The Line Book One: Carrier (16 page)

Chapter Fifteen

We arrived at Anj’s brownstone midafternoon. The sun had burned away the morning clouds, and all that was left was a red-hot sun in the sky. It baked the piles of refuse on every inch of Central.

Anj didn’t seem to notice the stench or the heat. She burst from the brownstone and flung her arms around Ric’s shoulders before we were even off the bike. I had to let go of his waist and get out of the way in a hurry, or else get clocked in the head.

“They sent out a declaration not thirty seconds ago!” She sobbed into Ric’s neck, and we awkwardly slid off the motorcycle.

“Okay, okay.” He patted then released her, taking her by the arms and leading her back indoors.

“They called Tym a terrorist. A terrorist!”

“Shh.”

I followed behind.

Ric let go of Anj and closed and bolted the door behind us.

I was surprised to see the inside of the dumpy building was actually quite fancy. It was a clean townhouse with polished floors and thick area rugs. On the table in the foyer were digital frames with photographs flashing in them. One was of two little boys and a girl standing in front of a colossal house with rolling green grass and a water fountain. The kids looked oddly familiar.

“What are we going to do?” Anj sobbed, near hysterics.

“Listen to me!” Ric shouted.

This seemed to temporarily shut her up.

“The travel orders, you still have them?” he asked her, his voice back to its normal decibel.

“Yes.”

“Go get them. Both of them,” Ric said.

“Both? But...”

“Just go get them!”

Anj’s jaw clenched and she flushed red. “Where are you going? You’re not going
with
her, are you?”

“I’m not certain her prints got washed. They pulled the data box with eleven seconds left.”

“Then give her
her
orders, drop her off at the border and come back. They don’t know you were involved. They may never know!” She was crying again. “You don’t have to disappear. You don’t!”

He shook his head. “We don’t know that for sure. There are larger things at play here. There’s something big going on, and I want to find out what it is.”

“Oh, Ric!” Anj whipped around on her heel and stormed off down the hall, I assumed to get the travel orders.

He turned to me then and apologetically shrugged. “She means well.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You can just drop me off, like she said. I get it.”

Ric eyed me curiously, and then crossed his arms across his chest. “Is that what you want?”

“No, I just...” My face grew hot as I flustered. Things were happening so fast. Still, I knew that if he had a chance to escape, I didn’t want him to give it up on my account. There had been too much death and pain already. “If you want to stay, with her...I get it. I’ll take the motorcycle or something.”

He crossed the foyer and stood in front of me. “No. I’m not leaving you until you’re safe.”

Anj appeared behind us, holding two small tablets. Her face darkened at seeing Ric and me standing so close together. “Oh, I see,” she said.

Ric backed away, apparently not wanting to give her the wrong idea.

Anj handed him the tablets. She was all business now, her face flat. “Where are you going?”

“Is Charle in town?” he asked her.

“Some conference in East, I think.”

“I’ll stay at the estate until I can figure out our next move,” Ric said.

Anj frowned. “I still think this is a mistake.”

He pocketed the tablets and then hugged her quickly. “I know.”

She looked at me then. It could have been my imagination, but I thought she didn’t seem as mad as before. “Take care of each other. Contact me when you can.”

“We will.” Ric turned toward the door, and I followed behind. As I passed the digital frames on the table in the foyer, another picture flashed across one of the screens. It was the three kids again. Only this time, they were someplace else and a little older. I recognized one of them.

“Wait,” I said, stopping midstep. “Is that you?”

Ric followed my eyes to the frame. “Yeah.”

This took me off guard, because my question had been directed toward Anj.

“I was ten in that picture, I think,” he continued.

I laughed, realizing my stupidity for having not figured it out before.

Ric and Anj seemed bewildered.

“I know. He was odd-looking, wasn’t he?” Anj asked, a small smile etched on her lips.

I tried to see pieces of Ric in the child’s face but couldn’t. The other kid, the eldest boy, had thick glasses and a pearly wide smile. “I’d say he was the odd-looking one.”

Ric’s light expression hardened and he walked forward, unbolting the door and swinging it open. “That’s Charle.”

I wasn’t sure why the mood had shifted so swiftly, but I figured it was best left to another time. Anj followed us to the door and kissed her brother on the cheek as he exited.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” She grimaced and choked back tears.

Out on the curb, Ric straddled the motorcycle and kicked up the stand. “Don’t worry.”

I got on behind him and took hold of his waist, but didn’t say anything as we pulled away.

Anj had been speaking to me.

* * *

We rode for hours. I had always known Central was the largest sector, but I hadn’t realized just how big it was until I was driving through to leave. Traffic didn’t help, but for the most part, we just rode on street after street—much of it the same.

I was emotionally and physically exhausted, and starved. Ric had insisted we couldn’t wait to leave, or stop to eat. The travel orders had to be used before Auberge decided to close the borders, if they hadn’t already, and it was too late to take the train.

Finally, at sundown, we arrived at the checkpoint on 25th and Avenue Z. Mobile trailers parked along the gate were equipped with large spotlights, which blanketed the area with piercing brightness.

Ric stopped the bike behind a row of waiting vehicles. He tilted it to one side, holding it up on one leg, and reached into his satchel to hand me a tablet. “You ready, Natalia?”

“Sure.”

“If they ask your business, say you’re a maid for the Bennett estate and I’m taking you to your new job in South. The employment agreement is in the Menu if they ask to see it.”

“A maid?”

He gave a swift shrug. “Only until we figure out if the worm worked.”

“Okay.” I handled the tablet as if it were explosive.

We moved farther up in the waiting line. Ric adjusted his satchel, pulling it off from around his shoulders and stuffing it into his lap for easier access.

Two cars ahead, the guards were yanking a family of six from a dented minivan and patting the lot of them down, including the children. Looking for what, I couldn’t tell you.

“Try and keep relaxed if they frisk you,” Ric said.

My whole body stiffened. They were going to touch me?

“Breathe in through the nose and out the mouth to control your heart rate,” he added.

I felt lightheaded at the thought.

The guards wore the same grey uniforms as the guards on the Line. The only difference was the color of the patch on their sleeves.

In my head, I heard the stomp of heavy boots on the cement walkways from within the Line walls. I felt the leering eyes of the guards as they walked beside the manager during his inspection. I shivered at the memory of standing there naked and could have sworn I’d just been blasted with the frigid waters from the infirmary hose.

My whole body jolted.

Ric leaned back into me and grabbed my hand, squeezing. I assumed he was trying to be reassuring. His touch sent me into a panic. Suddenly my skin was on fire. I ripped my hand away and wiped sweat from my brow with the back of my leather glove.

“Shh,” he whispered. “You’re all right.”

There was a commotion at the gate. Guards hauled away the father of the family, leaving the wife and kids by the minivan, horrified. The wife had her kids pile into the beat-up car and pulled the vehicle forward into the gated area by the checkpoint trailers.

The next car moved forward.

We waited, closer to the guards.

I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.

“You’re all right,” Ric said again, though I wasn’t sure whom he was trying to convince, him or me.

A hand extended from the next car in line, showing a tablet to the guard, who eyed it quickly then waved them through.

Our turn.

“Travel orders, please,” said the guard.

Ric opened the satchel in his lap and produced his tablet.

“Yours too.”

He meant me.

I handed mine out to the guard, but he was still looking over Ric’s, which was a good thing because my hand was shaking uncontrollably.

“State your business.” The guard’s eyes lingered on Ric’s tablet.

“I’m transporting this maid to the Bennett estate in South,” Ric said.

“You have a work agreement?”

“Here.” Ric pointed to his tablet and touched the screen.

The guard nodded, handed back the tablet and then took mine. He didn’t seem to notice how petrified I was.

The guard stood so close I could smell the starch from his uniform. It was the same smell as the guards from the Line. Sweat pooled in the hollow of my breasts as I suppressed the urge to scream in the guard’s face.

He touched the screen a couple times, reading, then handed it back to me. “Move along.”

Ric pulled the bike forward slowly. Then he hit the accelerator and we shot ahead. Wind whipped my face and hair but I was too terrified to enjoy it.

Once we rounded the corner and left the blaring brightness of the spotlights, my stomach unclenched but I still felt a throbbing in my head.

I was glad Ric didn’t try to shush me and tell me again that I was all right.

I was far from that.

* * *

We drove through South for another hour. It was dark, but for the brightness of the motorcycle’s headlight. From what little I could see, South was quite different from Central. There was lots of greenery. Trees, grass and bushes lined the smooth paved streets. In contrast to battered skyscrapers and mountains of crap, there were large houses with pristine lawns and tall, shadowy gates surrounding them, each with its private landfill, compost heaps and burning piles of stinking garbage. Auberge security patrols were around almost every corner, driving by the houses with large searchlights.

I remained silent throughout the rest of the ride. Truth was, I was hungry to the point of feeling sick and so lightheaded I could have passed out on the back of the motorcycle if I’d put my head down. But I didn’t figure that was a good idea, so I kept my head up and tried to absorb the manicured landscape of South.

After turning a series of corners and going down a number of residential streets, Ric pulled up a long gravel drive and stopped the motorcycle in front of a gargantuan brick wall with a wrought iron gate. He punched a few numbers on the side panel keypad, and we waited as the gate groaned and creaked open.

We continued through the gate and down the gravel road, which stopped at a circular driveway. I recognized the large water fountain in front of the mansion as the one from the picture of Anj, Ric and their brother, Charle.

Ric pulled the bike into a separate garage, which must have had a motion sensor because it opened on its own, and we slid off.

My legs were stiff. My head pounded. I could have slept on the floor. “Nice place,” I said.

Ric turned away from me. “Father came from money.”

“Is he here?”

“No, they both passed away during the pox outbreak a few years back.”

I wanted to say some sort of reassuring thing after hearing about Ric’s parents, but the expression on his face was quickly hardening, and I thought it best to wait.

He led me out of the garage, which closed on its own, to the largest house I’d ever seen in my life. It seemed as wide as an entire city block and was built of old brick, which was covered by vines. Little lights the shape of mushrooms lined the lush flowerbeds, leading us to the front door.

Ric opened the large double doors with a scan of his palm print and held it open for me.

I stood in the dark entryway until he came in from behind me and flicked a few switches on the wall. Inside was a foyer with black-and-white checkered marble floors and bright white walls with framed paintings.

I couldn’t help but gawk.

“I know,” he said. “Disgusting, isn’t it?”

“Not quite the word I was looking for.”

“I wanted to sell it, but Charle wouldn’t allow it. He’s executor of the estate—he took Father’s fortune and invested in Auberge.”

“It’s beautiful.” And I meant it.

Ric glowered and dropped his satchel on the mahogany table, which sat against a wall mural of a rolling countryside. “I hate it here.”

“You want to go someplace else?”

He shook his head. “If anybody is looking for me, this is the last place they’d think to go. Come on. There’s usually something to eat around here. You look like you’re about to collapse.”

“I am.”

“Through here.”

We walked down a wood-paneled hallway. Ric flicked switches on the walls as we went, illuminating the halls and rooms one at a time. We entered a large area, complete with leather sofas, wooden tables with clawed feet and rugs covering the marble floor. It reminded me of a larger version of Anj’s décor.

This was how he’d grown up?

The house felt more like a palace.

Opulant.

There was a slight dinge to the rooms, as if they’d been neglected and left to decay in the last few years. But the sheer size and richness left me feeling grimy by comparison. The deeper we moved into the center of the house, the more I felt swallowed by it.

“This is the parlor,” he said, tossing his hand dismissively into the air as if we’d just breezed by a landfill.

Behind the lush furnishings was a table with holes in the corners and sides. Brightly colored balls were stacked on one end. It was a game of some kind.

“Gorgeous,” I said.

He scoffed. “Decorated with funds acquired by dividends earned from Auberge.”