Fearless

by Sarah Tarkoff

  I could think of no way to explain my sudden-onset Punishment, besides admitting to being responsible for the guard’s death, so I sat up and nodded. “Okay.”

  Zack took a deep breath. “I know you’re working with the resistance. And I want to help.”

  That, I wasn’t expecting. I tried to gauge whether he was playing me, whether this was still part of some long con. I hated how much I wanted to trust him. “Help with what?” I could barely contain my disbelief.

  “I know what I’ve been doing, the past couple years, okay? The people I work for . . . I thought they were doing great things, helping the world, but . . . I take one of those pills every single day.”

  The words slipped out. “Because you feel guilty?”

  He seemed confused. “Guilty?”

  He didn’t know, I realized, what was really causing the Punishments. He had a hunch it wasn’t Great Spirit, but no one had ever told him any of the neurochemical specifics. Should I be the one to break the news? If he was looking for answers, it was the safest thing I could think of.

  So I tentatively explained what I knew about the nanotech, about the way the pills worked. As I spoke, Zack leaned against the bookcase, overcome. “No one ever told you any of that?” I asked timidly once I’d finished.

  “No one trusts me with any important secrets,” he said, voice bitter.

  “The prophet trusts you more than he trusts me,” I pointed out.

  Zack ignored my jab. “Who told you that thing about the guilt?”

  “You think I’m gonna tell you that?”

  “I just want to know what’s going on,” he said, slamming a fist against the bookshelf in frustration. “I want to know the truth.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t be working with the people who are perpetrating the lies,” I shot back, standing to move away.

  But Zack followed, right on my tail. “That’s why I can help! Like you. You’ve been a double agent, haven’t you? I want to do that, too.” My hesitation clearly angered him. “All the time we’ve spent together recently. You can’t look at me and know I’m telling the truth?”

  I did look at him. And I couldn’t tell. “How would I know?” I asked, matter-of-fact. “All the time we’ve spent together, you’ve been lying to me.”

  “I could say the same to you. But I still feel like I know you.” His voice softened. “I still consider you a friend.”

  Zack’s charm was back, and annoying me again. But I wasn’t going to let it hoodwink me. “You’re threatening to turn me in to Joshua if I don’t do exactly what you say. That doesn’t sound like much of a friend to me.”

  I could tell that resonated with him. “You’re right. I’m desperate and I’m scared, and I don’t know what to do. You think I can just quit? You think Joshua won’t kill me if I try to walk away?” So he did know what Joshua was capable of. “I want my freedom,” he begged. “And I want you to have yours. Whatever it takes, I’ll protect you.”

  “Unless it gets in the way of protecting you,” I challenged.

  Zack sagged, a little defeated. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What I’ve been doing to you, it’s not right. It’s not right to do to anyone, and especially not . . .” He paused. “I didn’t know you when we first started. Not the way I do now. I thought you were just one of Macy’s little friends . . .”

  “Thanks.” I snorted.

  “But now . . . I know you.” The way he looked at me when he said it made my heart give a funny little jump.

  “What do you know about me?” I couldn’t help asking.

  “I know you get excited every time we pass a horse in Central Park, because you think the way their tails swish is funny. I know you know way more about coffee than any normal human should. And I know that these past few months have been the first time in so long that I’ve actually been happy to get up every morning, because it means I get to spend time with you.”

  “But it was all a lie,” I repeated, clinging to the words. There was safety there.

  He shook his head, genuinely hurt. “Not our friendship. At least not for me.”

  In my heart I knew it hadn’t been for me either. “I guess you weren’t the worst person in the world to have following me,” I said, then quickly added, “But definitely not the best.”

  Zack sighed, hurt. “So that’s it? You’ll never trust me again, will you? You’ll never see me as more than that guy who lied to you.”

  “How . . . how do you want me to see you?” I asked tentatively.

  For a moment, the world beyond the bookshelves disappeared completely. All that existed was that look in Zack’s eye, as he tried to gauge what I was thinking. “You really don’t know?”

  My breath caught in my throat. “No.”

  He moved closer to me, and I found myself taking a step toward him. “Seriously, you have no idea?”

  I had an idea, but it felt more like a hope, an idle fantasy. Until he cupped my cheek in his hand, and he pulled me in for a kiss.

  7

  It was a good kiss—a killer kiss. For a moment, I was lost in the smell of his smoky cologne, the taste of his lips, the feel of his fingers snaking into my hair, and I forgot who he was, what he wanted from me. The moment I remembered, I came up for air and took a step back.

  Zack was smiling from ear to ear, face flushed. “You okay?”

  No, I wasn’t. I was full of a thousand conflicting feelings, and I didn’t know how to sort through them all quickly enough to answer Zack’s question. “Why now?” I asked, getting heated again. “You’ve had all this time. For months and months, I’ve seen you every day. And today, you decide to declare your love?”

  Alarm washed over Zack’s face. “Whoa, hang on. I never said I loved you . . .”

  I flushed. “You know what I mean,” I muttered. “Why are you kissing me now, when what you want is information?” I’d been caught up in the moment, but what if this was just the culmination of Zack’s plan? “You’re trying to manipulate me.”

  Zack began to laugh. “Are you serious?”

  “Just like you manipulated Aviva. When’s that date again? I bet you’ll charm lots of secrets out of her for Prophet Joshua.”

  He stopped laughing, though he still seemed amused. “Grace, do you hear yourself?”

  “I’m just stating facts. You tried one tactic. It didn’t work. You moved to another, no luck. Now you’re trying to seduce me, because you think I’m some easily manipulated teenage girl, who’ll fall head over heels for your stupid pious face.”

  I started to move away, and he followed me. “Grace! I’m not lying to you, okay? You think I wanted to fall for a freshman in college, who also happens to be the last person in the world I should date? Do you know what Prophet Joshua would do to me if he found out I kissed you?”

  “Probably give you a medal.” My breath was coming fast, furious, like a wild animal.

  His voice was desperate now. “What can I do to convince you?”

  Nothing. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll show you every email I wrote to my supervisor about you. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  At that my interest was piqued. I’d spent all this time trying to get into Zack’s head, wondering what he was thinking—and here he was offering me an open invitation. Whether he was on my side or not, I couldn’t resist the temptation to at least see what he was offering. “Anything?”

  “Anything. Everything. I’m telling the truth. I’m on your side. I want to help you. I think you’re the only person in the world who can give my life some kind of meaning again. Not because I love you or whatever,” he said hastily. “But because you’re the only one who can save me from the hell I got myself into.”

  I fought against my instinct to run and stared him square in the eye. “Prove it.”

  Zack nodded, relieved. “We should move. We can’t keep talking like this here.”

  I reluctantly followed him outside—still worried I was being tricked somehow, still w
ondering if I could have played this some other way, some better way. I sat nervously in the passenger seat of Zack’s car as he drove out of D.C., into a secluded wooded suburb.

  As the houses became fewer and farther between, I began to get nervous. What if he wasn’t taking me somewhere to tell me secrets? What if he was taking me out into the woods to incapacitate me so he could bring me in, the way he’d done with Ciaran? Would I end up back in that prison in West Virginia, sharing my cell with sociopaths?

  I considered trying to get away, but I still had a few hours before I needed to meet Jude’s taxi, and I worried if I didn’t do as Zack asked, he might go to the prophet before then. And deep down, though I tried to push it aside, some stupid part of me hoped that kiss had been real—that what Zack had to tell me would prove he was on my side, that his feelings were genuine.

  We finally ended up in an empty parking lot in the middle of a national park—secluded and empty. I followed Zack to a picnic table, where we sat, each regarding the other warily. “So?” I finally said. “We’re here.”

  He seemed hesitant. “If anyone knew I was telling you any of this . . .”

  “You’d be killed, I know.” I wanted him to get to the point. “And being here with you could get me killed. But I’m here.”

  He nodded. “I trust you. Even if you don’t trust me, I trust you. Okay? Try not to screw me over, if you can.”

  I glanced around. I didn’t see any of his accomplices waiting to jump me or anything, so I asked, “Why have you been following me?”

  Zack didn’t miss a beat. “Samuel suspects you. He thought if he had you followed, he could find out who you were working with. I was the best candidate because I already knew you. I never told them we’d talked about the pills, or that you’d tried to help me save Macy. I told them you trusted me, because I thought I owed it to you to protect you, because you saved my sister’s life. I know what they’re capable of.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I tried not to let my feelings shade how I heard his story. I had to stay objective.

  “I wanted to help. At every turn, I tried to do what I thought was best. What I thought Great Spirit would have wanted me to do.” I wondered if he was invoking Great Spirit for my benefit, because he knew spirituality was something I still valued.

  It wasn’t the question I’d intended to ask next, but curiosity got the better of me. “How did you end up working for the prophet in the first place?”

  It ended up being a long story.

  Book Three

  1

  The Revelations changed everything for Zack. In 2024, he was fourteen, ultrabright, the kind of kid who had always known what he wanted to do. His first memories were of a country that had inserted itself into numerous conflicts around the globe, where threats were ever present and immensely complicated. He grasped early on what military and political power could do, and how important it was for them to be wielded well. This helped shape his grand plans—to take on politics and become a diplomat or a congressman. And as he entered his teenage years, this path seemed wiser than ever—rogue states and groups were growing closer to acquiring and developing the kind of weapons that could wipe out life on this planet.

  And then, out of nowhere, we entered a world where there were no wars to fight, no laws to be made because the prophet decreed them for us instead. Congress quickly became composed of the religious elite—holy men and women of all creeds—rather than the party leaders of years past.

  Everyone heading to college at that time was forced to reevaluate their plans. Zack considered medicine or business, which suddenly seemed like more practical options, but his drive to serve his country outweighed all other considerations. There was no more military to join—enlistments and officer training programs had been discontinued. But he stubbornly remained true to his goals, and he went to college studying international relations and political science, hoping to find some kind of government job when he graduated.

  He finished in three years—eager to get out there and start doing something—and he applied for everything with a .gov address. Desk jobs, legal affairs . . . he was willing to push a mop around the Pentagon if it came to it, and eventually he got a job as a low-level desk clerk at the office of Homeland Security. As far as he knew, it was a mostly defunct organization, with a few residual employees. He had only a vague idea of what those people must be doing; they had titles like “Project Manager” and “Analyst,” and they described their jobs as “community maintenance.” Like many other organizations, Homeland Security seemed to have become a charity of sorts, a group of do-gooders.

  However, a few important people did come through the office still, including a tough, no-nonsense middle-aged woman everyone called Esther. Her English was perfect, but because of the burqa she still wore, everyone assumed she’d been born into the former Muslim world. Wild rumors abounded about her early days as an undercover field agent—Zack heard whispers that she’d once strangled an Al-Shabaab lieutenant with her bare hands. And while he was never clear on the specifics of her title, he gauged that whatever secretive program she was running, it must be important. Eager and ambitious, he was extra attentive whenever she stopped by, and with his confident, extroverted personality, he was able to charm her—before long they were on a first-name basis.

  “Is this what you want to do?” she asked him one day.

  “I’ve wanted to work at Homeland Security since I was a kid,” Zack told her. “But working here doesn’t mean quite what it used to.”

  “You wanted to shoot down terrorists?” she asked, a little coy.

  He tried to deflect—by this point, militaristic inclinations were looked down upon even at former military institutions. “I wanted—I want—to make a difference,” Zack told her. “Excel at something, use those skills to help my country. I’m not sure what good I’m doing answering a phone.”

  Her eyes had a teasing glint. “You feel your great talents are being wasted.”

  “I’m learning lots here,” he replied quickly, trying to save face. “I’m grateful for the opportunity. Maybe our country just doesn’t need help the way it used to.”

  “Our world can always use the help. We have jobs open in my department. If you still want to make a difference, you should apply. I think you’d like it.”

  “I’d love to,” he said, before he realized he hadn’t asked what the open jobs were, or which department she ran.

  It turned out the open job he was applying for was “Agent,” no other description available. The application requirements were stringent. A background check and complete psychological profile were step one. A series of rigorous academic tests were step two. And after he’d passed every round of testing, he and every other new recruit had to swear an oath of secrecy to Esther herself:

  “Do you swear to keep confidential any information you learn here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you swear to keep your occupation confidential from all your family and personal contacts?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you willing to put yourself at great physical risk on behalf of the United States of America?”

  At this, Zack’s heart swelled. He was in the right place. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

  Excitement swirled around the room, as Esther eyed them all. “Welcome to the CIA.”

  2

  Zack nearly burst out of his skin with pride as he walked through the doors of the CIA’s training headquarters for the first time, surrounded by a dozen other new recruits. They were all on the young side, but he was the youngest. All had résumés much longer than his. Lauded psychiatrists, lawyers, police officers. They’d been recruited off the street, at their jobs, all by current CIA officers. None of them knew why they were there, but they all had guesses.

  “We’re gonna be spies, right?” This came from a balding former accountant in the back, who had clearly been lured by the drama and mystery of whatever this job might hold for him.

  A former NYPD officer
, the most physically intimidating in the room, countered that with disdain. “There are no spies anymore.”

  “How do you know?” The room turned its attention to a tall blonde named Jenna as she spoke. A few of the recruits had heard her bragging that she still hoped to work in her former profession—as a runway model in Milan, a job where the competition was fiercer than ever before.

  “Spying involves lying, and liars are Punished,” said a social worker definitively.

  “Maybe we’re going to learn how to lie without being Punished,” Jenna suggested, though the room was skeptical.

  “Look at the budgets,” Zack said, glad to have something to contribute. “Every nation has slashed their budgets for national defense down to basically nothing. I worked for Homeland Security, it’s a ghost town.”

  “They’re paying us somehow. Maybe they buried the funding in some other program?”

  The accountant butted in: “It would actually be easy to do. A national budget is so complex . . .”

  He was thankfully not allowed to elaborate on the complexities of national budgets because at that moment, Esther entered. She’d been training recruits since 2024, so her presentation was succinct, entertaining, and, all the recruits eventually realized, completely devoid of any information that would tell them why they were here.

  “Thank you all for volunteering for your country,” Esther said. “You’re taking on a very important role as guardians of our international peace. Over the next few weeks, you’ll be trained to identify and eliminate threats to that peace. Your focus and hard work will be crucial to your success in this program.”

  As he left, Jenna turned to Zack, eyes twinkling. “We’re totally gonna be spies.”

  3

  Back in high school, Zack had been kind of pimply and awkward. But despite his lack of traditional “piousness,” he was confident, and when he set his mind on courting a girl, he usually won her over. Sadly, it was that same stubbornness that tended to put an end to his relationships, too, even once he hit college and his more traditional good looks kicked in. But in all his years of dating, he’d never had a girl pursue him the way Jenna did.