely secret and secure, but who knows how much technology has changed in the last two years. Is Nick messing with me? I highly doubt he would let a practical joke like this last more than a minute and I don’t see anything else coming through. My initial response is to answer, but if it’s someone from Berg...I don’t want to cause Nick any trouble.

  My mind flicks back to my message, horrified at the thought of anyone else seeing it. We’ve become so cavalier, not coding anything or being the least cryptic in our speech. Anyone who has read that message will know that something isn’t right. Why would someone in Tier 1 be talking about finding Tier 3 children? I start to panic. Discarding the thought to play it safe—at this point, that would only breed more suspicion—I go with honesty. And cross my fingers that it’s either Nick playing a sick joke...or a friend.

  This is Kate. Who’s this?

  My hands become clammy as I wait.

  Ding.

  >Kate? Kate who? This is Jessica.

  Jessica. That name sounds familiar, but my brain is having trouble placing it. Jessica. Where do I know it from? Tamara...and Jessica! She’s the woman from the council that is helping Nick. Emotions swell within my chest. At least I know she has similar priorities. But why would she have access to his messages? And if it was serious enough for her to be living with him, why didn’t he say anything about it? I almost spit those words out in my head. I freeze, horrified at my reaction. Am I jealous!? Did I somehow think that Nick would be single forever—pining for me—while I live out my life with my family? Bile rises in my throat as I recognize the truth in this thought. No. I refuse to allow myself to react negatively if something has gone right for Nick.

  But what about the girls. Is this their new mom? The thought nearly bowls me over with its intensity. No. I will not jump to conclusions. And they would do well to have a female figure in their lives. I trust Nick, I remind myself. Having a pair would explain all of this. If Nick was out of town or something and she was somehow alerted to this message...I’m not sure why a secure message would be visible, but mistakes happen all the time. He could have forgotten to log out?

>   Hi Jessica, I’m an old friend. Where is Nick? He is helping me with a project.

  Ding.

  >You haven’t heard?

  Heard what? Immediately my mind jumps to Beth and Leah. What if something happened to one of them? Is that why Nick isn’t home? I am lightheaded and the space between us is suddenly intolerable. I ache to be back.

  I haven’t heard anything. What is going on?

  Ding.

  >I don’t think this is something we should discuss over message. Can you call? Or stop by?

  I wish.

  That’s not an option, unfortunately. Thank you for the thought. Please just fill me in.

  Ding.

  >Nick’s dead, Kate.

  My heart stops. Dead? That’s not possible. There has to be something going on. Maybe this is Berg—intercepting our communication and punishing me for my insolence. Is this even really Jessica? It’s not real, I’m sure of it. Steeling myself, I begin to type.

  If this is some joke or an attempt to hurt me, it won’t work. I realize that I wasn’t allowed to have contact with anyone and I will leave Nick alone. Please don’t drag him into this.

  The sensor is dark for a long time. I am frozen on the edge of my bed, sweat drenching my shirt, my breathing shallow.

  Ding.

  >Are you the Kate that Nick was talking about in his presentation years ago? Were you paired with Nick? Are Beth and Leah your daughters? Have you been communicating with Nick this entire time? You’re alive? Are you doing okay? You found Tier 3 populations there? How is that possible?

  My brain is overwhelmed with the questions. This doesn’t sound like Berg, which means…

  WHO IS THIS? AND WHERE IS NICK?

  Ding. This time almost immediately.

  >This is Jessica. I was there at his presentation, when you were still paired. When his research was just beginning to make waves. His information really touched me and, after a deal was reached with Berg, I have been working with him ever since. I am at the house for the time being. To take care of everything until we can figure out what to do. Nick is gone, Kate. I am so so sorry to have to be the one to tell you. He died four days ago in a car accident. The computer malfunctioned.

  No, no, no, no, no, this can’t be true. This can’t be true. I involuntarily repeat this in my head over and over again. Like a loop that can’t be broken. The sensor clatters to the floor and I follow it, dropping to my knees on the woven rug that covers the rough concrete. Collapsing in on myself, I hyperventilate, squeezing my arms tightly around each other. Hoping that I can somehow press hard enough that the hurt will disappear. Nick can’t be gone. He is making so much progress and he is such a good man. A leader that we need in Tier 1, someone who truly wanted to make a difference and who was forcing needed change—

  I freeze. Time seems to stand still as a thought crystallizes in my mind. Cars don’t malfunction. I mean, they do, but it’s extremely rare. What are the chances that Nick, of all people, would experience that. How convenient that Nick—a revolutionary in his own right—would suddenly have an accident. Wiping my nose and tears on the backs of my hands, I search on my knees for the sensor. Finding it, I turn it over, barely able to stabilize it with shaking fingers.

  >Kate? Are you alright? Are you there?

  I dry my hands on my shirt.

  I’m here. I’m not alright, but I’m here. Jessica, I’m choosing to trust you. Because Nick must have trusted you. I don’t think this was an accident. The chances of a car malfunction in Tier 1 are extremely slim. Nick was pushing boundaries. This doesn’t seem right.

  I spent so much of my life fighting against the idea that I had a choice. That there could be alternate paths moving away from any situation. But in this moment, I use the word “choosing” purposefully. I want to take ownership.

  There is a long pause, and I almost jump when the sensor finally dings.

  >I know it wasn’t an accident.

  How? How does she know?

  Ding.

  >I am choosing to trust you, too, Kate. Truth be told...I am terrified to talk to anyone in Tier 1 at this point. I am going to send you some of Nick’s files. Will you please read over them? Some Committee members will be here soon and I need to have things in order. Do you have a time tomorrow night that we could discuss?

  Committee members? My heart is pounding.

  Sure, I’ll read them. And anytime is fine. I’ll keep my sensor close, just send a message when you can.

  Ding.

  >Beth and Leah are safe.

  Tears begin streaming down my face. This time, I don’t even attempt to pull it together before responding.

  Thank you.

  Waiting just in case another message comes, I sit stock still, staring at the display. When nothing appears, my shoulders finally collapse and my hands drop to the floor. Leaning my head against the side of the bed, I close my eyes, allowing all of my emotions to wash over me. Nick. Nick, I scream internally, my mind and body in shock. Sadness, guilt, regret, anxiety, and horror take turns terrorizing my heart. The pain is too intense.

  “Eric, I need you!” I shriek into the darkness, my voice organic and raw, even to my own ears. Too overwhelmed to do anything else, I curl up on the rug—pulling my legs to my chest—and sob.

  Chapter 106

  Eric’s face begins to take form through my blinking eyes. Why is he above me? My shoulder aches and the pain tethers me to the information I received...days ago? Hours ago? How long have I been lying here? Tears spring to my eyes as I frantically scramble to my feet. Interpreting my distress, Eric grips my arms and helps me up, pulling me to him.

  “Kate, what in the—” he is saying when my body slams into his, knocking the breath out of his lungs. I am so glad he is here. I needed him so badly before, and his presence now brings comfort to my aching heart.

  He strokes my hair, silent, waiting for me to speak. When my breathing returns to normal and the weight on my chest momentarily lifts with the physical release that accompanies tears, I pull my face away from his shoulder and meet his eyes.

  “It’s Nick,” I begin, thinking that I can finish the thought, but my voice catches in my throat and I can’t speak.

  “Kate, what about Nick?” Eric asks soberly, concern evident in his expression.

  “He—he’s gone,” I splutter before sobbing afresh. “It—it was B-Berg,” I stammer through stilted breaths.

  “What do you mean? Berg killed Nick?”

  I nod, but then regret the accusation. “I don’t actually know anything, Jessica and I—”

  “Who’s Jessica?” he asks.

  “She’s been working with Nick, she was the one who gave me this information,” I say in a rush. “We both think it wasn’t an accident and—”

  My mind suddenly jumps to our conversation. I let go of Eric abruptly and grip my wrist, checking for the sensor. It’s there. Pulling up the display, I find a link to a folder.

  “She sent me his files,” I sniff. “I need to read them. She says there is information there that we need to discuss. That she can’t talk to anyone, but the girls are safe,” I recite quickly, my dialogue completely disjointed. I’m not sure if he’s even able to follow this.

  “Take as much time as you need,” Eric says softly. “I left the kids in the yard. I didn’t know if you had plans for meals, but we’ll figure something out.”

  The kids. How had I forgotten about them?

  “I can—”

  “No, just get in bed and read. I’ll take care of it,” Eric states and his eyes assure me he is serious. I nod and crawl under the covers, propping myself up with his pillow behind mine.

  “Are you sure?” I ask weakly.

  “Positive. We can talk tonight after you know more.”

  “Tell the kids I’m sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. They are so excited to see everything here that they won’t even notice,” he assures me as he moves toward the door. With his back to me, he pauses i
n the doorway.

  “I’m so sorry, Kate,” he whispers, then closes the door behind him.

  The file takes a minute to open, which gives me time to collect myself. It seems that as soon as I am able to calm down, another thought or memory sends me reeling again. The first time a message from him came through on this sensor, it gave me much-needed hope. Even though I haven’t seen Nick in years, just knowing that he existed centered me. Made me sure that things were going to be okay, that the Tier system was going to transform into something better. I was so sure that Nick could make that happen. Now, who is going to continue his work? Who has enough leverage with the Committee to exert that kind of pressure? And who will want to take that on when they see where it got Nick?

  Sighing, I tap on the folder and begin scrolling from the beginning.

  Entry #22

  It’s done. I dropped them off this morning and it was quite literally the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. Upon arriving home, I let Beth and Leah take their nap with me in my bed and I was able to fall asleep for a few minutes at least. The grief I feel is actually a pleasant distraction from the constant fear of fallout from Berg. I don’t have a guarantee that this is all going to work out in my favor. I promised Kate that I would care for Beth and Leah, but...what if I’m not around?