Everyone else in camp was functioning; so would she. Carrington couldn’t collapse now, couldn’t allow the sorrow latched to her heart to weigh her down. She took a deep, stabilizing breath and focused on placing one foot in front of the other. Pushing out the worry, the fear, the pain. She pictured the field. The one where her Father had saved her, the Father of Aaron, the one who had brought her a message of truth that had saved her life. She stayed there for a long moment.
Beautiful, beautiful daughter. How quickly you forget.
Carrington let his words fill her brain and focused on all the things she’d heard Aaron talk about throughout the last year. About faith, its power, the way it stood against all opposing forces. How there was nothing strong enough to force it down. Faith was an impenetrable wall, not because it shut the fear out but because it invited the fear in. Carrington could barely wrap her mind around her true sense of self, let alone conceive of any way to use that sense to be fearless.
Such power you possess with just a small amount of faith, yet how quickly you forget.
The words seeped into her soul and warmed the chill inside her bones. How quickly she did forget; how hard it felt to remember the truth in the face of loss and fear.
Remember who you are.
A touch shook her from her inner thoughts and she gasped. Sam and Kate stood in front of her, Sam’s hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked. She was standing still, and both of them were giving her troubled looks.
She hadn’t even realized she’d stopped moving. She gave a small smile. “Sorry—I’m fine.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to go back?” Sam asked.
Carrington shook her head and Sam nodded.
“We want to scope out the area over those hills,” Kate said, pointing to the south where a large grouping of hills stood less than half a mile out. “Wire said he was encountering some weird electrical readings from the other side.”
“This far from the city?” Carrington asked. The Authority City loomed to the east behind them. If you stood on a hilltop and strained your eyes, even from their location, more than twenty miles away, you could just make out the thundering walls that encircled the city and marked it as a prison.
“Yeah, that was Wire’s thought too,” Kate said.
“We move in very carefully and stay close to the trees to keep us covered,” Sam said.
Even this far outside the city walls, Carrington knew that the sky above could be a danger. There were always eyes searching for them. They could never be too careful. Two months ago a flying drone had spotted one of their scouting units and they had barely broken camp before the place was plagued with CityWatch soldiers. They’d lost three Seers that day. Two of them, killed during the camp invasion; the third had been taken, never to be heard from since. His name was Mac Tyler. He’d left behind a wife and two small children. His wife had helped Carrington deliver Elise a month before her husband was taken. No one knew what had happened to him. He had not been executed—not publicly, at least—and their Sleeper inside the prison had never reported him being held there either. It was the not knowing that haunted Mac’s wife. She walked around like a shell most days, doing only what was necessary to survive. Grief had claimed her as one of its own, and she couldn’t be freed.
Mac was not the first Seer this had happened to. Seers were taken nearly every time the CityWatch caught up with them. Usually they were executed. But occasionally raids were not followed by executions, and the rest of the group was unable to decipher where the victims had gone. As if they had been erased from existence. It always left an eerie mark on camp. Executions were cruel and permanent, but at least they left evidence of a Seer’s life.
The gathering of abandoned homes faded into a wooded area and Carrington followed as Kate and Sam moved gracefully through the trees around them. The forest stretched up the sides of the hills they were headed for, lending a thick overhead cover the entire way. The protection ended near the top of the peak and the three slowed as they reached the break in the trees. The sun was warm now, and Carrington felt sweat collecting on her forehead.
“Hopefully it’s something functional so we can repurpose it,” Kate said.
“Hopefully it’s not heavy,” Sam said. “You two stay here.”
Kate rolled her eyes but stayed with Carrington as Sam quickly covered the last few yards to the hilltop and dropped to his chest to safely peer over. He lay there for a long moment, frozen, his eyes trained forward.
“Wonder what it is?” Carrington said.
“I’m ready to find out,” Kate said, and before Carrington could urge her not to, Kate was moving toward her brother. He snapped his head back to her and Carrington watched him mouth something violent, but Kate ignored him and dropped to her belly beside him.
Carrington waited for one of them to motion for her to follow, but they both just lay there and her curiosity got the better of her. She stayed low as she moved up the rest of the hill and could hear Sam’s angered growl when she dropped down beside him.
“What part of stay here was confusing for you two?” Sam said.
Carrington carefully peered over the ledge to see a deep valley below. In its center sat a large, long, white building shaped like a warehouse. A tall, wired fence circled the rectangular structure; a couple of black CityWatch vehicles sat along the outside of the fence, and Carrington could make out armed men walking the grounds.
“What is this place?” Carrington asked.
“I have no idea—I’ve never seen it before,” Sam said.
Carrington searched for any other detail that might help her understand what she was seeing. A rumble came from the north. In the valley below her, a large CityWatch transport kicked up dust as it made its way toward the huge protected building. Kate, Sam, and Carrington all reacted the same and lowered themselves even closer to the ground as they watched the vehicle pull up to one end of the structure. A handful of CityWatch soldiers appeared from inside the building and walked to the transport. They opened the back double doors and motioned for whoever was inside to exit.
Carrington squinted to see as the people stepped out of the vehicle. All of them wore different colored uniforms. Farm Lands, Lint, Cattle Lands, and even what appeared to be a CityWatch member were hauled out of the transport and into the monstrous structure.
“What the heck?” Kate said.
“They look like they’re restrained, but I can’t really see anything clearly from here,” Sam said.
“Are they prisoners?” Carrington asked.
“We need to get closer,” Kate said. She started to move, but Sam grabbed her arm.
“That is not a good idea,” he said. Kate tried to yank her arm away but Sam kept his grip firm.
“What if those people are being hurt? We can’t just leave them here to be . . .” She trailed off.
“To be what? We don’t know what’s happening here. And look at that security! There are only three of us. Walking down there is a suicide mission.”
“He’s right, Kate,” Carrington said, even though the thought of what might be happening to those people made her gut roll. “We’re on a scouting run, not a retrieval mission; we have no idea what we could be walking into. Better to take this information back to camp and discuss it with the group.”
Kate drilled both of them with a glare, but she had to know that they were right. Finally she nodded and ripped her arm away from Sam. She pulled Roxy from her pocket and used the device to capture several photos. She got at least a dozen before Sam motioned for them to head back to camp.
Once back down the hill and into the cover of trees, Sam cleared his throat. “So, Wire let you take Roxy?”
There was a tease on the edge of his voice and Carrington bit back a smile. It was common knowledge that Wire was smitten with Kate, and even more common knowledge that Kate tried extremely hard to pretend that she didn’t feel the same.
“If you say another word I’ll drag you back up the hill and
push you off the edge,” Kate said.
Sam chuckled and Carrington, for a moment, ignored the clawing worry that lived inside her head, the pain that weighed on her shoulders, and the fear that her world was falling apart too fast for her to save it.
Damien waited for the guard to unlock the steel security door in front of them. With a soft click, the door popped open and both men stepped across the threshold into a dark brick-walled hallway. The guard turned back to shut and lock the door through which they’d just entered, then quickly moved to the opposite end of the hall, where there was another locked door. The prison’s security had been updated since the rebels had defeated its previous safety measures, freeing a Seer during an active daytime shift. It had been an embarrassment for the CityWatch and the Authority.
Escorting Damien through the second door, the guard nodded to the president. He then moved back into the hallway, shutting the door and leaving Damien alone in a small square room.
The entirety of the space was white and two doors occupied the walls, one at each end: the door Damien had just stepped from and the one in front of him. A tiny camera hung above the second door and moved silently as it scanned Damien for approval. After a moment of patience, the second door slid open and Damien moved into the final room.
Bare cinder-block walls outlined the space; heavy metal rods stood close together from the floor to the ceiling across the center of the room, dividing the space into two parts: the part behind the barred wall where the prisoner sat and the part where Damien stood. Black cameras hung in all four corners, their bodies rotating on schedule to cover the entire room.
Damien walked forward and sat in the single metal chair that had been brought in for him, crossing his arms over his chest.
Ian Carson sat on the other side of the barred wall in dark-brown prison clothes, his blue eyes tired and his graying hair long. His face was unshaven and pale. It was hard to believe that the man before him used to be the Authority President. The majesty was gone from his shoulders, the thunder in his voice now nonexistent, as if they had all just imagined that Ian had once been royalty. He was now just as common as the thieves who occupied the other cells throughout the prison, except he was in solitary, away from the general prison population. He was also fed three times a day and was allowed weekly visits from his wife and living daughters.
Damien hadn’t been to visit the man once since his incarceration—partly because he didn’t see the point and partly because the sight of the once-great Ian Carson, now a shriveled mess lost to his own weakness, was enough to make Damien violent. How many years had he sat in the judge’s seat, coveting the power and position that Ian held? How many times had he dreamed of gaining favor from the esteemed president? How often had he wished just to sit at the table and follow his leadership? All to discover that the great leader of Damien’s people, his childhood hero, was easily crippled. It was said that those placed on pedestals were oftentimes the ones who disappointed the most in the end. Damien would never carelessly place his faith and affection in an idol again.
But today he had to control his raging disappointments; his plan for humanity couldn’t be finished without this fallen king.
“I was surprised to hear I would be seeing you today,” Ian said.
“I have come with business. A proposal is a better way of putting it,” Damien said.
“How is the Council? The rebels—what of their progress?”
“That information is for Authority members only; it is no longer any of your concern.”
“No, I guess it isn’t. You made sure of that.”
“Resentment won’t do you any good in here.”
“Resentment is all I have left.” Ian paused and shifted his eyes off to the left, staring into empty space. “Did you know that neither of my daughters will come to see me anymore? I suppose that’s my punishment for allowing their eldest sister to be executed.”
Damien kept his expression stony. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
The cell was quiet for a long while as Damien let Ian feel his manufactured empathy. He picked his next statement carefully. “It’s clear that you have some unresolved guilt from the tragic events surrounding the trial and execution of your daughter. What if I offered you a way to be released from your guilt?”
Ian turned his eyes to Damien. “Your business proposal?”
“A chance to right your wrongs as a father and as a president.” Damien saw how his words lit a fire behind Ian’s eyes and he treaded carefully. The tests had shown that results were better with the more willing subjects. “I know there are still those who are loyal to you and that they send you word from the city, so I assume you have heard whispers of the new direction we are taking with our rebellion problem.”
“Eradicating the human disease.”
Damien smiled. “It’s good to have spies, no?” Ian didn’t respond, and Damien didn’t wait for him to. “We are on the edge of a new frontier. Science is making strides within the brain that have previously been thought impossible. Imagine being able to control loyalties and memories. Think of the difference we could make, the chaos we could avoid.”
“You say we as if I have a choice,” Ian said.
“Of course you have a choice. You always have a choice. Your choices are the reason you’re here. The two of us can debate all day about the failings or non-failings that surround your presidency, but the Authority had you excommunicated because of the poor choices that led to lack of control in your station, and your family lost trust in you because of your choices leading to lack of control of your daughter.”
The fire turned to a boil in Ian’s expression, and Damien knew his words had struck a deep chord in Ian’s mind. He just needed a final push.
“And if I choose not to participate in your proposal?” Ian asked.
“You are welcome to live out the rest of your days here, imprisoned for your inadequacies, but I can’t offer you anything to improve your situation if you choose that path. Alternately, you can help me change the world and redeem yourself from the failings that will otherwise haunt you,” Damien said. “That is the choice.”
He saw the slight change start in Ian’s face, and with a final exhalation, Ian’s angry expression lifted to reveal crumpled defeat. He knew Damien was right.
“And the other Authority members that are caged in this brick prison—will you offer them the same chance for redemption?” Ian asked.
Damien paused to admire Ian’s loyalty to even those from his table who had fallen from grace. “Yes, well . . . Isaac’s mind is too far gone to be helped, but Dodson has been made the same offer.”
Ian gave Damien a curious look and without words Damien understood what he was wondering.
“Dodson has no interest in making the world a better place; he sides with the rebellion and will be treated as any other rebel, regardless of the seat he once occupied.”
Ian dropped his eyes to the floor and Damien allowed him some time to consider what was being presented to him. Finally, Ian raised his head. “What becomes of my family if I agree?”
“They will always be treated as an Authority family; I give you my word. If all goes well, you will see them again.”
Ian nodded. “And if things don’t go well?”
Damien felt a twinge of pity touch his chest and he was surprised by the emotion. Maybe his disgust for the man before him had been unwarranted to some measure. It was, after all, his failure that had led to Damien’s opportunity to take charge. Maybe he owed the man’s weakness more credit. “Then I will make sure that people remember you for more than your failings.”
Ian took another moment to consider the offer placed before him. “What happens to me if things go well?”
Damien shifted and gave a half smile. “Then you forget this old life with all your mistakes and pain. You ascend to a truer state of existence.”
Ian and Damien locked eyes for a long second before Ian sighed and nod
ded.
Damien smiled. Part of him had known this would be the outcome all along. There really was no other choice.
Trial Entry 64 | Patient 03-8 (Stephan Mills)
Age: 34 / Gender: Male / Status: CityWatch guard
Drug administered at 04:11 hours
Time in observation: 12 days
Physician’s log
Entry made by attending: Dr. Andrew Phillips
Day 11 after administration: Patient has refused to make further voluntary journal entries, so we are currently uncertain of his mental state. He has begun to show violence whenever food is offered and I fear he may be trying to starve himself. We will be watching him closely.
Day 13 after administration: Patient has presented with a fever of 101.9 for the last 46 hours and has started to have night terrors, very similar to the others in his testing group. We have made a note to decrease the dopamine levels in the current strand to steady heightened brain activity.
Day 20 after administration: Some positive signs today. The patient seems to have forgotten a list of mandatory CityWatch protocols that were essential to his position. Awareness of his failure to retain this knowledge has agitated him further but shows great progress for the current injection strain.
Day 23 after administration: The combination of our chemical manipulations and the patient’s own paranoia have brought about a string of strenuous migraines that, if continued without treatment, could permanently affect his vision. Due to this development, in addition to the lack of proper nutrition because of his refusal to eat, an unacceptable level of stress has been placed on his cardiac muscle. I have therefore made a request that patient 03-8 be moved into Test Group bc:X to see if the new strain of vaccine can yield better results.
The Calling Page 7