Catalyst

by Kristin Smith

  “We have once again been falsely accused of something we did not do. Kaylee was rescued from the Chromo 120 building, not kidnapped from Confinement. I’m sick of the government making us out to be monsters.”

  Angry shouts radiate around the room, but Trey hushes them with his hands. “Spread the word. We will have a meeting in the cafeteria in one hour.”

  ***

  The cafeteria is filled with people. Angry faces mix with raucous voices, and I search for a familiar face. A cleaned-up Trey stands on one of the cafeteria tables at the front of the room. Thankfully, his face doesn’t look nearly as bad as it did. Spotting Trina near the front of the crowd, I squeeze through bodies until I’m next to her.

  “Hey,” I say.

  She glances down at me, making me realize how tall she really is. “Hey,” she replies, smiling.

  “Did I miss anything?”

  “Nope, I think he’s getting ready to start.”

  As if on cue, Trey claps his hands together and then whistles with his two fingers. The room quiets down, and all eyes turn toward him. I have to admit, at first, I wondered how Trey could lead a group of people this large, but now it’s clear to me. He is respected, even loved. He doesn’t use force or intimidation to get others to follow, but instead, his example of compassion and kindness makes others want to be with him. To follow him.

  “My fellow Fringe members, we have been accused of another heinous crime. They say we are unfeeling. They think we’re monsters. But you and I both know what we are. We are not monsters. We are not unfeeling. We do care, and it is because we care that many of you are with us today. It is because we care that we cannot sit back and pretend like all is right in our world.”

  Someone in the crowd screams out, “Yeah!”

  Someone else shouts, “Harlow Ryder is the monster!”

  Trey holds up his hands to gain control. “We have the opportunity for another extraction. So, tonight, not only will we rescue someone from Harlow’s clutches, but we will also send him a message. Anyone who has been approved to do an extraction, meet at the supply entrance at 23:00 hours.” A few whoops and hollers follow before Trey raises his hands to catch everyone’s attention. “We need to be prepared in case the government finds us. We can be sniper-skilled with our guns; we can shoot the heart out of our targets; we can have the ultimate advantage in hand-to-hand combat. If the time comes, we will protect ourselves, our home, and each other. But most importantly, we will protect all those who are with us seeking refuge.”

  Trey eyes the crowd. “Training will begin early tomorrow morning. If you have any questions, you can talk to me or Nash.” Trey points to Nash, who is standing in the back, his arms crossed over his chest, his biceps bulging in his muscle shirt.

  Yeah, I’m sure Nash is excited about the training. More blood, sweat, and tears.

  Trey jumps off the table and lands lightly on his feet like a cat. I’m hoping he’ll spot me and come over, but he weaves through the crowd, mingling with the others and answering questions. A particularly pretty blonde about my age hugs him and leans in to whisper in his ear, her oversized chest grazing his arm.

  I roll my eyes and turn to Trina, who is also gazing after Trey. “Are you going tonight?” I ask.

  “Yeah. You?”

  “I don’t know if I’m cleared for an extraction.”

  She smiles. “I think you are. But if you’re not sure, just ask Trey.”

  “Okay, I will.”

  “Hey,” Trina says suddenly, “do you want to get out of here? Go someplace?”

  I nod, feeling a little nervous. Is this what girls do? Hang out? I’m not used to it. What will we talk about?

  “Follow me. I know the perfect place where we can relax and let the sun soak up our worries.”

  “Sun? Are we leaving the Compound?”

  Trina bites her lip and smiles, reminding me of a supermodel. “You’ll see.”

  We make our way through the crowd of people, and I feel slightly disappointed I haven’t had a chance to talk to Trey since I cradled his head in my lap.

  Trina leads me down the corridor away from the cafeteria and through another door that looks like it belongs to a custodial closet. It’s unlocked and Trina ushers me inside, peeking around the door to make sure no one is coming. Is this some weird prank she’s playing on me?

  She opens another door in the closet, and a steep spiral staircase extends heavenward. Her boots clunk against the metal steps as she begins climbing it.

  “Wait, where are we going?” I call after her, but she ignores me. She’s already halfway up. Even though my heart sputters in protest, I decide to follow her.

  My hands are slick with sweat, which makes the thin handrail slip and slide under my fingertips. I climb slowly until I reach the small ledge where Trina waits. She’s standing in front of a door. It isn’t until I reach out and touch it that it occurs to me I’m looking at the inside of the mountain. Dirt flakes off under my fingers, and I feel the jagged edges of rocks.

  “You ready?” Trina asks. She pushes the door open before she receives an answer.

  The first things I think of are white and blinding. After being underground for a full twenty-four hours, it’s amazing how much the sun hurts my eyes.

  We are on the side of the mountain, and the desert is laid out before me. If I strain my eyes, I can see the city on the horizon. Trina begins to climb the short distance to the top, and I follow her, the tiny pebbles on the path slipping and sliding under my shoes. When we reach the top, we stand shoulder to shoulder and stare out at the vast, desert landscape.

  “Only Trey, me, and a few others know about this place,” Trina says. “Got it?”

  “Sure.” I understand the meaning implied through her words, and a warmth burns slow in my chest. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve her trust, but I like it.

  I glance around at the blue sky, gray mountains, brownish-orange landscape, and patches of green from a stray tree or bush. “I don’t understand how one minute, we were inside the bunker, and the next, we’re on top of a mountain.”

  Trina takes a seat on a large rock and lets her legs dangle over the edge. I join her.

  “Trey’s father had this built for his mother, who hated the idea of being locked up under a mountain. She needed sunlight and fresh air. She would come here on occasion to escape the drudgery of being underground.” Trina gives me a wry smile. “It does start to wear on you after a while.”

  “Were you one of the inmates who were rescued?” I ask, staring at her smooth skin and heart-shaped lips.

  She purses those lips. “No. I actually escaped three years ago when I was seventeen.”

  “Escaped? Are you a GM?”

  Trina nods and tosses a rock off the side of the cliff. When she glances up, her eyes meet mine.

  “I had to get away from them. From everything they believed and everything they stood for. It wasn’t right—”

  “Who?”

  “My parents.”

  “Why?”

  Trina sighs and brings her knees up to her chin. “It’s a long story.”

  “And you’re going to tell me…?” I prod.

  Trina laughs. “Okay, I’ll give you the shortened version, but only because the sun is making me feel invincible.” She closes her eyes for a moment and tilts her head back, soaking up the sun’s rays. When she opens them, she stares off into the distance at something only she can see.

  “I grew up in Rubex. When I was a baby, my parents had me genetically matched to a boy. All my life, I was told I would marry this boy when I turned eighteen. There was no other option. There was no discussion. That’s the way it would be.” Trina picks up another rock and twirls it between her fingers. “My school was gender segregated, of course, so they didn’t have to worry about me meeting another student and ruining the match.” When she lifts her blue eyes, there’s pain inside. “But they didn’t expect me to fall for my math professor.”

  Oh, snap.
>
  “Nothing really happened between us, but it was enough to break up his marriage and for my parents to sentence me to eternal damnation.”

  Oh, double snap.

  Trina continues, “My genetic match was still willing to marry me, but I couldn’t go through with it. I’d had a taste of love, freedom, and choice, and I wanted more of it. I wanted to make my own decisions. Make my own match or, better yet, find someone who wanted to be with me not because of the DNA in my veins, but because of the love in my heart.” She smiles, but there is pain in it. “So, I left. I wandered for a while. It was tough after the privileged lifestyle I’d led. I knew the Fringe existed, but they were so elusive. Plus, I thought they were some vigilante group. I didn’t realize they were trying to help GMs. Then I met Trey.”

  “And you fell in love?” I dare to ask.

  Trina throws back her head and laughs. “Hell no. Trey is like a brother to me. The best brother in the world, mind you, but still only a brother.”

  My heart thuds its own sense of relief, and I’m confused why I care.

  “How about you? Why did you join the Fringe?” Trina asks, her eyes lighting up now that the spotlight is off her.

  Hmm, where to begin. “My mom was abducted a couple of days ago by a military leader named Radcliffe. I found where he’s holed up, but I need help getting her out. Trey said he’d help, but with this recent development—”

  Trina holds up a hand to stop me. “Wait a minute. Did you just say that your mom was abducted?”

  I nod.

  “And Trey’s coming up with a plan?”

  “He’s supposed to. He even said there might be some Fringe members willing to help. Would you—?” I break off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

  “Help out?” she finishes for me. In the next breath, she declares, “Hell yeah! I even have my new combat boots with the steel toes.” She models a shapely leg and winks. “Trust me, these suckers can do some damage to those sensitive man areas, if you know what I mean.”

  I laugh, and it feels great. It feels good to bond with another female. To share our experiences and worries. If this is what having a girl BFF is like, then I missed out all those years. Chaz just doesn’t measure up.

  A noise from above draws our attention to the sky. Three sleek black aerodynes fly low over the desert, heading in our direction.

  “Oh, suck.” Trina scrambles to her feet and practically drags me down the mountainside to the hidden door.

  “What is it?”

  Fear clouds her eyes. “Drones. And I don’t think they’re here to deliver mail.”

  We crouch behind a rock as the drones fly past. Even though the Compound entrance, the concrete outhouse building, is underground right now and nowhere in sight, it’s clear that’s where they’re headed. We watch as they circle the area. They are like bloodhounds, tracking a predator with their nose. Except these drones aren’t trying to sniff anyone out, all they need is their infrared element to determine the heat level. I’m sure someone is underground in that area, maybe Curly or Scar, and I’m hoping they have enough sense to take cover somewhere else.

  “We’re screwed,” Trina moans beside me, and my heart rate picks up.

  Did I do this? If Radcliffe was tracking me the day I came to the Compound looking for the underground bunker, did I inadvertently lead him here? My mouth goes dry with fear.

  I half-expect the hatch at the bottom of the machine to open and drop a bomb, but it remains closed. The drones circle the air space for several minutes, but they don’t move toward the mountains. They are fixated on the hidden entrance.

  “We better warn Trey,” Trina says low in my ear.

  We both creep to the door. Covered in fake rocks, it blends in completely with the environment. Once we’ve descended the metal staircase and our feet are firmly planted on the concrete flooring of the janitor’s closet, we take off down the hall, looking for Trey. We practically run into the Commander as he exits the cafeteria.

  “Ladies, ladies. Where’s the fire?” Nash smirks.

  “We spotted drones,” Trina blurts out. “They’re circling over the hidden entrance. There are three of them—”

  Nash’s eyes narrow, his smirk fading. “Have you told Trey yet?”

  “We were on our way to find him.”

  “He should be in his room. Run and tell him.” Nash speaks directly to Trina, like I’m not standing next to her. I don’t mind the oversight, though. Anything to keep his eyes off me.

  I start to follow Trina, but Nash grabs my upper arm. Hard.

  “Let go of me,” I hiss.

  He drags me down the hall and around the corner as I try to dig in my heels. My heart pounds in fear, and my breathing comes out raspy. What does he want with me? Does he suspect that I led them here?

  Nash backs me up against the wall and places his hands on either side of my head. He leans in close, and I try not to think about the fact that I can smell whiskey on his breath and it isn’t even noon. He stares me down for a good twenty seconds. “I’m on to you,” he finally says.

  I glare at him and try to remain calm. “About what?”

  He sneers in contempt. “Oh, I think you know. You think you have everyone fooled, but not me. Maybe Trey. Maybe Trina. But not me. I know exactly who you are and why you’re here.”

  I shake my head in irritation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And you probably don’t either considering you’ve been drinking since you woke up this morning.”

  Nash’s eyes narrow, and there’s rage behind his carefully controlled face. Before I can comprehend what’s happening, his hands close around my throat, and I’m lifted off the ground. He slams me against the wall, the noise echoing down the corridor. I gasp for air as black spots dot the edges of my vision and my throat burns like it was recently scrubbed with steel wool. Pain. All I can think of is the pain radiating through my head and down my throat.

  I will die. Right here. Right now. My death is nothing like I imagined. It won’t be at the hands of those who’ve threatened me. Instead, it will be at the hands of one of the men I ran to for protection, safety, and help.

  A calm voice speaks from behind Nash. “Put her down. Now.”

  Nash turns his head, but he doesn’t let go. “She sent them here. She’s a spy.”

  Trey speaks again, this time louder and with more authority. “Put her down, Nash.”

  Nash snarls. “I won’t allow a traitor in our midst—”

  “She’s not a traitor. Put her down and I’ll explain everything.” Trey moves forward, and I can see him out of the corner of my eye. My lungs scream for air, but I’m too weak to fight. Soon, it will be over.

  Nash’s hands release me, and I crumble to the ground on the cold concrete floor. The air feels too thick to breathe. I gasp and cough, each rush of air scratching against my raw throat.

  Closing my eyes, I focus on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. It shouldn’t be that hard, and yet, it is.

  Heavy footsteps move down the hall, away from me. When I open my eyes, Trey is crouched in front of me, his eyebrows knit together in concern. Nash is gone.

  “You okay?” Trey asks.

  I nod, too afraid to try to speak. Trey slides his arm around my waist and pulls me up. Once I’m upright, he doesn’t let go. He draws me closer, forcing me to lean on him as we walk down the hall. He smells like bath soap.

  “Where are we going?” I manage to croak. My room is in the opposite direction.

  “The infirmary. I need to change your bandage.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then he leans his head close to mine. “And we need to talk,” he says, his voice low.

  My heart pounds. What do we need to talk about? Is he going to refuse to help me rescue my mom? Maybe he thinks I should leave the Fringe Compound?

  The infirmary is adjacent to the hospital room, only a see-through door separating the two. But from here, I can’t see the beds, so I have no idea if Kaylee is still recovering or not.

&nbs
p; “How’s Kaylee doing?” I ask.

  “Better. She’s still resting.”

  Trey helps me up on the table, his strong arms doing most of the lifting. He stares at me until I become uncomfortable and avert my eyes to the floor. Taking my chin in his hand, he tilts my head back and studies my neck, his fingers gliding over the tender spots. His touch provokes a feeling in my belly I don’t like very much. An ache, raw and deep. My cheeks flush.

  Trey drops his hands, takes a step back, and clears his throat. “I’m sorry about Nash. He’s ex-military, so he tends to think the worst of people. Until he gets to know you. His intentions are good—he only wants to protect everyone.”

  Irritation fills me. I wonder when he’ll stop making excuses for his sorry-ass cousin. It seems like that’s all he does—clean up the collateral damage that is Nash. Smooth things over and hope others forget his craziness. Or is Nash only like this with me and that’s why it feels like Trey is constantly apologizing?

  If Trey wants me to leave, I can spare him the trouble of asking.

  “All I’ve done is cause trouble for everyone here,” I say. “Those drones are probably here because of me. I should leave. And figure out how to get my mom out on my own.” I move to slide off the table, but Trey’s hand on my thigh stops me.

  “No,” he says quickly. “I don’t want you to leave. Where would you go? You belong here. With us.” He clears his throat again. “With me.”

  My pulse spikes at his last words. I don’t know what they mean, and I’m not sure how I feel about them, other than the thrill of excitement that shoots through me.

  “Plus,” he says, “I could really use another extractor. And considering how well you did getting the computer chip, I think you’d be a valuable asset to us.”

  “Can I ask you something?” I say. “Why did you hire me to break in to Match 360 when clearly, you’re just as skilled as I am at breaking in?”