by Stacey Nash
I fall back on the bed, settling into a comfy position. I can’t keep pushing Will away. Can’t keep fighting with him. He’ll get tired of caring, and caring is who Will is, what he does. He’s always cared for me, just like I’ve always cared for him. But I can’t keep him waiting and hoping that there might be more between us than the close friendship we’ve always shared. I’ll talk to him after his shift and get this sorted, even though it’s a good thing he’s coming tonight. My head pounds and eyes sting, but try as I might I can’t fall back to sleep with these constant thoughts.
Right, here’s what I need to ask Xane: 1: Cynnie. Hopefully she’ll come too, and if not I need to send her my love and thanks for helping us escape. 2: Manvyke’s routine. I need to know what’s different, what he’s up to, and what’s going on inside. 3: My mother. Xane may know what has happened to her; he may have heard or even seen her. 4: He sure was acting weird last night, but why? Something clearly had him nervous and I hope it wasn’t me. From his opinions in Collective History, he and Cynnie have to be like-minded. Neither of them believes in the controlling ideals of the founders’ vision. So whatever Xane was doing, I very much doubt it’s bad news for me.
By the time Lilly wakes, my list is no longer mental. Sitting on my bed, with Will’s note in my hand, I’ve scrawled everything on the back so I don’t forget a thing when we meet Xane.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Planning. I thought you’d never wake up.”
“What time is it?”
“Late.” I glance around the room that I already know is empty. Even her dog has gone. “Look, if you don’t want to—”
“I’m coming,” she says.
I smile. “Right then, let’s get organized.”
***
I glance at my watch then the empty door. Still no Will and it’s almost time for us to leave. He’s got to be working a double shift, or maybe he’s decided not to come after all. Our plan to take the truck again turns my stomach. Driving so close to the Collective’s community in such a noisy old rustbox is a bad move, but we can’t port without everyone knowing where we’re going, and no way would Sam or Beau allow us to traipse off, especially with Lilly. Beau’s too darn protective of his only daughter. And the three of us won’t fit on Will’s bike, so it’s either public transport or this. The truck’s a quicker getaway than a train, so that’s the only choice we’re left with.
The bangles on Lilly’s wrist clink together as she walks in circles until the door creaks open, revealing Will’s seriously set face. My chest expands to the tune of him entering the beanbag room and I offer him a smile before ducking my head to hide the relief and gratitude that must be shining in my eyes. I would have done this without him, I would have.
I look up, catching a genuine and lingering smile on his face. That’s my Will.
Everything’s right again.
He passes me a dagger, then two more go to Lilly, the same weapons we had last night. God knows when he returned all this stuff in what was probably a good move. I strap the weapon on, although hopefully I won’t need it, then I touch Xane’s light thingy in my pocket. I should have given it to Marcus, but it’s kind of cool, definitely useful, and I want to keep it ’cause it reminds me of Cynnie. And Jax.
We pull on protect-its and whack telcoms in our ears just to be safe. We didn’t talk about it, but I’m not stupid. As much as I trust Xane it can’t hurt to take any and every precaution.
We sneak out for the second night in a row without seeing another soul. Security sure is lax around this safe house, and even if Charlie doesn’t realize the hide-all isn’t protection enough, Beau should. What happened at the farm could happen again at any safe house. Better talk to someone about that later.
I don’t need Xane’s light, but I pull it out of my pocket anyway. The squeeze I give makes it light up.
“You took that?” Lilly asks as we walk along the side street toward the parked truck. “Are you going to give it back to your Xane?”
I guess now I have to. “Yes. You remembered his name.”
She grins, revealing a shadow of her old self. “Yeah, I did.”
We pile into the truck with me in the middle again, my arm pressed against Will’s and his hand on the gearshift between my legs. It shouldn’t feel uncomfortable, but for some reason his knuckles brushing against the inside of my knees feels weird. We’ve been closer a million times before, like when I ride on the back of his bike. Heat rushes to my face and I try to shuffle further back into my seat. That gives me a little space and he doesn’t seem to notice or, if he does, he ignores it.
Remembering how to get to the Collective community proves harder than finding our way to the council building. That’s in the center of the city—a place completely familiar to me from the years spent in the park growing up. But the community is out in the suburbs on the very fringe of society in a place I’d never been until a few months ago, so my memory of how to get there seems so much hazier. Thank God, Will drives away without asking which way to go.
I don’t pay attention, just rest my head back on the seat and close my eyes, trying not to think about lost memories and what it felt like to not even know my own name. Hopefully my mother isn’t feeling like that now. We’ve lost so many years together already, and to lose what little time we could have together would be beyond horrible.
“Wow,” Lilly says and my eyes spring open, “it doesn’t look any different. I thought security was amped up.”
That hour sure flew. My chest tightens at the sight of the imposing iron bars and small sentry hut between them. A few months ago, Nik caught us. Right there, at that gate. My mother also took a risk, right along with us, to help me and Jax break free. My fingers find the pendant at my neck—her pendant—and my thumb traces the petals of the blue flower. Her current predicament is my fault.
Warmth falls on my thigh and I glance down at Will’s steadying hand. “It’s not too late to turn back.”
I swallow the ball of nerves drying up my mouth. “It’s okay,” I croak. “I’m all right.” His thumb moves back and forth across my jeans as we continue driving.
The long strip of trees lining the Collective’s territory hides the giant fence from view. A fence that goes on for much longer than I remember. Finally, we reach the end where the road curves away and this is the spot we’ll have to walk from.
Will’s hand moves from my thigh to the steering wheel, which he now grips with both hands. He plants his foot on the gas and we speed toward the curb with no sign of stopping. “Hold on,” he warns just as we hit the curb and fly over it, coming down in the vacant lot. Whoa. My fingers dig into the seat to anchor me in place. I wouldn’t have thought the old truck had a jump in her, but I guess it’s used for bashing around the farm. So it must be made of sturdy stuff. I’m jolted in my seat as we bump over the unpaved land, hitting dips and hills that the truck takes easily.
Will tenses beside me—his arm and leg tight where they rest against mine—the closer we get to our destination. He clicks the headlights off and lowers the speed, eventually stopping about half a mile from the gap in the tree line near where Garrett’s old spy station hides.
Oh no, I didn’t think of that. I slide out of the pickup and head straight to Lilly, slinging my arm across her shoulder. She slips hers around my waist and we set off, hugging each other like a pair of middle school girls, hips bumping together as we walk. Having her close helps ease the fear coiling in the pit of my stomach. Hopefully I’m providing her some comfort against the memory of Garrett too. Will pushes ahead of us, his stun-mace swinging in his hand.
The closer we get the tighter my chest squeezes. If only Jax was here with us. It’s not right without him, kind of empty, our small group incomplete. He’d know just what to say, and how to deal with this. Xane wouldn’t hide a darn thing from Jax, not like he hid stuff from me last night.
There it is.
A gap in the tree line and Will’s already there, wait
ing. Lilly can probably feel my hand quiver against her shoulder, so I pull it off and run my fingers over the straps on my arm, the presence of my weapon reassuring. We reach Will, who glances toward the tree and his voice echoes in my mind. “You stay here while I check it out.”
For once, he’s right. If any of us are a target, it’s me. My stomach lurches like I’m going to vomit and a sideways glance at Lilly says she feels the same. Bent over, her hands rest on her knees.
“You all right?” I ask.
“I feel pretty sick.”
“Me, too. It must be the barrier. It wasn’t this bad before though.”
Several minutes pass before Will says through the telcom, “He’s here and it’s clear. We’re coming down.”
A grunt and thud sound as one of them lands on the ground and then the other. Xane first, I think; since the second thud was heavier. Good thing the moon’s bright again because I’m not about to use the artificial light. It might draw attention and we sure as heck don’t want that. As they walk toward us, it’s amazing how similar they are for boys who come from opposite sides of the fence. Their hair glows almost the same blond in the moonlight, normally more golden than white, but the darkness makes it stand out. Xane’s shorter than Will by about half a head, and a little less bulky, but they walk the same way—all swaggering confidence.
“Anamae.” Xane smiles, his straight teeth white in the darkness. “It’s good to see you.”
Will places himself to my left, between me and Xane.
The other boy’s smile falls. “Are you well . . . okay? We never heard what happened. You just weren’t there after the attack. We were worried.”
This greeting is so different to last night that a grin that tugs my whole face.
“That attack was partly a rescue mission. I don’t know how much Cynnie’s told you, but Jax—I mean, Josh—and I, we were kidnapped by Manvyke.”
“She filled me in pretty well.”
“It’s good to see you too, Xane.” I peer into the darkness, but there’s nothing to see, just the dark shadows of the trees. “You alone?”
“Yep.”
My heart sinks just a little and I heave a sigh.
“She doesn’t know I’m here,” he says, like he knows who I’m looking for. “I didn’t want to risk it, in case I get caught. She’ll give me an earful if she finds out though. She misses you.”
“Me too.”
The rustle of Lilly fidgeting snaps my attention back to our task. This isn’t a reunion, we have an agenda. Xane’s focus slides to Lilly and he smiles again like he’s making up for his lack of warmth last night.
“Hi.” Lilly waves just her fingertips. This is no time to be flirty, but oh my gosh, it’s my Lilly resurfacing.
“What’s that?” He nods toward her hands.
“Oh, nothing. It’s Will’s.” She tosses Will’s new improved barrier breaker toward its creator and he catches it out of the air in a moving that is all about showing off. I’m pretty darn proud of him too, for the invention, not the catch.
“It’s how we got in last night,” I say.
Will shoves it into his jeans. “It’s nothing.”
“Got in where?” Xane’s stare doesn’t leave Will’s bulging pocket.
“Nowhere,” Will says, but my voice cuts over his. “—through the barrier.”
“At the council hall?” Xane laughs. “No, it’s not. That barrier is deactivated.”
Unease creeps up my spine, the same feeling as last night. Surely that wasn’t a set up and this isn’t an ambush right now. I can’t believe that, not of Xane, but it sure would explain Cynnie’s absence. I shuffle a little closer to Will.
“They’ve abandoned the building to concentrate efforts on fortifying the Agoge and launching offensive attacks . . .” The rest of his sentence rambles off in a low mumble.
“Agoge?” Will asks.
“You know . . .” he waves behind him “. . . inside the walls. Our home.”
“Oh crap,” I say. “That’s why it felt deserted. It was, wasn’t it? The whole place was empty.”
Xane nods.
“Then what were you doing there?” Will’s voice is laced with underlying accusation.
“I was on a mission.” Xane glances toward the trees, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “A retrieval.”
“What sort of retrieval?” Will shuffles his weight, moves his hand to the mace at his hip, and the way he stands makes his arms look huge, his chest too. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was puffing it out. He says into my head. “I don’t trust him. He was probably retrieving you.”
Ignoring Will, I hold Xane’s stare. “Retrieving what?”
“I can’t tell you.” He glances away again, scratching his nose. “It will put too many people in danger.”
“See—”
“Give him a chance to finish, Will.”
“Anamae, you know me. I don’t believe in all the shit they sprout. I’m doing something good and . . .” He eyes Will sideways. “I’m not putting you in harm’s way, I promise.”
“I’m certain he’s telling the truth,” I say to Will. “Whatever he’s hiding, it’d be for good reasons. We need to trust him.”
Will relaxes his stance, just a little, his biceps remain flexed though.
Xane continues. “Things are the worst they’ve ever been. We’re launching this stupid full-scale offensive to intimidate the anti-Collective group and for what? Just to prove our superior strength.” He shakes his head. “What a stupid waste of lives.”
Lilly edges forward and Will’s hands have moved to his hips now. I’m not stupid. I know he never stands like that, it’s obviously so he can keep his hand close to his weapon without it being too obvious.
“It’s not working though, is it?” Xane continues. “We’re losing lives just like you are, and forged founders, even a sensor has gone missing.”
“There, that. That is why we came here,” I say to Will. “Really?” I ask Xane. “That’s partly what I wanted to talk to you about. What happened with the sensor?”
“There’s not much to tell.” He frowns. “She disappeared the night of the attacks. It’s hard to tell them apart, what with the shaved heads and robes, but I know this one. Something about her was different. She took notice of us, looked me in the eye, smiled, you know. That’s why I’ve noticed she’s not there anymore.”
The leaves rustle.
I flinch.
Lilly gasps.
Will and Xane both peer into the darkness.
Will draws his mace, again.
Holding in a breath, my heart pounds. It was only a tiny noise, but it sounded like movement. Is there someone else here? Did Xane betray us? One look at his stance—hand gripping a blade held out before him, just as spooked as the rest of us—and I think not.
An owl hoots right overhead and I jump.
“Just a bird.” Will exhales loudly.
The sudden relief from my highly-strung muscles makes my head spin and my held breath whoosh out.
“Does Xane know the sensor is your mom?” Lilly asks through the telcom.
“No.”
Xane takes a deep breath, pushes a curl out of his eyes, and lowers his voice to a whisper. “There was some talk, rumors at first, that the sensors were looking for her, but it’s quieted down now. Or it’s been hushed up.”
The worst possible thought takes hold in my mind and I can’t shake it: What if she’s dead? How much to tell Xane is the question. Should I mention her part in helping us escape or tell him who she is? Maybe keeping quiet is best.
Instead, I say, “That’s odd. Aren’t sensors practically sacred?”
He nods.
“I don’t trust Manvyke.” My glare slips to the direction of his house which I can’t see for the massive stone wall. “Do you think he might have anything to do with it?”
“That’s the other odd thing.” Xane glances into the dark again. Whatever he’s looking for makes me nervous too. His vo
ice comes out a tad shaky. “Like I said last night, he’s gone quiet. He’s always been the most outspoken of the patriarchs, never misses a council meeting or a chance to work his charm. He always manages to make them all see his way, but lately . . . my dad says he hasn’t been showing up.”
“So what’s he doing then?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you find out?” Will releases his mace and finally relaxes, his arms hanging by his sides. “You’re going to have to tell him if you want help, Mae. You said you trusted this guy.”
Xane cocks his head to the side. Probably trying to figure out why I care what Manvyke does or doesn’t do. Will’s right. I need to tell my Collective friend something. “Look,” I whisper, taking his cue to keep the volume down, “that sensor . . . Manvyke caught her helping us. Me and Josh. If something has happened because of me, I owe it to her to repay the favor. Will you help us?”
“Yes.” He says it so quickly and without hesitation that this is definitely the right choice.
“I think we need to figure out what Manvyke’s up to. It kind of seems like the obvious place to start.”
“Right,” he says, “give me a few days. How can I contact you?”
“We’re not coming back here, so don’t ask,” Will warns.
Will’s right, unease still creeps along my bones. We shouldn’t be this close to their territory, but we can’t bring Xane to us either. Despite my trust, exposing a safe house, even to a friend, is a bad idea.
Lilly rubs her hands along her arms to fight off the cold air. “Central Park. There’s a twenty-four hour diner on North Pine Street.”
“Perfect,” Xane says. “Three nights from now, midnight.”
Chapter Eleven
Jax
I’ve been here a few days now and taken time to learn the routine, watched Frank a couple of nights in a row, even proven I’m worth keeping around. That was on a call-out during the second day; not an attack like the ones we’ve had in the city, but a typical use-of-tech alarm. A kid activating a telcom who didn’t realize what it was. Agents arrived at the same time as us. I took care of them while Harris scooped up the kid, none the wiser, and returned him to his mother. Excuse me, ma’am, your boy was wandering around like a lost puppy. Crisis averted. You’re welcome.