Departures

by E. J. Wenstrom

  I turn back to the screens. “I didn’t notice all this before.”

  “There was a lot going on.”

  “Right.”

  But it’s more than that. Everything about the bunker looks different. Not as big, not as scary, as I remember from that night. I do a slow turn, taking it all in again, and landing on the hatch to the tunnels.

  Suddenly, Gracelyn doesn’t feel so far away anymore. In fact, she feels so close I could almost reach out and take her hand. With so much of the bunker off limits and everyone on high alert searching for Tad, it might be harder than I thought to get to her. But I’ll find a way.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Evie

  “Crap, I gotta go.”

  Kinlee and I spent the morning lost in the screens of security footage. The hours passed away in a zap.

  Kinlee’s been balancing her chair on its hind legs, and drops back to the ground.

  “Right. Testing time. Hope you studied.”

  I laugh a little too hard at her terrible joke, releasing a ball of nerves gathering in my stomach.

  “I wish it were that easy.”

  Since I talked to Sue, I’ve tried to avoid thinking about it. But now, my heart is beating a little harder.

  In, two, three, four, five. I start my old breathing trick out of habit.

  “It’ll be fine. Wait and see. It’s going to be a case of freckles or something.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Freckles?”

  She nods. “Can’t have our perfect Directorate citizens’ skin blemished, now can we?”

  But what if it’s something real? Something awful?

  I muster a smile. “You’re right. It’s probably something dumb.”

  Maybe she can see the fear in my eyes, because suddenly she gets serious.

  “And hey, Ev, this is good. This is brave.”

  “Right.”

  The walk to the Med cabin has never felt longer. When I get there, I stare at the door for a moment. Then I take a breath and go in.

  Immediately, I feel like I’m intruding. The room is dark, the curtains pulled shut. Large equipment intrudes on much of the usually open space, and it’s quiet except for a persistent mechanical beep.

  As my eyes adjust, I realize that behind the wall of equipment, Rosie is in the patient bed at the back of the room. Why would they move her?

  The door clicks shut behind me, and a figure rustles under the covers in response to the sound. It’s Sue. She twists towards me, her face groggy.

  “Sue?” A well of guilt and awkwardness rises over me. “I can come back later.”

  “Evie?” Sue jolts up and practically falls out of the bed. She looks at her watch. “Oh!”

  She jumps to her feet and turns away, wiping at her face.

  Since when was Sue out of sorts? Or off schedule? Behind her, Rosie’s eyes are closed and her face is ghastly pale. She looks so tired. Fragile. Suddenly, my chest tightens with a panic I cannot explain.

  “I can come back another time – ” I start to close the door.

  “No! Come in. In fact, you’re late.”

  There she is. Sue’s now back to her stern, commanding self, and it’s dumb, but it makes me feel better. She opens the curtains at the front of the cabin, and the light helps disperse the mood.

  “You’re not getting away that easy. Sit.”

  She points to a chair by the desk and flips through her clipboard. I sit.

  “We’re going to have to cover everything from the most serious medical conditions, to cognitive and psychological conditions, to things the rest of the world would consider minor. There was one case where the worst thing we could find was a low IQ – at least, low by Directorate standards. Her departure date was unusually young, too. It’s possible the Directorate’s technology picked up something we couldn’t, but if you ask me, they’re screening for more than just health issues.”

  While Sue talks, she checks my blood pressure.

  “What’s that mean?” I ask.

  Sue pauses to place the stethoscope on my chest and listen to my heart. It must be pounding.

  “It means the Directorate may be using departure dates for more than avoiding suffering. To create a certain type of population. That there might be nothing wrong with you at all. In fact, if we do all our tests and don’t find anything serious, we’ll be one step closer to proving my theory.”

  There might not be anything wrong with me? I might just not be good enough for the Directorate? My fists clench as the anger kicks up within me. Knowing what this testing could mean, my resolve to see it through doubles in size.

  Then we get started. We do a full body MRI scan and a series of ultrasounds, and then Sue sits me down while she takes vial after vial of blood. I ask questions about every step, and she answers them all.

  “It’s nice watching someone else get poked and prodded for once.” Rosie’s up. Her cheeks are pale and layered with a film of sweat. “She’s going to tell you it’s for your own good. Don’t believe her. I haven’t seen it help yet.”

  I know she’s joking, but it’s also the darkest I’ve heard her talk. I look at her closer. She seems thinner, but she was already so underweight it’s hard to tell.

  I try to play along. “All she’s done so far is steal a bunch of my blood. Who knows what she’s doing with it. Twisted.”

  Rosie starts to laugh, but it turns into a cough.

  “That’s enough,” Sue says, making notes on her charts. “Both of you.”

  When we’re done, I’m eager to get back into the sunshine and do some sketching before dinner. But Sue insists on parking me next to Rosie with juice and a cookie first.

  “Fifteen minutes,” she orders.

  “I’m fine. You don’t need to baby me.” But I settle in and take a bite of the cookie. Chocolate chip. Not bad, as far as prescriptions go.

  “We took a lot of blood. Take it easy a little longer.”

  “So bossy.” Rosie rolls her eyes.

  Sue reaches over and gently squeezes her arm. “You could stand a little more rest too.”

  “Rest is all I do anymore.” This time Rosie’s tone has an edge to it.

  A stiff silence falls over the room. Sue takes in a breath like she’s about to say more, but the door flies open and Kinlee bursts in.

  “Ev!” She skids across the floor. “All hands on deck. They know where Tad is.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Evie

  I burst from my chair, cookie in hand, and race out of the door after Kinlee. Sue’s protests are like background noise in the clamor of my mind.

  They found him. It’s all going to be okay now.

  I chase Kinlee all the way back to the bunker and practically fly down the ladder.

  Then we look around – only a few others are there, waiting in the main room. They look over to us as we join them.

  “Welcome to the party,” one of them says. “You’re the first ones here.”

  “What do you mean?” Kinlee says, panting. “Everyone was rounding up when I left.”

  “Yeah. And everyone is either rounded, or rounding,” the woman replies. “Leadership closed themselves into the strategy room as soon as they were done with Liz’s debrief. Everyone else isn’t here yet.”

  Kinlee frowns.

  We hover around the main room, shifting our weight and pacing, arms folded in tight. The team grows as more agents join us. An hour passes.

  “What could possibly take so long before they can even brief us?” Kinlee exclaims, kicking the wall.

  No one answers. No one knows anything more than we do.

  Finally the door opens. Raina comes out, along with the rest of the Intel & Recon leadership. They look somber and tired.

  “We have news,” Raina says. “Unfortunately I can share very little with you right now. But yes, we have information regarding the whereabouts of Tad Martin.”

  A rise of chatter swells in response to this information.

  “That
’s all I can say for now, even here.” Raina continues, “This information is highly sensitive – and, in the wrong hands, dangerous. There are a number of questions still, and we don’t want false information or speculation driving decisions, here or among the governments we work with.”

  The team grumbles. Next to me, Kinlee huffs.

  “But,” Raina continues, raising her voice over them. “There is a great deal of work to do. I hope you’ve been getting your rest when you’re off shift, because you won’t be getting much now. We’re ratcheting this up to full force, round the clock. Starting immediately. I’ve got assignments for now until night shift, at which time I will have assignments for the rest of the week.”

  Then Raina flips open her clip board and starts reading off names and stations. Kinlee and I are assigned to the security feeds. Again. After a while, monitoring the feeds gets boring, even with today’s news. Meanwhile, outside the security room, the bunker is crowded and buzzing with activity.

  I let out a huff. “Are they ever going to let us do real work?”

  “This is real work,” Kinlee says.

  “You know what I mean. They’re all doing something big out there,” I say, gesturing to the other agents. “We’re basically being babysat in here. I want to help.”

  And all this security duty isn’t helping me get any closer to Gracelyn. I already know what the Quad looks like. I need a way to get to her.

  Kinlee shrugs. “You can’t expect to catch up in a couple weeks. If you stick around, you’ll do training and security clearances, and then you’ll get to do more. And there’s all sorts of advanced training you can do, too, depending on what specialization you want.”

  “Specialization? Like what?” I ask.

  “Analysis. New tech. Undercover. Lots of things.”

  “Do you have one?”

  Kinlee’s face lights up. “Hey! You want action? I got an idea.”

  That’s more like it. “What?”

  “Not yet. You’ll see. Whenever we’re let off shift.”

  I sigh, and kill the time staring aimlessly around the room. I take in the monitors, the ceiling, the walls, the giant map of the tunnels at the far end of the room.

  The tunnels.

  Surely if they got me out through the tunnels, I can use them to get back in. I pick up my sketch pad, always with me, and flip to a fresh page. While Kinlee and I and three other agents keep an eye on the feeds, I keep my hands busy, starting a copy of the giant map on the wall.

  Finally, something real to do.

  My heart pounds. This could actually, really work. With each line I add to the sketch, Gracelyn feels a little bit closer.

  I’m coming, Gracelyn. We’re getting you out of there.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Evie

  Hours later, when Raina finally sets us free, it’s dark outside. My neck is stiff from twisting it towards the wall of screens for so long, and my fingers cramp from all the sketching. My eyes glazed over hours ago, and my body aches for rest. Even the brisk night air is not enough to shock the drowsiness from me.

  “Perfect,” Kinlee says, looking up to the stars. “Come on.”

  I squint at her moonlit figure. Is there something bulky under her jacket? I don’t get a good enough look before she starts off deeper into the woods, away from the camp. And the beds.

  “We only have six hours until we’re back in there,” I call after her. “Don’t you want to sleep?”

  Just the idea of what tomorrow will bring is enough to make my muscles ache with exhaustion and yearn to crash into my bunk.

  “Absolutely not,” she calls back. “And you won’t either, when we get there.”

  That seems highly unlikely.

  “But – ” I start. Kinlee keeps marching into the dark. She’s fading into it quickly. “Where are we going? Kin?”

  “Come on,” she calls. “I got something for you, and it isn’t light.”

  I sigh, accept tomorrow’s exhaustion, and chase after her. For once, I’m far too curious to worry about anything else.

  Finally, Kinlee stops walking.

  “You need to get rid of it,” she declares, dropping to the ground and untangling the bulk from her jacket.

  “Get rid of what?” I plop next to her, trying to catch up to her train of thought.

  She shoves the item to the ground and pushes it forward for me to see. I have to squint a moment in the darkness before the bulk takes shape.

  “The inking machine?”

  “For your arm,” Kinlee says. “You gotta get rid of that stupid departure date.”

  “What?” It never occurred to me to do anything about it. It’s been on my arm my whole life – it’s defined my life. It’s a part of me almost as much as my eye color or my freckles.

  “You beat them, Ev. Those numbers are meaningless. Get rid of them.”

  “But… how?”

  “Just cover it up with something else. Something happy.”

  “Ummm…” Still digesting the first part of this crazy idea, my mind goes blank.

  “Come on, anything is better than a stupid reminder of your not-death. What do you like? An animal or a flower or a symbol?”

  A flower? My hand traces to the chain on my throat, then to the charm on it.

  “A rose.”

  “Perfect! The numbers can be a stem. Can you draw one to scan into the machine?”

  “Actually, I think I can.” I pull out my pad and frown at it considering. Soon my fingers are at work, and the rose starts to take shape. It’s a simple design, just smooth clean lines, and I take extra care with the thorns – a reminder that everything beautiful also holds potential for pain. Then, I fill in the stem so it’s dark, so it will stamp out my departure date completely. I wasn’t sure about this, but as I finalize the drawing, my heart swells with warmth.

  Kinlee loads up the design and aligns the projection with my arm.

  “Wait!” I was so caught up in the sketch, I’m only now thinking about what I’ve signed on for. “Is this going to hurt?”

  “Some,” Kinlee says. Then she presses the start button and grabs onto my arm, stopping my cringe. “Deep breaths.”

  I gasp as the precision laser hits my forearm, but after the first cut, the shock subsides. It burns along my skin, but I accept it as the price for my change and watch the machine do its work. It’s beautiful.

  “Wow.” The black lines are elegant and clean twisting down my forearm. It still stings, but somehow it doesn’t bother me – a reminder of the control I’m taking for my own life. That the Directorate doesn’t get to define me anymore. I do.

  Kinlee was right. This is so much better than staring at those numbers for the rest of my life.

  Kinlee pulls a roll of thin plastic from her bag and wraps it around my forearm, then tapes it down. “Leave it alone for a while,” she says.

  “But wait, we came all the way out here just for this?” I ask. We could have done this anywhere.

  “Oh no, that’s not the part we’re out here for,” Kinlee says.

  The grin that spreads over her face is even more mischievous than normal. Then she looks up towards the trees.

  Somehow, Kinlee has talked me into climbing a ladder up a very, very large tree, despite my still-stinging wrist. Even though she has strapped us into harnesses to protect us from falling, my heart pounds and my hands shake. When we reach the top platform, Kinlee stands up and points out over the branches.

  “Check it out,” she says.

  From up here, the view grazes the tree line, allowing us to peek over it. Farther out past the forest, there’s a broad concrete wall, and past the wall stretches a cluster of white domes.

  “What is that?” I exclaim. But then I realize with a twist to my stomach, there’s only one thing it could be. “Crap, it’s the Directorate.”

  The Quad felt so big when I was inside it. But from out here, the Quads look tiny and crowded. And close. Too close for something that wants me dead.
But even so, the feeling that I finally land on is comfort – Gracelyn’s in there. Maybe she won’t be so hard to get to after all.

  “Thought you’d enjoy getting out of surveillance and staring at them from a different angle, for once,” Kinlee says.

  “The Directorate never showed us the Quads from the outside. It’s so ugly and crammed.”

  “Yeah. Giant jail cells.”

  “And that’s the wall the soldiers have been trying to break?”

  Sue said there’s been three more major injuries from the bombs since I left Med. She said it’s happening more and more. As if someone has started watching.

  Kinlee nods. “Doesn’t look like much from here, but up close, it’s huge. And it’s got about any kind of tech weaponry on it you could imagine. Another soldier almost got killed today. Sue and Noah are miracle workers. But she won’t ever walk again.”

  The mood turns abruptly somber, and for a pause, just we stare at the wall.

  Then Kinlee snaps us out of it. “Okay, enough of that. We can go now.”

  I turn back towards the ladder.

  “Oh no. We’re taking the other way down,” Kinlee says. She clips a new line to my harness and unclips me from the line that protected me up the ladder.

  “The other way?” A quiver of fear runs over me from my toes to the top of my head.

  Kinlee stands back. “Turn around, sit, and push off.”

  I turn where she points and squint into the darkness. The wire she attached me to disappears off into the trees.

  “I’m sorry, you want me to what?”

  “Let go and enjoy the ride,” Kinlee says.

  “Are you out of your mind?” It would actually explain a lot about Kinlee. “I already used up my stupid decision for the night on the tattoo.”

  “You wanted to know about training. You wanted to know about how I never seem afraid. It’s stuff like this. It’s not never being afraid, Ev. It’s doing it anyway. You get used to that, and the fear isn’t so big a deal anymore. You got rid of your departure number – you’re not from the Directorate anymore. You’re one of us. You don’t have to be afraid. But it starts with letting go.”