I took a step to head back into the compound and accidentally kicked something on the ground.
Kent’s white Wiffle ball went skittering across the grass. Had he dropped it without knowing? Or had he left it there?
Have a ball.
That’s what he said. Was he being literal?
I picked up the ball and immediately realized that it felt off. The closed half, the half opposite the air holes, was heavier than normal. Something was inside. I casually lifted the ball, trying not to arouse suspicion from the ever-watchful guards as I peered through the air holes.
What I saw made my throat clutch. Kent’s words suddenly made sense, as did his plan. He was right. Doing things his way was a risk. A huge risk. There was no guarantee that his plan would work and even if it did there was a good possibility that we wouldn’t survive. The question was, was I willing to take the chance?
I needed to think. What was I willing to risk to expose SYLO, stop Granger, and get revenge for Quinn’s death? What I held in my hand might give me that chance.
Nestled in the closed side of the seemingly innocent Wiffle Ball, glued firmly in place, was a thick layer of sparkling crystals.
Ruby red crystals.
NINETEEN
At five o’clock a horn sounded that was the call to dinner. I had no idea if it was actually five o’clock because I didn’t have my cell phone, but that’s what the soldier told me would happen. Everyone in the recreation yard stopped what they were doing and immediately started moving toward a gate that had swung open along the northernmost fence. Nobody said a word. They simply started walking as if it was a well-practiced routine. I didn’t know what else to do so I followed. Besides, I was hungry.
“My name’s Tucker,” I said to the guy in line next to me.
He must not have been a local because he wasn’t familiar. He gave me a quick glance then looked straight ahead without answering.
“Do you know why they’re keeping us here?” I asked.
“Mind your own business, kid,” the guy said, without looking at me.
“Why?” I asked, pressing. “Why won’t anybody talk to each other?”
“Because we want to stay alive,” was his sober response.
He pushed through the line to get further ahead—and away from me. Just as well. His answer stunned me into silence anyway. I tried to make eye contact with a few other inmates but got the same response. They were scared. But why? They were prisoners. Why would talking to other prisoners get them into more trouble than they were already in? And why were they in trouble in the first place? It made me even more determined to escape, not just to save my skin, but to find out what was really going on.
We were funneled through open gates guarded by two SYLO sentries. I felt the weight of the Wiffle ball in my jacket pocket and hoped that the guards weren’t doing body searches. I had a moment of panic when I feared that Kent had set me up.
To my relief I walked past the guards without a problem. We filed through a narrow walkway with high fencing on both sides leading to a large tent that had the distinct smell of cooking food. It actually made my mouth water. I couldn’t remember when I had eaten last.
Once inside, the crowd split into two orderly lines that each led to a different serving station. I followed everyone’s lead and picked up a sectioned tray and a flimsy plastic spoon. I suppose there were no knives or forks because they could be used as weapons, though I’m not exactly sure how much damage you could do with a plastic fork.
We had no choice with the food. Everyone got the same thing as they slid their trays past the steam tables manned by workers with white smocks that had SYLO logos on the arms. If you didn’t like what they were serving, too bad. Kind of like the cafeteria at school. But the food was pretty good. There was sliced turkey with gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a slice of pumpkin pie. It was your basic Thanksgiving dinner, though at that moment I couldn’t think of anything to be thankful for. There was only water to drink but that was okay. The portions were big and it all smelled delicious.
The whole setup was efficient and orderly. There was plenty of food and enough workers to keep it all running smoothly, which said to me that this operation hadn’t been put together in a hurry. Food had to be ordered and delivered. Workers had to be brought in. Uniforms had to be made. You don’t just slap something like this together overnight. It made me realize that whatever the truth was about SYLO being on the island, it had been planned and prepped for a good long time. When I left the line with my tray, I scanned the tent for a place to sit. There were long tables running the length of the space. Prisoners were filing in from different entrances so I got the chance to see some of my fellow inmates. I saw Kent but we didn’t acknowledge each other. If we were being watched, it would be better not to be seen together too often. The person I really wanted to see was Tori, so I pretended to look for a place to sit while walking slowly along the rows of tables, checking faces.
SYLO guards stood silently along the walls, watching our every move. My guess is that there were a few hundred prisoners. Nobody spoke, which wasn’t a surprise but it sure was eerie. The inmates all sat at their tables and ate without so much as looking up at anybody else or even asking for the salt.
I saw a few faces I recognized from around the island, but none that I had been friendly with. Most were strangers. I was about to give up on Tori when I spotted a USM cap. Yes!
I walked quickly to the end of the table and saw her there, quietly eating. It was total relief. I didn’t want to say anything to her because I would have been the only person in the whole room speaking, so I walked past her and cleared my throat to get her attention.
I thought I was being subtle, but when a room is mostly silent, any noise is jarring. At least ten people looked up. Thankfully, one of them was Tori. When she saw me, I could see the relief in her eyes. She was just as worried about me as I was about her. I gave her a wink and continued on.
Seeing her gave me the resolve to make a decision. I was going to trust Kent. I was going to escape with him…and Tori was coming with us.
I sat between a lady wearing a bright pink warm-up suit and a guy who looked like any of the hundreds of lobstermen who worked off Pemberwick. It was a bizarre assortment of people in that they were a cross-section you would see on any day on the island, not the types you would expect to find under military arrest.
The one person I didn’t see was Tori’s dad. If he had been arrested, why wasn’t he there?
I followed everyone’s lead and ate silently. It didn’t take long. I suppose I should have taken my time and enjoyed it but I was starving. I was happy to see that people were going up for seconds and I wasn’t shy about joining them. I marched right back up and doubled up on the meal. Not only was I hungry but there was no telling when I might get the chance to eat again.
The mealtime lasted twenty minutes, which was plenty. It wasn’t like people were sitting around chatting afterward. When they were finished, they dropped their utensils and sat silently, staring at nothing.
A horn sounded. Everyone diligently stood up and filed out, depositing their trays in a bin by the door. I took a quick glance back to see Tori doing the same thing on the far side.
We marched out the same way we had come in and were herded toward the recreation yard. I wondered what the rest of the schedule for the day was. Were we just going to hang out on the fairway until somebody told us to go to bed? I hadn’t even been shown where I was supposed to sleep. I entered the yard, prepared to do nothing, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun quickly to see it was a SYLO soldier.
“Come with me,” he ordered.
I figured I was about to see my prison cell and followed him without question. He led me back toward the row of huts and opened the door of one. I was about to step inside when I heard, “Hey! Tucker!”
It was strange to hear a friendly voice in the otherwise silent yard. I turned to see Kent jogging up. Oddly, he was all smiling and br
ight as if he were having a great time.
“My turn,” he said. “Let’s have the ball.”
My brain locked. Why was he asking for the ball with the Ruby? The SYLO guard was standing right there. Was Kent throwing me under the bus?
“C’mon, man,” he cajoled. “I’m bored out of my mind.”
Not sure of what else to do, I reached into the pocket of my hoodie, took out the crystal-filled ball, and tossed it to him.
“Thanks!” he said. “We’ll have a catch later.”
He turned and jogged off, tossing the ball into the air and catching it like it was the most fun thing in the world. I didn’t understand what had happened and wasn’t going to get any answers standing there, so I continued into the hut. The soldier closed the door behind me and I was once again alone.
It wasn’t my new home. At least I hoped it wasn’t. It was empty except for a single chair in the middle of the room. There were three blank walls and one that was a floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall mirror. I stood there for a second, unsure of what to do, when the mirror turned to clear glass as a light came on behind it. It was a two-way mirror and standing on the other side was Captain Granger.
“Sit down, please,” he ordered dryly.
I walked tentatively to the chair but didn’t sit.
“Once again,” he began. “Why were you out on the water last night?”
“What do you want to hear?” I said. “I told you. I was trying to escape.”
“Why?”
“Are you serious? What don’t you get? There’s no virus. I know that. So that means we’re prisoners. Not just in this camp, the whole island. We’re cut off from the rest of the world and I want to know why.”
“Who helped you escape?” he asked.
“Nobody. It was just the three of us.”
“The boats you used belonged to Michael Sleeper. Did he plan the escape?”
“No! He was arrested before I even got to his house. You must know that.”
“Was the escape planned before that?”
“No.”
“Tell me who else was involved.”
“Jeez, dude,” I said, frustrated. “You can ask me the same questions over and over, but I’ll keep giving you the same answers because it’s the truth.”
The door to the outside opened and two more medical guys in white jackets entered.
“Oh, man,” I said. “Again? What else do you want to squeeze outta me?”
“Please remove your clothing,” one of the guys said.
I looked at Granger, who had his eyes on his tablet. Glancing to the door, I saw the SYLO guard with his hand resting on his holstered pistol. I decided to cooperate.
“You’re not gonna use Q-tips again, are you?”
“No,” was the medical guy’s simple answer.
I took off my jacket and handed it to the first guy. He immediately searched through it, turning out all of the pockets. They did the same with my pants and my shirt. Whatever it was they were looking for, it wasn’t part of my physical body—which meant that Kent had just saved me by asking for the Wiffle ball. He must have known I would be searched.
I didn’t have to drop my boxers, I’m happy to say. The two were satisfied that I wasn’t carrying anything suspicious and handed my clothes back.
“Get dressed,” the first guy said and the two left.
“What was that for?” I asked Granger.
“A random check.”
“What did you expect to find?” I asked as I got dressed. “A weapon?”
“Information,” was Granger’s curt answer.
“How often are we going to be having these little chats?” I asked.
Granger’s answer was to turn out the light. The clear glass turned back into a mirror.
“Okay! See you next time!” I called out cheerily. “I’ll have the same answers for you!”
The SYLO guard opened the door and motioned for me to leave. I stepped out of the hut to see that it was getting dark. It may have been warm but it was autumn and the days were growing shorter. The guard led me back through the now-empty recreation area toward another gate in the fence. I followed silently until I caught sight of something beyond the fence near the food tent.
“Stop,” I said to the guard.
He spun around as if surprised that I would challenge him. His gaze traveled to what I was looking at.
“Can I have a minute?” I asked.
The guard hesitated as if unsure of what to do. Finally, he relaxed and said, “Make it quick.”
He stayed put while I walked to the fence. It was the longest walk I’d ever taken. Part of me wanted to get there faster, the other part wanted to turn and run in the other direction. My feet felt leaden, but I kept moving until I was standing right at the fence…directly across from my mother.
“Hi, sweetie,” she said softly. “How are you doing?”
Her eyes were red and swollen from crying.
I didn’t know what to say.
“I heard you would be by this way,” she said, her voice cracking. “I wanted to see you.”
“Quinn is dead,” I said flatly.
Mom closed her eyes as if the words physically hurt her.
“I know,” she said in a soft whisper.
It was all I could do to keep from crying myself. This was my mother. I loved her. She had taken care of me my entire life. She didn’t even want me to play football for fear I might get hurt and here she was standing on the other side of a fence from me in every way possible.
“Why?” was all I managed to say.
She opened her mouth, but didn’t answer.
“Did you know all along?” I asked. “Is that why we moved to Pemberwick? Was this all part of some plan?”
It seemed as though it was physically painful for her to keep the words in, but she did.
“Talk to me,” I begged. “Why can’t you tell me?”
I was starting to lose it. As much as I didn’t want to cry, I couldn’t help myself. Once I gave in to my emotions, I couldn’t hold back and the waterworks began.
“You can tell me the truth,” I said, pleading. “I mean, why not? It’s over for me now, right? I’m in prison. What harm can I do here? I just want to know what’s happening. You owe me that.”
Her tears flowed too. I honestly believe that it pained her not to tell me what I wanted to know, but something was preventing her. She wasn’t allowed to talk to a prisoner, even though he happened to be her son.
“Tell me!” I shouted.
The SYLO guard walked up behind me, took my arm, and said, “That’s it. Let’s go.”
“No,” I bawled and pulled away. My defenses were gone. I had become a desperate, lost little boy.
“Mom!” I screamed, my throat already sore from crying. “You’re supposed to watch out for me! How could you let this happen?”
Mom put her hand up on the fence and said, “You’re safe here. Tell them whatever it is they want to know.”
“But I don’t know anything! You never told me anything! Mom, what is happening?”
She pressed closer to the fence as if she wanted to get through to hold me. At least that’s what I hoped she was doing. I couldn’t be sure of anything. Not anymore.
“Tucker?” she said, crying. “Don’t trust anyone.”
Those words cut through to me. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I wanted her to tell me that everything was going to be fine and that she and Dad would take care of things and explain it all. Instead, she issued a warning.
My tears stopped. My head cleared. That was the moment that I fully accepted the truth.
I was completely on my own.
“Really?” I asked. “Does that include you?”
Mom winced like I had punched her in the stomach. It felt good—and made my heart ache.
“C’mon,” the guard said and pulled me away from the fence.
“I love you!” Mom called, sobbing.
I didn’t turn back and it
killed me not to. I loved her too. She was my mother, for God’s sake. But she wasn’t taking care of me. Not anymore.
“That was a mistake,” the guard said. I sensed a touch of compassion.
He led me through the gate and along another corridor of fencing until we reached yet another fairway and a large, temporary wooden structure. He opened the door and gestured for me to go inside.
“What happens here?” I asked. “More questions? More searches? More tests?”
“It’s your barracks,” he said flatly.
Oh.
Inside were two rows of cots along the walls. It looked like a military barracks, with a small locker at the foot of each bed.
“Take number fifteen,” he said. “Soap and towels are in the locker. There are clean socks and underwear too. Leave your clothes on top and they’ll launder them overnight. There’s a library in back next to the bathrooms. Take what you want. Three-minute showers. Lights out at twenty-one hundred hours. Breakfast call at oh seven hundred. Any questions?”
“Yeah. Why am I here?”
He left without answering—no big surprise.
I counted forty bunks in all, twenty on each side. I wondered if any of them belonged to Kent. A few guys read in bed while others showered. With nothing else to do, I wandered to the library. It wasn’t much, maybe a hundred paperbacks tucked into a corner of the tent in a cheap bookcase, but it was more proof that this operation had been planned and prepared for. The books were brand new. Most of the bindings had never been cracked. They had been chosen, collected, and shipped to Pemberwick for the purpose of being used by prisoners in this camp.
I grabbed The Catcher in the Rye, one of my favorites. I sat on bunk fifteen and tried to focus on it, but it was a no-go. It felt too odd to be doing something as normal as reading. I was more interested in watching as the other men wandered in. I didn’t recognize any of them. Like in the food tent, nobody spoke and I wasn’t about to break the tradition. I decided to take a shower and grabbed a towel out of the footlocker, along with a new toothbrush and flip-flops. I put my clothes on top of the locker and went to the bathrooms.
It looked pretty much like the showers at school, with pump soap and shampoo dispensers on the wall. I took a quick shower in water that wasn’t quite warm enough, brushed my teeth, and headed back to my bunk.
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