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by Denise Grover Swank


  “This is unprecedented, you know,” Evan murmurs, looking out the window. “The UR has never publically acknowledged the existence of the rebels. They barely recognize the survivalists. So for the UR to allow them to land…It’s unbelievable.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means they want us even more than I thought.” He looks at my fear-stricken face and pats my hand. “It could actually be a good thing, Jules. It may mean that they want us alive.”

  While I have no doubt they want Evan alive, it’s me they really want. I suspect that Evan is just part of the bargain. But if they really want justice they would have insisted on Reece too. Why didn’t they insist on Reece? A question keeps my intestines churning: Do they want to kill me or have they figured out another purpose for me?

  As the plane starts its descent I feel a panic attack brewing. I take several deep breaths but feel the need to get a moment of privacy. We haven’t been told we can’t get out of our seats, so I unbuckle my seat belt.

  Evan gives me a worried look. “Are you all right?”

  “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  “Okay.”

  Guards at the front of the aisle don’t say anything when I get up. Jo stands in the back, next to the restroom. I’m not sure what to say when I approach. Thanks for escorting us to the people who will probably kill me doesn’t seem like an appropriate remark.

  She opens the door to the restroom for me and whispers. “Tell Evan to be ready.”

  I spin to face her, wanting to ask what she means, but she pushes me in the stall and closes me in. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my shock visible. Is it possible that Jo has made up the story about being a rebel so she could help us? Guilt washes through me in hot waves. How could I have doubted her? Again. Yet, the things she said convinced Evan that she really was one of them. I’m unsure what to believe.

  I splash my face with water then exit the lavatory, wondering if Jo will say anything, but she ignores me, looking straight ahead. Part of me wonders if I imagined the whole thing, but when I get to my seat I give her one last look, and she stares straight into my face. Her expression doesn’t change, but I know that she’s on our side.

  I sit and take Evan’s hand then lean over and kiss him with a hope I haven’t felt in days. I lean into his ear and whisper, “Jo says to be ready.”

  He doesn’t react, just kisses me again, then smiles. What we’re supposed to be ready for makes me nervous, but Evan has a renewed sense of confidence.

  The plane lands and when we come to a complete stop, a soldier emerges from the curtains up front. “Wait here.”

  “They’re not going to just hand us over,” Evan whispers. “They’re going to verify the code before they give us up.”

  I nod. His suggestion makes sense.

  We sit for close to twenty minutes, long enough for me to worry that something has gone wrong. What if they don’t decide to make the trade? Will the rebels take us back and torture me until Evan tells them what they want to know? I’m not sure which I hope for.

  Finally, one of the rebel officials parts the curtains up front. He might be wearing a deep blue uniform now, but I recognize him from the panel this morning. He stops three rows in front of us and studies us with a stern look, as though appraising us. He must wonder how two teenagers are worth a nuclear code. I’m wondering the same thing.

  “Time to go.”

  The side door to the plane swings open and sunlight floods the cabin. Evan cups my elbow and pulls me to my feet, and I force myself to take me into the aisle. The official leads the way to the opening and descends the stairs. Evan pushes past me and steps out of the plane next, as though trying to shield me from what awaits us outside. Jo follows behind us, still wearing her stoic expression. I notice that the other guards carry guns, but Jo has none. How can she help us without a gun?

  The SWAT-like members of the U.S. rebels form a line parallel to the plane. The UR has soldiers lined up as well. They remind me of pictures I’ve seen from old textbooks of Revolutionary soldiers lined up in front of the English. If there’s a skirmish, I hope we’re nowhere near it.

  We climb down the steps, the clanking of our feet on the metal steps echoing in the space. When we reach the bottom, soldiers fall in around us. Evan takes my clammy hand as they escort us toward a cream-colored canvas tent. The edges flap nosily in the wind. With over fifty people on the tarp-covered tarmac, the sound is unsettling. My nerves stretch to near breaking.

  One of the UR soldiers steps out of the tent and holds the flap open as we enter. Evan pauses for half a second before continuing inside. When I glance to the left, I see the reason for his hesitation. His father stands between several United Regions generals. I recognize several from my interrogation weeks ago.

  My head floods with panic. Do they know I killed General Ghertner?

  We’re guided to two chairs in the back of the tent. Rebel soldiers with American flags sewn to their uniforms stand around us. Their stance suggests they are guarding us, which I find ironic. They guard me only to deliver me to my execution. I try not to consider how it will be done, yet my mind wanders to unwelcome places, and my breath catches.

  Evan squeezes my hand and gives me a worried look. I force a smile, but my fear is strangling.

  I have to get a hold of myself.

  The rebel official walks to the front of the room, and all the representatives sit at tables opposite from one another.

  “We have provided the fugitives as agreed. Our people have confirmed that the code is correct.”

  One of the UR generals folds his hands together and gives his rival a grim smile. “Let’s hope that this good-faith transfer will continue a peace we’ve fought to maintain for the last forty years.”

  “Yes, that is our goal as well.” The rebel official’s words drip of sarcasm.

  The general’s eyebrows lift in earnestness. “We occupy two different parts of a decimated landscape. There’s no reason for us to find one another a threat.”

  “And the balance of weapons of mass destruction will help ensure that.”

  The rebel official’s statement is one of the most oxymoronic things I’ve ever heard, yet the United Regions general nods as though it’s reasonable. No wonder this world is in such a mess.

  The rebel official stands. “So, if that is all…”

  The UR generals and Dr. Whittaker stand, and an unspoken tension creeps into the room.

  “Let me remind you, General Marcum, that we possess other nuclear missiles beside the one you so graciously provided a code for. If my people don’t hear from me in—” he looks at his watch, “thirty minutes, they won’t hesitate to send one of those missiles directly toward Springfield.”

  The general shrugs. “Mr. Davis, we’re all friends here. No need for threats.”

  “Of course.” Mr. Davis turns his head to the side and looks toward Evan and I. “I now officially transfer custody of the fugitives to your care.”

  The rebel guards file out of the tent.

  Now would be a good time for Jo to implement her plan. But nothing happens. I realize that she’s not in the room. I haven’t seen her since we got off the plane.

  The sound of the airplane’s engines fill the air as Dr. Whittaker walks toward us. Evan rises from his seat, and I stand next to him, my heart racing.

  “Evan.” He turns his gaze on me and stops. “Julia. It’s good to see that you both are safe.”

  I refrain from asking for how long.

  “Dad.” Evan’s voice is strong and easily heard over the roar of the plane outside.

  Evan’s father waves his hand to the other side of the tent and several soldiers file out onto the tarmac. A grim smile hardens his face. “The three of us will ride together in a car to the science facility.”

  Evan’s gaze shifts around the tent. “No armed guard?”

  “There’s no reason we can’t handle this civilly, is there?”

  I can’t help but wo
nder how long we’ll stay that way.

  Dr. Whittaker escorts us to a car with darkened windows and opens the back door. Evan casts a questioning glance toward his father, as though he doesn’t trust this turn of events. I don’t trust it either, but our options are to get into the car or not. And the consequences of not aren’t something I want to face, so I duck and slide onto the leather seat. Evan climbs in after me and takes my hand.

  The car door closes while Dr. Whittaker stands outside. One of the generals from the transfer approaches and enters into a heated discussion with Evan’s father.

  “What do you think they’re fighting about?” I ask.

  Evan leans forward to watch them through the window. “I suspect the general isn’t happy about our mode of transportation.”

  “What’s going to happen to us now?’

  “The fact we’ve been handed over to my father is the best of all scenarios.” He leans his face into mine. “We’ll get out of this, Jules.”

  I nod, but I’m not so sure. Evan trusted his father before. And it didn’t turn out well.

  The general leaves with angry strides while Dr. Whittaker gets into the limousine and sits on the seat opposite us. He grabs his son’s free hand and his eyes fill with tears. “I never thought I’d see you again, Evan.”

  Evan’s voice breaks. “Neither did I.”

  Once the car pulls away from the curb, Dr. Whittaker rests his elbow on the armrest and clears his throat. “You three had quite the adventure over the last couple of weeks.”

  We remain silent.

  “How is Reece? Happy to be reunited with his mother?”

  Evan stares into his father’s eyes. “Yes.”

  “And is living with the rebels everything he thought it would be?”

  “Does anything ever live up to our expectations?” Evan’s voice is hard and the way his eyes pierce his father’s it’s not hard to understand what he really means.

  Dr. Whittaker’s gaze falters at Evan’s bluntness. “I see.” He swallows and leans over to pat Evan’s leg. “I’m glad you’re safe.” His voice breaks, then he looks out the side window.

  Evan’s hand squeezes mine. “Yes, but for how long?”

  Dr. Whittaker swings his gaze to his son. “Evan, that’s not fair considering all of the trouble you’ve caused.”

  “Cut the crap, Dad. What’s going to happen to us?”

  His father looks out the side window again, avoiding eye contact. “I’d hoped to discuss this later.”

  “You mean some place where you can contain us and hope we don’t create a scene?”

  “Evan…”

  “What’s going to happen to us?”

  Dr. Whittaker clears his throat and straightens his posture. “You will be detained until you are deemed rehabilitated.”

  Evan pauses. “And Julia?”

  He doesn’t answer.

  Evan drops my hand and his body flexes as though he’s about to fly off the seat. I place my hand on his leg. “Not here, Evan.”

  He turns to me, bewildered. “Then where, Jules?”

  Dr. Whittaker clears his throat again. “We’ll detain her for a period. You’ve both been to the rebel compound. You can provide valuable insight.”

  “But it won’t be enough, will it?” Evan asks. His voice sounds garbled. “You’ll still come to the same conclusion you did before we ran away.”

  “Evan…” His father sounds exhausted. “It’s not that easy. The same issues remain.”

  “Then tell me this. Why are we so valuable that the United Regions would give the rebels a code to a nuclear weapon?”

  “You’re my son, Evan.”

  Evan glares at his father. “Are you serious? You really expect me to buy that?”

  Dr. Whittaker inhales. “Julia has something we need.”

  “What is it?”

  “When we did further studies on her blood samples we found some unusual results. We need to do additional tests.”

  Evan holds up his hands. “Wait. What unusual results?”

  “Her hemoglobin is much lower than our own.”

  “So she’s anemic. She comes from a more oxygenated world. What do you expect? That’s not enough to explain this trade.”

  “We have our reasons.”

  “Dad.”

  Dr. Whittaker’s jaw clenches, and his face turns red. “Evan, for God’s sake, will you stop asking questions?”

  Anger ripples off of Evan, his hand fisting on the seat. “Weren’t you the person who encouraged me to ask questions when I didn’t know the answer to something?”

  “You must learn to respect authority, Evan. There’s a time to push for answers and a time to keep your mouth shut. If you had learned the difference, you wouldn’t be in this position now.”

  With a gasp, Evan begins to speak, then stops, gritting his teeth.

  I share Evan’s frustration and want answers too. Maybe I can take a different approach. “Dr. Whittaker. Once I asked you to be honest with me, and you respected me enough to grant my request. I’m asking you to do so again.”

  He glares at me. “You’re the reason he’s done this. His life is all but ruined because of his desperation to save you.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t ask him to come find me. I didn’t ask him to save me.”

  His upper lip curls in derision. “He doesn’t love you, you know. He’s in love with her memory.”

  Evan’s body jolts. “You don’t know the first thing about how I feel about her.”

  Dr. Whittaker groans, massaging his temple. “Evan,” he pleads and drops his hand. “You’re blinded by your love for your Julia. This isn’t her.”

  “I’m not stupid. Don’t you think I know that?”

  “Do you? You crossed a universe to find the girl you loved.”

  Evan groans in frustration. “I was stupid. I thought we’d be exactly the same people, just different universes. But now I know it’s not true. And maybe I didn’t cross for the reasons you think I did. But I have no doubt that this Julia is nothing like the Julia I grew up with. What I had with that girl was infatuated puppy love. What I have with Jules is real.”

  Dr. Whittaker’s face softens. “Evan, you’re seventeen years old, son. You don’t know what’s real or what’s not. One day you’ll understand this, and you’ll thank me.”

  Evan’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Thank you for what?”

  “For saving you from a terrible mistake. For saving your life.”

  “I don’t understand. What does getting Julia back for your tests have to do with me?”

  The truth hits me. “We were a package deal.”

  Evan’s gaze swings to me, perplexed. “What are you talking about?”

  “We always knew that to the UR, I was the important one. But important enough to trade a nuclear code? That doesn’t make sense.” I turn to Dr. Whittaker. “It just didn’t make sense to demand my return so you could contain me. What exactly are you containing? I’ve literally been across the country and could have told everyone I met about the portal in the road. I could have told the rebels all about alternate universes and that the UR has the technology to access them. Once we escaped from Springfield—their worst-case scenario—it made getting me back pointless. It wouldn’t undo the damage I could have done.”

  Dr. Whittaker pales and looks like I’ve recited a complex physics equation.

  “I don’t have anything you need. I’m not worth a nuclear code at all.”

  Evan leans back. “Jules, what are you talking about?”

  I keep my eyes on Dr. Whittaker. “But I was the only way you could get your son home. Unless you brought me in at the same time, Evan would be a fugitive for the rest of his life and you’d likely never see him again. This way, he comes home, gets rehabilitated, and while he’ll have a black mark on his record, he’ll eventually become a productive member of the United Regions again.”

  Evan looks shell-shocked.

  My hands shake and
I ball them into a fist in my lap. “Me, on the other hand, I’m a liability. You can’t keep me around because to do so means your secret will be discovered.” I pause and wait for his response.

  “What secret?” Dr. Whittaker no longer sounds confident.

  “That you fabricated an excuse for getting me back. You created a reason the officials believe is important enough to hand over a missile code. What is it?”

  Evan’s face has paled, and I worry that he’ll pass out. He searches his father’s face, waiting for his answer.

  Dr. Whittaker sees his son’s horror and reaches for him. “Evan, it’s not how it looks.”

  Evan jerks back. “What did you do?”

  “You don’t love her, Evan.”

  “What did you do, Dad?”

  A mask of authority washes over Dr. Whittaker’s face. “I’m your father and I know what’s best. One day you’ll thank me.”

  “What did you do?”

  Dr. Whittaker rubs his temple. “I told them that getting Julia back was vital to national security.”

  The car stops, and Dr. Whittaker reaches for the handle, but Evan leans over and puts his hand over his father’s. “How could she be vital to national security? What did she supposedly do?”

  His father sighs. “It’s not what she did. It’s the potential of what she could do.”

  “And what could she do? What could she do that’s worth handing over the key to a weapon of mass destruction?”

  He drops his hand from the door handle and sits back. “I told them that without her, she’s our biggest threat, but with her she’s our biggest source of hope. What could make Julia worth handing over for a key of mass destruction? I told them that Julia is a weapon of mass destruction herself.”

  Evan bolts forward. “What?”

  “I did it for you, Evan. I did it to save you.”

  “Oh, God.” Evan rests his elbows on his legs and rubs his hands over his face. “What have you done?”

 

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