“Hazel?” he whispers. I nod my head ever so slightly. “Holy shit, Pigeon!” He wraps his arms around me, and I inhale his familiar scent.
I’m overwhelmed with what I can only describe as homesickness. I nuzzle his neck and melt into his embrace, momentarily closing my eyes. For a few brief seconds, I am transported back to Razor Pointe. I am myself again. But when I open them, I’m hurled back to the reality of the dank, dim booth.
Shane brushes back the loose hair around my head. “What the hell did you do to yourself?” he asks, half laughing.
“I had a makeover.”
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that.”
We stand there, looking intently at each other until Justin clears his throat.
“Does somebody want to explain to me why there is two of him walking around?”
Shane furrows his brow. “What is he talking about?”
“Riley. Thanks for telling me you have a twin by the way. This is Justin.”
Shane ignores my comment about his brother but doesn’t fail to shoot me a disconcerted look. “I’ve been looking all over for you. What the hell has been going on?”
I sit back down next to Justin. “We were hoping you could tell us that. Where are we?”
“An old airport. We use it as a compound.”
“We?” Justin asks.
Shane’s glare darts by the door and lowers his tone. “There’s a new group of Rusers forming. They’re planning to overthrow the Officials.”
“What?” I whisper. I swallow the lump in my throat. “How?”
“The plan is not definite yet, but you need to talk to LaRoux. She can help us.”
I shake my head. “No way. She wants to sell me to Whetherby. You heard it yourself.”
“She was just testing you. She would never do that. Look, if anyone hates the Officials more than me, it’s her. I’m telling you that you can trust her.”
“Does Margaret know about this?” I ask.
“Of course she does. LaRoux’s sister and Margaret are good friends. How do you think they all get their information?” Shane raises his eyebrows.
“Ellen?” I cry. “Are you serious?”
Justin and I exchange dubious looks.
“Look,” Shane continues, “if you don’t tell her who you really are she’s going to assume you’re either a spy for the Pigeons or worse…expendable. At least a spy could be tortured for information.”
Tortured for information? Wonderful.
“Fine, but if either one of us dies because of this, I’m coming back to haunt you as a huge bug.”
Shane leaves us in the booth to find LaRoux. Justin and I lean against each other, back to back, our knees tucked into our chests.
“So, does Luka know?” he asks.
I pretend to not know what he’s referring to. “Know about what?”
“About Shane.” He turns abruptly. I brace myself at the last minute, grabbing on to the bench to prevent from toppling over.
He stares at me for a few seconds, waiting for me to fess up.
“No,” I say. “Is it that obvious?”
Justin scoffs at my ignorance. “Yeah, you could say that. What are you going to do?”
I wish I had an answer for him. I wish I had an answer for myself.
He chuckles softly. “Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting.”
I laugh. “This whole kidnapping thing not exciting enough for you?”
“No way,” he says. “What you got going between those two is going to be way more brutal.”
Lucky me.
Chapter 28
Shane takes longer than I expect to return for us. He takes me by the hand and leads us back into the open area of the airplane hangar. Dusk is setting in the sky as the sun melts into the clouds, making them into coppery wisps. LaRoux is leaning against the same table as before, her sunglasses hanging on the collar of her shirt. This time there are chairs scattered before her, and she gestures for us to sit.
“So, Hazel, I hear you’ve had a change of heart.”
Shane gives me a reassuring nod.
“I heard I could trust you. So, I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Well, that was nice of you.” She moves from the table and sits on the chair. “So, what do you have for me?”
For the next fifteen minutes, I blurt out the whole story up until the moment Justin and I were brown-bagged in the tattoo parlor. I feel Shane’s gaze on me, his eyes never breaking from my direction. LaRoux listens intently, and the only question she asks is about the well-being of her sister who she hasn’t seen in weeks. When I’m finished, Shane mumbles under his breath.
“There were others with us yesterday. Luka and Riley were in the back with the Pigeons. We need to find them.”
“My men reported seeing two others arrested at the tattoo parlor. Unfortunately, more Pigeons swarmed the place, and they had to get the hell out of there.”
Shane is quick to interject. “Well, there you have it. They’re probably back on their way to Eight as we speak.”
“Well, we need to get there…now,” I insist.
Shane is already shaking his head. “There’s no guarantee they’ll be there, or that they’re even alive.”
The thought is so disturbing it makes me physically ill.
“He’s your brother, Shane! We have to at least try.”
Shane makes no attempt to maintain his tone. “The risk is too high. He knows it, and I know it. If the shoe were on the other foot, he would be telling you the same thing about me.”
Justin raises his hand half-heartedly, waiting to be called on as though we were in school. LaRoux is the teacher, and Shane is the troublemaker passing around a folded note.
We all look at him in unison. “If Riley is your brother and Whetherby is your uncle, then won’t the Pigeons catch on to your double agent status?” He makes a good point, one that never crossed my mind.
“It’s possible, but at this point it doesn’t matter. Half the Pigeons my uncle commissions are sent on blind orders.”
“Blind?” I ask.
“In other words, the message travels between Pigeons along the Wards. It’s highly likely that if Riley and Luka were taken, the Pigeons would have no idea who they were. As far as the Pigeons are concerned, they’re just doing another pick-up for the Officials.”
LaRoux tries to redirect the conversation. “Do we know where my sister and Margaret are?”
I shake my head. “They wouldn’t tell us exactly. All they mentioned was that they were meeting with another Official who could help us get into First City. That’s all I know.”
I swipe my hand over my face, trying to clear the racing thoughts from my mind, if only for a few seconds. Changing Shane’s mind about finding Luka and Riley isn’t going to be easy, but I don’t expect anything less. I’m not use to easy. Hard is something I’m more familiar with.
My stomach rumbles loudly, reminding me I haven’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours. LaRoux tells Shane to lead us to the mess hall to find something to eat.
“You can stay in the extra bunks we have available. Tomorrow we can discuss our next move.” The way she says it lets us know there’s no point in arguing. You’re either with them or against them, and there is no in-between.
* * * *
The mess hall is practically empty this late. There are a few people sitting at a table at the far end of the room. They break from their conversation when we enter, but then continue. Shane leads us to the back where there is a fully-equipped kitchen. A large industrial range is surrounded by more metal tables and overhead racks where pots and pans hang. There are three large refrigerators, but only one is running, attached to large generator buzzing in the background.
Shane bypasses the fridge and walks into the large pantry. He comes out with a loaf of bread, a few apples, and two bottles of water. He distributes the food between Justin and me, and we remain in the kitchen, tearing into the food in comple
te silence. At first the quiet is calming, and I’m happy to sink my teeth into something other than my tongue.
As the noiselessness continues, the awkwardness consumes the air. Justin switches his gaze between Shane and me, his eyes heavy with expectation. Probably waiting for the bomb to be dropped and the shrapnel to fly. But I say nothing.
I am so hungry I eat the apple down to the seeds. Justin guzzles half of the water and tucks the bottle into his pants pocket. Shane walks us out of the kitchen, which he said use to be an old airport café, and leads us across the tarmac to another large brick building. Night has fallen, and the only thing illuminating our way is a single spotlight perched on a large watchtower. The light reflects part of the metal fence that surrounds the place, which is topped with barbed wire.
Inside is even darker, and Shane grabs two flashlights off the table near the front door. He turns on one and sticks the other one in his pants pocket. We walk only a short distance before he turns into another room. It’s bare except for two sets of bunk beds up against each side of the windowless walls.
“We don’t use the electricity if we don’t have to,” he explains, handing Justin the other flashlight. “The bathroom is around the corner, down the hall. My bunk is right around the corner if you need anything.” His eyes flicker to mine, but he says no more. I watch him as he walks out, the words practically hanging off my lips. He disappears out the door.
Justin plops down on the bottom bed of one of the bunks. He bounces a few times. “Hmm,” he says. “Blanket’s a little scratchy, but I guess it’ll do.” He kicks his sneakers off and lies down. “Going to bed?”
“Yeah…sure.” I sit down on the bottom bed opposite his and flop down on the flat pillow.
I rustle around, trying to find a comfortable position. But it isn’t the bed that’s preventing me from falling asleep.
“Why don’t you just go and talk to him. Maybe you’ll feel better.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” I stare at the bottom of the top bunk, trying to muster the courage to walk to his room. I take a deep breath through my nose, feeling my diaphragm expand. I let the air out through my mouth, controlled and slow. I repeat this two more times. My head spins a little, but it manages to calm my nerves enough to raise myself from the bed.
Justin watches me as I hoist myself to a standing position.
“Good luck,” he says, as if I’m about to walk the plank.
“I’m going to need more than that.”
Chapter 29
I head out into the hallway. My eyes have had enough time to adjust to the darkness, and I make my slow descent down the hall. I turn the corner and see Shane through the slightly opened door, thanks to the outside spotlight reflecting through his window.
He’s lying on the bed, shirt off, shorts on, his head propped high on the pillow. I edge behind the corner of the hallway, giving myself a few more seconds before showing my face. He makes no indication that he sees me or even senses my presence. He has a headset covering each ear, and he taps his shoeless foot mindlessly against the bed.
Looking at him, I’m finding it harder and harder to stay put. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, and I want to know if it will be the same between us. But of course it won’t be. Too much has happened in between the time he left me standing at the bus stop in Ward Seven and now. In the back of my mind, the thought of Luka wounded, or dead, grates my nerves. I need to convince Shane that trying to find his brother and Luka is a good idea. One thing at a time. Just get yourself out of the hallway first.
I walk toward the door and lightly knock a few times. I don’t know why, since I know he can’t hear it. Pushing the door wide open, Shane’s eyes shift to mine. I stand in the threshold of the door, waiting for him to say something…anything. The silence between us just keeps getting bigger until I feel like it’s pushing me back out the door. Shane’s face is blank, emotionless, the total opposite of how he looked when he realized it was really me locked up in the booth.
He takes off his headset and sits up from the bed, every muscle in his arms and stomach contracting with the movement. Even in this dim light, his eyes pierce right through me, sending me whirling inside his large pupils.
We remain in a steady gaze for a few minutes, waiting for the other one to speak first. It reminds me of a game Netty and I use to play. The staring game we would call it. It had one simple rule—whoever looked away first was the loser. We would stare at each other so long that our faces would become meaningless objects. Noses, eyes, lips would start to blur together until it was too much to look at.
“Hey.” It’s all I can muster, and I barely get it out above a whisper.
“Hey.”
Well, this is off to a good start.
“I want to talk to you about something,” I mutter.
“Me, too,” he replies. “You first.”
I take a few slow steps and sit down on the opposite bunk. “You could have told me, you know. You could have trusted me.”
“I didn’t want to put you in danger,” he says. “The less you knew, the better.”
“Well, a lot of good that did. I still managed to find myself in a load of shit.”
He doesn’t respond. Maybe out of guilt for not being there.
“We need to find Luka and Riley, Shane.”
“Hazel, I already told you. It’s too risky.”
“I don’t care. They both risked their lives for me. I’m not going to just abandon them.”
Shane starts nervously tapping his foot against the floor. He buries his face in his hands and exhales in frustration. “You are so stubborn, you know that? Can’t you just listen to me this once? What do you expect to do? Storm into every Pigeon Post from here to Ward Eight to find them?” His calm voice has turned into a hushed yell.
“Sure, why not?”
Shane snickers. “You’re impossible.”
“Please, Shane. If it weren’t so important to me, I wouldn’t ask.”
“Why is it so important to you?”
It’s a question I don’t want to answer. It’s an answer that requires too much explanation, too much emotion, too much…just too much.
“I told you,” I say. “They risked their lives for me. I just can’t forget them.” It’s true, but it’s not the only reason. I don’t elaborate and hope that it’s reason enough to change his mind.
Shane exhales in defeat and walks to my side of the bed. I shift my body over, and he sits down next to me. Looking down, he grabs my hand and holds it in his.
“I thought about you every day.” His eyes meet mine, and this time it’s my turn to look away.
“We should leave first thing tomorrow,” I say.
“What happened, Pigeon?” he asks. “I told you not to back yourself into any corners without me.”
My attempt to redirect the conversation fails.
He holds my hand firmer, and my pulse quickens.
“You know me,” I say. “Can’t help but to get myself into trouble.”
He brings my hand up to his lips and plants a gentle kiss on my scraped knuckles. “I missed you.”
I should tear my hand away and wish him a good night, but I don’t. I accomplished what I came here for in the first place. But who am I kidding? Convincing Shane to look for Luka and Riley isn’t the only reason I’m here. I sit there, my body unable to move from his gravitating energy.
“I should go.” I try to get up, but Shane maintains his grip on my wrist, his fingers grazing the scab where the ICC used to be.
“What’s this from?” he asks, sliding his thumb over the mark.
“It’s from the chip they made everyone get. We had to cut it out before we escaped.”
Shane inspects the spot closely. “I overheard them talking about these, but I never thought they’d actually do it.”
I gently tear my hand away. My eyes are burning, and the fatigue is setting in. I just want to close my eyes and let sleep help me forget for a few hours.
/>
“Hazel, wait.”
I stop and turn.
“I know you’re upset and I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to explain—” But he doesn’t let me continue.
“Yes. I do.” He gets up from the bed and walks closer to me. “Every day I thought about storming into the Antioch and pulling you out of there. It tortured me to think of you being reaped, sent to a breeding room. When I heard you had escaped, I went crazy. I just needed to find you…to know you were okay. I worried about you constantly and—”
“You don’t think I worried about you? Wondering if you were okay or if you were still alive day after day for over a year?”
After sitting in my cell alone at the Antioch for hours, it became hard to breathe. My days with Luka in the breeding rooms helped me catch my breath.
Now I feel like I’m suffocating again.
“You were worried about me?’ he asks, surprised.
“Yeah,” I say, breathless. “I was. But now that I know you’re in one piece, I can scratch that off my list of things to obsess over.”
Shane laughs, and I have to stifle my own laughter. It feels so wrong to smile…a small betrayal to Luka.
Shane walks even closer to me. “You look so different. Your eyes…the tattoo. Are you still the same, Pigeon?” He looks deep into me, so deep I feel him searching my soul.
“A lot’s happened since we last saw each other,” I remind him. I back away ever so slightly, but he moves forward to compensate for the distance.
“I’m not going to let you out of my sight again,” he says to me, cupping my now bare neck. I feel my chest rattle with the booming beat of my heart. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” As he says it, he leans in closer to me, his lips ready to meet mine.
I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. Do I?
“I can take care of myself.” I pull away from his grip, hot pain searing through my chest. It’s just too much. This pain is just too much. I need to get back to my bunk; the feeling of being in this room with Shane is overloading my ability to think clearly. I avoid Shane’s face and head toward the door, not wanting to see the same pain I feel on his face. When I reach the corner of the hallway, I slump to the floor and lean my head back against the wall, clutching my knees to subdue the stinging that is consuming me.
The Unforgiven (The Propagation Project Book 1) Page 13
