Catalyst (19 page)

If I ever saw Aric again, he’d regret it.

I’D KILL HIM
. Aric sicked the soldiers on us because he wanted something he could never have. I’d already killed him twelve different ways in my mind. Make that thirteen. But first…

I had to divert their attention. The soldier that arrested Enoch had paged reinforcements. A couple had come immediately, but more were on their way toward the Eastern gate. I stayed just inside the tree line, far enough inside the brush to be camouflaged, but still close to the city wall. Like I’d just told Seven, I needed to blend.

Anyone could see that I was a scrub. Even the poorest simples didn’t have tattoos. They had been outlawed in Confidence long ago. Anyone caught with one was tossed outside the walls. It wasn’t worth it for the simples. I’d gotten mine from a friend who lived along the shore and had a taste for gator. But for now, I hoped I could find something to cover them up.

My mind spun with possibilities. I was going to slip back into the city and hopefully bring down the leaders that were hell bent on destroying it.

Could I take them all down? No. I was only one person. But if I could show some of the citizens the documents I took from Anderson’s office, maybe they would fight for the freedom they were about to lose. Don’t get me wrong. The simples were ruled by the Elect, even by the Elite. But they would lose much more if they were sent to these villages.

The field that led to the drain was empty, and so were my energy stores. My legs were done. I couldn’t run any more right now if I needed or wanted to. Watching for any movement, I didn’t see anything, so I stumbled across the dirty strip of earth, peppered with patches of dried crab-grass to the sewer grate I’d found, the same one I used to enter Confidence the day I met Seven. The metal was heavier than I remembered, but it gave way, and I slipped quickly into the dank tunnel.

Simples were filtering back into the city from the Northern gate. The muffled sound of a train’s whistle sounded topside. Waiting atop the access ladder, there was no good time, it seemed. There had to be others like Enoch—who knew enough of what was going on to start a revolt against the Elect. I just had to find them. Fast.

I pushed the grate overhead. It wouldn’t give. Stepping up onto a higher rung, I used my shoulders to push against it, my legs straining. Could it be sealed shut?

Two simples walked by, one even stepping on the grate. “Help!”

“What was that?” one of them said. They rushed to the drain.

“Can you get me out of here?”

“How did you get yourself in there?” One looked at the other. Both were middle-aged, dark-skinned and stronger than oxen from the looks of their biceps.

“I have information about what the Elect are doing. I need to get it into the hands of someone who cares. There has to be a resistance among you.”

The men glanced quickly at one another mulling over my statement. Then they both grabbed hold and tugged until the metal finally gave way. The men heaved the metal to the side. “Follow us,” one ordered. They turned and led me into one of the most dilapidated parts of Confidence I’d seen.

Graffiti in all colors of the rainbow decorated the buildings’ peeling paint and crumbling brick facades. As we passed buildings into cross-streets, we dipped in and out of the last rays of bright orange sunlight, the shadows instantly erasing its warmth. They were using the alleys, which was good for me, but as much as I needed to give someone this information, I needed to make tracks back to Seven.

She wasn’t going to be happy when she saw Burnette’s Bridge. I smiled picturing her expression.

The men stopped. One disappeared inside the rusted metal door along a cinder block building that had seen better days. He reappeared a moment later and waved me inside. It was dark in there, no power and gas lamps spewed thick, tendrils of black smoke. You could smell them before your eyes adjusted to the rest of the room. An old, burgundy couch with thick upholstery polka-dotted with cigarette burns sat along the wall furthest from me. A hearth with no chimney held two matching candelabras. Though each had three candlesticks, only two white tapers were lit. A man sat at a nearby desk. Papers were piled on every available space.

A map sat in the center, marked heavily in red and black. “They said you had something of interest, scrub.”

“Depends on who you are and what you plan to do about the situation.”

He smiled revealing one gold canine. His dark gray hair was slicked back and oily. He wasn’t what I’d hoped to see, but what had I been expecting?

“
My
name is Trent. I hate the Elites, mostly the Elect. I know exactly what they are doing, though most of the people around here think I’m a conspiracy theorist and if you have what I
hope
you have, you just became my new best friend.”

I eased my bag around to the front of me and removed the files of paper, extending them to him. “I think you’ll find all you’re hoping for and more in here.”

He took the manila folders and began flipping through, sitting forward in his chair. His eyes scanned each paper. Surprise spread across his face. Brows raised; lips tilted up in a smile.

“What do you want in exchange for this?” Trent asked.

I smiled. “I don’t know you, but I hope you can take them down. Just let your guys get me back to the tunnel safely. I want to get the hell out of Confidence while I still can.”

He snorted. “Done. Take him back.” The behemoth behind me, whom I had forgotten was in the room, ticked his head toward the door.”

I could hear Trent’s chuckle mingling with the crinkling of paper as I left the room. “Never imagined a scrub would have exactly what we need.”

We retraced our steps and true to their word, the two men helped me back to the tunnel, lifted the grate and watched me disappear into the darkness. The scraping of metal as they put everything back into place echoed through the cylinder. I sloshed through the trickling water until I reached the other side.

Nothing was moving that I could see, but darkness had fallen. The sky was a deep blue, just barely hanging onto the remnants of the day before the black night consumed it. Finally, I went for it. Climbing out of the hole, I looked around and saw nothing. Replacing the metal was easy. Crouching along the dry earth was hard. But I faded into the thicker grass, the undergrowth, and thin saplings until finally the hardwoods shrouded me.

I had to make tracks. Adrenaline was my fuel. I just hoped it held out until I reached Burnette’s Bridge.

1. a meeting at an agreed time and place, typically between two people.
   Synonyms: meeting, appointment, assignation
   

verb

1. meet at an agreed time and place.
   Synonyms: meet, come together, gather, assemble
   

BURNETTE’S BRIDGE, OR
what was left of it, wasn’t exactly uplifting. The planks that were suspended between the fraying pieces of rope were dry, cracked and gray. Cason assured me that the foot bridge had held his weight many times, that it had stood longer than any of us had been alive. That wasn’t comforting.

If anything was certain in life, it was that things died. This bridge was in the winter of its life. The fact that I had learned that my family had been slowly poisoning me, trying to kill me and that I wasn’t terminally ill had been bittersweet at best. But I had life. That bridge threatened that gift.

It creaked and swayed in the wind, lit only by the moonlight directly above. The moon was two days from full, according to Cason.

“How do you know all of this stuff?”

Cason just smiled and stared up at the twinkling glitter overhead. “My mama taught me. I know all of the stars and constellations, too. A man can sail by the stars alone.”

“Are you a sailor?”

He shook his head. “I mostly stay with Mitis. But my folks fish. Mitis’s folks were trying their hand at it, too, when…well, you know what happened to them.”

“Yeah.”

Cason focused on an area to our left where the sound of a snapping branch on the ground had been heard. “You thought he’d hurt you.”

“It wasn’t that. Deep down I knew he would never hurt me. But they had me on so much medicine, I couldn’t think. I felt like I had a huge ball of cotton stuffed into my brain.”

“He loves you.”

I smiled. “I love him back.”

Cason chuckled. “I know.”

“When will he be here? It’s been a long time…”

Another rustle along the ground, this time to the right and way too close had me jumping off the forest floor. I dusted the pine needles off my back side and then rubbed my arms. It was getting cold, at least to me it was.

“You have a sweater?” Cason asked.

“Yeah.” I dug into the bag I’d packed.

“Put it on and don’t worry about Mitis. He’ll show up soon.”

“How can you be so sure, Cason?”

He snorted. “You’re here. He’ll show.”

I shrugged the sweater on and paced, wearing a path into the dirt, leaves and needles underfoot. Eventually, I got tired and decided to sit back down, leaning my back against a tall pine above me. Eventually, my head became heavy, and when I got tired of letting it bob up and down, waking me up, I fell fast asleep.

BIRDSONG.

Warmth.

The scent of pine. And smoke.

Squinting against the bright morning light, I tried to sit up, but was jerked back down into a pair of very familiar arms, one covered with bright ink. Smiling, I sank into him.

He breathed in the scent of my hair and my flesh, from head to toe, pebbled in response.

“Told you I’d meet you here,” he said on a grin.

I turned to face him, resting my head on that magical spot where arm and shoulder meet the torso. “Where did you go?”

“I snuck back into the city and gave the documents to someone who might be able to do something about this whole mess.”

My whole body stiffened. “Who did you give it to?”

“A man named Trent.”

He told me how he had entered the city, about Trent’s building, deep in the heart of the crumble zone, how the man lit up at seeing what Mitis had found.

“And what exactly did you find?”

His fingers trailed up and down my arm. “Records of the testing, the classifications, but more importantly the plans to implement the new system. I found documents that said which citizen was assigned to what village, what their job would be there.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I think the Elect planned to do all of this much sooner than any of us had realized.”

I looked at blue-green eyes. “Do you think that this Trent guy will be able to help stop the Elect’s plans?”

His eyes searched mine. “I honestly don’t know. But revolution is like fire. It begins with a spark. And I think we did the right thing by giving him the information. The people have to fight for their freedom. They can’t expect someone to do it for them. Maybe this will light a fire under them.”

I sat up. “At least you did something. Most people are too afraid to do anything at all.”

Mitis sat up beside me. We watched Cason’s torso rise and fall in sleep across the fire from us.

“Don’t get too excited. Life out here isn’t exactly easy, Seven.”

“I know. But I’m happy that I get a chance to live, and that I’ll be spending part of this life with you.”

He cocked a brow and grinned. “Part of it?”

I smiled. “Yes.”

He moved me so fast I barely got my bearings before realizing that he had pulled me over his outstretched legs. I was straddling him and looking into those eyes…and then he was kissing me, and I was kissing him.

I quickly forgot where we were. Everything blurred, even where he ended, and I began.

Cason groaned. “Good grief, come up for air. I can’t carry you both today.”

Mitis and I giggled, pulling apart from one another. When the fire was extinguished, it was time to make tracks. Cason said we were several miles from the city, but with the resources they had, the soldiers could still be looking for us. We were fugitives, but it was so worth it. I’d never tasted anything better than freedom.

And I’d never imagined a future at all. But it was stuffed full of possibilities and Mitis was in all of them.