“It ends with letting go, I think you mean,” I reply. “With this wire snapping and me dropping to the ground.”
I cling to the tree’s branch for support, my legs shaking so powerfully the leaves at the end of it tremble.
“That’s never happened before.”
“That doesn’t mean it won’t!”
“Eh. Sure it does. Close enough. What if I promise you? I swear this zip line will not kill you. You’re harnessed in nice and secure, see?” She tugs on the clip connecting me to the wire. “It’s fun, promise. There’s nothing like it.”
“No way.”
“Okay then. Don’t scream.” And with that, Kinlee pushes me out, away from the relative safety of the tree.
I couldn’t scream if I wanted to. My throat closes, and all I get out is a catching gasp as the descent begins. But then the panic passes, and I’m still here, flying through the night. Trees whoosh past me in a blur. Crisp wind blows around my head. The zip line hums and quivers, but it holds.
So this is what freedom feels like. I let out a joyful whoop before remembering Kinlee’s warning and cutting it short. Stretch out my arms, no longer afraid, and let the brisk whoosh of the wind wash over me.
Just when I feel I could fly like this forever, I start to slow and the line lowers me to the ground. I unclip my harness from the line, my fingers shaky with adrenaline.
Seconds later, Kinlee soars down behind me, her cheeks glowing and rosy.
“Let’s go again.” I say it before she is even unhooked, revved up and ready.
“Another time,” she says. “We should get back before we’re caught.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Evie
Turns out we’re too late for the not getting caught part.
As we approach our cabin, Raina is pacing outside the door. The adrenaline throbbing through me from our fun tangles up into a knot and weighs in the pit of my stomach.
When she sees us, she runs towards us and gives us each a big hug. “Thank goodness you’re safe,” she says.
“Geez, Mom. Overreact much?” Kinlee says.
But her tone sets Raina off. She pulls away with a frown on her face, her hands on her hips. “How could you break camp rules at a time like this?” she snaps.
“It’s not like we left camp or anything,” Kinlee says. “Who ratted on us?”
“No one ‘ratted,’ though I don’t know how you could justify putting your colleagues in that position,” Raina says. “I came looking for you. We needed your specialty.”
My shoulders slump under the weight of remorse.
But Kinlee lights up. “Really! What can I do?”
Raina raises her eyebrows. “You think I’d trust an agent acting so reckless? I found someone else.”
A scowl slowly takes shape over Kinlee’s face. “But I need those training hours to make full agent.”
“Not as badly as you needed to trespass on training grounds with an uncleared civilian, apparently,” Raina snaps. “Go to bed.”
I’ve seen Raina tense before, but I’ve never seen her so angry, so afraid. Guilt washes over me, chased by something even darker – a terrible feeling that the camp is in much worse trouble than we realized.
Raina turns away and heads back in the direction of the bunker. We stare after her, still shell-shocked.
“Well, I guess we should get some sleep,” I say.
But when I look over to Kinlee, her face is red and blotchy, and tears are already escaping her eyes.
“Kin?”
But it’s too late. Her eyes brim over.
“Let’s get you inside.” I get her as far as the bed, but instead of getting into it, she slumps to the ground and curls into a ball.
I plop down next to her and lean against the bedpost.
“It’s gonna be okay, Kin.”
“I know, I just…” Her shoulders shake with the sobs. “It’s not just that. It doesn’t stop, it keeps getting worse. I’m so angry. And so tired,” she sniffles. She leans into me. “I’ve never seen her yell, not like that,” she says.
“Yeah. She’s been pretty on edge lately. I don’t think it’s just us. I think she’s exhausted, too.”
I realize as I say it just how little the word has meant to me until now. The Directorate never let us get even close to exhausted.
I rub my hand up and down Kinlee’s back, the way Mother used to do when I was little, and got upset about my departure. I look down at the rose, now raw on my forearm under the plastic wrap. I’ve come so far from that rigid, insulated life.
But seeing Kinlee’s pain right now, after weeks in flux and unpredictable shifts, maybe a little order can be a good thing.
Suddenly, I miss the clean, clockwork predictability of it all. I couldn’t ever trade back the freedom or understanding I’ve gained, but it was all so simple and easy back then. I don’t think anything is ever going to be that easy ever again.
That’s when I remember Kinlee grew up right here in the camp. Has life always been this chaotic for her? That would have to catch up with her on occasions.
“I get it, Kin. I do.”
It’s kind of comforting to see Kinlee is as human as the rest of us, after all. At least every once in a while.
“I want to be a full agent so bad. And I’m so close,” she says, banging a fist into the floor. “I passed all the skills tests. I have all my security clearances. I just need to get my hours in. I can’t believe she’s not giving me those hours. They need more agents, especially now.”
I don’t know what to say. She’s right, they need as many people working on this as they can get.
“My dad was an undercover agent, did you know that?” she says, holding back sniffles.
“I didn’t.” She and Raina are both so independent and fearless, I never thought about where her father might be.
“He was on to something really big. Something related to departure dates. And then one time he didn’t check in, and we never heard from him again.”
“Wow.” I don’t know what to say. I keep rubbing her back.
“They don’t even think it was the Directorate. Just a random Licentia attack.”
“I’m so sorry.” I think of Connor, and how his father died. This is just as heartbreaking. Is everyone here connected to this kind of awful death?
“At least he got to make a real mark on the world before he went – they’re still working with the information he uncovered in Intel. That’s all I want. To leave a mark. And if I can, finish what he started.”
“You’ll get there,” I soothe. “The occasional chance to rest isn’t going to kill you. Hell, it’s good for you. We can’t have our Intel team going around losing it all over the place. Dead giveaway, in the Directorate.”
She chuckles through her tears. “Right.”
We never turned the lights on, and in the quiet of the dark room, drowsiness sets in.
“Kinlee?” I ask.
“Mmm?” she responds.
“Thanks. For the tattoo and the zip line. Tonight was incredible.”
“You bet your ass it was,” she says.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Gracelyn
Things have settled back to normal since my breakdown in the lecture hall. There were a few days of whispers and side-glances from the others, but eventually it all settled down into the usual routines, thankfully. Even Father stopped giving me that stern glare, after he eyed the little pill that started dispensing with my tray each morning. He even gave me a little approving nod.
I seem to be doing a sufficient job of acting like I am taking them, too. If only I could find a better place to hide them than my dresser drawer. It is only a matter of time before a watchlizard finds them.
“Gracelyn.” Quinn’s stern tone breaks my concentration. We’re learning about matching couples this week, and I am surprised at how complex it is. “Come with me, please. We can still do better on some of these pairings you submitted.”
Hann
a sits straighter in her chair, but her head doesn’t turn from her syncscreen.
“Right away.” I log out of my station and follow Quinn back to her office.
As she closes the door, her demeanor transforms, and she blurts out her ulterior motive: “You wanted to meet my friends? It’s happening tonight.”
“Tonight?” Where could we possibly meet on a weeknight? “But what about curfew?”
Between fitness hour, dinner, commutes and curfew, time on weeknights is filled.
Quinn’s hand goes straight from the door to my waist.
“Midnight. A place near the park.” She kisses my neck. “What, you afraid?”
I push away. “To break curfew? Absolutely I’m afraid.”
Anything off-schedule raises a flag with the Directorate, but being out after curfew has to be one of the most suspect. The worst is always assumed.
She smiles. “I thought you wanted to be involved? This is a little out of the ordinary, but – ”
“It’s against the law.” My cheeks grow hot.
She cocks an eyebrow at me. “Honey, what part of what we’ve done so far do you think isn’t against the law?”
I cross my arms over my chest. She right, but this feels different. More dangerous.
“We’re careful.” She shrugs. “No one’s been caught before – the Directorate really isn’t as good at security as you’d think. Don’t you want to find your sister?”
I want to do anything that could help Evie. But this? Even talking about it is enough to send needling pricks of anxiety down my neck.
“It’s dangerous.” I fight to match Quinn’s casual tone, and not resort to hushed whispers.
“More dangerous than having public outbursts in the middle of lectures? You need an outlet for all this rage you’ve pent up,” she says, stroking a finger down my arm. “Besides, it’s not as bad as the Directorate wants you to believe. You’ll see.”
I narrow my eyes. “Mhm.”
“I’d never ask you to do anything I thought would get you into trouble. Don’t you trust me?” she urges. “I thought you’d do anything to find your sister?” She reaches around me again, and it’s impossible to resist her embrace.
My heart tugs. She grins. She knows she has me.
I return to my desk and try to keep calm. But the rest of the day, I fluctuate between spasms of nerves and sweaty palms, between fits of terror and anticipation, as I digest the idea of breaking this big Directorate rule right under their noses. The day takes entirely too long to pass. By nighttime, I can hardly keep still.
Waiting in my room for Quinn to meet me, I am so nervous my breaths catch in my throat, and though I am sure Mother and Father have been asleep for hours, I force myself to place my feet down slowly with each step so the floor doesn’t creak.
I can’t believe I am doing this. But Evie would do it for me, no question about it. I have to find a way to be as brave as she would be. I owe her that much.
Finally Quinn appears in my window, perched on a branch of the tree that spreads between my room and Evie’s. When she pushes it open, my pulse rises in my ears like a drum, bracing to be caught. But nothing happens.
“No alarm?” I can’t believe that we are not immediately surrounded by guards.
“This disables it.” Quinn says, smoothing out a metallic tape-like device she lined over the window’s catch. “I told you, I know what I’m doing. Come on out.”
She makes room for me on the branch. The night air brushes over my face. I take a deep breath, crawl over the window ledge legs first, and peer out.
“We’re so high up,” I gasp.
“Don’t look,” Quinn urges. “Don’t think. Just slide onto the branch.”
Don’t think? Thoughts flood me like an attack, suggesting a hundred different ways this could go wrong – a broken ankle, a dislocated shoulder, even a scrape on my knee, and I am not only done for the night, but I have an injury that I cannot explain that would require medical attention. My knuckles turn white clinging against the sides of the window frame.
“Gracelyn, there’s no time.”
I can’t panic. Not in front of Quinn, of all people. Not when Evie needs me. If Quinn says this is the best way to help, then this is what I have to do. I bite on my lip and try to follow Quinn’s advice. I force my focus to the branch, and my skirt swooshes around me as I slide slowly onto it.
“Perfect,” Quinn coaxes. “Now we just gotta get to the ground.”
She swings down from the branch and steps to the next one down, then the next. I do my best to copy her, slowly lowering myself one shaky step at a time. When I drop from the final branch and fall to the ground, I have to clench my hands into fists to hide their shaking, and I hope Quinn does not hear my heaving, panicked breaths.
“Not bad, newbie,” she says. As I brush myself off, she looks me over and chuckles. “What are you wearing? I told you to wear black so you’d he harder to see in the dark, not as a style tip.”
I look her over, too, and realize her head-to-toe black is utilitarian. Heat flushes my face, and I am grateful for the night’s cover – I am in a black dress from my events wardrobe.
“It’s our first time out. I… wanted to look nice.”
“Well you do,” she says, pulling me in for a kiss. “But next time, fitness clothes. Now let’s move.”
Next time? Oh no, no, no, surely she doesn’t expect me to do this more than once.
A sharp click breaks the night silence, followed by a sudden, prolonged hiss.
I gasp and drop to the ground, my skin prickling with anticipation and panic.
Quinn stands over me. “Well, we know your reflexes work. But calm down, it’s just the night mist.”
The night mist? I push myself up and look around. A vapor of moisture is rising from sprinklers all over the backyard. I take a shaky breath and chide myself for being so jumpy. Everyone knows the Quad is watered each night for climate control. I have just never seen it before.
“Let’s go,” Quinn urges.
“Wait,” I say, struggling to will myself forward. “What about security? And the watchlizards?”
“I told you. I handled it. Security is easy. And for the watchlizards…” She lifts a small square device affixed to her hip. “This sends out a signal. Makes them redirect their commands to stay away. Okay? Now, come on.”
It turns out Quinn was right. The Quad is monitored through the night, but the patterns the surveillance cars and cameras follow are predictable, like everything else in the Quads, and Quinn navigates us through them with ease.
My heart pounds and my breaths come quick, despite our slow, careful movements. I wonder what my heart rate monitor on my digipad reads right now – it must be a record high. I can feel my body straining and my stress levels rising. This is exactly what the Directorate doesn’t want us to feel, and I am starting to understand why.
When we make it to the park, Quinn dives into a cluster of large bushes and disappears. In a rush of panic, I throw myself in after her and ram right into her back. Despite the bushes’ full appearance, the middle is hollowed out. It is fairly spacious too – enough for five of us to all be crammed in together.
Three more people – a flare of panic creeps down my back. That’s three more people who know I’m breaking the rules. Three more people who can get us caught. They turn to eye me as I squeeze in – maybe they’re thinking the same thing about me. They are all in black, and their faces are covered – one of them wears a knit cap that pulls all the way over his face with only holes for eyes. Another peeks out with bright blue eyes from a scarf tied over her face and short pushed-back blonde hair. The third has a dark cap pulled low over his head, like Quinn, and a thick beard. This is not what I expected when Quinn said we were meeting friends.
“How could you, Q? We all agreed. No one new.” The voice is muffled behind the man’s knit mask.
“Relax, C. She can be trusted,” Quinn says. Something prideful blossoms in my core at her
confidence in me. “G has been helping. This is the one I told you about. The one whose sister was taken.”
The others, previously busy settling in and keeping an eye out for surveillance through the branches, freeze and stare at me. They look at my done-up hair – now damp and mussed from the mist – and my nice dress, and I can feel their judgment scrawling over me.
“You really think she’s Licentia material? She doesn’t look like she can handle it.”
“Licentia?” I exclaim. “But they’re not – ”
“Shhh!” they urge. Quinn elbows me. I huff.
Real. The Licentia aren’t real.
Or at least, that is what the Directorate has always told us. But here they are. Right in front of me. In the middle of the dark night, after curfew.
And so am I.
As far as anyone else could tell, I am practically one of them already.
All the stories I have been told about Licentia start coming back to me. Bloody stories. Violent stories. Stories so awful it was easy to believe they could not be real.
I look around at each of them, now eyeing me suspiciously, and I realize I have further proved that I do not belong here. But my embarrassment is no match for my alarm.
“Quinn, Licentia? You… you’re all… murderers.”
C scoffs.
“No,” Quinn stretches out her arms to halt them. “I promise, she’s cool. She doesn’t understand yet; she only knows what the Directorate tells her.”
“Shit, Q,” he says. “Get this under control.”
Then she whispers to me.
“Yes, we’re real. But we’re not murderers. We just don’t agree with how the Directorate controls our lives. We’re fighting for change. The rest is more Directorate lies. Have there been times when things didn’t go right? Yes. But we’re not what they want you to believe we are. You’ve seen how much they lie to us, how much they keep from us. Don’t let them control you. Give us a chance.”
I don’t know what to say. I cannot believe I have let this person I have hardly known a few weeks drag me out after curfew, and get me tangled up in all this. What now? If I leave, I am not even sure I could find my way back on my own, let alone get safely through all the night patrols. I tug at the hem of my dress.
Departures Page 20
