Altruist (The Altruist Series Book 1)

by Walsh, Ashley

  “Anything.”

  “Why did Joseph turn your father into the Council?”

  He breathes in deeply, trying to organize his words. “Dad knew that it would get us closer to the Council. That’s it. And it worked. Joseph is about as close as you can get to the inner workings and military planning of the city.”

  The words spill into my heart and I realize that I’ve been wrong. Here I spent this entire time being disgusted by Joseph for turning on his family for personal gain and that wasn’t the reason for it at all. I realize that those evenings of family conversation over loyalty, whispers at forced school assemblies to acknowledge his bravery, that I was wrong. He is brave, but not the way people see him today. He is brave in a way that most will never know, in a way that I am not. Joseph is the type of leader that people need in order to evoke change, not some skinny girl with a temper.

  “Sometimes I wonder if I should just leave.” The thought simultaneously enters my mind and leaves my mouth.

  “Leave?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I sigh. “I feel like all I’ve managed to do since learning who I am is be less than expected. I wake up each morning with these intentions to do amazing things, to be the person that Abel thinks I am, that he wants me to be. But, honestly, I don’t know if I’m that girl, if I ever was, if I ever could be, and that terrifies me. I don’t know what to do and sometimes I feel as though who I am is completely disappearing and that the only answer that makes any sense is to run.”

  Ben furrows his brow and scoots closer so that our thighs are touching. He bites down on the center of his bottom lip, “They killed him, Cate. He spent his entire life making sure that kids didn’t go to bed hungry, and for that, they murdered my father. This world, it’s dark. It’s so dark and that darkness shrouds everything and everyone. And without a light, I don’t know what will become of us.” He takes my hand in his and holds it in the space between us. “I don’t know what the right answer is, Cate, if you should leave or not, and if you stay, I’m not sure what will happen. All I know is that this world could sure use a hero.” He smiles and it fills me with warm, glowing hope. I rest my head on his shoulder and we sit there, in the quietness of the city.

  Chapter 26

  As Ben and I make our way back into the underground fortress, I look up and see Abel coming towards us. “Cate, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he says. His hair is disheveled and sleep is still hanging onto his muscular frame.

  “Sorry, Al. I needed to stretch my legs and didn’t want to leave her unaccompanied,” Ben says.

  I stare at Abel. I don’t feel the need to explain myself and the fact that he requires an explanation of my whereabouts makes me feel even more trapped and seems reminiscent of the very people we’re trying to free ourselves from. But then I look at him, at his tired ocean blue eyes and raised brows, at his normally immaculate posture that over the course of the last day has become slumped, and I remember that he’s not them. He is Abel. He is mine, and at that thought my heart races again and I need to be close to him. I crave the sensation of his fingers interlocked with mine. I smile and grab his hand.

  He looks at me so intensely, taking in each subtle detail of my expressions and though I expected his wonder for me to fade during the months, I realize now, it hasn't. His gaze is still so brightly lit that I feel as though he can see straight through me. That he can see everything I've ever thought about him and everything I’ve ever wanted from him. The concept makes me so nervous I have to battle every instinct not to look away and kick at the linoleum floor, awkwardly. Instead I force myself to meet his gaze, every time, I force myself. I hold my focus until I see the slight creep of a smile in the corner of his mouth. I want to hold onto the moment for a second longer, and then another. I want to make the world stop and plead with it to give us a shot, one chance at happiness. I swallow hard and the push the thought away until all that’s left is the realization that I need to love him now, and hard. Because we have been given more chances than any two people deserve and I am scared to death that this could be our last.

  “Sorry, old man,” I say, pressing my knuckles into his ribs and he squirms and laughs. That smile of his has the uncanny ability to make the entire world feel at peace. Regardless of anything I will do in this life, I will not lose him, not again. Life is hard and complicated but he his not. In the never-ending sequence of breaths, he remains the same, and I am thankful for that.

  As he holds onto my hand tighter and kisses my jaw I know that we are okay again and the thought makes my stomach drop. I’ve never had an issue holding a grudge but when I know we are not okay, I am not okay, nothing feels okay. I’m not sure if that’s considered needy and if it is I’m not sure I care. Sometimes two people need one another, and that’s okay. Whoever said that needing someone or that being dependent on someone was a bad thing never loved a good person. He is mine and I am his.

  “Good morning, I’m glad you’re okay.” He smiles and as I lean into him a flash of strawberry blonde hair zooms between us.

  “Get a room!” I hear and then the blur continues running into the map room. I look up at Abel, stunned by the interference.

  “Is that…” I mumble and a laugh escapes me. “Is that the boy from the black market?”

  Abel laughs. “Yeah, Reuben’s son, Fitz.”

  Thoughts click into place and I remember the flippant boy from the vendors’ row, the one that Judah made a point of keeping information from so that his father wouldn’t have it.

  Abel runs after the boy and drags him back through the doorframe and into the hall. “Say you’re sorry for knocking into my girlfriend, Fitz!” The boy laughs and twists as Abel tickles his sides.

  “No! I’m not sorry and I don’t believe in lying!” Fitz yells and Abel picks him up and spins him through the air. Whatever pause Judah gave to being comfortable around these people, Abel shows absolute trust and comfort and I’m not sure which way to lean.

  Shoshanna calls for us from another room and Abel releases Fitz from his grip. “Oh! I nearly forgot,” Ben says, and walks past us away from the war room. “Back through here.” He motions for us to follow him into an adjoining room, the door draped by thick pieces of plastic. Fans set to high whirlwind against our bodies and the area beyond is brightly lit. It must take a massive generator to produce this much energy, I think. The room is clean, cleaner than just clean—it’s sanitized. Shoshanna and Eliath stand in the middle of the room looking toward a medical bed that lies in a corner with an operating table nearby. A man sits hunched over on the table as a medic works quietly over him.

  “Dad!” I yell and run over to him.

  “Wait!” the medic holds out his hand and I stop in my tracks.

  “It’s okay sweetheart, do what he says.” Dad looks up and smiles at me. Whatever the medic is doing seems precautionary rather than reactive so I abide my father’s instruction and lean up against the wall, waiting for the medic to finish. As he does, he stands and pulls a blue and white paper sheet off of my dad’s arm to reveal fresh sutures. Shoshanna walks over to my father and places her hands over the incision; in moments the stitches fall to the ground and all that remains are small traces of blood. The medic glances at Shoshanna, in what I imagine is jealousy.

  “How does that feel, Mr. Quill?” asks the medic.

  Dad twists his arm back and forth and laughs. “That is amazing.” He looks at Shoshanna and she smiles with pride. “Feels good as new.” He scoots off of the table and walks towards me, holding my hands and leaning in. “I’d hug you right now but I don’t want them to think you look weak,” he whispers.

  “I love you, Dad. I’m sorry,” I say and he pulls his head away, breaking contact with me as confusion flashes across his face.

  “I can take you back to the bunks, Mr. Quill,” says Ben.

  “Benny, please. You forget that I’ve known you since you were five. I think it’s about time you call me Emzire.”

  Ben smiles shyly and looks at
his feet. He still seems like the little boy who plays with a red wooden train in the face of my parents, even though he’s short for a Class 2, he’s still taller than anyone else in the room and needs to duck to avoid running into the doorframe.

  “You’re up.” The medic waves me over and I sit on the operating table.

  “I’m up for what?” I ask.

  Eliath walks toward me. “We need to leave the city,” he says, lifting my arm. “And this identification and location chip is going to make it very difficult for us to disappear.” He releases my arm and I breathe deeply. My chip has been a part of me for as long as I can remember and it being removed feels wrong. That’s the council manipulating you, I tell myself.

  “Right,” I say and offer my arm to the medic. “What’s your name?” I ask as the twenty something Class 3 swabs my arm with iodine. He glances up at me briefly and then takes a scalpel in his hand. “I want to know who to blame if this whole thing goes wrong,” I say.

  He chuckles. “Issachar,” he says as he presses his thumbs against my skin, locating the chip. “This is so much simpler with the help of modern medical equipment, unfortunately we’re being forced to slum it and I’ll be honest with you, this is going to hurt. Deep breath,” he says and I struggle to steady myself as the blade sinks into my flesh. I tug my arm instinctively as the pain surges from my tearing skin and reaches up, radiating through my body. Breathe through it, I think. “This is the painful part, try to stay still,” he says. I cannot imagine the last part not being considered painful. He forces the skin apart with a pair of forceps and a long thin tool sinks into my arm, gripping the metal square and prying, eventually pulling the chip from my body. My arm burns and pain shoots through every nerve. Issachar holds the chip up to the light and it’s smaller than I imagined, smaller than one of my nails, metallic with a small blue light that flashes every other second.

  Issachar turns to Shoshanna and asks, “Should I even bother stitching this one up?” Shoshanna smirks and walks towards me. She places her hands on my arm and instantly fills the void with warmth.

  “What happens to it?” I ask nodding towards the metallic square.

  “I think the plan is to plant them somewhere. Your movements can be mimicked remotely now that it’s outside of its organic host,” he says. I’ve been reduced to an organic host.

  “Cate, Reuben would like a word with you,” Ben says and escorts me out of the infirmary as Abel takes my place at the table. I forgot that he must have an implant as well; I wonder how much he must have hated conforming to the sector’s strict rules just so that he could keep an eye on me.

  I follow Ben back to the room where Reuben waits still leaning over the table examining blueprints of the city. Judah seems preoccupied by a pile of notebooks to the side of the room.

  “Cate! There you are. How’s your arm feeling?” he asks, his jovial personality shattering his intimidating appearance. I’m not sure whether it’s his arms, so tattooed that it’s a struggle to see bare skin, or his tattered clothes, tattered not due to poverty but rather because he simply does not care about such trivial matters. If this man can afford to run this facility, why does he still stay in a Class 1 sector? I wonder. My eyes trace the concrete walls, painted with white enamel; he must have been here for quite awhile to establish such a fortified compound. It’s then that it hits me—he stays here, because he likes it here. He likes being able to come and go as he pleases, he likes not being told what to do. One look at this place and the city’s book of law falls to pieces, uncensored electricity alone could send Reuben to a forced labor camp for life. And that, the lack of structure, the fact that this Pleb so boldly rebels against the councils rules, scares me enough to know that he should not be taken lightly, that I need to listen to him because he’s gambling with his life and knows what he’s doing.

  “Come over here.” He waves me to stand beside him. “You see these tunnels? They run the perimeter of the city. Waste and rubbish run through them and out near the border of the city, and that, Katie, that’s our ticket. We’ll leave at dawn, an hour before the patrols change shifts. Joseph procured the logs for us to work off of. We’ll drop you off at the entrance to the tunnels, over here.” He points to the left end of the map. “Now, you’ll have to travel farther this way than if we dropped you off say…” His fingers move to the city center and he taps the blueprints again. “Here. Which would be fine if you were alone, but since you’re traveling with Plebs, it’s best to use the safer, less patrolled entrance, wouldn’t you agree?”

  His research is spot on and you would think that the question is rhetorical except that he looks up at me and I know his gesture is meant to be an inclusive one. “Yes, I want my family safe,” I say and his eyes shift towards the blueprints again.

  “Now the tricky part comes…” He waves towards one of the soldiers leaning against the concrete wall. “Here.” The far right side of the map where he’s pointing shows a gap between the Class 2 sector and the perimeter wall.” He picks up a small earpiece off of the table. “This is the communicator you’ll be using. It’s government and is programmed to turn off when nearing the perimeter so that guards know when to turn back towards the city. The tricky part is that there’s a large area, by our calculations approximately 880 yards, of open space before the nearest cover, which is a tree line here.” He points to an area on the table where maps don’t exist. “Now, the area shouldn’t be difficult for you to cover quickly, but the Plebs might have an issue and since you’re the one that people will be looking for in a matter of hours, we’re going to send your parents, Willa and Asher, and one of your siblings in a front group manned by Shoshanna, Ephraim and Judah.”

  Willa and Asher. I hadn’t thought of them in days, in fact I was completely unaware that by ‘Your friends and family are safe’ they meant they were here with us, in this place. How did they explain that to their families? My God, I can’t imagine what they’ve been told or what they could possibly think of all of this. They must hate me.

  Reuben continues. “They’ll enter the ex-fill tunnel from a checkpoint over here.” He points at a sector 2 ward. “And you, Abel, and Eliath will escort the second group which will also contain Issachar and Ben. You’ll enter through a separate checkpoint than convoy 1. Ben and Joseph have already been prepped on cover stories for moving such large groups through sectors.” He sits down on a stool and collects himself, “How does that sound?”

  I bite my lip, contemplating the plan. “When does the first group need to leave?” I ask.

  “Now,” he says.

  I didn’t expect that and am in no way prepared to say goodbye to half of those I hold dearest to me, knowing there’s a chance I won’t be able to see them again, knowing there’s a chance that I won’t be able to hug them again or hear their laughs, knowing there’s a chance that this could be it.

  “Abel…” I say as he walks into the room, rubbing his arm where the chip was removed. “Have you heard their plan?”

  He nods. “Yes.”

  And?” I ask. “What do you think?”

  “I think they know what they’re doing, and I think we need their help.”

  Judah scoffs at Abel’s comment but keeps his head down, hardly pausing his scribbling in a notebook. Abel’s eyes dart towards him and I watch Abel watching Judah. My gut says that Abel is right, that Reuben’s right and I need to trust him, even if that means having faith in a complete stranger with the most important people in my life. Truthfully I’m not entirely sold. “What do you think?” I ask Judah.

  Judah meets my gaze, his green eyes intense and alive, and for a moment he catches me off guard. I don’t understand why that keeps happening. “I think it’s rushed,” he says and walks towards the tables then looks at Reuben. “And I think people are going to get hurt.” Judah clenches his jaw and Reuben sighs.

  “Everyone’s entitled to an opinion, but thankfully this isn’t a democracy and the only voice that matters is the little dove’s, here.” Reu
ben elbows my arm and I suddenly realize that there’s a very good possibility that I will never be comfortable making decisions for others. More importantly, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be comfortable with accepting the outcome of those decisions.

  “Whether it’s the best plan or not, it’s the only one we have. And Judah, I get what you’re saying,” Abel says, approaching the table and attempting to become a voice of reason. “There is a chance that people could get hurt. But this isn’t a cold war anymore, and we have to accept that possibility from here on out. That’s just the way it is and the way it will continue to be.”