by Tarah Benner
Annalisa shook her head. “I can’t just shut down San Judas. I have employees — federal contracts. Relocating the remaining inmates would be a breach of our agreement, and the company can’t afford —”
“What the company can’t afford,” Lark broke in, “is for the FDA and the Justice Department to learn that GreenSeed has been testing its products on inmates without their knowledge or consent.”
At those words, Annalisa’s mouth tightened into a hard, thin line. Lark could see a muscle working in her jaw, and she knew that they had scared her.
“You’re not going to go to the Justice Department,” said Annalisa. “You’re wanted by half a dozen government agencies. Not that anyone would believe you . . . It’s your word against the word of one of the largest corporations in America.”
Lark shrugged. “I know the Department of Homeland Security would be willing to talk. They really want to get their hands on your crops. I guess we could give it a try and see what they do believe.”
Annalisa went, if possible, even paler. Lark knew that she thought they were bluffing, but she didn’t want to test her theory.
“I think the Justice Department might believe me,” Lark continued. “Especially after I bring them this.” She held up the hard drive that Annalisa had been trying to smuggle out of the building. She didn’t know what was on it, but the fact that Annalisa had taken the time to remove it personally made her think it had to be something juicy.
“There’s nothing on that,” said Annalisa quickly. “Just confidential company files.”
“Really?” said Lark. “Well, I still have the thumb drive of company files I stole before I escaped. I have your crop prospectus, data on each of your test subjects . . .” She ran her palm along the back of the hard drive. “What does this thing hold? A petabyte of data?”
Lark watched Annalisa for a moment. As she sat there sweating in the ratty armchair, Lark could sense the barrage of thoughts that were pinging around in her head. She was doing a mental inventory of everything she had saved on that hard drive, and judging by the look on her face, those files didn’t make her look like a Girl Scout.
“I bet you save copies of all your messages, right? Recordings of video conferences, private chats . . .” Lark allowed herself a tiny grin. “Whatever it is, I’ll bet it’s all pretty incriminating.”
Annalisa’s hard countenance faltered.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” said Lark, starting to pace so that she could better collect her thoughts. “We’re going to take you back to GreenSeed headquarters, and you’re gonna call an emergency board meeting.”
Annalisa scoffed and rolled her eyes, but Lark could tell she was clinging to Lark’s every word.
“You are going to give your strong recommendation that the company shut down San Judas immediately and release the inmates under its control.”
“It’s not that simple,” said Annalisa. “It’s not up to me. The board has to vote, and —”
“Don’t be modest,” said Lark. “I’m sure you’ll be very persuasive. Tell the board that you think shutting down the prison is in the company’s best interest. If that doesn’t work, you can tell them about all the information you inadvertently leaked to a bunch of escaped felons. Then they can decide if they’d rather throw you to the wolves or follow your recommendation.” Lark paused for effect. “What’s it called when a company pins all the blame on one dirty executive? A fall guy? Fall girl?”
Annalisa’s expression darkened, and Lark knew she’d made her point.
“What do you say?” asked Soren after a moment. “Do we have a deal?”
Lark could feel the tension radiating around her as they drove back to Arroyo Verde. She was sitting in the front of the black sedan with Soren, and Annalisa was sandwiched between Axel and Simjay.
Annalisa’s hand shook as she reapplied her lipstick, and Lark wondered if she’d be able to convince the board that everything was normal. She still looked pretty rough from the kidnapping. Her stockings had runs in them, and her hair was a mess. But once she’d ditched the pantyhose and applied some powder to absorb the nervous sweat on her brow, she looked almost identical to the prim, cunning COO that Lark had met months before.
When they reached the administrative campus, Axel drove them straight into the parking garage and waited for Thompson to contact them on the police radio. She’d driven back in the police cruiser a few minutes before so that she could get into the security suite and make sure no one was surveilling the parking garage.
Once she gave them the all-clear, Lark and Soren hauled Annalisa out of the car and marched her up the stairwell. Lark’s heart was pounding in her throat as they walked down the deserted hallway toward the C-suite. She had a gun pointed at Annalisa’s back, but her making a run for it was the least of their concerns. If a member of the private security team happened to wander across their path, the ruse would be up and their plan would be ruined.
Fortunately, they reached Annalisa’s office without encountering a single guard. Soren locked the door behind them, and they both hovered over Annalisa as she typed out a message on her tablet that would go out to all the other board members via the company’s internal network. Lark read the message, clicked “send,” and then rifled through Annalisa’s contacts.
As she’d suspected, Annalisa had the attorney general’s direct emergency line, so Lark copied down the number and slipped it into her pocket.
“What are you doing?” asked Annalisa in a panicky voice.
“I just thought I should let the attorney general know what you’ve been up to,” said Lark. “He’s got a satellite phone, right?”
“What?” snapped Annalisa. “You can’t! I did everything you said!”
“And I won’t ever need to get in touch with him as long as you hold up your end of the bargain.”
Annalisa blanched, looking as if she’d just swallowed a lemon.
“If the board votes to shut down San Judas, this will all stay between us. If not . . .” Lark shrugged. “I guess we’ll all be on the run together.”
“You need to reconsider this,” said Annalisa, licking her dry lips. “What you’re about to do . . . Setting a bunch of criminals loose . . .”
“There are already plenty of criminals walking free,” said Lark. “Starting with you and your cronies.”
“Our crops save lives,” Annalisa growled.
“Yeah, they might have,” Soren snapped. “If you’d bothered to release them before millions of people starved.”
“Due to circumstances beyond our control —”
“Homeland Security would have gotten your crops to the people who needed them,” said Lark. “With or without the FDA.”
“They weren’t ready,” said Annalisa.
“That didn’t stop you from testing them on prisoners,” said Lark. “You could have told Homeland Security what the crops were before your scientists tampered with them, and they could have saved millions of people from starvation.”
“That was our research,” Annalisa cried. “Research costs money, and GreenSeed provided thousands of jobs. We contributed billions to the economy.”
“A lot of good that’s done,” said Lark.
Annalisa just stared at her, seething with anger, but then Lark glanced at the clock and realized that it was time for the emergency board meeting.
“Time to go,” she said, gripping Annalisa by the arm and yanking her out of her chair. “Just remember what’s at stake here.”
If looks could kill, Lark had the feeling she would have dropped dead on the spot. But Annalisa was out of options. There was nothing she could do.
With one last withering look, she turned on her heel and marched out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
30
Lark
To Lark’s amazement, Annalisa did exactly as she was told. That afternoon, she walked into the board room and gave the greatest performance of her career to a table full of shifty-looking men.
The board voted to close San Judas permanently after the first of the year. They would be releasing all but a handful of violent offenders in three waves — the first of which was scheduled to begin the very next week.
Although Lark had been preparing for this outcome ever since she and Soren had first hatched their plan, she still couldn’t believe that it was actually happening. Kira, Amara, Rita, and Soren’s friend Shep would all be freed. Lark just hoped that they would be willing to participate in the final phase of their plan.
The next week, Lark, Soren, Bernie, Simjay, and Axel reached the walls of the prison minutes before daybreak. They’d driven half the night to get there in time for the first wave of releases and found the circle drive blocked by five white buses.
The buses were waiting to transport the inmates to every corner of the country, but most of them would be returning to cities left in ruins. There was nothing Lark could do about that, but she could ask them to help her carry out her mission.
Thompson had gained access to the facility under the guise of an investigation, and she, Simjay, and Katrina had spent the night in a room full of file boxes, adding to the inmates’ personal effects.
They waited anxiously outside the intake building, watching the sun rise over the tall adobe wall. Lark was dressed in her old brown cargo pants and heavy canvas jacket, which gave her a shiver of déjà vu as familiar faces trickled out of the building.
At least two-thirds of the inmates being released that day were women, but Lark also saw several men emerge looking much less macho and intimidating than they had in prison. All of those men were strangers in a broken world. They had no money, no connections, no jobs, and no homes. Most of them weren’t even aware that the places they had called home were gone.
As they waited, Lark saw a face that seemed vaguely familiar. The man was probably a few years older than she was, but it was difficult to tell. He had a large frame, pale skin, and very short brown hair. He eyed the other inmates with a sullen expression, but Soren let out a noise somewhere between a choke and a gasp and staggered out of the car to meet him.
Soren crossed the sidewalk in a daze, looking as though he’d seen a ghost. A shadow of familiarity flickered across the stranger’s face, and Soren’s arms flew open. A huge smile spread across the man’s face, and when they embraced, Lark realized that it was Soren’s friend Shep.
A burst of warmth erupted in Lark’s chest. She knew Soren had always felt bad about leaving Shep behind. Shep had been scheduled for release months before, but there he was — in the flesh — just waiting to reclaim his freedom.
Lark got out of the car and waited anxiously on the sidewalk. Most of the women’s brows lifted in recognition, and a few of them even smiled at Lark as they passed. One woman walked right up to her and gave her a hug, and Lark felt her body freeze in shock.
Most of her former enemies had been relocated to other facilities, but she hadn’t known what to expect from the rest of the women. The last time they’d seen her, she’d killed Mercy Peters in a brutal public fashion. Apparently, Mercy had more enemies than Lark even knew.
Then she saw Kira emerge from the building, and Lark felt a flutter of pure joy in her heart. She almost hadn’t recognized Kira without her filthy kitchen smock, but there she was, headscarf and all, holding a cardboard box of her belongings.
“Kira?” Lark croaked, raising her hand to wave and taking a few steps forward.
Kira turned at the sound of her name, and for a moment, she just stared.
“Lark . . . What are you doing here?”
Maybe it was the fact that Kira was so plainly dumbfounded, or maybe it was how she was holding on to her box. It looked as though it were the only thing keeping her anchored to the earth, and Lark felt tears catch in her throat.
She closed the distance between them in three long strides and gently placed Kira’s box on the ground. She threw her arms around Kira’s neck, and Kira hugged her back.
“It’s so good to see you,” Lark murmured.
Kira nodded but pulled back at once, looking utterly bewildered. “Lark . . . Why are you here?”
“I’ll explain in a minute,” said Lark, glancing at the buses, which were quickly filling with inmates. “I just wanted to say . . . thank you . . . for everything you did.”
“You’re welcome,” said Kira, offering Lark a smile that was warmer than any Lark had gotten from her before. “Did you have something to do with this?” she asked, glaring around at the other inmates.
Lark shook her head. “It was bound to happen eventually. GreenSeed just needed a push.”
But Kira’s mouth quirked up at the corners, and she shook her head with a knowing look. “Lark Roland, nothing that happens around you is an accident. You are trouble with a capital T.”
Lark smiled. “Where are you headed?”
“Chicago.”
Lark sighed. She was so glad to hear that Kira’s home wasn’t on the coast or anywhere down south. “I hope you find your son.”
“I will,” said Kira without a trace of hesitation. “People who love each other always find their way back home.”
Lark smiled, nodding quickly to keep her tears at bay. She desperately hoped that Kira was right. She, more than anyone, deserved a happy ending.
Lark picked up Kira’s box and walked toward the bus, catching Bernie’s eye at the other end of the building. Bernie wasn’t dressed in her old prison uniform, but it didn’t matter. With her bright blond hair and lively attitude, there wasn’t much Bernie could do to make herself blend in. She was greeting their old prison family with enthusiasm, hugging Rita and joking around with Shay just like old times.
The loud rumble of voices ceased when Lark climbed aboard the bus, and she tried to focus on her breathing as she found a seat in a middle row with Kira.
Several dozen pairs of eyes snapped on to Lark, and she felt herself losing her nerve. She’d never exactly been popular in San Judas. She still hadn’t explained what she was doing there, and she only hoped that the other inmates would be receptive to her plan. They had every reason to hate GreenSeed as much as she did, but Lark didn’t know if they would share her motivation to help rebuild a world that was teetering on the edge of extinction.
Looking around, Lark was relieved not to see a single one of Mercy’s daughters. She’d spotted a few kitchen workers, her fellow planters, and a dozen or more women whom Mercy had abused and berated. If anyone was going to listen to her, it would be them.
Lark felt the familiar urge to flee as the bus doors shuttered closed and the driver pulled away from the building. By that point, Simjay, Axel, Soren, and Bernie should have each boarded a bus headed for another part of the country.
Bernie was headed north. Simjay was going west toward the coast. Soren was making a trip up through the southwest, and Axel was on his way to what was left of the southeast. Lark was headed to the heartland with Kira — a region she knew was critical to their mission.
As they pulled onto the highway, Lark stood shakily and turned toward the center aisle to face the crowd of former inmates.
“Hi,” Lark began, glancing up and down the aisle and trying to get a read on the women’s expressions. Some of them looked hostile; others were just confused.
“What is she doin’ here?” asked one burly Hispanic girl whose name Lark didn’t know.
Lark ignored her and took a deep breath. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Lark Roland. I escaped San Judas last year, but I came back because you all deserve to know the truth.”
A flurry of mutters rose up inside the bus, and Lark felt her nerves stretch even further. If this didn’t go well, she couldn’t exactly turn around and bail. For better or worse, she was stuck with these women until they reached Kansas City.
“You all know that San Judas was owned by GreenSeed International,” she began.
There was some general nodding and murmuring throughout the bus.
“GreenSeed only bought the prison s
o that they could use us as their test subjects.”
A few women seated nearby looked angry. Several turned to talk to their seat partners, and Lark saw Kira frown.
“Some of you might remember a few years ago when a lot of us got really sick. We got sick because GreenSeed’s crops made us sick. They weren’t ready for people to use, but they used them on us because they thought that we didn’t matter.”
Lark took a deep breath. The angry muttering had grown louder, but Lark sensed that the women were still listening.
“Some of you will be going back to homes that don’t exist anymore. Crops have been failing for years, and people have been starving. Lots have had to relocate, and many more have died.”
A tidal wave of rage and confusion rose up from the crowd. Several women yelled out in protest, and a few even stood up to confront Lark directly. They were pointing fingers at her and yelling, while others were arguing amongst themselves. Lark tried to talk over them, but their voices had grown too loud.
“Stop. Please . . . Let me explain,” Lark cried. But the angry uproar just continued to grow.
“Let me explain!” she repeated. Lark was beginning to panic in earnest. If she caused a riot on this bus, she would never get her message across.
But before Lark’s worry ran away with her, Kira got to her feet, put her fingers to her lips, and whistled so loudly that it hurt Lark’s ears.
“Quiet!” Kira yelled.
The shouting and bickering stopped, and Kira silenced a few lingering whispers with a scowl.
“That’s why the mail stopped,” Lark explained. “That’s why there were delays with the supply drops. Most other prisons had to shut down, but GreenSeed kept San Judas going because they needed us. All this time they were using us as test subjects, and they stood to make a lot of money. They had crops that could survive the drought — crops that could have saved millions of lives.”
Lark took a quick breath, unwilling to stop for long and risk losing control of the crowd again. “They held on to those seeds because they didn’t have FDA approval. They were engineered with a gene that made people sick, but those crops were just GreenSeed’s versions of ancient plants that have survived in harsh conditions for thousands of years. GreenSeed wanted to make them pest-resistant. They would have been worth billions.”