Lockdown (The Fringe #4)

by Tarah Benner

  “What about —”

  “He was mum on the redacted charge, but Blaze filled me in.” Jarvis’s eyes go dark in a way that makes me think he understands the drifter issue on a deeper level. “There was no hard evidence that you were working with outsiders. A picture that’s more than a decade old proves nothing. And, if truth be told, you fighting that charge would have created a lot of trouble for the board — raised questions they don’t want to answer in a public forum.”

  I’m stunned that all my problems seemed to have melted away over a friendly business lunch, but worry is still eating away at my insides. “What about the guy who was arrested with me? Eli Parker . . .”

  Blaze and Jarvis exchange an uneasy look.

  “I’m afraid that’s a bit beyond my reach,” says Jarvis.

  “I filed a human rights complaint with the board, but I haven’t heard anything about Eli,” Blaze adds. “Sorry.”

  I nod, trying to conceal my disappointment.

  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going,” says Jarvis, shaking my hand once more and offering a regretful smile.

  “Oh, okay. What do I owe you for this?” I ask, hoping against hope that I can actually afford to pay my savior.

  Jarvis glances at Blaze. “It’s already been taken care of.”

  “Oh. Th-thank you.”

  Jarvis gives me another half smile and boards the megalift. As soon as he’s gone, I round on Blaze. “You can’t,” I say. “It’s too much. Let me pay you back.”

  Blaze waves me off and punches the button to grab the next lift. “Relax. Jarvis is the family lawyer. Shane keeps him on retainer.”

  “What?” I stop dead in my tracks.

  Blaze turns to face me, too smart not to understand what the problem is.

  I let out a frustrated sigh. “Listen. I appreciate all your help. Really. I’ll never be able to thank you enough. But bringing in your dad’s lawyer when I’m already in his debt . . . not to mention the fact that I incriminated him during my testimony . . .”

  Blaze waves away my concern. “Shane doesn’t even know what Jarvis does half the time. He just handles things to keep Shane in good standing with the law. Trust me. He won’t even know.”

  “What about Jarvis?”

  “I told him you were one of my dad’s informants. He’s good about not asking questions.”

  But using Shane’s resources after I made him my scapegoat doesn’t feel right.

  “Don’t worry,” says Blaze, reaching out and squeezing my arm. “I can handle Shane.”

  “Okay,” I murmur, leaning against the wall to steady myself. I’m overwhelmed by everything that’s happened in the last few days, and I still don’t have a solid plan for getting Eli out of Constance.

  “Are you coming to training this morning?” Blaze asks. “I don’t think anyone would blame you if you took a day to recover . . .”

  I sigh. “No. I’m going. I need a distraction.”

  In truth, I need a way to get close to Jayden, but I don’t tell Blaze that.

  “I need to make a quick stop first . . . and take a shower.”

  Blaze nods. We board the lift, and I punch the button for the medical ward.

  “I’m sorry about what I said before,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean it.”

  A slight flush creeps up the back of my neck. “Yes, you did,” I say. “And I needed to hear it. I was acting weak.”

  Blaze shakes his head. “You’re a lot of things, Harper, but ‘weak’ isn’t one of them. You’ve been through a lot lately. Sometimes you just need a little help.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And I want you to know . . . I’m always on your side.”

  That statement catches me off guard, and I look up to see him staring at me with those intense eyes of his. They’re bright with respect and admiration, but there’s something else there, too: Concern? Sorrow? Fear?

  “Thanks.”

  “Just prepare yourself for training, okay? Things are going to be . . . different for you.”

  I get the feeling that he’s warning me about something — something to do with Recon — but I don’t have time to ask questions. The megalift dings, and the doors slide open to reveal the clean and bright medical ward buzzing with people.

  I disembark and watch Blaze disappear behind the silver doors. Then I turn my attention to the swarm of news-feed reporters clamoring to get the attention of the nurses behind the front desk. They must not be allowed near patient rooms, but they’re flashing their interfaces down the tunnel, trying to get a shot of a doctor.

  I push my way through the cluster of reporters and make eye contact with a harried-looking nurse with a young face and a wispy ponytail.

  “Excuse me . . .”

  “Name?”

  “Harper Riley.”

  The nurse types it in to verify my identity, and her gaze lingers on my black eye.

  “Is this an emergency visit?”

  “I’m not a patient.”

  “We’ve put a temporary freeze on visitors to protect patients’ privacy,” says the nurse. “But you can return tomorrow to see if the freeze has lifted.”

  “I’m not visiting a patient. I’m here to see Sawyer Lyang. She’s an intern.”

  “I’m sorry. Medical-ward personnel are not allowed visitors at this time.”

  Feeling desperate, I lean forward and lower my voice. “Please. Can you just page her to come out here for a second? She’ll want to see me.”

  The nurse glances around the waiting area, as though she’s searching for her superiors in the crowd. “I can’t,” she murmurs, not making eye contact with me. “But I know who Sawyer is. I’ll tell her you came by.”

  “Thank you. It’s important.”

  The nurse seems so committed and earnest I don’t have any doubts that she’ll make good on her promise.

  I’m intrigued by the horde of reporters, and I want to check my interface to see what they’re posting to the feeds. The news has to be related to the AWOL Recon operatives, but I don’t have any way to know whether or not they contracted the virus.

  Frustrated, I ride the megalift down to Recon to shower off the cage stink before training.

  The stale, damp air of my compartment is a welcome smell after the suffocating stench of Control. I’ve also acquired a new appreciation for the four walls around my toilet, my bed, and my laundry-fresh sheets.

  I run the shower cycle on repeat five times to make up for the water allowance I wasted in my absence. As the water drains out of the base, I can almost see the dirt and despair washing down with it.

  When I’m finished, I take my time combing out my hair and donning a fresh uniform. I had an unnatural hatred for the nondescript gray fatigues when I was first placed in Recon, but after wearing that horrible jumpsuit for three days straight, a fresh outfit seems like a luxury. I button the overshirt slowly and run my finger over the Recon hawk embroidered over my heart.

  As much as I hate the Fringe, being in the cages made me long for the freedom of the open desert. My time outside the compound was marred by the debilitating fear of bullets and land mines, but being able to stand up, walk, feel the sun on my back, and talk to Eli were all privileges I took for granted.

  Eli. The fleeting image of him glancing down at me on the Fringe makes my heart ache. The idea that I may never see him again is too horrible to consider.

  Anxious for something to take my mind off Eli’s suffering, I pull my hair into a ponytail and head to the training center. It’s nearly oh-eight hundred, and the place is already full of people. I scan the crowd for Lenny’s bright-red curls, but then I remember she’s probably still recovering from her gunshot wound.

  Fortunately, Bear’s bulky frame is easy to spot. He’s lost a lot of weight since Bid Day, but he’s still built like a linebacker. He’s standing in the corner talking to Blaze and Kindra, which sends a surge of warmth through my chest.

  Bear says something to Blaze, who lifts his head
and waves me over. That uneasy look is back in his eyes, but I ignore it and make a beeline for my squad.

  I pass another cluster of cadets, and their casual chatter makes a discernible shift to hostile whispers. I catch a few disdainful glances, but I brush them off without much trouble.

  Then I pass another group, and one hateful voice follows me for several feet: “That’s her.”

  Feeling agitated, I quicken my pace.

  I’m about halfway across the training center when I find my path blocked by an enormous pair of boots. I follow two tree trunk–sized legs up to a thick torso and a face that’s glowering down at me. The guy looks oddly familiar, but I’ve never actually spoken to him.

  “What are you doing here, Riley?”

  I don’t know this guy’s name, but the lack of patches on his uniform indicate that he’s a cadet like me.

  “I’m here for training,” I say, feeling annoyed that I’m being hassled by someone of equal rank.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” he says in a voice that’s meant to be threatening.

  He’s playing the part well: His hair is shorn very close to his head, and he’s got a square jaw that’s perfect for a hard-ass Recon officer. But there’s something about his stance that tells me he’s all bark and no bite. He might be the de facto leader of his squad, but he knows he’s just a cadet like me.

  “And why is that, dipshit?”

  He crosses his arms over his chest. “Traitors don’t belong here. Neither do criminals, for that matter.”

  “Good thing I’m neither one of those things,” I say, feigning a smile. “Unless whooping your ass in field tests is a crime.”

  There’s a low hiss of disapproval from his squad. Throwing down that challenge was a long shot. I have no idea what he scored on his field tests, but I do know that I was the first recruit to pass.

  “You’re awful ballsy for someone who’s not wanted here.”

  “You’re awful ballsy for someone with no balls.”

  This time, there’s an audible rumble of hostility from the crowd.

  “You’re unbelievable,” he murmurs in a low voice. “You think we don’t know what you are? You think we don’t know what you’ve done to endanger the compound?”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” I snap.

  Before I can finish my thought, I feel a hand on my arm. I jump, but it’s only Blaze. He shoots me a look that says “calm the fuck down,” but then he turns an intimidating glare on the asshole blocking my path.

  “You should keep moving,” he says.

  Blaze isn’t as jacked as this guy, but he’s just as tall and a lot more skilled.

  “No,” says the asshole. “She needs to know that we aren’t going to let her get away with this.”

  “Get away with what?” I snarl.

  He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “I’ve been out on the Fringe three times risking my neck for this compound. How many times have you been deployed, huh? How many drifter bullets have you dodged? Have you been blown up out there? ’Cause I have.”

  “Harper . . .” Blaze murmurs, wrapping his hand around my arm as though he thinks I might pounce on this guy.

  I can tell I’ve thrown my aggressor a little off balance, but he’s still got the support of the mob.

  “Oh please,” he says, rolling his eyes. “How can any of us believe what you or Parker have to say? You’re a couple of frauds. Either he’s still in the cages, or he’s too much of a coward to show his face around here.”

  That does it. Dragging Eli into this escalated the argument from a verbal sparring match to a physical one.

  I lunge forward — fast enough to break Blaze’s hold on my arm — and shove the asshole in the chest.

  “You wanna go?” I yell, pushing him again so he stumbles back. “Let’s go! You talk big game for someone who’s never even been out on the Fringe. Let’s see what you’ve got!”

  “Harper!” Blaze makes a grab for me, but I push him back.

  “I’m not gonna fight a girl,” says the asshole. But he looks surprised and shaken by my aggression. I’m sure the black eye has something to do with it.

  “Everything all right here?” asks a stern voice behind me.

  I turn around and see Miles appear over Blaze’s shoulder. The asshole blanches. Miles’s six and a half feet of muscle are definitely enough to make him shut up, but he’s still looking at me as though he wants to toss me out of the training center.

  “No,” he says finally. “Everything’s not all right.”

  Miles raises an eyebrow.

  “I don’t know why we’re letting a traitor back into training. She’s a threat to compound security, and she’s going to get us all killed.”

  “The charges against Riley were dropped,” says Miles. “She’s still one of us. If you have a problem, you can take it up with me or your commanding officer.”

  Miles’s deep voice is calm and even, but the way he’s looking at this guy would be enough to send me running.

  My challenger stares at Miles for a few more seconds. Then he lets out a frustrated breath and steps away.

  My blood is still boiling, but I force myself to relax my fight face.

  “Riley,” says Miles, jerking his head for me to follow. He sends a few menacing glares at the watching cadets, and Blaze and I fall into step beside him.

  “What was that?”

  “He got in my face,” I say, feeling defensive. “He called me a traitor . . . Eli, too.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” says Miles. “You can’t go picking fights with people . . . not now. Jayden is just looking for a reason to put you back in the cages. You have to be a model citizen from here on out.”

  I can feel the other cadets’ glares burning a hole in my back. They all believe I’m a traitor, which makes my blood boil with rage.

  But Miles is right. I can’t afford to get into trouble — at least not in front of all these witnesses.

  “Have you heard anything about Eli?” I ask, anxious to change the subject.

  “I thought he was in the cages with you.”

  I shake my head. “Constance has him.”

  Miles stops in his tracks. He looks as though he’s about to be sick. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. But I don’t know where they’re holding him or how to get to him. I don’t know what to do.”

  “There’s nothing you can do.”

  “I can’t just leave him there!” I snap. “He wouldn’t stop trying if it were me.”

  “That’s because Eli acts like a dumb-ass when he gets emotional. But you have to be smart. You have enough to worry about just watching your back around here. There’s nothing you can do for him right now.”

  “How can you say that?” I ask, angry that Miles would give up on his best friend so easily.

  “Because I’ve been sitting on the sidelines watching you two get your asses handed to you for the past five months. What good has fighting Constance done? Huh?”

  I fall silent. I can’t argue with that. Eli and I have been fighting a losing battle ever since I started poking into the truth.

  “That’s what I thought,” Miles mutters.

  Our squad is subdued as Seamus comes over to prep us for the day. Because Jayden has deployed so many people, another officer’s squad is joining forces with ours.

  As Seamus rattles off the morning workout, I hear a few disparaging remarks behind my back. Bear and Kindra throw me sympathetic looks, but after I walked away from the first guy, all the cadets think they’re safe to say whatever they want without retaliation.

  The day drags by unbelievably slowly. By sixteen-thirty, I’m counting down the minutes until I can leave the training center and get away from these assholes.

  Our combined squad is running through a drill where we have to fight our way through a line of cadets, and I’ve been “accidentally” tripped three times so far. My self-control is wearing thin, and one more face-plant on the mat is going to s
end me over the edge.

  The other squad never has a chance.

  Ten minutes before we’re dismissed, Jayden breezes into the training center. My blood goes cold.

  She quietly dismisses the other squads, and I get a bad feeling as she approaches our little group.

  “Michaels, Crawford, Hart, Doltan, Rickford, Adams, Riley . . . you can leave.”

  The other cadets salute Jayden and depart, scowling at me as they pass. Bear and Kindra are the only ones Jayden didn’t dismiss, but I don’t move, and neither does Blaze.

  “At ease,” Jayden barks, rolling her eyes at our show of solidarity. “I dismissed the other cadets because I’m afraid I have some disturbing news.”

  I brace myself for some bullshit story about Eli being a traitor, though I can’t think why she’d dismiss the other squads to deliver that lie.

  “As some of you may know, a few operatives who went AWOL recently returned to the compound. They were two very skilled privates who went out on routine missions, and they were captured and detained by drifters.”

  Jayden’s gaze lingers on me, as though she’s daring me to call bullshit on her story.

  “Thankfully, they managed to escape and return to us in one piece. But their harrowing stories of their time in the drifters’ prison camp are absolutely horrific. They were able to provide some useful information on the drifters’ whereabouts, but we need to act quickly to maintain our advantage.

  “Recently, we’ve lost a lot of good operatives, which means a constant perimeter patrol is a luxury we can no longer afford.”

  I glance at Bear and Kindra and cringe. They were the ones assigned to patrolling the perimeter. If Jayden is pulling them off guard duty, it must mean she plans on deploying them.

  “Kelso . . . Hicks . . . it’s time for your first mission,” snaps Jayden. “Since you’re still completing your training, you’ll be deployed under the supervision of Private Kipling and Private Bailey. You’ll report to my office for your briefings tomorrow at eighteen hundred.”

  Bear’s ruddy face has gone stark white, and Kindra suddenly looks smaller and paler than usual.

  All the anger and fear and helplessness I’ve been feeling for the past week reaches a crescendo. All my limbs are on fire.