The Defectors (Defectors Trilogy)

by Benner, Tarah

  “No, sorry,” said Amory. His eyes flickered to hers, and I could have sworn his gaze hardened.

  “Come on, I’ll pay you for them. I haven’t had a cigarette in ages.”

  “We don’t have any,” said Roman. “Not a lot of commodity products out here, and it’s risky to go into town for the PMC supply shipment. We get everything at the Exchange.”

  She stared him down.

  “What a shame.”

  “How long do you plan on staying?” asked Logan.

  “Just one day, I expect,” said Rulon. “It would be nice to rest a bit. We won’t be putting you out, I hope?”

  “Of course not,” said Ida. “In fact, we welcome the company. We don’t get too much news from far away these days. It seems like we have fewer and fewer illegals passing through the last few months. Getting riskier to make a run for it, I suppose . . . what with all the checkpoints everywhere.”

  “Very true. Well, we are grateful for your hospitality. I’m sure we can work out some arrangement. We have plenty of connections along the black market trade routes.”

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” said Ida. She paused for a beat. “Actually, now that you mention it . . .” She trailed off. “No, I couldn’t ask for such a big favor. It’s too much.”

  “Anything. We’re happy to help in any way we can.”

  “Well, it’s the strangest thing, but you’re headed east, and our newest ward is seeking safe passage that way as well.” She suggested it so smoothly — as if the idea had just occurred to her.

  “I don’t see why that would be a problem. We have plenty of room in the cargo area.”

  “Oh, Haven.” Ida beamed. “Isn’t that wonderful!”

  I nodded. “Thank you.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly are we dealing with?” asked Rulon.

  I hesitated. Was he asking how much trouble I was in?

  “I’m sorry. May I?” He held out his hand.

  I looked across to Amory, puzzled. His eyes flicked to my arm, where the incision he had made was healing into a perfect line.

  I held out my arm, palm turned upward, and placed my wrist in Rulon’s outstretched hand. I shivered when his rough hand closed over my skin.

  He studied me. “You’re a defector, I see. How long ago was your CID removed?”

  “About two weeks ago.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “New blood. That’s very exciting.”

  I didn’t like the way he said it.

  “My friend Greyson was undocumented, and he was arrested by the PMC,” I said. “I need to get him out of Chaddock.”

  “What did you have in mind?” His question was not unkind, and it was not a challenge. He seemed merely curious.

  “I don’t know how to do it, but I have to try. I have cash. Maybe if I bribed a guard or —”

  Godfrey snorted. “They don’t want your money, kid.”

  I felt my face grow hot.

  Rulon nodded. “A bribe won’t work. But if you come to Sector X with us, getting your friend out of Chaddock shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’d be grateful for your help.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how much room do you have?” asked Logan. She directed the question at Rulon, but she was avoiding his gaze.

  He looked surprised. “I suppose we have plenty of room. We don’t travel with a lot of cargo at once. I’m afraid the risk of theft and carrier attacks is too great in the circles we frequent.”

  “I’d like to come,” she said.

  I looked at her in surprise. She smiled, but I could tell she wasn’t coming for the same reason as Amory. She was coming because with the PMC taking Ida’s farm, she would have nowhere else to go. I was happy, but I couldn’t help feel that I would be responsible for the outcome. If I didn’t rescue Greyson, or if we were caught . . .

  “Is there room for me?” asked Max cheerfully.

  “I suppose,” said Rulon, looking to his companions.

  Mariah smiled at Max, and Logan shot her a deadly glare.

  “I’m coming too,” said Amory, looking at me.

  I flashed him a look, but I knew there would be no stopping him.

  “You don’t get to have all the fun,” he said to me. He was grinning, but his eyes were full of warning.

  “Oh!” Ida looked teary. “I’ll be an empty nester.”

  Roman looked at his food, and I felt sorry for him. He’d isolated himself quite a bit, and although I wouldn’t miss his scathing remarks and snide looks, he still felt like one of them . . . one of us.

  After dinner, Ida showed the rebels out to the guesthouse — the old outbuilding behind the farmhouse reserved for strangers just passing through for the night. Roman left quietly while the rest of us stayed to help Max clear the table and wash dishes.

  Max seemed preoccupied with watching Logan, who was uncharacteristically quiet. Amory threw a wet sponge at the back of his head, and it quickly escalated into a small scuffle with a lot of locker room towel whipping and sponge hurdling. Logan and I climbed upstairs to go to bed.

  Stopping on the landing where her room was, I touched her arm.

  “I’m really glad you’re coming,” I said.

  “Of course I’m coming. I wasn’t going to let you go alone with those creeps.”

  “Amory wants to go, too.”

  “Yeah, what’s that about?” A knowing smile played on her lips.

  I shook my head. “He brought it up earlier before they got here, but I said with his injury . . .”

  “Oh, there’s no stopping Amory once he’s made his mind up about something,” she said. “He must really like you.”

  My stomach was in knots. I knew I had to say what was worrying me.

  “Listen. I don’t want to pull you and the others into this any more than I already have. Once I find Greyson, we’re going to be on the run. It’s not like we can come back here.”

  “None of us can,” said Logan. “It’s going to be overrun by the PMC in a matter of weeks.”

  I nodded.

  “This was never meant to be a permanent home or a permanent family for any of us,” she said. “It’s a halfway house between prison and freedom.”

  Logan gestured to her room. “I keep all my clothes in a duffle bag. We all have our real families, even if they’re gone.”

  “Greyson’s my family,” I said. “He’s all that’s left of my old life.”

  Logan hesitated. When she next spoke, her words were slower and more deliberate. “I just think you should prepare yourself . . . for the reality that you might not see Greyson again.”

  I sucked in too much air, and my chest tightened.

  “I can’t think about that.”

  “I know,” she murmured. “I just want you to be ready. And I want to be there in case the worst should happen . . . or not happen!” She brightened. “I’d love to meet the guy who’s been your best friend for all these years before I came along.”

  Before she could say anything else, I grabbed her around the neck and hugged her.

  That was the best thing about Logan: she could make even the most dismal situations seem better. I said goodnight and trudged up the stairs to my room.

  Falling back on my bed, I imagined what it would be like out east. Terrifying, I was sure. I pictured the destroyed city and thousands of carriers and illegals locked up in steel skyscrapers.

  I imagined Greyson locked in some dank, dark cell, staring out at the postage stamp of sunlight streaming in from overhead. Was he thinking about me? Was he even Greyson anymore?

  I shuddered, imagining him infected and transforming into a monster before my eyes. Would I even recognize him as a carrier? I didn’t think I could bear it. Long before the virus was a serious reality for us — before my mother was infected — we made a pact that if one of us caught the virus, the healthy one would shoot the other before he became a fully fledged monster. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t afford to thin
k like this. I wouldn’t give up on him. He would never give up on me.

  Someone knocked at my door, and I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

  “Come in.”

  The door swung open, and Amory stood in the doorway, looking serious. His brow was knitted in a frown, and he was hunched over a little, the way he had been since recovering from his wound. I knew the scar was healing, and it was probably painful to move.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He shifted nervously and then crossed to my bed in two strides, slamming the door shut.

  I pulled my legs up to my chest so he could sit down. My heart thudded against my ribs, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

  “I know what you’re going to say, and you can’t come with me.”

  He shook his head, looking angry. “That’s not what I came to talk to you about, and it doesn’t matter. It’s decided. I’m coming.”

  “Your wound —”

  He looked serious. “Don’t say a word. I don’t want anyone to know about that.”

  “Why?”

  “They’ll see it as a weakness. These guys aren’t your friends, Haven. They want warriors. Why do you think they were so quick to let us all come? They want to add to their numbers. If they know I’m injured, I’ll be the first person they get rid of.”

  I shook my head. “What are you saying?”

  “That’s what I came to talk to you about.” He shifted closer to me, lowering his voice. “Keep your guard up around these people. They’re extremists, which means they’re wildcards. Totally unpredictable. They’ll do whatever it takes, as long as it brings them closer to their goal.”

  “Which is?” I asked, voice dripping with skepticism.

  “To take down the PMC.”

  I snorted. “How are they going to do that?”

  “I haven’t figured that out yet, but you’re an easy target.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re new to this whole lifestyle, and they know you’re ballsy for sticking around in the city so long before making a run for it. And by yourself, too.” He threw me an exasperated look. “They place a high value on bravery that borders on stupidity.”

  “Well, Logan did, too . . . and Roman.”

  He shook his head, eyes locked on mine.

  “Listen to me. They’re going to try to recruit you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not naïve, Amory. I’m not going to get sucked in. And it’s kind of insulting that you think I can’t handle myself.”

  He grinned, picking up Greyson’s knife from my bedside table. “Trust me, I know you can handle yourself.” He set it back down.

  “Then why —”

  “Because you’re new to this.”

  “If you’re going to come, I can’t stop you. But I’ll be fine, and I don’t need to be protected.”

  “Haven!” He grasped my wrists tightly, shutting his eyes in frustration. “I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you!”

  I stared, not knowing what to say.

  “Okay,” I said finally, trying to keep my voice neutral. “Come.”

  He loosened his grip on me and opened his eyes, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.

  “You know, I still can’t figure out why I lobbied so hard to save you that first day you showed up.”

  I looked at his face. Amory was smiling slightly, playing with the hair tie around my wrist.

  “I thought you were going to kill me . . . or the others would,” I said in a whisper.

  “I wasn’t going to let them.”

  “Oh yeah?” I smirked. “What happened to ‘we have to vote on it’?”

  “I was just trying to buy some time, honestly. I didn’t know what I was going to do with you, but I knew I couldn’t let them kill you.”

  “Why, though?”

  He shook his head slightly. “I don’t know. I just . . . I had this feeling about you. Like you were important.”

  We sat like that for a moment, frozen. Then, Amory seemed to come to his senses and dropped his hand.

  “I’ll let you go to sleep.”

  He squeezed my arm, and I felt the warmth rise in my chest. I sat back against my pillows, savoring the feeling that was spreading throughout my body like hot maple syrup. For once, I allowed it to fill me up without guilt or remorse. This might be the last time I could feel truly, unapologetically happy for a while.

  Things would be different once we left. We would be on a mission, and I wouldn’t let my feelings get in the way of saving Greyson. I’d only known Amory for two weeks. As close as I felt to him, I didn’t really know him that well at all. He was so closed off about his life before the farm. I had known Greyson my whole life, and I owed it to him to do whatever I could to save him.

  I stirred sometime later, and I realized I had fallen asleep on top of the covers. The lamp on my bedside table had gone out, but I knew it couldn’t be that late. My throat felt scratchy in the cold, dry air, and I got out of bed to get a glass of water.

  The upstairs hallway was completely dark, and every door was closed except for Logan’s. I grinned, thinking she might have sneaked into Max’s room to sleep since it was one of our last nights there.

  I tiptoed down the stairs, trailing my fingers along the wall and the banister to feel my way to the kitchen. My hands found the counter and then the sink. I was reaching into the cabinet for a glass when I heard muffled voices coming from the back of the house.

  I recognized one of the voices as Logan’s, but she wasn’t talking to Max. The other voice belonged to a woman, and they were having a fight.

  I crept toward the back door to the porch and felt a rush of cold air. The screen door was open, and the voices were coming from the short wooded path that ran between the farmhouse and the guesthouse. I strained my ears to listen.

  “How can you even say that?” said Logan, her voice low and scathing. “You are in the same exact situation.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  It was Mariah.

  “Are you telling me that all your little rebel friends wouldn’t kill you if they knew?” Logan asked.

  Why was she talking to Mariah? Clearly they knew each other, which would explain Logan’s bizarre moment of panic at dinner.

  “I think you underestimate me.” Mariah’s voice was calm — lethal.

  “What would Rulon say?”

  Mariah laughed — a cold, empty laugh that made me feel sick. “Rulon will say and do whatever I want him to. And the others will fall in line. Can you say the same for all your little friends? What would they do if they knew their favorite warrior princess was a traitor?”

  My stomach contracted. This couldn’t be. This was Logan.

  “They would understand,” Logan breathed. “I did what I had to do.”

  “But how will they ever trust you again?”

  There was a small scuffle. I squinted out into the darkness, straining to see. There was very little noise, but a second later, Logan had Mariah pinned up against a tree with a knife at her throat. That was a move she hadn’t taught me.

  Logan looked more intense than I’d ever seen her. Her usually bouncy blond waves were pulled back in a tight ponytail, and she looked focused and unemotional.

  Was the Logan I knew all an act? The girl who yelled and cried and smiled and rolled her hair with Coke cans?

  “Don’t — test me,” she hissed, pushing her forearm into Mariah’s throat. “And don’t forget I’ve always been faster than you.”

  Mariah didn’t move and didn’t speak.

  Logan took a long, drawn-out breath. “If this gets out, I’ll kill you myself.”

  She released Mariah, who looked furious but unsurprised.

  I backed slowly away from the door and out of the kitchen and bolted up the stairs in the dark two at a time. I snapped my door shut as quietly as I could and threw myself down on my bed, heart pounding in my ears.

  I didn’t know what to do or what to think. I knew
I should tell someone about what I had witnessed, but that felt like the deepest betrayal. No matter what Logan had done, I didn’t think she would do anything to put us in jeopardy. Mariah had been there for five seconds, and I already distrusted her. But what had she meant when she said Logan was a traitor? Logan would never betray us to the PMC, but what had she done that was so terrible she would kill to hide it?

  I decided it didn’t matter. Logan was my friend — the best friend I had on the run. For now, I would keep her secret.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I woke the next morning to the sound of wailing coming from the kitchen. I took the stairs two at a time and found Ida bawling at the table. Max stood over her, spatula in hand, looking utterly terrified.

  “I guess this is how it is when you have children,” Ida shrieked. “Day by day everything’s normal, and then one day they have to leave.”

  “I’m-I’m sorry,” said Max, stumbling over his words. “But we can’t exactly stay here . . .”

  A fresh wave of sobs overtook her. “I know . . . I know. I feel terrible about that.”

  Amory stood in the corner, arms crossed, looking as uneasy as I’d ever seen him.

  “No, no, no. I’m just . . . being silly.” She hiccupped. “Please, don’t mind me. Of course you have to go!”

  Max shot me a pleading look, utterly bewildered.

  Seeing me standing in the doorway, Ida ushered me in with a sweeping gesture of the hand that wasn’t clutching the raggedy handkerchief she had blown her nose on. “Please, please, come in. Honestly, don’t pay any attention to me. I’ll just miss you all. So . . . so much.” And she was crying again.

  Amory appeared at my elbow. “She’s been like this all morning,” he whispered. “We don’t know what to do.”

  I smiled. “She’ll be all right, I think. She’s just sad.”

  Max materialized on my other side, pulling me toward the stove. “Help us!” he hissed.

  “How is she going to keep the farm running without everyone here?” I asked.

  Max shrugged. “She did it before we lived here. I think she has some old farmer buddies who came down here and helped out.”

  “We should get everything in order for her before we leave,” said Amory.