Three (Article 5) (22 page)

On the first cut I siphoned in a quick breath, locked my jaw, and stared at the closest cross.

On the second, I exhaled.

I never felt the third.

“Welcome to Three,” said DeWitt.

*   *   *

THE
cool night air made the mark sting, but I didn’t care. For the first time since we’d arrived I felt like I actually belonged here.

DeWitt withdrew a bandage from his pocket. He removed the sticky backing and placed it gently over the wound. I followed the council members and tied the collar back in place; no one I knew to be a part of Three broadcasted their marks.

They looked to Chase, and Chase looked to me.

We’ll never be able to go back,
he’d said. These were our lives now.

But when I considered them marking him, I felt unsure of my choice. It was like standing on a cliff, inching closer to the edge.

A crash inside the shed distracted me, bringing a chill up my spine. DeWitt’s head snapped in that direction, and soon he was running toward the sound.

“Billy,” I whispered. Chase and I followed closely behind.

We reached the door and found Billy still outside. Physically, he looked fine; there was no blood, no broken bones. But his knuckles were flexed around the gun he pointed at the door.

Another crash came from inside, this time followed by a male’s sharp cry of pain. DeWitt was struggling to open the deadbolt on the door with a key from around his neck.

“Who’s in there?” Chase asked.

“Your uncle,” muttered DeWitt. A second later he’d removed the lock, but Chase shoved him aside and plowed through the entrance. I followed him inside, blinking back the bright lantern light coming from three of the four walls.

To my left, hidden from view of the front door, was an animal cage, like that which would hold livestock, and curled across the bottom of it, too big to stretch out, was a man.

His face was bruised and swollen. His navy blue uniform jacket was stained with blood and sweat. Standing outside the cage, his hands entangled in the mesh, was Jesse. He had a pair of needle-nose pliers in his teeth.

“Oh,” I said, siphoning in a breath.

Chase was staring at his uncle, the shock on his face hardening to rage.

“Rebel dogs,” muttered the soldier. He grinned at me, teeth bloody. “You know what they call a female rebel dog?”

Jesse kicked the mesh, sending it rattling against the back wall. The man flipped over onto his other side. With him facing away I could breathe again.

“You keep prisoners here,” I said, forcing myself to look away from the soldier.

This was a war. He was the enemy. Men like him were killing my friends.

Not that long ago you thought I was the enemy, too,
Sean had said.

“How did you think we knew about the chief’s party?” asked DeWitt quietly.

I turned and skipped the steps, landing on the ground. I couldn’t be near him a second longer.

Chase followed me, one hand over his mouth.

“He’s a man,” I said, “not an animal.”

Chase’s eyes darkened. He lowered his hand. “I know that.”

“They’re holding him in a cage, Chase! That’s what they do. That’s not what we do!”

“I
know,
” he said.

I pulled away from him, disgusted with what I’d seen, with the marks still burning my chest. He stared into the night, fingers woven behind his neck.

“I’m sorry,” I said. I felt sick. I was a part of this now, a part of all of it. Forever. The proof was right there on my skin.

But we still had to go. However bad Three was, the MM was worse.

I told myself this again and again.

Jesse stepped into the doorway, a dark shadow against the bright lights inside. He met Chase’s accusing stare, the air between them growing heavy with challenge.

“If you want to know, just ask, Chase.” It was the first time I’d heard Jesse use his first name. His voice was soft, careful, and seemed to hold DeWitt and Billy back from intervening.

“I don’t,” said Chase.

Jesse’s head fell forward. Somewhere deep inside, I felt a slash of pity.

“I have to tell Rebecca we’re leaving,” I said. Sean may have already gone; I couldn’t leave her alone without saying good-bye.

Chase led the way.

*   *   *

REBECCA
was not in the kitchen or the south wing. Chase checked the dorms, but she wasn’t there either. My search became frantic; if I didn’t find her soon, I wouldn’t be able to tell her we were going.

Finally, we made our way to the barn. The breezeway had recently been raked, and the stalls smelled of fresh hay. A few horses trotted close to the gates as we approached, looking for treats. They snorted and stomped their feet when I passed them by.

I spared a lingering glance up at the loft, then blushed when Chase caught me.

Outside, the slow
clomp-de-clomp
of hoof beats approached, and we turned toward the entry, where a girl’s soothing voice carried into the barn.

“That’s a good girl. A little closer to the fence. Good girl.”

Chase and I shared a skeptical look, then stepped outside.

Rebecca was riding a horse. Our Rebecca, who could barely walk, had somehow managed to climb aboard a creature whose back was the height of my shoulders. Gently, the dark mare edged against the fence, and for a moment I thought Rebecca’s leg was about to be crushed. Chase reached for the horse’s bridle.

“I’ve got it,” she said, waving him off. We watched as she maneuvered off the mare’s back, and slowly, steadily, climbed down the fence to her waiting crutch. As she fitted it to her arm, she blew out a slow, painful breath, then smiled. The horse waited patiently, bobbing her head as if in approval.

“That was impressive,” said Chase.

“I know.” Rebecca smirked. “Doctor DeWitt says Junebug helps with my rehab.”

I winced at DeWitt’s name. His kindness to Rebecca made what I’d seen in the shed even harder to swallow.

“Where were you?” I asked.

She glanced over her shoulder. “The orchard.”

“What?” The last time we were there we were attacked by a group of savage boys. “You went alone?”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I have Junebug. And this.” She lifted a flap on the saddle bag, revealing a black handgun. “Sean gave it to me. There’s a small stash of weapons at the front gate he wasn’t supposed to know about. Hush, hush and all that.”

I placed a tentative hand on the horse’s neck, feeling the muscles flex beneath her soft coat. She swung her head toward me, one big brown eye staring me down, and nibbled at the loose fabric of my shirt.

“He said if something happens, I’m supposed to meet him at the orchard,” she added. “He’s a worry wart.”

I looked to Chase, who shoved his hands in his pockets. When I turned back, tears had filled Rebecca’s eyes, and I hugged her, harder than I meant to.

“Are you just here to check on me?” asked Rebecca, taking a deep breath. “Because Sean’s coming back. He promised.”

“We’re leaving, too,” I said quietly. I didn’t let her go, even when her arms dropped from my shoulders. For the first time I truly considered we might not come back. If it wasn’t going to be so dangerous, I would have taken her with us.

“Everyone’s leaving,” she said when I finally backed away. She turned back to Junebug, hiding her face. “Well, go then. I’m fine.”

I waited a second, hating the hurt in her tone. Chase touched my arm. We needed to leave.

We’d made it to the end of the paddock fence before I heard her voice one last time.

“Be careful.”

I didn’t look back.

CHAPTER

15

THE
day passed, but I only saw a narrow strip of it in the slash of yellow light painting the ceiling of the MM delivery truck. Hay-filled crates were packed against the rollaway door, creating the impression that the compartment was full. The back quarter was left open for Billy and me.

I wasn’t sure if he was mad at me again, or just quiet. Either way, my mind was filled with thoughts of our mission. Worry of the danger we’d be in back in the interior, but also for those who would read the new Statutes and fight against the MM.

I didn’t know if this would make a difference. I wanted it to, but at the same time, I didn’t, because I didn’t know if I was strong enough to carry the responsibility of innocent people risking their lives.

Maybe DeWitt felt this way when he sent people out. Maybe it was something you got used to. I didn’t see how.

Chase and Jesse drove. There were only two seats in the cab, and if we were stopped by a border patrol it was better to have two ex-soldiers up front rather than a fourteen-year-old in a baggy MM uniform and a Sister of Salvation. If I had to guess, they still weren’t speaking.

With each blind bump and turn we were tossed from side to side, until finally, I pushed aside some of the boxes, spread out one of the packing blankets, and laid down on the floor. My thoughts turned to Sean—to the last words we’d shared—and to Rebecca, who’d been left alone to say good-bye to him. The air, already heavy with heat and tension, grew even more oppressive, and as I lay there, I wished I could ask if she thought I was doing the right thing with the Statutes.

It would have been nice to talk to her about what had happened with Chase, too.

I hoisted the borrowed wool skirt around my knees and opened the stuffy collar. Billy held out a few minutes longer, until he finally gave up and lowered beside me. For a long time we said nothing, just watched the light move across the ceiling. Then, without looking over, he said, “Sarah doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

It took a moment to realize he meant the same Sarah we’d found in Knoxville, who was still quite pregnant.

“Oh, no?” I asked.

“She hasn’t said anything about me, has she?”

I hadn’t had the chance to check in with her since we’d arrived at Endurance. “I saw her looking at you at dinner the other night.”

I could feel him beam.

“I was thinking maybe after we get back I’d see if she wanted to hang out.” It wasn’t a question, but it sounded like one.

“You should bring her flowers. Steal some from the garden.”

He snickered. “You’re crazy for putting your name in those Statutes.”

I breathed in slowly. “I know.”

“It’s what we said we’d do after we got to the safe house,” he said. “Tell everyone what happened to them—your mom and Wallace.”

The truck turned, and I bumped his arm as we slid six inches to the right.

“If you didn’t know for sure she was dead, do you think you’d still be looking?”

His voice was different, not quite as hard. Like the old Billy. My friend.

“Yes,” I said. “I would still be looking.”

He reached over and grabbed my arm, latching us together. “I can’t tell Wallace’s story until I know for sure.”

“I know.” I rolled onto my side to face him. “Sarah, huh?”

He covered his eyes with his hands, but not his smile.

By the time we reached Greeneville, the light across the ceiling of the compartment had dimmed, and all but disappeared. Even with the scheduled detours that took us off the main highways, the trip had taken longer than I’d expected. By the time the truck eased to a stop and Chase’s double knock came from the back, my patience had worn thin.

When the exit door rolled up, Chase was already reaching to help me down. Beside him stood a familiar soldier with a hooked nose and toothy smile.

“Marco!” Polo exclaimed. “Marco, look what the Red Zone dragged in!” He batted Chase’s hand aside and instead helped me down himself. When my feet found the ground he lifted my knuckles to his lips and planted a wet, noisy kiss there.

“You’re happy to see us,” said Chase, stealing me away. “We get it.”

Monstrous black machines with silver trays and black rubber belts that protruded like tongues stretched across the factory floor, sleeping and silent though still warm from recent use. Cardboard boxes of different sizes, some larger than me, were stacked against the side wall, and the room smelled musty, like old books that hadn’t been opened in a long time.

A lanky man, with skin as dark as Polo’s was light, stepped out from behind a machine on the opposite side of the loading dock. When he saw me a grin split his face from ear to ear.

“You missed us!” cried Marco. “You all missed us,” he added as Billy hopped from the back of the truck.

“Hey, guys,” said Billy.

Polo slapped him on the back. “Glad to see you didn’t take the one-way train to Charlotte.”

A lump formed in my throat. Marco muttered something that had Polo wincing.

“Sorry,” he said. He reached a hand toward Jesse, who was checking the high back windows as if we’d been tailed. “Have we met before?”

Jesse shook his hand as he continued to assess the building.

“Doubt it,” he said.

“Are you sure? Because I’m good with faces.”

“He’s terrible with faces,” said Marco.

Polo gave him a pithy look. “I practically have a photographic memory.”

“Just like I can practically read minds.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Polo, gesturing rudely. “What am I thinking now?”

“Yet another reminder why I never settled down,” grumbled Jesse.

“Speaking of photographs,” said Polo cheerfully. “Saw a spooky one lately the Bureau was trying to pin on you two. In a hospital in Chicago, I think it said. You should see it. Didn’t even look like you.”

Chase and I glanced at each other.

“Hold the bus,” said Polo. “That was you?” When neither of us answered, Polo slapped his partner in the chest. “Read their minds, Marco.”

Marco grimaced. “Signs definitely point to yes, Polo.”

“Are they always like this?” asked Jesse.

“Yes,” said Billy and I together.

A noise came in the direction I knew to be the office, just beyond the factory doors. Before I could react, Jesse had already drawn his weapon and pointed it at the soldier who walked through. The trash bag in the soldier’s grip fell to the floor with a dull thud.

“Whoa, easy big guy,” said Polo. Marco had thrown his hands up in surrender, though he was not in the line of fire.