The Revealed (29 page)

Skylar volunteers to take the first driving shift. I sit up front while Romni and Nero occupy the back. Rory jumps in a different truck.

To occupy myself on the road, I draw out a document from my bag. It’s the email correspondence between Marg and Westerfield.

I study the words:

Please be advised that when it comes to reaching the spiret of justice for the people, I believe we can best accomplish this through what lies with the compromise of independance.

What is she talking about? Spiret of justice. Independance.

I rub my head. There are pieces here I’m just not seeing.

“What are you staring at?” Skylar asks.

“That email I showed you,” I mutter.

“Still? I really doubt Marg Lansing is buddy buddy with Westerfield in his assassination plans.”

I sigh, unable to completely disagree. But, if these past few weeks have taught me anything it’s, “You can never know who to trust.”

“You can trust me. The Revealed, that is.”

I look at him, unsure how to respond. Our eyes meet for a moment, and I notice just how handsome Skylar is.

“Get a room!” Nero pipes up.

Romni snorts.

I completely forgot they were in the backseat.

I look away. I like Skylar but don’t want him to get the wrong idea. We’re just friends. He’s been so helpful while I’ve transitioned to being with The Revealed, but my heart is still back in Capitol City with Kai.

Skylar turns around in his seat and glares.

“What?” Nero shrugs innocently.

We continue driving, following Rory until it gets dark. We have enough gas stockpiled in the back of the truck to get us to the North American Sector. There aren’t exactly gas stations in the wastelands, only long stretches of destruction. Crumbling buildings, where people once lived and worked, are now surrounded by miles of barren land. Sometimes the roads are blocked and we have to find a way around, but for the most part, the drive is flat and easy. Everything around us is completely deserted—nothing but ruins and dirt.

There isn’t anything exciting about the wastelands. I used to think they were full of mystery. They aren’t. The only words to describe these empty areas are sad, lost, and silent. Everything is still except the rumble of the truck’s engine. Even animals have abandoned these places. Once in a while, I spot a bird flying between buildings. That’s the only movement. Otherwise, it’s dead.

We pull over so Romni can drive for a bit, and I get into the backseat, leaning my head against the window and letting my eyes drift shut as I try to imagine what these places must have looked like twenty years ago—sprawling and magnificent, bustling with people and production. Each city with its own personality as though it was a living, breathing organism. I imagine a shopping center here, an apartment complex there, vivid colors instead of the dismal gray monotone that now stretches out as far as the eye can see.

I sleep for a decent amount of time because when I wake up, we are in a city. It’s still dark outside, but it’s apparent we’ve made it to the colonies. I check the clock. We’ve been traveling for over seventeen hours. My legs are stiff and my back has cramped from sitting so long.

The truck is silent. Nero sleeps next to me; it’s strange to see him without his mouth moving. Romni and Skylar are both up front.

“Where are we?” I stifle a yawn.

“Almost into Tennessee,” Skylar says.

I groan. “I have to get out of this car.”

“There should be a gas station somewhere up ahead.” Romni stares out at the street. “I’ll stop at the next one I see. We need to get gas anyway.”

Romni calls Rory, who’s driving the truck in front of us, and tells her the plan. After a few more blocks, Rory finds a station and pulls into the parking lot. I immediately hop out of the truck and stretch my legs. The night is quiet. The town is sleepy and small. Not many people are traveling at this hour. Luckily the gas station is open twenty-four hours, because I need the restroom. I grab a hat from my bag and tuck my hair underneath it. It’s the best disguise I can muster right now.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell the group.

“By yourself?” Rory stops me. “I should go, too.”

I wave her off. “I don’t need an escort.” I jog inside. The cashier watches me and grins pleasantly when I look her way. She seems friendly enough. Must be bored out of her mind working this late. She taps on the touch-screen tablet in front of her with languid fingers, browsing the Internet.

Magazines are displayed in a rack beneath the counter. Most feature Westerfield and my father with stern, debate-like game faces. I notice one features me front and center on the cover, proclaiming my missing-person status. I pull my hat down farther and head to the back of the store.

I bend over the drinking fountain and take a long gulp. My throat is so raw. It makes my skin crawl being stuck in such a small place for so long. I lean over, stretching my back again. Then I take another long drink of water and hear the chime of the bells as someone enters.

Boots clatter on the tile floor.

I peek around the corner and then slam my back against the wall.

Soldiers. The gray uniforms give them away as border patrolmen. I don’t miss seeing the pistols at their hips, either.

I tip my head around the corner again. The soldiers have both of our trucks blocked in.

“We just wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything suspicious going on here, ma’am,” one soldier with a red face says to the cashier, leaning against the counter. My heart jumps into my throat. “It isn’t often that a bunch of young kids are traveling near the wastelands this late at night, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I wouldn’t know, sir,” the cashier shrugs.

“Do you mind if we take a look around?” the other, taller soldier asks.

I press my back more firmly against the wall.

“Of course not,” she replies.

“Is anyone else in the store?” The tall officer scans the room, and I pray I’m hidden well enough that they won’t see me.

“There’s a young girl here,” the cashier tells him. “I think she just went into the restroom. If you officers want to wait I’m sure she’ll be right along.”

“Thank you,” the red-faced officer says and rolls back casually on the heels of his boots, looping his thumbs through his belt loops and facing the short hallway leading to the bathrooms. The hall where I now crouch, barely out of sight.

“Is everything alright?” the cashier asks.

“Everything’s fine,” the tall officer says, leaning comfortably against the counter.

I slip inside the bathroom. My abilities aren’t developed enough yet to get me out of this one. I’ll have to figure out a Plan B. There is a small window above the last stall. I bolt the main door and slide into the stall, locking that door behind me as well. Carefully balancing, I stand on the lid of the toilet and hoist myself up high enough to peer through the window.

It’s small. Even if I could break it, would I fit through it? If I could, I’d probably fall and break something on the other side.

There’s a pounding on the door. It’s the cashier. “Miss,” she asks, “are you alright?”

I curse under my breath before yelling, “Just a minute!”

I drop back down to the floor and wait, listening for movement. I picture the cashier standing outside with the two soldiers.

After a few more beats of silence, the cashier calls again, “Miss, I’m afraid you’re going to have to open the door.”

The time for games is over. I take a deep breath and ready my body, focusing my mind.

“I’m coming!” I frantically search for another way out.

There isn’t one.

If these soldiers recognize me, our whole mission will be compromised. It isn’t like the world has forgotten about my existence. I’ve seen the online headlines while I’ve been with The Revealed, and I’m all over them. By now, everyone knows I’ve been taken by The Revealed. If these men read any sort of news, there’s a good chance I’m not going to make it out of here.

I open the bathroom door. “Is there a problem?” I ask innocently, staring between the two soldiers, praying my hat is shielding enough of my face.

The tall one narrows his eyes and put his hands on his hips. “Are you with that group outside?”

“Yes, sir.” I nod.

“And just where are you all headed?”

Crap.

No doubt they’ve already asked the others, and I have no idea what kind of answer they gave.

“Up the coast.” I shrug, trying to give as generic an answer as possible. “It’s the election, so….”

“The other girl outside said you were heading to the city to start a catering company?” the officer on the left volunteers.

Rory would say that.

“Well, we are,” I say, shrugging. “See … we figured that with the election, it would be a good time to start a company … since the country is starting fresh and everything….” What am I saying?

I wait for a moment longer as both soldiers scrutinize me.

“Anything else?” I finally ask.

Neither answers.

“Well, I should probably get back to my friends then….”

“Actually,” the soldier on my right cuts in, “if we could just see your identification, you can then be on our way.”

ID?

I fumble around in my pockets, though I know it isn’t there. Nervously, I laugh. “I must have left it in the car.” I point outside and begin walking toward the exit.

“Miss, you know it is sector policy that you carry your identification card with you at all times.”

“Of course,” I say and nod, “like I said, it’s right out in the car.”

In reality, it’s back in my room at The Revealed’s headquarters. It wouldn’t do me any good to carry around an ID that reads “Lilith Atwood,” better to be caught with no ID.

“We’ll just follow you out,” the officer says.

“Great,” I say. “No problem.” They follow me out. As we get closer to the truck, I widen my eyes at Rory. This is bad. This is really, really bad.

“Hey Skylar,” I call, “will you get my purse for me? My ID’s in there, and these soldiers would like to see it.” I emphasize my words, hoping one of them will get the hint.

Instead, Skylar moves to the side door.

I hold my breath.

I hear movement behind me. A struggle, only it isn’t much of a fight because it ends quickly.

I turn to find both soldiers on the ground, vines twisting around their waists. They aren’t moving.

“They’re not …,” I can’t bring myself to finish my sentence.

“Of course not,” Skylar says. “We don’t kill unless we absolutely can’t avoid it.”

I nod distantly. Good to know.

Nero and Romni stand over the soldiers, dusting off their hands and wearing smug grins.

“Come on!” Skylar barks. “We have to get out of here! Now!”

As I run to the black truck, I glance back at the store window. The cashier is already on the phone, clearly having seen the melee in the parking lot. The military will probably be here in less than an hour.

I jump in next to Rory, and we speed down the highway. As soon as we’re out of sight I can’t help but curse. “That was bad.” I shake my head.

“We’ve been through worse,” Rory says. “We’ll have to see about getting you a fake ID once we get back though.”

“Now the entire military will be on us,” I sigh.

Rory snorts. “Please,” she scoffs, “they already are. We deal with this sort of thing every time we step on dry land. It isn’t new. They won’t get anywhere.”

By now the sun is rising. I glance out at the world around me. Green grass, clear water, beautiful houses. Six years ago no one thought this was possible. But we’ve come so far, accomplished so much, and now?

Today is Election Day.

Some other members of The Revealed are at a small coffee shop on the outskirts of town, waiting for us. They’re more experienced members and have made their home in Capitol City, integrating themselves into the government.

We pull into a side yard at the coffee shop that can barely be called a parking lot. It’s just red dirt. Tire tracks form worn patterns that could almost be mistaken for parking space lines, if you looked quickly.

By the time we arrive, the sun is high in the sky. People will have been awake for hours. The few with computers will have opened their electronic ballots to vote. Everybody else will go to schools, fire stations, whatever government buildings are left in their communities to cast their ballots in person.

The frosty air hits me as I step from the car, and I zip up my jacket. My nose is surely a nice shade of pink from the cold. Winter has never been my best look.

At this point, we’re tired. My rear end is sore from the long trip. I shuffle with the rest of the group into the coffee shop, and the delicious smell of the fresh brew hits us. It calls to me. My body craves the caffeine. My mission isn’t to sip hot espresso though.

A bell tinkles lightly as we step inside onto the hardwood floors. It’s quiet here. Only a few patrons huddle in corners with their coffees. The rest of the shop is dotted with fresh plants, some off to the side, others hanging from the ceiling. The large windows in the back showcase an empty outdoor patio.