by Jen Guberman
“I know. You always were the goody-goody,” I smiled gratefully. “Thank you so much for getting us this far.”
“Of course. After I read the letter you sent, I didn’t think I’d ever even have a chance of seeing you again. You were my best friend—I had to help, especially because I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again after this. Use my card to open the door. Remember—room 6A. Continue straight down this hall, take the stairs down, and it’ll be on the right side. When you leave, just keep running and don’t stop until you’re out. My card can’t get you out of the guard door—you’ll need to pick the lock—but you have to be careful—and very, very fast. Run and don’t look back. Stay out of the line of fire too, because depending on who is guarding the gate at the time, some of them might shoot.”
It was silent for a moment.
“What? I’m just saying,” he said, seeing our looks of fear.
“How will you get your card back once we leave though?” Zane asked.
“Once you run past the gate, drop it in the sand. I’ll know to look for it there, if someone doesn’t find it and return it first. I can just claim that it must have fallen off my lanyard while doing rounds. I’d much rather get called careless than get called a traitor.”
“Fair enough. Thank you again, Fabian,” I said with a smile, reaching out and hugging him.
He hugged me back without another word. He gave a solemn but cheesy salute. His brow furrowed as the corner of his lip twitched into a saddened smile as he turned to leave, shutting the door again behind him.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the closed door before turning my attention to the ID card in my hands. It was a thin, flimsy piece of white plastic with a thin periwinkle border. On it was a stiff photograph of Fabian, his strawberry blonde hair in tightly curled clumps on his head, his large-rimmed glasses making his hazel eyes look unnaturally small, and his lips turned up in a dorky half-smile. Next to his picture, there were some lines of printed information about his name, birthday, an ID number, and a few other things.
“When you’re done staring at that card, we should probably get moving. We don’t have much time,” Zane said, poking me to get my attention.
“Right,” I said, drawing my attention back to the plan. “Let’s go.”
Zane and I drew our daggers out, holding them steady at our sides as we progressed down the hall.
“Stand over there, out of initial sight if someone is behind the door,” Zane whispered, his hand over the doorknob. “I’m going to open it and peek through to see if the coast is clear, but be ready. If there’s someone behind it, try to knock them out or something. We don’t want to hurt anyone we don’t have to, but we also don’t want them to go tattling on us.”
I nodded, standing guard as Zane made eye contact with me before cracking the door open, barely enough to peer through. He was silent for a minute before he opened the door fully.
“It’s empty,” he said. “Just the staircase.”
He led the way downstairs and into another hallway. This one was lined with closed doors on either side, and each door had an ID scanner fixed on it above the doorknob. As we progressed down the hall, we glanced at each of the tabs above the doorways. The odd-numbered rooms were on the left, and the even on the right. A few rooms down the hall, we saw it. Room 6A.
I fumbled with the ID card for a moment, trying to figure out how the scanner worked. The scanner had a small electronic screen, with a slit in the front. I pushed the card into the opening, and suddenly there was a loud honking sound from the screen panel as the words “flip card” appeared in bold red letters. I pulled the card out immediately and turned it the other direction, pushing it back into the scanner. There was a chime, followed by a deep thunk from within the door. Zane looked back at me with matched confusion. He shrugged, held out his dagger, and tentatively turned the knob and opened the door.
“There’s no one in here,” Zane said, entering the room.
As soon as he stepped foot in room 6A, lights automatically flickered on, revealing metal cabinets along all of the walls. Each of the cabinets had labels taped to them, but the labels made no sense to us—they were seemingly randomized combinations of letters and numbers.
“Remember what it’s supposed to look like,” I said, digging out the photograph of the Skeleton Key and its box.
We studied the picture for a moment and I tucked it away again.
“Just start looking,” I said, pulling open a drawer marked GER534S.
I rummaged through the drawer. Each item in it was sealed in individual bags. In the GER534S cabinet, I found a bag of little white pills, a bag with a pack of cigarettes, and a bag with a syringe.
“Any luck?” I asked Zane, who had started his search on the other side of the room.
“None,” he replied, still digging.
We continued searching through the bags in the cabinets, hoping to find something that resembled the Skeleton Key, but then we heard the chime of a scanner outside the door, followed by a thunk.
The door swung open, revealing four figures—four officials in uniforms, two of which held weapons and one of which held two syringes. The fourth figure was Fabian.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air!” commanded one of the armed officials.
I looked at Zane, panicked as I saw his palms open and heard his dagger clatter against the tile floor.
“Drop your weapon!” the official repeated, motioning toward me. “I’m not going to say it again!”
I relaxed my hand, letting my dagger fall as I slowly stretched my open palms above my head.
“Are these the criminals that stole your ID?” one of the officials asked Fabian, who looked at me as if we were strangers.
“Yes.”
“You are to hold still,” the official said, turning back to Zane and me. “If we see you so much as flinch, we will shoot you. Do you understand?”
We stared back at the official in silence.
“Wonderful,” he said dryly as the man with the syringes walked cautiously toward me.
I grimaced as he jabbed one of the syringes into my thigh. He looked at me with a wicked grin as he pushed the plunger, and suddenly everything went dark.
◆◆◆
When I came to, I began to make out my surroundings. I was in a large, dim room. There was a long, slick black table in front of me, with me at the head seat, and a fair-skinned woman with thick, curled raven-black hair in a pressed suit sat at the far end. Officials sat along either end of the table, and one of them nearest me had mine and Zane’s bags and daggers in front of him on the table. Fabian was no longer with them, but my face burned when I thought of how he betrayed me.
Where’s Zane?
I sat forward in my seat in panic, feeling a growing tightness around my wrists and hearing the rattle of handcuffs.
“Eos Dawn,” the woman started.
“Can I help you?” I asked snarkily.
Her eyes twinkled as she narrowed them, tilting her head slightly as she observed me.
“This is for your protection, Eos.”
“My protection?” I spat with a laugh.
“Yes. This is your trial. Even though you’ve broken more laws than the average criminal, the law still states that it is your right to have a trial before you are exiled, though this time it will be a little different.”
“Why are you bothering to have a trial if you know who I am?”
“Pardon?”
“If you know who I am, you know what I’ve done.”
“Yes, but we don’t know why. For all we know, you could have a righteous reason.”
I scoffed.
She looked at me plainly and sighed.
“Miss Dawn, you’re not doing yourself any favors by not taking this seriously.”
“Look, I know what I’ve done and I know why I did all of it, but I’m definitely not some ‘righteous’ criminal.”
“Are
you admitting selfish motivation?”
“Uh. Sure?”
“Write that down,” she mumbled to a mousey man on her right.
The man began scribbling away on a notepad.
“Who are you, anyways?” I asked the woman.
“Raine Velora. I’m the leader of Fallmont.”
“Okay, look, Ms. Velora—”
“Raine. Just call me Raine. Ms. Velora sounds too much like my mother’s name,” she said with a chuckle.
“Fine. Whatever. Look, you know what I’ve done. If you’re going to send me off somewhere, why are you wasting your time asking me questions?”
“We can’t ‘send you off’ anywhere until we know exactly why you visited all of the exile towns.”
“That’s a shame, because quite frankly, I don’t want to tell you.”
“I’m going to give you one more chance, Miss Dawn. What or who were you after and why? You compromised our entire system by traveling from exile town to exile town, and we need to know the full motivation.”
I cocked one of my eyebrows and stared back at Raine, who was growing irritated.
“Bring in Mr. Hess,” she called to one of her officials.
Suddenly, two men in HAZMAT suits dragged a sedated Zane into the room, strapping his arms, legs, and torso to an empty chair.
My eyes bounced between the men, Zane, and Raine as I began to panic.
“Tell us why you went to all of the exile towns, and then Fallmont.”
“Don’t—” Zane sputtered sleepily.
“No,” I answered.
Raine nodded to the two men, who proceeded to roll out a cart full of vials of liquid. One of the men steadied Zane’s chair, while the other popped open one of the vials, holding it over Zane’s arm. A single droplet of the liquid rolled out and splattered on Zane’s skin, simmering. He let out a pained yell, shaking in his restraints.
“What are you doing to him?!” I screamed.
“I don’t really feel like answering your question,” Raine grinned.
“He isn’t doing anything wrong—why are you hurting him?”
“He’s as guilty as you are, as far as I’m concerned. Answer my questions and they won’t hurt him anymore.”
I looked remorsefully over at Zane. I can’t tell her. I don’t want to be the person that gets the Skeleton Key destroyed, and I don’t want to put any of the people that helped us at risk.
“I can’t.”
Raine frowned, signaling to the men once again. They poured a few drops this time, but in the same place on Zane’s arm. He let out a gravely scream as his skin began to blister.
This went on for a while longer until suddenly, Raine grew tired of not getting her way.
“I’m sick of playing this game,” she growled at me. “Plan B!”
The two men looked at her for a moment.
“Ma’am,” one of them protested lightly.
“Do it,” she commanded.
The man opened another vial, while the other forced open Zane’s mouth. The official poured the contents of the vial into Zane’s open mouth, and then the official forced Zane’s mouth shut briefly as he began to violently convulse. When the grip on his mouth was released, he began to choke. Pink foam oozed out of his mouth as he shook, gasping and letting out gurgled cries.
I wrestled against my restraints, screaming at Raine and her officials.
“STOP!” I shrieked, my eyes welling up.
“Tell me what you were doing outside Avid.”
I looked over at Zane; his body was limp as the pink foam dripped from his lips, and he was breathing laboriously.
“Fine,” I surrendered.
I paused for a moment as all of the officials turned to look at me.
“I’m here for the Skeleton Key.”
“Skeleton Key?” Raine asked, confused.
“It’s an invention from a man who used to live in Avid. It’s a device.”
“What does it do?”
I took a moment before responding reluctantly.
“It’s supposed to open any kind of lock.”
“Is that so? That doesn’t explain why you went to all of the exile towns though, and then to Fallmont. Do you not know the location of this Skeleton Key?”
“I do. But I needed keys from the exile towns to open its box.”
“I see. So, is the Skeleton Key supposedly in Fallmont? Is that why you came here after all the exile towns? You found all the keys you need?”
“Yes.”
The scribe continued frantically recording our words.
“Where in Fallmont is the Skeleton Key?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. That’s why we didn’t find it.”
“Alright. I believe that answers everything we need for the time being. If more questions arise, Mr. Hess and you will be brought back for further interrogation. Until then, you will be in a holding cell, and you will be brought to Ironwood in the morning.”
“Ironwood?” I asked.
“The only remaining prison in the New Territory,” she changed her focus to the official with my belongings in front of him. “Bring her to the cell. You two clean up the boy and then bring him down as well.”
The official left my belongings on the table as he approached me with a small key in hand. He reached down to uncuff me as he spoke.
“Don’t get your hopes up—the cuffs are going to stay on. I only have to remove one hand from them to get you from the chair.”
I bit my lip, suppressing a smirk. He released my hand from the cuffs and without a second’s pause, I swung my fist around and felt it collide with his jaw. I threw myself across the slick table, snatching up my dagger and wielding it defensively in front of me. The cuffs dangled from my left wrist as I held my dagger with my right hand. I grabbed a handful of hair from one of the official’s heads, pressing my dagger to her throat.
“Take off his restraints!” I demanded the men in HAZMAT suits.
They looked at Raine for permission, and she simply nodded her head. They unstrapped Zane, and he fell out of the chair onto his side, groaning in pain. I tugged the official along with me, keeping the dagger at her neck as I guided her toward Zane.
“Zane,” I called down to him. “Can you move?”
He weakly nodded his head, shaking as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position. I shuffled until the official and I were blocking the view of the cart full of vials. I released the official’s hair for a second, keeping the dagger to her throat as I tucked a couple of the closed vials into my coat pocket subtly, speaking to distract the room of officials.
“You’re going to let us walk out peacefully. You will allow me to take mine and Zane’s belongings, and you will not stop us,” I threatened.
“That is where you’re wrong,” Raine said smoothly.
As she said this, I caught sight of two of the officials pointing guns at Zane.
“No—” I breathed as one of the officials put his finger on the trigger. “No!”
“You’re going to let us take you to the cell peacefully. You will not retrieve your belongings, and you will not protest,” Raine said, mocking me.
“Fine. Just leave him alone.”
“Deal.”
Immediately, guards began surrounding Zane and me, handcuffing us both. They forced Zane to his feet and shoved the two of us forward, turning down a hallway. One of the officials pulled out an ID card and inserted it into a scanner. The scanner chimed pleasantly, and the official opened the large door. Zane and I were pushed inside and without another word, they slammed the door shut behind us.
Zane crumpled over on the floor. He began coughing, spattering blood on the white tile beneath him. He tried to push himself back up, attempting to dig in his jacket pocket but began coughing again.
“Take it easy,” I said, sitting on the floor beside him and putting an arm around him.
“I got it,” he gasped, spitting up some blood and foam.
“Got what?”
<
br /> “The Skeleton Key.”
“What?” I asked, my eyes wide as my heart began to race. “How?”
“When I heard them unlock the door,” he choked. “Pocket.”
I reached around Zane’s waist, searching the belongings in his pocket. I felt the crinkly plastic of a bag, which I pulled out. In the bag was a shallow, russet-colored wooden box about the length of my hand. I tore open the bag and observed the box, turning it over in my hands. There were five identical locks along one edge of it.
“The keys. Which pocket are the keys in?” I asked Zane.
He rolled over on his other side, making his pocket available.
“Left.”
I fumbled around in his jean pocket and pulled out two of the keys. I took the other three out of my own pocket and arranged all of them in a line on the floor.
“Which one is which?” I asked.
Zane shrugged, grumbling.
I picked up one of the keys, taking a closer look at it. They all looked fairly similar, despite some being made with different materials. Upon closer look, I could see a small ‘A’ engraved on the edge of the key in my hand. They’re labeled, I thought excitedly, picking up another one of the keys, seeing a ‘D’ etched on it. Frantically, I organized the keys in alphabetical order.
A.
B.
C.
D.
E.
I put the keys into the locks on the box in order, letting them all stay in place before turning any of them. I looked at the box for a moment and turned to Zane.
“Unlock it,” I said, holding out the box.
“What?”
“Unlock it. You were the one who found it. You should get to unlock it.”
“You sure?” he asked, turning his head to look up at me.
“Yes,” I handed him the box.