Stung (17 page)

Mark's mind reeled as he drove the motorcycle through the old neighborhood. He wanted to tell his aunt about John's death and see if he could help her, but after tracking her through various GC emergency shelters, Mark discovered she had been transferred to the same furniture store, which had been converted to a makeshift hospital, where Ryan had died. The man at the front wouldn't let him through, but Mark found a back entrance and searched a filing cabinet filled with patients' names. He found his aunt's name on a list of patients. She had died four days earlier.

Mark found the morgue and asked to see his aunt's body. “I'm sorry, son,” the attendant said, “but a person unclaimed for that long is cremated.”

Mark drove back to his aunt's house. There, he watched the Meeting of the Witnesses on Judd's laptop. It was hard to concentrate. He felt guilty for not being with his aunt when she needed him.

Not knowing what to do next, Mark decided to visit Z at the gas station. Z fed Mark and gave him a place to sleep. They talked.

“You haven't always seen eye to eye with Judd and Vicki, have you?” Z said.

“They don't see eye to eye with each other.”

“But you were hooked up with the militia,” Z said.

“I should have listened to them,” Mark said, “but this is different. I don't feel like I've got a place there.”

Z nodded. “I've been reading in the Bible about Paul and Barnabas. They disagreed and had to separate, and there were bad feelings, I guess. But later they worked it out.”

Mark tried to sleep but couldn't. He joined Z early the next morning to watch the coverage of the meeting in Israel. By Friday night he had made his decision.

“I'm going back to see if I can hash it out with them,” Mark said.

Early Saturday morning Mark headed back to the schoolhouse. At 9:00
A.M.
he wound through the small town near the access road. He noticed a GC security vehicle and several officers.

Mark rode as close as he could without drawing attention. Several townspeople stood watching.

“What's going on?” Mark said to an older man.

“They caught some girl,” the man said. “Been talking on the radio for quite a while. They got her in the back of the squad car.”

Mark rode past the officers and stole a glance at the car. The door was slightly open. Mark gasped. Melinda sat in the backseat, crying. Her hands were cuffed.

15

MARK
parked his cycle and walked past a few stores. He wondered if Melinda had told the peacekeepers about the Young Trib Force and their hideout. He studied shop windows as he listened to the squawking radios.

“Still waiting for the fingerprint ID,” one officer said.

“She sure looks like the photo,” another said. “Wonder how she wound up here?”

Mark walked into a small grocery store and watched the GC officers through the window. He bought a pack of gum and asked the girl at the cash register what happened.

“She ran in here out of breath,” the girl said. “Real dirty. Looked like she'd spent the night in the woods. I figured it was one of those women who escaped from the GC prison I've been hearing about on the news.”

“There was a breakout?” Mark said.

“Yeah. One of those reeducation camps or whatever you call them. When that girl saw the squad car go by, she freaked. Hid behind one of the aisles back there. I went outside and flagged 'em down.”

“You're pretty much a hero,” Mark said.

The girl blushed. “I didn't do nothin'. Just figured she had to be guilty of something, the way she acted.”

Mark thanked the girl and left. A small bell rang as he opened the door, and the Peacekeepers glanced at him. Mark walked the other way.

The radio squawked. “Here's the report,” a man said. “We have a negative on the downstate facility. Your girl is MM-1215, Melinda Bentley.” The man read off more information about Melinda. “You're instructed to interrogate, then carry out GC order X-13.”

The peacekeepers looked at each other. “Can you repeat that?”

“Interrogate and carry out an X-13. Over.”

The peacekeeper sighed. “Ten four, we copy. Out.”

Mark didn't know what an X-13 was, but it didn't sound good for Melinda. He turned the corner and walked his motorcycle closer. He wanted to hear the GC question Melinda.

“We know who you are,” a peacekeeper said. “Who's been hiding you?”

“I was staying with some friends,” Melinda said.

“Who?”

Her handcuffs clinked as Melinda pushed the hair from her eyes.

“I don't know their names.”

“Where?”

Melinda shrugged. “Talking to you isn't going to do me any good. I know what's going to happen.”

Mark darted into the grocery store and handed the girl behind the counter a large bill.

“What's this for?” she said.

“You'll see,” Mark said. He walked into the street and faced the squad car. The peacekeepers leaned against the open door. Mark got Melinda's attention and motioned for her to get out of the car. She seemed to understand. Mark returned to the cycle.

“I'm tired of sitting here,” Melinda said.

“Answer our questions and we'll take you for a long walk,” a peacekeeper said, chuckling.

“Let me at least stretch my legs,” Melinda said. “Then I'll tell you anything you want to know.”

As soon as she was out of the car, Mark started the cycle. He grabbed a loose brick and pulled into the street. As the peacekeepers turned, he threw the brick through the front window of the store.

“Hey!” one of the peacekeepers shouted. Both moved toward Mark.

“It slipped,” Mark yelled.

“We saw you! Now get off your bike!” the second peacekeeper said, unlocking his gun holster.

Melinda inched around to the other side of the squad car. Mark gunned the engine and raced past the peacekeepers, who shouted at him and drew their weapons. He barreled around the car, and Melinda jumped on behind him.

Mark shot down an alley as gunfire erupted.

“I can't hold on!” Melinda shouted.

“Put your hands over my head,” Mark shouted.

With the cuffs still on, Melinda slipped her hands over Mark's head and worked them down to his waist.

“Did you tell them about us?” Mark shouted.

“No!”

The GC squad car's siren blared behind them.

“Hang on,” Mark said. “This is going to be some chase!”

Judd awoke late in the afternoon in Israel. Jamal stood in the doorway. “You have a visitor.”

Judd woke Lionel. From a tiny monitor mounted near the door Judd saw someone pushing the buzzer on the first floor.

“Do you know him?” Jamal said.

“That's Samuel,” Judd said. “His dad works for the GC.”

Jamal shook his head. “I cannot allow him here. It is too great a risk.”

“If he's the one who sent us, why can't we trust him?” Judd said.

Jamal studied the screen as Lionel said, “Maybe it was their plan to let us escape Samuel's house. To find this place. They may want you more than they want us.”

Judd had to admit it was a possibility. “Still, something tells me Samuel's okay.”

“Can we get outside some other way and meet him on the street?” Lionel said.

“There is a way,” Jamal said, “but I can't let you endanger the lives of those we are hiding.”

“We'll get outside and follow him to make sure it's safe,” Judd said.

Jamal handed Judd a key, then took them through a corridor to the freight elevator. “This comes out at the back of the building. Go to the bottom floor, the garage. You can walk around to the front from there, but I warn you, watch out for anyone who looks like they're with the Global Community. If they catch you, you must never tell them about this place.”

The garage was dingy and dark. Judd and Lionel hid behind bushes as they approached the front. No one was at the door.

“Guess he gave up,” Lionel said.

Judd glanced both ways. “Want to split up?”

“Let's stick together,” Lionel said.

They ran north three blocks. Lionel grabbed Judd's arm. Samuel stood in a nearby phone booth. Judd and Lionel approached slowly and listened.

“Please pick up the phone,” Samuel said. “I sent two people to you yesterday. I need to talk with them. Their names are Judd and Lionel. They think—”

Samuel turned and saw them. He hung up the phone. “I am so glad to see you. We must talk.”

“Where's your dad?” Judd said.

“At work,” Samuel said. “He let me stay home from school because of last night.”

“Do you ever go to school?” Judd said skeptically.

“I know a café nearby,” Samuel said.

Samuel led them to the café. The waiter seated them in a secluded spot inside. Judd and Lionel kept an eye on the street. “We're almost out of cash,” Judd said as he glanced at the menu.

“Don't worry. I will pay for this,” Samuel said.

“One more favor,” Judd said. “Unbutton your shirt.”

“What for?” Samuel said.

“Just do it,” Judd said.

When Judd was sure Samuel was not wearing a bug, he relaxed a little. The waiter came with their food, and Lionel and Judd ate hungrily. Samuel described what had happened after the two had escaped.

“They questioned me for an hour,” Samuel said. “They wanted to know everything I knew about you. I told them the truth about meeting you the first time, but I lied about the video. I'm sorry.”

“Did they connect us with Mr. Stein?” Lionel said.

“That is why I risked coming here,” Samuel said. “I had to tell them enough so they would believe me. They have interrogated Mr. Stein about you.”

“They're still holding him?” Judd said.

“I overheard my father's phone call. Mr. Stein admitted he knew you both, but would say nothing further. The GC have beaten him severely.”

“They beat him?”

“He is still in custody, but you must not try to help him escape. They are expecting you. I will get word to you when he is released.”

“We can't tell you about the place we're staying,” Lionel said.

Samuel nodded. “But I must know how to get you if something should happen.”

Judd worked out a code with Samuel to use when calling Jamal's apartment. If Mr. Stein was freed or if he needed Judd and Lionel, Samuel would leave a message in code.

“We also need to know who was killed last night at the airport,” Judd said.

“My dad will know,” Samuel said. “I don't think the information has been released to the media.”

As they finished their meal, Samuel grew quiet. Judd still didn't know whether to trust him, but so far, his story checked out. “What's the matter?” Judd said.

“There's another reason I came to see you,” Samuel said. “It's about the meeting last night and some things the rabbi said.”

Mark didn't want the GC squad car to follow him to the hideout, so he backtracked to the expressway. Most of the highway still had large gaps in it from the earthquake. Cars poked along.

The squad car was close when they first made it to the highway, but Mark rode on the edge of the pavement and dodged the slower cars.

“Where are you going?” Melinda shouted over the noise of the bike and the honking cars around them.

“Just hang on,” Mark said.

Suddenly, Mark veered left and into the median. The bike slid sideways, but Mark regained control. The squad car followed, mud flying into the air behind it. Mark shot over the median and across the oncoming cars on the other side of the highway. Melinda screamed. A semitrailer swerved to miss them and hit another car, sending it careening toward the squad car.

Mark slowed as they went over an embankment he had seen earlier in the day. He drove through the edge of a cornfield and onto a small, country road.

“Are they still following us?” Mark yelled.