“Sure.” Jeremiah slowed the bus to a stop and put it in park. As he did, his eyes touched on the dashboard and the gas light caught his attention. The tank said it was only half full. How far would that get them? He kept quiet, not wanting to worry anyone just yet.
While Noble stepped outside, Jeremiah climbed out of the driver’s seat and into the kitchen area, scrounging around for food. Olive opened one of the refrigerators and showed Jeremiah where a dozen sandwiches were stored. He scarfed one down, picking up a second.
As he ate, he quietly explored the nooks and crannies of the bus, searching for a gas can, hoping he might find the solution without having to worry anyone. But no luck.
Noble’s head popped up at the ladder and he climbed back inside the bus. “We’re farther east than I’d imagined,” he said grimly. “We need to take a hard right at the next crossroads and head for mountain country fast or we risk running into more slaver convoys.”
Jeremiah climbed back into the driver’s seat, putting the bus into drive. Evie offered her chair to Noble, so he could guide them. They set off, turning right at the first intersection they ran into, on the new course Noble set for them.
“Are the Lakelanders going to be okay?” Olive asked from the back, where she sat on one of the kitchen countertops by Sol and Evie, leaning back against the bus wall. “I mean, we took their keys, and all their food and water.” Jeremiah didn’t have much empathy for the slavers, but Olive was right, they’d left them stranded, without anything to eat or drink. If they died, it would be on them.
Noble turned in the passenger seat to face them. “It won’t take them long to hot-wire the vehicles. They’ll go hungry for a bit until they reach a nearby town. But then they can rent or purchase another kitchen.” He paused for a second, clearing his throat, “The real question is will they decide to come after us.”
“Would they do that?” Jeremiah asked, glancing over at the man, concerned.
“They might,” Noble admitted. Everyone was quiet as that possibility sunk in. “But,” Noble added after a moment, “now that we’ve changed course, it’s less likely. I’d say if they don’t find us within the next hour, we should be in the clear.”
Jeremiah glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was almost three in the morning. It felt good to have a deadline. His eyes were burning from exhaustion. He and Evie had been up all night. But he wouldn’t be able to sleep for the next hour now anyway, so he might as well keep driving.
Sol dug around in the back and Jeremiah heard the sound of metal on metal. “We have some weapons, at least,” Sol told them. Glancing over his shoulder briefly, Jeremiah saw Sol had found the kitchen knives.
“You should sit and rest,” Olive murmured to him, fretting. Sol did, but took a knife with him as he sat down next to her. He seemed to be recovering quickly, but Olive would no doubt worry nonetheless.
Noble left the front seat briefly to flip the light switch off, throwing the insides of the bus back into darkness. “That should help,” he told them. The front headlights were still a beacon in the darkness, but they’d be less noticeable now that the entire bus wasn’t lit up.
Jeremiah’s eyes adjusted to the moonlight. The others rested quietly on the counter tops, leaning against the wall, closing their eyes and trying to sleep.
Still, the next hour was tense. They drove through a small town not long after that, with just a few dozen log cabins, all dark as their owners slept. Jeremiah silently searched for a gas station along the single road through town, but there wasn’t one. They didn’t stop. When the clock finally passed three a.m., Jeremiah breathed an audible sigh of relief. The others dozed in the back, unaware. Jeremiah let them sleep and drove on.
Over the next hour, they passed through two more small towns, neither of which had a gas station. The sun began to rise as they passed a sign announcing the next town, that said ‘population size 104.’ That didn’t sound promising either. Jeremiah rubbed his eyes, which burned from exhaustion.
“I can take a turn driving, if you’d like a break?” Noble offered for the third time when Jeremiah yawned. As much as Jeremiah wanted to accept the offer, he couldn’t rely on the man yet. After everything they’d been through, it would take a lot to trust a stranger again. Thankfully, Evie spoke up quietly from the back and said, “I can take over. I can’t sleep anymore anyway.”
Jeremiah accepted Evie’s offer, pulling over just outside of town to switch seats, giving her a small nod of thanks as they did. She tilted her head just slightly in response, before settling into the driver’s seat. She would keep an eye on Noble.
Knowing Evie was alert and guarded, Jeremiah thought he might actually be able to get some sleep. He hunkered down on the floor in a corner where he could lean against the wall, and immediately dozed off.
Some time later, the rocking motion of the bus slowed, causing him to blink sleepily, half waking up. The sun was bright overhead now. “Oh crap,” he heard Olive say, which woke him fully. He stood, stretching as he walked up to the front. Olive stood behind the driver’s seat, her attention on the dashboard, where Jeremiah had stared all night. He stepped up front to look with everyone else, even though he knew what he’d find: the little gas can symbol, lit up bright red with the arrow teetering dangerously now over the word “Empty.”
27
Evalene
NEXT TOWN WE PASS we’ll need to stop and pull a hiffy,” Noble told them. When he received blank looks from everyone, he said, “What?”
“A hiffy?” Olive’s wrinkled brow in the rearview mirror spoke volumes. Noble stood to dig through the refrigerator, pulling out yet another half-sandwich, even though he’d eaten enough for two meals already. When Evalene glanced up from driving, Jeremiah threw her a skeptical glance, and she held back a laugh.
“Yep,” Noble said, talking around a mouthful, coming back to stand near the driver’s seat with everyone else as they planned. “It’s just a hissy fit in a jiffy. Somebody makes a scene to distract the store while we pump and drive.” Evalene’s eyes widened at the idea.
When no one spoke, Noble chuckled. “No one’s done a hiffy before? That’s alright. I can take this one. But once I’ve got you on the right path and paid my debt to you for saving my life, I’m afraid we’ll need to part ways.” His mouth drew into a thin line as he swallowed and lowered the remains of his sandwich. “I need to find my wife.” He chucked his sandwich in the trash as if too upset to finish it, pacing away from them down the length of the bus, then back, agitated.
Evalene blinked at the sudden shift in his mood. As Noble continued to pace the length of the bus, restless, her stomach growled. “I can drive for a bit,” Sol offered. The sun was directly overhead as she agreed to switch. She was starving.
As Sol pulled back out onto the road, Evalene passed out sandwiches for lunch. Belatedly, she wondered if Sol was okay to drive, but Olive plopped into the passenger seat, already prepared to keep a close eye on him.
As Evalene skirted around Noble to stand by Jeremiah, taking a bite of her sandwich, she risked asking, “Is your wife lost?”
“Another slaver convoy took her, about two weeks back,” Noble said. He stopped pacing. “Right before that big news release from Eden.”
“That’s where we’re from!” Olive told him from the front seat. Evalene remembered the broadcast she’d used for her resignation. It felt like months ago, not weeks.
“I recognized your accent,” Noble replied. It was weird to hear they had an accent when it was his inflection that felt foreign. “I remember the announcement because I left to find her the very next day. I was on her trail when that last caravan snuck up on me and got lucky.”
He was silent so long Evalene thought he was done. But he cleared his throat and spoke again, with a thickness to his voice, “My wife and I met five years ago when she joined our group.” He coughed to clear the emotion, eyes fixed on the road. Jeremiah moved to pull out a few water bottles from the refrigerator, handing them to e
veryone, giving Noble a moment to pull himself together. Olive offered to help Sol open his as he drove.
“We wanted to end the human experiments,” Noble told them, staring at the floor, holding his unopened water bottle. “We had a lot of ideas back then. Got some good people killed.”
“Human experiments?” Sol asked, glancing back at Noble in the rearview mirror as he drove. “We were told that was in the past.”
“Only if the past means happening right now,” Noble said, fists clenching at his sides as he glared at the road ahead. “Why do you think the slavers have such a thriving business?” He pointed to the scar they’d all noticed but hadn’t dared ask about, where it crossed his left eye and cheek. “This was from a close call near tech territory just last year. We were trying to find a way into Archland where the newest BioGrades happen. The worst experiments. We made it inside, but then we were forced to watch as half our group got captured. Two of them were killed on the spot.”
Olive choked on the water she’d just drank. Sol kept one hand on the wheel, but reached out with the other to hold her water bottle for her while she coughed, eyes watering. “I’m sorry,” she said between coughs. “I just can’t believe people are really doing this.”
Noble just nodded, moving to pace again. “Every time we took down a slaving ring, two more popped up. We decided to go to the source of the problem. They have thousands of techs working on BioGrades experiments in Archland. And just as many, if not more, being experimented on. We decided to infiltrate tech territory and find a weakness. Something that would bring the whole thing down.”
He stopped in the middle of the bus once more. “A lot of good men died for the information we gained on that mission. But we found something… just a hint of something really… that might be significant.” He talked with his hands, gesturing excitedly. “We could tell the techs were guarding it, but we didn’t get enough intel to know exactly what it is. All we know for sure is that it shuts down the BioGrades in some way.” Evalene glanced at the others. She’d always assumed the Number-free lands were thriving and peaceful. But everything she’d just heard easily rivaled the Number One’s own schemes.
Shaking his head a little at a memory, Noble half turned away from them and said in a quiet voice, “We were coming back from our latest reconnaissance mission when Pearl was taken.”
Evalene’s heart stopped. “Did you say Pearl?” she asked. Her voice cracked.
“That’s my wife’s name,” Noble turned back to face her. “Why?”
Evalene suddenly needed to sit. She sank to the floor. The sound of her heartbeat thundered in her ears, blocking out Jeremiah’s voice as he bent down, bringing his face close to hers. His mouth moved, concern knitting his brows together, but she didn’t hear what he was saying.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Noble was yelling as the world came back into focus. Sol swerved to the side of the road, throwing the bus into park to turn and look down on Evalene where she sat on the floor. She gradually became aware of hands on her back and looked up to see Jeremiah and Olive kneeling next to her on both sides, while Noble peered down at her, not sure what was happening.
Glancing at Sol, and then Jeremiah, Olive whispered to Evalene, “Could it be her?”
28
Pearl
THE VEHICLE STOPPED AFTER only an hour or so of driving in the morning. It was too early for lunch. But Pearl barely noticed.
She lay on the floor in her own filth, too weak to care anymore, too exhausted to get up and try to look out the window. That was a move that two weeks ago Pearl would have made. This Pearl was older. Wiser. Starving.
They’d given her water once a day, but no food except another stale piece of bread every other day. She’d been labeled a violent prisoner, which was fitting. If there had been anyone else to talk to over the last two weeks, she would’ve admitted to them that she regretted her choices. Especially that last one.
Better to enter Archland strong and prepared, then weak and vulnerable like she was now. But hindsight never helped anyone change the past.
The vehicle shuddered into motion again after a few minutes, and Pearl vaguely noticed a shadow pass over the window, blocking the sun for a moment. She slept. The next time she woke was from the sound of keys jangling.
When she blinked, she found the door to her cell opening. The same sneering man hauled her to her feet, this time without any protest or fight on her part.
“Welcome to Archland,” he said sarcastically, and then pulled back with a snort of disgust. “Oh… you reek!”
If Pearl had had any energy, she would’ve shrugged in agreement. That was his fault. Instead, she just focused on not keeling over or losing consciousness as he hauled her outside. She hadn’t seen the sun in weeks and the light hit her face with a painful slap. Squinting, she urged herself to get a grip. She needed to pay attention to her surroundings for escape later.
But between blinks for relief, all she glimpsed was the side of an enormous gray concrete building before they hustled her through a small loading dock door.
Inside the lighting dimmed to a more manageable level. Pearl allowed herself to be led, trying to get a good look at her surroundings: an enormous warehouse with high ceilings, cement floors and walls, and zero windows.
This would be incredible intel when she got back. Because this was without a doubt the infamous BioLabs building. Where the worst evils happened.
She swallowed hard. The sneering man shoved a small sandwich into her hands when he saw her shaking. “Oh yeah, eat this. They’re barely gonna pay us anything for you now that you’re a sack of bones.” He said this as if it was her fault. Pearl managed to scowl at him for a half-second before she turned her attention to the sandwich, stuffing half of it into her mouth. She was ravenous.
“Slow down, stupid, or you’ll just throw it up in five minutes.” His gravelly voice and opinionated tone raked along her nerves. Pearl wished she could slug him. But as much as it irked her to admit it, he was right. She could already feel her stomach beginning to revolt. She chewed slower, forcing herself to take her time, nibbling at the remaining half of the sandwich.
Still, it was gone too soon. She returned her eyes to the cold, gray room shaped like a gigantic, empty rectangle. The only other objects in the room besides the people were a dozen dollys for moving heavy objects lined up against the wall. Pearl wondered briefly what these carts were for, before focusing her attention on the small group of people within.
The other slavers stood with a short man who was muttering nervously to one of the slaver women. Was he one of the slavers? He didn’t quite look like it. The woman smiled at him, patting his arm in comfort. He nodded acceptance, still ill at ease, but trying to hide it.
A person who Pearl had previously only seen as a white lab coat with legs came closer, and now that her eyes had adjusted, she noticed his face. It was too sharp, all angles, as if he’d tried one too many times to BioGrade himself to perfection, and failed. More white lab coats entered behind him, both men and women, all oddly transfigured to the point that they looked almost inhuman.
“How much for the first one?” the lab coat with the sharp face asked in a bored tone. When the slavers named a price, he walked up to the short, anxious man to get a closer look. The nervous man sidled closer to the slaver woman.
“That’s too much for him,” the lab coat shook his head, looking the man up and down. “I’ll give you half that.”
“Done,” the slaver woman replied, causing the nervous man to whip his head around, staring at her, mouth agape.
“Done?” he squealed, backing up. He clearly hadn’t known who he was traveling with or what he’d signed up for when he entered this building. The slavers grabbed him on both sides to hold him in place, and he began to struggle in earnest. “What’s happening? I thought we were—”
He cut off with a choking sound and lurched forward. Pearl leaned around her own slaver bodyguard to get a better look. They’d zapped
him with a particularly nasty-looking weapon. It was like some of the Tasers she’d seen, but nearly five-times larger and apparently that much stronger too, because a burning smell rose up from the red, swollen lump on the nervous man’s neck. He lay crumpled on the floor, not moving.
The first trickle of fear formed in the back of Pearl’s mind. She would need to choose her moment wisely. These people wouldn’t give second chances. She played along when the lab coats moved to her and began bargaining anew. Even when they made her open her mouth to check her teeth, she obeyed—humiliated, seething on the inside—but outwardly docile.
Bargains were struck, money exchanged hands, and the slavers left through the same door they’d come in.
As it swung shut, Pearl felt uneasily as if she was seeing her last glimpse of sunlight…
She shook the thought off.
They lifted the still unconscious man, and the lab coat with the Taser herded Pearl toward one of the dollys, barking “Up!” as he shoved her onto it. The little platform at the base was just large enough for her to stand on.
She complied when they tugged her around to face outwards, pressing her spine against the tall back on command. With one press of the button from the lab coat, the dolly sprung manacles for her hands and feet and a collar wrapped around her throat, effectively pinning her to the cart.
Pearl struggled to draw a deep breath and prevent hyperventilating. How was she going to escape from this?
The worry that she’d waited too long and missed her moment crossed her mind, and not for the first time.
When the lab coats turned away, she subtly tested her restraints. She was able to turn her head 45 degrees in both directions, but no more.
One of the women in the white coats caught her trying to squeeze her wrists through the manacles without success. She casually pointed her Taser in Pearl’s direction in silent warning. Pearl ceased immediately.
Picturing the painful burn on the unconscious man had her using her limited range of motion to try to find him. He slouched against the back of his cart, where they stood strapping him into the tight restraints with a bit of extra effort since he was still out cold, wheeling the poor man up next to Pearl in the line. He sagged against the restraints. They tipped him back and parked him at a reclining angle to keep the manacle around his neck from strangling him.
Pearl's Number: The Number Series Page 19
