The Lawless

by Dylan Steel

  Sage’s brow wrinkled. “How is that, exactly? What’d Weston do?”

  She let out a small laugh. “Weston? Nothing, really.”

  Sage cocked her head, waiting for more of an explanation.

  Blowing out an uneasy breath, Clarette pushed off the wall and made her way to a pile of ash in the center of the room. She scooped the ashes into a circle and pulled a cylinder out of her pocket, breaking it in half. Sparks flared out from the break, igniting a small fire as she set it in the center of the ring.

  “My family was actually pretty wealthy. We had a good life—private tutors, nice home inside the city without shared walls and everything. Knew some benefactors on a first-name basis, even, got invited to exclusive parties and all that. But we still hated Eprah. The System of Worth affects everyone. Everyone loses someone, and it’s usually for the dumbest reasons. So we were Lawless. Every last one of us.”

  Sage watched silently as Clarette paused to poke the fire with a stick.

  “When we were discovered—it’s inevitable, isn’t it—my family was taken. Everyone but me. My parents probably didn’t survive more than a week in the Dungeon, and my sister…” She trailed off, swallowing hard. “I was old enough that I’d have spent a few years at the Institution. Shunned.” She shivered. “It’s bad enough when you’re just questioning Eprah, but when you’re already Lawless even as a kid… You know how it would have been. I’d never be the same—I’d either turn into someone I hated, or I’d be killed within weeks of graduating. Maybe both.”

  Her eyes flicked to Sage’s. “Mr. Bennick—Charles, not Weston—got me out. Faked my death before they could take me. He tried to get the rest of us, but there just wasn’t time. I’ve been hiding—running—ever since.”

  “I’m sorry,” Sage said softly.

  Clarette blinked and looked away, as if just remembering that she was sharing her story with someone she barely knew.

  “When Weston took over, he helped me stay out of Eprah’s reach, and I helped the cause any way I could. Really, I owe the Bennicks more than my life. I owe them my sanity and the fact that I can still fight at all.” She dropped her gaze, staring into the flames. “They kept Eprah from taking that much from me.”

  Sage pressed her lips together in silence, shifting her eyes to the fire. She wasn’t about to admit to Clarette that she was responsible for Mrs. Bennick’s death—or that Mr. Bennick shared some of that guilt as well. He may have made the wrong choice in her situation, but like Weston had said—and Clarette had just confirmed—not everything he’d done in his life had been so terribly misguided.

  “But enough reminiscing,” Clarette said, startling Sage from her thoughts. She tugged a bundle of clothes from her pack and shoved it along the ground in Sage’s direction. “What else do we need for tomorrow?”

  “Once I’m alone with Gaztok, I’ll need you to broadcast this across the city.” Sage tossed her a small disc.

  “What’s on it?”

  She shrugged. “The truth, courtesy of yours truly. Once it airs, you need to be ready. I don’t know how many connections you have, but they all need to be ready. It’s going to be our one chance to take the city.”

  Clarette eyed her thoughtfully. “That it?”

  Sage nodded.

  “Ok, then. There’s a grate in the alley outside. That’s where we’ll start. Three hours—that’s when we’re leaving.” Clarette leaned over, resting her head on her arm as she squeezed her eyes shut and murmured, “Time we both got some sleep. We’ll need it for what comes next.”

  9. NOT SO DEAD

  Clarette’s eyes blazed with an unspoken urgency as she slammed her palm against Sage’s chest, knocking her back against the wall. Sage gritted her teeth against the sudden pain. At this point, she knew better than to say anything, but she really needed to remind Clarette that hand signals worked just as well as full body wall contact.

  Cursing inwardly as Clarette grabbed a fistful of her Peace officer jacket and yanked her forward again, Sage had no choice but to follow closely behind her guide.

  They backtracked a couple tunnels and then paused at a bend just long enough for Clarette to push up the sleeve of her guard uniform and consult the small screen strapped to her forearm.

  Jerking her head to the right, Clarette moved down the empty tunnel, not bothering to look back and make sure Sage was following her abrupt start-stop pattern as they circled back to where they’d been a few minutes earlier.

  “Clear for now,” Clarette finally whispered, tapping the screen.

  “For now. That was the third patrol we’ve had to avoid in the last twenty minutes,” Sage said, keeping her voice low as they pressed forward.

  “I’m aware. It’s ‘cause we’re closer to the Peace now.”

  “Do you think they’re expecting us?”

  “I don’t know. Probably. With the execution scheduled for later today, it would make sense for them to be on high alert.” Clarette spared her an annoyed glance. “Anyways, you’re the one who was supposed to clear out the level with your Rogue contacts.”

  “They’ll start soon. I haven’t given them the signal yet.” Sage shoved a hand in her pocket, feeling once more for the device she carried there. It was a small thing, no bigger than a button, but the power behind it made her fingers tremble as they brushed it.

  “It’d be nice if you would. There are way too many officers down here. And all this doubling back is taking too much time.”

  “You know I can’t yet,” Sage hissed. “If I hit it too soon, the officers might figure out what we’re doing and regroup—send reinforcements back here. If that happens, we won’t stand a chance and neither will Weston.”

  “If we get caught before we get to him, we’re all dead. And we won’t be able to get to Gaztok,” Clarette said through her teeth.

  “Then I guess we’d better not get caught. Good thing you never have been,” Sage shot back, flinging her earlier boast back at her.

  “I’ve never taken this much of a risk before either,” Clarette muttered under her breath, checking her forearm again.

  Sage craned her neck so she could see the screen too. Not that it mattered. She had no way of making sense of any of it on her own. Other than a handful of colorful moving blobs and generic grid points, it was completely black—no tunnels were marked. If they were caught, the routes wouldn’t be discovered. It was an advantage, but only for someone who knew the underground labyrinth of tunnels by heart—like Clarette.

  It worked by detecting body heat, Clarette had explained. It wasn’t the most sophisticated tech, but it got the job done. The hardware had the ability to sense heat within a certain range and display its location.

  People. That’s what the colored blobs were. Or, more accurately, officers, which was why Clarette and Sage were each wearing an ankle pack that ran a little hotter than their bodies did. The extra heat made them easier to identify, so Clarette wouldn’t mistakenly start leading them in circles to avoid themselves.

  Sage tried to focus on the layout of the tunnels as they continued deeper in, but Clarette was right. The whole thing was a maze—one she couldn’t possibly hope to memorize in one shot, especially not when they kept backtracking to avoid discovery.

  It didn’t matter. Clarette was her guide, and once they got to Weston, there would be two of them able to navigate the tunnels.

  Weston.

  Sage’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. They hadn’t been apart for long, but it felt longer than any of his previous absences. He’d never told her how he’d felt, never said goodbye before—at least, not until he thought he’d never see her again. And she was so close to saving him—and Eprah—but the consequences for failure were unbearable.

  She clenched her jaw, moving steadily forward. She couldn’t let herself think about it. Besides, she told herself, they weren’t going to fail. They’d planned for several contingencies. Everything was going to work out. It had to.

  Brushing aside those t
houghts, Sage frowned, taking in the empty tunnel ahead. They hadn’t been forced to circle back for a bit. In fact, the soreness in her chest had actually begun to subside since she hadn’t been slammed against the wall recently.

  Clarette was checking for heat signatures again. Sage looked over her shoulder, trying to tamp down the growing sense of unease in her gut. She turned back around and opened her mouth to ask for a status update just in time to get a mouth full of cobwebs.

  “Blech.” She spluttered, spitting out the sticky mess.

  “Stopping for a snack?” Clarette didn’t bother hiding her smirk.

  Sage rolled her eyes. “We haven’t had to avoid anyone for a while,” she said, ignoring the jab.

  “Because we’re in the unmarked grid now. Officers shouldn’t have a clue about these tunnels.” Clarette looked back at Sage out of the corner of her eye and sighed at her inquisitive look. “It means we’re getting closer. It’s a good thing.”

  “How close?” Sage’s fingers twitched near her pocket.

  “Ten more minutes to the Dungeon entrance, maybe.” She squinted thoughtfully. “Give or take. I’ve almost never had a reason to be down this way.”

  “It’s time, then.”

  “Time?” Clarette hesitated, shooting her a questioning glance.

  “Yeah. Hold on.” Sage blew out a shaky breath, reaching into her pocket. Please let the buildings be empty.

  Pulling out the tech, she pressed the button and then dropped the device to the ground, crunching it beneath her heel. She tilted her head, quirking a brow at Clarette. “No evidence.”

  “No evidence,” Clarette said, nodding in agreement. “C’mon. We’ve gotta keep moving.”

  Sage crept after her down the dimly lit tunnel, stealing occasional glances at the screen on her arm. This time, she spotted the heat signature at the same time as Clarette and froze a step out of reach so she wouldn’t get slammed against the wall again.

  Clarette spun around, eyes wide. “There’s someone guarding the entrance.”

  “We’re already at the entrance?” Sage’s stomach tumbled unexpectedly, nervous anticipation building as her eyes flicked over Clarette’s shoulder. They were so close.

  She nodded, her gaze darting up and down the tunnel. “It’s just around the corner.”

  Sage pulled the knife from her pocket. “Then let’s go.”

  Clarette grabbed her arm, stopping her. “Something’s wrong. They shouldn’t even know about this tunnel,” she mumbled under her breath. “It’s impossible.”

  Sage wrenched her arm free. “Whether or not they should, they do.”

  She hadn’t come this close to fail now. Weston was counting on her—whether or not he realized it. Whatever obstacles were in the way, she wasn’t waiting anymore.

  “It’s just one, right?”

  Clarette bit the inside of her lip. “Probably. Unless there’s more than one standing really close to each other…”

  Sage cocked her head. “One way to know for sure.”

  Clenching her jaw in determination, she eased herself farther down the tunnel before Clarette could protest again, pausing as she reached the end of the wall. Crouching low, she held the blade of the knife near the floor, tilting it just enough to see the guard’s reflection as she turned.

  Her shoulders sagged. Unreal. Pulling the blade back quickly, she clutched it to her side as she stood and slunk a few paces back, facing Clarette again.

  “Well?”

  “I think you’re right about there being something wrong. I don’t think they believe I’m dead.”

  “Why do you—”

  “The guard… I know her.” Sage swallowed. “She almost beat me in the last Bokja Tournament—probably should’ve. But with two of us, she shouldn’t stand a—”

  “We can’t let her see us,” Clarette whispered, clutching Sage’s arm tightly. All the color had drained from her face.

  “Well, unless you know another route, we have to go this way,” she said, peeling her fingers from her arm, “and I really doubt she’s leaving.”

  “There isn’t another route,” Clarette snapped, her frustration mounting. “This is the last stretch before getting inside the Dungeon. It’s the only back way in. The main entrance is going to be guarded ten times as heavily. It’d be suicide to try that way either.”

  “So we go this way. We’re already here any—”

  “No. I told you.” Clarette’s jaw worked itself back and forth stiffly. “I’m not getting caught. The Lawless cause can’t die today—even if that means Weston has to.”

  “You’re joking.” Sage blinked. “She’s one person—she can’t catch us. We can take her out.” She snorted softly. “No great loss, trust me.”

  Clarette’s eyes blazed with anger. “Every life taken is a great loss,” she hissed, “regardless of your personal feelings.”

  “Knock her out, then.” Sage rolled her eyes. “But it’s her or Weston. Either way, we have to—”

  “Is someone there?” Carnabel’s voice echoed down the tunnel, interrupting their argument. “Show yourself!”

  Sage exchanged a look with Clarette, then shrugged. “If we don’t go out there, she’ll call for backup. We’ll get caught anyways.”

  “Don’t—” Clarette made another grab for Sage’s arm, but she’d already slipped out of reach, turning the corner. She figured Clarette would see reason faster with a little nudge.

  “Sage Indarra.” Carnabel’s eyes narrowed as she saw straight through her disguise. “They told me you might not really be dead.”

  Sage’s jaw tightened. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Didn’t expect you to be stupid enough to actually show up here though.” Carnabel reached for her bracelet.

  “That won’t do you any good.”

  “So it’s true.” Carnabel shook her head slowly, lowering her hand. “You’re Lawless.”

  Sage’s fingers twitched by her side, inches from the knife. She was still alone in the tunnel with Carnabel. It didn’t look like Clarette was going to back her up after all. “I think it’s safe to say we’ve never been on the same side.”

  She took a step forward, and Carnabel straightened, mirroring her movement.

  “If you think I’m just going to let you pass, you’re crazy.”

  “You’re not going to stop me,” Sage said through clenched teeth. Her eyes skipped over Carnabel’s shoulder, darting down the hall. Other than the two of them, it was still empty. There was no way she’d keep her from getting past.

  Carnabel snorted. “I don’t need to use a bracelet to stop you. It’s not like we have to play by tournament rules anymore.” She drew a short stick from her side. Electricity snapped across its tip as she pointed it at Sage.

  Sage pursed her lips. “You don’t want to fight me right now. I don’t have anything left to lose.”

  “Then why are you here?” Carnabel’s mouth twitched. “I think you have more to lose now than ever.”

  “Why am I here? Why are you here? You’ve never cared about anyone but yourself.” Sage’s gaze traveled down to her swollen stomach. “And they can’t even do anything to you while you’re still pregnant. I guess you must just love obeying their every order—or did you volunteer for this?”

  “You don’t know anything about me or what they can do,” Carnabel spat. “You’ve been hiding out on your benefactor’s perfect little estate where nothing bad would ever happen to you. Don’t pretend like you can relate to my life at all.”

  “Where nothing… You do realize why I’m here, don’t you?” Sage stared back at her, dumbfounded. “That perfect little estate is missing its benefactor. Or do you not care about someone who’s going to be killed for something they didn’t even do?”

  “People die all the time for all sorts of reasons,” Carnabel said coldly. “Mr. Bennick’s not that special. Neither are you.” She widened her stance, planting herself firmly between Sage and the door. “And you’re not getting through.�
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  “I don’t think you understand.” Sage drew the knife from her pocket and took a step forward. “You’re not going to stop me.”

  Carnabel’s eyes snapped from Sage’s face to the knife in her hand, worry flickering over her features. “You wouldn’t—”

  “Don’t assume you know anything about me either, Carnabel. Step aside.”

  “I can’t do that,” she said, gritting her teeth.

  “Fine.” Sage’s heart slammed against her chest as she took another step forward. If she wanted to save Weston, she didn’t have a choice.

  “Stop!” Clarette’s voice rang out, echoing down the tunnel.

  The determined expression on Carnabel’s face faltered as she looked past Sage and realized they weren’t alone. Sage ignored Clarette’s order and continued down the tunnel, using Carnabel’s surprise to gain an advantage—but she stopped when she realized Carnabel had completely dropped her guard and wasn’t even bothering to look at her anymore. Her attention was focused completely on Clarette.

  Clarette’s footsteps pounded directly behind Sage. She grabbed Sage’s arm, whirling her around. “I said ‘stop,’” she hissed angrily.

  “And I don’t take orders from you,” Sage snapped back at her, twisting free.

  “Clare?” Carnabel choked out, pulling Sage’s attention back to her.

  “You didn’t say you knew her,” Sage growled, eyeing Clarette distrustfully.

  “You need to let her by, Carn,” Clarette said gently, ignoring Sage.

  “I can’t. They said they’d—” Fear flickered behind Carnabel’s eyes. “—I-I can’t.”

  Clarette shook her head. “If this works, they won’t be able to do anything. And if it doesn’t,” she blew out an unsteady breath, “I’ll get you out. Promise.”

  “You can’t be serious.” Sage glared at her. “Do you know what she’s done? She’d just as soon kill you as—”

  “Stay out of it, Sage,” Clarette said, never once taking her eyes off Carnabel. “She won’t hurt me.”

  Sage stared between the two girls, and her jaw dropped. Even the briefest glance revealed such obvious similarities—the same dark, curly hair, the same curve of their profiles and slants of their noses—she wondered how she hadn’t realized it before.