by Tarah Benner
Dellwood says something about me getting my ass handed to me, and the other controllers laugh appreciatively. I’m only half listening. My brain is running on overdrive, trying to think of a way out of this.
If they really want to charge me for the illegal brawl, I’m screwed. Two hundred people watched me fight tonight, and I have no doubts that Angel’s crew would come forth as witnesses. No matter how much they hate Control, they probably hate me more.
Then there’s the issue of the three thousand credits that were added to my account. How am I going to explain that?
The megalift dings, and Dellwood stops guffawing long enough to grab me by the shoulder and wrench me into the lobby. My eyes struggle to adjust to the dim yellowish lighting in Control, and I cringe when the stench of piss and sweat hits my nostrils.
As he pushes me down the tunnel, I try not to look at the crazed, sunken eyes of all the burnouts and psychos hunkered down in the cages. Several of them bang spoons on the bars as I pass, creating an annoying din that reverberates off the concrete walls.
The cage door groans as Dellwood swings it open, and he shoves me inside with both hands.
I’m too weak to do much to break my fall, so my entire right side scrapes along the rough floor. The door slams, and Dellwood throws one more sneer in my direction before swaggering off to rejoin his sidekicks.
For a second, I just lie there. My shoulder is throbbing, and my face feels as though someone took a sledgehammer to it. After losing to Angel, arguing with Harper, and getting beaten up by a couple glorified security guards, I don’t have enough fight left in me to care that I look pathetic.
If Dellwood dragged me in as part of his revenge scheme, there’s no way they’ll let me call anybody — not Miles, not Harper, not the Recon lawyer. I’m totally screwed.
I’m not sure if I dozed off or just passed out, but when I come to, I immediately get the uncomfortable feeling that someone’s watching me.
“Well this is just pitiful,” says a voice from above me.
I know that voice. I hate that voice.
Reluctantly, I peel my eyes open. It’s a good thing Sawyer injected me with that miracle serum. Otherwise, I don’t think I’d even be able to see.
As soon as Jayden’s sharp features come into focus, I wish I would have stayed unconscious.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I slur.
She clucks her tongue and makes a pouty face that looks all wrong. “Now that’s not very nice, Parker.”
I sit up. “Since when have you cared about being nice?”
“Oh . . . I don’t. But you should think about being a little bit nicer to me.”
“And why is that?” I’m fighting to keep the edge out of my voice, but Jayden knows she’s getting under my skin.
“Because I’m here to bail you out,” she says innocently. “After all, I’m still your commanding officer.”
“Never knew you to give a fuck where I was.”
Jayden’s smirk widens, and the realization slaps me in the face: Dellwood didn’t arrest me just to be a prick, and Control didn’t randomly choose tonight of all nights to enforce the law.
Jayden knew I was fighting, and Constance issued the warrant for my arrest.
“Let me guess . . . you had me brought in.”
“I might have.”
Bitch.
I nod, fighting the fury that’s threatening to spill over.
“So why are you here?” I snarl. “I’m not going to be much use to you like this. You can’t send me out to die when I’m locked up.”
“I didn’t want to have you locked up, Parker,” she simpers. “I just wanted you to know that I could.”
“Not you,” I snap. “Constance.”
She gives herself way too much credit.
“No. I hate to break it to you, but Constance doesn’t consider you much of a threat anymore. To them, you’re just a blip on the radar . . . but I think there’s more to you than they know. I like to keep my eye on you.”
“You’ve always liked to keep an eye on me, but I don’t think it has anything to do with Constance,” I mutter.
Jayden’s expression doesn’t change. Only her eyes hint that I’ve struck a nerve.
“Do what you want, Parker. Fight. Get shot so you can return early from deployment. Just know that there’s nothing in this place that I don’t know about. You can go against me all you want, but there will be consequences.”
I roll my eyes, which just makes her angrier.
She leans forward until her face is pressed right up against the bars, and I fight the urge to move away.
From a distance, Jayden always looks flawless. But up close, I can see the cracks in her makeup and the terrifying gleam in those cold eyes.
“Just remember how easy it is for me to get to you,” she whispers, “and Cadet Riley.”
I stay holed up in my compartment for the next three days, icing my wounds and feeling sorry for myself.
Thanks to Sawyer’s intervention, the swelling in my face disappears quickly, and my nose no longer feels as though it has its own heartbeat. Even after the second beating I took in the megalift, all that’s left of that night is a black eye and the lingering pain in my leg.
My ego hasn’t been as quick to heal. I feel beaten, panicked, and broken.
I know everybody’s talking about Eli Parker’s humiliating defeat, and Dellwood and Jayden are probably still reveling in the satisfaction they got from exercising their power. To keep myself from murdering one of them or having to face Harper, I go into full hermit mode.
I visit the canteen during off hours to grab meals to go, and I purposely avoid the training center. Harper messages me several times, but I just tell her I’m sick.
She knows I’m lying, but it doesn’t really matter. She takes the hint.
After missing our training session on Monday, I get a very unwelcome summons to Jayden’s office. I don’t even question why she wants to see me anymore. I just assume the worst.
It isn’t enough for her to have me arrested and humiliated. She wants me at her beck and call.
When I get to Jayden’s office, I’m shocked to see Harper already standing in front of the enormous desk. She’s staring straight ahead, while Jayden is watching me like a cat eyeing a canary.
She drinks in my miserable appearance, from the black eye to my uneven stride, and actually smiles.
“Parker . . . nice of you to join us.”
“Sorry I’m late.”
I’m not sorry.
“Well, you’re here now,” she says in an acidic voice.
Jayden hates people who make her wait. Eli, one. Jayden, zero.
“Take a seat.”
I’d much rather stay on my feet, but my leg is killing me. I sink down in one of the huge chairs facing her, and Harper sits stiffly beside me.
“As you know, we’re trying a new strategy on the Fringe.” Jayden rolls her eyes. “Orders of the undersecretary. Now the patrols within the cleared zone haven’t turned up any drifters — no surprise there — so I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands.”
“Really?” I try to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but Jayden’s glare tells me I wasn’t successful.
“Yes. I sent another team to the location you supplied to gather intelligence about the drifters in the area. They returned with some interesting news.”
My stomach clenches, and Harper’s head twitches toward me.
“What news?” she asks.
“The base you found in the restaurant serves as a drifter rendezvous point. Tomorrow, they will return.”
“And what do you want us to do?” I ask, glancing at Harper.
“This gang is escalating. They may be the biggest threat this compound has ever faced. We need to go straight to the source. I need you to discover the location of their home base.”
My heart sinks. Of course she wants to deploy us. I dig my fingers into the fake leather armrests, willing myself to s
tay calm for Harper.
“Is there a problem, Parker?” Jayden asks, sounding utterly delighted. “Your time in the compound for training cadets means you’re due for twice-monthly deployments. And you’re the one who requested Cadet Riley as a partner, so unless —”
“No,” I growl. “There’s no problem. When do we go out?”
“Tomorrow at oh-six hundred.”
Harper draws in a sudden breath.
“Something wrong, Cadet?”
“No,” I say sharply, glancing at Harper.
Jayden raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
“Harper . . .” I warn.
“No,” says Jayden, her mouth tightening into a hard line. “I want to hear this.”
Harper closes her eyes. “You can’t send him out.”
“Harper!” I snap.
I don’t want her to say it. If she does, she’s going to find out Jayden had me arrested, and I can’t deal with that right now.
Harper ignores me. “You can’t.”
Don’t do it.
Jayden’s fighting a smile. “Why not?”
Harper’s eyes shift to me, and I jerk my head infinitesimally.
“His leg is all messed up again. He doesn’t move as fast.”
“Again?” Jayden prompts, barely able to contain her excitement.
Harper snaps her mouth shut.
“It’s all right, Riley. I heard about the lieutenant’s little brawl. I also heard he was arrested for fighting.”
“What?”
“My leg is fine,” I snap. “Everything’s fine.”
“Clearly!” Jayden snaps. “Control dropped the charges because, as far as I’m concerned, that fight never happened. It’s absurd to me that my best lieutenant would do something so stupid.”
I bite my tongue, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“You were arrested?” Harper splutters.
I clench my jaw and avoid her gaze.
Jayden smirks. “I’ll be expecting a full report from you two. Find out what I need to know, and come right back. Carry whatever supplies you’ll need. If you aren’t back in three days, I’m going to assume you were killed in action.”
“Should we kill the drifters after we learn what we need?” I ask. I’m gripping the armrests so tightly my knuckles are nearly white.
Jayden inhales deeply, basking in the possibility of bloodshed. “No. Keep them alive. I don’t want to spook the others. We’ll deal with them when the time comes.”
I choose to ignore this morbid statement. “When should we report for briefing?”
“There’s no need. The undersecretary is not concerned with drifter activity beyond the cleared zone at the moment.”
Great, I think. Jayden’s going rogue, and she’s chosen us to do her dirty work.
Harper is quiet — too quiet.
I know she’s worried and pissed off, but when Jayden dismisses us, she stands and salutes as though nothing’s wrong and beats me out the door.
I follow her automatically and turn down the tunnel right behind her.
“Riley!” I call, acutely aware of the throng of people rushing to the canteen for dinner. “Hey! Wait up!”
People whip their heads around to look at me as I limp behind her. I’m sure they’re all reliving the fight in their minds, because the looks they give me are full of pity.
Harper doesn’t slow down. In fact, she quickens her pace, and my leg puts up a fight as I try to match her speed.
At first I think she’s going back to her compartment, but she passes the cadet wing and keeps walking until she reaches the training center. It’s completely deserted, and I slam the doors shut behind me and follow her over to the far wall.
If I didn’t know better, I would think she doesn’t even know I’m here. She’s found the heaviest punching bag and started wailing on it as though her life depends on it.
“Harper . . .”
“Leave me alone, Eli,” she snarls, keeping her back to me as she works the bag. She isn’t wearing gloves, and I know the brick-solid canvas has to be destroying her hands. With every punch, her knuckles glow a brighter red, but she doesn’t stop.
“What are you doing?” I sigh. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
She doesn’t listen.
“Harper, stop.”
I try to pull her away, but she jerks her shoulders out of my grasp.
“You were arrested?”
“It was no big deal. Jayden just did it to show that she could. It was just a power trip.”
She lets out a crazed laugh. “Right. It’s no big deal. Constance just threw you in the cages for fun. Were you even going to tell me?”
“No!” I say without thinking. “Why would I?”
“Because Jayden is escalating! That’s bad news, Eli. And it affects me, too. Are they going to have me arrested?”
“You’re not doing that fight, so it has nothing to do with you.”
“That’s not your decision.”
“No, but —”
“I’m doing the fight.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, willing myself to be patient. Harper is stubborn and reckless, and I know she’d do the fight just to spite me. “Harper —”
“I can’t do this again,” she snaps, a desperate edge to her voice. “I can’t go back out there.”
Suddenly, I feel as though I skipped a step going down a flight of stairs. We aren’t talking about the fight anymore. It was just an outlet for Harper’s fear and frustration.
For some reason, I’m unable to muster the appropriate amount of sympathy. I’m still too busy feeling sorry for myself.
“Look, I’m sorry, but we don’t have a choice.”
“This is a death mission!”
“It’s always a death mission. That’s all we’re going to get until Jayden gets rid of us. You know that.”
“No, Eli. Your leg!” she snaps, stepping back far enough to aim a wild kick at the bag.
The instructor in me winces at her atrocious form, but I’m impressed by her power. Her kicks are fueled by rage, and the heavy bag swings a little more with each strike. Then she aims a low kick — Angel’s kick — and I actually cringe.
Before she can wind up again, I step forward and grab her by the shoulders. I try to pivot her around to look at me, but she jerks out of my grip and swings around with a vicious hammer fist. I’m legitimately stunned by the force of the blow when her fist connects with the bag.
“What was I supposed to do?” I ask. “Tell her I’m too injured to go?”
Harper rolls her eyes. “Yes!”
“She still would have sent you.”
“It doesn’t matter. I can handle myself! I don’t need you to be my guardian angel!”
That stings more than I’d like to admit, and I feel my face heat up.
Even in the middle of her meltdown, Harper realizes she hurt my feelings. Her huffy expression dissipates, and she tilts her head sideways. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just scared, okay?”
“I know.”
“Look . . . Constance is going to kill me regardless. You can’t protect me from everything. But you can protect yourself.”
She turns back to the punching bag, but the fight seems to have gone out of her. This time, she doesn’t resist when I spin her around.
“I’m going with you,” I say in a voice I hope conveys my determination.
Harper won’t meet my gaze. She’s breathing hard, and a few pieces of dark hair have drifted out of her messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright with anger and adrenalin, and I know I should put some distance between us.
It’s not that I think Harper might hit me. It’s the fact that she’s unstable, and it’s making me unstable.
Finally, she says, “If you get killed out there because of me . . .” She shakes her head, looking caught between crying and yelling. “This is all my fault. You were fine before I came along. Constance wasn’t trying to send you ou
t on these crazy missions. You weren’t entering blind fights like a fucking moron . . . or getting arrested . . .”
“You just make my life more interesting,” I say lightly.
Harper has turned my life completely upside down, but not for the reasons she thinks.
“Listen. I made a choice to put myself in the middle of all this. It isn’t your fault.”
When she finally snaps her gaze onto mine, her eyes are deep and glassy like two pools of still water.
“I can’t . . . do this again.” She shudders, and I wait for her to continue. “I can’t go out there. I can’t live like this. I don’t know how anyone does.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding, knowing what I’m about to say isn’t the right response. “It gets easier.”
“I don’t want it to get easier!” she cries. “This is wrong, Eli! We shouldn’t be murdering these people. I don’t care what they’ve done or what they’re planning to do. They’re just people.”
For the first time, everything becomes extremely clear.
Harper’s right. I never considered what I did for Recon murder. I told myself we were fighting a war. That was the only way I could live with what I was doing, but it’s all been a lie.
I blamed myself for every cadet’s death, but I never gave a second thought to killing drifters. The full weight of it hits me all at once, and I have to fight just to stay standing.
“We have to do this, Harper,” I say, trying to keep the pain out of my voice. “Hopefully this will be the last time. After that, we can leave the compound and start over.”
“It’s too late,” she whispers. “I can’t erase what I’ve done. I can’t just forget. Even if we go to another compound, every day I’ll think . . . the only reason I’m here is because someone else is killing the last survivors. I can’t live with that.”
“Yes, you can,” I say, desperate for her to understand. “It isn’t right, but nothing about this is right. We shouldn’t have survived Death Storm, but we did. It’s what we do, you and me.”
“I don’t want to just survive, Eli. I need there to be a point to all this. Ever since we got back, I wake up every day and think . . . what if I just didn’t? It wouldn’t matter.”