The Divinity Bureau

by Tessa Clare

  Still – it’s better than giving my life to the Divinity Bureau.

  ‘If we make it on that list, we’re not going to come quietly.’

  Footsteps follow closely behind me.

  ‘We’re going to fight and claw our way out!’

  I push forward.

  ‘And we’re going to fight until we have a say in how we live and how we die!’

  I’m getting blisters on my feet. A sharp rock punctures my foot, but I ignore the blood seeping through my wool socks and the gnawing pain in my leg. I need to get away. I need to do everything it takes to survive.

  ‘If that doesn’t scare you, then let me remind you of this…’

  I only stop when I hear a gasp and realize that my mother is no longer behind me. When I turn my head, I see that my mother has tripped over a curb. “Mom? Are you…?”

  The split second is all that’s needed for the officers to reach us. At once, three of them point their guns at me.

  “Put your hands in the air!”

  I look around and realize that I don’t have a choice. I put my hands in the hair, letting my head hang low.

  “I said, put your hands in the air!”

  My head shoots up, and I realize that my mother isn’t complying. Instead, she stands up and glares defiantly at the officers. For the first time, I regret the words that I spoke in front of the bureau. At this moment, I’ll do anything to take them back.

  ‘When you have nothing left, you don’t have anything to lose.’

  My mother doesn’t have anything to lose, except for me. I’m not religious, but I’m willing to pray to any deity that will listen that it’s enough.

  My mother glares defiantly at the officers. “Make me.”

  The response is three resounding gunshots that echo throughout the otherwise quiet neighborhood. I cringe. I don’t want to watch, but a part of me needs to know if it’s real. I regret it the moment the bullets pierce her body. My mother gives me one last helpless look, but by the time I look away, her eyes have glazed over. She falls to the ground a moment later.

  “No!” I cry out. “No, no, no!”

  I immediately move to reach out to my mother, but another gun points in my direction. “April Maheva McIntyre, you are under arrest for evading the election process, harboring a fugitive, and conspiring against a government agency. You will have your rights read to you. You have the right to remain silent…”

  I can’t stay silent. I will never be silent to these atrocities. I scream, agony echoing into the night.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ROMAN

  M y plan was to formulate a plan of action on the road. All I know is that I need to reach the address that Finn had given me. My first thought is that it’ll be the first time I’ve seen April in months, after believing that I’ll never see again. My second thought is chastising myself for allowing my mind to venture in that direction, not now when the situation is dire. My third thought is how I’m going to need to get them out of the house as quickly and discreetly as possible. After that –

  My thoughts are interrupted by Tate using his Mobiroid to change the music. A synthesizer and auto-tuned singing replaces the sound of banjos and guitars.

  “I’m vetoing this selection,” says Finn.

  “Why?” Tate whines. “You vetoed the last three songs I picked!”

  As it turns out, my plan for peace and quiet was disrupted as soon as Tate caught the wind that April was in danger. Finn had also insisted on coming along; I’m glad he did because I wouldn’t know where to go without him. Considering the circumstances, I was expecting us to talk about what we expected to do when we got there. It’s practically our last stretch before we go into battle. Instead, all we’ve done is make awkward small talk and bicker about what songs were playing on the radio.

  “This isn’t music,” Finn says pointedly. “This is a computer playing a bunch of loud noises.”

  I do my best to hold in a snicker.

  I don’t trust Finn completely, but I’d be stuck if it weren’t for his knowledge and help. Finn had spent years working directly under Gideon, and if there’s anyone who knows the Divinity Bureau inside and out, it’s him. Tate, on the other hand, only seems to be there for moral support. He cares about April, but I’m not sure how that will help us get her out of danger. Still, I wasn’t able to say no when Tate called out of work for the next week and hopped into Finn’s car.

  “How much longer do we have to go?” I ask. We’ve been driving for days, switching off drivers on occasion. Right now, it’s my turn; and I’m growing impatient.

  “Another hour,” says Finn. “Macy had moved to District 205 initially, but she came here shortly afterward.” He eyes me conspicuously, before asking, “Do we know what we’re going to do when we get there?”

  I think about my answer for a long moment before answering: “I’m going to talk to her.”

  Tate coughs loudly in the backseat, though it sounds suspicious.

  My eyes narrow. “What?”

  Tate shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s just…” He trails off, much to my annoyance. I’ve barely slept and barely eaten in the last few days, so I don’t have the patience for half-answers.

  “It’s just, what?”

  “I don’t think April will go with you unless you prove that she needs to go,” Tate admits softly.

  “Why not?”

  In my opinion, it should be pretty obvious that we’re not driving a few hundred miles for a field trip.

  Tate looks away. “You know how April is. She’s too headstrong to let anyone help her. Why else do you think she’d want to do this on her own?”

  “She didn’t have a choice!” I shoot back, frustration getting the best of me. Finn is forced to take control of the wheel momentarily to keep us from swerving off the road.

  “Did she?” Tate quips back. “What did she say when you offered to come with her?”

  I had spilled the details about April’s departure when we were drunk one night, and I’m beginning to regret it.

  “You’ll only hold me back.”

  The rest of the car ride is spent in silence. Tate and Finn have given up on fighting for control of the music, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  As the miles go by and bring me closer to my destination, I wonder if Tate was right. At the moment, she’ll probably think that I’m an overly attached boyfriend clinging for any chance to stay with April – and I can’t deny that a part of me is. I wouldn’t mind leaving my life behind for her. What do I have? A 250 square foot apartment that I can barely afford and an hourly job at an electronics store? I’d need someone to take care of Neville, but I don’t have much else going for me. Maybe April has the right idea in wanting to start over.

  Finn breaks the silence by reminding me that the exit is rapidly approaching. As I prepare to switch lanes, my heart races in my chest. Still, I can’t afford to let my emotions get the best of me. April’s safety comes first.

  “We’re almost there,” Finn says grimly.

  I nod in acknowledgment.

  Finn instructs me to turn into a neighborhood, but we’re stopped by a police car blocking the road. I roll the window down when an officer approaches the car.

  “Take your hands off the wheel,” Finn whispers.

  Right, I realize. Manual driving is illegal, after all.

  “My apologies,” the officer says once he’s within hearing distance. “But this area is blocked off.”

  I glance at Finn, whose eyes widen at the same that mine does.

  “Can you tell me…?” I begin to ask where we can find a detour, but I’m quickly cut off.

  “We’re from the Divinity Bureau headquarters,” Finn interjects before I can get another word in. He pulls his work identification card out of his wallet, much to my confusion. Hasn’t it been deactivated by now? But I suppose the officer wouldn’t know that. “We were sent here by Gideon Hearthstrom, as we heard there was an ongoing investigation. Is that he
re?”

  The officer glances between the three of us before his eyes fall on Finn’s identification card. “You guys got here pretty quickly.”

  Finn shrugs, as though our efficiency isn’t something that should be questioned.

  “Well, there was a shootout,” the officer explains. “One person is dead.”

  I think of the implications.

  We’re just a few houses away from where Macy McIntyre was allegedly staying. April went to find her. Did that mean that April was dead? But that can’t be…

  My stomach feels as though it’s been shot by an arrow.

  “No! That can’t be right!” I exclaim. “April…”

  Finn shoots me a warning look, before resuming his conversation with the officer. “What caused the shootout?”

  The officer’s gaze lingers on my expression – no doubt wide in panic. “Are you guys here for the McIntyre girl?”

  Finn nods. “That’s correct.” He shoots me another look of warning, daring me to question him. “I apologize. He’s new to this. He’s – uh – my intern. They both are.”

  Tate is suspiciously quiet, but the officer brushes it off and returns his attention to Finn. “Do you guys want to come to the station? We can give you a full report there.”

  “We’ll more than likely stop by,” says Finn. “But we’d like to investigate the scene first.”

  “Suit yourself,” the officer says, stepping out of the way to allow the three of us to pass through. I’m still staring straight ahead, white-faced, trying not to throw up. Finn has to remind me to press the gas pedal. It doesn’t cross my mind to hide the fact that we’re manually driving from the officer.

  Yellow tape blocks the townhouse. We park the car between two police vehicles and step into the scene. Curious neighbors surround the area, and I can hear whispered rumors over disbelief that April McIntyre had been living a mere few doors away from them. I’m unsure where to go, but Tate and I follow Finn’s lead, who is pushing through the crowd and into the house. When we’re alone, I turn to Finn to ask what’s going on, but Finn corners me before I get the chance.

  “Roman, I’m going to need you to stay calm,” Finn hisses, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that no officers are near.

  “Stay calm?” I gawk, forgetting to lower my voice. “I just found out that my girlfriend might be dead!”

  “Shh!”

  “She’s not dead,” Tate answers. “At least, not that we know of.”

  “Tate’s right,” Finn replies. “We don’t know what happened. For all we know, it could’ve been a bystander.”

  “Or Macy,” Tate chimes in quietly.

  “Oh, that’s just lovely!” I exclaim, letting my hands rise and fall. I’m forced to bring my volume down when I see the stern expressions on Finn and Tate’s faces. “Instead of my girlfriend being dead, it’s just her mother! No big deal!”

  Finn places a hand on my shoulder to steady me. “Roman, you need to stay calm. If anyone finds out that you’re with April, the whole thing is over.”

  I’m not sure if I can stay calm. The weight of the situation is threatening to overtake me and bury me alive. But I can’t deny that Finn’s right. I need to keep myself together if I want us to be alive by the time the week is over.

  I look at Finn, taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart. “Do people run often?”

  Finn closes his eyes. “Yes.”

  “What happens to them?”

  “It’s up to local law enforcement to take them into custody. Once the person is in custody, we have field agents that are responsible for transferring them to the care of the Divinity Bureau.”

  “What happens after that?”

  Finn’s gaze softens. “You know what happens.”

  I nod. It’s a silly question to ask, but a part of me is still in denial. But one glance at the scene around me – from the police tape to the sparsely decorated townhouse to the back door that’s still wide open – and I can’t deny the truth any longer: April McIntyre could be dead by the time the week is over if she didn’t die already.

  “Let’s get out of here,” I say.

  Tate and Finn glance around the room before they nod in agreement. Together, the three of us walk out of the house and prepare to face the uncertainty of the future.

  Our plan is to pose as Divinity Bureau field agents and get the local police to release April to us. Finn has spent an hour going over the basics of what we need to know: the structure, procedures, and jargon. I’m surprised how little I know about my place of work. The most important thing that Finn tells me is that field agents usually work undercover, which is why we don’t arouse any suspicion when we walk into the police in our plain clothes. Unfortunately, we’re an hour too late.

  “It looks like your headquarters made a mistake,” a plump-faced desk sergeant explains. “Two field agents came by and took the McIntyre girl about an hour ago.” My face falls immediately, which leads the woman to eye us conspicuously. “You said you’re from headquarters?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Finn responds immediately.

  “Which McIntyre girl did they take?” I ask, doing my best to keep my desperation under control.

  The desk sergeant raises an eyebrow. “The alive one, obviously. Didn’t they tell you what happened?”

  Finn glances back at me, and he has a glint in his eyes. I recognize that look: it’s the one he makes when he has a new idea.

  “We’re not here for her,” Finn replies curtly. “We’re here to collect the body of the other one.”

  The idea makes me want to throw up. I don’t like the idea of driving with a body in the backseat of Finn’s car, much less the idea of transporting it to an undetermined location. I’m not even sure if it’ll fit! Where will Tate sit? But I know what Finn is doing. If we see the body, we’ll be able to narrow down who is still alive; but what will I do if it’s April’s body lying in the morgue?

  The woman’s dart between the three of us. She eyes me for a while longer, noting how I’m squirming under her scrutinizing gaze Still, she must have dismissed any suspicions, because she calls another officer over to bring us to the morgue.

  “Finn,” I whisper as we make our way down a narrow hallway. The closer we get, the lower the temperature drops.

  Finn steps closer to me, bringing his voice down. “Yeah?”

  I take a deep breath, before I admit, “I don’t think we can fit a body in the car.”

  Finn stifles a laugh – one that’s quickly stopped when we make eye contact with the uniformed officer that’s leading the way. When he finally manages to contain himself, he whispers, “Don’t worry. I was already planning on making up an excuse after we saw who it was.” He pauses, noting my troubled expression. “What are you going to do if it’s April?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit softly. “I’ll be devastated, but I’ll keep it under control. I have to.”

  “And if it’s not?”

  I offer him a half-smile, but I don’t feel it in the rest of my face. “Does it sound wrong if I say that I’ll be relieved?”

  I don’t get the chance to hear Finn’s answer. The officer stops in front of what appears to be our destination: the morgue. “Well, this is it.”

  The statement sounds simple, but it holds so much weight in my mind.

  I push a swinging door open, where I find myself surrounded by gray walls, tools, books, and measuring instruments. A pungent odor fills the air. It smells like a concoction of chemicals and decay. I glance around the room, my eyes falling on a gurney that’s lying in the middle of the room.

  That’s when I see her: Macy McIntyre, helpless and lifeless on the gurney. I’ve never seen her without makeup; and even if I did, I imagine she’d look nothing like this. She’s paler than I’ve ever seen her. Her lips and eyelids are purple. Three holes puncture her chest, but I assume that the one closest to her heart is the one that killed her. Saying that she looks like a ghost would be inaccurate; though to a stranger,
the image in front of me wouldn’t be too far from the truth. But I knew her. She lived. She gave up everything – from a promising career to a chance at happiness with a man that would stay faithful to her – for her daughters. But the thing in front of me doesn’t remind me of a ghost. It reminds me of an abandoned house: memories and hopes to lie to waste, falling apart. Brick by brick.

  I told myself that I wouldn’t break down, but I can feel hot tears coming. Finn quickly recognizes what’s happening and asks the officer to leave the room so that we can discuss “confidential” information. As soon as the three of us are alone, I collapse and cry. Tate joins me, grasping Macy’s hand – cold as ice. I feel ashamed for thinking that seeing Macy’s body would be a relief. Death is never a relief when it comes too soon.

  Minutes pass before I feel a hand on my shoulder. For the first time, I’m grateful for Finn’s presence. I wouldn’t have made it this far without him.

  “Thank you,” I say weakly. My throat is hoarse.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” he replies, pulling Tate and me up. “What should we do about April?”

  “We need to get her out,” I say. There’s no doubt in my mind that it’ll be done. We just need to figure out how we’re going to do that. “Finn, do you still have your work badge?”

  “I do.”

  “Good, we’re going to need it.”

  Tate glances between the two of us, shuffling his feet. “Guys, not to ruin your epic plan, but weren’t those deactivated when you guys got fired?”

  “I can reactivate your badge,” I assure him. “That should be a piece of cake, and I should be able to get us into the Divinity Bureau. The office locks and unlocks using facial recognition software – which I happened to program.” That meant that my face was hardcoded into the system, so it’d still let me in. I turn my attention to Finn. “It’s a good thing you made me fix that stupid door, Finn. You know, the one that gave me hell for six months.”

  Finn laughs. “I knew you’d thank me someday. Granted, I pictured it under different circumstances.” He pauses as another thought comes to him. “That only works for the office, though. The bureau keeps a holding area for runaways in the basement, and that’s got a whole different system.”