I pull the onion off my hamburger.
“He told me he had dreams about me. I thought he was a tosser. It sounded like a really lame pick up line, until I realized he saw the same things I saw. Not long after, the pair of us were accused of crimes we didn’t commit and forced into hiding. And now here we are, stuck together down here.”
Stuck. Forced.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Lexi isn’t a fan of her Keeper. I take a bite of my burger and glance again at Connal. This time, he catches my eye. His attention shifts to Lexi, then he shoots me a friendly wink and returns to the conversation at his table. He seems like a nice-enough guy. “Do you not like him or something?”
“Who?”
“Connal.”
“I like him just fine. Why?”
“I don’t know. I get the impression you’re annoyed with him.”
Lexi rolls her eyes. “That’s because he fancies himself in love with me.”
The furrow between my brow returns. “Is that a bad thing?”
“It isn’t real.”
“I’m not following.”
Lexi wipes her hands on a napkin and crumples it into a ball. “He didn’t choose me. It’s not love if it’s not a choice, is it?”
Something tells me she’s not actually asking. I set my partially-eaten burger down. I’m too busy digesting her words to deal with actual food. They awaken old insecurities. Insecurities Luka laid to rest that night in the hub, when Cap agreed with my plan to rescue my grandmother and Clive, and Luka flipped out. I barged into his room, all false bravado, ready to give him a piece of my mind. Instead, he gave me a piece of his heart.
Anima, Tess. Breath of life. It’s not your safety I care about. It’s your being.
“You’re his anima, though. It means breath of life.”
“That’s just it. I depend on my breath to live. I need it. But that’s not love. The two are quite different, don’t you think?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Parties and Cougars and Snipers, Oh My
Joanna smacks a wad of gum while penciling her eyelids. Another luxury the hub never had—makeup. Or gum. The general store has both, and you can buy whatever you’d like with the appropriate amount of tokens—the currency down here beneath the decimated city of Newport.
I’ve learned a lot my first full day at Headquarters.
There are 140 residents now and according to Joanna, that number grows by the week. Anyone underage attends classes like we did in the hub, except here, underage is sixteen or younger. Everyone older works. And there’s plenty of it to do. Felix has a pretty elaborate system set up to maintain life, complete with various offshore bank accounts and a whole web of contacts that keep us stocked in supplies and information. Jobs include accounting, analyzing, recruiting, security, sourcing, procurement, health care, teaching, training, janitorial, food prep. And those are only the ones I can remember.
Basically, everybody has a job to do. There are no freeloaders; not even the Sleepers.
But it’s not all work, either. Felix is a big believer in morale. Hence, Joanna’s penciling.
“You really don’t want to come?” she asks, finishing her right eye. “Next movie night won’t be for a month.”
“I’m pretty tired.” My mother’s voice echoes in my head. You should have fun, she’d say. Go make some friends. But I don’t want to make friends. I’m not here to make friends. And even if I were, everything feels too transient for friendship. Like the whole world could flip on a dime.
“I overheard your friend Link inviting Ronie.”
I look up from the book I’ve been trying to read.
Joanna drops the eyeliner into her makeup bag and pulls out a tube of lipstick. “Figures one of the cute new guys would go for an older woman.”
“I doubt Link is going for anybody. He’s just friendly.”
“Well, they looked awfully friendly in the common room a little bit ago, if you know what I mean.”
For some reason, my cheeks turn warm. I flip a page, trying not to imagine whatever Joanna’s implying. It doesn’t work. A picture of Link and Ronie sitting together on the floor, cuddled up in front of the big screen, has that same silly twinge I felt in the private wing returning.
“Is Luka going?” Joanna feigns casualty. I’m not fooled.
All day, girls have been ogling him. While we worked out in the gym, while he played a game of air hockey with Rosie, while we ate in the mess hall for dinner. Luka ignored them as he told me about his session with Dr. Sheng. I listened, unable to shake off the things Lexi told me during lunch. They’ve latched on like a leech and there’s no Samson in sight.
It’s not love if it’s not a choice, is it?
“Yoo-hoo. Earth to Tess.”
My eyelids flutter.
“Did Luka mention if he’s coming?”
“I don’t know.” As Lexi would say, I’ve been away with the fairies all day. Maybe he did tell me, and I nodded absently without really hearing.
“Well then, don’t wait up.” Joanna slides the lid onto her tube of lipstick and kisses the air. “A group of us always head to the common room after to shoot some pool. If you want to come, that’s where we’ll be. If you don’t, have fun sleeping.”
Being lame, she means. I don’t care. I have work to do.
As soon as she’s gone, I flip another page of The Golden Compass. It’s a book my dad read to me and Pete when we were little. I’m not sure why I snagged it off the bookshelf. All it does is tie my throat into a giant knot of sentimentality. A few pages more and I set it on my nightstand. It’s only 8:35. I’m nowhere close to tired. But I slip into my pajamas, slide between the sheets, and close my eyes, forcing thoughts of Link and Ronie, Lexi and Connal, Luka and his female fan club out. I mean, really. I told Joanna that he’s my boyfriend. So why is she asking if he’s going to be at the party, like they might hook up or something?
I push out a breath. Felix gave me specific directions to relay to Agent Bledsoe. He’s to make his way to Newport. He will tell the security guard that Felix sent him. He will wait at the south end of the refugee community, near a statue of a soldier and a tank. I run over the directions again and again, my mind fixed on Bledsoe’s crooked nose.
But I’m still not asleep at ten. There’s laughter out in the hall at eleven. Joanna’s bed is still empty at midnight. With a loud groan, I stick my head under my pillow and beg sleep to come.
When it finally does, he’s already waiting for me.
“I got your letter,” he says.
“And?”
“I have no idea how any of this is possible, but I believe you.”
“Will you help us?”
“I became an FBI Agent to protect the innocent. You’re innocent. Tell me what I can do.”
“How soon can you get to Newport, Rhode Island?”
“Newport? Is that where you are?”
“It doesn’t matter where I am. How soon can you get there?”
He hesitates, the mistrust in his eyes mirroring my own. I don’t blame him. Newport isn’t exactly a place anybody visits these days. “I should be able to get there by three.”
“Tell the guard at the bridge that Felix sent you. Then make your way to the refugee community.”
“Refugee community? In Newport?”
“It’s on the south end of the old naval base. Look for the statue of a soldier and a tank and wait there for further instruction. Make sure you’re not followed and don’t even think of bringing anybody along. We’ll know if you do and you’ll never see or hear from us again.”
Bledsoe shakes his head—not in refusal, but in disbelief. “This is crazy.”
The truth, I’m learning, often is.
*
I wake up in a cold sweat, unsure where I am or how I got here. It takes a few shaky breaths before clarity comes, but even then, the heaviness draped across my shoulders remains. I fumble around in the dark to get dressed while Joanna’s snores
drown out my noise. It’s almost seven, but of course, there’s no light down here. After two weeks of sun, losing it again chaffs. How long will I have to wait to see it again this time?
I escape into the lit hallway, which is a ghost town. I brush my teeth and rinse my face, then make a beeline for Luka and Link’s room. I want to update them both on the situation. When I knock, there’s no answer. Luka isn’t an exceptionally hard sleeper and he’s not one for sleeping in. It’s five after seven now. I’m sure he’s awake, unless he joined the fun last night and stayed out with Joanna. I knock again, wait a few seconds, then twist the handle.
The door creaks open.
Light from the hallway spills inside the darkened room, paving a path of fluorescent yellow on a mess of comforter and sheets twisted around Link. Luka’s bed is empty, the comforter casually tossed over his pillow, glasses resting on a book on his nightstand.
“Link,” I hiss.
Nothing.
“Link,” I say, louder.
He turns over on his side, arm flung over his face.
A tornado could rip apart what remains of the old hospital above and he’d probably sleep right through it.
I walk to his bedside and pull out his pillow. “Link!”
He bolts upright, his hair sticking up in every crazy direction. “Who did it?”
I bite back a smile.
Link rubs his eyes, then glances from Luka’s empty bed to the pillow I’m holding in my hand. “Xena? What’s going on?”
“Agent Bledsoe’s on his way. I met him last night. He believes us.” Or at least he says he does. I toss the pillow back. “I’m going to find Felix and Cap and let them know.”
“Hold on. I’ll coming.” He swings his legs around to put his feet on the floor, his chest completely bare.
I avert my gaze. “Do you know where Luka is?”
“No idea. I didn’t hear him get up.”
“Of course you didn’t.”
Link shoots me his lopsided grin and pulls on a pair of socks. Thankfully, he’s already wearing sweatpants. “You can turn on the light if you want. Now that you’ve ripped me so mercilessly from slumber.”
I flip the switch.
He squints against the onslaught of artificial brightness. “Sorry, by the way. For getting you in trouble with Williams the other night. I didn’t know you hadn’t told him about our plans.”
“You didn’t get me in trouble with him.”
“No? He seemed pretty tense about the whole thing. But then again, Williams always seems kind of tense.”
“Around you, maybe.”
“Why is that, do you think?”
I snag a T-shirt off his floor and throw it at him. “Will you get dressed?”
Chuckling, Link pulls the shirt over his head. “So where were you last night? I kept waiting for you to show up for the movie. Ten tokens if you can guess what it was.”
“Star Trek.”
“How’d you know?”
I raise my eyebrows. “They seriously showed Star Trek?”
“Star Trek into Darkness. You missed out on complete and utter epicness.”
Somehow, I have a hard time picturing Joanna getting all pretty for Spock.
“Guess who’s a Trekkie?”
“Ralph the Sleeper?”
Link laughs. “Ronie.”
Of course she is. “What’s up with you computer nerds and those movies?”
“First of all, we prefer the term technogeek. And second of all, they aren’t movies. They’re a way of life.”
I roll my eyes. “Isn’t Ronie a little old for you?”
“A little old for me? Why Xena, what are you insinuating?” Judging by his smile, he knows exactly what I’m insinuating.
A slow burn works its way into my cheeks.
Link reaches past me to grab a bottle of Listerine off the dresser and leans close to my ear. “She’s twenty-three. I’m nineteen. I don’t think that makes her a cougar.” His attention dips to my lips. “And it’s not like anybody else is interested.”
The burn in my cheeks intensifies. I scratch my ear and take a quick step back, bumping into the dresser as I do. “There’s Joanna.”
“Joanna?”
“My roommate. She thinks you’re hot.”
Link laughs and walks out into the hallway.
I take a deep breath and follow him. I don’t get very far.
Claire is standing by the doorway, looking every inch the eavesdropper as she holds out Link’s Rubik’s Cube. “You left this in the common room last night.”
Disgust blisters inside my mouth. Claire was at the party?
“Thanks,” Link says, taking it.
Her attention slides to me. “If you’re looking for Luka, I saw him go into the private wing.”
“What are you, stalking him now?”
“Just trying to help.”
“You’ve helped enough, thanks.”
“Xena …”
I don’t stick around to listen to Link’s reproof. If you don’t have anything nice to say, and all that jazz. Or in my case, if you want to karate chop someone in the neck. I quicken my stride, desperate to get as far and as fast away from her as possible.
Link catches up with me outside the door of the private wing, a bottle of Listerine and his Rubik’s Cube in hand. He let’s out a low whistle.
“What?” I stick my badge up to the lock (Glenda got me a new one with authorized access yesterday).
“Remind me to never get on your bad side.”
“Don’t try to kill me and you won’t.”
We find Luka in the training room, hooked up to the new dream simulator with Connal. Link’s new BFF is there, too, the glow from the computer monitor reflecting off the lenses of her glasses. When she sees Link, her cheeks turn pink—a reaction that has me making more insinuations—and then she quirks her eyebrow at his Listerine. “That’s one way to fight plaque.”
He glances down at the bottle in his hand, as if just noticing it.
I look at Luka, lying on the floor attached to wires. Even unconscious, frustration furrows his brow. Poor Connal will probably be stuck in there until Luka has his powers back.
“How’s it working?” Link asks.
“They just went in. So far, everything seems to be going smoothly.”
I leave the new lovebirds to their conversation and continue down the hall into the investigation room. As I suspected, Felix is already there, sitting at the table with Cap and Lexi. The three of them are hunched over something, but I can’t tell what.
“I met with Agent Bledsoe last night.”
Felix looks up. “And?”
“He’ll be at the refugee community at three o’clock this afternoon.”
He nods approvingly.
My attention drifts to the white board we created yesterday, the one with the list. “So what happens now?”
“I’ll have Isabelle meet him at three.”
“Who’s Isabelle?”
“One of our residents.” Felix stands, buttoning the single button of his suit coat with one hand. “We found her living in the refugee community, which means she’s familiar with the people and its layout. She also happens to be quite skilled at losing a tail, should the skill necessitate itself.”
My nerves start to stir. What if Agent Bledsoe is as good of a liar as Claire and Clive and my grandmother? What if I’m about to send another innocent person to their death? “How do we know it’s not a setup?”
“We’ll send Joe, just in case.”
“Who’s Joe?”
“The security guard at the bridge. He’s a former Navy SEAL officer and a very talented sniper. He’ll keep an eye on the situation should Isabelle require any assistance.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Like Sheep
I stand in the command center between Cap and Connal, staring at the two monitors above that show the refugee community. Felix holds a walkie-talkie as he strolls up and down the aisle of computers
, each manned by someone wearing a headset. Non happens to be one of them, off in the far corner, focusing intently on her screen. Link peers over Ronie’s shoulder as she sits at a computer of her own, typing on the keyboard until a third monitor blinks to life.
“Got it,” she says.
The feed comes from Joe the Sniper’s eyepiece. Ronie rigged a tiny camera up so we could see what he sees. Right now, that’s nothing but his boots and moving patches of sparse grass. I can’t watch for too long without getting dizzy, so I focus on the screen to the left.
Three barefooted children play King of the Hill on a heap of trash. A stream of dirty water and who-knows-what-else runs beneath clotheslines bowing low with the weight of ragged laundry. I still can’t believe this exists here—in the United States. Not just one, but several. “I don’t understand why people keep coming here if this is what they’re coming to.”
“They don’t know any better,” Lexi says. “The refugee and immigrant communities I saw advertised in Great Britain—and I’d wager, everywhere else in the world—are the same staged advertisements on the news here. Everybody wants to come to America, because America promises hope. By the time we arrive and catch on, it’s too late to go back.”
That niggling sensation returns. Something’s not adding up. Our country was a hot mess until recently. The turnaround in unemployment rates and street violence happened so fast it still has most people’s heads spinning. Lexi and Connal and Newport’s refugee community have been around long before the change. So why would they think America could offer any hope?
A flash of sunlight fills the screen of the third monitor, momentarily blinding us as Joe peers into the sky. The camera jostles downward. Blades of grass and weeds poke up from the bottom of the screen, as though he’s lying on the ground.
The walkie-talkie crackles to life.
“Found a secure location. Have Isabelle in my sight. Over.”
Sure enough, the monitor from Joe’s eyepiece comes into focus, and off in the distance stands Isabelle—a large, hefty woman with dark skin and a head wrap made out of brightly-patterned fabric. According to Felix, she came from the refugee community she’s standing outside of now. Supposedly, several people in Headquarters have.
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