Rebellion (16 page)

Without even taking the time to take that dip into the ocean or change my clothes, I grab my gun again and walk straight to the gates.

Every step is a fresh agony in my stomach, but I push the pain aside. I refuse to show the guards how much they hurt me. They'll never let me through if they think I'm a pushover. Which I might literally be if they push in the right spot.

The guards come into view and I recognize them. Not because they're the same as the ones from yesterday, but because I know them. They're brothers. I've taken their family meat from time to time when their father was sick and couldn't hunt.

They stare at me before the one on the right—Nate—says, “Gavin? Is that really you? The mayor said you were dead. That you died in the Outlands.”

“Sorry to be a disappointment,” I say with a smile, then hold out my fist. I'm surprised the mayor didn't announce my return. You'd think with everything going on, he'd want everyone to know I was back and to avoid me at all costs.

They both bump their fists against mine with a smile, but then Seth—the oldest—frowns. “We're not supposed to let you through.”

I lift an eyebrow. I hate to pull this card, but I'm going to. For my family. “You're not going to let me through, after everything I did to help you when your father got sick?”

“We want to, Gavin. Really we do. But Mayor St. James told us no one is to pass through.”

“No one?” I laugh. “What about him?”

They look to each other. “Well, yeah, of course.”

“And his son?”

“Well, yeah, I suppose he'd want us to let
him
through.”

“What about someone who
knows
something about his son?”

They exchange a look again. “I don't know, Gavin. If we let you through, our family…” Nate trails off, but his gaze is directed at my house. Even though you can't see where the fire was, I'm sure word has gotten around that there was one, and who was responsible.

I sigh. “I get it, guys. But if I was here and you were me, I'd let you through and you know it. Besides, what do you think the mayor'll do if he finds out you didn't let me through when I was coming willingly to tell him what I know about his son?”

They glance at each other and I laugh. “Come on, guys, you both know I can take the both of you, at the same time, without even breaking a sweat.” I'm not entirely sure about that at the moment, but I'm not about to let them know that. “I did it enough when we were kids. How about you let me through and you can say I forced you if it comes to be a problem?”

They exchange a look, then they both glance at the bruises and blood on my face, before nodding and stepping to the side. “If it's about Asher, I'm sure he'll want to know,” Seth finally says.

I step through, nodding my thanks, and they go back to leaning against the wall as if nothing happened.

I follow the same path as yesterday, and again it's just as quiet. No one's out. All the windows are drawn. Even the metalsmith's door is shut, though I can hear him banging around in there.

I step into the offices again and Asher's mom immediately stands. I ignore the look of sympathy she gives me. I know I look like shit. I also know I don't care. The door to the mayor's office is open, so I walk calmly to her desk and place my hands on the top, leaning toward her. I want it to be an intimidating move—in case the mayor's watching somehow—but it's really just to take the pressure off my stomach.

“I'm here to see Mayor St. James about the possible whereabouts of his son and my
former
girlfriend, Evelyn.”

She gives me a quick smile and a nod, before turning to the mayor's door. Even though I'm sure he heard me, he doesn't come. He's going to make me come to him.

Fine.

She announces me and he says, “He may come.”

Without waiting for her to gesture me over, I step past her, making sure I show no visible pain as I step into his office. Asher's mom closes the door quietly behind me.

The mayor lifts an eyebrow. “I see that you didn't even take the time to clean up after last night.”

“There was no need.”

“So you're finally going to admit you know where my son is.” It isn't a question and I don't even bother to answer it.

“I want you to swear that everything you promised me and my family yesterday will be followed through. I don't care about living in the city. We can have our riches here in the village.”

The mayor shrugs. “Of course. I'm a man of my word. You tell me where my son is, I give you everything I promised.”

“Your word means shit to me. I want it in writing.” This I thought about all night. I have to have
something.
He may be able to revoke it later, even if it's in writing, but that'll take awhile. Long enough for me to figure something else out.

I hope.

The mayor's eyes flash and his cheeks turn red. “How dare you talk to me like that? I can take down that wreck of a house just as fast as I took out your pump house and everything in it.”

“Mayor, I have no doubts that you mean what you say, but you can't keep me or my family here. Our house means nothing to any of us. Burn it down and you lose the only thing keeping us here, and any chance of you finding out where Asher may be.”

He narrows his eyes, but finally yells, “Caroline!”

She rushes in, her gaze barely grazing me before focusing on her husband. “Yes?”

“Take a note.”

She immediately pulls out a pen and notepad.

“I, Stephen St. James, Mayor of Black Star Cove, and due representative of Rushlake City, do from this moment forward provide the Hunter family with full first-class citizenship status and all the benefits, advantages, and boons that that status entails. They will be sponsored personally by myself and under my protection. An account will be opened in their name at the bank in Black Star Cove and another in Rushlake City, where there shall be money deposited to provide for them and their family. This agreement shall be binding upon and inure to the benefit of the aforesaid parties hereto and their respective heirs, successors, and permitted assigns. And shall go into effect immediately.” He glances at me. “Does that sound acceptable to you, Mr. Hunter?”

“Quite.” What I understood of it, anyway.

“Very well.” He turns to his wife. “Make sure to have that drafted on my letterhead and back to me post haste so that I may sign it into effect.”

She rushes out and he gestures for me to sit across from him. “I've fulfilled my end of the bargain.”

 

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

S
UBJECT 121
, E
VELYN
W
INTERS
:

Failure to follow a direct order, resulting in the unnecessary deaths of ten Citizens and one Enforcer. Evaluation shows Conditioning has failed yet again. Recommend immediate disposal.

ETA: Mother has taken over control of said subject.

—
D
R.
F
RIAR,
INCIDENT REPORT FOLLOWING MASSACRE AT FESTIVAL

Evie

I sit in the maintenance tunnel above the crematorium, looking through a grate at Joseph—a boy I once knew, but remember nothing about. The memories of him are like words written in sand and washed away by the rising tide. And while I feel sorrow, and regret, no tears come.

I want to cry. For him. For his match. For the children they'll never have and the life that wasn't just lost, but tossed away like so much trash, but ultimately I can't. I can only stare through the grates with remorse and the need for revenge flowing through my veins.

When I left Asher back in the Caverns, I had no clue where I was going. I just knew I had to get away. From him. From Nadia. From
everyone
in that Cavern. Because if I didn't leave right then, I would have been exactly what I hated. Mother's puppet. Her murderer. An Enforcer.

The girl pulling that trigger on that stage could have been me. If it hadn't been for a chance encounter, or a moment of clarity, or even possibly what could be considered a wrong choice, that could have been me standing there next to Joseph. The one pulling that trigger with no emotion. It could
still
be me. If I'm not careful. If I don't keep control on those programmed instincts. If I allow myself to forget who I really am.

I tense as I hear the echoes of grunts, and the sliding sounds of someone drawing closer. If it's Enforcers, I'm in trouble. A
lot
of trouble. Because of how I feel now, with the need for vengeance and retribution searing my veins. I know I won't be able to stop myself from giving in to the monster inside me, begging for an opportunity to claw its way out. If it's a Guard, I might have a problem. If it's a Citizen, I don't know what I'll do. I guess it depends on what that Citizen does.

The sounds come closer and I move until I'm in a better position to do something other than sit here and die.

I hold my breath, but the echoes fade and I realize they came from somewhere else in the vast expanse of tunnels. But they remind me that I need to be more careful. More vigilant. I'm not the only one who uses these tunnels.

The door to the crematorium squeals open and two Enforcers enter, dragging what can only be Joseph's body between them. I watch, shaken, as they strip Joseph of his clothes—of his one last dignity—and then toss him, without any sort of care, into the furnace. As if being a traitor is contagious and they might catch it if they touch him for too long. They toss in his clothes and some sort of other linen after them.

I can hear their thoughts as if they were mine, because I've been there. I've done this. Because that's what Enforcers do. We're nothing more than robots made with flesh and blood instead of metal and wire. To them this man is a traitor and deserves no respect or care.

They close the door to the furnace with a slam; the locks thud into place, causing me to flinch. Then they leave. They don't look back. They don't stop or even pause to think about what happened. They simply walk out, the door clanging shut behind them.

I don't move, however. I sit there for a long time—longer than I should—before I glance one last time at the furnace. In several hours, his body will be nothing more than ash and bones. Then his bones will be ground up into dust and used as fertilizer. The thought makes me a little queasy. But another part of me says bone ash is the best fertilizer. The best crops always come from plants fertilized with bone ash.

The idea of that, and the fact that I even thought it, sickens me. I'm disgusted with myself, but a new wave of indignation and loathing sweeps through me. Mother put those thoughts there. Mother made me. Made those girls. Pushed the metaphorical button on Joseph's murder. And Mother needs to be the one who pays.

I push up to a kneeling position and crawl back the way I came until I get to the ladder. I descend it and carefully remove the crawl-through door, peering out into the other set of maintenance tunnels. And then more and more. I'm hyperaware of my surroundings as I make my way around in the labyrinth. I refuse to be the cause of any more deaths. Only when I'm certain that I've shaken anyone who may have followed me and gotten them thoroughly lost do I take the tunnels that lead to the Caverns.

*   *   *

Nadia is waiting when I get back. Her normally agitated face is even more so when I finally see her in the light of the Caverns. “Now is not the time for a tantrum. People here have been worried about you.” Her eyes travel from my head to my shoes. “You are still covered in blood from before.”

I raise an eyebrow, because I'm pretty sure when she said “people” she meant herself. But I don't call her out on it. I just keep walking to the half-constructed buildings.

“I can wash later; right now I need everyone who's in these Caverns and willing to be an active member of the Underground to meet me in the room with all the Surface artifacts.”

She frowns. “Why?”

I stop at the entrance to the building that houses the artifact room. “Because I've grown weary of Mother's games.” I step into the building and head directly to the room, taking a seat at the head of the table.

I still have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm going to do something.

It only takes a few minutes for everyone to arrive. That's because there's precisely three people who do. Nadia. Asher. Evangeline.

“Where are the rest of the people?”

Nadia refuses to meet my eyes when she replies, “They do not wish to be involved. Things here are tough enough. They feel you are not what Father promised. They do not wish to bring the wolves to their door without a shepherd. So to speak.”

“So there are only four of us?” My voice pinches with a panic.

“Seven,” Evangeline says. “Father, Tate, and Kara aren't here.”

Seven. I have seven people. Out of at least forty.

Asher leans over. “No one said this was going to be easy.”

I stare at him. Anger practically steaming from my ears. “No one said
anything
to me. They just
assumed
I'd come in, take down Mother, and then everything would be wonderful after that.”

“I did not think that.” Nadia shrugs when everyone looks over at her. “I thought you were too young.”

I toss my hands in the air. “Well, you're wrong and so are they. This
isn't
going to be easy. And I was a fool for believing Father that it would be. But Mother isn't as infallible as she thinks she is. She literally killed two people over a list.”

“So?” Asher asks. “She kills people all the time.”

“Yes!” I say. “But she usually does it quietly. Like she tried with Dr. Moreau and the nurse. Not so publicly. But what we're doing is forcing her hand. We need to keep doing it.”