by Dylan Steel
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Yes?”
“What if I know someone who wants to be Lawless?”
He heaved a deep sigh. “That is not a light request. For us or your friend. There are protocols, tests of loyalty, the matter of timing—”
“—I trust her.”
“That may be so, but I must trust her. Who is this?”
“Penelope.” Sage tried to speak evenly, but she couldn’t hide the fact that her voice was shaking.
“I see. And how did you come to know that she desires to be Lawless?”
She hesitated but decided to tell the truth for once. “She knows I am. I told her about how Eprah is always watching and listening and… She doesn’t think it’s right. We’ve talked about it a few times.” The little confidence Sage had felt at the beginning of this conversation was quickly waning.
“I see.” Mr. Walsh closed his eyes, rubbing his thumb and forefinger across his brows. “That was not information you were supposed to share, Sage.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I-I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked. “She’s the only one I told. I trust her. She’s never turned me in for saying things against Eprah—even before I knew about you or the Lawless.”
Mr. Walsh’s eyes grew larger. Anger flashed behind them. “You told her about me?”
Sage gulped. She hadn’t meant to let that slip. The look of guilt on her face betrayed her.
“You’ve put not only your life at risk but also my life and in turn the lives of countless others,” he growled.
She trembled. She’d never seen Mr. Walsh look so angry before.
“You’re young,” he began, trying to reel in his rage. “I know you’re young. This is why we don’t recruit anyone at this age.” He fell silent. Sage studied his face cautiously as he pursed his lips and his nostrils flared.
“If she really wants to be Lawless, she’ll wait. She’ll keep quiet and wait patiently,” he continued, his fury bubbling just beneath the surface. “She must keep this secret, but she cannot join us yet. It is an unequivocal mistake to recruit supporters at such a young age, and it’s one I am not about to repeat.”
Sage’s cheeks burned as if she’d just been slapped. Hot tears stung her eyes. His figure blurred in front of her.
He gripped her shoulder. His tone softened. “It’s not your fault, Sage. I’ve said it before. This is an undue burden on you. One you never should have had to bear. And I’m not about to inflict that sort of suffering on another student who’s simply too young to be encumbered by such heavy responsibilities.”
She sniffed, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand.
“In a few years, if that’s still something that she wants, I’ll arrange it with her directly. You don’t need to concern yourself with it. In fact, it’s better if you don’t know one way or another. It’s safer that way.”
Sage opened her mouth to protest, but the resolute look on his face stopped her. Her shoulders slumped. “Ok.”
“I have to tell you—I had planned to give you another task this month, but I believe I need to rethink that. Telling your friend about us is quite the breach of trust.” His eyes met Sage’s. They were filled with sadness. “I think you may need to take a break from Lawless missions for awhile.”
“But I’ve kept the secret! I only told her because I knew I could trust her—I knew she wouldn’t tell anyone. She didn’t say anything when I said I hated Eprah when I first got here. Or when I told her I was looking into the books at the Archives. And neither of us said anything when we saw them take that woman! She didn’t turn those men in because I told her they were working for Eprah. She trusts me, and I trust her.” Sage stuck out her lower lip and crossed her arms.
“What men? What woman?”
“I-I don’t know. There were three men that took a woman. I knew it had to be one of the disappearances that everyone’s been talking about.” Her face reddened. “We were watching from the side of the building. I-it was awful.”
“Were you seen?” Mr. Walsh’s voice was full of concern.
“Yeah, but I heard Kai talking about it on Founders’ Day. The guy doesn’t know who we are.”
“That’s good.” He nodded, clearly lost in thought. He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you’re ok. And given the extreme measures Mr. Gaztok is apparently willing to take to get to us, I think it’s best if you two keep your observations quiet.”
He hesitated, then looked her squarely in the eye. “You have to know—you can never know you can trust someone, Sage. I thought I could trust you not to tell a soul—and you did. If I can’t trust my own judgment, how am I supposed to trust yours?”
Her face fell. Despite her attempts to justify her actions, she knew she’d broken his trust.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know. And if we lived in a different world—a better world—that would be enough for me. But I can’t risk other lives based on an apology.”
“I’ll fix it. I can do something—anything.” Her eyes were pleading.
“No.” He shook his head. “Right now, your silence is all I have to measure your trustworthiness by. So for now, that’s all I can ask of you.”
“Ok.” She bit her lip. “How long?”
“That I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But now, if there’s nothing else, I think we’re pushing our luck with the length of this meeting. Someone’s bound to wonder where you are, and I have somewhere to be shortly.” He swept his hand toward the door. “I’ll be in touch when we’re ready to move forward again.”
This time, Sage didn’t put up a fight. She walked out the door, her spirit crushed. Somehow, she had to regain his trust. It made her sick to think that she might have jeopardized a chance to rescue Lita just because she hadn’t gotten permission to tell Penelope the truth.
14. DISCRETION
“Are we still on for tomorrow night?” Sage asked as soon as Nic looked up at her.
“Yeah, definitely. See you then.”
“Ok. Thanks.” She breathed a sigh of relief. Nic’s attention had already returned to the structure that he and a few of his classmates were working on building. It was a bonus project, one that was supposed to help boost their scores in math—not that they needed any help doing that, but it would probably factor into their Chances at graduation.
She couldn’t help but be impressed by that sort of advanced planning. Most of her other classmates drifted lazily through each year, not bothering to put effort into any subject—academic or extracurricular. Sage spent most of her energy on achieving high history scores and Bokja rankings, though she knew she still had room for improvement even there. Ignoring her weaker subjects wasn’t something she could afford to do.
Thanks to help from Nic and Everett, Sage had actually passed every section of her preliminary exams. She hadn’t exactly done so with an enormous cushion of correct answers in math, but at least the Institution considered her to be on track for the year. And she still had months to refine her understanding before final exams came around.
Sage plopped down in the lounge area beside Penelope and Pippa.
“That looks amazing. I still can’t believe you drew it,” Penelope gushed, leaning over Pippa’s databook.
Pippa beamed. “It took me all week. Ms. Tarlow said she thought I might wind up doing sculpture or design work after graduation.”
Sage peeked over Pippa’s shoulder. An impressive sketch of two figures clearly at odds filled her screen. “Wow, Pippa. That is really good.” She looked closer, wrinkling her eyebrows. “What are they doing? Is it Bokja?”
“Our assignment was to draw something representing a conflict that we’ve seen. So I drew someone being abducted by a Lawless. With all the disappearances lately, it seemed like an obvious choice.” She puffed up her chest proudly.
“Wow.” Penelope whistled. “I can see why you chose that.”
“It is… moving,” Sage agreed, forcing down her disgust. She was impressed at the ease with which Penelope handled the
revelation. Pushing aside her surprise, she focused on her databook and the assignments in front of her, grateful for the ensuing silence.
Pippa frowned, deep in thought. She rubbed at a speck on the edge of her screen. “I can’t believe they haven’t caught them yet,” she mumbled.
“Who?” Sage blinked as she looked up from her databook.
“Whatever Lawless scum are behind these disappearances.” Pippa spat out the words like they were as vile as the kidnappers.
“Oh. Yeah,” Sage muttered.
“It is surprising,” Penelope added. “With all the resources Eprah has at its disposal—not to mention all the citizens that are on high alert—I’m surprised anyone is still going missing at all.”
Pippa’s forehead creased. “You’re right. The Lawless must have someone on the inside helping them. That makes it even worse.” Her nose wrinkled. “Disgusting traitor. That’s a new low, even for them.”
Sage swallowed back the retort that was forming. It would only draw suspicion if she disagreed with Pippa’s conclusion.
Ever the diplomat, Penelope discretely came to her rescue. “I suppose it’s impossible for us to know exactly what’s going on. But I doubt Eprah could be so easily deceived by the Lawless. Especially for so long. I’m sure there’s something else going on that they just haven’t told us.”
That’s an understatement, Sage thought.
“Maybe,” Pippa said doubtfully. “I just want them to stop taking people.”
“I think everyone does,” Sage said quietly. “I can’t imagine how horrifying it is for the people who’ve been taken.”
“Can you imagine what’s going through their heads?” Pippa whistled and shook her head. “Eprah’s name,” she breathed, “that’s assuming they’re still alive. And why would the Lawless bother keeping them alive?”
“Why would the Lawless bother taking them in the first place?” Penelope slipped the question into the conversation seamlessly. “I mean, none of it makes sense. What’s their angle?”
“I dunno.” Pippa shrugged. “Why do they do anything? Why do they even exist? They’re just crazy, I guess.”
“I don’t buy that. Not completely,” Penelope said as she leaned back. “People have to have a reason for what they do. Even if they’re doing the wrong thing. And obviously, taking people is the wrong thing.”
Pippa scrunched up her eyebrows, struggling silently to make sense of what Penelope had said. She’d made a good point, and Pippa was clearly unsettled by it.
Taking advantage of the lapse in conversation, Sage chewed her lip and forced her eyes back to her databook screen. She really did need to study. Not that she’d be able to focus now.
Penelope handled that conversation a lot better than she had—and she’d even managed to plant the smallest seed of doubt in Pippa’s head about the story that everyone had been fed. Undoubtedly, she would be an asset to the Lawless cause. Somehow, Sage had to make Mr. Walsh see that. He had to know that Sage’s judgment wasn’t compromised and that she only had the best interests of the Lawless at heart. He had to know that she would do anything in her power to take Eprah down. And to free Lita.
15. THE HOSPITAL
It was only a short walk to the day’s excursion. The building was within sight of the Institution’s play yard. Even so, Darren continued his exasperating habit of securing Sage’s hand in his before they exited the gates. He’d gotten it in his head that being paired with her meant trouble, and he didn’t want to suffer the consequences of her bad choices. Her insistence that she only wanted to follow the rules didn’t seem to offer enough reassurance for him to relinquish his hold over her.
They crossed the sidewalk, trailing after Ms. Ashton. The flat, whitewashed exterior of the hospital towered above them. Their instructor led them straight through the main doors and into a cold, sterile lobby.
Almost as soon as they’d stepped inside, a man and woman brushed by their group and walked out the main entrance, clutching a crying bundle of blankets. Chills pricked at Sage’s skin as she remembered seeing Rosalind outside the same doors, also carrying her new baby. Her muscles tensed. A bitterness gripped her as she remembered that this was going to be a wasted trip—she wasn’t going to be given any missions at present. Despite her loyalty to the Lawless, Mr. Walsh didn’t fully trust her. She frowned and stood a bit taller, pushing the thoughts out of her mind.
Darren glanced down at her with pursed lips and a raised eyebrow. She merely glared back in response. Even if he could force her to stay by his side, her internal struggle was none of his business.
“We’re here for the tour.” Ms. Ashton had already walked up to the visitors’ station at the end of the room. Not that it had taken long. The lobby was a rather unimpressive, small, no-frills room with the sole function of directing patients and visitors to the appropriate places.
“Uh-huh,” one of the women behind the desk said dully. “They’re expecting you. Second floor.” She pushed a card across the counter at Ms. Ashton. She snatched it up and clicked her heels toward a hallway at the edge of the lobby, assuming the students would follow. They did.
The group came to a stop in the middle of the hallway. Sage thought it was an odd room—dozens of doors lined either side
“Four for the second floor,” she mumbled into the hand that was holding the card. Four different doors rolled open. “Everyone in,” she ordered.
They divided into smaller groups and piled into separate Transfers. Most of the buildings they’d visited had various sizes of these rooms for faster transportation, so they were no longer a novelty, but Sage still had trouble keeping her lunch down every time they stepped inside one.
As soon as the doors closed, the small room shot upward. Sage instinctively gripped Darren’s hand a little tighter. She couldn’t help but notice the smirk on his face. Every time. It annoyed her, but there wasn’t much she could do about it as long as Transfers accelerated so forcefully.
The Transfer came to rest rather suddenly. Sage looked around dubiously. She didn’t know why she was surprised by the abrupt end. They’d only needed to travel up one floor, after all.
Her smaller group rejoined the others in the new hallway outside the door. Ms. Ashton led them into another small lobby area similar to the one they’d just left, but this one had roughly two dozen chairs on one side of the room and about a dozen nurses sitting behind a desk.
Ms. Ashton strode up to the counter, not caring that the students straggled in awkward bunches behind her. “I was told to come to this floor to begin our tour,” she stated matter-of-factly, her manner of announcing their presence to the nurses.
Three nurses looked up from their work and exchanged glances with one another. After a moment of indecision and a bitter glare at the other two, one of the nurses responded.
“Of course.” She stood up, tucking a strand of her chin length blue-black hair behind her ear. “I guess I’m your guide. I’m Wendy.”
“Ms. Ashton,” the instructor replied coolly, looking down her nose at the woman.
Wendy stepped out from behind the nurses’ station. “We can begin on this floor, if you don’t have a preference.”
“By all means, Wendy, lead the way.” Ms. Ashton allowed the young woman to direct them, but she was clearly unimpressed by her.
The nurse smirked. “Here,” she said, tossing a paper mask at Ms. Ashton, who fumbled clumsily in an attempt to catch it. “You’ll all want one of these for this wing.”
She grabbed another handful of masks and held them out for the students to grab. Darren released Sage’s hand just long enough for them both to secure the masks over the bottom halves of their faces.
“As you might have suspected, this is where the infirmed stay for treatment and recovery,” Wendy called over her shoulder as they walked down a new hallway.
“They’re not all contagious,” she explained, “but there are some nasty illnesses here, so be careful not to touch anything. Especially not your fac
es.”
About half of the doors they passed were open, revealing one sickly adult after another. An elderly man staggered near one of the doorways as they walked by, falling into a coughing fit. He stumbled, reaching out his hand to grab ahold of the wall, but he missed, falling into the crowd of students. The girl he fell on top of let out a muffled scream through her mask. Sage jumped and inched closer to Darren. She could have sworn he was grinning, but the mask made it impossible to tell for sure.
Wendy helped the man up and escorted him back to his room. She reassured him that someone would be right with him, pressed a button on the wall just outside his room, and then closed the door.
“As I said, be sure not to touch anything,” Wendy repeated with a sigh.
“What’s wrong with him?” The girl who’d accidentally broken the man’s fall shuddered. Sage figured a look of disgust was on her face just below the mask.
The nurse’s eyebrow shot up. “Um, he’s sick. Like the others. That’s kind of the point of this section of the hospital.”
Sage caught a hint of an eye roll from the nurse as she turned around. It was probably just her imagination, but it seemed as if Wendy picked up the pace after their unsettling encounter with one of the hospital’s guests. Not that there was much of interest to see anyway.
They soon reached the hallway of Transfers again. The nurse nodded to Ms. Ashton, who proceeded to speak into the card once more.
“You may discard your masks over there now.” Wendy nodded toward a large plastic-lined bin in the corner of the hall. The students were only too eager to do so—in a matter of seconds, every last mask had been tossed in the bin.
Just before the Transfer doors opened, Sage heard a loud hiss, and a sudden curtain of cold air burst across her face like a sharp slap before shooting across her clothes and down her body. She looked up at Darren. The sour expression on his face reassured her that she wasn’t the only one who’d just endured the brief, unpleasant sensation.
“Decontamination.” Wendy shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s protocol whenever anyone leaves this wing. That way, we don’t spread disease among our other guests.”
