Blacklisted

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Blacklisted Page 12

by Gena Showalter


  Erik, Silver, and Shanel were seated at the round table, drinking juice and nibbling on syn-eggs. My mouth watered. I inhaled deeply, savoring the mouth-watering scent. How long had it been since I'd eaten?

  An alien woman--an older, beautiful Morevv--stood at the stove, frying something blue, I realized. With scales? Ugh. Okay, I wasn't so hungry for that. Whatever it was. The woman herself was a pretty pink color from head to toe.

  Sensing me, Erik glanced in my direction. He smiled. "Everything okay?"

  I nodded. Yeah, it was. My parents now knew the truth, but I could live with their upset because I'd done the right thing.

  Shanel faced me and squealed. She clapped her hands and jumped to her feet. "Camille! You're here, you're really here!"

  We raced toward each other, meeting in the middle, and hugging. She still smelled like dirt, and in that moment it was the best smell ev-er. Her soft red curls tickled my cheek.

  "Tell me everything!" she said. "Erik is being secretive."

  "Are you okay?" First things first. My gaze raked over her, noting that she appeared healthy and whole and glowed with rosy happiness. Sadly I had learned that appearances could often be deceiving.

  "I'm better than okay." A wicked twinkle sparkled in her emerald eyes. "When Silver and I left the club, we came here. He had to talk to some people about helping Erik--speaking of, I'm upset with you for not telling me good-bye at the club, but I'll forgive you because Silver told me you got sick and--hey, are you all better?" She didn't wait for my response, but continued, "Silver and I talked and laughed and played cards and Rose--" Shanel pointed to the Morevv at the stove. "--the housekeeper, made us cake and we ate it and it was so good."

  "Uh, babbling much?" I said with a laugh. But my laughter quickly faded and I gripped her forearms, holding her steady. "Your car," I gulped, mentally fortifying myself to confess. "A.I.--"

  "Cops," Erik interjected. "Cops."

  Whoops. "The cops have it. I'm so, so sorry. They were chasing us and caught us and cuffed us and hauled us downtown."

  She paled, freckles standing out. "My dad is going to kill me."

  "Erik told me about the car last night," Silver said. "My dad is already working on getting it back."

  Slowly the color returned to Shanel's cheeks. "Thank God," she muttered.

  "I truly am sorry, Shanel."

  "It'll be all right, Camille. Really. If I have to, I'll tell my dad that that bitch Tawny stole it."

  My relief was so intense, I laughed. And I don't know why, but my gaze sought Erik's. He was watching me, his brown eyes warm. Everything inside me heated as I mentally replayed what we'd done earlier. The kiss, wandering hands, straining bodies.

  "You little tramp," Shanel whispered, watching me watch Erik. "Did you sleep with him?"

  "Yeah," I answered in that same whispered tone, tearing my eyes from Erik.

  "I knew it! How was it? Tell me everything. I'm so jealous!"

  "We slept." Would I have done more if we hadn't been interrupted this morning? I didn't know. Okay, I did know. Yeah. I would have. Eagerly. Happily. "I swear we didn't do anything except sleep, though."

  Disappointment clouded her features. "That seems to be the way of it in this house, no matter how hard you try."

  "So you and Silver didn't...you know?"

  She shook her head, red curls flying. "I wish."

  "What are you two whispering about?" Silver asked in his deep, rumbling voice.

  "Nothing," Shanel told him, then skipped back to the table. "Just girl stuff."

  I followed her and Erik kicked out a chair for me--the one beside him. The Morevv housekeeper, Rose, walked over and placed a platter of that scaly blue stuff on the table, then left us alone.

  "What is that?" I asked.

  "Brentaes. They're like fish, only they don't live in water and they come from my planet," Silver answered. "My father brought the animal with him when he came to Earth and has raised and bred them ever since." He scooped some onto his plate. A fine string of slime stretched from one plate to the other. "It's good. Try it."

  I looked at Erik. He nodded and mouthed, Try it.

  Great. No help there. Not wanting to offend the host, I tentatively reached out and pinched a section of the brentaes between my fingers. Firm. Warm. A little grainy. Slowly I placed the square into my mouth. I chewed. My brow wrinkled. Not bad, I realized. "Tastes like chicken."

  Erik laughed.

  Shanel tossed a piece at me and it left a trail of slime down my shirt.

  Silver rolled his eyes.

  That's when Silver's dad strode into the room, whistling under his breath. He was wearing that half-mask; his metallic gray eyes (hadn't they been amber last night?) glowed brightly. I'd been reaching for a piece of syn-bacon so I could throw it at Shanel, but I froze, hand poised midair.

  He spotted me and stopped. His gaze then took in the rest of the scene. How comfortable we were with one another. How at ease we were in the house. Well, not so at ease anymore. Everyone sat completely still, completely silent, waiting for his reaction.

  "The guards told me the four of you were here, but I assumed you would still be in bed. Heard you held your own last night. Sorry about your arm," he told me. He snatched a few pieces of syn-sausage and left.

  O-kay. I'd kind of expected him to attack me. At the very least, threaten me again.

  Erik drained a glass of juice, unconcerned, as if there'd never been anything to worry about. "I've already told Silver everything that happened. He wants to protect his dad and the...product." He glanced meaningfully at an oblivious Shanel--who must not know about the Onadyn. "Which means he needs to help us."

  "What product?" Shanel asked. Nope, she didn't know. She heaped her plate with food. "And help you with what?"

  Yeah. With what? Escaping A.I.R.?

  Erik explained bits and pieces of the situation, omitting all references to Onadyn and A.I.R., claiming there was a misunderstanding with a group of boys from our school. When he finished, Shanel clapped happily and cheered about what an "adventure" this was.

  Had I once been so naive?

  Silver had the opposite reaction. His expression hardened with every second that passed. Obviously one of the reasons he and Erik were so close was that they both felt the same way about Outers who needed Onadyn but couldn't get it through legal means.

  "I've got to run to the bathroom," Shanel said, popping to her feet. "Want to come with me, Camille?"

  I shook my head, content to stay with Erik.

  Pouting slightly, she said, "Don't say a word until I get back," and flounced off, a flash of red.

  "There's something you should know, Camille," Erik said a moment later. He paused and dread washed over me. "Silver's a half-breed. He's part of two different alien races: Morevv and Arcadian."

  I think my jaw hit the floor. "That's--that's impossible. Right?"

  "I assure you, it is possible. It's simply not talked about. Scientists deny it, agents deny it, though a few suspect. At camp, I even heard rumors that Mia Snow was a half-breed, part human, part Arcadian. And I know some of my other instructors were aliens of some kind, whether they were full or half." He shrugged.

  Mia's face flashed into my mind. Flawless skin. Exquisitely arched eyebrows. Small nose. Silky black hair, and eyes so blue they were unfathomable pools. Almost, dare I think it, other-worldly.

  Alien and human. Wow. Just wow.

  "I need Onadyn to live," Silver said. "Which was why my dad makes and sells it. He doesn't want me to be dependent on the government for my survival. Not when that support can be taken away in the blink of an eye, leaving me helpless."

  Erik reached over and laced our fingers together. "Silver's one of the reasons this mission is so important. Silver and others like him. Before I take you any further, I need to know that you're in this until the end. No matter what."

  I didn't have to think about it. I nodded. "Of course I'm in this until the end." I only hoped the end came later
rather than sooner.

  "Good." He nodded. "I've been mulling this over and here's what I think we should do..."

  11

  "Are you sure this will work? What if it doesn't?" The words poured from me as I stared out the window of our car, other vehicles whizzing past us. It was midmorning on a bright, sunny Sunday, so everyone in the world was out and about, it seemed.

  Erik flicked me a patient glance. "It'll work. I wouldn't put you in any more danger than necessary."

  "Don't take your eyes off the road!" I gasped out. He was driving Silver's Jag manually, which scared the crap out of me. When the computer was in charge, the turns and stops were smooth. When Erik was in charge, I was jerked forward and backward repeatedly.

  "This will work."

  We were supposed to divide A.I.R., half following us, half following Silver and Shanel because it was easier to lose a half rather than a whole. The downfall: There could be another car chase and I didn't think my heart could take it without bursting a few vessels.

  Silver lining: Death might be okay now.

  Another downfall: We'd been at this for half an hour and we hadn't yet lost our tail.

  Yep, the minute we'd pulled out of Silver's drive, A.I.R. had made their presence known. They hadn't rushed us as I'd feared, but had remained a safe distance behind, letting us know they were there without encroaching on our space.

  I wondered if Silver and Shanel were having any luck.

  "Maybe it's time to try something else," I said. I didn't like being this close to those agents. Deep down I knew they probably were hoping we'd lead them to the Onadyn. Otherwise they would have busted into Silver's house and arrested us. Still. They could change their minds at any moment and attack.

  "Maybe you're right." Erik sighed. "We have to lose them because I have to get to the warehouse. I should have made an Onadyn delivery this morning, but..."

  He didn't have to finish. But. Yeah. We'd run into a lot of those lately. "You know, if I had known my trip to that nightclub would turn out this way, I still might have gone," I said to distract him, to distract myself. "Can you believe that?"

  "Yeah, I can. I think you're a closet danger junkie." He increased our speed and jetted off the highway and onto a service road. Several cars honked. Ours bounded up and down and swerved. "I wish the night had ended differently for you, though."

  "Hey, I met my objective, so I guess I can't really complain. I got you to notice me."

  "Hell yeah, I noticed you. I noticed you the moment you stepped onto my floor. You've got the sweetest legs I've ever seen and I could hardly take my eyes off them to do business. Even when I spotted Cara, I could only think about you."

  Pleasure bloomed inside me. "Really?"

  "Really."

  I grinned; I couldn't help myself.

  "Get ready for a bumpy ride." He yanked the steering wheel left and we turned sharply.

  I lost my smile and gripped the edge of my seat, sweat beading over my skin. Stay calm. Don't think about it. Soon the road became gravel, and then the gravel disappeared altogether, leaving only dirt.

  A fence appeared several yards in front of us.

  "Uh, Erik." He wasn't slowing down. He was speeding up. "You're going to hit--"

  We rammed into the fence, knocking it over the top of the vehicle. I yelped. Trees appeared in every direction, tall, green, their branches scratching the metal car doors. I'd driven past this place several times and knew it was a government-protected forest, a place where oaks were being grown and nourished.

  "Unbuckle," Erik commanded.

  Unbuckle? Uh, no. Not even for a million dollars.

  "Unbuckle."

  "I'll fly through the window if you crash."

  "Unbuckle," he repeated, harshly this time. "We're going to stop, jump out, and run like hell. And don't even think about arguing again. Our other option is to jump out of the car while it's still moving."

  Dear Lord. The trees thickened as he maneuvered left and right, right, right. My mouth dried. "I understand," I managed to tell him. My hand shook as I unbuckled the only thing that would save me from slamming into the windshield if we crashed.

  As promised, the car screeched to a halt without hitting anything. Immediately Erik opened the door, not waiting to command it to open, but shoving it open himself. I was a little slower, but was soon at his side. He clasped onto my hand and we raced into the dense forest.

  I thought I heard the hum of another car, the slam of a few doors. Then my ragged breathing filled my ears and that was all I heard. Towering bark and leaves whipped past us. The thick foliage overhead kept us in welcome shadows and the scent of dirt and dew saturated the air.

  I hope he knows what he's doing.

  "Don't worry," he panted as if he'd read my thoughts. He tossed me a wicked grin. The guy loved danger, apparently. "I know exactly where to take you."

  Ten minutes of running and my lungs started burning. Fifteen, and my legs started shaking. "I can't go much farther," I wheezed.

  "We're almost there," he said between breaths. "You're doing great. I'm proud of you. You can do it."

  The pep talk helped. Yes, I can do this. I would do this. I pumped my arms harder, pushing myself onward.

  We came to an electric fence. I hunched over to suck in a great gulp of needed air, watching as Erik removed his cell unit from his pocket. He hooked the thin black box to the fence, careful not to let his skin touch the wires. There was a spark, then another. A few seconds later he said, "We're good to go."

  Uh...what? "How?"

  "The cell unit is specially designed to absorb and disable any electrical output." He was already climbing as he explained. He stopped, reached out, and offered me a hand.

  I took it, allowing him to hoist me up.

  Once we hit solid ground, he reached through the holes in the fence and removed his phone. We maneuvered through back alleys and around crumbling buildings. An eternity passed. Soon there were raggedly dressed people wandering the sidewalks, others leaning against the walls and drinking from liquor bottles.

  I kept throwing glances behind me to make sure we hadn't been spotted. So far I hadn't seen anyone suspicious, hadn't seen any familiar faces.

  Finally Erik stopped in front of a peeling blue door. Hand scan. A pop. He shoved open the wooden door--not metal as most were made of, I noticed--and jerked me inside. Drip. Drip. I could hear the slow fall of water droplets from somewhere in the building as Erik used a piece of timber to block the door.

  "I know we lost them in the woods," he said. "We're safe now. We'll stay here until nightfall, then head to the warehouse."

  "Call Silver and make sure he and Shanel are okay." I placed a hand over my heart, hoping to slow its frantic beat.

  He shook his head and pounded forward, into the small but well-stocked kitchen. "Not yet. I don't want to distract him if--" He pressed his lips together and refused to finish.

  If they're being chased, I mentally finished on my own. They weren't, I assured myself. They were safe.

  As a distraction--I seemed to need those a lot lately--I glanced around. "What is this place?" There was a black couch, two chairs, a TV, and a table and stove. All the comforts of home. And yet it appeared forgotten. Not lived-in. Dust painted every surface gray and musky. Specks even glinted in the air.

  "This is one of my safe houses," was the response. He grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and tossed one at me.

  I caught it and quickly drained the contents, transported to heaven as the cold liquid rushed through me, cooling me down. One of, he'd said. Lord, how many did he have? "I seriously hope your former buddies don't know about it."

  Erik turned and leaned his back against the refrigerator's frame. "They don't. I made sure of that." Drinking, he strode to the far wall and placed his palms at the bottom of the left corner. Another hand scan--which amazed me since I couldn't see an ID box on the wall--and other pop. The wall split down the center and slid apart.

  "
Sweet baby Jesus." A large computer screen, several keyboards, and many things I didn't recognize came into view, all pulsing with different colored lights.

  "The entire building is monitored twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week." A stack of papers caught his eye and he bent down, picking them up. He straightened, frowning.

  "What is it?"

  "I keep these here as a reminder. See, I was too late one night," he said, as if in a trance. "A woman died."

  I could hear the pain and self-deprecation in his voice. "I'm sorry."

  "This is what happens if I fail."

  My throat tightened. "May I see them?"

  He glanced over at me. "Sure you want to?"

  I nodded and held out my hand. Slowly he stretched out his arm. I drew in a breath and claimed them, then drew in another and closed my eyes. You can do this.

  Finally, I looked.

  The images were as horrific as the photos I'd seen in my dad's office. An Arcadian female was doubled over, her expression one of frozen agony. Her fingers were curled unnaturally, her elbow bent at an odd angle. Her skin was tinted red, vessels having burst beneath the surface.

  "There are hundreds of them in need of the drug," Erik said. "Maybe thousands."

  "You can't save them all." Guilt swam through me. I'd never even tried to save one.

  "But I can try," he replied softly. He wheeled one of the chairs to the keyboard and punched in a series of numbers.

  Beside me, I heard another pop. I set the photos aside and spun around in time to see another wall split, this one showcasing three tiers of guns, knives, and other killing devices I didn't want to contemplate.

  My mouth fell open.

  "At A.I.R. training camp, we learned to be prepared for anything," he explained.

  "War, from the looks of it."

  Erik chuckled. "War, definitely." There was a heavy pause and he lost his air of amusement. "Don't freak out on me, but we're going to have to alter our appearances. I've got the necessary supplies in the bathroom." He flicked me a glance. "You'll look good Goth. Promise."

  I nearly choked. Me? Goth? "That'll make me stand out even more."

  "Yeah, but people quickly look away from the extreme."

  "You sure?"

  "Sure. A.I.R. isn't looking for Goths. They're looking for an average, dark-haired guy and a beautiful brunette."

 

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