Stealing Liberty

by Jennifer Froelich

  It isn’t our fight Sunday he wants to revisit, but the one we had last night, which started in the laundry room and was picked up later in the showers. Seems like anytime our conversation can be masked by other noises, he’s there, dogging me.

  “When the Bell goes missing, the authorities are going to investigate,” he said. “Have you thought of a plan? Something to make them search somewhere other than this school?”

  “We’re taking the tracking plate off the Bell and attaching it to another crate on the train. When they find it, they won’t have any idea where the Bell went missing. It’s more important to make sure we don’t get caught stealing it.”

  Adam’s frown just deepened. “Not good enough. They can check the weight of the car, figure out when it got lighter. You don’t think they’ll do the math and come searching for answers? We’re pretty isolated out here — not a lot of other stops along the track for hundreds of miles, I bet.”

  “All right!” I threw up my hands. “I’ll talk to Sam and Paisley to see if they can create a false electronic trail, maybe mess with the weight sensors. I’ve just been kind of busy making sure our heist plan is solid in the first place.”

  “A solid plan is a thorough one. One protecting everyone you’ve roped into this thing.”

  “Fine!” I left the laundry room and found Paisley, who thinks it shouldn’t be too hard to mess with the train’s sensors. But Adam wasn’t done. Next time, he wanted to know how we’re going to divert attention from the train yard the night of the heist.

  “Well, first, the false shipment car will dock away from Warehouse Four, drawing a lot of attention—”

  “And when they open the door and figure out there’s no shipment to unload? It only buys you minutes.”

  “But Sam’s messing with the car lock. Whenever a train arrives, we get a key code to unlock the right door. Sam can make the door fail, then open part way, then close again. While most of the guys are figuring it out, we’ll be down by the maintenance garage, unloading the Bell with a forklift.”

  “It’s not going to be enough.”

  “I agree. We need something else to happen — something to draw everyone’s attention away from us. Even the Sentribots.”

  Adam came unglued when I explained my idea.

  “Landmines? Are you out of your mind? You saw what can happen! Did you forget how Jeanine died? Or how Zak was killed for messing with that stuff?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Any idea is better! Your plan’s too risky. Those mines are unpredictable.”

  “I learned a lot about explosives while investigating with Zak. I understand how they work—”

  “But you’re not the one who’s going to be setting them off, are you? No, you want me or Oliver to do it while you get in and out with the Bell, the hero of the heist, no danger of being blown to bits.”

  “No one is going to get hurt.”

  “How can you say that? Where can we possibly put a landmine without the risk of hurting someone?”

  I didn’t know how to answer his questions. I still don’t. But I refuse to let it ruin our plans. One way or another, we are getting the Bell off that train.

  Oliver finds me sitting by myself at lunch. He looks like he hasn’t slept, like he’s losing weight despite all the food we’re getting.

  “You okay, man? You look terrible.”

  “I’m fine.” He rubs his eyes. A new shell sits next to him, mumbling hello before digging into his food.

  “You still building a new quarterback?” Oliver and I often talk tackle when others are around.

  “Yeah. He’s coming along — might be ready for the next draft.”

  After a few minutes we switch into our code language to set up another visit to the tunnels tonight. When the cafeteria gets full and loud, he leans in and whispers more questions about the vid of my mom.

  “Next time Kino calls you to her office, try to act normal,” he says. “But keep your eyes and ears open. Is she playing the same clip or a different one? Does she ask you weird questions about your mom, your past — anything?”

  I frown. “Actually, she started asking weird questions weeks ago.”

  “Questions like what?”

  I shrug. “All kinds of things. My parents’ friends, their jobs, our neighbors. How they traveled to work, where we shopped for food…”

  Oliver frowns. “I don’t want to give you false hope, but those are questions I’d ask if I was trying to find someone.”

  “Find someone?” A buzz of hope travels over my skin, raising goose bumps. “You think my mom might have escaped?”

  “I don’t know, man.”

  Sam joins us, then Paisley. We all eat in silence until Riley and Xoey carry their trays to the next table and sit down. Xoey stays focused on her food, but Riley glares at Oliver. Suddenly he can’t shovel it in fast enough. He gets up and grabs his tray.

  “I need to talk to you, O,” Riley says to his back. Xoey grabs her arm, shaking her head. Oliver keeps walking.

  I’m still thinking about my mom, but Oliver’s behavior is strange enough to pull me back to the present. “I wish I knew what was going on with him.”

  Paisley nods. “He seems sick. Like truly ill, you know? And did you see how he scooted away from me when I sat down? Like he’s afraid of something.”

  “Does he ever talk to you anymore?”

  Paisley shakes her head. “Not at all. Riley keeps trying to corner him, but he runs off. It’s worst of all for Xoey. He goes out of his way to avoid her. Way out of his way.”

  Sam frowns, his head swiveling between Paisley and me. “When I was little, I killed a butterfly by accident.”

  I put down my spoon and stare at him. “Okay… Thanks for sharing.”

  I know there’s an edge to my voice, but I don’t care. I have enough to worry about with my mom and the heist, and now Oliver. I’m not in the mood to listen to Sam describe all the classifications of butterflies, or name the creatures he’s killed, or whatever he’s about to launch into. I start to rise, but Paisley puts her hand on my arm, stopping me.

  “Reed, wait.” She turns back to Sam. “What about the butterfly?”

  He’s scowling at me. I sigh and sit back down. “Okay, sorry. I’m listening.”

  “Butterflies are pretty, but too delicate to hold,” he says. “I had to study them without touching. To keep my distance. To keep them safe.”

  For a minute I just stare at him, clueless. But Paisley is nodding, like he’s said something brilliant, so I think it over. Then it hits me.

  “So Riley, Paisley, and Xoey are butterflies? And you think Oliver is staying away from them to keep them safe from something?”

  Sam shrugs. “Maybe.”

  I focus on my tray. I can be such a jerk.

  “I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t get it. I’m not as smart as you, I guess.”

  He laughs. “Yeah. I know.”

  Paisley stares at Xoey’s back. “So what do you think Oliver is afraid of?”

  I shake my head. “I wish I knew.”

  After science, I report to the gym for mandatory dancing lessons. It’s not a space we’ve ever used since I got to the House. Now I know why. Constructed out of some type of late-twentieth century corrugated metal, it’s rusting and leaning to the east. A crew of students must have cleaned it out recently, because the floor has been swept, but the corners are filled with debris and old junk. I study the metal rafters from several angles, speculating on the chances of the roof caving in, which seems not just possible, but probable. I imagine us, twisting and spinning to awful music as it all comes crashing down. I can’t think of a more horrible way to die.

  Middlebrooks marches to the center of the floor and claps her hands. “All right, boys and girls. Line up!”

  We form two lines facing each other. I count twenty kids — most from her favorites list. Last week she paired us randomly, but by now everyone has chosen a date for the dance. Monica’s wish
to become Middlebrooks’ aide has come true and she stands to one side, handing Middlebrooks her Flexi Plexi like it’s something holy.

  Xoey stands across from me, looking about as comfortable as I feel. To my left are Riley and Adam. Paisley stands next to Riley, who is paired with a new shell named Mark. He calls her Marie and she doesn’t correct him, so I guess it’s not serious. Down the line to my right, Sam is standing across from a girl named Luz. A little farther, Oliver is paired with someone so new, I don’t even know her name. She’s beautiful, though. Almost too pretty to be real. I try and catch his eye, but he’s staring off into space, pale as a corpse and clenching his jaw. At the end of the line, Xu and Brock are ogling Oliver’s date, oblivious to their own partners. I turn back to Xoey, but not before seeing Xu make an obscene gesture. I shake my head in disgust.

  “Attention!”

  We all stand up straighter while Middlebrooks walks between our rows. The last time we marched, she spent so much time lecturing us about posture and etiquette, it seems more trouble than it’s worth to defy her. Let her have her little victories. I’m holding out for the big ones. Still, it’s hard to hide my impatience. She examines us all, tugging on Chen’s uniform, making Annette turn in a circle. Satisfaction or disapproval shows on her face.

  “Show me your teeth,” she says to Dex, who stands next to me. He complies while I clench my jaw. How can he stand the humiliation? I steel myself as she moves my way, but she barely glances at me before turning to Xoey.

  “Xoey Stone.” She glances up from her tablet. “I hear you are a singer?”

  Xoey’s face drains of color. She shakes her head.

  “Hmm,” says Middlebrooks. “Come to my office at five o’clock.”

  “I’m scheduled to work.”

  “I’ll clear it with Mr. Haak. Five o’clock. Sharp.”

  Middlebrooks turns away, swiping her finger across her Flexi Plexi. The next few students don’t seem to interest her, but when she reaches Sam, she stops and studies him.

  “Samuel Hayward.”

  Sam says nothing. Middlebrooks clears her throat and speaks again, raising her voice and drawing out her words. “Samuel? Do you know why you’re here?”

  “Yes. But I don’t want to dance,” Sam says.

  I laugh. I can’t help it. Seems like Sam is the only one brave enough to say what we’re all thinking. Middlebrooks shoots me a dark frown and turns back to Sam.

  “Sometimes we don’t get what we want, Samuel.” Her voice is still too loud and has taken on the sing-song quality people use with children. I feel my face getting hot. “You’re a handsome boy. And a special one, aren’t you? People from the Sand will want to see your lovely face. Do you understand?”

  Sam doesn’t say anything. I glance at Oliver. His hands are in fists, his face murderous. I think about how I misunderstood Sam yesterday and guilt blends with my anger, but it doesn’t take it away. How dare she talk to him like that? I open my mouth to say something, but then close it again. Maybe I’d make it worse.

  Middlebrooks isn’t finished. She turns in a circle and addresses us all. “I’ve noticed something troubling on Samuel — faded bruises. Scars. Whatever has happened in the past, whatever has been allowed — today it stops. I better not see one bruise, black eye or bloody lip, not one hair out of place on this boy’s head. Do you all understand?”

  She glares at Brock and Xu.

  “Now! Let’s get back to dancing!”

  I reach for Xoey’s hand. Catching Xu’s eye, I smile as he curls his lip at me. I hate Middlebrooks for treating Sam like a child, but I’m glad she wants to keep him safe. Still, I know Brock and Xu better than she does. They go out of their way to disobey rules — especially ones interfering with their sadistic games.

  It’s late when I get off my evening shift at the train yard and I’m filthy. No trains came through this evening, so we had to clear out a stack of rotting pallets from Warehouse Five.

  Jay took the lead. “Where you want them, Mr. Mariscal?”

  “Take ’em behind the old depot. Pile ’em up and burn ’em.” Mariscal handed Jay a torch. By the time we were done, our clothes and skin were covered in soot. As I walk toward the EM gate, I cough, feeling it in my throat and my lungs.

  Showering off all the soot takes a long time. By the time I’m clean, I feel raw and cranky. I’m still coughing too. I head to the common room and scan the crowd. Most of the students are gathered around the left pixel wall, watching some dance competition.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I mutter to no one.

  In the back corner, Paisley and Xoey are playing a virtual reality game with Mark. I spot Oliver across the room, heading out the other door with Riley hot on his tail. She looks as stormy as a tornado, which makes me happy for some reason. I would say I miss arguing with her, but I don’t. I just miss her. I’m tempted to follow them. I’d like to know what’s up with Oliver and what Riley knows about it, but I resist the temptation. I talk to Dex for a couple of minutes about the next tackle season, then head back outside.

  I didn’t see Sam in the common room, so I head toward the laundry room just in time to see him ahead of me on the stairs. I follow him inside.

  “Sam, do you have a minute?”

  “We have a problem,” he says.

  “What?”

  He taps his tablet several times, then flips it around to show me. “It’s the Liberty Bell. The delivery date has been delayed.”

  I blink. “Delayed? No…Why?” I stare at the screen, wishing it away. Just then, Adam comes through from the Hidden Library.

  “What’s going on?”

  “There’s a delay with the Bell shipment.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Rebels blew up the track a couple thousand miles east of here. They’re rerouting everything south.”

  My heart starts thumping. I’m usually happy to hear about the Resistance interrupting UDR operations, but not this time. “So the Bell is traveling on the southern route? Away from the school?”

  “It would have, but I reconfigured it.” Sam pulls his tablet back, tapping while he talks. “It will still pass the school, it’ll just take longer, curving around to the south, then back north again. It won’t get here for another week.”

  I’m disappointed by the delay, but not panicked. Not until I think it through.

  “Wait. What day will it get here now?”

  “That’s the problem. It should arrive the same day as the president.”

  Adam lifts his eyes, focusing on something over our shoulders. “That’s not our only problem.”

  Chapter 36

  Adam

  * * *

  Xu and Brock block the doorway. Their arms crossed, their feet set. Brock smirks. Xu just scowls.

  Sam shifts his feet, eyes wide. Reed steps up, ready to fight, but Sam doesn’t notice. His eyes dart to me then back to Brock, who jukes toward him. Sam yelps.

  I step forward, create a wall with Reed. “It’s okay, Sam. Remember what Middlebrooks said? He won’t touch you.”

  “Freak,” Brock mutters. “What are you mickpots doing down here anyway? This your romantic hideaway?”

  “Laundry.” Reed leans toward Brock, sniffs the air. “You should try it sometime.”

  Brock shoves past him, opens the only working dryer, pulls out a bed sheet. “These aren’t your clothes.”

  Reed leans against a washer. “You think sheets and towels clean themselves, Brock? No, but you make some new shell wash yours for you, huh? Or maybe you sleep in your own stink, night after night.”

  “You’re not fooling me,” Brock says. “I’ve been watching you. You and your stupid friends come in here all the time.”

  He starts opening and closing the other machines, kicking the broken ones. “Using a laundry room with only one working washer? It doesn’t add up.”

  Reed shrugs. “Maybe we just like it down here. It’s quiet. A nice place to talk.” He takes a deep, exaggerated
breath. “And the steam is good for my pores.”

  I watch them argue, wondering when to cut in. Or how. I don’t like standing here like Xu — a silent oaf, backing up the guy with a big ego and a bigger mouth. Brock is still kicking washing machines, but soon he’ll head toward the cabinets and start digging around. He’ll find the Hidden Library. I need to stop this now.

  “How’s your side project going, Brock?”

  Brock scowls at me, but stops kicking things. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I flash my teeth, hoping I seem as cocky as Reed. “Okay. But just so you know, the Red Cross truck is leaking fluid. Leaves a trail right through the west gate every time you leave. You might want to put in a service request.”

  Reed and Sam look confused. Brock is suddenly wary. I start walking toward him, taking my time. For once I use my size. Brock steps back toward the door.

  “You better not go spouting off about things you don’t understand,” Brock says. “Kino’s part of it, you know.”

  “Honestly?” I shake my head. “You are as dumb as you look, aren’t you? Of course Kino’s part of it. The Sentribots rotate away at the same time every month. No alarms, no fuss. Just the west gates swinging open when you leave and again when you return.”

  Brock’s eyes widen. People are always so surprised I’m watching.

  “So you and Kino got something going,” I continue. “I’m not asking, I’m not telling. Because that’s the key, right? Kino wouldn’t want Middlebrooks to know. Or President Amaron.”

  “If you breathe one word—”

  “Shut up and listen. I just said I’m not telling anyone. But this—” I swing my arm in a wide arc, taking in the laundry room, “—is nothing. You understand? Just a quiet place to meet friends. Kind of like your little nick-nack corner on the roof.”

  Brock opens his mouth and closes it again. Xu just stands there, confused as ever. My heart pounds, but I don’t think anyone notices. Finally, light dawns in Brock’s eyes. He marches toward me with fresh aggression.

  “Fine. But when Middlebrooks is gone, we’ll have another talk.”