by Sean Platt
“You just said you needed me to convince her.”
Colton met his eyes harshly. “There were other, easier, ways to convince her.”
Colton looked at Zelle. Tears streaked the girl’s face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an orange cloth.
He reached out. She flinched.
“Just trying to help.”
Colton brushed her cheeks free of tears, almost as if he wasn’t a heartless bastard who had murdered the girl’s father before tying them up.
Adam asked, “What are you getting out of all this?”
“I’m doing my job, Adam—I’m getting the order and protection for me and my family that The State provides. Like I said, a number of Underground people have fled to The Gardens. We want to find it and bring those terrorists to justice.”
“And what of the people living there?” Adam asked. “You’re just going to attack them?”
“Only if they fight. That’s where Zelle comes in. As a show of good faith, we’ll bring her to The Gardens and she can stay, assuming they’ll have her.”
“And what about me?” Adam asked.
Colton turned his head to the side and was quiet for a moment. Finally he said, “I’m not sure what’s going to be done with you.”
Adam thought of Ana and wondered if he’d see her.
“Hold on a moment, will you?” Colton stood, walked over to Zelle, and untied her hands, then Adam’s. “Don’t do anything stupid. I’ve relayed our location to The State. They’ve got hunter orbs standing by to escort us out of here.”
Colton went to the door and stepped outside.
Adam reached for the second bottle of water and offered it to Zelle. She finished wiping her tears, then took it.
“I’m sorry,” Adam said. “I had no idea.”
“Do you think my father was really—” She couldn’t finish.
Adam wasn’t sure. He was wrong about Colton. The man had been playing him, with Adam too stupid to see it. And yet, he liked to believe that though Colton was bad, he was not evil and would have a hard time killing an innocent man.
Yeah, tell that to Hooper!
Hooper was about to get us all killed . . .
Adam argued with himself, weighing his moves. He could attempt to disarm Colton and might succeed if he could catch the man off guard. But if he failed, Adam was sure that Colton—or the orbs—would kill him.
Too, it seemed as if Colton was arranging to get them out of The Outback. So even if he managed to kill Colton, what then? It wasn’t as if he knew how to get out of The Outback. And there was no way he could survive long with the girl. Colton, despite the recent turn of events, might be their only chance of escaping The Outback alive.
But at what cost?
Adam couldn’t imagine many things worse than dying in The Outback and wasn’t about to risk the girl’s life on a chance that he might be able to take the man out. So he decided he would follow along and look for an opportunity that made more sense in terms of their survival. Still, he wondered why he was being pulled from The Games, and about the purpose of his rescue.
Almost as if in response to that thought, Colton stepped into the room holding a com to his mouth. “Yes, he’s right here.” He handed the com to Adam. “It’s for you.”
Adam put the com to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Adam.” The voice that he could never forget sent a chill through his body.
Keller.
CHAPTER 42—KELLER
Keller held the com, hardly able to believe Adam was on the other end.
It had been so long since he’d heard the boy’s voice. He sounded different—hardened by more than a half year in prison and days in The Games.
This is what a ghost sounds like.
“What do you want?”
Hate dripped from Adam’s voice. Keller couldn’t blame him. He’d killed the boy’s father. Adam probably assumed that Keller was behind his mother’s death as well.
“I don’t know what I want,” Keller said, honestly. “You hurt me, Adam. I thought of you like a son.”
“Bullshit! You were using me. You used me to get to Michael and the other Underground. You never cared about me! I’ve been thinking, Keller, and you know what? I think you only became my friend to hurt my father worse. You knew nothing would make him madder than seeing his son friends with the man responsible for killing the life that he loved.”
“I don’t know what your Underground friends told you, Adam, but I swear I had nothing to do with what happened to your parents.”
Keller wanted to explain that he just found out about the plot from Denton Sinclair, but he no longer trusted his people not to spy on him. There was a divide among the Elders, and Keller had to play his hand well, lest he be declared a traitor.
He couldn’t say nothing, though. It pained him to think the boy might blame the tragedy of losing both his mother and father on him.
Adam was silent. Keller couldn’t tell if Adam believed him or not. He had to assume he didn’t, though. Keller continued, “I wanted you to pay, Adam. I considered having Colton kill you once you got the girl. But I’ve changed my mind.”
“Changed your mind about Colton killing me?”
“I’ve been thinking: it shouldn’t end like this. You don’t deserve this. No matter how much you betrayed me.”
“You betrayed us!” Adam yelled. “You killed my father in front of the world! You can’t take that back!”
“I know,” Keller said. Scotch burned his throat.
“What are you going to do?” Adam asked. “Will you tell Colton to let us go?”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” Adam whined.
“Because the girl is our key to finding The Gardens and some of the worst Underground traitors.”
“Really? You say I don’t deserve this, yet you’re going to go after more people like me. Innocents.”
“They’re not innocent, Adam,” he said, anger creeping into his voice at Adam’s naiveté. “I know you look up to these people because they brainwashed you into believing their lies, and yes, some may be decent people. But there are also evil people in The Underground. People who want to create chaos to benefit their interests. You’re still young. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“These people just want to be left alone! They left The Cities; why not let them be?”
“Because the moment we let them be is the moment they strike—like your father did at City 1. We can’t afford weakness, Adam.”
The boy said nothing. For a moment, Keller was worried that something had happened.
“Adam?”
“What?” the boy snarled over the com.
“I promise that no harm will come to the girl. Nor you. Go with Colton so we can talk.”
“I don’t trust you,” Adam said.
“When have I lied to you?” He heard Adam start to speak but cut him off. “No—think about it. What lies have I told you? Did I hold back the truth sometimes? Yes. But I’ve never lied to you. Ever. And I’m not lying now.
The com lay dormant in Keller’s hand, and he was worried that something had happened to Adam again. He was about to call the boy’s name, when he heard a curt “OK. But if you hurt Zelle, I’ll slit your goddamned throat myself.”
Keller dismissed the threat. He knew that Adam might mean it, but he also knew that desire and action rarely came together. Adam didn’t concern him in terms of violence. Rather, he was concerned for Adam. He was angry now, and angry young men had such a difficult time hearing reason. Everything was the end of the world in their eyes, but Keller was potentially looking at the real end of the world, and a teenager’s threats were nothing compared to what The Underground could do. He could only hope Adam’s mood would soften once they were together.
“Please give Colton the com.”
A moment later: “What do you want me to do, boss?”
“Bring them to my house.”
“And if they try to escape?”
Keller didn’t like the fear and doubt creeping into Colton’s voice. He let none creep into his own. “Then kill them. But get the location of The Gardens first. Got it?”
“Understood.”
Keller refilled his scotch.
CHAPTER 43—LIAM HARROW
Liam and Katrina were about to enter the bank building when she threw her hand out in front of him, pointing into the darkness past the entrance.
Two lights were gliding along the first floor—hunter orbs, searching.
“Shit.”
“What are they looking for?” Liam asked.
“Hell if I know. Come on.”
Katrina crept toward a four-story building across the street, an ancient hotel with a weathered sign that read VACANCY in burnt-out neon on a parking-lot pole.
The lobby had no front door. Katrina kept her light off, likely wanting to avoid detection.
The lobby’s floor was split open, ancient cracked tile surrendering to vegetation and snow. In the lobby’s center, a thick, knotted tree had sprouted from the ground and stretched through to the floors above.
“The stairs,” she said, pointing toward a door with a red sign that read Stairs at the other end of the lobby.
Inside the stairwell Katrina clicked on her gun light and led the way. Each step took several seconds as they carefully claimed one, then another, slowly making their way to the second floor—where Liam hoped nothing waited.
The second floor was empty. After giving it the all clear, Katrina crossed the room and stood by the window. She turned back toward Liam, still in the doorway, and waved her beam from him to the glass, suggesting that he join her. Liam crossed the room and stared out the window beside Katrina, looking across at the bank and waiting for the orbs to leave.
Air was unsettled between them. Too much silence from things unsaid. Liam wanted to break the tension but didn’t know what he could say to make things OK.
“Are you cold?”
Katrina turned from the window with a half smile. “Am I cold?”
“Yeah,” Liam shrugged, feeling dumb. “Are you cold?”
“Well, it’s freezing outside, and there’s no heat in here. I’m wearing the same jacket as you. What do you think, Liam—aren’t you cold?”
“Yeah, but you never seem affected by anything.”
Katrina grunted. “I’m affected by plenty.”
Her words sounded friendly enough to give Liam hope that things could get better between them. Before her sudden surliness and the thing with Chelsea, he and Katrina had always gotten along well—so well that Liam sometimes felt a spark of jealousy from Ana. She didn’t seem to think there was anything romantic between them, but he and Katrina shared a banter that Ana wasn’t really a part of—or invited to join.
“Now that you know my general level of warmth, is there anything more interesting you’d rather discuss?” Katrina finally let out a laugh. It was small and slightly raspy; still Liam was glad to hear it.
“Sure,” he shrugged. “How did you get so good at killing people?”
“That’s more like it.” Katrina finished her laugh. “I got good at killing people because I didn’t have any choice. I was on my own, after all.”
She finished her sentence as if waiting for Liam. He took his cue and asked what he’d never dared to ask her before. “What about your family?”
“I didn’t have one. I lost my father when I was small. He was in The Underground; it was only a matter of time before City Watch got him. My mother was taken into custody for conspiracy. I never saw her again.” Again silence, but he could tell she wanted him to ask: “Then what happened?” So he did.
“I was put into an orphanage, Sweeper Gates, and left to fend for myself. It was awful. The boys all picked on me and the girls were even worse. I hated every second. That is, until I met a guard at Sweeper named Clancy Harris. He showed me how to hate Sweeper Gates less by giving me purpose.”
“What was your purpose?”
“He taught me to spy.” A smile returned to her lips as if they were lit by memory. “I loved it because I was good, and good because I was only eleven. Little girls are easy to ignore, and men tend to say a lot they shouldn’t in front of them, things that can be useful to the right people. Clancy was a secrets broker, selling information to the highest bidder. ”
“So, how did that turn into killing?”
“I was caught a few years later, overhearing some things I shouldn’t between people of high rank in The City. Watchers grabbed me up and offered immunity if I just told ’em whom I worked for. But I couldn’t rat out Clancy or any of The Underground. They’d become like my new family or the closest I was going to get.” Her voice turned suddenly bitter. “Later, of course, I found out that Clancy had given me up, along with a bunch of others who worked for him. Anything to save his own ass. I learned not to look up to anyone, unless you want to be let down.”
Katrina stared out the window into the snowy night as if looking back in time.
“But I didn’t know that at the time, and I didn’t snitch. I was in prison for three months before Rene came to release me. Rene was hired by Jack Geralt to hunt and gather the kinds of girls that the monster loved most. The quarter year in my cell was meant to break my spirits so I’d be grateful when Geralt came to save me and so I’d know where I’d go back to if I disobeyed him.”
Liam swallowed, not wanting to hear the rest of her story. She wasn’t waiting for prompts anymore, though.
“I was warned by the other girls that I should just do as I was told, that life with Geralt wasn’t terrible—it was even nice—as long as you didn’t fight. At least as long as I stayed young enough for his tastes. The oldest girl, Jamara, said it was still nice even after we grew up. The best girls graduated from Geralt’s most private wing to other parts of his estate. Just be a good girl and everything will be fine.”
Katrina steeled herself, bracing against the memory, taking a moment to breathe. It was the closest Liam had ever seen her to tears.
“I’d never even kissed a boy before then. So the first time he took me, I tried to pretend in my head that it wasn’t happening to me. I told myself it was a character from a flix, and that if I could just pretend long enough, it would be over soon. But my body refused to cooperate with my head. I started crying, kicking, screaming, scratching. But rather than leave me alone, my protests excited the monster.”
Another pause, a crack in her voice, then, “I became his favorite pet. On the rare occasions when he would use someone else, I’d lie alone in a room full of other girls who could never be my friends, staring at the moon through iron bars in an overdecorated bedroom, somehow colder and lonelier than I’d been in City 2’s concrete cell.”
Katrina turned to Liam’s eyes.
“I used to imagine living on the moon—the one thing that almost always helped me fall asleep. I made up stories about a family living there. I’d give them adventures in my mind, then stare out the window and imagine that it was all really happening. I thought that maybe if I could believe that my imaginary family was alive on the moon, I could also believe there was a way to escape the horror, and that there was a way I could find my actual family. But when you live in that kind of hell, childish notions are a luxury. I soon saw my dreams for the impossible wishes they were. Then I started wishing for things I might be able to do—like kill Rene and Geralt.”
“Did you?”
“I tried. I was determined to end them, not just for myself but for every girl that would then never have to follow. One night I was lucky enough to sneak a knife from Geralt’s plate after dinner. I think Jamara might have missed my taking it on purpose when she collected our dishes. I slipped it under my pillow before bed, praying that Geralt wouldn’t find it. Lying beside him that night, I worked up my courage until I was strong enough to slip my hand under the pillow and curl my fingers around the hilt. I pictured myself pulling it out and sliding the blade a
cross the monster’s throat. Torment’s escape was moments away.”
Another pause for breath, then: “But I flinched. I couldn’t bring myself to kill another person, no matter how evil he was.”
“Wow,” Liam said, not sure what else he could say.
Katrina continued, “I’ve regretted not doing it ever since. I failed to kill the monster and he made me pay. He beat me until I was begging for death, then called a guard and told him to dispose of me. I knew where I was going, had seen it twice with others, both a few years older than me. Argumentative girls were taken to the incinerator. I had no argument left inside me, but he was done with me just the same.”
“Oh my God,” Liam interrupted.
“The guard took pity on me. I’d seen him around a lot and could tell from the way he looked at me different than the others that he had a heart. Most people there regarded us women as trash, repulsive whores whose lives were only good for serving the men in power. He didn’t look at me like that, though. He led me to the sewers and said that I could never come back. If I did we’d both be worse than dead. I’ll never forget that part, worse than dead. At the time it confused me; I thought he was exaggerating. Now I know the incinerator was Geralt showing mercy.”
“Did you live in The Barrens by yourself?”
“Not at first. I spent the first few days alone, then met a family. They took pity on me and nursed me to health, but they told me from the start I’d have to be on my own once I was better. I stayed with them longer than I expected to, just long enough for me to start hoping they’d keep me around. I thought they were starting to like me. Maybe they were, but I was an extra mouth. There was one girl about half my age and a little boy a couple years older than her. The dad seemed indifferent, though I don’t think he was. The mom was saddest. I can’t remember any of their names. I try all the time.”
Katrina turned from the window, finished with the view. “I hate Clancy every day for what he did, but I’d be dead a hundred times if not for all he taught me. Being a good spy means you have to know people, how they behave, and why they do what they do. That’s what got the guard to take pity on me. I recognized that he wasn’t like the others and took a chance that he would spare me, that he would risk his own life to save mine. And he did. And then I used my wits to find that first family to take me in and help me. I did what I had to for plenty of years. And things were OK.”
