The Revealed (30 page)

“Right on time.” Zared, a veteran member of The Revealed, steps up to greet us. He has a history of successful missions, and I feel better that he’s on this trip. Skylar told me on the way that last he heard, Zared was in the Japanese Sector, scouting for new members. It’s comforting to know The Revealed take this mission seriously enough that they called one of their best to help. Hell, it’s comforting just looking at Zared. He’s all muscle, and even his boulder of a shaved head looks like it could take a person out. The thing about The Revealed is that most members are deceptively fragile-looking, myself included. We’re barely adults, and most of the group was malnourished until they became one of the Taken Eighteen. Sure, they’ve been training their bodies and have grown strong, but they still don’t look like fighting machines. Zared looks like a threat.

“Shall we?” Zared extends his hand toward the door, allowing us to lead the way. “Cara’s already outside prepping.”

“Of course she is,” Nero scowls. He clearly wants the caffeine as well. For once, I appreciate his frustrated quips.

I stare longingly back at the coffee machine and try to get one more whiff of the freshly roasted beans before sauntering back into the crisp air. I wrap my arms protectively around my chest.

Zared leads us out to his SUV where his partner, Cara, is moving a stack of gear from the front seat to the trunk. She’s dressed in leathery black, a sleeker uniform than I’m used to seeing, but the stamp of The Revealed over the heart distinguishes the garment. She pulls on a vest that covers the symbol and flicks her long red locks over her shoulder.

Sometime today, Westerfield will try to have my dad and mom shot. My stomach heaves. Suddenly, I’m glad I didn’t have the coffee. With all these nerves, the last thing I need is an added jolt of caffeine right now.

Zared takes off his gloves and throws them in the passenger seat of his car. “Let’s get started then,” he says to our group.

Nero raises an eyebrow. “Let’s.”

Zared ignores him. “Who’s heading your group?”

Eyes shift toward Rory.

Zared looks her over. “I should have known.”

She shrugs. “We didn’t really appoint anyone.” And the way her cheeks light up, I can tell she definitely doesn’t see Zared as a threat.

“Don’t disregard your talent,” Zared says in a way that only makes her blush deepen. They’ve obviously met before.

Rory catches me watching their beguiling exchange. I raise an eyebrow,
Another boy, Rory? Really?

She rushes to explain. “Zared was my mentor when I first arrived at the facilities.”

Mentor. Right.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Nero holds up his hands, never missing an opportunity to speak his mind. “Mentor?”

“Zared’s the one who took me,” Rory explains, her cheeks still red. Rory never blushes. Ever. She’s always the collected, confident one around boys.

“That’s right.” Zared puts a hand on Rory’s shoulder. I catch the tenderness there too. “And who are you?”

“Nero.” He sticks out his meaty hand.

Zared envelops it in his own, brusquely.

“And who are these other crew members?” Zared looks over our group. We seem so motley compared to Zared and Cara, who embody composure and professionalism.

“This is Skylar, Nero, Romni, and—” Rory motions toward me, “our newest addition, Lily.”

“Lily Atwood,” Zared says, nodding. “I heard you were a candidate. I expect you’ll do great things with The Revealed. Pleasure. Now,” Zared walks around to the driver’s side of his large black SUV, “let’s get to work. We’ve only got about seven hours before the election announcement and Westerfield’s sniper is dispatched. We’ll head into the city. There’s already a crowd gathering in front of the White House. We’re about an hour from the Capitol.”

Zared doesn’t mess around.

“You all know Cara?” Zared rests a hand on her shoulder. “She’s been undercover in the capitol now for two years working as an aide in the Westerfield camp. She’s an invaluable asset, as she’s had the opportunity to work directly with him. She knows how he thinks and operates. Hopefully, it’ll give us the edge in hunting down this sniper. We believe he’ll be located in one of the warehouses east of the Capitol Building. That gives him the most access to the stage without having to worry about the density of the crowd. We’ll check that location while Lily gets to her father. Understood? Between our two groups, we should be able to stop this attack.”

Zared walks around to the driver’s side and continues talking. “We’ll head directly into the city by car as far as possible. Stay close.” He jumps into the vehicle.

“Who does this guy think he is?” Nero rolls his eyes, climbing into the backseat of our truck.

Rory glares back at him as she gets in. “
That’s
the man who’s going to save your life,” she snaps.

“Swoon much?” Nero mumbles.

Rory lets it go with one quick huff. No point in arguing with someone who always has to make a point.

We pull back onto the highway and head into the heart of the city.

In my mind, I replay the last time I saw my parents. It’s hard to remember the specifics, to be honest. It feels like I haven’t really seen either of them in months. But I was just starting to make headway with my mother. We were just beginning to understand each other. Now, I’m back to the beginning. She has to understand me as this whole new person, someone who has seen the world in a different way. My parents don’t like change unless it involves an uptick in the social hierarchy. They suffered enough change during the war to last a lifetime. The disappearance of their only child, no doubt, has left them reeling. Now, just before the election, I’m going to show up and rearrange everything they thought they knew. Again.

I’m apprehensive. There’s a good chance they’ll reject me now. The change will be too much for them, so they’ll shut it out completely.

We reach the city, and Zared wasn’t kidding. It’s a madhouse.

Election Day seems to have brought everyone to the city. People have traveled from the farthest corners of the North American Sector to be at the announcement event. It’s like Times Square used to be on New Year’s Eve. A mecca for dreams and hopes. There are even a few wealthy enough to have flown here from other countries. It’s a historic moment, after all. A day people have been talking about for six years following the collapse of the previous government.

There are people crowding the streets, forcing us to drive slowly, inching our way along. But the closer we get, the more congested it is. We don’t have time for this. My frustration rises each time more people step in front of our car. Again, I’m grateful I didn’t indulge in coffee. Caffeine jitters combined with my anxiety might just cause a heart attack. In fact, I probably don’t even need the caffeine to have one. All I have to do is picture Westerfield’s face, and my heart begins to pound erratically.

The sun follows us like sand in an hourglass trickling down as our time dwindles. At least I’m not the only nervous one. Skylar twiddles his fingers atop the steering wheel. We aren’t getting anywhere, and we don’t have time to waste.

“Maybe we should turn around?” I offer.

“Maybe,” he agrees.

We stay sitting in the middle of the street. Zared will be the one to make the call, and he’s in the car in front of us.

People weave around our car, all converging on the same place. Skylar moves the car an inch and then stomps the brake to avoid hitting a stout man, who shimmies past the bumper. I press my fingers over my eyes.

There isn’t time.

Skylar goes back to twiddling his fingers. Dun, dun, dun, dun….

“Will you cut that out?” Nero’s voice breaks the silence.

Skylar freezes. “Sorry.” I tense next to him. He drops his hand from the wheel. No point being at nine and three if we’re in park.

Zared makes a sharp right into a parking garage.

Finally!

There are only a few spaces left on the top floor. We take them and get out of our vehicles.

“We’ll walk from here,” Zared says.

I know this area. Capitol Building is about a mile from here.

We have five hours until the announcement at 8:00 p.m.

Everywhere I look, I see crimson red and sapphire blue—my father’s and Westerfield’s campaign colors. People hold signs, wear T-shirts; some even paint their faces as if this were the largest sporting event in the world.

I stay close to Skylar’s shoulder, worried I’ll be lost in the crowd.

“Lily,” Cara says, coming up beside me. “Your father is in the south wing of the Capitol Building in his office on the second floor. He has three levels of security, but you should be able to get past them as soon as they see your face. Do you think you can convince him? We’re counting on you to warn him.”

I nod, knowing this was the plan all along. We all have a part to play.

“Good girl.” Cara gives me a firm clap on the back. I reflexively grip Skylar’s wrist to balance myself. He chuckles and holds me steady. The easy smile on his face makes me recoil. This isn’t time for games.

The entrance gates to the Capitol Building are open, but there isn’t room for everyone to get through, so the crowd has spilled out onto the streets. People are jumping up and down trying to get a better view of the stage.

I pan the crowd. There are buildings around us, and so many people. It will be impossible to find a sniper in such a large group. The killer could be hiding anywhere. The Revealed have their guesses, but no guarantees.

I scan the windows of the buildings, then back over my other shoulder, looking into the crowd. Such an eclectic group of people. They may
all
be snipers, for all I can tell.

Suddenly, I realize there is no one familiar around me. I got distracted and lost my group in the sea of red and blue. The outfits we’d been given at the facilities matched the theme so we would blend in. My T-shirt is a fitting blue, my father’s colors. I glance through the crowd, trying to find the others.

And then I see Kai.

He’s standing near the stage in his military uniform, next to security. There are cameras around him, all pointed in his direction from behind the press line. People in the crowd are huddling around him, trying to get a better look, though security manages to keep them at bay. He holds himself high, like usual, but seems distracted today. He ignores anyone calling his name. He doesn’t even fake a smile. His lips are drawn in a thin line, and his green-gold eyes are narrowed.

My heart stops.

I have to go to him.

“Excuse me,” I say, pushing through the crowd. I squeeze myself between people, forgetting everything around me but him. “Please, I need to get through.”

He is so close.

“Lily!”

A hand reaches out and grips my shoulder.

I glance back to see who it is. “Rory.”

Then I turn toward Kai again. He’s so close all I want is to run into his arms. My body aches to bridge the gap. But I remember the deal I made with Julia.

Rory follows my gaze. “This isn’t the time to get distracted.” She directs me away from Kai. “Focus.” It takes me a few minutes to regain my sense of direction. Luckily, Rory keeps hold of my wrist, weaving me through the crowd.

“Get a little lost?” Nero smirks as I rejoin the group.

I nod, wistfully looking over my shoulder again. All I see now are clumps of people behind me.

I hear a reporter going live on camera off to my right: “Some people have been waiting outside the Capitol Building for days. One man in the crowd said he’d brought his tablet with him so he could vote at midnight. Electronic voting closes at five p.m. The committee on voter authentication has been preparing for this day for years, and their job is coming to a close as the afternoon wanes. We have just been told following the polls closing, the committee will complete some last-minute verifications before the results of the election are announced at eight p.m. sharp. As you can see, there is a crowd of tens of thousands lined up behind me. All of them anxiously waiting to see who the first president of the North American Sector will be.”

“Is everything okay?” Skylar asks.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Good.” Zared steps forward. “Because we don’t have time to waste. Lily, you should head around the side of the building. Get past security and find your parents. Skylar will go with you and wait outside.”

“Got it,” I say, nodding.

“The rest of us will patrol around the crowd and try our best to locate the sniper. We’ll split up into groups of two and canvas the area. We’ll meet back here in two hours when the polls close to report, got it? That’s five p.m. people. Be here.”

“Right.”

Skylar and I begin sprinting toward the building, dodging people as best we can. “Excuse me,” I shout, moving around people. “Can I please get through?” My voice falls on deaf ears.

“Bring them home! Bring them home!” Demonstrators march around us in a cluster. They wave signs pleading for the return of the Taken Eighteen.

My gaze meets Skylar’s, and I finally give up trying to be polite. I push through the crowd and don’t look back. I plow through clumps of people with my face down, hidden by my hair. The last thing I need is someone to recognize me. Especially because I’m supposed to be one of the Taken Eighteen—I
am
a Taken Eighteen. Anyone who recognizes me would probably freak out.