I bit my lip. The moon glowed outside. It was a quiet flight—only me and the pilot. In other words, plenty of time to think. Too much time to think. I played with my lip between my teeth.
If I do this, there’s no turning back. And don’t forget your promise to Cate. You promised to not be arrested again. I bit my lip harder. The pain made me wince. But it may be the only way to free the Kazzies. If the public knows what’s been done to them, it may help.
My phone buzzed in my lap causing me to jump. I’d set it up after Sara and I shut down our connection, and apparently, it was working. A text from Mitch appeared.
How’s it going? We’re all wondering. :)
I shook off my thoughts as I tapped in a reply.
Dr. Roberts should be out by tonight. How’s everything in Mobridge?
Wouldn’t know. We’re driving back to Sioux Falls. Amy’s behind the wheel. Apparently, I was driving too fast for her taste.
My eyebrows rose in surprise.
The roads are passable? I thought they only did one pass through.
They plowed again. It seems the reservation is high on the state’s priority list. They had the roads completely plowed to it by mid-day.
I shrugged.
Makes sense, I guess. The MRRA and Kazzies are dependent on outside help since they’re so cut off.
That’s what we figured too.
I fingered the smooth surface on my phone as our conversation fell silent. The moon shone so brightly outside. Stars filled the sky. Only the hum of the jet engines filled the cabin.
My thoughts returned to the videos as I once again nibbled my lip. If the president never knows it was me . . .
With a gasp, it suddenly came to me how I could inform the American public of what happened. There was a way that wouldn’t involve me being arrested. I picked up my phone, the last text from Mitch glowing on the screen.
Mitch.
My eyes widened even more as the puzzle pieces fell together.
Mitch. His T-shirts. His expensive cologne. All of the food items in his fridge that can’t be found at the Food Distribution Centers.
Of course . . .
With a widening smile, I hurriedly tapped in another text.
Um . . . Kind of off topic, but something important has come up. I need to talk to you, but it needs to be private. 100% private. Do you understand what I’m saying?
A long moment passed. Tension filled my shoulders until my phone buzzed again.
Yeah, I know what you’re saying.
I quickly tapped in a reply.
I’m still in the air. I’ll land in a few hours. Can you call me after midnight?
Sure. I’ll be home soon and can call you securely from there. Just let me know when you’re on the ground.
STALE AIR GREETED me when I stepped into my apartment. It was funny how being away a few days made the air stagnant.
With hurried movements, I cracked a window in the living room even though it was cold out. The clock ticked on the wall. It was almost one in the morning. Pulling my phone out, my fingers shook as I typed a message to Mitch.
Are you awake?
His reply was immediate.
Never went to bed. I’ll call you now.
Ringing from my phone sounded loud and incriminating. I avoided the ridiculous urge to glance around, as if the MRRA had already tapped into my phone and was watching everything I did. I knew I was being ridiculous.
While the MRRA was known for tracking cell phones to monitor human movement, those regulations had lessened considerably in the past month. It was possible they’d stopped completely now that the borders had opened. Still, I wasn’t taking any chances.
I tapped the answer button on my phone when it rang again. “Mitch?”
“Forester. Good evening, or rather, good morning.”
“This call is secure?”
“Yes, ma’am, and I have to say I’m pretty curious to hear what’s up.”
“Where are Amy, Charlie, and Sharon?”
“Amy and Charlie are sleeping in their beds . . . I’m assuming. Not sure about Sharon. She stayed in Mobridge.”
I bit my lip again. It felt bruised from all of my worrying. “Can we speak frankly?”
He chuckled. “I’d assumed we would since you wanted a secure conversation.”
Sitting down on the couch, I perched on its edge, my body tense. The clock ticked menacingly on the wall. “Where have you been buying your T-shirts, cologne, food, and all of the stuff you have that nobody else does?”
He didn’t immediately reply. Only his breathing sounded through the line. I was about to repeat the question when he said, “I think you know where I buy those things.”
“The black market?”
He laughed. “Good thing this is a secure line or I’d be quaking in my boots that Big Brother is listening.” His laugh cut short as his voice turned serious. “What’s this all about, Megs? What’s going on?”
Cold air flowing in through the window made me shiver. “I want to post Cash’s videos online. I want the American public to see them, but if it comes back that I posted them I’ll be in trouble. Big trouble. I’ll probably go to prison since I did break the law when I broke into Reservation 1. It was only the President’s pardon that freed me.”
A noise sounded, like he was scratching the stubble on his chin. “In other words, she doesn’t want the videos leaked, and she asked you to keep them private?”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “You always did catch on fast.”
“So you’re asking me to help you post these videos online, and you’re assuming that I’ll know how since I have ties to the black market?”
My breath felt like it was caught in my throat. Somehow, I managed to reply, “Yes.”
He chuckled again. “Good thing you have a friend in low places, Megs. Because I can do all of the above. I can get those videos online through the Dark Web. No IP address will be traced. No one will be able to track where they originated. In other words, you’ll be in the clear and so will I.”
A grin spread across my face. “You’ll really help me?”
“Only cause I like you so much. But you’re gonna owe me a beer.”
I wrapped my arms around myself as another shiver struck. My grin was so broad, my cheeks hurt. “Deal. I’ll bring you the videos now.”
I WOKE LATE the next morning. I’d been at Mitch’s house until 3 a.m. By the time I went to bed, the videos were everywhere. Hopefully, Mitch was right and nobody would know we’d posted them.
Because if the president found out . . .
No, I can’t think that. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I twirled my hair into a ponytail. I was already leaving later than I intended for the reservation. I needed to get moving.
Since I didn’t have any fresh food in my apartment, I grabbed a homemade granola bar from the freezer and filled my water jug. Luckily, I was able to collect my laptop and bags from Mitch that I’d left in Mobridge, so I didn’t need to pack. I simply threw my bags back in my car and set out.
Once driving, the miles ticked slowly by. Mitch was right. The roads were passable but still slippery. It made for slow driving.
My fingers drummed against the steering wheel the farther west I drove. With raised eyebrows, I gazed at the vehicles ahead of and behind me in the rearview mirror. More vehicles were on the road than I’d ever seen before.
Normally, people stayed in their city, even though the borders had reopened. Traveling was expensive, and our economy still wasn’t functioning well. But today, dozens of vehicles were traveling which was doubly strange because of the hazardous conditions.
White snow glistened everywhere. The world appeared covered in velvety frosting. Since highway 12 was still closed around Aberdeen, I followed the plowed road. I had to take I-90 all the way to Vivian before merging onto highway 83. I was surprised when other vehicles also pulled off the interstate heading in that direction.
It soon be
came apparent as mile after mile ticked by that I wasn’t the only one driving to Reservation 1.
Frowning, I turned on the radio and surfed through channels until I found one working.
“. . . videos surfaced online showing the Kazzies being abused on Reservation 1. America News Network has stationed themselves outside the fence, while family members are driving by the dozens—”
I flipped off the radio. My heart beat erratically as I clung to the steering wheel. It worked! People are seeing them!
As I passed through the ghost town of Selby, I sped up. Mobridge wasn’t far. I could only hope the president would never hold me accountable for those videos being released.
There was no going back now.
WHEN I REACHED the reservation, my mouth dropped. People were everywhere. Since cars filled the road, there were no parking spots. I pulled over and parked on the shoulder just as my cell phone rang. I answered it absentmindedly as my gaze scanned the crowds.
“Hello?”
“Please tell me you had nothing to do with those videos being leaked.” Cate’s disapproving tone flowed through the earpiece.
I winced. “Um, no, of course not.”
“Meghan . . .”
My hand tightened over the phone as my gaze dropped to my lap. “Cate, I didn’t leak the videos.” That was partly true. Mitch had leaked them, although it had been on my instruction, and I’d supplied him with the videos, but still . . . I couldn’t tell Cate the truth. This was one thing I couldn’t involve her in.
“The president is working to track down who did.”
Heat flushed my cheeks. “It wasn’t me.”
She breathed quietly, her breath audible. After a moment, she sighed. “Okay. Then I’ll rest easy.” She paused. “I suppose it could be a number of people. Those videos went through a few channels before the president saw them.”
Hearing that made my grip lessen. “Really? How many people?”
“I don’t know, but at least a dozen.”
I grinned. Thankfully, Cate couldn’t see it. “You have to admit, the videos being leaked has worked to our advantage.”
Cate chuckled, but she quickly sobered it. “It may have, but of course, we don’t want to do anything to upset the president.”
I couldn’t tell from her tone if she actually believed that or was just saying that for fear of being overheard.
She took a deep breath. “I have to go, so I’ll call you soon. We’re organizing more rallies for next week.”
“Okay. I’ll wait to hear from you.”
After we hung up, my hands shook when I stuffed my phone back in my pocket. I swallowed thickly. Hopefully, the president would never trace the leak back to me or Mitch. It seemed like Mitch knew what he was doing. I’d have to keep faith in that.
Stepping out of my vehicle, I shaded my eyes in the bright sunshine. Any worries about the president fell to the back of my mind as I once again soaked up the scene.
Word’s spread so fast!
Within the twelve hours since Mitch and I had posted the videos, masses of people and news reporters had stationed themselves outside of the gates and fence. Tents dotted the prairies. People had apparently arrived ready to camp in the snow.
Everything’s changed.
With shaking fingers, I pulled out my phone and tapped in Sharon’s number. She answered on the first ring. “Meghan, sweetie?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Are you here? Are you seeing this?”
A groan escaped her. “Not yet, but I’ve heard. I’m still at the house in Mobridge. We needed to use the generator to charge Mitch’s vehicle before they left, so mine’s still charging. I’ll head there soon.” Her voice broke. “I’ll see my son today.”
My stomach flipped at the thought of Davin. It had been so long since I’d seen him. “Do you want me to come get you? I can pick you up now.”
“No, just get in the reservation and find him. Please, find him and make sure he’s safe.” She paused. “I know that something’s happened between the two of you, and I’m not asking you to tell me what, but please whatever it is, put it behind you and find him.”
My grip tightened. “I will. Call me when you get here.”
We hung up, and I stuffed my phone into my pocket, my hand shaking. Someone pushed past me on the road. He carried a sign and strode toward the reservation. A few friends followed him.
I trailed behind them, hurrying to the gates. Distant yells and chants reached my ears. The closer I got, the more I had to push through the masses of people standing on the road.
Strong wind blew around us. Everywhere I looked it was white.
The protestors all wore sturdy winter gear. More than a few were yelling their anger at the guards. Some carried banners. Most of those banners said to free the Kazzies. In the distance, someone was speaking through a megaphone, their voice blaringly loud, while proclaiming that the Kazzies had done their part and should be released and that abusing them was unconstitutional.
Hearing support versus fear and anger slowed my pounding heart. However, I didn’t know if this would amount to anything. Law dictated that the Kazzies remain on the reservation. Until that law changed, they would still be prisoners.
As the gates grew closer, a few reporters recognized me. Several rushed over. Microphones were shoved in my face and bodies pressed in on me.
A camera blocked my path, as a reporter asked, “Dr. Forester, is it true that you played a part in the removal of Dr. Roberts?”
Another reporter stepped forward when I elbowed past. She shoved a microphone under my chin. “Can you give us a statement as to what happened? Who posted those videos online? How long has this been going on? Have you known the entire time?”
With shallow breaths, I pushed through the crowd and mumbled no comment to all of the reporters that followed.
When I reached the gates, the guards stared down at me from the watch towers. I knew they recognized me.
“Let me in!” I pleaded.
They glanced to their superior for direction. I could only imagine how many people had asked to be admitted into the reservation today.
Their superior gave a stiff nod. With shaking hands, two guards opened the gate and let me slip inside.
The reporters tried to follow, but they shut the gates before they could advance. Their shouts didn’t stop. Questions for me and accusations at what the guards had done continued. I hastily walked forward on shaky legs.
“Who’s in charge here?” I pushed hair out of my eyes as the wind picked up. I’d left my hat and mittens in the car. It was a stupid move on my part. Unless they gave me a ride to town, I’d have to return to collect my things.
An older looking gentleman stepped forward. He was short and stocky. A bushy mustache hid his upper lip. From the way the younger guards gave him a wide berth, I knew I’d found the Sergeant Major.
He put his hands on his hips. “What can we do for you, Dr. Forester?”
It was a very different response to what I’d received last time. I had no idea if it was the same Sergeant Major that had denied my admittance before, but I didn’t ask. I needed to find Davin, and I needed to find my friends.
“Is Dr. Roberts gone?”
“Yes.” His word was clipped.
When I realized he wasn’t going to elaborate, I asked, “Will you take me to town?”
I glanced over my shoulder at the reporters and crowds outside of the perimeter. The chain-link fence in no way hid our interaction. I felt like a goldfish in a fishbowl. All eyes were on me.
The Sergeant Major made a stiff motion at a guard. “Get her a ride!”
I couldn’t tell from his hard expression what he thought of this sudden change of events. I wasn’t sure I cared.
Several minutes later, the sound of a truck approaching filled the air. It skidded to a stop in the snow as one of the young soldiers opened the door for me. I jumped inside and slammed the door.
Two soldiers sat in the front. “Where to, m
a’am?”
“Um,” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. They were treating me very differently to how they had only two days ago. “Take me to town.”
As we drove forward, I tapped on the mental door that linked me to Sara. She opened readily. Hi, Meghan. Where are you?
I’m in the reservation. I just got here. I can’t believe what’s going on outside. Reporters are everywhere. And there are people camping in the snow, shouting obscenities at the guards, and demanding that you all be released.
Yeah, I know. I can’t believe it either. It’s been a little crazy here. They’ve locked all of us in our houses until they can better control the perimeter.
That comment made me pause. Are they worried for your safety?
I’m not sure, but I think they’re more worried they couldn’t control us and control the crowds outside at the same time. So where are you right now?
I’m on my way to see Davin. I hope.
Will you let me know how he’s doing after you talk to him? I never know if he’s telling me the truth about his situation. You know how he is. He never wants people to worry.
Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I’ll touch base with you in a little bit, okay?
Yes, please do.
The woman soldier in the passenger seat eyed me curiously as we sped along. “So you’re Dr. Forester? I’ve heard a lot about you. Rumor has it that you broke into the reservation the other day. Is that true?” Her sharp green eyes followed my every move as she gazed over her shoulder.
I forced myself to not fidget. “Yes, that’s true.”
“They also said you’re the reason that Dr. Roberts was fired.”
I sat up straighter. “The reason Dr. Roberts was fired is because of what he did. He, and he alone, is to blame.” The words bristled out of me.
She tucked her chin. “Um, yeah, sure. Okay.”
We arrived in town ten minutes later. “Do you want out here? Or should I take you somewhere?” the soldier driving asked.
Since I had no idea how the normal policies and procedures worked on the reservation, I wasn’t sure what my options were. I didn’t know if they would take me straight to Davin if I asked, or if I’d need to fill out some kind of paperwork.
The Complete Makanza Series: Books 0-4 Page 78
