The response from the many people waiting in the March sun was almost deafening. Young, old, women, men, children, all of them made a statement by being here today, and, at the same time, creating a safe passage for those already on their way.
“Years ago, my friend and I wrote a college paper that caused a little bit of a stir,” Hilary said. “I’m glad to see its ideas are still causing a stir.”
The crowd cheered. Someone waved a rainbow flag. “In the past few months,” she continued, “we have been called many things. Many lies have been told, about us and the people we love most. You know it didn’t stop at lies.” For a moment, the crowd fell silent. In the first few rows, many were Greene Industries employees and their families.
“Recall Miller!” somebody shouted, starting a chorus.
Kerry could tell Hilary was trying to suppress the smile. This other little project, courtesy of a seriously pissed off Aimee Hendricks, was going well.
“I have no doubt we will succeed to do so, but remember, what we are doing is bigger than that. Bigger than our little settlement in California we call Exodus. Ultimately, we want to create a world where everyone is equal, here, there, everywhere in the world. It might take longer than our lifetimes, but we will get there. We will get there,” she repeated.
It was Kerry’s turn to smile at her longtime friend, received like a rock star. Hilary stepped aside to let her take the microphone.
“We are well aware that is frightening to some. If the idea of women being equal, in the home, the workplace, and everywhere else, frightens you, then, well, be scared. If you think we intend to turn the tables on what’s been done wrong for centuries, that is not the case, but you know that already. Thank you for being here with us. We’re going to need every one of you.”
Their timing was prefect. This was the ray of hope these people had been grasping for long since before Miller won the election—and they had been waiting for it too, so much. Today, it had become real.
* * * *
“What the hell are you doing?” Vivien shook her head at a sullen Lee. “Let’s find Dana. I don’t think you’ll be going to California tonight.”
“What are you talking about? Viv! Please, no, come on, you said you’d let me explain.”
Vivien spun around, frustrated for many other reasons than Lee calling her nicknames. “What do you expect? You’ve been feeding information to Camden from day one!”
“Look, I know what you’re thinking.” Maybe Vivien was most frustrated about the fact that Lee didn’t seem to think she’d done anything wrong at all. “Let me tell you, there’s not such a big difference between all of you. You all make the other one the bad guy, the enemy.”
“Then you didn’t get what our work is about, but I’m not surprised about it.”
“Viv.”
“I don’t think we were ever this informal.”
Lee shrugged. “Okay, as you want it. I’ve been doing an internship with the governor and we really needed to figure out what you guys were planning, especially when the whole Exodus thing came up.”
“Oh, I feel so much better,” Vivien snapped.
“Come on! There are some people who believe abortion is wrong. What’s your plan with them, arrest them all?”
“I wish I could arrest them when they start harassing women and spitting on them! You saw the picture Fuller sent me? What’s it to him or his family, for Christ’s sake? You can believe what you want, that’s not the point, but you’re still not a doctor or in that particular woman’s shoes, and unless you are, your opinion doesn’t matter!”
“That’s cold,” Lee muttered.
Vivien forced herself to take a deep breath and take some of her own advice. Stop arguing where you couldn’t ever win an argument. She had to adjust to the whiplash of realizing diligent Lee was one of Miller’s spies. How could they have not seen something like that coming?
“They are not all bad. Besides,” Lee said, “don’t you think it’s kind of selfish what you’re doing?”
“How so?”
Today was a celebratory day, she had to remind herself. This, too, shall pass. First Wave had been a success, The Surge left to a few angry stubborn minds, more a gurgle than a surge. Vivien was surprised how disappointed she felt. She had almost missed Lee while working with Susan Wells, and after they’d worked through some minor misunderstandings, she had considered her a friend.
“Well, I’m all for marriage for everyone.”
“That’s generous of you. Do you know that Miller campaigned for a constitutional amendment to ban all marriages and civil unions for same-sex couples? I thought you’d learned about the implications of that at the center.”
“I did, but—” Lee was biting her lip. “That’s just Miller. Camden supports civil unions, and some people I’ve met would actually be okay with going all the way. You’ll be having a baby though. Isn’t it unfair to intentionally bring a child into this world when they will never know their real parents? I think kids are better off with a mom and a dad.”
…and because you think that, it should be the law of the land, right?
“I can’t tell you what to think,” Vivien said, “and I won’t.”
“Thanks.” Lee smiled hesitantly. She looked relieved. “You know what, I actually feel better. I didn’t expect to like you guys so much, that made it even harder to pretend. I’m not really a feminist either. I guess those ideas are a bit too extreme for me.”
“Okay.” Vivien had a hard time not gritting her teeth. It was for reasons like that she didn’t engage in dispute with some who sent her scathing emails via the center’s homepage, or in other places on the internet. You could only bang your heads against so many brick walls before you got a concussion. Young women making anti-feminist statements had always gotten to her. “I have one question for you, and you don’t even have to answer, just give it some thought. Do you make decisions during any given day?”
Lee’s confusion was obvious. “Of course I do. Why—?”
“Now think about for how many of those decisions, big or small, you need to ask the permission of your dad, your brother, or your husband. I guess you will find that there will be very few, if any. Ask yourself whom do you owe that to. That is all.”
Lee was silent for a long moment.
“If you rat me out to Dana, Miller will fire me too.”
Vivien hesitated. There was more to consider than her own beliefs and sensibilities. “If I don’t tell her, you’ll keep leaking information to them, which impacts the safety of our work. I’m sorry, I can’t let this go.” She assumed Miller’s office was paying her a lot more for her internship considering the center’s meager budget—even when you counted the Greenes’ involvement.
“What if I—”
There was a loud crash that seemed to make the ground under their feet vibrate.
Lee blanched. “Oh my God, what was that?”
All of a sudden, there was hectic activity around them, people hurrying outside to find out what had happened. Vivien was frozen for a moment, caught up in a déjà-vu of the day of the protest at the center. She had no illusion about what had happened. Sanctioned by Miller or not, one of the most extreme followers on his side had to have decided that The Surge wasn’t enough.
Kerry.
She’d deal with Lee later. At the moment, she had to fight the memory of another horrible day. Vivien prayed that they’d be lucky just one more time. When she made it through the throes of people to the front of the stage, she smelled smoke. There were sirens, people running, the police and security personnel doing their best to keep everyone calm and safe.
She couldn’t find Kerry. What happened? Had anyone planted a bomb? She made it across the street where she tried to make a call, but the lines were busy. Everyone wanted to know about their loved ones. The smoke came from a building two blocks down, the wind making the sensation more obtrusive. It was a small consolation that those were offices that weren’t occupied on a Satu
rday. She hoped no one got hurt. Hopefully, the security staff for this event would be able to control the crowd, keep people from panicking. Vivien shuddered. There were children in the crowd. She watched, helpless, as a group of youths kicked down a barrier. People poured out into the street, barely avoiding more arriving police and ambulances.
Vivien stepped back, a jolt of adrenaline flooding her body when engine of the black SUV parked in the alley roared to life, its side door yanked open from inside.
The world turned surreal when someone grabbed her from behind, pulling her inside. A blanket over her head, the prick of a needle in her thigh. She lost consciousness before the vehicle even moved.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Exodus is doomed to fail,” Governor Miller said at his impromptu press conference. Beside him, his wife smiled and nodded. “They want to keep us, our children safe? Look at what happened today! Their philosophy is to keep people enslaved by giving them everything without asking for anything in return. No responsibility, no accountability. This is not what we believe in.”
What do we believe in? Annette LeBlanc wondered as she watched his speech on TV. She was still uncomfortable living with people whose take on life seemed alien to her, yet at the same time, she resented Miller for that little smirk on his face. People had been injured today by flying glass and debris. Fortunately, no one had been killed, thanks to the quick and efficient intervention of the police and private security on the site.
Apparently, explosives had been set off in an empty office building, more to make a point than to hurt anyone. The building belonged to a group that did frequent business with the Greenes and had been on the list of ‘None of our Business’, an initiative against Miller’s regulation that any coverage of contraception had to be discussed with the employer. Annette studied Mrs. Miller, the state’s First Lady. She and her husband had White House aspirations, proponents of amending the constitution to reserve marriage between a woman and a man, and seeking to overturn Roe v. Wade. Annette had once believed in these things as well, though she wasn’t sure if she believed in marriage between a woman and a man, when everything she’d hoped and dreamed had failed her so badly. A few weeks of old friends avoiding her like she was suffering from some contagious disease, Barry spending her money as long as he still could to make the point he’d never cared about anything else, at all. In fact, during the growing number of days she’d lived without wondering whether she’d done anything to deserve his wrath, she felt like recovering from a long and severe disease. She wasn’t sure yet what that meant for the rest of her life, or if she, in her heart, could trust other women she’d never met to make those long-reaching decisions for themselves. She was tired.
* * * *
“The phone lines are still crazy. We will find her,” Hilary assured her friend, feeling inadequate. She was used to Kerry being the fearless one, Kerry who had saved Marc’s life and was now on the verge of falling apart. The crowd had been cleared from the event site, the media talking about twenty to thirty people who had suffered cuts, bruises, and some smoke inhalation. A few had to be treated in the ER, but thank God, no one was injured critically. Frances was safe at home.
Vivien was missing.
Julia remembered she had gone to talk to Lee, but the young intern had been no help, terrified and shocked by the explosion even though they had been quite far from danger. Hilary could sympathize—this was a shock for everyone, and it could have been so much worse. At least all of the participants of First Wave were on their way safely and would start or continue their work as planned.
Everything was on the line for Vivien and Kerry with the baby on their way and their dedication to Exodus. Everything could be taken away in a heartbeat. Hilary shuddered. Those were not thoughts to share with Kerry, or to have in the first place.
“We checked all hospitals. Nothing,” Marc who had joined them, said. He briefly laid a hand on Hilary’s shoulder, understanding she needed some reassurance as well, in order to give it.
“She wouldn’t just wander away,” Kerry insisted, close to tears. After the explosion, she had to help her colleagues restore order. As soon as she could, she had gone looking for Vivien, to no avail. No one had seen her.
Hilary had a hard time keeping worst case scenarios off her mind. She assumed it was for the same reason that Kerry was barely holding it together. She sat on the chair, leaning forward, arms wrapped around herself. Hilary was watching her closely for any signs of fainting or getting sick.
Of course Vivien wasn’t irresponsible, but shock did strange things to people. If she didn’t want to see Kerry, it could only mean something terrible had happened. Stop it, Hilary chastised herself. You’re not helping anyone.
Kerry jumped to her feet. “I’ll go down to the police station, see if they got anything. I asked a few friends to help.”
Hilary was certain that anyone who knew more than they did would have gotten back to them already, but she didn’t say that out loud. “I’ll come with you,” she offered. It was a testimony to Kerry’s state of mind that she didn’t argue.
Their roles had reversed.
* * * *
Kerry was used to keeping her head in a dangerous situation. She didn’t even know if there was an imminent danger, to Vivien and their child, and still she couldn’t grasp a clear thought.
The city was eerily quiet. There had been a few quarrels between protesters on either side, but nothing serious. She would know already if Vivien had gotten in the middle of any of it, wouldn’t she?
“I’m so sorry,” Elsa said. “No one has heard anything. You know you’d be the first to know.”
For a brief, irrational moment, Kerry thought what if they had all conspired to lie to her, that something too horrible to imagine had already happened, and they were still trying to find a way to tell her. Joanie Vincent had lost her life, just like that. No one was safe.
Without giving any explanation to Elsa or Hilary, she made an abrupt turn for the break room, even though this wasn’t her workplace anymore. Kerry closed the door behind her and leaned against it, struggling against the meltdown. She couldn’t afford it, not now. Once Vivien was safe, she could indulge herself.
Not now.
* * * *
Vivien came to with a pounding headache, feeling clammy and nauseous. Blindfolded. She couldn’t move. Her hands were tied behind her back. The smell suggested a moldy basement, and that was all the rational exploration her mind could offer before a choking fear set in, making tears run down her face beyond her control. She had been drugged and kidnapped. Why? The first part was easy—she was certain it had to do with her involvement in Exodus. She’d been ridiculed and threatened before, but no one had ever gone to these lengths. What could they possibly want?
They had sent hundreds of people on their way in the First Wave. There was no going back. Miller’s recall election was as good as done. Why now?
It was hard to think when Kerry and the baby were all on her mind. For all she knew, Kerry was probably safe—or had they gone after all the founding members of the project?
Oh God.
“Stop bawling.” The voice made her cringe. “It won’t help you.”
I’ve got someone who will, though, and she’s going to kick your ass.
* * * *
Walk away and we’ll let her go. If you stop shoving your immoral lifestyle down people’s throats, you can still go and live it somewhere else. Stop the madness. No police. If you don’t follow our rules, we’ll have to teach you a lesson.
Hilary shared a worried look with Marc before she directed her attention back to Kerry who was wringing her hands in her lap. She was probably imagining them around the throat of the person who had sent this text message with Vivien’s cell phone. An attempt to trace the phone after had failed.
Their quest had gone far beyond a political statement, and the personal costs were already much higher than they’d ever imagined.
* * * *
; Celeste could have cried with relief when she finally saw Jessica enter the chat room. The images that were on TV tonight had disturbed her, even though no one got hurt badly. People trapped, unable to get away, unable to—She forced her attention back to the screen. All five of them were there, talking about today’s events.
“I’m trying, okay,” Ophelia typed. “Give me a little time? I’m not that guy from ‘Nikita.’”
“Sorry.” Jessica was unusually curt. Celeste realized she had missed part of the conversation. She wished she wouldn’t feel so tense, ready to jump out of her skin. First Wave wasn’t the last chance. While many people had left for California today, naming it had been metaphorical. Many construction workers and contractors had begun the work a long time ago, and the First Wave participants wouldn’t be the last to leave. Still, she found it hard to remain hopeful now that Jessica had left. For a little while, she had felt warm and safe. It hadn’t lasted long enough.
“What happened?” she asked anxiously. Criminals were often safe in a crowd, because people tended to look away.
Leah filled her in. “Vivien Collins was taken after the explosion, so we assume it was a distraction.”
“What? By whom and why?” Celeste’s fingers flew over the keyboard. She was grateful for their means of communication, because she wouldn’t have been able to speak. It could always be worse. Horrible things could happen. She could feel herself start to hyperventilate.
“Stay calm,” Jessica said. “We don’t know yet. It could be one of those groups that operate on their own, but are on board with Miller’s ideas.”
It would have been easier to stay calm if Jessica had actually been here with her. Maybe. Celeste had seen Vivien Collins on TV a few times. She hadn’t been in the spotlight much, but of course being a friend of Hilary Greene’s, and Kerry Rivers’ lover, guaranteed media interest. It would have been impossible for them to keep it a secret that they were planning to get married in California. Collins was pregnant.
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