Tracker220

by Jamie Krakover

  “A recon mission is too risky,” I said. “I don’t think you should go.” After everyone I’d lost, I couldn’t lose him too.

  “Why not? We need to understand what we’re up against.”

  “We already know the authorities have infinite resources. If we aren’t holding on to every asset we have, then how can we expect to win?”

  “Because a recon mission will give us something we need: information. Plus, we have your tracker now.” Bailen glanced at Peyton, like there was still a secret between them. “We’ve been doing this a long time. We won’t know what we’re up against until we face it.”

  Peyton moved toward us and put her arm on my shoulder. I shot her a pleading expression.

  “You’re wasting that look on the wrong twin. I don’t do puppy-dog guilt,” she said. “Besides, Bailen is right. If this next upgrade is really going to lock us out, we need to fully understand it so we can use whatever information is buried on your tracker first. Beat the authorities at their own game for once.”

  I whirled around and headed for the exit. After a few steps, Bailen caught up to me. He spun me around and pulled me into a hug. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back soon.”

  For the first time, I pushed him away and walked off without looking back.

  Twenty-Seven

  I trudged through the corridors in the direction of my room. When I reached the small cavern I’d awoken in, I yanked the curtain across the makeshift doorway and collapsed onto the bed. My body ached as waves of questions invaded my mind.

  While getting a leg-up on the authorities’ plans seemed like a good idea, it was likely to backfire. There was so much against us—time, resources, knowledge. And Bailen’s energy would be much better spent here. I needed him. He was the puzzle king, not me.

  No, what I really needed was Dad to explain everything. It was the only way I’d get answers. I couldn’t believe he’d kept so much from me. Or maybe he hadn’t.

  Moments from my life whirled past me. Little things Dad had said and done stuck out in my mind. One night when I’d been in junior high, he’d caught me messaging Lydia on the network. He’d asked me why I hadn’t gone over there. I’d told him why bother when I could message her? His response “How would you talk to Lydia is you didn’t have a tracker?” I would shrug and say “I’d go over there” but secretly wonder why it mattered. Because I did have a tracker.

  Then there was every Shabbat when he’d begged us to reduce our trackers to minimum function. He’d say the same thing every time. “Just because you have the technology doesn’t mean you should always use it. Don’t become dependent. One day, it might not be there.”

  It was a phrase he’d repeated often. It had always seemed like a parental nag, him forcing his beliefs on me. I’d never known why he’d kept saying it—until now.

  In his own cryptic way, he’d already told me the truth. The message had been ingrained into my memory on purpose. He’d been preparing me my whole life, protecting me from the authorities when my tracker malfunctioned. He’d known what had been coming. As Bailen suspected, he must have arranged the whole thing.

  He was giving me what he thought I always deserved, the kind of life he’d grown up with.

  Understanding the situation didn’t calm my nerves, though. Now that the moment had arrived, I was surrounded by confusion and uncertainty. I twisted the blanket around my fingers so tightly, they turned white. I wasn’t prepared.

  And all I had was a tiny sliver of a clue—a useless one at that.

  What kind of message was “You hold the key?” That didn’t tell me anything.

  I needed to clear my head. I got up and searched the floor for a rock. I found one and ran my fingers over the smooth surface, stopping on the single rough edge. That would work perfectly. I pressed it against the cave wall and swung my arm out in a large arc, blocking out a space to draw in. My hand made short, abrupt movements, but with each stroke, the cloud in my mind thinned.

  As the fog dissipated, I focused on the message. You hold the key. Nothing. I focused on each word separately. You obviously referred to me. That part was simple. Hold could be any number of things. I carried it. Literally or something else?

  I supported it? No, that didn’t seem right.

  Maybe I had it? But where?

  My thoughts blurred together.

  I stepped away from the wall, focusing on the crazed art I’d produced. Lots of choppy lines. No pattern to them, just sharp, random lines. I moved closer and continued drawing, slowing my breaths and allowing the lines to take on a smoother, more fluid path.

  I went back to analyzing the message. The word hold hadn’t gotten me anywhere, but maybe key would. There was something about it that bothered me. Just like the message from Dad. That word was how to unravel it. I was sure of it.

  K-E-Y. Those three letters meant nothing. They didn’t stand for anything. Maybe the word was, well, the key.

  Key, key, key. They turn, they unlock doors and secrets. But maybe I’d oversimplified things. It was Dad’s message, after all. Was it something more abstract? Piano keys, or an old computer keyboard? Was it even a physical key? How many kinds of keys were there?

  Dad had always liked metaphors and riddles. Did he mean I was the lynchpin to it all? Well, that much was obvious, but clearly, there was more to the puzzle.

  What I’d give to get on the network right now and comb through some searches. Dad would be so disappointed, though. I could hear his reprimand in my head. “Kaya, you’re smart,” he’d say. “You don’t need the network. People are too dependent on it. They should have built trackers with an off switch.”

  I’d always thought he’d wanted it for Shabbat, but it hadn’t just been that. It had been so much more, his beliefs, his life, and that of so many others. Deep down, I’d known he’d been right. There were times when all the tracker functions had more than overwhelmed me.

  But I’d never wanted to fully shut off my tracker, even if it had been an option. It held a sense of security for me. What if it never came back on? But even though the idea of an off switch had once been a silly thought, I now understood why there wasn’t one. Because the authorities wanted control over every minute of people’s lives. The convenience of trackers just masked the truth; a tracker was a heavily monitored prison and the authorities were the bars.

  Think, Kaya, think. Stop wasting time you don’t have.

  But there was something in Dad’s words that kept nagging at me. He’d always said the same thing over and over again, as if he’d been trying to burn it into my skull. I went over the words in my head numerous times. In the repetition, something clicked. I knew what I needed to do, and Dad had given me the answer all along.

  Twenty-Eight

  I dropped the rock and bolted to the computer room but found it empty. I plopped into Bailen’s chair and studied TROGS. A small number of dots remained on the map. We were losing the fight. I wished I knew which one was Bailen’s. Some sign to tell me he was okay. Not that it would tell me where he actually was.

  In an attempt to distract myself, I focused on the data analysis, allowing the shifting graphs to hypnotize me. The lines blurred together, fuzzing and mixing into a strange blob.

  A soft touch on my shoulder made me jump. I whipped around with my arms raised, ready for a fight.

  Bailen grabbed both my wrists with one hand. “Whoa! Easy, killer. It’s just me.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “Can I have my hands back? I promise not to slug you.” I put on my best innocent face.

  “How do I know I can trust you?” A sly grin played on his lips, letting me know he was back to his usual self.

  “I dunno, I am the key to this, after all. I could just leave if you preferred. You know, ’cause I’m not important or anything.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

  “You think you’re important, huh?” He gently pulled me from the chair and wrapped his free arm around my waist.

  “Oh, I know I’m imp
ortant. No question.” I stepped closer to him, anxious to close the gap between us.

  He dropped my wrists and ran his hand through my hair. He leaned in closer. Before our lips touched, I pulled away with a playful laugh. He gently coaxed me toward him.

  Our lips met and shivers shot through me. I slid my arms up his chest and wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss briefly took me to another place. But when it ended and the distance between us returned, my revelation did as well.

  With a quick onceover, I committed the moment to memory because the minute I told him what I knew, things would change. I might have to go on the run again. Alone.

  “What’s wrong?” Bailen asked with a furrowed brow.

  “Nothing. In fact, I think I’ve figured out the message,” I said. “But first, how’d the recon mission go?” Changing the subject would only be a brief distraction, but I had to try. I needed a few more minutes of normalcy. Even if it was a sore topic of discussion.

  His expression told me he knew I was up to something but couldn’t figure out what. “It was fine. We got a lot of useful intel. However, this isn’t going to be easy. The next upgrade is worse than we suspected.” He hugged me and whispered in my ear, “But if you’ve deciphered the message, that will help.”

  I swallowed hard and concentrated on the stalactite formations hanging from the ceiling. “You better sit down for this.” I pulled back from our embrace and studied his expression.

  His bright smile faded as he lowered into his chair, the magnitude of what I was about to say hitting him full on. I sat in his lap sideways but didn’t face him. “I have to turn my tracker off.”

  “Wait, what? That’s impossible.”

  “For you or anyone else, yes. That’s why you have TROGS to trick the system. But for me, I don’t think it is. I believe I can take it beyond the dormant state it was in before. Turning off my tracker is the key to taking down the tracker network. I’m sure of it.”

  “How do you know?”

  Because Dad had given me the one gift he’d wanted since the inception of trackers. But how did I explain it to Bailen? “The message really bugged me. As I thought about it, I realized the message wasn’t just a clue. It was meant to make me remember something my dad always said to me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I shouldn’t always rely on my tracker. One day it might not be there.”

  “Are you sure that means shutting off your tracker? What if he was talking about all the stuff that’s happened up until now?”

  “He wasn’t. I’m sure of it.”

  Bailen remained silent for a minute as if trying to come up with something to combat my theory, then said, “If that’s what you need to do, then I trust you.”

  “Thanks.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, wishing I could stay here forever and knowing it wasn’t possible.

  “How are you going to shut it off?”

  “I have an idea. Because I think I almost did it once before.”

  “So what are you waiting for? If you know what it takes, why didn’t you shut if off already?” He cupped my chin and lifted my face to meet his. “It’s because you don’t know what will happen when you try to access what’s on your tracker.”

  “I’m not willing to put the Ghosts at risk.” I tried to swallow down the past. “Again. I did once before and look what happened.” The absence of people in the room only drove home my point. “I have to go somewhere else.”

  “Where?”

  “Far away from here.”

  “How will you get the information to us?” he asked. “Stay. I’ve got all this equipment. I can fix anything that happens. Let me help you. I’m willing to risk it.”

  His confidence melted into desperate pleas that tore me apart, one painful slash at a time.

  “I’m not,” I said. “It’s not fair to everyone else.”

  “What if we voted? Or sent the others away temporarily? What if I figured out how to mask your signal? Or what if I came with you?” The suggestions came faster and faster, betraying his nerves. He was afraid to lose me. Everything he loved about being a Ghost was crumbling, one tiny piece at a time. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t help me. I had to do it on my own.

  “I need you,” he whispered, squeezing me so tightly, it told me more than what he had said.

  The words tickled the edge of my ear, traveled inside, and moved down into my chest, where they strangled my heart.

  “I’ll protect you. I’ll protect all of them.” His words squeezed harder and crushed my heart.

  I didn’t even know where I’d go or what I’d do if something went wrong. Or how I’d get word to them if I uncovered the secret but couldn’t turn my tracker back off. He was right. I needed him too, in so many ways.

  I took a deep breath and kissed him, leaving so much meaning behind it. Words wouldn’t suffice. We lost ourselves in the moment. With our lips locked together, I could sense the fear between us. When we parted things would change. But things already had changed.

  My mind swirled. Could I really do it alone? Was it fair to put him in danger? He’d come if I asked, but I couldn’t live with myself if I lost him, too. But there was no way to protect anyone anymore. Everything was a risk.

  Tears threatened to fall, but I squeezed them between my lids. One slid down my cheek onto my lips. Together we tasted the salty sadness and frustration of the situation. Without warning, he pulled away.

  “Something is still bothering you, isn’t it?” he asked.

  As he brushed my hair back, I realized I always bottled everything to avoid showing weakness. Even when Jake had died I’d tried to hide my tears from everyone. But not now. What was happening to me?

  I swallowed the sadness. “There are too many questions. Too much uncertainty.”

  “Let me help you.” He kissed my forehead and it comforted me, but only for a second.

  “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “Then don’t ask. Just say yes when I ask if I can come with.”

  “Where are you two going?” Peyton asked.

  After nearly jumping out of Bailen’s lap, I glared over his shoulder. She had the worst timing.

  She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at me. I buried my head in Bailen’s shoulder. I didn’t want to have to explain everything again.

  “Bailen, stop protecting her. You can’t protect everyone. It’s going to get you killed.”

  The chair spun, and he nudged me off his lap. A moment later, he was in Peyton’s face. “Don’t start with me. This is my job. If it gets me killed, so be it.” He paused, breathing heavily. “Like it or not, this is a war and shit happens. At the end of the day, dead or alive, at least I know I was true to myself, which is more than I can say for you.”

  For the first time since I’d met her, Peyton avoided direct eye contact. She’d pulled her face so tight in some places and scrunched it in others that I hardly recognized her. Despite her reaction, she didn’t move. I wasn’t sure if she was stunned into silence or pain. Maybe some of both.

  A fire ignited in her, and her expression hardened again. “That’s not fair, and you know it!” she yelled.

  “You were right there and you didn’t even try.” Bailen’s hands balled into fists as he stepped closer to her. “You left him there. You know what they do to terrorists, what they’ll do to him.”

  I pushed between them, holding each at arm’s length. “Didn’t try what? Left who?” But I didn’t need answers to know it was about their father. That leaving him must have hurt Bailen more than he let on.

  “I was following orders. It’s what we do,” Peyton fired back, ignoring me.

  “Yeah, sure, Pey, be a good little soldier. When have you ever followed orders?”

  Peyton shoved me to the side and moved inches from Bailen. “Because they came from Dad.”

  They both froze in place, breathing hard. Watching them yell devastated me. I couldn’t let their bond cr
umble. It sent a pang of regret through me. I missed Jake. I’d never fight with him again. Which seemed like a strange thing to miss, but it was a part of our sibling bond. I’d hated the fights Jake and I had had, but those had been nothing serious. We’d only fought because we’d loved each other. Now, I’d lost the chance to tell him how much I really did. But here were two siblings tearing each other apart when they should have been coming together. I had to do something.

  Peyton’s words tore me from my guilt-ridden stream of consciousness. “I hope your little girlfriend is worth it. ’Cause if she’s not, this is the end. This fight is over.” She shoved him away and stormed off.

  Bailen leaned against his desk and stared straight ahead, not registering my presence.

  Without any warning, he snapped into motion. He grabbed computer equipment and piled it into a large, black box. I put my hand on his shoulder. He stopped for a brief moment before continuing to pile more things into the box.

  “Bailen, talk to me.”

  He whirled around and grabbed my arms. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m going with you.”

  He dropped his arms and brushed past me, making his way to the far corner of the room. After picking up another stack of equipment, he shoved it into his box and slammed the lid shut. With the kit under one arm, he offered his free hand and led me from the room without another word.

  Twenty-Nine

  Minutes later, we were in the air. He still hadn’t said a word to me. “Where are we going?” I asked, breaking the awkward silence. There was no hiding from the authorities. Not anymore. TROGS was a temporary fix. The ruse couldn’t go on forever.

  “Someplace no one will think to look for us.”