For half a second, Nathan seemed to tense ever so slightly; then it was gone. He shook his head.
“Okay, let me get this straight. You think you were chasing me around last night in some back alley at the Boulevard? What on earth—I mean, are you sure it was me?” He sounded confused—almost laughing—but it seemed forced somehow.
“Positive,” said Reed. “You were with some other guy I’d never seen before, walking along the sidewalk by J. Crew. Oh, and you were wearing your green Aeropostale hoodie with the white lettering.”
Nathan’s smile faded a little. “And you, like, followed me?”
“Kind of. I was trying to catch up with you to find out what was going on. I got close, but you lost me. You know, when you hid behind that dumpster.”
Nathan’s smile disappeared altogether. Without a word, he turned and walked to his station, his forehead creased in a heavy frown.
Reed followed him. “It was you, right?”
Nathan let out a deep breath. “Yeah, it was me.” He didn’t sound angry.
Reed waited, but Nathan said nothing more. His face was drawn and tight, his brows knitting as he stared at the floor.
Reed had not seen him like this before. “Okay, dude, I don’t mean to be nosy, but… what’s going on?”
Nathan took another deep breath but kept his eyes down. “I… I don’t think I can tell you.”
“You mean, you don’t know?” Reed had to admit he was relieved; at least Nathan wasn’t mixed up in anything.
Nathan opened his mouth to speak, then dropped his head. “I can’t lie to you, Reed. I wish I could say that, but… I can’t.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment. The other workers were still talking in little groups around them. Someone was finishing a cup of coffee nearby; Reed could just catch the rich scent in the air.
Nathan cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Reed, I… I can’t hide this from you; I mean, you saw me. But I can’t tell you… I mean… you don’t understand… Reed, can I trust you?” For the first time, he lifted his eyes to meet Reed’s.
Reed opened his mouth to answer, but found he couldn’t. He was caught off guard by the intensity of Nathan’s eyes, probing, cutting deep into Reed’s mind. He had the uncomfortable feeling they were reading him like a book. Nathan was making his own decision. Reed had to look away.
“Reed.”
He dared to glance back.
Nathan was still staring fixedly at his face. “I think I can.”
Can? Reed was confused but said nothing.
Nathan’s gaze shifted over Reed’s left shoulder, and he said, more to himself than to Reed, “But it doesn’t look like I have a choice.” He stood for another moment, staring into space before he shook himself. “I’m going to tell you something, but only if you promise you will never tell another living soul. Ever.”
The thought of what he would say to Reagan flashed through Reed’s mind, but he brushed it aside. Nathan’s serious manner was making him curious and apprehensive. He swallowed.
“I promise.” He didn’t like the squeak in his own voice.
“I believe you,” said Nathan quietly. “But we have to wait until the belt is on. It’ll keep other ears from listening.”
The whistle sounded, and the conveyer belts creaked and began to roll. The teenagers scattered to their stations as parts began to appear beneath the machines. Nathan waited until everyone else was chattering busily before he spoke. “Do you remember what I said yesterday about being in a small group?”
Reed nodded.
Nathan blew out his breath. “That’s where I was going when you saw me last night.” He hesitated, then wiped his forehead with his arm. “See, every now and then, a group of kids gets together in one of the apartments. Even on a good night, there’s only a handful of us, but we stay for a couple hours.”
“What’s so secretive about that?” Reed shoved a wrapped part into its box.
“I’m coming to that,” said Nathan patiently. “I’m sure you got a rule sheet when you first moved into the Dorms. If you looked on the back, you might’ve noticed the rule against ‘unauthorized religious ceremonies.’ That’s what our group falls under. See, we’re Christians.”
Reed felt a dropping disappointment. That was it? Nathan was a Bible-thumper?
Nathan continued his explanation. “We’re not an approved religious group since the government hates us so much, so having these meetings is technically illegal.”
Suddenly, Reed was all ears. He might not care for religion, but his opinion of the government was much lower. “Hates you?”
“Definitely. They haven’t liked us for a long time, but since this new group came into power, ‘dislike’ has turned into flat-out hatred. That religious rule was aimed right at us. They’re hoping to snuff out Christianity on the Hill. We weren’t going to let them, so we took to meeting ‘underground.’ They know we’re here—the Council has eyes everywhere—but they haven’t been able to find us yet. You probably saw the cop in the street last night; he’s one of the guards they put on patrol, trying to sniff us out.”
Reed was becoming interested in spite of himself. Not because he cared about Nathan’s religion but because the whole idea of secret groups and underground meetings smacked of danger, secrecy, and even a hint of rebellion. “So you have a dozen kids going to illegal meetings every week. How do you keep that a secret?”
Nathan smiled as he wrapped a part. “We never meet at the same place twice in a row, and we’re not on any kind of schedule. We keep it low key and quiet.” He paused to find an empty box. “Anyway, you probably understand now what was going on last night and why I didn’t really want to tell you.”
“Yeah, sure. But, if everything’s changed around every time, how do you know when and where these things are?” Reed was genuinely intrigued.
“We pass the message to each other whenever we can—on the way to work, on the way home, you know. It works out pretty well.”
“So that’s why you talk to the receptionist sometimes,” said Reed, at last putting the pieces together.
“You noticed that, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” Reed grinned sheepishly. “If you really want to know, I thought you… umm… had a crush on her.”
Nathan laughed, causing some of the other workers to glance in their direction. “Oh, no,” he said, regaining his composure. “We’re just friends—more like siblings really. We’re all like that in this group.”
Reed’s curiosity in this whatever-it-was of Nathan’s was growing. The mystery of the nameless teens and the intrigue of their underground operation sent a shot of adrenaline through his blood, quickening his pulse. It mixed with something else—a deep and empty emotion he couldn’t put a name to. It was like looking into a warm, glowing window from the cold outside.
“So have you always met in the apartments?”
“No, we used to hang out at the Dorms when we all lived there. A few of us moved into apartments at the end of last year so we could have a little more privacy. It’s a lot safer, too. It’s still risky, but God’s been good.”
A box from Reed’s stack conveniently tumbled to the floor, and he was obliged to crawl under the belt to retrieve it. “How did you ever have top-secret meetings in the Dorms?” he asked, reemerging and dusting off his shirt. “I mean, it’s not exactly the most private place in the world.”
Nathan hesitated, a box half-sealed in his hands. “No offense, but I don’t think I should say, because… well, because it’s secret. It would be dangerous to tell. It’s risky to be telling you any of this. I honestly never would have if you hadn’t seen me last night.”
Reed finally put into words a question that had been growing in the back of his mind. “If all this is so risky, then why? Why do you do it? Why do you risk all this just to get together and have a Bible study?”
It came out more derisively than Reed intended, but Nathan didn’t seem disturbed. “I don�
��t think you’ll understand, but there’s one answer for those questions. It’s not a religion; it’s… it’s more.”
More. The word stirred something deep within Reed, so deep he could hardly understand it. It came with a flicker of eagerness and longing.
But Nathan wasn’t finished. “I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s more than what anything else can offer, more than what anything else is worth or what it costs us. Danger, hardship, rejection—that’s nothing compared to it… or Him.”
Reed worked silently, pondering. Then he spoke again. “You’re right. I don’t understand. At all. Totally clueless.”
“I thought so,” said Nathan.
Reed returned the conversation to the earlier topic. “So are you the leader of this whatever-you-call-it group?”
Nathan shook his head. “Oh no, not me. That would be…” he stopped. “That would be someone else.” The sudden, guarded tone that dropped into his voice warned Reed against more questions.
The rest of the day was quiet between the neighbors. Reed pondered what he’d learned, guessing at what he had not, and tried to drop the whole thing from his mind, all of which met with minimal success.
Five o’clock came. As usual, Nathan was one of the first finished and out the door. Reed searched for a glimpse of him or the receptionist as he passed through the lobby, but saw neither.
When at last, cold, hungry, and pensive, he trudged up to the bus, his roommates were already there.
“Well?” Reagan asked promptly.
Reed had forgotten his promise. He searched his mind for something to say. “It was all a mistake. He just missed me in the crowd.”
“That’s it?” Reagan sounded let down.
“Yep,” said Reed, “pretty much.”
He wondered what Reagan would think if he knew the whole story.
Chapter 9
The next few days at the factory were quiet for Reed. Except for “Good morning” and “Good night,” he didn’t speak to Nathan at all. It was hard to say why he didn’t. Perhaps, he reasoned, it was because he didn’t want to be associated with Nathan in case he and his little group were caught. Or perhaps he was avoiding what might come up in conversation and, even more, Nathan’s searching looks.
Dorm life, on the other hand, was anything but quiet. Something exciting and usually loud was always happening. As a roommate of the immensely popular Reagan, Reed was daily swept up in the swirl of social life with hardly a chance to catch his breath. This was a tremendous advantage for him. He could drown out any inkling of homesickness this way. There was plenty of material; Reagan alone attracted enough attention from the female population for all three roommates. Though Reagan was definitely the favorite and Reed and Riley were not stars themselves, they still basked in the light of their luminary roommate. On top of all that, word reached the Dorms that change was coming, and it brought a thrill of excitement to the gray winter evenings.
On a cold night not long after Reed’s enlightening conversation with Nathan, Reagan came swinging through the door into their room. “Yo, guess what?”
Reed, sprawled on the top bunk, sat up. “You got a pay raise?” he speculated.
“I got a pay raise?” guessed Riley.
“Both wrong! We’ve all been wondering about this for a long time.”
“You found out why we’re here?”
“Nope.” Reagan missed the cynical gist of Reed’s words. “You know that thing they’ve been building behind the Mushroom? I found out that’s gonna be a rec center!”
The front legs of Riley’s chair came down with a bang. “No way!”
“Yep,” Reagan continued, unwinding his scarf, “it’s supposed to have racquetball, a gym with volleyball and basketball courts, weight rooms, ping pong, bowling, an indoor track—you name it! They’re even putting an Olympic-size pool indoors and sand volleyball outside.”
“Awesome!” Reed jumped down off his bed as if there wasn’t a moment to lose. “When’s it gonna be done?”
“They say in a month or two, but who knows for sure?”
It didn’t take long for the news to spread through the Dorms. Rumors flew back and forth on all the halls, claiming the completion date for the project was anywhere from two weeks to six months away.
Director Connors put an end to all the guesses by issuing an announcement that the building would be open in just over two months. Reed hoped the Hill could wait that long. Some of the teens seemed to think they would die if it wasn’t open by tomorrow.
Naturally, all the conversation at the factory the next day centered around the news. The workers could think of nothing else. Reed listened to the chatter and put in an occasional word, but Nathan said nothing. That wasn’t unusual, but it made Reed realize that he missed talking with Nathan. It had only been a few days since their last conversation, but Reed felt the estrangement keenly. In a rush, before he lost his nerve, he turned to Nathan. “So are you excited about having a rec center?”
Nathan seemed slightly surprised at the abrupt question, but he pursed his lips. “Kinda-sorta. It’ll be nice to have, I guess, but I wish they weren’t building it.”
Reed blinked. “What? Why not?”
“Have you ever wondered where they’re getting the money to build this thing? Or even how they pay to keep the whole Hill running?”
“Not really.”
“Most of us haven’t, but that’s the thing. The government doesn’t have enough money to do any of this. It’s got to be borrowing from somewhere. Borrowing can’t go on forever; one of these days, the creditors are going to want something back. It’s going to be a rough day when that happens.”
Reed was almost speechless at Nathan’s reply. Almost. “You don’t want a rec center because of where the money’s coming from? Who cares?”
“We should,” said Nathan, unperturbed, “because not caring is what got us into this mess in the first place. We can’t ignore the reason for what they’re doing; they’re trying to take the place of a God they shoved out of the public eye a long time ago.”
“I should have known,” Reed muttered. “So it’s all about religion.”
Nathan heard him anyway. “Kinda. But it’s not a religion. It’s more than that. It affects everything about us; it’s something we’re supposed to live.”
Reed nearly exploded. “You say that, but I’ve met plenty of Christians whose walk don’t match their talk. How do I know you’re any different?” His grammar tended to slip whenever he was agitated.
Nathan sighed. “You’re right. There are a lot of hypocrites. We’re definitely not perfect either, but…” He sighed again. “I guess you’d just have to see us for who we are, get to know us as people, and see what you think then.”
Reed shot a sideways glance at him. Was that a disguised invitation? A strange but strong desire leapt up in him, like the spurt of a lighting match. He wanted to see what Nathan and this little group of his was like, really like. It had nothing to do with religion; the promise of adrenaline and danger were a strong enough hook on their own. Then another thought struck him; the Council had outlawed things like this. This could be a chance to strike back and show who was really boss—a chance to decide for himself. But there was something else, too. It stole over him softly, slipping through the cracks of his mind and past all his other thoughts: the feeling of walking past those glowing windows. He wanted to see it from the inside. All this rushed through his mind in a second.
“Well, could I?”
Nathan didn’t seem to grasp the meaning of his words. “Could you what?”
“You said I should hang out with you guys and see for myself. Could I?”
There was a long silence. “You’re asking to come to one of our meetings?” Nathan spoke very slowly.
“If you let me,” said Reed. He rushed on. “I promise I wouldn’t tell anybody. It’s a win-win. You get to show me you’re not phonies, and I get in on some of this top-secret, Mission Impossible action.”
“Of course,” said Reed. The fever of the moment was already starting to wear off, and he was beginning to wonder why he’d asked.
“Then I’ll talk to the others but, since today’s Friday, it’ll be after the weekend before I can tell you something. Even then, I can’t guarantee you’ll get a solid answer. I can’t guarantee anything.”
Chapter 10
By the time Reed stepped out of Packing Room Two, he’d almost forgotten the whole incident. Much to his joy, today had been the long-awaited payday. His mind filled with images of everything he wanted to get as he tucked his first check into his back pocket. He reached the bus before his roommates and was waiting when they trudged up through the cold dusk.
Reagan spoke before Reed had a chance. “Hey,” he called, “we’ve all got some dough now! How ’bout another trip into town?”
“Exactly what I was about to say!” Reed replied, rocking on his toes cheerfully. “I can finally get a real coat!”
After supper, the three set out along the dim sidewalks. This time, Reagan steered them toward a different part of the city away from the Boulevard. “More stuff like you’ll want,” he explained. “Shopping malls and department stores—it’s the practical side of things.”
The night was cold, but it wasn’t as bone-chilling as nights past. They ambled along for a while, keeping up an idle conversation and occasionally pushing each other into telephone poles for the fun of it. Not five minutes into their walk, Reed felt a strange uneasiness creeping up his spine. He glanced over his shoulder. There was nothing but thick pools of shadow broken by the occasional street light. He shivered. Quit being ridiculous. But a few moments later, the feeling returned, settling in his stomach. Again he looked back; again he saw nothing. It happened several more times, and Reed was becoming disgusted with himself when suddenly—
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