by Kyla Stone
“Yes,” Amelia said.
As she followed Harper back to the lab, she felt lighter than she had in days.
Maybe this whole thing would really work.
25
Micah
Micah’s pulse hammered in his throat. Even in the winter chill, sweat beaded his forehead. If one of the soldiers noticed…
The first guards rushed past, banging on doors and searching between and behind the buildings. Several of them wore tactical goggles with infrared sensors. Micah repressed a shudder, imagining the outcome if they had attempted to hide behind the bushes or beneath the recycling bin.
The guy beside him guffawed loudly and punched his shoulder. “Look at that move! Wicked awesome, am I right?”
Micah said nothing. He didn’t trust his voice not to crack under the tension thrumming through every cell of his body.
A nighthawk glided past, pausing briefly to scan them with a red, gridded laser. Micah stiffened, unable to breathe. The drone moved on, floating away with a faint whir of its rotors.
The girl pressed her body against Silas, kissing him with passionate abandon. At least Silas had the presence of mind not to shove her away in disgust. Or maybe he was enjoying it. Who knew with Silas?
“Hey, you seen two hostiles run through here?” asked one of the soldiers.
“Nah, man,” the guy next to Micah said in a bored, disinterested voice. He barely lifted his gaze from the holofilm.
“No loitering,” a second soldier demanded. “Get yourselves inside. Don’t forget about curfew.”
The girl stopped kissing Silas and half-turned, still ensuring her head blocked most of the soldiers’ view of Silas’s face. “Yes, sir,” she said with a demure smile.
“We’ll have HQ check the videofeeds.” The first soldier gestured to the rest of his squad. “Move out. They may have sought cover in the manufacturing sector.”
No one moved until the soldiers and their drones had disappeared from sight.
“Get off me,” Silas snapped at the girl.
The girl stepped back. “You should be thanking me.”
Silas wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and spat. He glared at her, breathing hard. “I have one word for you. Boundaries.”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear that,” the girl said, returning Silas’s scowl with a beaming smile. “Oh, you’re so grateful that my quick thinking saved your life?”
“Thank you,” Micah said with feeling.
“You’re so very welcome.” She turned her mega-watt smile on him. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than Micah, thick-waisted and curvy. A span of freckles sprayed across her snub nose and cherub cheeks. Her heart-shaped face was framed by a bushel of wild red hair. Her expression was open and friendly. It was hard to determine her age; she could have been fifteen or twenty-five. “I’m Fiona Walsh.”
Micah sagged against the wall, closing his eyes in relief. “Would they really have shot us?”
“They’re supposed to use non-lethal force first.” The guy next to him reached into his pocket and handed Micah his glasses. “But everyone’s a bit trigger-happy these days. My name’s Kadek. Kadek Tedjasukmana.”
He was Indonesian, and looked around Micah’s age. He was tall and gangly, his long black hair dusting his slightly stooped shoulders. His sharp chin gave him a distrustful, ferret-faced look. In addition to his brightly colored wool coat, he wore fingerless leather gloves and a fedora hat.
“Who was the boy in the red scarf?” Micah asked. “Was that Theo?”
“That was me.” Fiona flashed an impish grin. She pulled the red scarf out of her coat pocket and fluttered it at Silas. He swatted it away with a scowl. “Kadek and I are masters of disguise.”
“That was smart,” Micah said. “Hiding in plain sight.”
Fiona stuffed the scarf back in her pocket. “No one is looking for four recalcitrant teens standing around doing nothing.”
Silas stuffed his hands in his pockets and glowered sullenly at everyone. “So, where’s this Theo then?”
The door of the apartment directly in front of them swung open. “Right here.”
An Indian guy rolled out onto the sidewalk, his arms flexing as he worked his wheelchair. He was dressed in a wrinkled white T-shirt and jeans. His upper body was broad and well-muscled, tapering to a trim waist and slender legs. His thick black hair was disheveled, the beginnings of a scruffy beard along his jawline.
“I’m Theo.” His dark eyes shone with intelligence as he examined them, a wry grin tugging one corner of his mouth. “Not quite what you expected?”
“No, I mean, um…” Micah stammered.
“No worries. Let me guess. Cleo told you nothing about me.”
Micah had expected Cleo’s twin to be a male version of her—tough, ferocious, and scary as hell. This guy seemed…nice. “Not really.”
Theo winked at Micah. “Sounds about right.”
“She said you were a hacker,” Silas said.
“That I am. And a damn good one.” Theo ran his hand through his rumpled hair. “I take it you got away before they chipped you.”
“We did,” Silas said.
Micah turned to Fiona and Kadek. “Thanks to your friends.”
Fiona beamed. “I like them, Theo. Especially this one.” She reached out to pinch Silas’s cheek. Silas darted out of reach, an expression of abject mortification on his face.
“You should know there are cameras, microphones, and surveillance drones everywhere,” Theo said in a low voice. “President Sloane declared martial law the day they announced the Hydra virus was a bioweapon. It’s supposedly part of the Safe and Secure Act they passed in emergency session right after that ship blew up. She hasn’t lifted it, even in here.”
Fiona gave a flippant shake of her hair. “She claims law and order is even more critical while we re-establish civilization, or whatever.”
Micah scanned the area nervously. “Are we being watched now?”
Fiona pointed to a tiny, barely visible camera lens nestled in the eaves over the front porch. “Unfortunately, this particular camera lost an argument with a rock. Maintenance hasn’t made their rounds to repair it yet.”
“We have a place off the grid to stash you, but we need to wait until after curfew,” Theo said. “Until then, you’re guests in my house. This is the first and only time we can stay here. We’re very careful to move locations frequently when we meet.”
Micah and Silas followed the Patriots into Theo’s home. It was small and spare—four white walls, functional furniture, nothing extraneous or decorative. It wasn’t at all what Micah had expected.
“Only the elites live in true decadence,” Kadek said wryly.
“Sleep mode, please,” Theo instructed the house AI.
“Certainly, sir. Powering off now,” the AI said.
“I’ve hacked the home monitoring system to actually turn off,” Theo explained. “Unlike the original version, which records every word spoken inside its walls 24/7.” He pulled five cold sodas from a small, old-fashioned fridge and placed them on a stainless-steel table. “Take a seat.”
Micah sat down across from Theo. Kadek took a seat to his right, Silas to his left. Fiona slid into the seat on the other side of Silas with a mischievous smile. She winked at him. Silas’s scowl deepened.
Behind Micah, a bunch of synthetic grapes rested on the counter—impossibly huge and almost day-glo green. There was a bag of half-eaten chips and a bottle of salsa, the label advertising 5% real tomatoes.
“How do you eat here?” Silas asked.
Kadek shrugged his narrow shoulders. “We order on our Smartflexes or apartment AIs; the drones deliver it. Sectors five and above get the real deal, soil-grown fruits and veggies, real cheese and even real meat. We get the printed crap that leaves that stale, gritty taste in the back of your throat.”
Fiona tossed a bag of dehydrated vegetables on the table. “They add sugar to make them edible.”
Micah took a handful of shriveled carrots gratefully. After months of hunger and homelessness, he would never turn away food again.
“Let’s talk.” Theo popped the lid of his soda and took a long swallow. “Let me start with us. I’m Cleo’s twin brother, as you know. My mother, General Reaver, helped me infiltrate the government from the inside. We altered my identity before the mandatory Vitalichip ended all that. I’ve been working in tech security for BioGen for four years, since I was eighteen. By the time I finished acing their screening exams, they didn’t care that I never took a single college class.
“I worked my way up to higher security clearances, eventually earning some government contracts. None of that matters to you except that my skills earned me a spot here. For now, I keep my head down and do my job. But I’ve been waiting for my chance to play my part. We all have.”
“How many of you are there?” Micah asked.
Kadek sipped his soda. “Eleven.”
“Only eleven?” Micah asked, deflated. He’d hoped for an army.
“We can get the job done,” Fiona snapped, her beaming smile faltering. “We’ll do our part.”
“Most of our operatives are sleepers,” Kadek said. “They do nothing until we activate them. We have an undercover guard—Harper Atkins—in President Sloane’s security team. We made sure that she was assigned to Amelia’s detail. She’ll be passing us messages from Amelia while she’s interred in BioGen’s labs.”
Micah held his breath. “So she’s safe?”
“No harm will come to her,” Fiona said. “They know how valuable she is.”
Micah and Silas exchanged relieved glances. At least now they knew where she was. She was okay, and they could reach her if they needed to. And she had someone on the inside she could talk to. Right now, that was the best they could hope for.
“Harper’s father is a Lieutenant Commander in President Sloane’s Coalition forces,” Kadek said. “All military—air force, marines, army, National Guard—have been combined.”
“Kadek’s father is a scientist for BioGen,” Theo said. “And Fiona’s mother is a hydrologist, a water specialist who ensures the Sanctuary maintains its aquifers and other supplies. Anyway, that’s how they earned their spots in the Sanctuary.”
Kadek watched something on his Smartflex. He flicked it closed and glanced at Fiona. “Fiona works in manufacturing and supplies. She’s our resident thief. She siphons techy parts and pieces, and I’m the one who makes something wicked out of them.”
Fiona ducked her head, her cheeks blooming red as she flashed a proud grin. She had a sweet, pixie-ish quality about her. Her gaze strayed to Silas for a moment before darting away. “Happy to be of service.”
“I work in engineering,” Kadek said. “I aid Theo with hacking, tech support, and whatever else he needs. But mostly, I’m the one that builds stuff.”
Theo clasped his hands on the table. “Your turn. My sister told me you have information of critical importance pertaining to the origins of the Hydra virus.” He glanced around the table. “We are extremely interested in what you have to say.”
Micah took a swig of soda, relishing the burn as he swallowed the fizz. He told them who was really behind the Hydra virus. He told them everything, from the events on the Grand Voyager to the truth Amelia had revealed about her own father, Declan Black, and their suspicions about the Coalition.
The three Patriots listened, frowning silently.
When Micah finally finished, Theo drummed his fingers on the table. “Cleo is all blood and destruction. I love her, but we fundamentally disagree on many things.”
“I can’t imagine,” Silas muttered. He slouched further in his seat.
“She thinks we need to take the Sanctuary by force, killing everyone inside. But I think there’s room for all of us. I think there’s a better way.”
“What do you mean?” Micah asked.
“We can tell everyone inside the Sanctuary the truth.” Theo’s eyes brightened, his face filled with hope. “We can tell them their own government purposely unleashed the bioweapon, the very people they’re following and trusting right now. If we can get the Sanctuary to revolt and turn on Black and Sloane and the rest of the Coalition, then this war of Cleo’s never needs to happen.”
“Most of these people aren’t bad,” Fiona said as she wound a red curl around her finger. “They just want to be safe. That’s why they’re keeping everyone else out.”
“Sounds like rainbows and unicorn dreams to me,” Silas said. “I know these people. I am these people. They won’t care about anybody out there as long as they’re safe in here, no matter who it is that keeps them safe—or what they’ve done.”
“That is a horrible vision of humanity,” Micah said.
Silas’s eyes went flat. “That’s the world. Always has been, always will be. The apocalypse isn’t going to change that.”
“If it avoids bloodshed, it’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Theo asked. “I love my sister and my mother, but their first response to everything is to fight, to kill. I don’t want to resort to that unless we absolutely have to.”
Micah stared at Theo. He really was nothing like Cleo.
Theo took another swig of soda and slammed it down on the table. “We’re all here because we believe in the ugly truth over pretty lies. I for one believe there are others who feel the same way.”
“So how are you going to do this thing, then?” Silas asked dubiously. “How exactly are you going to show everyone the ugly truth?”
Theo grinned, seemingly oblivious to Silas’s tone. “With a little work, I can access the Sanctuary network. That’s every single screen, holo-ad, wallscreen, and Smartflex.”
“But it won’t mean anything coming from us,” Kadek said. “There has to be proof.”
“We can get it.” Theo’s voice rose in excitement. He took a small object out of his pocket—a thumb drive. He held it aloft on his opened palm. “That’s where your sister comes in, Silas. She can get her father to confess the truth. If Amelia Black films it, I’ll show it to every single person inside the Sanctuary.”
26
Amelia
“Would you like some water?” Harper asked Amelia from the doorway. “You look rather faint.”
Amelia nodded weakly. She did feel exhausted, as weary as after a seizure had knocked her flat, rattling her internal organs and scrambling her brain.
“Don’t be long,” the other guard, Logan, said with a slight frown.
“Of course,” Harper said briskly. She helped Amelia to her feet.
Amelia pulled her hospital gown tighter around her bare thighs. She’d undergone another round of biopsies, scans, and blood draws all morning and afternoon. It was the sixth day of testing. She hadn’t seen her father today, but technicians and med-bots had been in and out of her room throughout the day.
She was tired. So tired.
She nodded politely as they passed two virologists in lab coats, their heads bent over a holopad. They glanced up, watching her until she shuffled into the bathroom. A few moments later, the faucet water was flowing into the sink. Harper pulled something from the pocket of her uniform.
But Amelia was only interested in one thing. She met Harper’s gaze in the mirror. “Where are Silas and Micah?” she whispered.
Last night, she had dined with President Sloane, a slew of advisers, and the five remaining Coalition members, including her father.
President Sloane had pulled her aside after the meal. “I just wanted to let you know that your brother and your friend managed to get themselves lost. They slipped away from their protective escort before they could undergo their chipping procedure. Unfortunate, since we could have used it to find them.”
“Why did they need a protective escort?” Amelia had asked.
President Sloane brushed a stray hair back into place. “It was precautionary only. They’re special VIPs, just like you. Declan is overcome with worry. I’m sure you can imagine.” She patted Amelia�
��s shoulder. “But don’t fret. You focus on the cure; we’ll focus on finding your brother.”
Amelia forced her mouth into the shape of a smile even as doubts filled her mind. Just what kind of escort was it? Were Silas and Micah safe? Did President Sloane know they’d fled on purpose? Did she guess the ulterior motives at play? Or was she busy hiding her own?
“I’m incredibly grateful,” she said as sincerely as she could. “Thank you so much.”
“Of course, dear. Don’t you worry about a thing. “You’re Declan’s daughter. That makes you practically family.” President Sloane gave her a kind smile. She reached out and touched a strand of Amelia’s newly lengthened hair. “I promised you my stylist would get everything back to normal, didn’t I?”
Only nothing was normal anymore. It never would be again. Amelia touched the new extensions that fell in a sleek, waist-length white-blonde curtain. Though she had worn it this long for most of her life, her hair felt strange now, alien. She’d gotten used to the lightness of short hair, the feeling of fresh air on her neck, the freedom of not having to worry about its maintenance and upkeep.
Now it felt like a weight around her shoulders, a heaviness tugging at her skull. A reminder of her father’s control over her life. She hadn’t wanted it. But her father had gotten his way. She’d gritted her teeth and endured it because in the end, she had no choice. Her hair preferences meant little compared to the importance of her mission. When among wolves...
Now Amelia kept her gaze trained on Harper. She barely felt the hot water gushing over her hands. “Are Micah and Silas safe?”
“Keep your head down,” Harper murmured, dropping her own gaze. “So the camera above us doesn’t read our lips. And yes, they’re safe. They’re with our people.”
Relief flooded through her. “Thank goodness. Where are they? What’s happening?”
“I can only tell you what you need to know.” Harper pressed herself closer to Amelia and thrust an object at her beneath the counter. “This is a thumb-drive with an embedded camera and microphone. It’s a recording device. It can hover if you need it to, or you can hide it in a plant or something.”
