by Leigh Walker
He held out his hand for me. “Okay, but I’m coming with you. Let’s go get you a phone.”
We hustled up the beach. “Where’d Kyan go?” He’d vanished from his spot on the grass.
Finn frowned. “I don’t know.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I can’t hear him. He does that sometimes. He can cloak his thoughts.”
“Huh.” Even though his absence troubled me, I hustled across the parking lot to a large field with a playground. Kids played and laughed, scaling the climbing walls and whizzing down the slide. A pretty, sweltering and very-pregnant-looking mom pushed her small son on a swing.
“You want me to push him?” Finn offered. He gave her a dazzling smile. “You look like you could take a break.”
“Oh—that’s really nice.” She wiped the sweat from her forehead. “But Max would probably scream if I let you touch him. Stranger danger.” She winked at Finn.
He held up his hands. “Got it. Can I ask you for a favor, though? We don’t have our phones, and my friend needs to call her mom to check in. I’ll pay you.” He held out a twenty-dollar bill.
“Don’t be silly. Here.” She handed him the phone, smiling. “Take your time.” She had a mom voice, sweet and doting. She looked as if she might ask Finn if he’d like some crackers shaped like goldfish or perhaps a juice box.
“Thanks.” He flashed that wolfish smile again, and I almost reminded him not to flirt with the pretty pregnant lady, even though she was coddling him.
I nodded to her and dialed my mom’s number, moving to the far edge of the bench. Finn chatted easily with the little boy and his mom, giving me privacy. He was very cute with little Max, and I suddenly wondered if he he’d lied to me about not leaving small siblings behind.
“Hello?” My mother answered immediately, sounding suspicious.
“Mom! Can you talk?”
“Oh, my God! Is that you, Riley?”
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I don’t have a lot of time. I need to ask you something.”
She didn’t respond for so long, I thought the call had dropped. Finally, she spoke. “What?”
“Did you know about the agency?”
Her breathing quickened. “Yes.”
I put my face in my hands. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I tried to tell you when you called me the last time, but you didn’t want to hear it.”
“Forgive me, but I thought you were drunk.”
“You don’t need my forgiveness, honey.” Her voice softened. “I need yours.”
“Why didn’t you and Dad ever tell me?”
“We couldn’t, honey. It wasn’t safe for you.”
I wanted to berate her about the irony of trying to keep me safe, juxtaposed with all those years she was neglectful—but I realized in that moment that I needed to let it go. There’d been more going on than I’d ever realized, and my mom had been self-medicating for reasons I could only begin to comprehend.
“Wasn’t safe how?”
“Honey, I think you understand that these people aren’t playing. They don’t know you’re calling me, do they?”
“No,” I admitted.
“Then you get it. If you cross them, you’ll pay. You’d better make sure they don’t find out about this.”
“Okay.” I blew out a deep breath and closed my eyes. “I need you to tell me. What did you know? And what was…the deal? Cranston mentioned some sort of deal.”
“I knew they were going to come for you, honey. That was part of what we agreed to.”
“What else did you agree to?” I turned back to Finn and the woman, who were still chatting.
“You need to understand something. Your father and I made mistakes, but everything we did was for you and your sister. We loved you both, honey. We weren’t perfect, but we loved you both.”
“That’s what he said.”
“Who?” Her voice was sharp.
“Dad. It wasn’t really him. It was a hallucination.”
“What did he say? It’s urgent that you tell me.”
“Just that you guys knew about the agency and that you weren’t perfect…and that he didn’t expect my forgiveness. Oh—and that he still had friends in The Division, people who felt the way he did.”
“Oh.” She started crying. “Wow.”
“It was a hallucination, Mom.”
“It was a message from him, honey. It wasn’t just a hallucination.”
“How?”
She took a shuddery breath. “He probably left instructions with some of our friends. They were more loyal than I ever gave them credit for, I guess.”
Questions whirled through my mind, but I didn’t have time for all of them. “If you knew the agency was coming for me, why didn’t you tell me? And why are you afraid of them?”
“Some things happened… They did some things I never expected. It changed how I felt about them. It changed how I viewed what was going to happen to your life. I always thought it would be this glorious thing. You were going to serve our country and protect people, and you were so special and important. But then when I saw what they were really capable of…” She erupted into sobs. “I didn’t want to see something terrible happen to you, sweetie.”
The sun beat down on me. I had to give this poor woman her phone back before she passed out from heat stroke.
“What was the deal, Mom?”
“I got you. In exchange for giving you back, someday.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You were always theirs, sweetheart. Your father and I thought we could stand it. We were wrong about that and quite a few other things.” She laughed, but it was wild and without any trace of humor.
“Are they bad, Mom? I need to know.” My eyes scanned the park for Kyan, but he’d disappeared.
“They’re not all bad. But they aren’t all good, either.” She sounded as though she’d calmed down. “Some of what they do has a slippery slope though, Riley. That’s the stuff you have to watch out for. Like I told you, don’t follow orders blindly. Question everything, honey. Don’t make a move unless it’s your move. Do better than Daddy and I did.”
“Riley.” Finn motioned for me to get going.
I turned away, but I still felt him watching me. “I have to go now. They’re probably going to tell you I’m dead.”
She started crying again. “That’s what I deserve.”
“No, it’s not. I love you, Mom.”
“Wait!” She sounded desperate. “One last thing—don’t let them know you’re questioning them. That’s what got us into trouble in the first place! Keep your thoughts to yourself, and watch your back.”
“Riley.” Finn sounded borderline urgent.
“I really have to go.” Tears threatened, but I held them back. My tears couldn’t help me.
“I love you honey,” she said, “and I am so, so sorry.”
Tires squealed in the parking lot. I turned to find a Freel truck slamming into a spot, kicking up dirt and rocks behind it.
Finn handed the kind mother a wad of cash. “Go buy yourself a new phone,” he instructed. “This one’s too dangerous for you now.”
The woman’s mouth hung open as she watched Finn grab the phone from me and rip out the sim card. He hit the phone against the metal bench, repeatedly, until it crumpled. He threw it unceremoniously in a nearby trashcan then held his hand out for me. “Your monitor must’ve gone off. Let’s go face the music.”
“I’m sorry,” I told the woman as Finn hustled me away.
Cranston waited next to the truck, arms crossed against his chest.
“Oh honey.” Her mom voice tinged with worry as she took in the scene. “It’s okay. Do you need help?” she asked me
“No.” She was so nice, I found myself near tears again. “But thank you.”
When we reached the truck, Cranston’s steely gaze ran over Finn and then me. “Get in, soldiers.”
“Sir—”
“That’s enough. You’ve done quite enough damage already, Riley. Get in the truck, and don’t talk.”
I silently climbed in. Waiting as Finn slid in next to me, I worried about what my mother had said…and what, exactly, I’d just gotten us into.
22
No Matter What
Cranston put the truck into drive without saying a word. He didn’t have to. I could sense the disapproval coming off him in waves.
“Don’t we need to tell the others we’re leaving?” I asked.
Cranston rolled his eyes. “Emma already knows.”
“Did you tell her?”
He shot me a look.
“Oh. Right.”
Finn sat, looking out the window. I had the sense he wanted to reach out and touch me, comfort me, but he didn’t dare.
Cranston didn’t drive back the way we’d come. Instead, we headed out toward another bridge over an inlet then through a quaint downtown with a post office and a red-brick library. We left the town behind us and headed over another bridge, one I recognized. A huge, deserted stone building dominated an island to our right. It looked like an abandoned, haunted hotel, a cold echo of the lovingly restored Wentworth we’d seen on the other side of the beach.
I stared at the massive structure. We’d driven this way on our one trip to the seacoast. I could never forget that building.
“What’s that—an old hotel?” Finn asked.
“That’s the naval shipyard. See the cranes?” I pointed to a construction area past the derelict building, further in toward the mainland. “And that old building is actually an abandoned naval prison.”
“Really? It looks like a castle.”
Finn was right. There were turrets adorning each corner of the building, and ornate carvings decorated the top of each of them.
I remembered Katie asking my dad the same thing—if it were a castle. Then it had been my turn to tease her. Still, the building looked eerie and had spooked us both. I’d had a nightmare about it that night, something about being locked inside with ghosts. The structure had deteriorated over the years and had grown positively derelict. Many of the windows were broken, and parts of the roof were caved in.
“Why don’t they use it anymore?” he asked.
“It got too expensive to operate.” Cranston’s unexpected answer made me jump. “They’ve tried to lease it out to private companies over the years, but nothing’s worked out.”
I’d forgotten, with all the craziness, that Cranston was military and would know about such things.
“It’s a shame,” he continued. “It used to be a beautiful building. Looters have been in there, stealing the copper and defacing it with graffiti. I don’t know what they’re going to do with it.”
“It’s huge.” Finn stared as it disappeared behind us.
We drove for another minute until Cranston suddenly pulled over by a bike path that veered off into the woods. “Get out, son.”
Finn shot me a quick look. “Sir?”
Cranston pointed down the path. “A monitor in my possession indicates that one of our soldiers is hiding down that path, somewhere in the vicinity. And the dumbass actually thinks I’m going to let him stay there.”
Finn’s jaw set. “Yes, sir.”
Cranston and I sat in stony silence as Finn disappeared down the wooded path. I wondered if he knew about the call to my mother, but I didn’t dare ask. I didn’t dare ask about Kyan either because soon enough, Finn dragged Kyan back to the truck. A river of red ran down Kyan’s neck, soaking his tank top with blood.
“Stupid—” Cranston let out a string of expletives I’d never heard before.
“He’s hurt!”
“He’s a dumbass,” Cranston said. “Idiot tried to remove his own monitor.”
I gaped as Finn brought him to the truck and threw Kyan in next to me. Finn hopped into the back, not saying a word. Kyan gripped the door handle.
“Don’t even think about it.” Cranston stepped on the gas.
There was a hole in the back of Kyan’s neck. It looked ragged, as if he’d dug it with his own fingernails. “It wasn’t in there,” he muttered to himself.
Cranston sneered in disgust. “You really are my dumbest recruit. You know that?”
“Stop it!” I balled my hands into fists. “He’s hurt!”
“Don’t try to help me,” Kyan spat. “This is all your fault!”
“What?”
Cranston smiled a little. “What’s that, soldier?”
Kyan peered past me to Cranston. “Riley asked me to escape. She was supposed to meet me out here, but she baled.”
I whipped my head at him. “That’s a—”
“So this was all her idea, huh?” Cranston asked, “even the part where you ripped a hole in your neck?”
“Yes, sir. She’s been after me to help her desert since you recruited her. Now that she has her powers, she’s got all she needs.”
I closed my mouth. I couldn’t believe him.
“Is that true, Riley?” Cranston asked, his tone mild.
I stared straight ahead. “I’m not going to dignify it with a response because I would never disrespect a teammate, sir.”
“So now you’re going to be all holier-than-thou.” Kyan put his hand on the back of his neck to try to staunch the bleeding. “That’s just perfect.”
Cranston drove toward downtown but then confused me by taking a sharp right and heading over the bridge toward Maine.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To the shipyard. We have some business there.” Cranston didn’t look at me, but he sounded cheered.
We crossed to the other side of the bridge and drove past a sign that read: “Welcome to Maine! The way life should be.”
My palms started to sweat.
Calm down, Finn spoke into my head.
I might’ve imagined it, but Cranston shot him nasty look right afterward—as if he’d heard him. Maybe I didn’t imagine it. Finn didn’t say anything else.
Cranston followed the signs for the shipyard. He presented identification for all four of us to the armed security guard at the entrance. “It’s an honor, sir,” the security guard said, his eyes huge.
I wanted to offer him my spot in the truck, but I kept my mouth shut.
We drove over a long bridge that connected the base to the land, and then he drove the truck slowly through the base, past huge piles of scrap metal and buildings and ships that were being repaired. The shipyard was its own island, its own little city sparkling in the sunlight.
My dread abated a little until he drove out past the hub and slowly approached the enormous, abandoned prison.
“Where are we going?” My voice came out high and strained.
Cranston pointed at the prison. “Right there.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer me, but after a moment, he pulled over in front of another building and honked his horn. A tired-looking man in scrubs came out. A stethoscope hung around his neck.
Cranston presented his identification. “I need you to take one of my team members and patch him up.” He jerked his thumb at Kyan. “He needs to be restrained. And no pain meds.”
The doctor didn’t blink. “Yes, sir.”
Kyan opened his mouth to object, but Cranston held up his hand. “Don’t even start. You’re being punished, soldier. This is only the beginning.”
Kyan had the decency not to look at me while he got out of the truck. The doctor led him away, showcasing the deep wound in the back of his neck one last time.
“Idiot,” Cranston muttered and drove the truck to the prison.
“Sir? Why are we going to the prison? Am I being punished for what Kyan accused me of?”
Cranston snorted. “He’s lying. His monitor shows that clearly. But I do know he’s been talking to you about leaving the team. Anything you want to tell me?”
“He asked me about it.” I swallowed nervously, not wanting to get Kyan in any more trouble.
“But I said no…sir.”
“That’s good, but I need to see some more loyalty. I need a direct display.” Cranston parked the truck at the entrance to the building. “That’s why we’re here.” He turned to me. “I gave you specific instructions not to contact your mother. I issued a direct order. You violated that, and your friend over there helped you to violate it.” He jerked his thumb back toward Finn. “So now, you’re both going in the brig.”
I didn’t know a great deal about the military, but I knew that the brig meant prison. I peered at the creepy building, heart pounding.
“Get out of the truck, Riley.”
Finn hopped out and stood next to me on the sidewalk, not saying a word. I wanted to reach for his hand, to tug on it and drag him away. I glanced behind me, eyeing the water wildly. Deserting suddenly seemed like a great option. Could we swim to the other side from here?
Cranston stalked to the door of the abandoned building, opened it, and motioned for us to go through.
It was pitch black inside. “I would rather not go in there, sir.”
“That’s fine. Go anyway. This is a good lesson for you: don’t substitute your judgment for mine.”
Finn went ahead into the dark hallway. He reached out for me. “It’s okay, Riley.”
Cranston shook his head. “You do understand that in combat, there’s no handholding?”
Finn ignored him and held out his hand. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”
I took his hand, not looking at Cranston. The hallway was dark. Broken tiles littered the floor, and ivy crept up the walls. The place had gone wild, nature coming back to claim the land.
Cranston shook his head as he came in. “Such a waste.” He used his phone as a flashlight, and we followed him down the dark hall. The walls pressed in on me, making me claustrophobic. Finn squeezed my hand, as if to say everything was okay.
But everything was not okay. Cranston took a left, leading us down an interior hallway, farther away from the exit and the light. I started breathing in deep wheezes.
“Sir,” Finn said, “is this really necessary?”
Cranston stopped and used his flashlight app to illuminate the room in front of us—a small, dirty cell, complete with bars across the front. “Get in. Both of you.”
