by SF Benson
My eyes felt glued shut. I rubbed the sleep away and opened them to an empty room. The bright sun coming through the factory windows assaulted my eyes. I looked around the room for Zared. Where was he? My cell phone lay near my purse. Strange, I thought I put it inside my bag. I reached for it and discovered a text from him.
I’m doing this without you. No discussion. I shouldn’t have asked for your help. Yes, I needed your help to get Intrepid. But involving you put you at risk. I can’t keep doing that. I hope to see you again. Yours, Z.
What the hell? Had he played me? I reread the text. Yes, I needed your help to get Intrepid. But involving you put you at risk.
Why couldn’t he wait for me? My list of worries just grew. There was still one way for me to help him.
I arrived to a quiet apartment. My heart ached with the memory of Cris and Dad sitting on the sofa. They’d stop talking, acknowledge my presence, and then continue with their discussion. I gripped the doorknob. Cris wasn’t my biological brother, but I loved him, and I missed him. Would I ever see Dad again? I didn’t blame him for walking out. He thought we were safe.
I mulled over Zared’s text. I figured Intrepid’s whereabouts were mere speculation. Okay. So he used me to get Intrepid. Not a news flash. But it stung. Honestly, we deserved each other. Different motives—a search for tech, a search for an answer. Same outcome—we used each other to get what we needed. He looked for me. I stumbled into his life. Reality sucked. I had to get over myself, though. He needed my help. And if he died… No. I wouldn’t go there. I had the means to make it easier for Zared. Act. Don’t analyze it.
I exited the shower, toweled off, and went to my closet. My mission required a more professional approach. Black wool pants, matching jacket, cream silk blouse, and black flats would suffice. A change of clothes along with my leather jacket and a pair of boots went into a backpack. Stepping out of my room, I practically fell on my face when I spotted my mother on the sofa.
“So you're home?” My mother sized up my attire. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I’m late for an appointment.” I barged ahead toward the door.
“Tru, sit for a minute, please.”
I stopped at the kitchen and faced her. “Can we do this later? I don’t want to be late.”
“No,” she snapped. “This is important.”
I tilted my head back and exhaled. “Mother, I don't want to talk about Zared, his dad, or even Intrepid right now.”
My mother grimaced. “It's mother now? Well, my daughter. I need you to sit and listen.”
I didn’t have time for another manufactured excuse, but my mother didn’t leave me much choice. So, I sat by her in front of the window. The once brilliant sun now hid behind gray, ominous clouds. Leaves of burnt orange and goldenrod clung to the few trees. It was a typical New Detroit fall day. In three weeks, it would be Halloween, the ultimate make-believe game and one of my favorite holidays. I wished I could disappear into that fairy tale land right now. Something said celebrating the holidays this year might not happen.
“Tru, are you listening?”
“Sorry.” I slouched in my seat, wishing I could tune her out.
“Have you forgotten your promise?”
“No.” No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t forget it. Hopefully, she had no idea I planned skipping out on my betrothal and Inoculation Day. I’d deal with the consequences later.
“Be sure you don’t forget it.” She tapped her foot. “If you’re thinking about ignoring your promise, you should know some things about Zared.”
“Like?” How else would she bend the truth?
“You don't know him the way you think you do. Did you know his father created the New Order’s mandated vaccine?”
“And you wanted me to get the vaccine.” I crossed my legs. “So, it can't be that bad.”
“I can do without the sarcasm, young lady.”
“Whatever,” I said in a small voice.
“How do you know his father didn't send him to retrieve Intrepid's information? He may be as cold and calculating as his father.”
I rolled my eyes. She fed me a pack of lies wrapped in doubt. Sure, she could be right. He said his employer sent him for Intrepid. I didn’t have a clue who that employer was, but I didn’t think it was his father.
“Zared’s father had nothing to do with Intrepid. We learned about it after Cris gave me the card.”
“So Cris gave it to you.”
Damn! I forgot I told her I found it. I’m sorry big brother. I keep failing you. Oh well, I wasn’t a skilled liar like our mother. “What’s your point, Mother?”
“You think…”
She stopped talking and focused on something out the window. “Tru, I need you to leave right now.”
I followed her gaze and saw a team of men led by Eden exiting dark vehicles. Major problem. “We can leave out the back exit. Where's the card?”
“It's safe.” My mother reached underneath the coffee table and removed a gun. “Go! Now!”
What the hell! When did she get a gun? I grabbed my bags and ran to the front door. I heard the ding of the elevator. Too late. My stomach knotted. “Mom, they're here!”
“Go through your room! Hurry!” Mom cocked the gun.
“How did you—”
“Not now. Go!”
“Mom, come on!”
“No time. I said get out!”
My hands shook as I pushed the dresser aside, no time to look back. The front door of the vacant apartment flew open before I cleared the hole. Heavy footsteps ran through the rooms. I bolted into an empty closet, inhaled, and tried to stop shaking. Eden and her team entered our apartment.
“Drop your weapon now, Gabriela! Don’t make me shoot you!”
“Well, this is interesting. My daughter-in-law is Riza. How long have you planned this one?”
“Oh, this has been years in the making, I assure you.”
“Why?”
“All terrorists are caught. There’s no tolerance for threats.” Bitterness dripped from her words. “Where's the girl?”
“She didn't come home last night.”
“Search the apartment and the building. I want Tru Shepard found. And I'll need the information you gathered from Intrepid.”
“Intrepid? Hmmm, wasn't that a car made by Dodge back in the nineties?”
Mom’s comment made Eden angry. “You think you're so smart. I have ways of getting what I need.”
The front door slammed, and I scooted out of my hiding place. I eased the front door open. A team of brawny soldiers lumbered down the hall. As soon as they cleared the door, I dashed to the rear stairwell, taking the wooden stairs two at a time. No one detected me slipping behind a pillar. My resounding heart competed with the footsteps echoing through the parking garage. Two menacing soldiers dragged Mom between them, her hands in restraints. They pushed her inside the vehicle and drove off.
I crouched behind the pillar and called Zared. He answered on the third ring.
“They have my mother,” I blurted out.
Silence.
“Zared, did you hear me?”
“Yeah.” His voice was so low.
“Well, can we do this together now?"
“Tru—”
“Don’t you dare tell me no! I’ll go alone!”
I listened to him breathing. “Meet me near RMA. There’s a café across the street.”
“In an effort to maintain social order, citizenry is required to cast a vote in any public election regardless of classification.”
—Bill of Trust, the American Republic, 2020
Zared
There comes a time when a man has to do what’s right. Going it alone was the right thing to do. Bringing Tru along was too risky. And I didn’t care to argue about it. Her safety was priority. She didn’t see it that way, though. Tru thought she was super tough and able to take on the world. She wouldn’t listen to me. If things went right, we’d be together again soon. A belief
I would hold tightly.
My first stop after leaving the factory was to see an old friend. He was a lanky chestnut-colored brother who went by the name Motown. We met after I exited the Corps and began living on my own. Motown had many talents—one of them being basketball. If he hadn’t suffered a brain injury from a car accident, he would have turned pro. Motown got by with his other skills, namely acquiring things people needed. He helped me out a lot when I first started navigating the streets. I owed my life to him.
I handed him Eden's ID card. His strong body odor and halitosis wrinkled my nose.
“I need more than just the card, Motown.”
“Whatcha need?” He had an odd taste for retro clothing, donning mismatched pieces spanning the seventies, eighties, and nineties. Right now, he wore filthy ripped jeans with a faded tie-dyed T-shirt, a threadbare plaid flannel shirt, and scuffed combat boots.
“A ride and a piece,” I told him.
“Got a preference?” Motown shoved his hands in his pockets.
“I need to be convincing. Security has to believe I'm with CHA. The piece needs to be concealed.”
“You gonna need some new threads if you wanna pull this off.”
“Don’t make it too flashy. I need to fit in.”
“It's gonna cost you.” Motown bounced on his toes.
I grinned. His price was easy to pay—a rare piece of clothing, some food, or even a rare book. “I don't care. Y’know, I can get it to you. Uh, I need everything today.”
Motown rubbed his hands together. “Rush orders cost even more.”
“Doesn't matter. Y’know how to find me.”
My second stop was my childhood home. My house, like most of the homes on the street, remained vacant. When my father left, I stayed there for almost a year alone. Back then, I had nosy neighbors, so I had no choice but to leave.
I forced open the splintered wooden door and entered the rear of the house. The door led directly into the vandalized kitchen. Paint flaked off the yellow walls. Loose, discolored floor tiles littered my path. Broken cabinet doors hanging at odd angles made the room appear sad. All the appliances, copper, and anything else I could salvage were sold off for money. I looked past the devastation and focused on the good memories the room held—Mom baking Christmas cookies and my birthday cakes, family dinners, and raiding the fridge after school with friends. One day, perhaps another family would claim the space and make their own memories.
No time for reminiscing. There were things to do in my—father’s study. I slipped around a hole in the floor and entered the wood-paneled room. Where did I hide his stuff? I walked toward the bay window, knelt down, and pressed a panel near the floor. The board dropped, allowing me to retrieve my father’s journals. I placed them along with his files in my backpack. Before I left the room, I remembered Motown’s fee. A bookcase full of classic novels lined a wall, perfect payment for my friend. Then, I recalled the closet.
I walked back through the kitchen headed for the front hall closet. After jimmying the door loose, I pulled out a dark blue parka belonging to my father. Motown would appreciate its warmth.
My chest ached. It might be the last time I saw the place after today. There was no guarantee I would gain entry onto New Belle Isle. And if I did, there was no guarantee I’d leave the place. Well, my dwelling on it was pointless. I had a job to do, and people were counting on me.
My phone vibrated. Damn. It was Tru. She’d beg me to include her. I answered on the third ring.
“They have my mother.”
I didn’t say a word. I knew what she wanted.
“Z, did you hear me?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, can we do this together now?”
“Tru—”
“Don’t you dare tell me no! I’ll go alone!”
I knew it was wrong, but I gave in. “Meet me near RMA. There’s a café...”
“STEM education is of national importance. Through STEM the American Republic will once again grow a strong workforce with a stronger economy.”
—from the STEM Education League campaign brochure, 2020
I fingered the dark leather interior of the low-profile Lincoln sedan. The charcoal gray car, courtesy of his friend, was parked near a café down the street from RMA. I stared out the window. The image of Mom in restraints was etched in my mind. She tried to keep us safe, but I was self-righteous. For all I knew, my actions earned her the arrest. Whatever happened next might be my fault.
I peeked over at Zared. His jaw was set, and he stared straight ahead. He hadn’t spoken since I called him. Was he mad at me? I leaned against the car door. “Z?”
“What?” He didn’t make eye contact.
“What’s wrong?”
“You have to ask?” he replied flatly.
I ran my finger along the hem of my jacket. “Yeah,” I muttered.
“I didn’t want you to come.”
Well, that stung. If he wanted to do this on his own, perhaps I should let him. I choked back a sob.
He hit the steering wheel. “Damn, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings. I’m trying to keep you safe.” He faced me. “Your coming with me makes that difficult.”
“I can take care of myself.”
Zared gave a slight nod. “You did, and I’m tired of hearing it.”
“What?” I sat there with my mouth open.
“You can’t handle everything. There are bad people out there,” he yelled. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
I didn’t expect that. What was I supposed to say?
“I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t need you.” If I could save my mother myself, I would. Unfortunately, I needed help.
He reached for my hand. “I’m sorry.”
I yanked it away.
“Tru, I said I’m sorry.”
“Whatever.” He didn’t deserve my attitude. The events of the past few days were getting to me. “I didn’t mean that.”
Zared faced me. “What happened after you left the apartment?”
I cleared my throat. “I went to the garage. Eden and some Riza soldiers restrained my mom and drove off with her.” I drew in a breath and exhaled. “What are we going to do?”
He leaned across the console and hugged me. “You’re going to calm down first off.”
How would I do that? “Z, is this my fault?”
“What are you talking about?”
I pulled away from him. “The card didn’t just appear overnight. What if my accessing it activated something?”
He raised an eyebrow. “It’s possible. But—”
“I’m responsible for what happens next.” I twirled my hair around my finger. “Do you think they’re still watching my place?”
“Doesn’t matter. You're not going back there.”
“I don’t think I can live with myself if something happens to her.”
He stroked my arm. Before his touch calmed me, helped me forget my troubles. It wasn’t working anymore.
“Don’t worry about it right now. We’ll figure out a way to get to her.”
“Thank you.” I put my arms around his neck. It didn’t matter what Mom said. Having Zared in my life was a good thing.
“Tru?”
“What?”
“Did your mom have the card on her?”
We were back to the card. Was Mom right about his intentions? I sagged against the seat. “Zared, you want to tell me who needs it?”
His eyes widened. “You’re asking me that now?”
“Yes. Before we do anything else, I want to know.”
He shook his head and stared out the window.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He turned toward me. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He covered his eyes with a hand. “It’s not my father, if that’s what you’re thinking. And it isn’t anyone associated with the New Order.”
“Then, who?”
“Can we get
back to helping your mom?”
I was too tired to argue. “Fine.”
“The card?”
“I don’t know where she hid it. ‘It’s safe’ was all she said to me.”
“You said the tablet was hiding in plain sight?”
“Yeah. It had been in the kitchen cabinet the whole time. Right behind some pots and pans. Somehow, none of us found it. But I don't think she would have hidden it in the apartment this time. Too risky.”
“What about any favorite places?” He cocked his head. “Any place she went to a lot?”
Mom never said what she did in her spare time. Other than taking care of us, I didn’t know what she did all day.
“Okay. Y’know, we can rule out your mom hiding it close to home. CHA would have searched the apartment and building.”
Close to home. “Home, that’s it! I think I know where she hid it. We’ve got to go back to New Palmer.”
We didn’t speak the entire drive to our old neighborhood. The tension between us almost had a pulse. Zared needed to get over himself. He was either my protector or my boyfriend. I didn’t need both. I would keep myself safe. Right now, however, wasn’t the time to be worried about his concerns.
My childhood home was about a mile away from Zared’s house. We lived in a two-story home on Chesterfield Road. He pulled the car up to the curb of the house next door. The vacant tan-brick structure had seen better days. Paint peeled from the gutters, the black shutters hung off the house, and even the cement porch crumbled. Ironic that my life and my old home were falling apart.
He opened the glove compartment and removed a black cap and sunglasses, pocketing a flashlight. “Put these on. Better to be safe.” I wrinkled my nose, but he insisted. “I need you to do whatever I tell you. Understood?”
“Got it.” I put on the cap and glasses. If he wanted me to be safe, I pulled out my knife, and tucked it into my waistband.
Zared raised an eyebrow.
“Safety.”
He nodded.
The driveway I used to coast my bike down was now a cracked mess. I sidestepped the cracks and walked to the side of the house. A gaping hole lay in the middle of the screen door, and the wooden one behind it stood open. Zared blocked me. He pushed the door wider and stepped inside.