“Slave labor,” Andy repeated. She frowned and thought of Maria.
“They’re treated like dogs by the Directors and the Infantry, and everyone over the age of seven has to work.”
“So why do people stay here…people like Danny? He seems smart. Why don’t they try to go out and survive on their own like we’ve done?”
“Some do. A few stay because they doubt anything outside New York would be any better, but most stay because they’re scared and helpless. Most people aren’t like us; you know that. And when you’re so hungry that you feel like you’re digesting your own stomach, you’ll do whatever it takes if someone is giving you food, even if it’s someone like Sean.”
Ben took a bite of beef jerky and offered the remainder to Andy. Starved, she finished the rest of it. Together, they chewed away in silence. He edged closer to the end of the alley and glanced around. The streets were as bustling as earlier.
“You don’t trust these guys?” she asked suddenly after she finished eating.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you told me not to tell them my real name, and then you didn’t tell them which name on that list was supposed to be yours. I assume that means you don’t trust them.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust them. It’s just safer for everyone if they know as little as possible about who we are and what we’re doing here. Sean has tortured people for information, and he’s got spies all over this city just waiting to find people like us. The fact that I’m already at the top of his list of enemies means that I have to be ten times more careful. And so do the people who are close to me.”
“People like me.”
“Exactly. Believe me, you don’t want Sean knowing your real name.”
“All right, so besides getting through checkpoints, what else do we need IDs for if we don’t need food or water or power?”
“To get into nightclubs.”
“Nightclubs?”
“Uh-huh. Sean kept a few of them open, and now they’re wild and crazier than ever. They’re every teenage boy’s dream.”
“Sounds terrific,” she said sarcastically.
“Well, it’s also our ticket to getting the information we need about the virus. The Directors and the Infantry love the nightclubs, and if anyone knows whether Sean’s hidden the virus somewhere, it’s them.”
Ben finished his water and put the empty bottle back in his bag. Andy was still thinking about the nightclubs as she unlocked their bikes.
“So did you randomly pick ‘Katrina’ or did you know someone with that name?” he asked.
“It was my mother’s name. Katrina Wilson. That was her maiden name.”
“Really? How did I not know that already?” He sounded almost disappointed, as if this were something that he should have known about by now.
“Well, I don’t know your mother’s name. What was it?”
“Ingrid. Ingrid Andersen.”
“Andersen…that Danish? My dad’s family was Danish.”
He nodded. “Her family was from Denmark. She was the first one born in the States.”
“And Irish on your father’s side?”
“Yep. You can’t get more Irish than ‘Kelly.’ I think that’s the only reason Danny even bothers to help me,” he said with a grin.
Chuckling, she moved closer to him in order to put the bike locks back inside his bag. She looked up at him and smiled faintly. “I like that name. Ingrid, I mean.”
“Yeah, my mom was cool.” He returned the smile. “You would’ve liked her.”
Even in the darkness of the alley, Andy could still make out his translucent blue eyes. “How did you know everyone’s eye color?” she said, suddenly frowning. “I’ve known Morgan and Charlie for six years, and I couldn’t tell you what color their eyes are.”
Ben shrugged. “I knew we were going to need IDs so I made a mental note of everyone’s eye color and approximate height over the past few days.”
“But your ID will say that you have brown eyes, not blue.”
“Well, that’s what colored contacts are for. I can’t go through checkpoints looking like Ben Kelly. Any guy who’s about my age with my description always gets a second look.”
“You have colored contacts?”
“Yeah, some disposable ones I’ve got stashed away, just in case.”
She shook her head and turned away. “That’s too bad. Your eyes are gorgeous. Be a shame to cover them up.”
Ben was momentarily thrown by this comment. Andy had never acknowledged his looks, not to him at least.
Chapter XXI
Green Haven Correctional Facility was one of the larger prisons in New York. But despite sitting some seventy-five miles north of Manhattan, Sean hadn’t chosen the prison because it was close to the city, but because it sat in a quiet, rural area of the state. It provided the space and secrecy he needed.
There were eight cellblocks in the prison, lettered A through H. A through D were closed cells, while blocks E through H were open cells facing each other in an aviary-like configuration. Each block had two hundred and fifty-two individual cells, of which all were vacant except for the few that were used by the Fixers to sleep in after a long day of work. Cellblock D, however, had undergone extensive renovations.
It was early afternoon by the time Sean reached the prison. He made the drive alone, only informing his closest advisor, Luke, where he was going. He walked by several guards at the entrance, each greeting him a little too eagerly, and headed directly to Cellblock F. When he reached the only occupied cell, he peered inside.
“Wake up,” he barked between the bars to the girl crumpled on the tiny bed in the corner.
The sound of Sean’s voice startled her, and she quickly stirred from her slumber. Wordlessly, she got up and walked to the bars. Having barely eaten for nearly a week, it was a struggle for her to stand, and the fatigue showed on her face. Though more pale than normal with a hint of circles under her eyes, Lily Haines was still a sight to behold. Her stunning beauty had suffered no ill-effects from the difficulties of a post-viral world. She was thin, as most women now were, but Lily still had all the curves that could excite every male from pre-pubescent boys to full-grown men. And yet Sean’s first remark to her was, “You look like crap.”
Lily hugged her arms tightly around her chest to guard against the drafty air. Her long dark hair draped over her folded arms, and her hazel eyes averted Sean’s own piercing blue stare. She remained silent not out of fear but out of defiance.
“Fun being in here, isn’t it?” Sean went on, finally taking his eyes off Lily to look around at the vast and empty space that surrounded them. “All alone and without any Directors to sleep with.”
“I only did it because you’ve been ignoring me for weeks now. How else was I supposed to get your attention?” She stepped within inches of the bars. Anger colored her cheeks as her almond-shaped eyes narrowed on Sean. “I’m sick of you screwing the other girls and then getting jealous if I even talk to another guy. It’s not fair!”
“Life’s not fair. Get used to it,” Sean responded coolly as he stood perfectly erect. “And just for that, I’m leaving you here another day. Someone will drive your skanky-ass back tomorrow.”
Looking as though she was either about to cry or scream, Lily did neither and instead hardened her jaw. Defeated, she turned away and retreated back to her tiny bed. Sean smugly watched her lie back down before leaving. There was one more thing to do.
***
“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Dez said to Ben on Thursday not a minute after he entered the tiny apartment in Chinatown with Andy, Morgan, and Maria. “Where do you find these gorgeous women, and can you tell me so I can go there too?”
The three women laughed lightly. Andy had warned them about Dez’ flirtatiousness.
“It won’t do you any good if I told you. All the pretty ones left with me,” Ben quipped.
“Well, it sure seems that way.” Dez ogled each of
the girls shamelessly.
“Yo, Dez, leave ’em alone,” Danny called out from the kitchen. “They didn’t come here to be harassed.”
“I’m not harassing you, am I?” he asked the girls while wearing a mischievous grin.
“Dez, get outta here,” Danny ordered. “We got work to do.”
With his hands held up in a mocking surrender, Dez inched toward the door. “Fine, Mister Grouchy Pants. I was going to the food bank anyway.” Turning back to the girls, he bowed dramatically before grabbing each girl’s hand to kiss. “Good night, ladies,” he said with exaggerated gallantry before leaving the apartment.
Danny came into the living room where everyone else was seated. “My apologies. There’s just no explaining him.”
“Don’t apologize. He’s funny,” said Morgan smiling.
“I’m glad you think so,” Danny replied.
“What did he mean about a ‘food bank’?” Maria asked.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like…just a place for people to buy food. I think there’s, like, fifteen in Manhattan and about another thirty in the other boroughs. Of course, the lines are a nightmare. Today I waited two goddamned hours, and by the time I got to the front of the line, the only things left to buy were apples and eggs. I eat so many eggs that I feel like I’m gonna sprout feathers or something.”
“What do you buy the food with?” Andy asked as she silently wished they had brought along some extra food for him and his friends.
“Credit. It’s like money. Each person has to work to get credit, and every job has a certain value. Most Fixers, like me, get a thousand credits a month, which is a lot. I usually have extra at the end of each month. Other jobs, like working in the water treatment plants, get less…maybe three or four hundred credits a month.”
“The dirtier the job, the worse the pay?” Morgan commented aloud. “Well that’s nothing new.”
“And let me guess, Sean decided what each job was worth?” asked Andy, her voice tinged with disdain.
“He and the Directors,” Danny replied, nodding toward Ben.
“Wait, you decided what each job was worth?” asked Andy, turning toward him, but he quickly shook his head.
“Not exactly. I had this whole idea where each job would be paid based on whatever the average was for the same type of work before the outbreak. I thought it was fair and made the most sense, but no one listened to me. In the end, Sean decided on his own what everyone would be paid.”
“So why does Sean even bother hearing the Directors’ opinions if he doesn’t listen to them?” Maria asked.
“He wants them to feel like they’re important because he trusts them to manage everything that keeps people fed and the lights on. Like my ol’ man used to say, ‘happy employees are loyal employees,’” Danny said with his colorful accent. “No offense, Ben, but you know that’s true.”
Ben waved away the comment without issue.
“So, about this credit that everyone gets,” Morgan continued. “People get credit every month?”
“Uh-huh, it’s electronically linked to your ID,” Ben said. “So when you go to anywhere that requires credit like food banks and nightclubs, you scan your ID and the ‘cost’ gets deducted from your credit. And then Sean can monitor everywhere you’ve been and everything you’ve bought.”
“Yeah, like ‘Big Brother,’” Danny added as he suddenly pushed himself out of his grungy armchair. “Speaking of IDs, I’ve got all of yours ready. Hang on a sec.”
He disappeared into what was likely a bedroom and returned moments later with a handful of metal bands in one hand, a small electronic-looking box in the other, and a laptop tucked beneath his arm. He sat back down and placed the bands and small box on the rickety coffee table in front of him before firing up the laptop. “So today I was told that Sean wants to add fingerprints to everyone’s ID file.”
Ben frowned at this bit of news. “Why?”
“Dunno. That jerk Doug told me, so you can guess how that went.”
“Oh, man, I forgot how stupid that guy is.”
“Well, he hasn’t gotten any smarter since you’ve been gone. I think I’m just getting better at dealing with his total failure to communicate the simplest instructions.”
“Who’s Doug?” asked Maria.
“He’s the Director of Census and Labor, which just means he’s supposed to make sure everyone is registered with an ID and is assigned a job. But he’s a total idiot who only got the job because Sean wanted to sleep with his sister.” Danny then paused to rub his eyes with one hand. “Most people just ignore him, but he’s a daily headache for me.”
“So why the fingerprints?” Ben asked. “Has there been a spike in people forging or stealing other people’s IDs or something?”
Danny shook his head. “No more than usual. Maybe Sean wants to get rid of the ID bands completely so that people just use their fingerprints, which, I gotta admit, would make sense. There’s more than a million people registered in the five boroughs, and with people losing their IDs all the time, it’s a major pain for people to prove who they are. Fingerprints would solve everything.”
“So you need to scan our prints,” Andy said. “But won’t that completely defeat the purpose of you having an alias?” she asked Ben.
“It shouldn’t,” he replied, sounding certain. “It’s not as if Sean’s got a copy of my prints. And anyway,” he went on as he combed his hand through his hair, “Jim and I burned and deleted all our medical and school records in Virginia last year, which were the only thing that had my fingerprints. We destroyed Karen’s records too. If Sean ever searches for our old records, he’ll find nothing. It’s like we never existed.”
Andy raised her eyebrows as she listened to Ben. She had no idea the measures he and Jim had taken to erase their pasts.
“As long as they’re not asking for a photo ID, I’m not worried,” he concluded.
“That ain’t gonna happen soon,” Danny assured. “With the data rates we gotta work with right now, photo files are too big to transfer from the main server to all the food banks and checkpoints. It would take five friggin’ minutes just to check one person’s identity. No one’s got that kinda patience.”
Not a moment later, the lights throughout the entire apartment began to flicker—once, twice, and after the third time, they went out completely, and the apartment became pitch-black.
“Terrific,” Danny muttered as the others reached into their pockets and backpacks to retrieve flashlights. Maria found hers first and illuminated the room. By the time the others found theirs, the lights flickered back on.
“Does that happen a lot?” Morgan asked.
“All the time,” Danny replied with a sigh as he plugged his laptop into the wall. “And always when I’m about to do something with my computer.”
Everyone waited as Danny hooked up the fingerprint scanner to the computer. Once everything was ready, he looked up.
“So I told Doug that I’d only scan prints for new people who were registering for IDs, but knowing Sean, he’ll demand that everyone else start scanning their fingerprints at checkpoints to get them on record, so better to get yours on record now by me than some Infantry punk.”
“Do you need all ten prints for each person?” Ben asked.
“No, I just need one fingerprint per file. But I can add up to five prints per person.”
“Good. I want you to add one of my prints to three separate names. Can you do that?”
Danny blinked a few times before his face broke out into a smile, making him look almost handsome. “What are you up to, Ben?”
“Only good things, I promise.”
“All right…whatever you want. If anyone ever finds the glitch, which I doubt, I’ll just say I accidentally copied the same print to three different names.”
“Also, I’ll need to add another print, maybe two, to each of the three names, but it will be someone else’s prints.”
Danny looked up and gave Ben the sam
e smile before breaking out into a chuckle. He held up his hands. “Like I said, whatever you want.”
The girls exchanged glances as each silently attempted to decipher Ben’s plan. When Andy figured it out, she wordlessly expressed to the others that Ben, Jim, and Brian would be sharing multiple aliases.
Ben scanned the print of his right index finger first, which Danny copied to the files of the three aliases that he would be using: John Simmons, Michael Wilkins, and Matthew Thompson, all age twenty with brown hair and eyes and a height of six-foot-one. There was no meaning behind the three names; Ben had simply found them in a phonebook a few days earlier. Danny handed him the ID bracelets for all three.
Morgan went next. She scanned two of her fingerprints, which Danny quickly added to the file of her new name, Sarah O’Brian. “A good Irish name,” he said with approval as she bit her lip.
Andy followed Morgan and applied her right thumbprint to Katrina Wilson’s file before being handed her ID. It was similar to a medical ID bracelet except that there was a small black-and-white barcode where the person’s medical condition would normally be inscribed.
“And last but not least, Isabel…” Danny said, looking at Maria, smiling awkwardly at her.
“Torres,” Maria responded, giving her fake last name.
“Right,” Danny muttered as he fumbled through the remaining ID bracelets to find her name. “Here we go.”
She sat beside him as the others had done to scan her prints, but he appeared to be slightly flustered by her presence and made more than a few keystroke errors when updating her file. As she stood to return to her seat on the adjacent sofa, his gaze lingered on her for more than a few seconds, but he quickly caught himself. Only Ben seemed to notice as he suppressed a smile.
Danny then held up the remaining IDs. “I’ve still got three more…Henry, Kathy, and Julia.”
“Here, give ’em to me,” Ben said, holding out his hand. “They can get their prints scanned at the checkpoints.”
Schism Page 20