Live in Infamy

by Caroline Tung Richmond

  His mother started to shake, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Mr. Cabot elbowed Ren aside and began administering CPR, pumping his wife’s chest and breathing air into her lungs, but she made no sound. She only kept bleeding until her skin emptied of color.

  “Mom,” Ren said again. He squeezed her hand in his own, hoping to tether her to this life.

  It didn’t work.

  His mother’s chest stopped moving.

  She was gone. This time for good.

  Ren slumped forward, his forehead landing on his father’s shoulder while his fingers gripped his mother’s limp ones. Mr. Cabot wrapped an arm around his son and pulled him into his chest. Their tears fell fast and freely.

  Their family had been severed yet again. The two of them were alone.

  Ren clenched his father’s shirt and wept.

  An hour later, the boat slowed its speed and edged back toward the land. Ren watched vacantly as they approached the coast, seeing nothing but wilderness. A sandy shore curved in the distance and sloped steeply upward into a brush-covered hill. Ren didn’t see a road, not that he cared. His whole body had gone numb, both from the cold and from losing his mother again. But he preferred the numbness to the pain. He knew the grief would come — it would crash into him like a tsunami and threaten to drown him. Just like the last time.

  The boat pulled up to the pebbled coast. The passengers jumped out and sloshed through the knee-deep, frigid waters until they dragged their bodies onto land. For safety reasons, the group couldn’t dock at the safe house in case they had been tailed, and so the captain would steer the vessel back out to sea while the rest of them traveled overland. One of the rebels had explained all of the details to Mr. Cabot and Ren, but Ren had only processed small fragments of it. All he knew was that there were miles to cross until they were safe and until they could find out what happenened to the rest of the prisoners and rebels. Every escape boat had splintered in different directions, heading toward safe houses spread up and down the coast and inland.

  Ren stared at the hills along the coast that he would soon have to ascend. It wouldn’t be an easy trek, but the Resistance members and the prisoners with him — about a dozen in all — didn’t complain.

  Shivering, Ren followed his father off the boat. His dad was limping badly from a bullet that had bitten off a piece of his calf, but he placed a firm hand on Ren’s shoulder to draw him closer.

  “You can lean on me,” his father said. Softly, he added, “Don’t look back.”

  But Ren didn’t listen. After they climbed over the first hill, he glanced out to sea. Without any moonlight, Ren couldn’t tell where the waters stopped and the sky began. He couldn’t see much of anything, but that didn’t stop his heart from cracking open all over again. His mother’s body was out there somewhere, lifeless and alone. While they were still aboard the boat, his dad had told him that they wouldn’t have time to bury her, so they slid her body into the ocean thirty minutes before landfall, whispering their last farewells as she disappeared into the deep.

  A part of Ren had wanted to go with her. Instead, he had leaned on his father’s shoulder and tried not to think about his mom’s last moments.

  The group moved silently up the next hill, but Ren and his father struggled with the incline. His dad’s leg was bleeding freely, and Ren was too weak to get his father over the rise. Eventually, two Resistance members flanked Mr. Cabot, and they pulled him up together. Ren tried to follow them, but he lost his footing and almost slid halfway down the hilltop — until a small breath of wind caught his weight and held him aloft as he regained his balance. Soon, Zara joined him, panting hard herself, and together they made it the rest of the way.

  “Thank you,” Ren managed to say.

  Zara waved him off while she bent over to rest. She was dressed like Ren in a prisoner’s jumpsuit and bare feet, but that was where their similarities ended. She stood two heads shorter than him and probably topped off at half his weight, but she had more power in her pinky toe than Ren would ever possess. She was cradling in one hand the small locked box that she had carried from Alcatraz, which puzzled Ren.

  “I should be the one thanking you,” said Zara, coughing. Her hands were trembling, too, perhaps aftereffects of the Empire’s chemicals. “You got me out of Alcatraz before the roof caved in. You didn’t even know me.” She studied him. “What’s your name?”

  “Ren Cabot.”

  Something dawned in her eyes. “Cabot. I think I heard one of the nurses talking about you. They said you were the Viper.”

  Ren didn’t know what to do but nod. A few weeks ago, his life was completely different. He had worked in the shop by day and wrote his essays by moonlight. But here he was, standing somewhere along the Pacific coast and feeling like a lifetime had passed in a matter of days. The Viper felt like someone from his past. And could the Viper exist without his printing press, especially now that his identity had been revealed? Did he want it to?

  Zara looked up to locate the others, who were taking a short rest. She spoke to Ren hesitantly. “I’m sorry about your mom.”

  Again, Ren nodded, and again he said nothing. Tears brimmed in his eyes, even though he had been sure that he had been wrung dry of them.

  Zara avoided looking at him. “I lost my mom, too. The Nazis killed her.” She seemed to struggle with what she wanted to say, but she forced it out. “I know you don’t know me, but I hope you keep fighting. We can’t let another generation of Americans go through what we’ve been through, you know?” She chewed her lip hard. “This is coming out all wrong …”

  “I get what you’re saying,” Ren said. Truth be told, he appreciated her honesty, and he was glad that she didn’t try to pat him on the back or tell him everything would be okay. He knew what it felt like to lose his mom once — he just didn’t know how to weather it twice.

  “If there’s anything you need — from me or the Alliance — let me know. We’re fighting the same enemy, after all.” She watched the others preparing to move out again. “We better go, but I should give you this first.” She thrust the box at Ren.

  Ren stared at the unexpected gift. “What is this?”

  In reply, Zara opened the flaps of the box and slid out a piece of foam that hugged a glass vial of liquid. “When the Resistance attacked Alcatraz, the scientists started evacuating and I saw one of them clearing the shelves inside a locked cabinet. He was holding the boxes like they were newborns when he got shot in the back. Most of the vials had been smashed open, but I found this one intact. I figured if it was important to the Empire, then it might be important to the Resistance, too.”

  Ren couldn’t believe it. This must have been a vial of V2. He delicately took the box from Zara, slid the vial back inside, and closed the flaps. To keep it safe, he tucked it inside the collar of his jumpsuit, letting it nestle between his chest and the fabric. He didn’t know what the Resistance would do with the V2, but he knew what this vial represented, especially if the others had been destroyed.

  With the group on the move, Ren and Zara soldiered up another hill and trudged forward step by step. Ren wasn’t sure how far or how long they walked, but by the time they came upon a fish-processing plant, nestled among trees in a quiet inlet, he was ready to collapse.

  The plant was shaped like an enormous old brick, square and sturdy and halfway to crumbling. The place must have been abandoned years ago, but then Ren caught the unmistakable whiff of recently caught fish, which meant the plant was still in use. They went in through a side entrance, and Zara had to help Ren over the steps because his knees threatened to give out, which was a little humiliating for him. Zara had spent much longer in the Empire’s clutches than he had, but she insisted.

  Once inside, they hobbled together across the plant’s main floor, edging past the long metal tables where workers must have broken down each fish. The entire factory floor lay quiet since it was the middle of the night, leaving no witnesses. Ren stumbled up a set of wobbling steps with
the rest of the group and onto the second floor of the factory.

  A carpeted hallway greeted Ren’s bleeding feet, and he saw a long line of doors flanking him on both sides. Ren snuck glances into them as he shuffled by — bunkrooms and lockers and an office space — and he walked into a large storage room in the back that had been cleared out and converted into a sick bay. Makeshift medical stations had been erected around the room — a cot here, a chair there, and each one assigned a nurse or medic. Ren tried to make his way toward his dad, whose leg was getting looked over, but both he and Zara were pulled toward their own exam chairs.

  Ren bristled. “I’m fine,” he said to a determined-looking nurse who stood toe to toe with him. “I have to see if my dad is okay.”

  But the nurse wouldn’t let Ren leave. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she made him sit at the nearest station and opened her medical kit. Before Ren could sneak off, he heard someone walk up behind him.

  “You ought to listen to Nurse Pine. She knows what she’s doing,” said a familiar voice.

  Ren looked up and stammered, “Tessa?” He almost didn’t recognize her. Her hair had been freed from its bun, her face had been scrubbed of makeup, and her glasses were gone. Gone, too, was her usual uniform of a blouse and skirt, replaced with a fitted gray T-shirt and camouflage pants. He couldn’t find many traces of Fräulein Plank, but even if he had, it wouldn’t have mattered. He was simply relieved to see her. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

  “I hope that isn’t a complaint,” she said with a little smile as she scooted a stool next to Ren.

  “Not at all. I’m just glad —” Emotion thickened in his throat. After everything he had gone through these last few days, it was overwhelming to see a friend. “I’m glad you made it out okay.”

  “I can say the same about you.” Her smile widened, only to break when she took in the bruises on his cheeks and the dried blood covering his jumpsuit. The nurse started to cut open Ren’s clothing and he told Tessa to look away.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Tessa said frankly, sounding a lot like the Fräulein. But her expression grew more grim as Ren’s jumpsuit opened to reveal bloodied gashes and torn-apart stitches. As the nurse removed more fabric, Ren felt the box of V2 shift and he caught it before it fell, cradling it against his chest.

  Tessa looked confused. “What’s in the box?”

  “V2,” whispered Ren. He nodded toward Zara’s exam station. “She found it.”

  Tessa looked over her shoulder and her jaw went slack. “Is that …?”

  “Zara St. James. We escaped from Alcatraz together.”

  “You’ll have to introduce me later,” Tessa said, unable to stop sneaking glances at Zara, the symbol of the Second American Revolutionary War and one of the most wanted criminals. “But there’s a lot we should talk about first.”

  Ren leaned back, flinching as the nurse applied a local anesthetic and began cleaning his injuries. He didn’t like feeling so vulnerable in front of Tessa, but her presence did take his mind off the nurse’s poking and prodding.

  “I want to hear everything,” said Ren. “What happened after I left you? Have you heard from Marty or Midori? What about Aiko and the crown prince — did they escape?”

  Tessa told him to slow down and tried to tackle each point one by one. “We’re still getting updates about the attack because everyone scattered to different safe houses around San Francisco. I’d say overall that we accomplished what we set out to do. We infiltrated the prison — thanks to you — and freed the prisoners and Anomalies. We won’t have a final tally of survivors until tomorrow or the next day, but getting our hands on V2 is a very big deal.” She eyed the box again. “Marty will be ecstatic. We got a radio message from her about twenty minutes ago. She has been routed to another safe house down the coast, but she’s alive.”

  Ren let the relief wash over him. He knew Marty wasn’t in the clear yet — none of them were — but he needed to hear some good news after losing so much.

  She went on, and Ren noticed that she sounded different — less clipped, more casual. Less Plank, more Tessa. It was like speaking to a new person. “Midori did make it out” — Ren heard this and sighed in relief again — “but the crown prince’s helicopter crashed during its escape.”

  Ren choked. “Is he dead?”

  “Intel is sparse, but I’m assuming so. Apparently, one of our grenade launchers clipped the propellers of his helicopter on its way to the city. The whole thing went down in the bay, and you know how cold those waters are.”

  Ren went speechless. With the crown prince and his male heir both dead, the line of succession would be thrown into chaos. Crown Prince Katsura was the only living son of the emperor, and the emperor himself was already old and frail. Which left Aiko.

  “What about Aiko? Was she on board?” Ren asked. He assumed that the Empire had retrieved her during the prisoner exchange.

  A smile curved on Tessa’s mouth. “No. The Resistance managed to keep her from the Empire. She’s on her way to a safe house north of here.” But her smile was quick to dim. “From the radio messages I’ve heard, we lost a lot of good men and women getting her back out to sea, but they did it. We’ll probably have to move her from safe house to safe house every week to stay ahead of the Empire. They’re going to do whatever they can to get their hands on her.”

  For good reason, too, thought Ren. Not only was Aiko the potential heir to the Chrysanthemum Throne, she was a key figure in the treaty between the Empire and the Nazis. Without Aiko, the Nazis might withhold sending more vials of V2.

  The Resistance’s attack had been a success in that light — they now had V2 and Aiko. This brought Ren a little comfort after what he had gone through, but it was a comfort laced with guilt. Ren was responsible for kidnapping Aiko and letting the Resistance use her like a chess piece just as her family had done. But when Ren thought about this more, weren’t all of them pawns under the Empire’s regime and struggling to get off the game board?

  A beat passed. “I’ve been meaning to ask … and you don’t have to answer but … did you find your mom?” said Tessa.

  Ren’s face darkened. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to share that yet. He could try, but he wouldn’t be able to stop the tears and Ren had had enough of that. Though he felt he owed Tessa an answer. “I did find her, but … she didn’t make it.”

  “Oh.” Her gaze slinked toward the floor. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I,” Ren whispered. Someday he would tell Tessa the whole story, but not tonight. Not now.

  Ren wanted to shift their conversation back to the mission and what would happen next, but Mr. Cabot hobbled toward them on a crutch. At the sight of him, Tessa got up and placed a hand on Ren’s shoulder.

  “We’ll talk soon,” she said.

  “You should talk to my dad. He knew your parents.”

  A flash of pain overtook her features, and her hand slid down to her side. “There’ll be time for that later.”

  Within seconds, Tessa made her exit, and Mr. Cabot did a double take as they crossed paths. He stared at Ren, confused. “I could’ve sworn that was —”

  “Tessa Quirk. She was one of Marty’s spies inside the Fortress,” Ren explained. He wasn’t sure if Marty had ever disclosed Beetle’s real identity to his father, but there would be time later to delve into all of that. “You shouldn’t be walking around, Dad. You should be resting.”

  His father plunked himself onto the stool that Tessa had vacated, groaning as he stretched out his injured leg. “I could say the same to you.”

  “You were shot a couple of hours ago.”

  “And you were imprisoned in Alcatraz for days,” his father countered. He touched Ren’s cheek and looked at his son with so much concern that Ren felt himself blush. “It kills me to think what they did to you.”

  “Please don’t go down that road,” Ren said quickly. He didn’t want his father giving himself nightmares over what Ren had gone throu
gh. Major Endo would haunt Ren for the rest of his life, but he didn’t want his dad to share that burden.

  “How can I not think about it? You’re my son. I haven’t been able to sleep since you ran off to the Fortress. Marty kept telling me that you’d be fine, but then I heard you got arrested and then …” Tears pooled in his tired gray eyes. “Then we got word that you had outted yourself as the Viper. I couldn’t believe it at first. I’m not even sure if I can believe it now.”

  “I didn’t know how to tell you. I knew you’d be mad,” whispered Ren. Even now, he could never regret writing his essays and publishing them, but he hated the hurt on his father’s face. “But I wanted to carry on what Mom was doing.” Ren waited for his dad to begin lecturing him, and he wouldn’t let it bother him because he was just thankful that his father was alive. Only the lecture didn’t come.

  “I should have suspected something,” his father said at last. “Because you write like her.”

  Ren looked up with a knot in his throat. “Really?”

  “She was a little more direct and punchy, but yes, really.”

  The knot in Ren’s throat doubled in size. “I didn’t know you read my essays.”

  “I didn’t at first, but after a while I wanted to see what all the customers were whispering about. So I got my hands on a few copies and burned them after I read them, which seems ridiculous, looking back, because you were the one who wrote them. You’re grounded, by the way. For life.” Mr. Cabot laughed a little and Ren couldn’t help but join him. It was a little burst of levity amid the heartache of the night.

  “All right, but I’m still going to write those essays,” Ren said finally.

  “It’s going to be dangerous,” his father warned grimly. “Especially now that you’re exposed.”

  But Ren couldn’t back down. “I can’t stop now. The Empire is going to come after me anyway. And …” The lightness they had shared a few seconds ago felt miles away already. “I don’t think Mom would want me to stop.”