I dunno. I guess I just didn’t expect someone being forced to conform to ROC rules to be so spunky. You remind me of someone I used to know.
Lillynn. I’d reminded Daniel of his daughter, the daughter he’d left behind so he too could survive against the League. That’s why Daniel allowed me to live in his home, why he stood up for me and protected me until the end. Like Charlie was trying to save herself through me, Daniel was trying to save his daughter.
I wonder if it helped him find some closure at all. I don’t know. I don’t know what people think and feel as they lay dying, what parts of their life suddenly make perfect sense and what questions will forever go unanswered. I kind of hope I never do know. When I die, which seems to be a growing possibility each day I walk the surface, I want it to be quick and painless. I don't want time to examine my mistakes or relive lost moments and memories. I just want to be gone.
But Charlie’s conversation, learning her and Daniel’s past, does leave me wondering about mine. If Rey’s plan is successful, my father will die and ROC will become a memory, a thing of my past. I hate it and hate everything it stands for, but once upon a time, it was my home.
Forgetting why I even came downstairs in the first place, I rush back down the hallway in search of Rey.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I find Rey in the dining room where I met with Charlie the day she told me the truth about ROC, appropriate I guess for the next words coming out of my mouth.
“I want to go back to the O.Z.”
Rey twists around slowly in his chair, his face knotted in confusion. “What?”
“I want to go back to ROC. I mean, not inside obviously, I think the walls would suffocate me at this point, but I want you to show me where you escaped from. I want to… I don’t know, say good-bye I guess before you and Nole and Charlie blow it up or whatever you’re planning.”
“We’re not blowing it up,” he says, returning to his drawings as if my request is a joke not to be taken seriously. Ancient, laminated maps and dry, crinkled papers litter the table, rustling as Rey pokes through them before finding one he needs.
“Fine,” I say with slightly more command in my voice. “But I want to see it, where you escaped, I mean.”
Again, he shifts to face me, head cocked to one side so locks of hair flop over his forehead. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I can’t explain it, I just feel like I need to.”
Sitting back in his chair and stretching, he sighs. “Fine, but not today, Nole and I are supposed to go over these notes.” He waves at rolls of yellowed paper with hand-drawn lines and notations.
“Is that ROC?” I ask, stepping closer to catch a glimpse of his work.
“Yeah. The air ducts mostly. Or what I can remember of them anyway. Where we can enter, where the main ones go, how to get out. I’m trying to overlay it with these maps of the surface to get an idea of how big everything is, maybe find other external vents if any exist. I’m not sure how accurate any of it will be since I left, but it’s the best I can do.”
There must be two dozen renderings spread along the table, some showing specific details such as air vents, camera locations, how many feet span between each.
“You did all this from memory?”
His shoulders shrug, as if it’s not that big a deal. “It was my job for several years.”
He looks so tired, dark circles hanging under blood-shot eyes. I wonder how late he stays up each night to do this, sitting alone in the old dining room pulling this information from the depths of his memories. I’ve been so worried about Jax I haven’t even considered that Rey needs someone looking after him too.
“Rey, this is more than just job knowledge,” I say, picking up one of the drawings that details the vents running outside the Council Chambers. Arrows mark which ones run into the Chambers and each shaft has numerical notations indicating width and whether or not someone could fit inside.
“I thought you didn’t want to be involved in this?” He doesn't snap, but a subtle note of annoyance hangs in his voice.
I put the drawing back down. “I don’t. This just seems like… a lot. More than you would have known for work.”
“It’s part of Jericho’s plan. Or well, the plan of whoever is leading the revolutionaries. They asked me to map the ductwork because it will give them access to the Councilmembers’ suites and the Council Circle, even the Gendarme’s armory. I’ve been doing it for years. I had to be secretive about it though. Can’t have the Gendarme seeing me wander around with expensive tablets or measuring distances between the cameras.”
“That’s why you learned to write. To take notes, create these drawings once before.”
He nods. “I wrote on little scrapes stuffed into my sleeves. That way, if anyone got suspicious or I was caught, I could eat the paper and get rid of the evidence."
I think about the frayed ends of the sleeves of Rey's coveralls. I always assumed he tugged on them because they were too short when all this time he was probably trying to keep slips of paper hidden inside, afraid one would fall out.
Rey sits back in his chair. "Jericho didn’t want to risk someone hacking into an electronic device, or risk the possibility the Gendarme already controls all the electronics anyway, so we write everything out. He’s been making paper in his suite out of old pieces of linen, trash, food containers, stuff like that and keeping everything hidden. Some in his suite, some spread out in the suites of the other leaders so that if anyone gets caught, the whole mission isn’t lost.”
“How long?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“How long have people been planning a revolution?”
“I don’t know, I only got involved last year but for Jericho and the others? Years. Maybe even a decade. It’s a gentle thing, revolutions are. If one person gets caught, it puts everyone at risk. If the entire mission doesn’t go exactly as planned, there’s no second chance. He needs enough people to believe him, and be willing to fight, to outnumber the Gendarme. He needs a little spark, something to ignite the whole thing and energize everyone in the Subs. Once that happens, once enough believe in the cause and believe in life on the surface, the Gendarme will be useless.”
We stand in silence for several moments. I gaze over the drawings, the tangible outcome of years of Rey’s life and the hopes of so many people. And I had no idea. If I hadn’t known the truth about the surface, if I believed the lies of my father and the Councilmembers, what side of the revolution would I have fought on?
“Can we go tomorrow then?” I ask eventually, pulling my gaze from the maps and drawings.
“Sure. We’ll have to leave in the morning to make it back before dark.”
“Then I’ll see you outside in the morning. I’ll bring lunch.”
Leaving, I tug the dining room door shut behind me leaving Rey to his work.
As I turn in the hallway, I’m surprised to see Evy coming down the main staircase, one hand on the railing and the other supporting her brother.
“Evy, Randolph,” I say and both look up. Randolph’s face is still adorned with the markings from Elijah and the rest of the League. He favors his left ankle, leaning onto Evy as they ascend the last few steps.
“Hey,” Evy says with a smile.
I nod to Randolph, offering an encouraging smile of my own. “It’s nice to see you walking around.”
He grimaces. “I would hardly call this walking. Camrie says it’s just badly sprained but I swear it feels broken. If it weren’t for Evy acting as a crutch, I’d still be confined to bed.”
“Camrie says it will be good for him to move around some.”
“Hey, Kelsey,” Randolph says, “I didn’t thank you yet. Evy filled me in. And Rey. What you did, what everyone here did. I don’t know how to repay you.” Tears fill his eyes and he doesn’t bother to hide them.
My fingertips graze his arm in comfort. “You saved me first, remember? Now we’re even. I’ll forgive you for shooting me too.”
<
br /> He laughs. “But you aren’t going to let me forget, huh?”
“No, that’s just crazy talk now.”
“We’re going outside for some fresh air,” Evy says. “Want to join?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m alright. I’ll catch you both later.”
They slowly head for the door, Randolph attempting to bear more of his own weight as his sister hovers nearby, ready to catch him if he falters.
I don’t know what to do for the rest of the day. Rey has to plan, Jax has to sleep and Nadia’s still back at the Risers’ compound. I hope she’s ok and that someone’s told her Jax and I are alive. I imagine that wolf hasn’t left her side.
Jax. I was supposed to bring him food. That was probably an hour ago. Making my way back to the kitchen, I find one last loaf of bread, some berries from the woods and a bucket of fresh water. Gathering the food and filling a chipped china bowl with water, I return to Jax’s room.
He sits up, gingerly, but without grimacing in pain this time; a huge improvement over a few days ago.
“Did you find the kitchen by way of the old compound?” he asks.
“Sorry. I got caught up with Charlie.”
“She just left. Wanted to see how I’m feeling.”
“They’re planning an attack on ROC," I blurt out. I debated whether or not I should tell him, but he’ll find out sooner or later. Secrets help no one.
Sitting straighter, his eyes sparkle as the corners of his lips turn upward. “Awesome. Let’s go.”
I put a hand to his chest, pressing him back to the pillows. “They aren’t going now. They need an actual plan. A good one. This isn’t going to be like our attacks on the League. ROC is made out of cement, cinderblock and steel. Fireworks will only do so much damage down there.”
“We’re out of fireworks anyway.”
“So then they really need a good plan.”
“Who’s in charge? I want in.”
“Of course you do. God forbid you don't run straight into danger every time it presents itself."
"You’re one to talk. And what fun would running from danger be anyway?"
"Nole’s in charge. And Charlie of course.”
Lifting his eyebrows, Jax pulls his mouth into a tight line. “And Rey.”
Not a question.
I collapse into the chair I’ve been sleeping in ever since we arrived at the safe house.
“Jax,” I say, exhaustion wearing heavy in my voice. “I know you don’t like Rey but-“
“See, that’s the thing,” Jax says, cutting me off and propping himself up on his good arm. “I do like him. I think, given different circumstances, he and I would be really good friends. And the fact I actually like him, makes me want to dislike him even more, if that makes any sense at all. I guess that’s why you have such a hard time deciding, but if you picked him over me, I’d understand. I’d get it. He might not be as smart as me, or nearly as handsome, but he’s a good guy, a good friend and I know he loves you."
With a wince, Jax slides across the bed to move closer to me. "What I hate is not knowing. I hate lying up here in this stupid bed not knowing what’s happening, what you’re thinking, how this is going to end. That’s what I can’t stand, all the uncertainty.”
I can’t look at him, I’m too ashamed. He speaks the painful truth, I’ll never deny it, but hearing the words from his mouth confirming the ones screaming inside my brain makes what I’ve done, what I continue to do, so much worse.
“I’m sorry, Jax,” I whisper, gaze still tracing the floorboards. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Rey. Too much has happened too quickly and while the League is gone, we still aren’t finished the war. Not with Elijah still out there. I won’t decide anything now, I can’t. Right now, we all need to focus on surviving, then we can worry about a future, whatever future that might be.”
He says nothing for so long, I think he’s fallen back asleep, but when I lift my eyes, Jax stares out the window, though I don’t think it’s the fluffy white clouds he sees.
“Fine,” he mumbles. Then, with another pained grimace, he rolls over and pulls the blanket up to his ear, signaling I am no longer welcome here.
I rise from the chair, feeling like my stomach has dropped onto the floor. I don’t know what to say so I say nothing at all, pushing myself to the door before either of us say something we regret.
Upon reaching the threshold, I pause, one hand on the doorframe because otherwise I might fall over from the emotions raking my insides. “I’m going to ROC tomorrow morning, to the air vent where Rey escaped. And Rey is going with me. I want to, I don’t know, say good-bye or something. I just thought you should know.”
And then I leave him alone to sit in pain, half of which I’ve caused and none that I can remedy.
CHAPTER TWENTY- ONE
As promised, I exit the main doors of the school building just in time to see the sun peek over the horizon, tingeing the night sky with the first burgundy- gold splashes of morning. A pack of food and water canteens hang over my shoulder.
A shuffling of footsteps meets my ears and I turn to find Rey, the sight of him easing away a tension I didn’t know I had.
“What?” he asks when he notices my expression, “you didn’t think I’d come?”
“I don’t know what to think about anything anymore. You ready?”
“That depends, what’s in that lunch bag?”
I grin. “Sandwiches, some pears, a couple oranges, water.”
“And?”
“And I snuck some of those buttermilk biscuits that I’m pretty sure you’ve been single-handedly polishing off.”
“That’s my girl,” he says, tugging on one of my loose curls and letting it bounce free from his fingertips. Then he points over the tree tops. “We’re heading that way. And I hope you’ve got on your hiking boots.”
* * *
As the day unfolds, clouds roll in and a grey sky follows our journey, threatening rain but never quite following through. Still, the ominous tone, the heavy, muggy air and the stillness of the woods unsettles me, as if more than just the potential weather means us harm. I startle and look over my shoulder so many times, Rey eventually walks behind me, calling out changes in direction and giving me a small sense of comfort that someone watches my back.
With no sun to track thanks to the thick clouds, I’m not sure what time it is when we reach a small clearing and pause.
“There is it,” Rey says.
“Where?” I ask, craning my neck and squinting my eyes, searching the trees, tall grass, dancing wildflowers and scattered boulders. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. “I don’t see anything.”
“I think that’s the point.”
Stepping ahead, Rey hoists himself onto one of the largest rocks, then turns and offers me his hand. Clasping it, I'm hauled upward onto the rock as well, pebbles and loose stones shifting under my boots. Rey kneels down and brushes away fresh moss and dead leaves. As he does so, a rusted metal door appears, no larger than four feet square and set down into the rock so that unless one happens to be standing on top of it and knows what to look for, it would never be found. The hinges are broken, probably from when Rey exited.
“Wow,” I breathe, voice low.
“You don’t have to whisper,” Rey says with a chuckle. “ROC is still two miles down and I’m sure the gas chamber is closed and empty right now."
“I can’t believe you climbed all that to come out here.”
“Neither can I.”
I look up at him, catching those blue eyes so familiar I know them better than my own. “Did you expect all of this when you got to the surface?”
“Did you?” he asks with a forlorn grin. Looking around, I take in the trees and the rocks and the sky and all the things that, once upon a time, I never thought I’d see. I never even dared to believe some of it could exist. Now here we are, and none of it has been what I expected that moment I stepped out of ROC.
“Is there anything els
e you wanted to see before we head back?" he asks.
I already know the answer, but it still takes me a moment to respond. “No. I guess I just wanted to see it with my own eyes.”
“Oh, dear Kels, all these years and you still can’t take my word for it.”
“Oh yeah? What happened to the cameras in Sector B on my birthday?”
With an impish, sideways smirk Rey scratches his head. “Sector B cameras. On your birthday, you say? I don't recall."
"They were broken, conveniently where you know I like to go read."
"Oh, those cameras. I climbed up into the vent and disabled them that morning. Temporarily of course. How else was I going to give you your birthday present?"
"You mean a stolen cookie?"
"I prefer confiscated."
“And you wonder why I can’t take your word for it.”
“You ready to go back? We’re probably going to have to walk the last mile or two in the dark.”
I take another look at the old, worn door, the only sign of an entire civilization two miles below filled with tens of thousands of people living in fear and believing the world above is nothing but a radioactive, barren wasteland. It makes me want to scream down the air shaft that the life they know is a lie. I want to rip the metal covering off and fling myself back into ROC and rescue all those innocent people and hold every last Councilmember accountable for their crimes. Punish them for murder.
But I’m too scared. I’m leaving Rey and Charlie and Nole to do what I can’t bring myself to handle.
“When?” I ask softly.
Rey doesn’t answer and I think he hasn’t heard my question, but when I lift my head I see him staring intently at me.
“I’m not sure. Not soon. We need more time to prepare and we need to get back to the Riser’s compound to train anyone going with us. They’ll need to be familiar with the inside of ROC, how to maneuver through the air shafts, a general idea of layout. And, you know, allow time for everyone to recover from our battle with the League. Maybe by the end of the summer, maybe longer.”
The Choice (The Gamble Series Book 2) Page 16