Lockdown (The Fringe #4)

by Tarah Benner

  By the time I emerge from my haze of shock, Jayden is already halfway across the training center, striding toward the door on her way to dinner.

  It’s all business to her: the deployments, the arrests, the torture, the deaths. Lenny is lying in bed right now waiting for her internal organs to heal, thanks to Jayden, and Eli is probably suffering in a cell somewhere in Information.

  Before I have time to formulate a real plan, I’m jogging across the training center to catch up. Behind me, I hear a warning from Blaze, but I don’t listen.

  I follow Jayden at a distance until she reaches the megalift. A dozen or so Recon and ExCon workers are crowding in on their way to dinner, so she doesn’t say a word as I squeeze into the corner.

  My heart is pounding in my throat. Jayden is my one link to Eli, and she’s standing less than three feet in front of me. The lift dings when it reaches the ground level, and the other workers shuffle out toward the canteen — everyone except for Jayden.

  “Getting out, Riley?” she croons in her most acidic voice. “I imagine you’d do just about anything for a decent meal after your stint in the cages.”

  “No,” I growl, hitting a button on the control panel. The lift doors slide closed, and the lift starts its ascent again. I punch the button for Information and turn my gaze to Jayden.

  “I know you’re holding Eli in Constance. And you’re gonna take me to him.”

  Jayden smirks. “You’re mistaken, Riley. Parker’s fate is out of my hands.”

  “You’re lying,” I snarl, taking a step toward Jayden and drawing myself up to my full height. “I know he’s in Constance.”

  Jayden bats her long dark eyelashes and smiles innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  That does it. The tenuous grip I had on my self-control slips, and all logical thought flies out of my head.

  Before I have time to consider the consequences, I reach out and grab Jayden’s throat. Smashing her windpipe between my thumb and index finger, I shove her into the side of the lift and hold her there with both hands.

  “Tell me where he is!” I yell.

  Jayden makes a nasty choking noise and fumbles to pry my fingers away from her throat, but I’m taller and stronger. Her eyes bug out as her face turns red, and I focus on my breathing to get my brain working again.

  “I know you have him,” I say. “And if you don’t take me to him right now, I’m going to tell everyone what your real job is.”

  Jayden doesn’t cower. Instead, her wolflike eyes narrow into slits, and I know instantly that I’ve pushed her too far.

  In one sharp motion, she swings her arm out and punches me in the face. It connects with my already swollen nose, and she uses my moment of pain to wriggle out of my choke and bring the blade of her forearm down into my neck. She hits a pressure point, and I stagger back in agony.

  Jayden doesn’t stop, and it belatedly occurs to me that she’s had years of martial arts training, whereas I’ve only had a few months. I’m unprepared for her next string of moves.

  She kicks me just above the kneecap, and my left leg starts to crumple. She takes the opportunity to sweep my right leg out from under me and deliver a swift kick to my bruised ribs.

  I let out a guttural yell and aim a kick at her leg. That was a mistake.

  Jayden grabs hold of my ankle and whips me across the slick floor — right into the side of the megalift. My shoulder slams into the wall, and I nearly chip my own teeth gnashing my back molars together in pain.

  The lift is still moving, but Jayden reaches out and tugs the emergency lever so it comes to a halt. She puts a boot on my chest and leans forward so all her weight shifts to my ribs.

  “Well, well, well. I can’t say I wasn’t expecting some poorly planned maneuver like that, but I always thought it would be Parker who tried to choke me to death.” She lets out a breathy little laugh. “I never thought you’d be so damned stupid.”

  I glare up at her, too stunned to fight back.

  “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that assaulting an officer is grounds for dismissal . . . arrest, even.”

  “You do anything to me, and I tell the world all about Constance,” I choke.

  Jayden is working to keep her cunning smile firmly in place, but I can tell she thinks I might just be crazy enough to out her.

  “Perhaps the unfortunate incident in the Dead Level gave you an overinflated sense of self-importance, Riley . . . or maybe arrogance is just a side effect of sleeping with your commanding officer. But let me make one thing abundantly clear: You do not call the shots around here. I do.”

  I glare up at her.

  “Oh, you think that’s a joke? You think you can take me on just because you managed to weasel your way out of the cages?” She scowls. “Make no mistake: I own you, Riley. If I wanted you dead, you would be dead. You went to the cages instead of getting the treatment Parker is experiencing because I allowed it.”

  I swallow down the bile burning in my throat and dig my nails into my palms.

  Jayden lowers her voice to a whisper and cracks a condescending smile. “If I were you, I’d count my blessings.”

  “Where is he?” I repeat. “You can do whatever you want with me . . . just let Eli go.”

  Jayden shakes her head slowly, unable to contain the smug gleam in her eyes. “As much as I like to hear you beg, I couldn’t grant your request even if I wanted to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Parker has been relocated to Control . . . about to undergo a closed trial.”

  I open my mouth, but no words come out this time. I’m too shocked and confused to speak.

  Jayden seems to take my speechlessness as a sign that I’m not going to attack her again, so she removes her foot from my sternum and punches the emergency lever to make the lift move again.

  “If you have any favors left in this compound, I’d call them in now. Parker will be executed within a month.”

  eleven

  Harper

  Jayden’s conniving smile swims in and out of focus as her words crash over me. One minute, she’s staring down at me with a face that’s stretched and distorted in loathing. The next, I’m all alone in the megalift.

  Jayden must have disembarked in Information, and the lift is heading back down. It stops almost immediately on one of the Health and Rehab levels.

  When the doors fly open, I find myself staring up at a handful of very confused nurses and interns. I’m too stunned and devastated to care what they must be thinking about my bloody nose and prone position.

  Before I can get to my feet, I hear my name from the cluster of red scrubs. “Harper!”

  I look up in time to see a flash of black hair and glasses, and then Sawyer’s concerned face appears between two nurses’ shoulders.

  As soon as she spots me, she dives into the lift to help me to my feet.

  “God, Harper. What the hell happened?”

  “Jayden,” I breathe.

  “She attacked you?” Sawyer whispers, throwing furtive glances at the other Health and Rehab workers.

  “Not exactly.”

  “You attacked her?” she snaps. “Are you crazy?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Listen,” she murmurs. “I have to tell you something.”

  “Not here.”

  Sawyer looks as though she can barely contain herself, but she waits until the others disembark. When the megalift lets us out at Recon, she opens her mouth again, but I shake my head and lead her to the emergency stairwell. The pounding of the bass from Neverland is emanating from down below — loud enough to keep us from being overheard.

  “Go ahead.”

  Sawyer drags in a deep breath. “This morning I was looking for my supervisor Watson, and I . . . I saw something I shouldn’t have.”

  She glances around again, even though we’re alone in the stairwell. “Constance has Eli. They’re torturing him. We have to find a way to get in there.”

  “He�
�s not with Constance anymore,” I whisper.

  “What?”

  I shake my head, trying to hold in my tears. A few leak out of my eyes, and I can’t take it anymore. An embarrassing sob rolls up my chest and escapes through my throat. It comes out as a stifled cry that echoes off the concrete.

  “I j-just confronted J-Jayden,” I blubber. “I threatened her so she’d take me to him, and she told me he’s in Control. They’re going to try him for treason.”

  “Shit.”

  Another heavy, choking sob racks my body, and I lean against the railing to try to hold myself together. “Th-they’re g-going to execute him, Sawyer. Jayden says he only has a m-m-month.”

  Sawyer’s mouth falls open, and she pulls me into her chest. I want to resist, but instead I wrap my arms around her shoulders and let myself cry.

  I need it. I’ve never felt more helpless and alone. And having her here with me — even if she can’t do anything — is the only thing keeping me sane.

  “You should go see him,” she murmurs. “While you can.”

  I shake my head. “Traitors don’t get visitors, Sawyer.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. I have one idea, but it’s not a great one. “I’m going to see Shane.”

  “What?”

  “His lawyer Jarvis is the best criminal defense attorney in the compound. He’s the one who got me off.”

  “And you think he’ll defend Eli?”

  I shrug. “It’s worth a shot. When I asked him this morning, he said he couldn’t help Eli . . . But that was when Constance had him. Now Eli’s in the system, so . . .”

  “So why don’t you go to Jarvis directly?”

  “I can’t afford to hire him.”

  “Well you can’t go to Shane,” says Sawyer. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Do you have another idea?” I ask. “Because if you do, I’d love to hear it.”

  Sawyer lets out a breath of frustration. “Have you forgotten that Jayden hired Shane to kill you?”

  “No. But Eli wouldn’t give up on me if I was facing the death penalty. And I’m not going to give up on him.”

  She stares at me for a second and then nods. “Okay. But I’m going with you.”

  “No.”

  “I’m not letting you go by yourself, Harper. So if you’re going, I’m going, too.”

  I don’t bother arguing with her. Sawyer has her arms crossed over her chest and that stubborn glint in her eyes. She isn’t going to budge, so I nod and lead the way down the stairs to Neverland.

  As soon as I throw open the metal door, I’m hit by a tidal wave of sound. The heavy bass is blasting from the speakers around the dance floor, making my skin hum.

  A flashing rainbow of pink-and-orange light whips across the old Underground tunnel, and the mass of undulating bodies swims into view. It’s surprisingly crowded for this early at night. Strangers are grinding against strangers in the dark, and the music is loud enough to make the cement walls vibrate.

  Little beads of sweat spring up all over my forehead, but I push through the crowd with purpose. Sawyer follows right behind me, jutting out her elbows to break through the ring of dancers along the edge of the mob.

  To our left is a rickety metal staircase leading up to the old conductor’s office that Shane has transformed into a VIP lounge. We aren’t even halfway up when I find our path blocked by a thick, meaty chest.

  I follow the enormous torso up to a pair of wide shoulders, two jacked biceps, and a thick bald head. Shane’s bodyguard Hector has small deep-set eyes and thick eyebrows that could use a good trim.

  “What do you want?” he asks.

  “I have business with Shane,” I say, raising my voice to sound bolder than I feel.

  “Shane doesn’t have any more business matters to deal with today. Come back tomorrow.”

  “I think he’ll want to hear this,” I snap. “It has to do with his shipments coming in and out of 116. He and I had a deal.”

  Hector’s face betrays no emotion, but I know instantly that I’ve said the magic words. He gives me a curt nod and turns to lead us up to the top of the stairs. He cracks the door, murmurs something to the people inside, and then opens it wide enough for Sawyer and me to pass.

  When we walk inside, Shane is sitting on the high-backed leather bench across from a dark-skinned man I don’t recognize. They look as though they were entrenched in a deep discussion.

  A strange look flits across Shane’s weathered face when he sees me: anger mixed with inspiration. It’s such a peculiar expression that it roots me to the spot.

  The man across from Shane seems to realize his time is up. He gets to his feet and holds out a hand for Shane to shake, glances at me and Sawyer once more, and then carves a path around Hector’s enormous frame.

  “Well, look who it is . . .” says Shane in a slow voice, sidling over to us. “Harper Riley and . . . friend.”

  “Sawyer Lyang,” growls Sawyer. She’s glaring up at Shane with a challenging look in her eyes, but I can read the fear behind her bravado.

  Shane lets out a low chuckle that shows the silver in his teeth. “What a pleasure to meet you, Miss Lyang.”

  “Wish I could say the same.”

  “Weh-hell,” says Shane, taking a step toward us. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  I swallow to wet my parched throat. “I have some information for you,” I say, fighting to keep my voice steady under Shane’s probing gaze.

  Shane turns his back on us to make himself a drink, and I get a full view of his weird purplish-black mullet. “Do you, now?”

  Shane chuckles as he stirs his drink. “And here I was thinking you forgot about our little bargain.” He shakes his head. “That made me very upset, Miss Riley. But I’m glad to see you have not reneged on our deal.”

  Sawyer throws me an uneasy look, and Shane turns to pace around the delicate glass table. With every step, the spurs on his ostrich-skin boots make a loud clink, and the sound quickly starts to grate on my nerves.

  “Nope,” I say. “I would have come sooner, except . . . I was in the cages. I’m sure one of your people up there can confirm that.”

  “Ah, yes,” says Shane, a vein of anger piercing his smug façade. “You were arrested, weren’t you?”

  He stops pacing and looks at me dead-on. His expression is so cold and all-knowing that it freezes me in place.

  “I heard about your little conversation with Natasha Mayweather,” he spits.

  I don’t say anything. I just brace for the worst.

  “Vile woman,” Shane adds.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling my body deflate. “I wasn’t thinking when I accused you of smuggling illegal contraband into the compound. Do whatever you need to do for retribution. I’m not going to fight you.”

  To my immense surprise, a flicker of amusement shoots across Shane’s dark expression. Then he laughs — actually laughs.

  “Oh, Miss Riley . . . I’ve been accused of much worse. Believe me.” He chuckles again, as if he has a really fantastic joke for me. “And I was smuggling illegal contraband into the compound.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s no secret to any of those hypocritical tier-one thugs that this compound could not function without my operations. No offense,” he adds, glancing down at Sawyer.

  She shrugs.

  “I don’t expect loyalty,” he continues. “I’m not naïve. I think you’ll find that a refreshing reality of doing business together: I don’t expect anything from you except what I already have coming to me.”

  Shane falls silent, and I’m so stunned that it takes me several seconds to realize he isn’t going to kill me. Shane wants that information about 116 so badly that he’s willing to let bygones be bygones.

  I didn’t expect that.

  “Right,” I stammer, trying to collect my thoughts. “Well, I don’t know what’s going on at 116, but I know why nothing is going in or o
ut.”

  I take a deep breath, preparing for Shane’s splutter of indignation. There’s no way he’s going to believe me, but there’s nothing I can do about that.

  “The Operations workers who make the supply runs have been diverting all their resources to 119.”

  “Why would they do that?” asks Shane. “One-nineteen has a lot of things we need, but there are plenty of compounds in the area that we have stronger trade relationships with.”

  “They’re not trading with 119,” I say. “They’re looting it.”

  Shane is staring at me intently, and I feel Hector’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my neck.

  “Everyone at 119 is dead.”

  To my surprise, Shane doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t dismiss my claim or tell me I’m crazy or order Hector to drag me to the Dead Level to finish what he started. He keeps his eyes trained on mine. “How?”

  “A virus,” says Sawyer. “A virus stolen from a compound in Colorado and introduced to 119 by the drifters.”

  Shane raises his chin, looking from me to Sawyer with a calculating expression. I can tell he believes us, but he’s wondering how he can use this information to his advantage.

  “And how do you know this?” he asks.

  “I can’t say.”

  Shane lets out a short, cruel laugh. “Well, that’s convenient. You offer me information to settle your debt, but I have nothing to go on except your word? I’m sorry, girly, but that’s just not how grown men do business.”

  I grit my teeth and let out a huff of air. I’m about to throw down all my cards, and it could either salvage my story or destroy his confidence in me completely. “I’ve been there.”

  Shane stares at me for a long moment. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

  I open my mouth, feeling lost. I’d been hoping to use the files Celdon stole from 119 to bargain for help with Eli, but clearly that isn’t an option.

  “I have proof,” I whisper.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sawyer’s hair whip around as she looks at me. I don’t meet her gaze, but I can tell she thinks giving Shane the files from 119 is a terrible idea. I don’t disagree, but I don’t really have another choice.