Catalyst

by Kristin Smith

  I quickly count in my head. Fourteen went in, but thirteen came out. One more left. Who? Then it hits me. Garrett.

  Glancing around, I double check that I didn’t miss him, hoping that maybe he somehow snuck past me. No, there’s no Garrett.

  I rush over to Trey, my heart pounding. “How much time do we have left? Garrett is still in there.”

  Trey glances at the time on his Lynk. His eyes widen before he looks up at me. “Two minutes.”

  Fear courses through me. “We have to warn him.”

  “I’ll go,” Trey says, starting forward.

  I grab his arm, pulling him back. “No, I will. I know that building like the back of my hand.”

  Realization dawns in Trey’s eyes and his face softens, but I don’t have time to contemplate his lightbulb moment. I take off for the entrance to the Megasphere, my feet pounding against the uneven pavement. As I race up the stairs, calling Garrett’s name, I set a countdown on my Lynk. One minute and thirty seconds and counting.

  “Garrett,” I scream, my heart thudding loudly in my chest. “Garrett!”

  I hear his footsteps before I see him. “Right here,” he calls, moving swiftly down the stairs.

  “We have to get out of here now! The explosives are set to blow in—” I stop and glance at my Lynk. “In less than a minute!”

  “Go!” he yells. “I’m right behind you.”

  I race down the stairs, glancing behind me every few seconds to make sure Garrett is still there. When I reach the last level, I practically collide into Trey, who is on his way up. His strong arms steady me when my legs almost collapse beneath me. He takes my hand, pulling me out the door and across the pavement. The other Fringe members are nowhere in sight, and Trey’s truck now sits a good hundred yards up the road. We run, side by side, and it isn’t until I hear the blast and feel the whoosh of air that I turn to see if Garrett made it out. I scan the road, but it’s empty.

  Jerking my hand from Trey’s grasp, I stop. “Did Garrett make it out?” I pant.

  “He was right behind us. He should have.”

  Another blast roars through the building and throws me backward. I land on my rear in a daze as heat spills out of the building. Pain shoots from my butt to my legs, and I turn my head to see Trey sprawled on his side.

  “You okay?” I call out.

  He pushes himself to his feet and offers me his hand. Grateful, I grasp it and pull myself up. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he says.

  My eyes scan the area in front of the burning building. I know it’s only a matter of time before another blast rips through it. “Where’s Garrett?”

  I shout his name and wait to hear him call back. But the only thing I hear is the roar, hiss, and pop of the fire consuming the Megasphere. Then there’s another sound that makes my blood run cold. An air horn. It blows in the distance, signaling that the Enforcers are on their way. Soon, they will surround this area.

  “We have to get out of here.” Trey grabs for my hand.

  “Not without Garrett.” I rip my hand from his grasp and scan the area with my flashlight.

  “He’s not here, Sienna.” Trey shakes his head, his eyes pained. “I don’t think he made it.”

  “But he was right behind us,” I protest. “What could have happened?” Then it dawns on me. “Maybe he’s trapped.” I sprint back toward the building before Trey can stop me.

  The lower-level explosives haven’t gone off yet, but I cringe as I shove open the door to the entrance, knowing they will at any moment. In the lower stairwell, I find Garrett, his leg trapped beneath a pillar.

  “Sienna, you have to get out of here. The other bombs haven’t blown yet.”

  I struggle to remove the pillar, but it’s too heavy. Desperate, I shine my flashlight around, looking for something to use as a lever. Trey’s large frame stands in the doorway.

  “He’s trapped. I can’t get this thing off him,” I yell to Trey. The hum of the Enforcers’ vehicles draw closer and closer.

  Trey moves quickly to Garrett’s side. Together, we heave. A blast above us rips through the building and we’re thrown backward. The stairwell fills with dust and smoke as more debris falls, leaving a wake of destruction and completely covering Garrett.

  “Garrett, you okay?” I gasp, struggling to sit up. As the dust settles, I see a dazed Garrett neck deep in debris.

  “You have to go. Now,” Garrett says, his voice firm as steel.

  “Not without you,” I protest, climbing to my feet and pulling plaster and splintered boards off his legs.

  Garrett reaches out a hand to stop me. “Thanks for caring, but you need to go. Remember the conversation we had in the tunnel?” He smiles. “It’s okay. I’m okay with it.”

  I shake my head as tears form in my eyes and run down my cheeks. “No,” I choke out.

  “Trey, get her out of here,” Garrett says, closing his eyes.

  Trey looks from him to me for a moment before he scoops me up in his arms and carries me kicking and screaming from the Megasphere. “No, don’t do this,” I cry in desperation, but my sobs are drowned out by the explosive force that sends Trey to his knees and me skidding across the pavement. I lay in a crumbled heap, the world muffled around me, my body bruised and sore, and my heart aching.

  Groaning, I roll over on my back and glance into the sky at the towering fireball that was once my safe haven. Salty tears fall down my cheeks as I think of the boy trapped in that burning inferno. A boy who could have passed for my twin. A boy who, in the end, saved my life.

  Trey pulls me to my feet. With one arm around my waist, he helps me limp the one hundred yards to where his truck is parked. The other Fringe members pour out of the abandoned buildings surrounding the Megasphere and climb into the trucks.

  The steady hum of the Enforcers’ electric vehicles draws closer, and I glance over my shoulder as Trey helps me into the front seat. Five energy cars have surrounded the Megasphere, and over half a dozen Enforcers are climbing out with their laser guns drawn. Too busy eyeing the damage, they don’t notice us down the dark, deserted street. But as soon as Trey starts the truck, they’ll know we’re here.

  “Hank, Samuel, give me a push. I’ll put it in neutral until we’re far enough away that they won’t hear me start it.” The other Fringe members climb out of the vehicle, but I remain motionless on the front seat. I’m too stunned to care. Too tired to give a damn what happens now. I feel the vehicle move slowly beneath me, inching along the road. I’m sure Nash and his crew are doing the same thing.

  When we are far enough away that the Enforcers won’t hear the start of the truck engine over the roar of the fire, Trey climbs back in and Trina settles beside me. Orange flames light the sky behind us.

  The ride back to the Compound is filled with silence. I have nothing to say. I think Trina is too afraid to say anything, and Trey is probably wallowing in guilt.

  A life for a life. I only hope it was worth it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “We lost one of our own tonight,” Trey says, addressing the crowd after we return to the Compound. “I want you to know I take full responsibility. I wasn’t careful enough, and because of it, Garrett Johnson is no longer with us.” He bows his head for a moment. When he lifts it, I see the sorrow in his eyes.

  “Does anyone have anything they’d like to say on Garrett’s behalf?” Trey asks. No one says a word, and I think, Come on people, nothing? Really?

  When the silence becomes unbearable, I slowly raise my hand.

  Trey nods for me to speak, and I begin, hesitantly at first, but then drawing my confidence from the type of person Garrett was.

  “I didn’t know Garrett that long,” I start. “In fact, I only met him tonight.” A chuckle breaks out from the crowd, but Trey silences the boy with a look. I feel dozens of eyes on me, and I continue. “Even in those few moments that we spoke, he made an impression on me. He told me his mom died a noble death. When I asked if it bothered him what the government did, he sa
id, ‘I can’t change the past. But I can improve the future.’”

  I pause for a moment, letting the words sink in. When I continue, my voice is stronger, and I only hope that what I’m saying would make Garrett proud. “Garrett understood our purpose for being here. It isn’t to bomb, burn, and destroy, but to improve the future. If that means hiding GMs and rescuing inmates, then let’s make it count. Garrett Johnson gave his life to save another, someone he’s never even met. He’ll always be a hero in my book.”

  Dropping my head, I turn to go inside the Compound and steal away to the quiet of my room. A voice speaks from behind me, and I stop to hear what he has to say.

  “Sienna, I’m sorry.”

  I turn to face Trey. “It’s okay,” I say, my eyes never quite meeting his. “It couldn’t be helped.”

  “No, not about Garrett. Although, I’m sorry about him too. I mean, about the Megasphere.” My eyes lift to his. “If I had known how much it meant to you, I wouldn’t have chosen it.” His blue eyes are kind, sincere, but my heart aches so badly that I don’t have room for compassion.

  I shrug. “It was just an old ride. It wasn’t meant to hold meaning.”

  Neither of us speaks for a moment, and I can tell Trey is struggling to find the right words. The ones that will relieve me of my pain—that will allow me some comfort.

  “Please tell me that Jeff was able to extract that inmate,” I say. Please tell me Garrett didn’t die for nothing.

  “Yeah, he did.” Trey clears his throat. “Thank you for your words. About Garrett, I mean,” he says.

  “Somebody had to say something,” I reply in a tired voice.

  “Yes, but you said the right thing. So, thank you. Garrett would have appreciated it—” Trey breaks off, overcome with emotion. I haven’t even taken into consideration how he’s handling Garrett’s death. Trey knew him for years, and I, only a few minutes.

  I lay a hand on his arm, a gesture of empathy I somehow muster from somewhere. “I’m sorry about Garrett.”

  “Me too,” he says, his eyes moist. He quickly rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, clearing his throat again. “Don’t forget,” he says finally, “we’re meeting after lunch in my room to plan your mother’s rescue.”

  “I look forward to it.” I turn and trudge up the stairs to the Compound and the comfort of my eight-by-eight room. When I shut the door, I flop down on my mattress and cry until I don’t have any more tears left to shed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  After lunch, a small crowd gathers in Trey’s room. When I walk through the open door, the muscles in my neck tighten. Nash is there, lounging on Trey’s bed, along with Trina, who is seated at the foot of the bed. Curly has taken a stance in the corner, and two other boys I don’t recognize are sprawled on the floor. Trey is leaning over his desk, a metal contraption that looks like it was ripped from the garbage. Nash’s eyes rest on me as I hesitate in the doorway.

  “Preston, here’s a seat for you,” he calls out, patting the bed beside him.

  I’m about to tell him to go to hell when I catch Trey looking at me. He nods to the space beside him. I step over the boys sprawled out on the floor as Trey pulls out a wooden chair from under the contraption and moves it to the side of the desk. “You can sit here.”

  Once I’m seated, Trey crosses the room and closes the door before returning to his original spot.

  “Everyone’s here, so we can go ahead and get started.” Trey pauses, glancing around the room. “I called you here to talk about an assignment.” His eyes flicker to me for a second. “A special assignment.”

  At the mention of a special assignment, Nash sits up on the bed and leans forward, his arms resting on his knees. The two boys on the floor also perk up.

  “Now, obviously, in the wake of what happened last night, I feel I should warn you about the risks involved. This will be a challenging mission, but I think we can pull it off.”

  “What’s the assignment?” Nash calls out.

  Trey continues. “A woman by the name of Vivian Preston was kidnapped by government officials a few days ago.”

  Nash’s eyebrows rise as he turns to me. I ignore him. Let him think what he wants.

  “We think she’s being held in an underground bunker. We need to find a way in and extract her. Sienna has been there—”

  “Hell no,” Nash says, his tone flat and hard.

  Trey’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, hell no. It’s a trap. Can’t you see that?” He turns to face the group. “This girl is nothing more than a spy. Why do you think the drones were circling overhead yesterday? They were looking for her.”

  “Nash,” Trey threatens, his voice low. “That’s enough.”

  “Of course, I don’t expect you to see it. You’ve been trying to get into her pants since she got here the other day. What’s that saying about fresh meat?”

  I watch with wide eyes as Trey’s jaw clenches and his hands ball into fists. Oh no, not another brawl. Please, not another one.

  I half-expect Trey to tackle Nash, or kick him in the face, but he doesn’t. I’m amazed by his restraint.

  “Get out,” Trey says. I’ve never seen him look so angry, not even when President Shard said the Fringe needed to be eradicated.

  Nash rises and saunters toward the door. “You’re all stupid if you’re gonna go along with this. It’s an ambush. Nothing more, nothing less.” He stops at the door and throws a contemptuous look at Trey. “I guess I won’t be too upset if you get killed.” His lips curl into a wicked grin. “If you die, I’m in charge. Just remember that.”

  The door slams shut behind him, and I slowly let out the breath I’ve been holding. I’m afraid to look at Trey. Will he hate me for causing this rift between him and his cousin? I keep my head low, staring at the stamped concrete flooring and shag rug.

  “Anyone else?” Trey counters. “Anyone else want to back out? Because if so, now is the time to do it.”

  I dare a glance at him. His blue eyes flame with rage, and his mouth is set in a hard line, making the dimple in his chin more prominent. A muscle in his jaw twitches as he clenches and unclenches his teeth.

  My eyes shift until they connect with Trina’s across the room. She gives me the ‘Oh crap, what just happened?’ look by raising her eyebrows and baring her teeth. Not a becoming look on her.

  The two boys on the floor rise to their feet and throw me an apologetic look. “Sorry,” they mutter to Trey as they move to the door. It closes a little more quietly behind them.

  Trey waits a few more moments, but I can’t look at him. I stare at the floor, the cinderblock wall, my cuticles—anything to avoid eye contact.

  I try not to think about what Nash crudely said about Trey and my pants. Why would he make that comment? It is so not true. And yet, just thinking of it makes me blush and that stupid ache to return to my belly.

  When Trey finally speaks, he sounds like he is more under control. “I assume those of you who stayed are willing to help. Correct?”

  I glance around the room at the two remaining and willing participants—Trina and Curly, aka Jeb.

  “Hell yeah. I’m always up for a government beat down.” Curly smiles.

  “Me too,” Trina says.

  I flash them both a grateful smile and turn my attention back to Trey. He’s also avoiding eye contact. Out of embarrassment? Anger?

  He opens a desk drawer and pulls out a cylindrical box. After setting it on the desk, he presses a button, and a holographic image materializes in the air above the box. It’s a picture of the inside of a bunker. The image does a 360-degree turn, and then another image takes its place. This time, it’s the inside of a cell block.

  “Hey, I was there,” I say, excited. “That’s the cell block where they’re keeping my mom.” My eyes meet Trey’s. “How did you—?”

  “You’re not the only one with sources,” he says.

  The image spins before giving us the same room from a diff
erent angle.

  “If you look closely, you can see three guards at the entrance to the cell block. They are heavily armed with AK-47s.”

  At each picture, Trey points out the guards and their weaponry. As I watch him, his eyes intent on the images, I realize something. He’s been working on this since I first asked for his help two days ago. This isn’t something he’s haphazardly thrown together. This is a careful, thought-out design with a plan to go with it. I cringe when I think of his specific request to give him a few more days. Now I feel stupid for questioning him. I have a new level of respect for the guy standing in front of me. And an immense amount of gratitude.

  When the last image dies down, Trey claps his hands together. “It will be difficult, but it won’t be impossible.” He glances around at the remaining three of us. “If you’re still game, let’s go over a step-by-step plan of how this will go down.”

  For the next two hours, we hammer out the details. We figure out who will cause a distraction, who will sneak inside, who will take out a few guards, and who will rescue my mom.

  When I think my eyes might bug out of my head from staring at the sketch Trey has made on the oversized paper, and my back aches from leaning over his desk, Trey dismisses us.

  “Get some rest or do some target shooting. We’ll meet tonight in the tunnel at twenty-two hundred hours.”

  “Tonight?” Curly asks incredulously.

  Trey’s eyes narrow, and I’m glad I’m not on the receiving end of that look. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, sir. I’m surprised, that’s all. I didn’t realize we were doing this so soon.”

  Trey shrugs. “No time like the present.” He turns his back as if the conversation is over. The three of us stand and shuffle to the door, but I want to thank Trey for taking this on. He could have refused to help, but instead, he is risking his life for me.

  I glance behind me at his broad shoulders and dark head stooped over the sketch. No, I don’t want to bother him. He appears to be concentrating as he goes over each detail. I’m following Trina out the door when he stops me.