“Hey, Henry,” Phillip calls into the building, and the friendly man with bright red hair pops out with a lantern to greet us.
“Well, I haven’t seen you three all day.” Henry comes over and shakes our hands. “I hope you haven’t been getting into too much trouble.”
I push the dark thoughts of my lack of conversation with Daniel out of my head and share an easy smile with the man who first led us into Blue River. “Depends on what your definition of trouble is.”
“Oh ho, watch out for this one.” Henry jerks his thumb at me over his shoulder as he heads back into the barn. “A pretty face and a quick tongue. Trouble for sure.”
I know he’s just joking, but that quick tongue is exactly the reason the Cardinal sent me to the PIT in the first place.
Henry pulls back a large sliding door and ushers us all inside. John David is already there, leaning on his cane and looking cross. The cavernous room is filled with sacks of feed, hay bales, and a horde of unidentified boxes and crates. But sitting right in the middle is a sleek, black transporter.
I’ve never seen one up close before. Only those in the highest positions can afford this kind of luxury. Everyone uses the Airtrains or walks; even Cheryl’s family didn’t have one.
Ethan already has the door open, asking a million questions a minute about air speed, charging time, and load capacity. Phillip tries to answer him, but he can barely get out half an answer before Ethan moves on to his next thought.
Eric hangs back against the wall, not really even looking at the transporter. I sidle up next to him and nudge his arm with my elbow. “I thought it was coded in the male DNA to have an appreciation for all things with an engine.”
“The transporter isn’t something new for me.”
Of course, Eric’s father is a doctor. He would be able to afford a transporter for their family.
“It’s funny, you know.” Eric glances at me before turning back to stare into space. “Patrice and I used to talk about how we grew up with a lot of luxuries. About the things we used to think were so important and we could never live without. Then we got to Allmore and realized just how unimportant all of that was.” He tucks his head to the side and wipes his cheek with his shoulder. “I really miss her.”
I slide my arm through Eric’s, and we stand together for a minute in our own bubble of silence while Ethan and Phillip chat on. “A really wise woman once told me that we have to learn to accept death as a part of life in order to really appreciate the happy moments.”
“Your mom?”
I laugh loud enough to draw a questioning eye from Ethan. “My mom’s advice trended more toward tips for snagging a wealthy husband. No, this gem actually came from Elizabeth.”
“The world is full of surprises.”
“Okay, you two,” Phillip calls from the open door of the transporter. “Let’s go.”
I follow Eric around to the side of the vehicle. It looks like a long egg turned on its side. A heavy-duty black material coats the bottom half, but the top is all glass, though it’s tinted so I can’t see inside. The door lifts from the top, revealing several rows of comfortable seating and a control panel in the front. Four stabilizing posts stick out the bottom, but they’ll disappear the minute we lift off.
Phillip holds the door up and motions for us to get in. I slide into one of the back seats with Eric, and Ethan jumps into the seat up front next to the controls.
John David stomps over toward us. “I’m against this trip, but if this is what you need, so be it. Just be careful. There’ve been enough risks for one day.”
“Right. Very careful. No risks.” Phillip gives John David a little salute. “Henry, we should only be gone a few hours, four at the most. If you leave the gate open, I can take her in so you don’t have to wait up.”
“I’ll probably wait up anyway. Got some reading to catch up on. Safe travels.”
Phillip climbs inside next to Ethan and the door drops down, sealing shut with a soft hiss of air. Phillip nods and pushes a series of buttons. The transporter purrs to life, barely making any noise. The soft vibration of my cushy seat is the only real indication that the engine is on. Phillip pushes another button, and the transporter lifts about a foot. I can see the barn clearly from inside the tinted windows. Henry and John David stand to the side, waving us off as the stabilizing feet retract into the egg.
Phillip steers us out of the barn and around the fence to the edge of the forest. A quick flip of his wrist sends us flying straight up into the air until the bottom of the transporter barely passes over the tree tops.
My stomach drops, and I have to close my eyes to keep the nausea at bay.
“Oh, yeah.” Ethan high-fives Phillip in the front seat. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
I swallow the extra saliva in my mouth. “Perhaps a bit of warning next time.”
“Right.” Phillip evens out the transporter and glides us out over the trees. “We’ll ride as low as we can without hitting anything until we get closer to our destination. Then we’ll float down to normal traveling height. But you might want to keep a hold on something. If I even think I see a patrol, I’ll have to make a pretty sudden descent.”
I search the seat for a handle, but come up empty. Eric hands me a strap and helps me to wrap it around my waist. I feel a little safer, but this isn’t my idea of a fun way to travel.
“So, are you going to tell us where we’re going yet?”
“I’m taking you to the Territories.”
My stomach sinks again, but it has nothing to do with the motion of the transporter. “I’m going to need a really good reason why you would take us straight into the lion’s den, and I need it now.”
“Because you need to see that you aren’t alone in this fight.” Phillip glances at me over his shoulder before turning his attention back to steering. “I know it feels that way, like you’ve been struggling as an army of one. I can see it in your eyes that you aren’t completely sure any of this can work. I don’t blame you, but only because you haven’t seen what I have. Tonight, you’ll meet a group of like-minded revolutionaries in MidWest who are likely very interested in meeting you.”
My mind is reeling. MidWest. I’m going home. I can’t tell if I’m excited or terrified. “What do you mean by revolutionaries?”
“There are plenty of people out there who disagree with the Cardinal.” Phillip flashes me a smile over his shoulder. “They aren’t in the PIT because they’re better at hiding it than you were. From what we understand, there are groups in every Territory, but this is the one we’ve had the most contact with.”
Eric leans forward next to me. “So what are they doing?”
“Up until now, not much. Mostly meeting covertly to talk about what a disaster the Cardinal is. But Rebecca has them all riled up.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.” Phillip flings out his hand and nearly hits Ethan. “Do you not realize what you did with your stunt at the Acceptance ceremony? No one has ever openly defied the Cardinal before. And then when he admitted that you escaped. The Cardinal was desperate, and he made a mistake. All that did was light a fire under these groups.”
“Now what are they doing?” Eric is practically on the edge of his seat.
“Action. There’s talk of how to get weapons and train with them. They are studying the Cardinal’s movements and looking for holes in his routine that give them a way in. They are motivated, but they lack a clear direction or a full plan they can put into action. I’m hoping that’s what we can accomplish here tonight.”
I sit back in my seat and take in what we’ve learned. There are people out there who hate the Cardinal. Maybe not as much as me, but we have a bloody score sheet. If there are people in every Territory, we could coordinate to get them to the capital. This could change everything. Depending on what kind of numbers we’re looking at, add them to the Freemen and then whatever support we can get from Mexico. We could have a real chance at taking down the Cardinal.
We ride in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The sky is an inky black when Phillip pulls back on a lever and we dip lower. In front of us, the horizon gives off a soft glow. “We’re almost there. I’m going to take us down to normal cruising heights as we head into the city. You guys keep your eyes open. We aren’t in the clear by a long shot.”
* * *
We dip down to just a few feet off the ground and our pace slows to barely faster than I could travel on Salty. Of course, we just covered the kind of distance in the past hour that would have taken us days on horseback.
Phillip slows us even further and lowers the transporter down next to a thicket of bushes. He hits a series of buttons, and we land with a feather light touch. “We travel by foot from here on out. The guards rarely patrol out this way, but we can never assume that they aren’t nearby. So keep your mouths shut and your eyes open.”
Phillip lifts the door and a sharp wind barrels into the compartment. It’s a painful contrast to the toasty warmth of the transporter. We follow him through the woods with only thin shafts of moonlight to guide us. Phillip stops at the edge of the trees and motions for the three of us to stay put.
He walks out of the safety of the forest and across a road that looks worse than the ones I’ve seen in the Freemen villages. We must be at the edge of MidWest, the part I never even knew existed. Tightly packed buildings line the other side of the road. Phillip disappears into the shadows of a building that hasn’t seen a paintbrush in decades. I wait with Ethan and Eric huddled on either side of me, trying to keep the chill out of our bones, and count.
At 362, Phillip dashes across the road to where we are hiding. “Follow me. Quickly.”
The four of us creep into the same shadows that ate Phillip earlier. At least the dark clothes make sense now, and I’m grateful for the wool cap Michael included to cover my hair. Phillip knocks three times in quick succession on a ragged, wooden door, barely loud enough for me to hear.
The door flings open, and the four of us are ushered in so the door can be shut immediately behind us.
A thin older man stands staring at us. A woman I assume is his wife sits at their kitchen table in the cramped room, a threadbare robe pulled over her nightgown.
“I sent my boy out to alert the others. They should be ready for us by the time he gets back. Would you like something to eat or drink while we wait?”
The man’s wife jumps from her seat and rushes to the cupboard, pulling out cups and searching the mostly empty shelves. They clearly have next to nothing, but they’re willing to share whatever it is they might have with an ex Cardinal councilman and three strangers.
“No, please, don’t go to any trouble.” I make my voice clear enough so the woman in the kitchen can hear. “You’ve already done enough.”
“So, this is her.” The man stares at me like I’m the ghost of a deadly predator, not quite sure if I’m real but keeping a safe distance in case I am. His wife abandons the cups and joins him at his side.
“Kids, this is Oster Millhouse and his wife, Susan.” Phillip gestures to the nightgown clad couple. “Mr. and Mrs. Millhouse, this is Ethan, Eric, and Rebecca.”
“You’re Rebecca Collins?”
I nod at the man.
The man stretches his hand out to me, but before I can even lift my arm, Susan barrels into me, nearly knocking me over with her hug. She’s sobbing, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.
“Susan, love, let her breathe.” Oster pulls his wife back gently, and she dabs at her cheeks in an attempt to stem the flow of tears.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just that I’m so happy I finally get to meet you.” Susan takes a deep breath and blinks her watery eyes. “Our daughter, Melinda, was there with you when you hacked into the Acceptance feed.”
Cardinal on a cracker. It was bad enough when I found out the Cardinal tracked down and killed all those people who helped me. Now here are the grieving parents. I reach out an arm to steady myself against Ethan’s strong shoulders.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Susan’s eyes are still watery, but she’s smiling right at me. “Don’t apologize. We always knew Melinda would die in the PIT. No one ever gets out, well until you. But you gave us such a sweet gift. I hadn’t seen my baby girl since she was fourteen and got picked up by Cardinal guards for trying to steal some vegetables.”
Susan breaks down again, and Oster pulls her close. “We sent her out the door that morning for school, and she never came back. Eventually, they sent ‘round a message that she was sentenced to the PIT. We never got to say goodbye or tell her how much we loved her. But you gave us the chance to see her one more time. That’s a gift we never thought we’d get.”
Susan collects herself and grabs my hands in hers, squeezing with each word. “You let me say goodbye. I owe you so much more than my gratitude, so instead you’ll get my pledge. The Cardinal is going to pay for what he did to Melinda and all the others. And I promise to help you in any way I can.”
I stare at Susan and Oster in awe. Here are parents who lost their daughter, and though I didn’t kill her, I put her death into motion. But instead of hating me, they want to help me.
The door behind us pushes open, a ball of energy pulses inside, and the door closes again. When the motion stops, a boy of about nine stands in the room. “Clarence is ready. He’s got the message chain started, and everyone should be there soon. He said to send them over.”
Oster pulls the boy into a hug. “Well done. You and your mother go back to bed, and I’ll be home after the meeting.” He pulls Susan over, and they kiss goodbye, sharing whispered words that only they can hear. It’s clear no one leaves this house anymore without knowing exactly how much they’re loved.
Susan hands Oster a well-worn coat, and he leads us all outside. If it’s possible, the air seems colder than it was just a few minutes ago. Sticking to the shadows lying between deteriorating houses and buildings, Oster leads us through a maze of alleys and passages so thin, they couldn’t even be called alleys. At every intersection, Oster makes us wait a few steps behind so he can check for the all clear. Apparently there’s no such thing as being too careful when you’re heading to a secret meeting full of people trying to take down the Cardinal.
Finally, Oster stops at a small house that looks so much like all the others in the scant moonlight, I have to assume he knows which is which by memory. He doesn’t knock, but simply pushes the door open and ushers us in. The room we enter is dark except for a small candle lit in a window. I didn’t notice it from outside, but I was keeping a pretty close watch on Oster.
He walks across the dark room and through another door that opens to a staircase leading down to what must be a cellar. We follow, with Phillip in the rear, shutting the door behind him. The minute it closes, we’re plunged into complete darkness. Oster stops walking down and knocks on yet another wooden door. There’s a beat of maybe three seconds and Oster knocks again, this time in a bit of a rhythm.
The door opens, flooding the staircase with light and sound. We each walk down the stairs and take in the unexpected scene in front of us. It’s a cellar, but not like any I’ve seen before. This isn’t a damp hole used for storing potatoes and broken appliances that sit for years with a promise to be fixed “one day.” The space is huge, and even without windows, it doesn’t feel like an underground room. There are random chairs and broken down couches spread throughout. Some people sit, but almost everyone is milling about the room, talking to others and sharing greetings. I was expecting a small crowd, maybe a dozen, but there are close to a hundred people crammed into the space.
“Let me through. Please, let me pass.” A familiar voice calls through the room, maneuvering through the sea of tightly packed bodies. “Rebecca.”
A cluster of people close to us parts, and my knees give out on me. My mind whirled during the whole walk here, trying to imagine what we would find when we finally met the revolutionaries who wanted
to fight with us against the Cardinal. I tried to imagine what kind of person would risk their life and the lives of the people they love to help a bunch of Rejects from the PIT.
I smile at the girl who hasn’t changed at all in almost two years. Out of all the things I imagined, I never for a second thought I’d be running into my best friend.
Fifteen
“Cheryl. I don’t… How?” I race over to where she’s standing on the edge of the crowd and don’t wait for her to give me the okay. I rush into her arms and hold her in a hug to rival all other hugs. Her thin arms wrap back around mine and crush me closer. My tears fall on the shoulder of her dress, but I don’t even care. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I’m crying happy tears.
I pull back and stare at her face, smeared with happy tears of her own. Cheryl pulls the stocking cap off my head and fingers the tiny blond curls that are finally more than an inch long. “I like it.”
I laugh and it feels so good. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“Obviously I’m part of the revolution.” Cheryl rolls her sea-green eyes at me as if she’s just explained that if I’m thirsty I should get a drink of water.
“Okay, but how? I mean, your mother—”
“Knows nothing about this. As far as she knows, I’m tucked safely in my cozy bed and the tree outside my window does not provide an excellent ladder for escaping.”
I hug her again. “I just can’t believe you’re here. I’ve missed you so much.”
“Oh me, too. This place was awful without you. Everyone pretending as if they knew all along that you were dangerous. My mother won’t let me go anywhere near your house or even say hi to your parents. Not that I’d have the chance. Between school, piano lessons, and endless hours at the club, she doesn’t leave me any free time. It’s been ages since I could sit with someone with half a brain and just talk.” She sucks in a breath and keeps going. “I thought I was going to lose it, but then I saw what you did at the last Acceptance ceremony. I just knew I couldn’t sit through one more mindless bridge game knowing what a sham the whole thing is. You spoke the truth, so I couldn’t stay silent any longer.”
Rite of Redemption (Acceptance Book 3) Page 10