Jace breathed a sigh of relief. Then he stared at me in wonder.
“That was brash, but you did it. And you’ve got quite an arm.” He smiled.
I grinned back.
Jace turned to look around the factory, and I followed his gaze. It was dark inside, like the apartments, but unlike in the apartments, there was at least a gray glow of natural light in the factory from all of the windows. We didn’t need our flashlights in here to see what it held.
Pallets of raw material lined the sides of the factory: tall stacks of grayish lumber, a wood compactor covered in splinters, and large cooking vats greased with leftover pulp. It looked like it might have been a paper factory.
We stepped farther into the building.
“What should we be looking for?” Jace asked.
It was a good question, and I wished I had a better answer.
“I guess anything related to Helping Hands,” I said. I had begun walking toward the left side of the factory floor, where I saw an office wrapped in windows and containing only one door. I walked up to the windows and wiped the glass to look inside. It was darker inside the office, but lit well enough that I could make out the basics. A desk, an old-style computer, a desk phone, and... filing cabinets. That would be a good place to start.
Jace tried the door, which wiggled under his grip but didn’t open. “Locked,” he pointed out.
I looked around and noticed a stack of metal folding chairs in the corner. Jace followed my gaze and then turned back to me with a wink.
“Worked last time,” he said. Then he grabbed a chair and tossed it through the window as if it were as light as a feather.
I winced against the sound of broken glass. Though, if it hadn’t brought anyone before, I reasoned, it should go unnoticed again.
“After you,” Jace began, placing his hands together to provide me a stepping stool to get over the broken glass and into the office.
But before I could place my foot in his hands, our watches both lit up and began to buzz. I could think of only one reason for an alert from the GPS watches.
“Authority,” Jace said breathlessly.
My heart leapt into my throat. We were trapped.
17
I looked quickly toward the front doors of the factory. Anyone who was in the vicinity would most likely be coming through the front, especially if they saw the broken window.
We wouldn’t have time to get past them. So I did the only thing I could think of.
“We need to hide in the office,” I hissed at Jace.
It was a dangerous plan. If someone had spotted us, or spotted us once we were in there, we would certainly be trapped. But, if we somehow hadn’t been seen yet, our best chance was hiding out. We needed to get off the open factory floor.
Jace put his hands back down and scooped my foot up. I jumped up and over the glass using his strength as a springboard. I landed heavily inside, but managed to stay on my feet and move out of the way just in time for Jace to come bounding in.
“Under the desk!” he whispered.
Jace and I ran around the desk and got beneath it. A creaky rolling chair moved loudly out of the way as we got under. I winced at the sound. If we were found, alone in this abandoned town after having broken into a factory and while wearing obvious masks, we’d be done for. Jace and I were both wanted terrorists. We’d be taken into custody immediately.
Even worse, the entirety of Little John could be exposed if they somehow bumped into our airship and traced the coordinates back to Edgewood.
I pressed my face into Jace’s chest, wanting to muffle the loud sound of my breathing, but also just wanting to feel comforted and less alone. This could be it. These could be our last free moments.
Instead, Jace let out a little laugh.
I looked at him wide-eyed. Had he lost his mind?
“We didn’t even look at the watches,” Jace said, his chortle spilling into full, relieved laughter.
I looked down. There was no map on the screen. No flashing red lights that indicated Authority presence. Instead, we were getting a call from Jackie.
I pressed a side button on the watch, and both of our watches stopped buzzing.
“You almost gave us a heart attack!” I spat out, crawling out from under the desk.
“What’s the matter?” came Jackie’s worried voice. “Didn’t Nathan explain that we’d be using the watches for communication, since you guys didn’t get comms?”
“I think he neglected to mention that,” Jace said good-naturedly. I glared at him.
“Well, I just wanted to check in on you guys. How’s the mission going?” Jackie asked.
“We’re not finding much. How are things back on base?” I asked her in return. Had she really called just to check up on us? Now?
“Pretty exhausting,” Jackie admitted. “And it’s only just started! We’re putting a lot of effort into scouring maps and video feeds for agents, so you guys better not get yourselves caught.”
Jace chuckled.
“Are there even video feeds accessible for Millville?” I asked. If that was the case, why were we here in the first place? Couldn’t we just scroll back in the video to see where all of the townspeople had gone?
“No,” Jackie replied. “I guess it’s too small for street cameras. We’ve been reading internal communications instead, to determine if anyone was assigned to your area for patrol.”
My eyes widened. That was a pretty big deal. If we had access to schedules or orders for agents through Artemis, we must’ve also had access to a lot of other sensitive information. Surely there would be information about all of these disappearances.
“No,” Jackie replied after I had posed the question. “We were lucky to find the patrol orders. It’s like searching for a glitchy needle in a technological haystack over here. Even Sy is starting to doubt we’re going to get anywhere.”
Jace and I looked at each other quizzically. Who was Sy?
“Oh, I forgot you guys hadn’t met him yet,” Jackie quickly added. “Sy is Nathan’s tech team leader. Really cool guy. Little intense.”
I rolled my eyes. It seemed like most of the people in Nathan’s inner circle were.
“What do you mean, not going to get anywhere?” Jace asked.
Jackie sighed on the other end. “Well, like Nathan said, we can’t go running through the software looking at things blindly. It’s exhausting work keeping the virus in the system and undetected in the first place, and we have to keep it as subtle as possible. We have to know exactly what we’re looking for.”
“So, you’re hoping we’ve found something on Helping Hands already that you can start searching for?” I asked, finally getting it.
“Well… yeah,” Jackie said hesitantly. “I was just checking.”
“Jackie, I promise you will be the first person to know when we find out more about Helping Hands. But until then, how about if we call you, unless it’s an emergency,” I said. I didn’t want to be rude, but any more unnecessary buzzing was going to fry my already delicate nerves.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jackie said playfully. “Just remember to call if you find a clue!”
I ended the call and turned to Jace, who shrugged with a smile.
“I’m sure they’re just ready to start getting shift breaks,” he said.
We turned our attention back to the office, intent on finding something for Jackie and the rest of the team to start searching for. The computer was so old that it was plugged into the wall, and would obviously be useless without running power, so I walked over to the first filing cabinet. It was probably locked, like everything else in the factory so far. But I gave it a good tug to make sure.
With a creak and a jerk, the cabinet sprang open, and a row of files rolled out under my nose. Jackpot.
Jace walked over. “What are the files?” he asked.
I began to thumb through dusty and densely packed folders. “I can’t read them. Shine your light on them for me,” I told Jace.
His watch-light flicked on, and I started poring over the files. Abbott, Abney, Acker, Acosta, Addams...
“They’re personnel files,” I said excitedly.
Jace sighed. “That probably won’t lead us to Helping Hands,” he said. But then he realized the implication. “Oh… your parents.”
My heart raced as I looked down at the bottom drawer of the cabinet. It looked like this cabinet held A-D. I closed the cabinet and looked down the line. There were four file cabinets total. Juno Jones. I opened the second file cabinet and rifled down to the bottom. E through K! Juno, if she had been employed, would be here.
I fingered through the files until I landed on the Js.
Jacobs, Jagger, Jain...
I skimmed ahead a few dozen files.
Jefferson, Jeffs, Jelks...
I jumped forward again.
Johann, John, Jolie... Jones.
I snatched up the folder. There was only one Jones. If this wasn’t her, then she wasn’t in here.
My fingers trembled as I opened the thick manila. I was surprised at the heft of this particular folder. It seemed more than double the size of the others. Inside, I was dismayed not to find a picture. But there was an employee information file right in front.
Employee ID: 6754
Employee Name: Jones, Juno
Jones was a common last name. Juno was not a common first name. What were the odds that there was another Juno Jones working in the factory that my parents had lived by? It had to be her. It had to be my mother.
A tear rolled down my cheek. I wasn’t expecting to feel so emotional at just the sight of her name.
“Is it your mother?” Jace asked.
I turned toward him with a smile. “I think so,” I choked out through tears. He put a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I took the folder over to the desk and sat down on the rolling chair, laying the pages open on the desk. Jace, ever the gentleman and pillar of support, directed his flashlight at the paper so I could read unencumbered.
Apartment: 67B
Status: Probationary
Probationary? Did that mean my mother was on some sort of final-warning employee status?
I flipped through the pages under the employee information sheet. Employee write-up, employee write-up, employee write-up… ad nauseum.
“Seems like kind of a troublemaker,” Jace said jokingly.
But I couldn’t understand. Who was this woman? Was she violent? Was she a thief? I had always pictured my mother as a reflection of myself. I thought she might have been inquisitive and headstrong, maybe a little neurotic, but I definitely didn’t picture her as a criminal. I began reading the first write-up, wondering what she’d gotten into so much trouble over.
Notes: Employee finished job duties of coworker (7158) when coworker complained of feeling ill. Didn’t inform supervisor.
I furrowed my brow. That didn’t seem so bad. Why write her up as long as the work was getting done?
I pulled down the next write-up.
Notes: Employee overheard complaining of low wages to coworker (9412).
Actions Taken by Management: Docked a day’s pay.
I felt a surge of anger. She hadn’t even directly complained and she was punished so extremely! A day’s pay could’ve meant a day’s meals. I flipped to the next write-up.
Notes: Employee rendered CPR to coworker (2148) after apparent heatstroke. Would not cease even at manager’s behest. Told manager to “shove it.”
The tears started to spill over. She wasn’t a criminal. She sounded wonderful. She had stood up for herself and for her friends. She had tried to save a coworker’s life. And she had a fighting spirit. As the tears came, laughter started sputtering out of me as well. I couldn’t understand it. But soon I was doubled over in crying laughter, trying to continue to read through my tears and wheezes.
Jace looked at me wide-eyed momentarily, but then smiled and offered an observation.
“I guess that’s where you got it from,” he quipped. Then he began to laugh as well.
I leaned against him, and he hugged me tight as I laughed and cried at Juno Jones’s antics. She seemed brave and helpful. Even if I wasn’t wanted, even if I had been a burden or a worry, at least this much was true: Juno was an interesting character, albeit a terrible employee. I wiped my eyes with my sleeves and stood again, walking to the last file cabinet to begin to thumb through it.
Worthy, Woznick, Wray... Wrigley. No Wright. I was disappointed to see that Culver didn’t have a file, and unsure what it might mean. Had he never been employed, or was he just not employed at the time of the abandonment? Maybe his file was somewhere else. Maybe sitting in a “promotions” pile to have its title changed. Or maybe a “demotions” file. Or maybe he had left the town long ago, or even died. But I didn’t really want to consider that possibility. I sighed. There was no telling.
Jace looked over my shoulder.
“Robin, I hate to say it, but the rain has let up. Maybe we should get back to the airship while we still can,” he said gently. “We have more towns to explore. We have to find something on Helping Hands.”
As much as I wanted to stay and look at everything, I knew he was right. I placed Juno’s folder back in the cabinet.
“Don’t you want to take it?” Jace asked.
“If anyone came back and audited these, they’d know it was gone. I can’t put Juno in danger,” I said resolutely. I wanted to take my mother’s folder. I wanted to read every word. I wanted to keep the information forever, to look back on it and smile at it. Maybe one day I’d even get to laugh over the information with Juno herself. But I knew it wasn’t the smart thing to do. And I didn’t think I had time to stand here taking pictures of it all.
I closed the filing cabinet gently, and Jace and I crawled back over the glass and out of the window. He took a few meandering steps forward onto the wide open space of the factory floor and looked around. I struggled slightly to get out of the window behind him.
“Robin, look!” Jace called as I landed on my feet on the other side of the office window.
I walked over to where Jace was standing close to the main factory entrance. There was a poster on the wall. It was mostly text, but it had a large red image in the middle of hands outstretched and cupping a small cornucopia.
All employees MUST sign up to receive unemployment benefits. Please see your Helping Hands coordinator before factory closure date. No exceptions!
“Helping Hands,” I said aloud. It was the same organization that we had discussed in the interrogation room. And Nathan said they had found information on Helping Hands that tied back to these disappearances. This seemed to confirm it, or was at least a connection. Proof that Helping Hands had been here.
We needed to understand why, though.
“I guess they were providing food to people after the factory closed,” Jace said. “Which means they would’ve been here right before people started disappearing.”
He swiped through his watch until he landed on a camera, then snapped a picture of the poster.
“Do you think they’re related to the disappearances?” I asked Jace.
“Well, I have a hard time believing that this welfare group just so happens to be involved with detention centers and populations that go missing without an agenda,” he replied.
It was a good point. There wasn’t a lot of charity work anymore, since the regime had ceased all tax-exempt statuses some years ago. Honestly, people had become so concerned about their own continued existence that charities had gone right out of business. So what was this group doing, and why were they working so closely with the government itself?
But this was all we had found so far. We needed to get to some of the other towns to see if there were more references to Helping Hands there. Maybe something more definitive.
Jace and I strode quickly back to the broken factory window, where he held my hand as I stepped precariously over the sharp shards jutting out from the frame. We passed t
he factory gates on our way out and began to walk toward the airship.
“Do you think maybe—” I began. I was going to ask Jace if we could stop by the apartments one more time. Now that we knew Juno had lived in 67B, maybe we’d be able to find her home. Maybe it’d be unlocked. Maybe I’d find more information about my parents inside. But then our watches began to buzz simultaneously.
Surely this wasn’t another ill-timed call from Little John headquarters.
I looked down at the screen to see that it wasn’t a call. Instead, the map had come up, the location hovering over our exact position at the north end of Millville, near the factory. A dozen little red dots were in Millville with us.
Agents. Agents headed directly toward us from the road that ran north of the factory.
“Run,” Jace breathed.
And then he took off toward the airship.
18
My shock was initially too strong for my fear to overcome. We weren’t alone in Millville. There were agents north of the factory that we had just been in. According to our GPS watches, they were coming down the very road that Jace and I were on, and they were coming fast. I processed all of that information in less than a second and heard Jace telling me to run. But it took seeing him bounding away down the broken main street of Millville before my synapses finally started firing again. My muscles sprang to life, and I began to race after him.
We had to get back to the ship.
The main street was a downward slope leading back to the woods we had left the airship in. But we were at least a full mile away from the mucky clearing that we had landed in. And according to our GPS watches, the agents were about a half mile behind us, and coming down the road fast, likely in patrol vehicles. They’d overtake us shortly.
“Jace!” I hissed to his back several feet ahead of me. He was fast, but I was keeping pace.
He didn’t slow down. He turned over his shoulder to acknowledge me, but continued to run.
I tried to keep my voice down through my panting breaths.
“We can’t outrun them in a straight line,” I spat out.
The Child Thief 5: Ghost Towns Page 17
