New World Order (15 page)

Reyes leaned closer to me. “Of course Kenner trusted them.
He’s one of them!
”

A flush of anger heated my cheeks. “Don’t start,” I said through gritted teeth. “I know you hate Jack. I get it. I
really
do. So I understand if you’re having a hard time giving him credit for everything
he did for the Pit. But have you forgotten that it was Bron and a whole lot of other guards who smuggled weapons into the Pit so we could defend ourselves? Stood guard over Alliance meetings to protect us from being discovered by Domers? Risked their lives to help us? There are a lot of good people from the Dome who don’t deserve your hatred.”

Reyes’ face creased into a scowl. “Are you kidding
me? A few good bourge and I’m supposed to forgive and forget a lifetime of
slavery
? Of taking their
beatings
? Of not being able to do a damn thing but watch them kill us!” He turned to Summer. “How about you? Have
you
forgiven them?”

Summer’s mouth fell open, and she took in a sharp breath. Her complexion paled beneath the rosy glow the sun and wind had bestowed on her over the past few days.
Angry tears stung my eyes as I shook my head in disbelief at Reyes’ utter callousness. I glared at him. “How could you?” Moving toward Summer, I wrapped an arm around her. A tear slid from beneath her glasses.

Reyes pinched his brow with his thumb and middle finger and swore under his breath. He stepped toward us. “I’m sorry,” he said to Summer. Elbowing me out of the way, he pulled her in
for a hug. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

Summer nodded against his chest. “I know.” She put her hands on his chest and pulled back to look first at him and then at me. “You two have to stop fighting. You were at each other’s throats most of last night, and now you’re squabbling over who was right or wrong to trust those idiots back there.”

Reyes took a step away from her, mouth opened to make
some retort, but Summer held up her hand to stop him.

“It’s my turn to talk, and after your last comment, you owe me.”

Reyes closed his mouth, looking contrite.

“I understand why you hate the bourge, Reyes. And you know that I hate them so much I almost killed myself in a bottle over it. But after living with Sunny, Jack, and Ted and putting up with their bourge friends stopping by for
visits, I came to the realization that not everyone from the Dome is like Holt. So I understand why Sunny thought she could trust those Domers.” She turned to look at me. “And I also know that not everyone is like Jack, and you need to be a little more cautious.”

It wasn’t really what I wanted to hear from my best friend, but it was what I needed to hear. I could feel the heat of my embarrassment
as I silently admitted she was irritatingly right. I flicked a glance at Eli and Jin-Sook to see how they were taking our argument and noticed Jin had her head tilted as if listening for something.

“What?” I asked her.

Her lips pursed into a
ssshhh
,
and she headed deeper into the forest. We pulled our hoods up and ran after her, finding a stand of four trees grouped closely together. We all
stood still, and within minutes Hayley, Alex, and the rest of the team whizzed past on their bikes, heading south. Reyes’ hand curled into a fist as he watched them go.

“I’m glad they’re gone,” Reyes said.

I let go of some of my anger. “Me too.”

“That makes all of us,” Jin said.

“By the way,” Summer said to Reyes, “what was going on between you and what’s-her-name? It looked like you
two might have met before.” Her mouth turned up into a coy smile as she looked at Reyes. “And she wanted you real bad too.”

Reyes’ face reddened. A smile sprang to my lips despite the fact I was still upset with him. I feigned wiping something from the corner of my mouth to hide it. Even though I didn’t like Hayley, her blatant interest in Reyes was kind of funny. But more importantly, it was
good to see Summer being her old self again. For the past ten months, any comment that even hinted at her time with Holt had been enough to send her into a dark, silent mood with a bottle in hand.

Despite his obvious discomfort, Reyes smiled at her. I got the impression he was thinking the same thing I was. “Hmphf,” he breathed out. “More like she wanted an expendable urchin around to save
her ass if she needed it.”

I knew Reyes well enough to know that there was something he wasn’t telling us.

Jack

The red-hot branding iron seared my skin, melting through the layers and sending the smell of burning flesh wafting up my nose. Clenching my teeth, I hissed through the pain, refusing to give in to the scream bubbling up the back of my throat.
No matter how much it hurt, it didn’t compare to the anguish of watching the kids being branded, to listening to their agonizing shrieks while their parents begged and pleaded with the recruiters for mercy. I wouldn’t add to their terror with my own cries.

The cool spring breeze rushed in to blow against my seared tattoo the second the iron was taken away. It would have been soothing if the
pain weren’t so intense. Someone grabbed me by the shoulder and led me away from the firepit. Behind me I heard a sizzling and Naoki’s intake of breath as he was branded. I stole a glance over my shoulder. Talon was right behind him doing his best to look brave.

A sizable crowd had clustered around, although the waist-high fence surrounding us kept them at bay. Their excited murmurings, outbursts
of laughter and occasional applause were unnerving. How could an entire town, which I estimated a population of around three hundred, get behind the capture and branding of innocent people? Yet as I looked upon the scarred faces of the congregation, I realized I had my answer. In Hollywood’s words, these people had been “saved” too.

After every recruit had been branded, we were categorized
like inventory and organized into separate groups. The women were either labeled as breeders or servants, but there seemed to be a broader range for the men that included plasticmines, labor and army. Only five of us were given the designation
Father Ryder’s Household
: me, Naoki, Talon and two young girls, one of whom looked to be about fourteen years old and the other around seven. Once we had
all been labeled and grouped, we were led out of the fenced area. The villagers parted and maintained their distance while they applauded and shouted
welcome to all of us.

Our small group was taken around the back of the big house, shown to a small shed without windows, and ordered in. Some light filtered through the cracks between the logs, illuminating the empty little room. The two girls
ran into the far corner as if it were some kind of safe zone. They huddled together, their eyes wide with fear as they looked back and forth between us and the recruiters standing in the doorway. The recruiters were just about to close the door on us when someone shouted, prompting one of the men to reach in and grab me by the arm. He yanked me out, slammed the shed door, and locked it, sealing me
off from Naoki and Talon.

I was escorted to the back door of the big house and taken inside. As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, a mix of aromas hit my nose: wood smoke, roasting meat, and spices. A shiver went down my spine as the heat from the wood stove enveloped me. How long had it been since I was warm?

Three women—two of them pregnant—and a young girl were preparing food at a heavy
wooden table. Out of habit, I gave them a polite nod, which they didn’t return. Without looking at us, the one woman who wasn’t pregnant pointed to a doorway, and my escort pulled me there. A large plastic basin full of water stood in the middle of the room. Unsheathing a knife from his belt, my guard cut my plastic binds. Blood rushed into my numb hands, quickly turning the tingling into a painful
ache.

“Any trouble, and I’ll kill you,” my escort said. He motioned toward the tub. “Strip and get in.”

The same woman came into the room carrying a wooden tray bearing linens and green sprigs. The thought of escape flashed through my mind, but I ruled it out. Naoki and Talon were still locked in the shed, and it was doubtful I could get out of there and spring them before someone got me.
Then there were the pregnant women and the little girl. I didn’t want them to get hurt. Without much choice, I began to strip.

I wasn’t timid about being naked in front of people. The moment Leisel and I were engaged, the day I became the heir to the presidency, I was given my own valet. It was weird at first, but I got used to it after a while. As the heir, I was expected to be impeccably groomed
and camera-ready at all times. I told myself that this was no different.

Naked, I stepped into the tub. The water was warm, not hot, which I appreciated after having had a low body temperature for the past several days. How many days had it been since my capture? Ten? Eleven? I’d lost count. The woman dropped the green sprigs into the water, and the fragrance of herbs rose up with the steam.
Next, she gave me a square of loosely-woven linen and a piece of soap. At least I think it was soap. It kind of smelled like ashes. I rubbed it vigorously on the cloth, and a little lather came up.

Okay, so it was kind of weird that they stayed and
watched
me take a bath. My valet had always left.

As I washed, the young girl I had seen earlier came in with an armful of clothes, put them on
a chair, and picked up my dirty discarded ones from the floor. It wasn’t surprising that they wanted my clothes after all of Hollywood’s bragging. What they hoped to gain by having them I wasn’t sure though. Maybe Ryder wanted them for himself. The boots in particular would make a useful addition to his wardrobe.

When I finished scrubbing myself clean, the woman beside the tub picked up the
green sprigs and began to rub my bare shoulders with them. Before I even knew that I had done it, my hand wrapped around her wrist to stop her.

My guard unsheathed his knife again. “Hey!”

I broke contact with her and held both my hands up in a show of surrender. “I don’t like being touched. I can take care of myself,” I said.

The woman looked at my guard for approval before she dropped
the sprigs back into the water. She handed me a towel, pointed to the clothes on the chair, and left the room.

As much as I didn’t enjoy bathing in front of an audience, it felt good to be clean. I dressed in the ill-fitting, handmade beige clothes left for me. The pants were baggy and too short and the shirt too tight across the chest. There were no shoes. I missed my boots already. As soon
as I was dressed, my guard led me back through the kitchen and into a small room with two chairs on either side of a thick wooden door. He knocked, and a voice bid us to enter. The door opened to reveal Ryder sitting at a table.

He stood, looking straight at me. “Please. Come in.” He waved my guard away with a, “Thank you, Fadi. That will be all right now.” But Fadi looked a little hesitant
to leave. Ryder ignored him and extended his hand to me. “We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Father Joseph Ryder, but most folks call me Father.”

Fadi left, closing the door behind him. I was guessing he wouldn’t stray too far.

My wrists were stiff and sore from being tied up for so long, and I had to force my hand to straighten in order to accept his handshake. He didn’t miss a thing.
He squeezed tight when we shook, and I ignored the pain, keeping my face expressionless. “Jack Kenner,” I said.

There was a hint of surprise on his face as I said my name, which he quickly covered with a smile as he motioned for me to take a seat. My eyes strayed to a pile of folded clothes on his desk. They were mine. I sat in the offered chair, and a moment of silence stretched between us.
He was scrutinizing me, watching my every move, and I realized I had been staring at my clothes. I shifted my gaze slightly to the left, my eyes falling on an unusual-looking potted plant adorning one corner of his table. Broad green leaves draped over the side of the pot, and a single stem shot up from the center to support several scarlet blooms. Each flower had two petals that fanned out like
wings and a labellum that resembled a miniature human. The effect was that each flower looked like a man with broad scarlet wings.

“Pretty,” I said with dry sarcasm.

“And deadly,” he said. “This plant is the source of devil’s blood.”

“I figured.”

Ryder turned and walked back to his chair behind the table, sending up a swirl of dust motes in the stream of light coming through the windows.
The windows didn’t provide a clear view to the outside; the panes were made of such thick plastic that I could only make out blurred shadows. Handwoven draperies hung on either side of the windows, and artwork adorned the walls, giving the room a homey feel. Two wooden bookcases lined one wall of the office. One case was stacked with plastic boxes bearing handwritten labels; the other case was
jam-packed with books. Thick spines, some with their titles and authors still legible, most torn and faded. A few titles on perfectly preserved spines caught my attention:
Thermal Depolymerization
,
Guide to Plastic Recycling
, and
Plastic Smithing for Dummies.

My eyes shifted to Ryder, who was leaning back in his chair, watching me intently. “See something you like?” he asked.

Was there a hidden
meaning in his question? “Just admiring your books.”

“Any book in particular?”

I shook my head, not really trusting this man but not knowing what he was up to either. “
Plastic Smithing for Dummies
looks pretty riveting.”

A forced grin joined his intent gaze. “You can read.” It was a statement, and not a friendly one.

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked, wondering what punishment I could expect.
It was obvious this guy was testing me, analyzing me, and I was at a disadvantage because I didn’t know the parameters of the test.

“It’s a rare thing.” He sat forward in his chair, motioning to the pile of my clothes. “I’ll make sure these are washed.” He ran his hand across my folded t-shirt. “They are finely made. And you said you found them?”