Chase

by Kate Breuer

  “The guards there never care much,” Mira agrees.

  Dale bows his head. “Yes, I don’t see a problem so far.” From his tone, I can tell he’s doubtful any of this has a chance of success.

  “I’ll pretend to make a last-minute delivery to get into the hospital. Then let the rest of you in. I’ll get us some uniforms from work so we can blend in.

  “We decided it makes the most sense for me to be an inspector. That way, no one will ask me to do anything or answer any medical questions. Tien will try to get me a badge for my disguise to keep anyone from doubting my credentials.”

  Dale raises an eyebrow at Tien and me. “Sounds like a big favor to ask.”

  Tien waves him off. “I’m sure my guy can figure it out. He owes me. I’ve been in charge of his case for years. He knows I can ruin him at any point. It’ll be fine.”

  Dale’s not convinced but doesn’t push it.

  “Dale, Tien, you’ll dress as doctors. You’ll have to try and stay away from people. Mira, you’ll be a nurse.”

  Mira grunts. “So unfair I can’t be a doctor because I’m a woman.”

  “I know, honey, but you’re just pretending. You’re a tattoo artist, much cooler than a doctor in my books,” I appease her, and she smiles.

  “How do you plan on getting the uniforms from work?” Dale asks, poking at every little crack in the plan he can find.

  “I’ll figure that out somehow. I’m sure I can. I have to return them by Thursday, so no one notices they are gone before they are supposed to ship out.”

  The one good thing about a city this controlled is how regular schedules are. New orders come in on Fridays, get delivered on Thursdays. Rinse, repeat.

  I have to be careful and make sure I block what I’m doing from the cameras, but I already know how I’ll do that.

  “I think we should do it Tuesday. It gives me time to steal the uniforms on Monday and two days to return them after.”

  Dale sits down at the table with us. “I guess that could work. Unless . . . What if we damage them or get them dirty?”

  I shrug. “I can fix any damage on Wednesday.”

  Dale still looks skeptical, and as I grow more motivated, he continues exposing problems and flaws in our plan.

  “So we walk in, find Willow’s blood, and swap it with a random sample?” he asks.

  I shrug, ready to agree, when Tien interrupts, “No. No, we can’t do that.”

  We look at him questioningly.

  “It’s not that easy. The genetic markers might ruin everything if we pick the wrong person.” When we continue to look confused, he adds, “It’s simple. We need to switch samples with a white woman.”

  Realizing mere ignorance could have ruined our plan makes me thankful Tien knows this.

  “My mother’s friend at the hospital—Evelyn Weiland—hasn’t been able to leave the hospital in quite a while. She’s waiting for a transplant. I’m sure her blood is on file,” Mira says.

  We continue planning for hours. By the time Mira and Tien are ready to leave, we know what we need to do. Or at least we hope we do. Otherwise, we’ll be headed into serious trouble.

  9

  Nate

  “I’ll be right there,” I grunt and hang up the phone. With a big yawn, I roll out of bed.

  Every inch of my body hurts from my fight with Derec. I feel heavy with exhaustion. Why was I stupid enough to pick a fight I knew I couldn’t win?

  I look down and am not surprised to find deep bruises on my stomach and arms. I walk over to the mirror and inspect my stinging back. The scratches from slipping over the floor look the worst. They cut through the moth tattooed over my shoulder blades.

  Fuck, I hope it doesn’t scar.

  I get dressed, then head out to report for duty. It’s too early for work. It’s still dark out. I shiver and pull up my jacket’s zipper a little higher to ward off the cold.

  Since Zeke and I are usually assigned together, I’m not surprised when he joins me at the next intersection. His jacket is also zipped as high as possible, and his arms are crossed in front of his body.

  Zeke greets me with a grumpy, “Morning.” His breath fogs the chilly air.

  Both of us are too tired for words. Four a.m. is no time for conversations.

  By the time we get to the Imperium, my fingers are numb. My nose is running. I rub my hands together to warm them up.

  Inside, I get a good look at Zeke. He looks as bad as I do. He has deep bags under his eyes. The blueish light makes him look pale. Lifeless.

  “It’s fucking cold out,” I say with a shiver in my voice.

  “Freezing my balls off,” Zeke agrees. He looks grumpy. “Way too cold. Even for winter.”

  We stand in silence until the elevator arrives. The ding echoes in the empty foyer.

  We are stationed on the fifth floor, outside the science labs today. Last-minute meeting. No idea what it is about. Those science jerks always keep their work to themselves.

  I wonder if my new match will be attending the meeting. Would she know more?

  I consider seeking her out for a moment. She might get her hopes up for a perfect relationship. So hell, no.

  Zeke and I take our posts outside the assigned door and wait. Scientist after scientist walks into the lab room. Their giant cups fill the hallway with the smell of coffee. Four a.m. is no time for a meeting either.

  “Look at those guys. They look more unhappy to be here than I am.” Zeke’s laugh fills the hallway. I join in, and it pushes away some of my tiredness. “Well, at least a meeting at this time shouldn’t take too long. Then back to bed,” Zeke adds with a yawn.

  I’m sure I’ll never make it back to bed. By the time this is over, I’ll be too awake. Maybe a nap after lunch. I don’t want to ruin Zeke’s daydreams—if you can call them daydreams at this hour.

  As the last scientist shuffles into the room, my father comes down the corridor. He’s surprised to see me.

  I’d like to know what he’s doing here. Why the fuck is he at a science meeting? This has to be about whatever Mr. Goodman got him out of the assembly for the other day.

  My father eyes me suspiciously, walks into the lab, and closes the door behind him. Even rattles the door a little to make sure it’s closed all the way. He must really not want me to overhear.

  I can hear voices inside, but the sound is too muffled to understand anything. Clear enough to hear their excitement, though. Something big is happening.

  Zeke’s watch beeps on the hour—five a.m.—and we are still sitting out here. I’ve given up trying to figure out what’s going on.

  Suddenly, the door opens. A shrill female voice carries into the hallway, “—most promising results. We won’t know until next Friday, but I am confident . . .”

  I lose track of the conversation when a balding scientist, with more wrinkles than skin, shuffles out. The man rushes down the hallway and vanishes into another room.

  He didn’t close the door.

  “If this is really true, and Mr. Goodman will be the only one able to confirm, then the experiment would have been a success. I really wish we wouldn’t have to—”

  My father interrupts the woman. “Shut up! Someone close the damn door.”

  We hear the woman apologize a few times, then the door is shut. Everything is muffled again.

  “What the fuck was that about?” Zeke looks at me with raised eyebrows.

  “No clue,” I answer. “I just know my father doesn’t want us to know shit. What experiment do you think they were talking about?”

  The scientist returns with a package in his hands. He shuffles back down the hall as fast as his old bones can carry him. He rifles through a stack of papers on top of the box. He bumps headfirst into the now-closed door and falls backward onto his ass.

  His cheeks are red as he scrambles to his feet and brushes off his coat. He glances at us with wide eyes, picks up his package and papers, and vanishes inside.

  As soon as the door fa
lls into the lock, Zeke and I burst out laughing.

  “Did you . . . see . . . his face?” Zeke can barely get the words out. We both bend over with laughter.

  Zeke’s watch beeps for the second time. It’s six now. And we are wide awake. I long for some breakfast.

  “I wish I knew what’s going on,” I complain. “It’s driving me nuts.”

  We play hangman on Zeke’s tablet to pass the time. It doesn’t help. Time won’t budge.

  Scientists keep running in and out of the room. They vanish into other labs along the hall, then return with binders, stacks of papers, or tablets.

  Whatever is happening is important. I would give anything to know more.

  The fact that Mr. Goodman isn’t here is odd. Does this have any connection to him interrupting the assembly? I don’t know. This must be new. Last-minute.

  We hear snatches of conversation whenever the door opens. None of it makes any sense. One time I think I hear my name.

  I ask Zeke, but he isn’t sure. “Could’ve been ‘wait.’” He shrugs.

  Another scientist runs out of the room—a young blonde. She sees me and stops as if she ran into an invisible wall. She flushes deep red. Then she is gone. I watch her run down the corridor.

  What the fuck? Now I’m sure I must have heard my name earlier. Why else would she stare at me like that?

  Zeke tries to get my mind off it and continues our game. “F,” he guesses.

  I add a head to my drawing with a mischievous laugh.

  “T?” Zeke gets a bit closer to finishing the word.

  I add a letter to the last line: _ o m _ a m _ u _ i _ t

  “You made the fucking word up, mate. Admit it.”

  I laugh. “Nope. Definitely a real world. Come on, man.”

  “Okay, fine. S?”

  I add an s to the first and second to last line: s o m _ a m _ u _ i s t

  Zeke is getting close. I don’t think he has a clue, though.

  The game gets interrupted again with the young blonde’s return.

  “Hey, what the fuck was that about?” I demand, and she stops in front of us. “Why did you look at me like that?”

  The woman’s face is bright red. She looks away, gnawing her lip. I keep looking at her. Finally, she finds my gaze. “I—I’m Susan,” she stammers. “I believe you’ve met my parents?”

  It falls into place.

  “We’re engaged,” she finishes, somewhat lamely.

  This must be the weirdest encounter of my life.

  I eye the young woman from head to toe. I have to admit she’s really pretty. Curly blonde hair. Vivid blue eyes. A little pale from spending too much time in the labs. But it makes her red lipstick stand out more. The belt of her lab coat cinches around a skinny waist. I force myself to look directly at her.

  “Oh, yeah . . . I guess we are. Hi.” I’m not sure what else to say. Meeting your fiancée like this is not really something you can prepare for.

  She extends a hand. I shake it. She nods curtly and vanishes into the labs without another word.

  “Okay, that was weird,” Zeke admits. “But she’s a looker. Good catch, mate.”

  I groan. “You know I don’t give a fuck what she looks like. I’m not my father’s fucking pawn—” Zeke shushes me. I continue in a lower voice. “I’m not marrying her. Doesn’t matter how pretty she is.”

  “I know, mate. I was trying to cheer you up.” He puts a consoling hand on my shoulder.

  “I know.” I pick up the tablet. “Let’s finish the game. I hope they get this damn meeting over with soon. I need to get out of here.”

  It takes Zeke a while to figure out the word. When he finally guesses the last letter, his hanging man is only missing one leg.

  “What the fuck is ‘somnambulist’?” Zeke asks.

  “Fancy word for a sleepwalker. Picked it up somewhere,” I say in a resigned voice. I really had high hopes he wouldn’t get this one.

  Zeke grabs the tablet and checks I didn’t make the word up. He shrugs. “Okay, my turn.”

  Before we can start, the door opens. All the scientists emerge, talking in small groups or checking their tablets. I try to pick up what they are talking about—no chance. Too much is being said at once.

  Some throw us curious glances. Most ignore us. When Susan hurries past, she smiles at me nervously. My father doesn’t pay us any attention. He makes an effort to turn toward the men he walks out with.

  He’s not even going to look at me?

  I wonder how long I’ll be able to contain my anger. I’ll explode soon. I feel like my body is too small for the emotions I keep bottling up. They threaten to overflow in an effervescence of hate.

  I smile. Effervescence. Damn hangman. I always sound like I swallowed a thesaurus after playing. I shake my head absently.

  “Still looking for a nap?” I ask Zeke.

  He shakes his head, and I suggest we go over to my place for some breakfast.

  “I wonder what all that was about,” Zeke says, deep in thought as we sit on my couch.

  “They were really excited about something. But I’m not sure anything that makes those fuckers happy is good.”

  We speculate in circles. We can’t get anywhere. We need more information.

  An idea hits me. “Think I should talk to Susan, see if I can find out anything?”

  “Might be worth a shot.”

  “I don’t want her to think I actually give a shit about her, though.”

  Zeke waves a hand. “You’ll have plenty of time to piss her off later. I think you should try.”

  I nod.

  “You could pretend to want to talk about the wedding.”

  I don’t like the idea. I want to stay as far away from that subject as possible. It’s bad enough I have to talk to her.

  “If I bring up the wedding, she’ll think I want it,” I argue.

  Zeke leans forward and grabs a tray from under the coffee table. “I know you don’t like the idea of marrying her, but I’m not sure you have much of a choice.” He places some buds into the grinder. “You might be the mayor’s son, and he might have pulled quite a few strings to keep you single this long, but I don’t know . . .” He folds a paper neatly. “I’m not sure how much longer he can protect you.” He stuffs some weed into the paper, licks it, and rolls the joint. “Plus, it looks like you marrying the woman benefits him.”

  I light him up and say, “I don’t think he wants to help me anymore.” I take the joint from Zeke.

  “You’re twenty-eight, mate. You had a good long run at being single.”

  I take a deep hit. I hold it for a moment before exhaling smoke all over my living room. I watch the clouds rise toward the ceiling.

  “I don’t want to be married.”

  I pass the joint to Zeke. “I know, mate. But I don’t think you have a choice anymore. I guess you’re as fucked as the rest of us now.”

  Soon after, the joint’s remains smolder on the ashtray between us. A light buzzing fills my head, and I feel my body relax. My thoughts are circling around the marriage, but the feelings are dulled. Able to distance myself from the anger and resentment, logic sets in.

  “Okay. I am getting married. Fuck it. Fine. What the hell do I do now?”

  Zeke laughs. “Same as me. You accept there is nothing you can do. This society decides for you.”

  “This is seriously fucked up.”

  V

  Tuesday

  10

  Chase

  I wake with a nervous feeling in my stomach. Today is the day. Willow is curled up like a cat with her legs folded against her belly and her hands under her face. I hug her tight, as if holding her will make everything go away. Letting go of her is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life.

  When I walk into the kitchen, Dale is already preparing a quick breakfast for us. He hands me a plate of scrambled eggs, and I see how pale he is underneath his freckles.

  “Willow still asleep?” he asks, and I nod. “Go
od. I think we should let her sleep. Saying goodbye would make it harder.” Nodding again is all I can manage. “Nina will come over with Mira and look after Willow while we’re gone. It’ll be okay.”

  I know he’s trying to convince himself as much as me, but I am thankful for it anyway. My insides squirm as I push away the remainder of my breakfast. I don’t think I have ever been this nervous—not even when I had to tell Dale I was pregnant.

  A knock from the door announces the others. As I am unable to move, Dale gets up and lets Mira, Tien, and Nina in.

  “Didn’t want to ring the doorbell. Thought Willow might be asleep,” Tien explains with a big yawn. “Wish I was. Damn, I’m tired.”

  I’m rooted to the chair when Mira enters the kitchen. She looks at me with pity and hugs me tightly before pulling away a little, her hands on my arms. “Nervous?”

  Again, all I can do is nod. I fear if I open my mouth, I’ll throw up all over my friend.

  Tien joins us in the kitchen and explains that Dale is making sure Nina has everything she needs to watch after Willow.

  The confidence my friends are showing fills me with hope and gratitude. They don’t have to do this. They could walk away and pretend everything is fine. They’d be safe. But here they are. The knowledge that my friends are by my side unfreezes me, and I am finally able to move and speak.

  “Thank you!” I state awkwardly.

  “Of course, honey. We are happy to help,” Mira replies.

  Tien agrees, “Yeah, you’d do the same for us.”

  Suddenly I am unable to sit a second longer, filled with a buzzing eagerness to get going. I jump up from my chair, spread the notes on the table, and go over the plan one last time.

  “Okay. I walk through the front door, pretending to deliver scrubs to the doctor’s lounge. I’ll go to the bathroom on the second floor, here.” I point to a spot on our hand-drawn map. “I change into the inspector’s outfit and leave my regular clothes in a stall to pick back up later.