Abandon p-3

by Elana Johnson

  He finally faced me, and his eyes looked shiny, almost as if he was crying. “Thanks,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Dealing with the voice sucks sometimes. I know how it is.”

  “You ever kill someone?” he asked, his words quiet and strong—the way he’s always spoken. That’s Gunn. He’s got some real resolve.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah.”

  * * *

  Rancho Port perches right on the ocean. The wind blows constantly, and it’s hot as hell most of the year. Even now, in early April, as I led our small band of Insiders to the swampy areas on the eastern border, the heat oppressed me.

  Dread settled in my stomach. As if Vi sensed it, she nudged her hoverboard closer to mine. I didn’t look at her. I wouldn’t like what I found reflected in her eyes. My fear. Her reassurance.

  Sometimes I really hated that my girlfriend could see inside my head.

  Vi moved away, leaving behind a wake of her wounded pride. I let her go, needing to be alone. I flew over miles of swampland, breathing shallowly at the stench of warm earth, stagnant water, and dead fish. I found myself flying slower and slower. Everyone had pulled ahead of me by the time the first buildings came into view.

  I drifted closer to the open water. I imagined the path I’d used to escape just several short weeks ago. That tree, had I paused behind it? That stretch of beach, had I run as hard as I could, my feet sinking into the wet sand even as the next wave obliterated my footsteps?

  And that stretch of open swamp, was that where the taser fire had hit me in the back? Where the silencers were applied? Where Thane stood over me, his eyes broadcasting hatred and his voice dripping with disdain?

  Now Thane rode in the front of the pack—where I used to ride.

  He spoke to Vi with a genuine smile on his face—like I used to do.

  Before he saved me from the burning building in Castledale, I would’ve felt anger and hatred and distrust. Now I only felt sadness that could not be explained.

  Sure, I’d cried many times. But that was usually from pure helplessness. Never sadness. I hadn’t felt sad since my parents died. I’d closed off that part of myself, determined not to let myself get hurt.

  I watched Vi’s shoulders tense. Her sadness matched my own. She wanted me to let her in.

  Could I do it? I’d established a boundary in all my previous relationships. Indy had not crossed it, though she’d tried—and she knew it. Other girls had been nothing to me. Vi had broken me within days, and yet I continued to push her away. I was constantly trying to re-establish the boundary she had breached.

  Why? Her voice in my head felt so intimate. Anyone else, and I’d have barked at them to get the hell out of my mind.

  Not her.

  Never her. I asked instead of commanded, and I thought snippy things to hurt her, to drive her away, so I could blame her for my weaknesses.

  I don’t know, I thought. I’m sorry. I didn’t have any other words that seemed adequate. I was sick of apologizing to her, but I would from now until forever.

  She dropped back, letting the others flow around her, until we flew side by side. I reached for her, and she let me hold her hand. The act was simple, yet it spoke volumes.

  “You mess me up,” I said.

  “Why, Jag Barque . . . is that a compliment?”

  I smiled, looking at her. “I don’t let anyone in.” Naked fear flowed in my voice.

  She heard it, loud and clear. “I won’t hurt you,” she promised. “I love you.”

  It was the first time she’d ever said it before I did. The words rang with truth, with power, and I knew she loved me.

  “You have to find a way to let me in,” she said. “I won’t hurt you, but you’re hurting me. I refuse to live like my parents.”

  “They love each other,” I said, surprised by her statement.

  “They love what they can do for each other,” she corrected. “I love you for you. Not for your voice, or because you’re the leader of the Resistance, or anything else. I love you because you’re Jag Barque, and because that’s good enough for me.”

  I felt something hiding between her words. “You’re good enough for me.”

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t.”

  “You feel like you aren’t.”

  She pinned me with a pointed look. “Because you act like I’m not.”

  I couldn’t argue. When I wouldn’t let her in, she heard I’m not good enough for him. He doesn’t trust me. He doesn’t love me.

  “This is very difficult for me.” I squeezed her hand. “You know that, yeah?”

  She gripped my hand in return. “Yeah, I know that.”

  * * *

  Vi and I caught up to the group just as we entered the city proper. My guard went up. Something felt wrong. It was silent. Still. No steam rose from the factories; no movement flowed through the streets; no life stirred in the buildings.

  Just over a month ago this city had bustled with workers. Thane had been here; Zenn’s father had been murdered. What had happened after I’d been taken to Freedom?

  Thane swung around to fly beside me. “No transmissions.”

  “Vi?” I asked. “What can you sense?”

  “No Thinkers,” she responded. We all swept our eyes from side to side, expecting a threat to materialize out of thin air. “There are people here, but they’re all . . . asleep.”

  “Asleep, asleep?” I asked. “Or brainwashed?”

  “Asleep,” she said. “It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, and they’re in bed.”

  “Insiders?” Gunner guessed. “Like Rise Twelve. They work at night and sleep during the day.”

  “The whole city?” Raine asked, giving sound to my question.

  “What happened to their Director?” I aimed my inquiry at Thane. He had been here, after all.

  “Director Jeffries was promoted after your capture,” Thane said, squinting into the horizon. “Van made him Thinker over Confinement in Freedom. I don’t know who was positioned here.”

  “They’re not here now,” Vi said. “I feel—” She squeezed her eyes shut. “A lot of strong will, but nothing like a Director.”

  “The Insider movement was well received here,” Thane said. “Xander Bower had a lot of charisma, and he treated everyone like an equal. The people joined because of Xander’s excellent leadership.”

  “Zenn’s dad?” Vi asked, her voice pitching up an octave. “Is he still here?”

  “He’s dead,” I whispered.

  She jerked her head toward me. Dead?

  “I’ll tell you the story later.”

  Does Zenn know? she asked.

  I shrugged, but not in a callous way. More like I don’t know, but I doubt it, and I don’t want to be the one to tell him. In fact I wasn’t sure what I’d do if/when I ever saw Zenn again. Punching him seemed like a good idea though. Then apologizing, and then telling him about his dad.

  Vi didn’t remark about me wanting to hit her ex-boyfriend, so I knew she was seriously disturbed that Zenn’s dad had died here. We landed, my team standing in the middle of the empty street, unsure where to go.

  “This way,” I said, striding toward a building where I could feel the slightest hint of emotion. “Gunner?”

  He joined me, casting his eyes around, up, and down. “What is that?” he asked.

  “Someone is unsettled,” I said. “But not afraid. Not uncomfortable. Worried?”

  He shook his head. “Worry feels almost right. But it’s a warm kind of worrying.”

  “Yeah,” I said absently. I’d felt this emotion before. From a very good friend. My heart skipped with hope. “Vi? There’s a man inside. Is his name Irvine?”

  We’d reached the door. The panel on the top flashed with red lights—locked.

  “He’s keeping all personal information buried,” she said.

  I thought about Indy and what she’d do if she were here. She’d pound that door to the ground, yelling for her brother to cracking open up alrea
dy. She’d look at me wildly, her pulse bouncing in her throat. She’d say my name in the most desperate way. I wanted the person in the building to be Irvine so bad. If not for myself, for Indy and her parents.

  I looked up at the twenty-story building, imagining Irvine standing at the window looking down on us. “Irvine!” I yelled. “It’s Jag Barque!”

  Behind me, Thane hissed his displeasure at my announcement. I ignored him as adrenaline coursed through my body. Before I was caught in the Goodgrounds, Irv had been assigned to come south and infiltrate the government. He could’ve done exactly that. He could’ve taken over after Jeffries was promoted.

  A nasty thought struck me. Maybe he’s not on our side anymore.

  “No Thinkers here,” Vi murmured. “He has talent?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s a—”

  “Technopath,” Vi finished. “I can feel that now.”

  “Vi, can you get us in there? Gunn?” Desperation overrode every other impulse.

  Whether Vi did it, or Gunn did, or Irvine did, the door switched to unlocked. Green lights decorated the top panel. I charged inside.

  The lobby of the building streamed with tech. P-screens adorned every wall. Gadgets blinked in each corner; seeker-spiders scuttled into hidden places.

  Before I could smile—this place screamed Irvine!—a man materialized in front of us, solidifying into a tall, hulking shape with dark skin.

  Irvine Blightingdale.

  I exhaled for what felt like the first time since watching him disappear into the crowd in the Goodgrounds market. Irvine stepped forward and gathered me into a hug. I couldn’t stop smiling and slapping him on the back. Near the end of the reunion, Irv said, “The time is now.”

  “The time for what?” I asked. Vi immediately took my hand, claiming me as hers. Irv noted the movement and raised his eyebrows. He knew me as Jag Barque, the don’t-give-a-damn, don’t-try-to-get-close-to-me leader of the Resistance.

  “Irvine, this is my girlfriend, Violet Schoenfeld. Vi, this is Irv, Indy’s brother and one of my best friends.”

  As they shook hands, Irvine leaned in and whispered something to Vi that I couldn’t quite catch. She blushed.

  After all the introductions, I pressed Irv again, “The time for what?”

  “Freedom fell and is ready to be reborn,” he said. “We’re leaving for the capital in five days.”

  “We’re coming,” I said automatically.

  “I imagine you’ve been traveling. Let’s get you up to speed,” he said, turning toward his teched-out wall. “Anyone opposed to particle acceleration?”

  * * *

  As it turned out, we were all opposed to particle acceleration. Vi leaned against the wall, her eyes closed, moaning. My stomach lurched, upset it had been taken apart and put back together in under two seconds.

  Irvine shook his head to reorient himself, then strode down the hallway and into a sunlit room. Gunn recovered faster than me but stayed with Raine, whose face was the color of white-crested waves.

  Thane tended to Vi, which seemed ironic, all things considering. She motioned for me to go ahead, and my curiosity won. I stumbled down the hall and into Irvine’s techno lair. Blinking, flashing, pulsing lights bounced along every surface. If the particle accelerator hadn’t given me a stroke, this room would have.

  The counters, shelves, walls, and ceiling were all silver, polished and reflective. Irv sat hunkered down in the corner behind a chest-high counter. The winking gadgets shone on his bald head, and he wore dark sunglasses as he worked with white-hot techtricity.

  With his bare hands.

  “Is it safe to come in?” I asked from the doorway.

  “Definitely,” he said.

  “Catch me up.” I moved past row upon row of Irv’s inventions. “What is all this stuff?”

  “Weaponry. You think General Darke is going to go down without a fight?”

  I slumped into the chair across from Irv. “Isaacs said the city is decimated. His tech emptied Rise One. Three other Rises crumbled to the ground.”

  Irv didn’t look up from his work. “That leaves at least fifteen left to remove. And their Thinkers. And then the General.” He spared me a glance. “Trust me, you’re going to need weapons.”

  “Trek—”

  “Doesn’t have a fraction of what he needs to do this,” Irv interrupted. He brandished one of his tech tools at me. “And your voice will do a lot, but not enough. You need me, Jag.”

  “I know that,” I said quietly. “I’ve always needed you.” What I couldn’t say was still heard. Irv nodded slightly, acknowledging my nonverbal apology. I shouldn’t have taken him with me on the mission into the Goodgrounds, not when he was scheduled to infiltrate the Association.

  I cleared my throat. “So, you been down here all this time, or what?”

  “About seven or eight months,” he said casually. “Jeffries appointed me Director after his promotion.”

  I choked. “Director?”

  “Tech like this doesn’t go unnoticed. Someone had to authorize the production schedule. Turns out Jeffries wanted Rancho Port to be known for something. We thought it would be the tech.” He pushed his glasses up so I could see his eyes. “Sorry about the capsule, brother-man.”

  I choked. “You knew about that?”

  “We got you out as fast as we could.”

  “We?”

  “The Insiders. Xander and I coordinated the escape, the day after I took command of the city.” He heaved a sigh and replaced his glasses. “Not everything went according to plan.”

  “Xander died.”

  “And you got caught,” he said. “But at least you were out of that capsule. Jeffries had been promoted, and I got Rancho Port.” He kept working on his tech, welding this or sparking that.

  I wish he’d look at me again. “What’s going on here?”

  “Stick around, and you’ll see for yourself.”

  “I heard all your people are asleep.”

  “You heard?” Irv paused in his welding.

  “I’ve got a mind reader on staff.” I leaned back and chewed on my thumbnail.

  “Where’s the rest of your ‘staff’?” Irvine asked.

  “I sent a team to Grande to check on Laurel Woods, who manages an underground—”

  “I know who Laurel Woods is,” Irv said. “We’ve been working together for months.”

  A flash of annoyance shot through me. As the cracking leader, I should’ve known all this. If Irv was a Director, why hadn’t he notified Indy—who had been leading the Resistance while I’d been detained—two months ago?

  “Great,” I said, my voice hollow. “We’ll send word to them when we launch the attack, yeah?”

  I wasn’t really asking, but Irv said, “Yeah,” anyway. He finished working on his gadget and set it in a row of identical weapons. “My people wake up between four and six,” Irv said, grinning. “The night show is fantastic.”

  * * *

  Irv never was a liar. The night show was spectacular. The people slowly got up, at all different times. Some went jogging. Some slept in. Some made breakfast, and some stood on balconies and sipped coffee.

  Near nine, most people left their apartments and went to work. By work I mean that they went to different buildings and performed jobs like making soap and sewing clothes. Some worked in the fields, preparing the ground for planting. Some collected water, some canned food, some fiddled with tech like Irv.

  I stood in Irv’s monitoring room with Vi, Raine, Gunner, Thane, and Isaacs, watching. Their emotions blended with mine, but it didn’t matter, because we were all feeling the exact same thing.

  Shock.

  Sure, I’d imagined what a free society might look like. It wasn’t this. In my dreams, there was unrest. Disease. Destruction.

  But this society, these people, operated almost like the brainwashed. Irv hung out in the back of the monitoring room, his arms crossed. Several minutes into the whole they-all-perform-a-job-they’re-
good-at thing, he spoke.

  “So, what do you think?”

  What do I think? I thought. What do I think?

  Truth was, I didn’t know what to think.

  “It’s unbelievable,” Raine said. “Do you tell them all which jobs to do?”

  “At first I did,” Irv said. “I matched everyone with a job I thought they’d be good at, based on their Citizen profiles.”

  “And then?” Gunn asked.

  “Then I let them pick,” he said. “People are more productive when they’re working a job they like. Some kept the same job, but as I interviewed each person, some adjustments were made. Most jobs have been filled, and those that aren’t get done on a rotational basis.”

  “Wow,” I said, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say. I turned to Irv. “So what do you need us to do?”

  * * *

  The next five days were a whirlwind of activity as I oversaw what Irv had planned and, with Raine, carried out interviews with possible Resistance recruits. Gunn and Vi were assigned to gather as much tech as possible, as per their technopathic abilities, and I didn’t get to see my girlfriend very much.

  By the end of the fifth day my nerves were frayed. “Well?” I snapped at a possible recruit. I took a deep breath as Raine pinned me with a glare.

  We needed people to manage communications, people to help transport the tech, people to bring and prep food. The list went on and on. We’d fulfilled nearly all the assignments and sent the willing recruits to Thane for further instruction.

  I let Raine finish the interview with the man and extend the invitation for him to join us on the tech transportation team. Our plan was to leave at nightfall, with a midnight stop-off in Grande. We’d make it to Freedom by daybreak.

  After the man had his instructions and left, Raine put her head down on the silver table and closed her eyes. We hadn’t slept much over the past few days, and I didn’t even have the energy to breathe. Good thing it was an involuntary action.

  I would’ve fallen asleep if an alarm hadn’t shrieked. Outside the door the communications hub went wild with flashing lights. A couple of engineers rushed into the room to receive the message.