Exposure (The Fringe Book 2)

by Tarah Benner

  I turn to Celdon. He looks almost relieved to be sneaking onto the Underground.

  He picks up his bag and navigates around Eli to give us a moment alone, but Eli doesn’t try to kiss me again. He just stares at me with conflict raging in his eyes.

  “I’ll see you soon . . . right?”

  He nods once and forces a slight smile that’s so not Eli.

  My stomach contracts. Something isn’t right, but I don’t have time to wonder what that might be.

  I turn to go, and Eli stiffens. He looks as though he wanted to reach for me but thought better of it.

  I don’t hesitate. Not anymore.

  Before he can stop me, I turn around and reach up to find his lips. They’re warm but restrained, and I kiss him slowly to savor the taste of him.

  After a while, his hands find my waist and pull me closer, but he doesn’t deepen the kiss. It’s soft and sweet, as though it’s the only way to convey how he feels.

  I let myself breathe him in for a few more seconds and then force myself to pull away. He releases me gently, and I give him one more look before stepping out into the tunnel.

  Celdon is waiting a few yards away with a wry grin on his face, and I shove him along toward the Underground platform before any snarky comments can float back to Eli.

  Even though I have a perfect view of the platform from my compartment window, I’ve only seen the Operations workers load the cargo onto the train a handful of times. I’m a little surprised by how few there are today.

  They load up the last stack of crates, and my pulse quickens when they start trickling onto the train for the journey south.

  Sure, I’ve snuck into plenty of places I’m not supposed to be, but the stakes have never been this high.

  Celdon glances at me, and I know he’s thinking that this is not the greatest plan we’ve ever had. One shot is all we get. If we’re caught, we’ll be arrested for sure.

  Finally the last worker boards, and my heart shoots into my throat.

  “Now!”

  Celdon doesn’t need to be told twice. He shoots around the corner and makes a break for the open car.

  I sprint out behind him, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one sees us.

  My feet touch the inside of the car, and the smell of new plastic stings my nostrils. The floor is scuffed and dirty, and the lights along the top flicker intermittently.

  A voice from the platform startles me, and I pull Celdon into a crouch behind a tall stack of crates. He may have world-class hacking skills, but his “duck and cover” needs work.

  There’s more yelling, and then, without warning, the doors along the sides of the cars slide closed. The lights flicker off, throwing us into darkness.

  “Oh my god,” I whisper. “We did it.”

  Celdon turns, and I can just make out the flash of a grin.

  “One-nineteen, here we come.”

  The train lurches forward, and I feel it moving underneath us. It rolls away from the platform slowly, gradually picking up speed.

  I feel a little bit queasy, but not from the motion. I’m shocked our terrible plan actually worked, and the success and anticipation are making me feel sick with nerves.

  What will people at 119 say?

  What if they just send us right back?

  What if they stick us both in Recon this time?

  I imagine my route out on the Fringe hundreds of miles away from Eli, our orbits never intersecting.

  I quickly dismiss the thought. I shouldn’t even be thinking about Eli. When I get two miles away from the compound, my interface will be useless. I’ll have no way to contact him — no way to know he’s all right. He promised me that he would come, but that could be weeks or months from now.

  He may never come, I remind myself. He may not even live that long.

  Celdon can sense I’m worrying. With an ease I haven’t seen from him in a while, he throws an arm over my shoulders and leans back against one of the crates.

  “Relax, will you? We made it.”

  “We haven’t made it until they give us a compartment in 119,” I murmur. “They could still send us back.”

  “They wouldn’t do that. As far as they’re concerned, once you transfer, you’re no longer a citizen of the other compound.”

  I snort. “I’m not sure sneaking onto the supply train qualifies as a formal transfer.”

  “Hey. Anywhere is better than home.”

  I nod and try to relax, but leaving Eli behind has unleashed a gnawing sense of regret in the pit of my stomach.

  “He’ll be fine.”

  From Celdon’s tone, I can tell he’s smirking.

  “Who?” I say, trying to be coy.

  I can almost hear the eye roll he gives me. “Lieutenant Sexy. Your six feet of dark, moody man candy.”

  “Stop.”

  “C’mon, Harper. It’s me. Who do you think you’re fooling? It’s so obvious. And I saw your sweet little goodbye kiss back there.”

  I bite the inside of my mouth to keep from snapping at him. I know I’m probably beet red, but thankfully he can’t see.

  “The best lieutenant in Recon doesn’t go out on the Fringe with the Systems-track recruit who — no offense — is a bit of a handful,” he continues. “Nor does he bail her out of the cages . . . or take on an illegal fight . . . or get his panties in a twist when she has a relatively minor kidnapping incident.”

  I want to give Celdon a dirty look, but I’m grinning.

  “I can’t believe he didn’t come,” he says.

  I shrug despite the painful emptiness inside me. “He had a good reason.”

  “Name one reason that outweighs getting offed by Jayden.”

  “You know the reason!” I say, feeling a smack of irritation that Celdon never told me he helped Eli contact 119.

  There’s a long pause. “No, I don’t.”

  “Yeah, you do. Owen.”

  “Who?”

  My stomach drops. “He told you about Owen,” I say, a little defensively. “His brother.”

  I can feel Celdon staring at me as though I’m crazy, and that sick feeling returns to my stomach.

  “The brother you contacted 119 about. He said you helped him . . .”

  “I haven’t talked to Eli about anything but you. He never asked me to do anything.”

  Even though I should have seen it coming, that news hits me like Marta’s worst left hook.

  Eli never contacted 119. He only told me he did so I’d leave the compound.

  “He lied to me,” I say aloud.

  “What are you talking about?”

  I take a deep breath. “Eli found his brother Owen — out on the Fringe.”

  “What?”

  Celdon looks as stunned as I feel. “Well . . . that’s a pretty good reason. How the fuck is his brother still out there?”

  “They got separated when they were kids . . . in the raid that killed their parents. Eli thought Owen was dead all this time. But his brother is a drifter now.”

  “No shit?” Celdon shakes his head. “That’s messed up.”

  He falls silent for a minute, processing that information. “So Eli stayed behind to join his brother?”

  “N-No,” I choke. “He told me you helped him contact 119 about granting his brother citizenship.”

  Eli couldn’t possibly be thinking about joining his brother on the Fringe. Leaving the compound would be suicide. But if he didn’t contact 119, that means he never had any intention of following us to the compound.

  Celdon is quiet again, and I can tell he’s contemplating how Owen survived all those years. He’d accepted the fact that we weren’t the only humans left out there, because we’d survived the Fringe as babies. It was completely plausible that there were others who weren’t affected by the radiation.

  But the realization that there could be family members out there makes killing drifters much more difficult to swallow. The compound has always treated them as the enemy, but some of them are
just like us.

  “I can’t believe he lied to me,” I say again, more to myself than to Celdon.

  “He wanted you to be safe.”

  “You don’t really think he’s going to join the drifters, do you?”

  “No. Nobody does that. He probably just wants to see him again.” His face darkens. “If I ever . . . if I ever saw my mom out there —” He breaks off, his nostrils flaring in the shadows. “I’d stick around long enough to ask why the fuck she dumped me outside the compound.”

  “You don’t know that. You have no idea what happened to her.”

  “Neither do you.”

  “Even if she did, it’s because she wanted you to have a good life. You can’t fault her for that.”

  He doesn’t respond, and I know the question that’s haunted him his entire life must be killing him even more after hearing Owen survived that long.

  A new knot has settled in my chest. Eli’s lie sours the last few moments I spent with him. I can’t look back on that kiss fondly, knowing that everything that came out of his mouth before was a lie.

  I tell myself he did it to protect me — he knew there was no way I’d leave otherwise — but all I feel is betrayal and sadness. For the first time, I realize I may never see him again.

  The rest of the trip goes by painfully slow. The train maintains its breakneck speed, but the pitch blackness makes it feel as though we’re standing still. The only sign that we’re actually moving is a flash of graffiti on the tunnel walls illuminated by the small lights along the side of the train.

  An hour later, the movement changes, and I hear the high-pitched whistle of the conductor applying the breaks. I glance at Celdon, and we both move to conceal ourselves better behind the stack of crates.

  Gradually, the train slows to a stop. The lights click on, and there’s a loud hiss as the doors are released. My eyes struggle to adjust to the sudden brightness, and my body feels gelatinous from the sudden lack of motion.

  If I were standing, my legs would be wobbling. Instead, I just rest my head against the nearest crate and try to stay calm.

  I jump when somebody calls out farther up the train. And when the sound of heavy footsteps echo down the platform, my heart starts pounding.

  I can’t believe we’re actually here.

  Apart from the sounds of workers unloading the crates from the train, it’s quiet outside the car. Celdon has gone completely still beside me, and I can tell he’s wondering when we should make a break for it. We’ll be discovered if we’re still here when they get to our car, but it’s too risky to run out when they could be standing on the platform.

  Plus, since our workers came to exchange goods, it’s likely 119 has stationed a few Operations workers and controllers out on the platform to check identification and take inventory of the supplies.

  I glance around the crate we’re hiding behind, but I don’t see anyone out on the platform. People are moving around on the train, and I listen to the workers’ subdued voices as they move closer and closer to our car.

  Suddenly the floor shakes as someone boards, and there’s the loud clang of a dolly rolling onto our car.

  I hold my breath as his feet disturb the dirt inches from our crate, but he scoops up a different box and backs out onto the platform.

  I let out some air and look over at Celdon. His eyes are wide, and he mouths, “Let’s go.”

  I nod and grip the edge of our crate to pull myself up. But it isn’t as sturdy as I thought, and it starts to slide off the top of the stack.

  We both lunge to catch it before it slides off onto the floor, and it feels surprisingly light as we push it back into place.

  Celdon and I exchange a bemused look, and I unsnap the lid and peer inside.

  The crate is empty.

  “What the —”

  A noise out on the platform thrusts me back into the moment. I replace the lid and duck down again, poking my head out just enough to survey the scene.

  The worker who was just in our car is still rolling the dolly away from the train, and there’s no one else in sight. There’s no time to wonder why they would bring an empty crate. I just grab my rucksack and glance at Celdon.

  It goes against every instinct in my body to run toward the people who could send me back to the compound, but I brace myself for the worst and force my feet to move.

  Celdon disembarks right after me, and we sprint across the platform toward the cover of the Recon tunnel. I throw myself around the corner and press my back against the wall, panting hard.

  At first, I think the tunnel is deserted. It’s dark except for the sparse emergency lighting running along the ceiling.

  Then I hear footsteps approaching from the opposite end. Someone is moving in the shadows a few yards down the tunnel.

  Back on the platform, there’s a loud crash.

  I peer around the corner and see another worker step off the train. He’s wheeling a stack of crates in our direction. We’re trapped.

  We can’t reach the escalator from the platform or get to the emergency stairwell without being seen. The second we run down the tunnel toward Recon, we’re going to trigger the motion-activated lights.

  “Go!” Celdon hisses.

  We don’t have a choice. If we’re running toward someone, it might as well be in the direction of freedom.

  Despite my better judgment, I duck down the tunnel at a sprint. I brace myself for the lights and the yell of the approaching worker, but nothing happens. All I hear is the slap of our feet on tile.

  At any moment, someone could open their compartment door and see two people who don’t belong, but this wing is empty.

  We reach the door to the emergency stairwell, and I pull it open to let Celdon pass. Then the door slams behind me, throwing us into total darkness.

  twenty-seven

  Eli

  After Harper leaves, I lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. My body is spent, but I can’t shut off my brain.

  There’s a soft knock at my door, and my stomach tightens in anticipation. All my nerves come alive, and my heart rate speeds up.

  Then I remember that Harper is gone, and she’s not coming back.

  My next thought is that it could be Miles. I touch my interface, and it projects the time against my ceiling. It’s oh-two hundred — much too late for it to be anyone else.

  Fuck it. I roll over onto my side and try to go back to sleep. I don’t want to talk about Harper being gone or what my next move is, because truthfully, I have no idea.

  I feel sick about lying to her. By now, she’s probably discovered that the last words I spoke to her were bullshit.

  There’s a small glimmer of hope in my chest that she’ll get angry enough to come back here and scream at me, but that thought is quickly extinguished when I remember her lying on the ground in the dead level, seconds away from being killed.

  The visitor knocks again, more insistent this time.

  I reach over to my interface and send a quick message to Miles: Go away.

  The knocking stops, and after a few seconds, I get a reply: What are you talking about?

  Just as it hits me that the person on the other side of the door isn’t Miles, I hear the soft beep of someone punching in my door code.

  By the time the door swings open, I’m on my feet and have my gun pointed at the door.

  The light from the tunnel illuminates a dark head of hair, and my heart turns over.

  It can’t be Harper. The train hasn’t even returned yet.

  But then my lights flicker on automatically, and I stiffen.

  There’s a woman standing in my compartment, but it isn’t Harper. She’s dressed in a matte-black bodysuit with strategically placed seams and zippers that looks as though it was made for her. Her shiny high-heeled boots bring her close to my height, and her dark brown hair curls at the ends where it flows over her chest.

  The door slams shut behind her, and she fixes me with two hawklike brown eyes.

  �
��You should really answer your door, Lieutenant.”

  I stare at her, my gun still pointed at her chest.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she says, pulling out a compact handgun and training it on me.

  She looks oddly familiar, and I realize she’s from the class above me. We took a few courses together in higher ed, but her name escapes me.

  “I’m Mina,” she supplies, solidifying my suspicions that she must be a mind reader. “And you’re needed in the upper levels.”

  “Who the hell are you?” I growl.

  “We have a mutual friend,” she says in a seductive voice. “Commander Pierce was right about you.”

  I don’t have time to think about what that means. I should be relieved that Jayden is summoning me instead of having Shane send a hit man — or hit woman — to my room, but my pulse speeds up anyway.

  By now, Jayden must have heard that Shane failed to terminate Harper, and it’s possible she’s decided to shift her focus to me.

  “What does she want?”

  “Relax,” says Mina, cracking a smile that does not suit her at all. “She just needs your help with something.”

  “Yeah. The last few times I’ve heard that, it’s been her trying to kill me.”

  “Well, today’s your lucky day, Eli.”

  I hate how she says my name, drawing out the “L” so she can caress it with her tongue.

  For a few seconds, we just stand there looking at each other. She’s hot — no doubt about it — but her looks set me on edge the way Jayden’s do. They’re both poisonous flowers, beautifully designed to lure men to their deaths.

  “Let’s cut the foreplay,” says Mina, interrupting my train of thought.

  “Huh?”

  “Let’s pretend we both held our guns for a few more minutes and then decided to trust each other long enough to satisfy your curiosity.”

  “You think I’m curious?”

  She fans her long dark lashes. It isn’t subtle. “You know you are.”

  “You first.”

  “Fine.”

  With truly alarming speed, she flips her gun around so the handle is facing me. “Go ahead. Take it. You aren’t really going to shoot me.”