He inhaled the still air around him. The cover of dark offered him the solitude, the space, and the privacy to think and to mull over daily happenings. On most nights it gave him a chance to clear out his head before heading into a new day, but tonight was different.
He’d become quite adept at compartmentalizing every moment and the emotions attached to each one, placing them in neat little mental cubbies so he was free of distraction. It was one of the skills that helped him garner such success in his work with the CityWatch. But he found himself incapable of finding a box that fit her—the soft shape of her face, her golden cascading hair, those sweet green eyes filled with tears. Seeing Carrington in pain angered him. And that confused him.
Seeing girls cry was an unpleasant but common part of his work. He considered himself impervious to their misery, but with her, he had discovered a chink in that armor. The first time he’d seen Carrington outside the Stacks limits heaving herself sick, he’d assumed his worry stemmed from a simple concern for her health. He should have known after the rage that filled him when he found the men harassing her that what he felt went deeper than casual concern. He felt responsible for her safety, her happiness, her reputation.
Remko stood and paced inside the small outpost box. He ran his fingers through his thick hair and reminded himself that protecting her from physical harm was all that was required of him; actually, it was all that was tolerated. Anything else was not his place.
“Pacing. That can’t be good,” a voice said.
Remko spun to see Helms leaning against the inside of the outpost wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Remko wasn’t surprised to see him; Helms often ended up in the box while Remko was on duty.
“You shou . . . shou . . . should be sleeping,” Remko said.
“Sleep is for suckers.” Helms crossed the space and claimed the free seat. “Besides, you are supposed to be keeping watch, but you’re completely stuck inside your own head. It would be a bummer if we got invaded right now.”
Remko turned back to the open plain. Helms was right; he was completely distracted, which was uncharacteristic for Remko . . . and for Helms. Helms was hardly ever right.
“So, you wanna talk about it?” Helms asked.
Remko shook his head.
“Good. Me neither. I did, however, hear about the incident in the city center today.”
Remko turned back to face Helms. He shouldn’t be surprised. Word of anything out of the ordinary always spread like wildfire.
“AJ asked me why you didn’t report it. I told him because it was a small incident and the paperwork wouldn’t be worth it. Then I reminded him that he should keep his mouth shut about things that aren’t his business or I might forget to keep his little secret next time Dodson is around.”
Remko didn’t know what the secret was, but Helms had a unique ability to collect the goods on everyone around him. It worked in his favor since he wasn’t the biggest guard in the barracks.
Helms weaved a silver coin that he always kept in his pocket back and forth across his knuckles. The coin caught the starlight as it moved from finger to finger. Helms’s father had given him the special coin with the expectation that Helms would give it to his first son. After being placed in the CityWatch, Helms had tried to give it back to his father, but he wouldn’t accept it. Helms treasured the coin above nearly everything else.
“Paperwork. That’s the story for anyone who asks, even though we both know that’s not the truth,” Helms said. A sly smile spread across his face, and Remko’s first instinct was to slap it off. “Don’t worry, man, your secret is safe with me. We’re brothers. You know I would never sell you out.”
Remko felt his anxiety ease and he knew Helms’s words to be true. The two of them had been through more than most, and Helms would never put himself in a situation to be a threat. The real threat here was Remko himself.
“Just one thing I need to clear up,” Helms said, leaning forward. Remko could already feel his face betraying him with a smirk.
“I wanna make sure we’re still going to be brothers when she meets me and forgets you exist.”
Remko chuckled and yanked Helms out of the chair.
“See, this is what I’m talking about. I’m already feeling your hostility just at the hint of it. Man, you know I have no control over the ladies’ reactions.”
Remko rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Get out of my box.”
Someone shook Carrington from her dreamless sleep, and her first thought was that this was another nightmare. It was the first time in nearly a week that she had slept without a dream. The night before, she had lain awake replaying the scene in the city center over and over. Each time, her brother cried more violently and her mother’s face turned colder. She hadn’t even attempted to sleep. Tonight when she crawled into bed the weight of exhaustion was so heavy that sleep was no victim to her nightmares and she was out in seconds.
Carrington opened her eyes and saw the distorted face of someone familiar, but the fog of sleep kept her from seeing clearly.
“Carrington,” the voice whispered. “It’s me, Larkin. Get up.”
“Larkin?” Carrington said at normal volume.
“Shh—you’ll wake your snoring friend. Meet me out in the main room.”
The blurry figure stood and quietly exited. Carrington rubbed her eyes and swung her legs out from under the covers. She couldn’t decide whether to be panicked or angry. Grabbing the extra blanket at the end of her bed, she draped it around her shoulders and headed out of the bedroom.
Larkin stood waiting, fully dressed, wide awake.
“What are you doing here?” Carrington asked.
“I’m going to hear Aaron speak,” Larkin said.
“It’s the middle of the night.”
Larkin nodded. “Come with me.”
Carrington shook her head in disbelief. “This is why you woke me up? No, I already told you—”
“I know. I just thought after yesterday . . .” Larkin trailed off.
Her words broke open the wound in Carrington’s chest and she turned away. “Why would that change anything?”
The question hung in the air for a long moment before Larkin stepped forward and placed a soft hand on Carrington’s arm.
“I saw the way your mother looked at you, the way everyone looked at you. It’s the same way they look at me. Don’t you want to feel something different from what you felt yesterday? Maybe unlike anything you’ve ever felt before?”
Carrington looked back at Larkin and ignored the feeling of longing in her stomach. “Don’t go. You’ll get caught.”
“I won’t. We won’t.”
“You can’t take that risk.”
Larkin shrugged. “Yeah? And risk all this?” She motioned around the cold room. Carrington’s pain and exhaustion collided with her curiosity and she moved away from Larkin.
“Go, then, but I’m not coming.”
Larkin dropped her head and nodded in defeat. “I wish you would,” she said simply and then turned to slip quietly out of the loft. Carrington watched the stillness of the door. She told herself she was making the right choice by staying, by following the rules.
She moved back into her room and slumped onto her bed. She plopped down and curled up in the blanket that was still wrapped around her. Silence settled over her and she begged for sleep, but nagging questions started instead. Quiet at first, but constant.
Who was Aaron? What did he teach? Why were people willing to risk their safety to hear him? Could his message really be that different? If it was, could it be true? Could she feel different? Could she be different?
Like birds pecking at her brain, the questions came in a continuous loop. As they lingered they grew in volume. She was hearing them in her own voice now, trapped inside her head, echoing in her ears.
She placed her hands over her ears and pulled her head down toward her chest. Carrington couldn’t go with Larkin; it would be against the rules. She could remembe
r her mother telling her the rules existed for a reason. They were God’s rules, after all, given to His people for the purpose of prosperity.
The thought of her mother brought her racing mind to a halt. Her mother had told her a lot of things that had proven to be false.
“Do as you’re told and you’ll be perfect. God will bless you.”
“Follow each step and you can do no wrong.”
“Stay in line and you’ll get chosen.”
Well, she had done all of those things and still ended up here, the one place she had worked her whole life to avoid. Carrington had never been like the other children: she had never pushed the boundaries, never broken the rules, never even dirtied her dress or scraped her elbows. She had followed the law—God’s and her mother’s perfect law—and look what it yielded.
A deep pounding started in her chest and she realized that she wanted to know. She needed to know what it was like to think for herself.
Carrington jumped from bed and her roommate mumbled something in her sleep. Carrington pressed her lips together and stood perfectly still until she was sure the girl had not awakened, then moved to her closet. After dressing, she reached for her chip but thought better of it. She knew Larkin was way ahead of her, but hopefully she would be able to catch up before she left the building.
Quickly exiting her room, she walked to the front door and pulled it open. Larkin sat against the wall outside, her head rising with Carrington’s appearance. She smiled and stood.
“What are—?” Carrington started.
“I was hoping that with a little time you’d come around,” Larkin said. She reached out and Carrington took her hand. Now that she was out in the hallway, her nerves and reason were starting to get the best of her. She was thankful to have Larkin guiding her along.
“How do we get out of here?” Carrington asked.
Larkin flashed a sly smile and pulled Carrington forward.
The Lint Stacks hadn’t been remodeled since the Ruining. Carrington knew Larkin had trouble sleeping, and Larkin had confided in her that she periodically wandered the ancient building looking for ways to get around without being detected.
As they approached the end of the hall, Carrington noted that the wall had been covered with a thin steel panel that appeared impenetrable. But Larkin indicated a slight buckling in one end. When she pulled on it, the panel yielded just enough to reveal an old fire exit door.
The two girls struggled to push the rust-covered door open. Doing so quietly proved impossible. Finally, with a space wide enough for them to slip through one at a time, they found themselves in an old stairwell that ran from the top of the building down into the basement.
Carrington’s heart raced as Larkin pulled the steel unit back into place, disguising their escape. Larkin stepped to Carrington’s left and flicked a switch on the wall. Dim lights buzzed to life overhead, barely bright enough to illuminate the floor before them.
“I know it’s not a lot, but it helps. Follow me,” Larkin said. She moved down the stairs, flicking on lights as she went. The overhead lighting was ancient, like every step, handrail, and wall tile they encountered. As they placed their weight on each stair, Carrington feared the entire structure would crumble.
“We’re almost there,” Larkin said. “It’s just up ahead.”
Larkin jogged the rest of the distance and stood before a round opening in the wall. Carrington edged closer and saw that it was a small tunnel, maybe three feet tall and equally wide. A grate leaned against the wall beside it and had the same dimensions as the hole. Carrington touched the grate with her fingers.
Larkin explained, “That used to cover this hole. It took me weeks to get it off. The metal may be old, but it’s still strong.”
“You did all this just to get out of this place?”
“Freedom is important to me.”
Even in the dark, Carrington could see the excitement in Larkin’s eyes. She obviously believed freedom was a possibility. But doubt came hand in hand with worry to assault Carrington. She wanted good things for her friend, but she knew the truth would still be the same after they’d climbed back into their beds. They weren’t free; they were just dreaming.
“Through and out—hope you aren’t afraid of dark, tight spaces,” Larkin said.
Carrington followed her into the tunnel. As they crawled along, Carrington was certain that something moved over her fingers more than once. She shuddered at the thought of what lived in here and tried to keep as close to Larkin as she could manage.
The darkness lessened as they drew closer to the exit. It wasn’t long before Larkin was helping Carrington out into the night air and the two were standing far behind the Lint Stacks, staring up at the looming structures.
“Crazy, right?” Larkin said.
“I can’t believe that actually worked.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.”
Carrington couldn’t keep the smile off her face. The cool night air felt soothing against her skin, and she suddenly wanted to laugh, to run. It was an extraordinary feeling doing something that wasn’t expected of you, doing something simply because you wanted to.
“Now what?” Carrington asked. She was ready for more.
“Aaron usually speaks on the outskirts of town, much too far out to walk, so we have to hitch a ride,” Larkin said. She surveyed the land to their east and started off toward the forest that ran along the edge of the Potomac River. Carrington called after her but the girl just signaled over her shoulder for Carrington to follow.
Hesitantly—and only after checking in both directions twice—she moved after Larkin. She crouched low and tried to match her friend’s speed. The girl had short legs that were surprisingly quick. She moved with speed and accuracy through the high bushes and into the surrounding trees. Carrington was heaving pretty heavily when they came to a stop behind a large boulder.
Larkin poked her head out from the side and looked around. Carrington did the same and gasped at the sight of a CityWatch vehicle idly hovering in the middle of a clearing. She yanked her head back behind the rock and felt her pulse skyrocket. She pulled Larkin down beside her but the girl smiled at Carrington’s reaction.
“Don’t worry; that’s our ride.”
12
Larkin was smiling, but Carrington felt nauseous.
“That’s our ride?” she asked.
Larkin nodded and poked her head out once more. “Yep.”
Carrington tried to wrap her mind around what Larkin was suggesting. Of all the people in the city, the CityWatch were the most devoted to upholding the Authority law, even giving their lives to defend it. But here was one who apparently was not only going to see an outside rebel speak, he was escorting two escaped Lints along the way.
Larkin was still watching.
“What is it?” Carrington asked.
“Oh, nothing—just making sure he’s alone.”
Panic spiked through Carrington’s body. “Is there a chance he’s not?”
She shrugged. “Can’t ever be too careful.”
Carrington’s confidence in their ability to pull this off without getting caught and thrown in prison was shrinking.
“Looks like we’re all clear,” Larkin said. She stood, but Carrington stayed in her squatting position. Children shared tales of what getting caught by the Authority was like, and her mother had certainly scared her with enough stories that she never questioned the law. Now, as if someone had lifted the floodgates, those stories consumed her mind.
“Carrington,” Larkin said. She had plopped back down beside her and was cradling Carrington’s hand in hers. “I promise, we’re going to be all right. I trust this guy; he’s helped me before. It’s going to be okay.”
Carrington swallowed her fear and nodded. Larkin helped her stand, and the two girls moved out from their safe place.
The CityWatch member turned at the sound of a twig snapping beneath Carrington’s shoe. He smiled and she felt herself relax ever so slight
ly. The young man walked toward them, his cheesy grin expanding as he got closer. “Was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show,” he said.
“Carrington, this is Helms,” Larkin said.
Helms held out his hand, took Carrington’s when she responded in kind, and placed a goofy kiss on her knuckles. “M’lady,” he said.
The light in his eyes was bright enough to make the night around them feel like day and Carrington couldn’t help but smile. The rest of him was dark, from his black uniform to his chocolate skin. He wasn’t as large as most of the CityWatch guards—in fact, he was rather scrawny—but he still held her hand firmly and she considered herself safe with him.
“Stop touching her, Helms; it’s creepy,” Larkin said.
“Just trying to be a gentleman.”
Larkin smiled too and Carrington watched the two exchange a lingering glance.
“All aboard, then,” Helms said as he climbed up into the driver’s seat.
The vehicle—a sleek black machine that was shaped like a large egg with a tail and wings—hovered a few feet off the ground. It was identical to all the CityWatch authorized vehicles that traveled through the city. Carrington had seen plenty, but she’d never been inside one.
Larkin climbed up into the front seat next to Helms, then turned and gave Carrington a hand up.
Carrington situated herself comfortably in the back. The car’s interior was more spacious than it appeared and was covered in soft leather. The dashboard featured an instrument panel that looked like a computer. Helms punched the 3-D icons before him, flipped a small lever, and the car eased forward.
A wheel sat in front of Helms, but he didn’t touch it. The vehicle maneuvered on its own, weaving in and out of the trees as it headed toward their destination.
The Choosing Page 9
