by Zoe Cannon
After she spoke the final name, she ran through the total in her mind. One each for Sean and Jared. Nothing for Alia.
Four for Peter.
Bad luck. That was all it had taken. A few too many spies in the wrong places.
Lucas could arrange one or two more accidental deaths without looking too suspicious. Maybe three.
Not six.
Becca looked at Peter—at his too-straight back and the trembling of his hands as he tried to put on a brave face.
There was only one person who could fix this problem.
“You need to run,” Alia told Peter. “We’ll get you a new identity tonight. You’ll be on the road by morning.”
Becca started to shake her head. But Sean spoke first. “The lockdown,” he reminded Alia. “Internal hasn’t let anyone leave town since the beginning of the arrests.”
Peter quivered.
“There has to be a way,” Alia insisted. “We’ll stick him in an Enforcement uniform or something, and—”
“They’re not even letting Enforcers through,” Sean interrupted. “Not since they arrested the one from Jared’s network yesterday.”
Sean was right. Running wasn’t the solution. She had gone over it in her mind as she read off the last few names, searching for any possible way to make it work. But she had known from the start that there was only one way to deal with this.
Her mind rebelled at the thought. I told him he would make it through this.
But better to lose him than the entire resistance.
Meri had understood, that night in the park. She had known how to do what was necessary to keep the others safe.
Peter, though… Peter wasn’t Meri. Starry-eyed and idealistic, he had been the resistance’s heart in the early days—but not its cold-blooded logic. He understood compassion. He understood conviction. But he had never understood sacrifice.
He would never think of the solution on his own.
She knew what she had to say. But the words stuck in her throat.
Could she demand this sacrifice from him? From anyone?
Say it.
“I told you the resistance could survive this.” She let the others fade from her awareness, giving Peter her full attention. “And we still can.”
Peter shook his head. “Not now,” he whispered. “Not anymore. You know what will happen once they have me in 117. I won’t last five minutes.”
Becca didn’t waste energy trying to convince him he was wrong. They both knew better. “That’s why you need to make sure you’re not interrogated.”
“You heard them.” Peter twitched a hand toward Alia and Sean. “I can’t run.”
She was going to have to spell it out. She made her voice as gentle as possible, but nothing could soften the words. “By the time they come for you…” Say it. “By the time they come for you, you need to be dead.”
Alia and Sean both erupted at once.
“You can’t ask him to—”
“—meaningless sacrifice—”
“—can’t talk about saving lives and then—”
“Stop!”
Silence fell in the wake of Peter’s shout. Everyone’s head swiveled to the door at once. Becca’s heartbeat was the only sound in her ears as she watched, waiting.
Nobody came.
Nobody had heard.
They were safe.
Safe—at least until the interrogators five floors down questioned the wrong person.
Peter looked across the circle at Becca, eyes wide with terror. “Are you…” He swallowed. “Are you going to…”
Becca shook her head. “I won’t kill you,” she said. “And I won’t order you to die for us. All I can do is ask.” She lowered her voice. Softened it. Be what he needs. “Help us save the resistance, Peter. Please.”
“I can’t,” Peter whispered. His face crumpled. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
As Becca watched his silent sobs, she knew there would be no changing his mind.
“It’s okay.” Becca looked around at the others, speaking to them as much as to Peter. “We’ll find another way.”
But Sean said what Becca couldn’t allow herself to think. “There is no other way.”
“There is.” There has to be. “All we need to do is find it.” She looked over at Kara, waiting. This was Kara’s department—the ideas, the plans. This was why Kara had joined the resistance.
Kara only looked away.
“There is no other way,” Sean repeated. “So instead of wasting our last few days sitting around trying to find one, we need to make this time count. We need to do something they’ll remember.” He gave the room a grim smile. “What do you say we destroy 117 for good? They won’t be able to keep filling this place up if we level it to the ground.”
“Are you crazy?” Alia burst out. “What about the prisoners?”
Sean shrugged. “We sacrifice a few lives to send Internal a message. That sounds like a fair trade to me.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not here to make some kind of gesture,” said Alia. “I’m here to save lives, and we can do a lot of that in a few days if we plan it right. If we don’t have to worry about staying safe all the time.” She shot Becca a glare. “Here’s what we do—we hit every transport, every holding cell, every house on Enforcement’s arrest schedule, until Internal catches up with us.”
Sean made a noise of dismissal. “In a few years, no one will remember—”
“Who cares about a few years? Those people are in danger now!”
Becca stepped between them. “We’re not destroying 117,” she said. “And we’re not rescuing prisoners—not now. Right now our only priority is keeping the resistance alive.”
Alia whirled on Becca. “Where have you been for the past few minutes? You heard Peter. Four of those prisoners know his name. You still think doing nothing will keep us safe?”
Jared rose. He stalked to Alia with deliberate steps. “That’s enough.”
“I’m so tired of your pet Enforcer and your—” Alia shook her head, cutting herself off midsentence. “You know what? We’re wasting time here. I’m done. You guys want to sit around debating how to perform a miracle? Go ahead. I’ll be doing what I signed up to do.” She started for the door.
Sean followed. “And I’m going to use this time to make sure they can’t forget us.”
“Wait,” Becca called. But what did she have to offer them, besides more promises they wouldn’t believe?
Time seemed to slow down. Every sound became twice as loud. Their footsteps, walking away. The metallic creak of the doorknob.
And then Kara’s voice, subdued but clear. “This isn’t what you really want.”
Alia paused with her hand on the doorknob. “You think I want to spend my last few days hiding away, waiting for her to save me?” She jerked her free hand toward Becca.
“No,” said Kara. “You want the resistance. What you’re doing now is second best for both of you. A day or two to fight Internal on your own, and then execution? If that was all you wanted, you never would have joined up with Becca in the first place.”
“The resistance is dead.” Alia started to turn the doorknob again.
Becca almost responded, but thought better of it. They wouldn’t listen to her—they had already proved that. But maybe they would listen to Kara.
Kara stood up from her chair. She paced around the circle as she spoke. “I was in reeducation,” she said. “I was going to die in there—either that or end up as brainwashed as those spies. Becca Dalcourt got me out. And what about the liberation? Becca did that too. So maybe saving the resistance is impossible, but it’s not like she hasn’t done the impossible before.”
Alia didn’t let go of the doorknob. But she didn’t open the door, either.
“We’re not going to make any desperate last stands until we’re sure there’s no other option,” Kara said as she walked. “We’re going to figure this out, and then we’re going to fight, because it is not over yet.”
<
br /> Alia dropped her hand to her side.
“If you didn’t believe in Becca, you would have left a long time ago.” Pace, circle, turn. “We’ll rescue those prisoners. We’ll send a message. All you have to do is believe in her for a little while longer.”
“You really think she can pull this off?” asked Alia.
Quiet certainty filled Kara’s voice as she answered. “I know she can.”
Alia and Sean looked at Kara, and at each other. Each waiting for the other to answer. Each waiting to see how the other would react. No one else breathed as they watched the scene unfold.
Becca bit her lip to keep from speaking. Wait. Just wait. Let Kara handle this.
Alia spoke first. “I’m not going to wait around for them to kill me. If we don’t do anything soon, I’m gone.” She stalked back to her seat. With a sharp nod of agreement, Sean followed a second later.
“We will,” Kara promised as Becca let out her breath in relief. Across the room, some of the tension left Jared’s shoulders.
“So how do we make this work?” asked Alia. “Nothing’s changed. We still have days at most before someone gives up Peter’s name.”
Peter raised his head. His eyes, though red, no longer shone with tears. Instead they looked hollow. Dead.
“I’ll do it,” he said in a voice as dull as his eyes.
Becca didn’t have to ask him what he meant.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
His head bobbed like a puppet’s. “I’ll do it. I’ll do what you want.”
Becca bit back the protest on her lips. This is how the resistance survives. “Thank you,” she said instead. “We’re going to make it through this—and it will be because of you. I hope you know that.”
Peter gave another lifeless nod. He didn’t answer.
Sean clapped Peter’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “We’ll tell everyone about this someday,” he promised. “They’ll know what Internal did to you.”
“And what you did for us,” Jared murmured. “We won’t forget.”
“Is there anything you—” Becca began.
“Meeting’s over,” Peter interrupted. He held up his watch before letting his hand fall lifelessly back to his lap. “We should go.”
“We have a few minutes,” said Alia. “You don’t have to leave yet.”
“I don’t want to talk, okay?” Peter shoved his chair out behind him as he stood. “I need… I need to go.”
He hurried from the room before anyone could stop him.
* * *
“Peter?” Becca called softly as she stepped into the parking lot.
No answer. No movement. The lot was empty.
Too late. She had hurried out of the building as fast as she could, but she must have missed him anyway. And now she would never get a chance to…
To what? She didn’t know how to finish the thought. There was nothing she could do for him. Nothing she could say to make this any easier.
Maybe it was better this way. Maybe—
There. Across the lot. Peter’s car—and inside, a figure sitting hunched over the steering wheel. His shoulders shook. As Becca watched, he wiped his eyes, then sank his head into his hands. He made no move to drive away.
Leave him. Let him go. Micah’s voice echoed in her mind. Let go. But she couldn’t. Not like this. She started toward the car.
“Becca.”
Becca jumped. A second later, she recognized the voice; she turned to find Kara standing behind her, a grim expression on her face. “I need to talk to you.”
Peter’s forehead rested on the steering wheel now; he didn’t look any closer to leaving than he had a second ago. But that could change at any moment. “Can it wait?”
“No.”
Becca tore her gaze from Peter to focus on Kara. “Is this about what was bothering you in the meeting? You aren’t usually that quiet. Especially when there’s a problem to solve.”
Kara dropped her eyes as if ashamed. “Sorry about that. I won’t let it happen again. The news reports, the list, it was all so…” Her voice trailed off as she raised her eyes to Becca’s again. “I didn’t help you in there like I should have. And I’m sorry.”
“Without you, Alia and Sean would have walked away,” Becca reminded her.
“I can make up for it,” said Kara, as if Becca hadn’t spoken. “I have some ideas I want to talk to you about as soon as possible.” She glanced over at Peter. “But that can wait another day. This can’t.”
Becca followed Kara’s gaze. Peter still hadn’t moved. “Meet me at my apartment. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She turned away, toward Peter’s car.
Kara shifted to stand in front of her. “It’s about Peter.”
She has a plan. A way to save him. But that didn’t fit the lines of Kara’s mouth, the urgency in her voice. “What is it?”
“Not out here.”
Becca nodded. She led Kara across the lot to her car, keeping her gaze locked on Peter as she opened the door and squeezed inside. He didn’t move.
Kara waited until her own door closed with a soft thunk before she spoke again. “He’s not going to do it.”
Becca turned to Kara in confusion. “You heard him in there. You heard the way he sounded.” That hadn’t been the voice of someone who planned to survive. That had been the voice of someone who had lost everything.
Kara nodded. “I heard him. And that’s how I know he’s not going to do it.”
Becca didn’t have time for riddles. “Explain.”
“In the reeducation center, I… there were a couple of times when…” Kara took a breath as she blinked away a private memory. “I know what it looks like when someone decides to die for what they believe in, or for the people they care about. They get this… this light in their eyes. This weird kind of hope. And Peter didn’t have it.”
Becca pictured the dead look in Peter’s eyes, heard the dullness of his voice. “He didn’t expect this when he came here tonight. Give him—” Give him time, she almost said, before remembering that he didn’t have any. “Give him a chance,” she said instead. “He’s in shock. That doesn’t mean he won’t do it.”
“You told me what happened with Meri,” said Kara. “When you talked to her—when she told you what she was planning—did she sound the way Peter did back there?”
“Peter isn’t Meri.”
“I know what I saw,” said Kara. “The reeducation center didn’t just show me what sacrifice looks like—it showed me what it looks like when someone breaks. And he broke in there.”
If Kara was comparing Peter to the people she had known in reeducation, did that mean she was accusing him of— “He’s not a spy.” She spoke before she could complete the thought. But a wisp of doubt crept into her mind. The last time she had chosen to trust somebody despite someone else’s suspicions, she had lost half the resistance.
But this was different. This was Peter. He had been with the resistance longer than anyone except Meri. She knew him from more than a few surveillance reports and a ten-minute conversation in the mall. She knew him.
Before Becca could figure out what to say, Kara shook her head. “I don’t think he is either. He doesn’t act reeducated. Besides, they would have had to keep him at the center for a few weeks at least. You’d have noticed if he disappeared for that long.”
“He hasn’t,” Becca confirmed. But it was too early for relief. Even if Kara didn’t think Peter was a spy, she had brought this up for a reason. “So then what are you saying?”
“I don’t know. All I know is he’s not planning on sacrificing himself.” Kara sighed through her teeth. “You know him better than I do. What do you think he would do?”
“He would do what he promised,” Becca said automatically. But she couldn’t give the words conviction. Peter would never betray the resistance—but would he die for them? Was she willing to risk the resistance on his willingness to make that sacrifice?
She wished she could say yes.<
br />
“And if he didn’t?” Kara pressed.
With another denial on her lips, Becca stopped. She gave her answer with reluctance. “He would run.”
“Then that’s what we’ll plan for.” Kara gave a brisk nod, her voice turning businesslike. “Where would he go? Would he leave right away? Is there anyone he would say goodbye to first?” She tapped her fingers against the door. “Has he ever talked about an escape plan with you, or listened while you discussed it with somebody else?”
We still don’t know, she wanted to protest. He still might do what he promised. But if there was the slightest chance Kara was right, they couldn’t afford not to prepare. “We have a plan in place for if one of us needs to run quickly and can’t reach the others. One of the safehouses has a couple of emergency IDs hidden there—but they’ll only work if no one looks at them too closely. They definitely won’t work now.”
She tried to push away thoughts of Peter’s arrest. Of his confession. Of the final collapse of the resistance. It won’t happen. He won’t run. And if he does, we’ll— She spoke aloud. “How do we stop him?”
Kara only had to think for a few seconds. “We don’t,” she said. “We help.” She drummed her fingers faster. “We get him a real identity. Something that at least gives him a chance of getting past the checkpoints. Something like Micah’s and mine, maybe, that will make him look like someone they don’t want to mess with.”
Becca shook her head. “We went over that in the meeting. It won’t be enough. Not with the lockdown.”
“If he’s going to run either way, better for him to have a small chance than no chance,” Kara pointed out.
Becca nodded, ignoring the growing tightness in her chest. “I’ll talk to him.” Hand halfway to the door, she reconsidered. “No. I’ll wait for him to leave. Then I’ll follow him. If he goes to the safehouse, I’ll tell him the plan. If he doesn’t…” If he didn’t, she would leave him in peace while he did what he had to do.
“You don’t have to wait,” said Kara, her voice suddenly tight with urgency. “He’s leaving.”
Becca brought her head up to see Peter’s car pulling out of its parking space. She turned her face away as he approached. Don’t let him see us. Don’t let him suspect. But he didn’t even glance in their direction. She caught only a brief glimpse of his pale face, his reddened eyes, as he drove past.