by Stacey Nash
I stumble, a little off balance. Ace butts into my leg again, whining and demanding attention. When I give it to him he drops to his haunches. My fingers find his head and ruffle the shaggy black fur. He’s not a bad dog, but right now, it’s like he wants constant reassurance. His usual nips, leaps and bounces are gone, as if he senses the mood around him. Or maybe he just misses Jax.
I walk into the workshop and Marcus looks up from fiddling with an ancient-looking scooter. He dips his head. “Will.”
“Marcus.” I nod. “I need surveillance gear.”
He looks me right in the eye for a long beat while silence hangs awkwardly between us. Maybe Lilly was wrong and he won’t actually help.
“I thought you were sensible. That you’d wait for Beau. Not rush off alone.”
I don’t answer, just level him with a stare. My neck and shoulders twang with tension so I roll my neck for a little relief. Still silence. “Forget it,” I say, turning away. Tech or not, I’m still going. It’d be easier with it but I’m not pushing the point. I just need to go, ’cause really, it can’t hurt to check things out.
Just as my hand hits the door he calls, “Will.”
I stop, draw in a deep breath and turn. His eyes are fixed on the gadget he was working on, shaking his head, and mumbling, but I can’t hear him. “What?”
“I’ve got stuff that you could probably use.”
I let out a long breath. Relief, no doubt, unclenching my gut.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Sorry they took her and sorry you got dragged into this world in the first place.”
I’m sorry too. Sorry I left her side. He heads to the metal cabinet and there’s nothing left to say. He yanks telcoms and protect-its and other stuff I’m not familiar with out of storage and piles them in his crooked arm. His glasses slide down his nose as he looks up at me. “At least Jax is with her.”
My hands ball into fists. “Jax is with her?” I try to keep the quiver out of my voice. “Why does everyone keep telling me it’s okay because Jax is with her? It’s not okay. We don’t know they’re together and Jax might not look out for her.” My voice rises with each new word, pounding the point home. “Jax is the one who got her in all that trouble before. It’s no better that Jax is damn well with her.”
Marcus stops searching the cabinet, his shoulders curl inwards and he turns around. “I’m sorry.”
I shift my weight. Maybe that was out of line, but it’s hard to care even if Marcus was only trying to make me feel better. I blow air out, expelling all my hurt and anger with it, then suck in a calming breath and grind out, “Sorry, Marcus.”
He blinks, his eyes buggy through his glasses and guilt gets the best of me. Taking it out on other people won’t help my cause. I try to offer a smile but it falls flat. He turns back to the cabinet, extracts one last thing, and spins around muttering, “I still don’t get why they didn’t take our tech.”
It doesn’t make any sense to me either, the fact they only took prisoners and not a single piece of tech. My thoughts jump ahead. No tech, only people. Jax and Mae. Mae and Jax … Hell no. Mae’s pendant. “Their mission could have been for tech, but we stopped it.”
I assumed they came looking for the Tarlequin on Manvyke’s orders. Despite what Jax thinks, I don’t think there’s any way he’d let that thing go but if they didn’t take any tech … or … my mind shifts into overdrive; the cover-up. They took her because of the fricking Tarlequin. Was she wearing it?
“They didn’t even look for tech, that I’m aware,” Marcus says.
“Did they ask about it?”
“I don’t think so.”
Oh yeah, he wasn’t in the skirmish, he was here in the workshop cowering under a bench. With his wiry frame, I’d have done the same. Not. He returns to the bench, dropping his armload of tech onto it.
“Did Mae’s have her cover-up?”
“I’ve got it.”
My hopes soar and sink at the same time. Manvyke doesn’t have it, which is frickin’ awesome, but then neither does she. She’s got nothing to help her escape. If it’s here though, it can’t be taken from her. Jeez neither are good options. I guess it doesn’t matter now anyhow. It is how it is.
I scan the room, the bench, the shelves, but I don’t see it.
Marcus holds his hand out with the silver chain curled like a snake in his open palm. Light glints off the glazed pendant resting on top of the chain. The brooch is nestled in his hand too. I’ve never been so damn happy to see the coin sized forget-me-not.
“I thought you’d come for it sooner,” he says.
“I would have, but I forgot about it.” I snatch it up. Even though it’s pretty darn girly I pull the chain over my head, and the cool metal drops against my chest. Somehow the thing makes me instantly feel like she’s standing right beside me. Thrusting the brooch into my pocket, I swallow against the ever-present lump in my throat. Marcus looks away, and I appreciate the privacy as I rub my thumb over the brooch in my pocket. It’s hers. It’s safe. And it’s like I have a part of her with me.
Marcus starts sorting through the stuff on the workbench. Binoculars, a camera, rope, and something that looks like it could be a tracking system. “It’s not tech, but here are a few items that might be of use.” He bends, reaching into the drawers under the bench. “Are you going alone?”
“No.”
He tosses a pair of telcom and protect-its onto the bench. “That’s about the best I can do.”
“Thanks.” I gather all the gear. “Come on, Ace. Time to find them.”
Chapter Eight
Will
Dust billows around me and Lilly as we speed away from the safe house. Her hands rest on my waist, the pressure not tight or loose. This road is so familiar I feel as though I could close my eyes and I’d be riding with Mae along the bumpy dirt tracks of the reserve we used to ride with the old dirt bike. Or if I close them, this bike could almost take us all the way home, it’s traveled the road that often. Pity my sleek red beauty isn’t tech. She’s just a regular road bike, so I focus on the road before us.
The long ride to the city is quiet of everything but my thoughts and the engine’s hum. Lilly’s incessant chatter seems to have taken a hike, which is a godsend. Since my strength to be polite is waning.
All kinds of dumbass thoughts swim through my head, even my kid sister Emalee and her squealing friends. Glad I’m not home for that sleepover. My car sitting abandoned on the lawn, not coming any closer to being finished. Richard Gilbert wandering around the farm like a lost kid instead of sitting safely in his living room where he and Mae should both be.
Mae.
When we veer off the highway into my home suburb, the sun shines high in the sky. Lilly put up a good argument but I won out in the end. Bottom line was we couldn’t wait any longer. At least I couldn’t. She probably could and didn’t have to come with me, but she insisted. Maybe she’s worried I’ll do something stupid, but I’m not Mae.
Through suburbia, past Al’s abandoned shop, and down the motorway we ride, following the path Jax took us that one time we came here, almost three months ago. Lilly’s grip tightens, her fingers digging into my waist as we approach the Collective’s gated community.
The long line of trees appear on our left and I slow right down to get a good look. The trees seem different in the daylight, still tall and planted close together but now I can see they’re some sort of pine and no grass grows underneath them. Instead, a mass of fallen needles blankets the ground.
There’s a break in the line up ahead, so I speed up a little, just enough to blend with normal traffic as we pass the round guard house in the center of the closed gates. As much as I want to peer inside I don’t risky it because two men pace outside the gates and we can’t afford to draw attention. Lilly tilts to the left behind me and I have to lean to the right to counter balance. Good thing she moved slowly or we would’ve been on the ground. Normally I’d care but not today. If she’s getting a look insid
e, it’s all grand.
Manvyke’s so damn close. I should storm right in there and take him on. My jaw clenches. Lilly squeezes and I focus, continuing on past the small opening. I rev the engine. No point going slow here, there’s nothing to see. The tire spins as we screech down the line of trees with the wall barely visible behind them. Be good if I could find Jax’s sneaky entrance, but it all looks the same. The whole place is like a prison, the wall and the trees and every-fricking-thing designed to keep us out. She could be in there behind that tree fence, so close we could talk with a telcom. I should jump off the bike and tear the damn wall down to find her.
The road finally curves away from the trees, taking a different direction to the sharp ninety degree turn of the tree line. I bring my bike to a stop and sit at the corner, letting her idle as I look up. I tell Lilly, “Hold on.”
Then I twist the throttle on full, and the bike takes off, skidding to the side, I lean with it. Lilly squeals behind me, too loud.
“Shhh,” I say.
We shoot up the curb and onto the bumpy ground. The wheels slip and slide in the dirt and I wish we were on my old dirt bike. I slow her down but keep a steady pace. I’m not sure what we’re looking for and I don’t even know if we’ll find it. That doesn’t stop me shadowing the boundary anyway.
There’s nothing on our right, only a massive empty lot. Perhaps it’s a reserve but the open space certainly isn’t tended. It’s littered with rubbish, even a burnt-out car. After what feels like an eternity we reach the end of the row. Except it’s not really the end, the trees cut around to the left. I lean into the corner and the bike eases around, following the endless boundary.
We ride on, my heart growing heavier with each passing minute. If she’s in there then there’s no way we’ll know. Then finally I see it, a small break in the tree line. The stone fence, plastered together with some kind of cement, peeks through the gap. I skid the bike to a halt and Lilly jumps off before I’ve even had a chance to flick down the stand or cut the engine.
Her face is deathly pale, and she flings me a wicked glare. “What the heck was that?”
I shrug and yank my helmet off.
Lilly dives into the small backpack and pegs a telcom at my chest. I catch it and push the small bud into the opening of my ear, curling the moldable wire up and around. It’s barely in place before her assault starts.
“I know you’re worried but that’s no excuse to ride like a suicidal maniac.” Her voice pounds through my mind.
I glance at the bike, tuning out her rant. It should be safe left here. It’s not like the other areas along this wall. It feels like a back fence; there’s nothing around, no houses, no roads, no one to see us. I stride toward the small break in the row of trees and right up to the fence. A creepy shiver runs through me, and I peep over my shoulder but no one’s there. The fence is way too high to see over and a close inspection reveals there’s no difference, not a single thing that doesn’t blend with the rest of the wall. Definitely no secret entrance like the one Jax showed us.
I stride out, following the fence, between it and the trees.
Nothing, nothing, there’s not a damn thing here.
If I can’t get through the fence how will we get in? I glance around looking for something to bash at a loose stone, but find nothing. Rolling my shoulder forward then back I think of it briefly then shake my head. No way that’d work. My body’s no match for stone.
“Will.” Lilly’s voice comes to my mind through the telcom.
“What is it?” I say without turning back.
“Come here.”
I look behind me but I can’t see her. “Where’s here?”
“Up the tree.”
“And just which tree is that?”
“The one near the gap in the line.”
Long strides take me back to where we came in. I look up into the tree on the edge of the break. “Left or right?”
“The other one.”
I walk to the tree in question and search for a way to haul myself up. Just there; a block of wood nailed to the trunk. There’s another above it and more above that, each one about an arm’s length apart. Someone’s gone to a lot of effort, nailing footholds onto this tree.
I shove my foot onto the first one and reach up for another at shoulder height. Craning my head back, the tail of Lilly’s shirt’s visible over the side of a timber platform. Her brown jacket doesn’t quite cover it. It’s an easy climb up the laddered trunk to haul myself over the edge and onto the landing beside her.
The whole structure reminds me of a timber playhouse that I helped Dad build as a kid. We set it in the lowest fork of the great big tree in our backyard. He told everyone I made it and I was so proud. “Looks like a tree house.”
Lilly shakes her head. “More like a spy lair.”
I glance around and she’s right. The tree’s trunk runs through the center of the platform and on it, a metal box with a padlock thrust through its door. It rattles when I shake it but of course the thing’s locked. Glancing up into the tree’s higher branches, I see more platforms, all smaller than the one we’re standing on. If I can get up there I might just be able to see … I look in the direction of the fence and sweet, we’re higher than the stone wall.
I can see right into the gated community.
There’s a gap in the branches just big enough to peer through, like it was created for this specific purpose. Pity there’s not much to see, just massive houses with perfect lawns and hedges. Maybe if I get higher I’ll see further. Lilly’s a step ahead of me though, already scrambling to the highest platform.
I reach out to a branch just above my head and draw myself up onto it with ease. All that training in The Ring sure paid off. Tearing up the branches, I make it to another platform barely big enough to crouch on. Another perfect gap sits at just the right height, allowing me to peek into the gated community. The buildings all look like houses. There’s one directly across which resembles the white mansion where we found Manvyke last month. This is too lucky. Of all the places, we’ve got his house in view. Only it’s not alone: there are several other houses like it, so maybe it isn’t his after all.
“Can you see anything?” I ask Lilly.
“Just houses.”
Sweat tickles my face as it trickles down. I wipe a hand over my cheek and take a deep breath. So close. But I’m not writing it off just yet, so we settle down into our little platforms, waiting without the need to discuss it.
A few people come and go from the houses, most dressed in the dark uniform of Collective agents, which makes me wonder if all Collective people are agents. I wait. Wait for a hint to whether Mae’s inside, but none come. She must be here, where else would they take her? A red-headed chick strolls down the road, her clothes different than the others: light tan. I drag a hand through my hair. Surely if we wait long enough we’ll see something. But we watch until the sun starts to sink, turning the few clouds the same color as the girl’s hair. Still nothing happens.
An image of Al chained to the table in their other building—the one in the city—haunts me. His body was broken and battered from torture. My mind’s eye morphs his face into Mae’s and an icy shiver shoots through me. Sitting here is useless. We’ve got to get in there.
Now.
The top of the fence is only a few feet away. I move down to the lower larger platform. Just a small jump and I’ll be over that fence and inside their cozy community. I glance at the street again even though no one has come by in a long while. It’s a waste to be so close and not go any further.
I can do it.
I back up to the far edge of the platform. Squeeze my hands closed and pump them, then pump again before I run across and jump, arms out, flying at the wall.
Chapter Nine
Will
“Will!” Lilly’s voice screams through my mind.
I soar through the air, but I’m too low. Damn, under judged the distance and now I’m going to hit the fence halfway dow
n, not land on top like I’d planned. My whole body tenses, preparing to grapple it, my fingers ready to find a crutch to pull myself up. Hands connect first, tearing the skin like a frickin’ cheese grater as they slide down. Then I’m sinking as if I’ve hit quicksand which pushes the breath right out of me, making me feel like I need to spew. Finally, I stop.
“Idiot.” Lilly’s eternally cheerful voice sounds angry as it comes to my mind. “You aren’t a superhero. What’d you think, that you’d clear the fence and the barrier in a single bound?”
She’s right. The barrier. Now stuck by my toes and knees, I’ve sure as hell remembered the invisible jello-sinking force field which surrounds the fence. Putting all my weight behind me, I pull back but it’s no use. I’m stuck like it’s set rubber.
A string of curses punctuated with the F-bomb slip from me.
“How the heck am I going to get you out of there?” The snap of a breaking twig and a thud come from close to the ground. I glance down, trying to arch my neck in a way that it won’t go. Lilly must have climbed down to laugh at me hanging off the wall like a fool.
“I know. I’m an idiot. Can you reach me?”
She laughs.
I’d be at least ten feet above her head; of course she can’t reach me. “What about from the platform?”
I lean back, tugging against the barrier, and I can move. At least, my body can; my knees and feet are stuck. I can just see the platform if I twist, so maybe she can do it. Leaves rustle, a scuffle of feet on the trunk or maybe the platform—she must be climbing back up the tree. Lilly squeals.
The hairs on my nape spring up.
I try to spin around, but my neck kinks and I can’t see. Laughter cuts through the air; it’s soft, deep and stifled. Who the frick is there? “Lilly?”
“Yes, Will?” she answers, totally calm.
I growl. “What happened, who’s there?”
“We’re gonna be in trouble.” I can almost hear the huff in her mental voice.
