“Wait, wait,” I say, pulling away. “What is that thing?”
“It’s a Receiver, and everyone has one. If you don’t, that will be suspicious.” He flips the gadget over. “Don’t worry, this one is disabled. I just need to embed it in your palm.”
Embedding doesn’t sound pleasant, but I obviously can’t walk around in public without this Receiver thing. I uncurl my fingers and let Heath jab the glowing orb into my palm. He holds my hand firmly, slopping some metallic glue around the edges of the gadget until it looks like I’ve had this thing in my hand since birth.
“Painkiller?” he asks, stepping away to wash his hands. He turns back to me with a syringe. “Works fast.”
I stare at the needle, unsure about everything in this futuristic time. “No, I’m good.” The pain in my palm has already calmed to a dull ache.
“Okay,” he says. “Now you just need an alternate identity.”
“Really? You think there’s a Saige Phillips here?”
“No,” he says, pressing his fingers on his kitchen counter in a pattern. A picture of an elderly woman appears, with the label “Saige Phillips” above it. My vitals are listed below, complete with my birthdate, age, hair and eye color, and location.
I gape at the information, but Heath wipes it away as quickly as it appeared. “Don’t freak out,” he says. “But you died last year, and it would be hella suspicious to suddenly have you reappear. So you need a new, different identity.”
“Okay,” ghosts between my lips.
“Any ideas?” Heath settles against the counter and crosses his arms. His green-gray eyes are kind, though he isn’t smiling.
I can’t use the name of anyone I know. They could still be alive—or worse, recently deceased like me. I’ve never thought of becoming someone else; it’s taken so much energy just to be myself.
“Lucy….” I start. I honestly can’t think of a last name.
“Yeager?” Heath suggests.
“Sure,” I say. “I really don’t care. Lucy Yeager it is.” I examine my palm. “Do I need to do anything with this?”
Heath pushes away from the counter. “Cascade will have the software to create your identity at her house.”
“Will you know how to use it?” I ask, in case he’s forgotten that I just told him that she was arrested.
He cuts me a look out of the corner of his eye. “Let’s hope so. Let’s take care of this identity problem, and then we’ll go see my brother.”
“Your brother? Where is he?”
Heath shuffles away from me, looking part scared, part angry. “He’s in prison, because well, he was arrested on rift-walking allegations.”
My eyebrows fly up. “Rift-walking?” I step away from Heath. Maybe I can’t trust him. My brain screams, Of course you can’t trust him! You don’t even know him!
“Yeah. My dad, well, he lost his employment contract a while ago, and we needed the money. Cooper said he’d found this great new appointment, and it paid really well.” He glares at me as I take another step back. “We didn’t know his job was rift-walking, or that he’s been doing it for a few years now.”
I swallow. I don’t know Heath, and I certainly can’t tell if I can trust him. I move closer to him, get right into his face. “I can trust you, right? Tell me you’re helping me here.”
He gazes back at me steadily. “You can trust me.” He breaks eye contact. “Besides, my parents are appealing to the judicial council to see if we can visit him,” he mumbles. “Nothing’s been approved yet.”
I still don’t know if I can trust him, but Heath’s my only chance right now.
Twenty minutes later, Heath turns down the sidewalk toward a small, two-story house. The exterior is blue, and the lawn is green and flourishing. I think of the girl with the sticky spikes and rotating lights on her face. I don’t see her gardening.
“You coming?” Heath calls from the front door. I hurry toward him, not sure what I’m going to find inside the house. The door gives way to a small living area with a couch and an old armchair. I imagine Cascade lounging there in her free time, but the surrounding area is surprisingly free of needles and whatever else it takes to embed lights into skin.
“Hello, Heath,” an old man’s voice says, feeble and cracked with disuse. “Who’s your friend?”
I turn to meet an elderly man. He’s stooped with age, but his eyes are bright green—just like mine. I stumble away from him, my heart jumping as I clutch my chest. A moan leaks from my mouth, half of the scream I’m struggling to contain.
The old man’s eyes widen, and he quickly turns to Heath, who introduces me as Lucy Yeager, friend of Cascade.
The man shakes his head. “She is not Lucy Yeager.” He turns back to me. “What are you doing here, Saige?”
My mind has been reeling for the ten seconds it’s taken Heath to say who I am. But hearing the old man say my name cinches what I know is true.
I’m looking into the aged eyes of my younger brother. “Shep?” barely falls out of my mouth.
He takes a stilted step forward, suppressing a cough as he does. “What are you doing here?” His eyes blaze with angry fire, matching the bite in his tone. “How did you get here?”
I shake my head, needing a few more seconds to gather the facts and make them line up. I turn away from him and step into the kitchen.
A table holds a collection of dishes and junk. Across from the table is a large wall-screen with a crawling insect snaking it’s way through the blackness. It smells like someone just made something fried for lunch.
Behind me, Heath asks, “You know her?”
Shep answers, but his voice is too low for me to catch. My brother lives with Cascade—no wonder she knows about my family. Shep’s had a lifetime of experience with Mom, with the time rift. He could’ve told Cascade anything.
Heath joins me in the kitchen and crosses to a huge bin of gadgets beneath the wall-screen. He plucks a wand from it and returns to where I’ve frozen near the table. “Open your eyes wide,” he says.
I want to ask why, but the question dies inside. I’ll do whatever he says to get by in this time period, whatever it takes to find the truth. Heath flashes light in both my eyes and twists sections of the wand. Finally he says, “Done. Your retinal scans will now log you as Lucy Yeager.” He returns the wand to the bin. “We won’t worry about fingerprints yet, because we don’t need those to get into the Time Bureau.”
I don’t like the way he says “yet” as if there will come a time when I’ll need to forge my fingerprints. For the first time, I wonder how long I’ll be here. I didn’t think any of that through before I stepped into the rift. Hopefully Mom won’t kill me when I get home.
“You know Cascade’s grandfather?” Heath whispers to me. His expression is earnest, almost desperate, for me to tell him that of course I don’t know this old man.
“That is my brother,” I say with an eerie calmness to my voice. “He’s Cascade’s grandfather?”
Heath shrugs. “That’s what we’ve always thought.” He steps back, and I can tell his mind is whizzing through information. “Does that mean you and Cascade are related?”
“She and Cascade are definitely related,” Shep says, stepping next to me. “Saige, I don’t want you to freak out, but….”
“But what?” I look at him full-on, recognizing my brother in his eyes despite the wrinkles and years of his life I haven’t experienced.
“Cascade is really Chloe.” Shep holds onto my arm and steers me to a chair at the kitchen table. Good thing, too. If he didn’t have a hold of me, I’m pretty sure I would’ve fallen.
I gaze up at him. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that when Chloe disappeared when we were kids, she came to the future. She didn’t die. She’s been living with me for the past four years.” Shep settles heavily into the chair next to mine.
“She came back,” I say, almost to myself. “Remember?” I search his weathered face for any hint of sympa
thy. I find it in his eyes, in his sad smile.
“She needed a ride into the city,” Shep says. He growls, his fists clenching. “At least you’ve met Price for longer than thirty seconds. She’s shut everyone out, afraid they’ll find out who she really is.”
“Price wouldn’t—” Heath starts, but Shep holds up his hand.
“I know. Cascade has told me the boy is trustworthy enough times to make me believe it.”
I look up when they stop talking, my fingers aching because I’ve clenched them so tight. “I just can’t believe it,” I finally say. “She was right there and didn’t say anything.” An uncontrollable fury rises through me—at Shep, at Chloe, at everyone and everything. “I hate—”
“I didn’t know either,” Shep says. “Until she showed up on my doorstep four years ago, I believed she was dead.”
Somehow the fact that I wasn’t the only one left out comforts me. I still can’t release my fists, and my chest feels too tight. Shep covers my hand with his, the apology I need to hear from Chloe filling the silence surrounding us.
“Come on,” Heath says. “I got a chat from my parents that said we’ve been given permission to visit my brother. We can come back here later, but visiting hours at the Bureau end at three.”
We ride the train—the el-rail Heath calls it—into the city. There aren’t cars or trucks on the street. The train is packed, as it seems to be the only method of transportation. People walk, and the rare few are riding in bicycle-pulled carriages.
Heath tells me what to expect at the Time Bureau, and he laughs and touches me in a carefree way. He knows exactly how to act to keep any suspicious eyes away from us. I do my best to play along with him, but my stomach feels like it’s full of angry bees. I don’t have time for this; I need to find Cascade— Chloe—and get answers.
“She’ll be at the Bureau too,” Heath assures me. “I don’t know where in the Bureau, but if she’s a walker, she’ll be somewhere close to Cooper.”
That shuts me up, though I still feel like I’m wasting time by going to visit Heath’s brother.
Everything goes without a hitch as we check-in at the Time Bureau. My retinal scans show me as Lucy Yeager, and Heath’s name gets him past the electronic receptionist. As our clearances are confirmed, I gaze around the lobby.
The floor is shiny hardwood; the furniture custom-made; the lighting soft and beautiful. The people speak in hushed tones and move with purpose. I wonder what this building is hiding that requires such effort to put visitors at ease.
We’re escorted downstairs by one of those machine-like men, sans the helmet. He’s human, though he has a long scar running from his chin to his left ear. I don’t dare speak as we go down, down, down. At least there are bright lights at regular intervals. I feel somewhat calmed by Heath’s presence behind me, and I’m grateful the guard stops outside the cell we’ve requested, because I have no idea who his brother is. There are no doors and no walls on these cells. Everyone can see me, and I can see all of them. I shift behind Heath as I feel the weight of many eyes on me.
“Coop,” Heath says as the guard walks away.
“Heath,” he says. “Mom said you got clearance. I can’t believe it.” He’s grinning from ear to ear.
“They appealed to Privatize,” Heath says. “They have some serious weight. I don’t know all the details, but here we are. We have ten minutes with you.” He can’t stop smiling either. “Mom and Dad said they came earlier.” Watching them, I realize how much Heath loves his brother, how much he’s missed him. I feel a rush of emotion for my sister, even though I’m beyond angry with her for the secrets, the abandonment.
“They did,” Cooper confirms.
“Any new additions?” Heath asks.
“Next door,” Cooper says, “I might have seen him in my social group or something.”
Heath nods like that means something to him, but the cells on either side of his are empty. “Maybe his old man will be able to get him out.”
“Maybe,” Cooper says. “What else from Privatize?”
The names they throw around sound like codenames the Secret Service would assign to the President’s family. I can’t keep track of them, and even if I could, it wouldn’t matter.
As he and his brother chat for a few more minutes, my impatience rises and boils. A guard calls, “Two minutes,” and I step in front of Heath.
His brother is older than him, his jaw more defined. His eyes are greener—more like mine—and his sunken cheeks and the bags under his eyes testify to what this prison is like.
“Did you see Cascade Kaufman come in? She’s my sister.”
Cooper hisses when I say Cascade’s name, but I don’t care. “She’s not from here,” I continue, “and—”
“What’s your name?” he asks without moving his mouth. “Keep your voice down.”
“Saige Phillips. I need to know where Cascade is.”
“I haven’t seen her yet. But I’ve got people on it.”
Heath puts his hand on my shoulder and moves me back. “Calm down. Cooper has a network here, and he’ll find out what he can.”
“But she can’t stay here—”
“Lucy,” Heath bites out, and his sudden harshness makes me take a deep breath. “He’s been working on a plan. Don’t do this.”
“A plan for what?” I whisper.
“To get out of here,” Cooper says. “If Cascade’s here, I’ll make sure she gets out.”
I don’t like the way he says if, but the guard returns, and I don’t have time to ask anything else.
Price
ON THE WAY THROUGH THE SECURITY HUB, I see Dad lurking in the hall. He’s wearing his crispest, blackest suit. Everything about him screams authority. Even Wilder stiffens in front of me as we exit the control room and meet Dad in the hallway.
“Mr. Ryerson,” Wilder says, extending his hand for Dad to shake.
“Did you get what you need?” Dad asks him as they clasp hands. He hasn’t acknowledged me yet. I straighten, determined not to let him make me feel small. I’m not sure it does anything, because my status with my dad is iffy at best.
“Yes, sir.” Wilder glances at me, his expression guarded. “Your son is extraordinarily gifted with programming, exactly as his file indicates.”
Dad spares me a withered look. “That he is. I’ll take him back to…. I need to speak with my son.” Dad reaches for me, and his fingers dig into my shoulder. In the lift, he directs it up with the press of his pinkie finger to a datapad, and moments later we arrive in Sector T—which is the ritzy office of the Time Keeper. I feel sick just being here.
Mom jumps up from the couch where she’s been waiting. “Price!” She gathers me into a hug, and I take the moment to steel myself for whatever’s coming next.
“Did you get your work crisis sorted out?” I ask.
“It’ll take a few more days,” she responds. “Your dad and I are staying at the city apartment.” She releases me and holds me at arm’s length, examining me. “You’re okay?”
Of course I’m not okay. I was beaten last night by one of Dad’s men. I haven’t seen myself since my shower privileges, but I’m sure my face still looks battered.
“I knew I should’ve been monitoring your Link activities better.” She drops her hands. “The Privatize movement, Price? Really?”
I cut a glance at Dad, and his face says it all. My gut twists at the lies he’s told to cover his tracks. The scrapes and bruises could be attributed to a fight with anyone, and Dad’s done everything to make sure it doesn’t come back to him.
“He’s fine, Melissa,” Dad says, moving further into his lobby and settling into a leather armchair. “He just got caught up in the wrong thing, with the wrong people. He’s very sorry. Aren’t you, son?”
“I’m very sorry,” I say, the words as hollow as I feel inside. I wonder what Mom would do if I told her about the beating, about the rift, about Dad’s lies. Would she believe me?
“Price, what—
?” Mom starts, tilting my head to get a better look at my wounded cheek.
“He’s okay, honey,” Dad says, a warning for me to not say another word. “I’m going to get him out of here as fast as I can. The Bureau is simply overreacting with all things privacy right now.”
I clear my throat and step away from Mom. “I don’t need special treatment,” I say. What I really mean: I don’t want your help.
“Nonsense,” Dad says. “You always use a connection if you have it.” He focuses on Mom again. “Probably not until tomorrow morning. The Hoods can drag their feet during an investigation. I’m speeding them as much as I can.”
“Well, he can’t go back to the house alone,” Mom says, brushing her fingers along my eyebrow. A twinge of pain trickles down my cheek. “Can you sleep on the couch at the apartment?”
“Of course he can,” Dad says, sealing the conversation with his tone of finality. His pointed look screams of his displeasure about involving Mom, with having to provide me with the special treatment I don’t want.
Dad kisses Mom goodbye in the lobby, then glares holes into me before turning toward the hidden staircase leading down to the prison.
“I really am trying to get you out of here quickly,” he says as he taps in the entrance code.
“Don’t bother,” I say. “I’ve already been beaten. What more can they do?”
“Plenty,” he says, casting me a dark look.
“Not without your permission.” Everything in my tone says that I know he was the one who authorized my attack.
“Price, I’m doing what I can to help you.”
“Sure you are,” I say. “What about Cascade? Can you help her?”
“I have no loyalty to Cascade,” Dad says.
I don’t bother asking him about Cooper. He won’t do anything to help my friends. I don’t want him to help me. After only one flight down, my Circuit goes offline. I catalog the location so I know how far I have to go to get access.
Dad leads me to D, blocking my way in. “Dinner will be here soon. I’ll send word on how the investigation is shaping up. Be discreet.”
Rift (Rift Walkers #1) Page 25