by Ellery Kane
“That’s why Augustus wanted us to take you to this spot,” Max explained. “A man was killed here during that rally. The Guardian Force made it look like the Resistance was responsible.”
“How?” I asked, unable to conceal my bewilderment.
I noticed that Quin had walked away from us. He was standing on the sidewalk, absent-mindedly kicking at some of the debris with his boot.
Max glanced cautiously in his direction before answering. “By having one of the Guardians dress up as a protestor and fire the shot. That way, the public would fear the Resistance, and the government could justify their plan for evacuating the city.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, my eyes widening.
“It wasn’t the only time,” Max added. “There are a few more unfortunate stops on this tour.”
I shook my head in disgust at everything I had learned today about the Guardian Force. I desperately wished I could talk to my mother. She would know what to do—she always did. I began to wonder if she had known all along about the true purpose of the Guardians.
Quin was already walking briskly ahead of us. I trotted to catch up to him.
“You never answered my question … about my mother,” I reminded him.
“You’re persistent, you know that?” Somehow, he made it sound like a bad thing. Even so, I nodded, smiling at him.
“What about your dad?” he asked, deliberately changing the subject. “I haven’t heard anything about him.”
I furrowed my brow at Quin. “I wouldn’t have to be so persistent, if you weren’t so evasive,” I teased.
“Fair enough,” he said flatly.
Even though he didn’t deserve a reply, I answered him anyway. “My dad left us when I was ten. My mom and I haven’t heard from him since then. I wish there was more to tell.”
Quin was silenced briefly by my revelation.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just assumed that …” He left his thought unfinished.
“My life was perfect?” I guessed at his assumption.
“Something like that,” he admitted, shrugging.
Max stopped and pointed toward a building that had been gutted by fire. “Stop two,” he told me.
“The Guardian Force set fire to this building,” Max explained. “The government made sure that SFTV would publicly attribute the arson to the Resistance.” He pointed to the red mark of the Resistance, blazing red on all the surrounding buildings.
Turning toward Quin, I carefully considered how to word my next question. “When you were a Guardian, did you ever participate?” I asked, gesturing to the building.
Quin’s jaw tensed. I saw Max eyeing him closely, the way I had seen my mother watchfully attend to a boiling pot on the stove. There was no answer from Quin, but his silence spoke for him.
On our way back, Quin was distant, removed, even from Max. He walked ahead of us, brooding.
“Guess he didn’t like the tour,” Max joked with me, loud enough for Quin to hear him.
Quin turned, his expression softening. He caught my eye and winked at me conspiratorially as he grabbed Max, placing him in a pretend headlock.
“The tour was fantastic.” Quin’s voice was steeped with exaggerated excitement, and I giggled. Rubbing Max’s head with his knuckle, he added, “It was the annoying tour guide I didn’t like.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
RUNNING
I WAS SITTING ON MY bed, holding my book open to the dog-eared page. Only my eyes were reading. My mind was in a million other places. I had been prepared to fear the Guardian Force, but I was unnerved by what I had learned. Whatever their purpose, they were ruthless. Even more surprising, I hadn’t expected to distrust the leader of the Resistance, but Augustus had given me an uneasy feeling that I couldn’t ignore. He seemed as smooth and slick as oil. Another lesson from my mother: Never disregard that small, but insistent voice inside of you.
And there was something else I kept turning over and over in my mind like a stone. Quin, Max, and Elana had all been recruited as teenagers by the Guardian Force: Max from a group home, Quin from the streets—and Elana, I was still uncertain about, though I knew that she had demonstrated resistance to Emovere. Perhaps it was only an unlucky coincidence, but I couldn’t help but think that long before the Guardians came looking for them, each had experienced something painful, something that couldn’t be taken back. Was that why the Guardians had recruited them?
Mid-thought, I was halted by Quin’s voice.
“I’m taking Artos for a run. Do you want to come?” Quin stood in the doorway, wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Artos was prancing, trying to contain his anticipation.
“Outside?”
“Not exactly.” Quin smirked at me, running his hand through his dark brown hair, his eyes mischievous. I had to admit, Max was right— Quin was handsome—the unreachable kind of boy who, in my old life, I would have longed for from afar.
“I brought some clothes for you. These are Elana’s.” He held out a small bag with a shirt, shorts, and sneakers. “I’ll meet you at the platform in ten minutes.”
I felt eager to be alone with Quin. I was intent upon asking him about the meeting, but somewhere in my butterflied stomach, I knew that wasn’t the only reason. When I arrived at the platform, Quin and Artos were standing below on the train tracks. Quin was jogging in place, holding a flashlight, and Artos was jumping eagerly next to him.
“Ready for this?” he asked me, his voice issuing a challenge. “I should warn you that I’m pretty fast.”
“I would expect nothing less.” I smiled at him.
Running through the tunnels was surprisingly exhilarating. Except for the small circle of light from Quin’s flashlight, we were shadowed in darkness. After terrorizing a few unlucky birds, Artos trotted obediently next to us. Quin ran effortlessly. His breathing was steady and calm. I tried to match his pace, but he hadn’t exaggerated. He was fast. After the first mile, Quin slowed his stride and turned to me.
“What did you think about the meeting?” he asked. I was surprised, but grateful that he had brought it up unprompted. He’d already been clear about his disdain for my persistence.
Uncertain how to sum up my thoughts for him, I began with the easiest question.
“Why did Augustus lie about how Elliot died?”
“He didn’t lie,” Quin replied. He kept running, his pace a steady trot.
After a few minutes of silence, I realized that Quin had no intention of offering more.
“You know, you don’t have to make every conversation so difficult,” I said, annoyed.
Quin stopped and turned to face me. “He didn’t lie. He wouldn’t lie.” His voice was stern. “I told him that I killed Elliot.”
“But why?” I asked.
“You ask that a lot, you know.” I sensed that Quin wanted to trust me, but couldn’t. His restraint protected him, like a turtle’s shell hiding its soft underbelly.
“I know. Bad habit,” I said. “But I’m trying to figure you out.”
Quin took a breath. “I’ve done things, Lex, bad things. I’ve hurt people. If you knew what I did, you probably wouldn’t like me.”
I felt a dull ache, like a hammer strike to my chest, as I heard the shame in Quin’s voice. I wanted to touch him, but I held back. “What makes you think I like you?” I asked, trying to lighten his mood.
Quin gave a half-hearted smile.
“I’ve hurt people too, you know,” I said. I thought of Elliot, who was just a young man like Max or Quin, probably with a story equally as painful.
Quin nodded in agreement, but it seemed forced. As I turned from him, ready to resume our run, his voice stopped me.
“You don’t hurt people, Lex. That’s not what you do. That’s what I do, and that’s why I lied.” His voice was hard as nails, matter-of-fact, as if it was a speech he had practiced many times alone.
I offered no response. We ran another four miles in silence, both of us entirely alone with our thou
ghts. I remembered Elana’s words. Quin had been through a lot. The question was what?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BULLET TO THE HEAD
QUIN AND I RETURNED TO chaos, the hallways thick with the members of the Resistance. They were scrambling like ants. As we dodged anxious faces, I caught snippets of conversations. “Ten bodies … bullet to the head … Guardians …”
Quin and I exchanged a look.
“We should see Augustus.” He said it without thinking, as if Augustus was the answer to every question. Quin wore his distrust for others like a badge, yet it appeared he trusted Augustus without exception. It worried me.
I followed Quin past the Map Room, down another long corridor, and through two more secured doors to a third. Outside, several armed members of the Resistance stood guard.
“Hey, Quin,” a guard said in a low voice, gesturing us over. “We tried to find you. Augustus is meeting with the rest of the Council.”
He opened the door and ushered us in.
Inside, around a large table, five chairs were filled. A sixth sat empty. Augustus presided at the head, of course. As we entered, I watched him cast a look of disappointment toward Quin. Immediately, Quin’s shoulders slumped, his head hung downward like a scolded puppy. Just as he was about to take the sixth seat, which was meant for him, Augustus turned his cold eyes toward us and spoke.
“Mr. McAllister, would you care to enlighten us as to your whereabouts for the past hour?” Augustus’ voice was different than before. He was no longer charming.
Quin avoided Augustus’ eyes. “I’m sorry, Augustus. There’s no excuse.”
“You’re right. There is no excuse.”
His words cut Quin like the strike of a whip, fast and deep. Dr. Bell and Vera Bullock lowered their eyes, embarrassed for Quin. Only Cason continued to stare at him, a look of amusement on his face.
With that, Augustus was finished with Quin and turned his lash to me.
“Ms. Knightley, this meeting is for Council members only. I’m afraid I must ask you to leave.”
I looked to Quin for support, but he refused to meet my eyes. I touched his shoulder gently, and he nodded at me, expressionless.
“Go,” he said.
CHAPTER TWENTY
AT THEIR HEARTS
LATER THAT EVENING, THE RESISTANCE reconvened in the Map Room. I immediately noticed that Quin was absent. I found a seat next to Max and Elana.
“Where’s Quin?” I asked with concern, unable to shake the way he had cowered to Augustus.
Max shook his head. “He’s been restricted from the meeting. Punishment.”
“Punishment?” I asked incredulously.
Elana nodded. “Augustus has always taken a special interest in Quin.” Her tone suggested disapproval. “Right after Augustus was elected, he found Quin living on the street. He made him the youngest Council member. I think Quin views him as a father.”
Augustus cleared his throat and began speaking before she could say anymore. Cason joined him at the front of the room, his face chiseled and emotionless.
“Members of the Resistance, we have a matter of great concern. Today, during our regular patrols, we discovered the bodies of ten Guardian Force recruits washed ashore near Pier 33. Mr. Caruso has confirmed through his sources outside the city that at least five of them had been recently extricated from the Guardian program. We suspect, with further investigation, we will confirm that all of the casualties failed to meet Guardian Force standards and were rejected for further experimentation. Each was killed with a single bullet to the back of the head. As you know, this is the second such discovery in the past month. We believe that, by ordering these executions, the leader of the Guardian Force, General Jamison Ryker, has intended to send us a message. But we will not be deterred in our cause.”
I glanced at Max, remembering our conversation from the morning and the question I had left unasked. Now I had the answer and wished that I didn’t.
Augustus continued, “I know that those of you who have defected are anxious to learn the identities of the victims. We will obtain and disseminate the information as soon as we are able.”
From the back of the room, a man’s thundering voice demanded, “What are we going to do about it?”
Another voice joined. “We can’t just let them get away with it!”
And another shouted, “We’ve been passive for too long. What are we waiting for?”
Suddenly, the room was alive with anger. I snuck a look at Augustus. He appeared annoyed, as if he was in the middle of a swarm of mosquitoes that he couldn’t swat fast enough.
“Quiet!” Cason’s voice commandeered the crowd. Still, his face was stoic.
With the room momentarily silenced, Augustus spoke, raising his voice slightly—enough to appear powerful, but not so much as to seem threatening. I sensed that he was skilled at manipulation. “I understand all of your concerns. When you elected me your leader, you entrusted me to carry out the vision of the Resistance. An attack at this time would be unwise and would lead to the deaths of many of the Guardian Force, whom we know to be innocent victims of a cruel and dangerous experiment. We must be patient. When we are ready, we will strike them at their hearts.”
After the meeting, I approached Augustus. In this public forum, I hoped he would wear his charming face.
“How can I help you, Ms. Knightley?” He was pleasant, but the tone of his voice suggested that he had no intention of helping me.
“I was hoping that I could speak to my mother and let her know that I’ve arrived safely. It’s been almost a month since I saw her.” I allowed my eyes to fill with tears.
Augustus looked directly at me, examining me. “I have already spoken with her. She is aware of your arrival.”
I knew he was lying. I rapid-fired questions at him, but they fell away, leaving him unscathed.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I have to talk to her. What did she say to you?”
No response.
“What’s on that flash drive? I almost died getting it here. I have a right to know.”
Nothing.
I felt a wave of rage swelling up inside me, crashing over my sadness, enveloping it. I quickly wiped away a tear.
“Ms. Knightley, this is a secure compound. We cannot risk our safety by overindulging our emotions. Your mother understands that. You would do well to follow her example. As long as it is safe to do so, you will speak to your mother soon. You have my word.”
Afterward, I sat by myself on the floor in a corner of the room. The tile felt cold beneath my legs. I buried my face in my hands, my tears marking tiny tracks down my cheeks. All those nights in the empty library, and I had never felt so alone. I tried to imagine my mother’s face, but it was blurred, misshapen, a puzzle I could no longer solve. I forced myself to consider the unthinkable—I might never see her again. The thought was nearly paralyzing, like sinking through cold mud. I wondered how long Quin had felt this way before he made an attempt to stop feeling entirely.
A cold nose touched my hand, and I looked up to see Artos’ green eyes looking back at me. He licked my face, and I couldn’t help but giggle. He plopped down beside me, giving me a long-tongued grin as I rubbed his belly and underneath his thick, nylon collar.
“He likes you,” Quin remarked from the doorway.
I wiped my face on my sleeve, embarrassed. Quin sat down next to me on the floor, our legs almost touching.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.
“Nothing.” I sounded like Quin.
“Now who’s being difficult?” His boyish laugh soothed me. For a moment, I felt like everything that had gone wrong might be made right again.
“How did you find Artos?” I asked, still stroking his soft fur.
“He found me. It was just after I escaped the Guardians. He started following me. I told him to go away, to go home, but he wouldn’t stop. After a while, I didn’t want him to go away.”
Quin reached over and rubbed Art
os’ head. Artos leaned in, content. “I guess I’m like that with people too,” Quin added, smiling at me.
“What happened today with Augustus?” I asked. “He treated you horribly.”
Quin shrugged. “He didn’t mean anything by it. He’s just trying to help me. He’s always been tough with me, but I know that he cares. If it wasn’t for him, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. He told the Resistance they could trust me. Even though I had …”
He paused. I suspected he was censoring himself. “Even though I’d been a Guardian.”
As Quin spoke, I began to understand Augustus’ power over him. Whatever Quin had done, he’d convinced himself it was unforgivable.
Even if Quin didn’t believe me, I knew I had to confide in someone. The weight of the last few days was too heavy to bear alone. I started with the flash drive and Augustus’ warning and finished with his probable lie about my mother and his cold indifference to my tears. Quin listened intently.
When I finished, he tried to comfort me. “If Augustus gave you his word, then it will happen. I trust him, Lex.”
Quin put his hand on my knee, sending a flutter through me as if he had softly blown on the dandelion pieces of my heart. It was the first time he’d touched me with intention. I noticed a small scar across his knuckles.
I wanted to ask him why he trusted Augustus—why, my favorite question—but I held back. I knew if I pushed him, the sliver of an opening in the wall of Quin would seal up again. Instead, I summoned all of my courage and placed my hand on his.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
EMPATHY
THE FOLLOWING DAY, A DARK unease settled over Resistance headquarters. I hardly left my room, but each time I did, I felt uncertainty hanging over me like a poisonous cloud. Although Augustus had been masterful in squashing the anger of the crowd, his stifling had driven it underground. Each time I entered the dining hall, I saw people huddled in tight groups, speaking purposefully. Unrest was snaking its way through the Resistance like a thick, unwieldy vine.