Tuck nods. “I’ve mapped all the cameras on our lot. What you’ve got to realize is that over half of the campers are visitors who’ve only recently arrived in HQ. A fair portion of them are new guards. They’ll all be under suspicion. With nothing but time on his hands, Higgins chats with everyone. He’s like the friggin’ mayor over there. Anything caught on camera between the two of us would be like a nod or a casual greetin’, nothin’ that points to us bein’ collaborators.”
“Okay. One more question,” I ask, my gaze unwavering from his. “Or same question, different player. I’m thinking now about the surveillance cameras on Tamara. Are you sure Higgins’s diversion will keep J.D. and me from being spotted the moment we enter the room?”
“Am I sure?” He pauses for a moment, shakes his head. “There’s no way to be sure. But the surveillance control rooms are all short-staffed. Usually, they’ve got one tech watchin’ an entire bank of monitors connected to a specific section of the complex. You have to swivel around to see them all, so the tech is constantly in motion. I’m confident his eyes will be on Higgins, reportin’ every angle of that action to his supervisors. That tech is going to believe his visual commentary from the control room is critical to preventin’ a detonation that could bring the surface crashin’ down on top of us.”
I wrap my arms around myself and close my eyes, trying to process the plan from start to finish. Have we missed anything? What if there’s a critical detail that none of us is seeing? It’s definitely risky, but then we’ve always known there would be risk. We risk ourselves every day. In the end, the risks don’t matter. This is about Tamara. We can’t not try to save her.
“I’m afraid your friend Higgins is going to get hurt,” I whisper finally, adding a new thought to the dozen of others crowding my mind. “He doesn’t know Tamara or whether she’s worth risking his life.”
“He don’t see it that way, Kira. As far as he’s concerned, Tamara is unessential to the whole thing. This is about him givin’ himself up. He’s tired of lookin’ after himself. He’s tired of worryin’ whether he’ll find a ration of water each day. We’ve simply adjusted the timin’ so it fits his purposes and our own. He may get stunned—in fact, it’s probable he will—but the effect will be temporary. If it makes you feel better, I gave him credits for tonight, so he can eat a good meal.”
“His last meal?”
“I hope not. But I’m okay with it if he is.”
The three of us exchange somber looks, evaluating the scope of the plan and what it will demand of each of us. Finally, with a small sigh of acceptance, I go fetch the explosives hidden in a small cubby behind the wall. I bring the package to Tuck.
“You understand I won’t be able to visit you guys for a while,” he says, stuffing the bundle into his pack. “Once Tam disappears, all the guards will be monitored. There’s no tellin’ how long that will last. The three of you are gonna have to live on what food you’ve got stashed or can steal until things cool down and I can resume my visits.”
“Don’t worry about us,” says J.D. “We’ll be fine.”
Tuck walks to the door, stops, and turns with his hand on the knob. He looks over at us. “If it comes down to Tamara or me, you get Tam out, understood?”
I say nothing, but after a moment, J.D. nods.
“Get a good night’s sleep,” Tuck says, and then he slips out the door, shutting it gently behind him.
12
J.D. and I are unrecognizable in wigs and prosthetics as we stroll into the Administration Center the next morning, blending with staff and day workers reporting for their shifts. Hidden beneath our clothes, we have new outfits and hairpieces we can switch into once we rescue Tamara.
We have the floor plan of the Center thoroughly memorized, so with one mind, J.D. and I turn for the corridor where Tuck should be standing guard. Tuck told us the security force was short-staffed, but it seems to us like every other door has a pair of guards protecting it.
“Are all these guards just for council member protection?” I whisper.
“It looks like it,” he answers. “Don’t catch anyone’s eye. Try to blend.”
Spotting Tuck, we find a place to wait and do our best to be invisible. It’s tricky trying to look like we belong here since both of us feel keenly that we don’t. Our comfort zone is outside, surrounded by road and wasteland, not inside a concrete building packed with people. While we wait, I play with my mouthpiece, using my tongue to click it back and forth in my mouth. It’s uncomfortable, but it changes the shape of my jaw. I cross my fingers that the thing is actually helping me to evade facial recognition.
I jump when a siren blasts through the building and corridor lights begin to flash. Guard after guard along the corridor adjusts a headset to receive instructions. We step back as the hallway empties in a mad press of staff and security. As soon as it’s clear, we dash to the doorway Tuck and his partner have abandoned. J.D. positions his body to shield me from the cameras and stands at alert, his eyes scanning the area, while I scrutinize the door frame. Spying a small piece of debris stuck to the wall, I carefully peel it off and glance to see what’s there. Written in tiny digits are eleven numbers.
“Got it!”
I lick the evidence off my fingertip and punch in the code. Hearing the door click open, Tamara turns to see who is entering. She looks at me quizzically. Remembering that I’m in disguise, I approach cautiously. “It’s Kira,” I whisper. “We’re getting you out.”
“What? No. Wait.” Tamara steps back. Aware of the cameras pointed in our direction, I grab her arm and tug her toward the doorway.
“Come with me, quickly!” I hiss.
J.D. steps to the doorway and motions us forward, his expression urgent. Tamara allows herself to be hustled out of the room. I keep hold of her arm, hurrying beside her as we head down the corridor and outside the Center. Following Tuck’s plan, we make our way to the protected alleyway.
As soon as we’re in a blind spot, out of sight of the cameras, I pull out the items I’ve hidden for Tamara and toss them to her. “Here. Put this on.”
Behind me, I can hear J.D. stripping off his first disguise and preparing to switch outfits. I send him a quick glance, then notice that Tamara isn’t moving.
“Hey!” I snap my fingers in her face. Is it possible Thorne has drugged her? “This is a rescue, in case you haven’t noticed. Change into your disguise!”
I watch, disbelieving, as she tosses aside the bundle and grabs me by the shoulders. Her eyes are panicked. Almost as an afterthought, I observe how very well she looks. Tuck was right. Tamara has never looked healthier, never looked prettier.
“The two of you have to get out of here now,” she says. “I’m chipped, Kira. Thorne’s tracking device lets him know where I am every minute. No matter what diversion you’ve created with those sirens, I promise you Thorne already has a team on their way here to investigate why I’m not in my room. You have to leave without me.”
“No, no, no,” I mutter. “Where is it, Tamara? We’ll cut it out. J.D., I need your knife.”
“There’s no time,” she insists. “You’ve got to go—NOW!”
“She’s right,” J.D. says, coming up beside me. “We’ll have to find another way.”
I want to scream in frustration. Desperate, I gaze into the eyes of my friend and see determination there. Damn Thorne! I give Tamara a hard hug. I want to say things. I want to tell her that she’s been missed, that not a day has gone by that I have not worried about her. I want her to know how sorry we are not to be able to take her with us. I try to say it all with a hug and perhaps Tamara hears it, because she hugs me back as tightly, then gently extracts herself from my grip. Grim, I turn away as J.D. clasps Tamara’s shoulder in parting and turns to me.
“Kira, we should split up. Find another place to switch your disguise, then meet me back at the hideout.”
Giving him a short nod, I take off at a sprint toward the entrance to the alley. As I near the end, I s
ee Thorne skid around the corner, accompanied by armed guards. I don’t hesitate. I launch myself at him with all the pent-up fury of the past weeks and deliver a solid kick to his midsection. My training with J.D. and Tuck has paid off. I’m faster, stronger, and able to land two punches to his face and another to his kidney before the guards pull me off him.
Thorne straightens with a grimace and wipes blood from his lip. “I see you’ve been practicing,” he says drily.
I struggle with the guards, kicking back with my legs until one of the men yanks my arm behind me with a hard twist and forces me to my knees. Wrenching my head up, I see that both J.D. and Tamara have been cornered by guards with stunners drawn. Panting for air and flooded with adrenaline, I turn my wrath on Thorne.
“Let us go, Thorne. I’ve already told you, I won’t work for you. Don’t think for a minute that—”
“Actually, I believe you said you would work for me, and then you reneged on your promise.”
“And you said you had my best interests at heart,” I gasp. “I guess we both lied.”
He smiles faintly. Walking over, he yanks the dark wig I’m wearing. Hair falls damply around my face, and I huff out a breath to move a loose red strand from my eyes.
“That’s better. I barely recognized you.”
I glare at him with every bit of the hate showing in my eyes. He gazes back without expression. After a moment, he turns to the guards. “Gentlemen, please escort our prisoners back to the Admin Center and take them to Miss Cooper’s suites. I want them cleaned up and brought to me. Destroy those ridiculous mouthpieces they’re wearing and ditch the clothes. Don’t forget to grab the other one, the guard.”
My eyes flick to meet J.D.’s. Thorne acknowledges our exchange with a slight lift of his brow. “Seriously, Kira, you give me no credit. We’ve known about your friend—Tuck, is it?—since the moment he arrived.”
“So you were just waiting for us to make our move.”
“Actually, we had to force your hand a bit. You were being so poky about your rescue attempt, and I have another matter demanding my attention.” He frowns. “I cannot stand that ridiculous thing you’re wearing in your mouth. We’ll chat further once you’re presentable.” With a sharp gesture to the guards, we’re led away.
As the three of us are marched into the Administration Center, HQ residents pause what they’re doing to watch silently. I keep my face forward, but my eyes scan the unfamiliar faces looking for anyone or anything that might help us out of our current predicament. If they recognize me or J.D. from our wanted posters on the Nets, it doesn’t show in their expressions.
After being led down two levels of stairs, I’m separated from my friends and escorted into a private room. A tall, austere-looking woman approaches.
“You must be Kira. You may address me as Miss Cooper. I want you to remove your garments and the device in your mouth. Enter this basin and submerge yourself.”
I peer into a round pool built into the floor, filled with a green fluid. I glance at the lady. I glance at the pool. “What does it do?”
“It sanitizes you from head-to-toe. All you need to do is keep your eyes closed, dunk yourself fully, then step out. If you have any open cuts, it may sting a little. However, I assure you this solution is not harmful but entirely for your benefit.”
With a tiny shrug, I pull off my clothes, carefully extract the mouthpiece, and step into the pool. The fluid is thicker than water, and cool. It tingles. And where I have small scrapes or bruises, it does sting, but not more than I can stand. I wade out a bit, and then, holding my breath, I squeeze my eyes shut and sink beneath the surface. I keep my eyes closed as I enjoy the cool tingle of the solution against my skin. When I stand and take a breath, I see Miss Cooper holding out a piece of cloth. I wipe my eyes and nose and exit the pool.
“If you will follow me, I will show you where you can comb your hair and don clean clothes. Then you may join your friends for a meal.”
She is true to her word. I’m given a comb and mirror, then offered a pair of soft gray trousers and matching tunic. Once I’m dressed, another door opens, and I see J.D., Tamara, and Tuck seated at a table. I join them.
Tuck looks sheepish. Tamara looks resigned. J.D. is watching me closely, perhaps to gauge my reaction to all of this. I’m unsure what my reaction is. I haven’t had time to process anything. It’s easier not to think about it too closely. We are caught, and it’s doubtful getting away from Thorne at HQ will be as easy as getting away from him at Slag—and that was not easy at all.
“Let’s wait and see, shall we?” I say softly, in response to his unspoken question.
We dine on dry, toasted cicadas, which I know to be rich with protein, vitamins, and amino acids. That’s followed by a salad including red, green, and brown seaweeds. A midday ration of water is provided to each of us. Feeling full and nourished, I’m strangely calm as the guard arrives to take us to Thorne’s office.
He’s working at his desk when we enter the room. Absently, he motions us to four chairs. The guards retreat to the back of the room, keeping a watchful eye on our group. I keep a watchful eye on Thorne. Has he changed since I saw him last? There may be a touch more gray in his mustache, a few additional lines around the eyes. He presses a button and speaks into a receiver. “I require three chip implants in my office.” He shoots me a look. “We’re going to get a bit of old business out of the way.”
Moments later, a man in a lab coat enters the room with a small firing device. Thorne nods to a guard, who walks over to stand in front of me. The guard looks me in the eye but makes no move to touch me or apply duress. His presence simply lets me know that he’s there to enforce whatever is coming next.
“Please lower the sleeve from your left shoulder,” says the lab tech, approaching with the firing device. Narrowing my eyes, I glance over at my friends.
“It only hurts for a second,” Tamara says in a subdued voice.
Reluctantly, I push the tunic off my left shoulder. The lab tech rubs an antiseptic solution onto my upper arm, applies the firing device to my skin, and presses the trigger. As the chip enters my arm, I feel a sharp pinching sensation. A small bandage is applied to the insertion wound, and then I’m allowed to readjust my tunic. Tuck and J.D. receive their chips next.
Finishing with his task, the lab tech nods to Thorne and leaves the room. The guard returns to his post by the door.
“Better late than never,” Thorne says softly.
“Better never,” I respond in the same tone.
He smiles, confident now that he has what he wants. “You never back down, Kira, and a part of me appreciates your spirit. But know this. As of this minute, you work for me. How hard or how easy that becomes will depend entirely upon your level of cooperation. I think you can tell simply by looking at your friend Tamara that being under my protection does not have to be onerous.” He’s quiet for a moment, letting us process his words. Tamara squirms under the scrutiny, shooting Thorne a black look. But he’s right. It’s clear to all of us that Tamara has never looked healthier, more well-fed, more rested.
Thorne turns his attention to Tuck.
“You seem like a bright young man, so I have to ask. Did you seriously think you were randomly assigned to guard Tamara’s room? Has life taught you that you’re really that lucky?”
Tuck says nothing, but the pink flush making its way up his neck speaks volumes.
“For the record, let me clarify what has taken place here,” Thorne continues briskly. “We knew the minute Tuck arrived in HQ that he would be part of your rescue attempt on Tamara. If you’d thought about it carefully, you would have realized the Territory collected video footage of J.D. and Tuck together from your visit to Bio-4 last year. In addition, the two of you are known associates from Gamma Territory and have overlapping detention records. Consequently, alerts were activated as soon as Tuck’s fingerprint was registered at the visitor’s center. After that, we did everything we could to make it as easy as poss
ible for you to reach Tamara, short of delivering her to you ourselves.” Thorne pauses, his gaze thoughtful as it rests on me and J.D. “The one thing we do not know is how or when the two of you entered HQ.” He touches his tablet and opens a document. “We’re aware that after Tuck received his guard assignment, he began purchasing copious quantities of food with his credits.” He raises one supercilious brow. “I assume the kelp buns were for the two of you?”
“If you knew we were here,” I ask, “why make us go through the charade of a rescue attempt? Why not follow Tuck and apprehend us during one of his food deliveries?”
“We considered it. But we weren’t sure how many people might be collaborating with you. There could be unknown associates within HQ or placed at other locations. Originally, we planned to let you succeed in taking Tamara and simply watch what you did next. But something came up, an urgent situation that requires your abilities, Kira. I was running out of time. So we planted the story that Tamara was going to be moved and used Higgins as a pawn to expedite action. We hoped that would flush out any remaining members of your little band.”
“As you can see,” I snap, “it’s just us.”
“Not exactly a force to be reckoned with, are you?”
Perhaps he senses that I’m close to launching myself across the desk at him and that J.D. would no doubt be next. Observing the hot flash in my eyes, Thorne appears to consider, then refrains from uttering additional words that would inflame us.
Tuck leans toward me, his whisper clearly audible. “Can’t you call up a tidal wave or somethin’ to shut this guy up?”
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that,” I say, never taking my eyes from Thorne’s. I can see he’s remembering what I was able to do the last time we met. I’d collapsed a building—with all of us in it—into a giant sinkhole. It wasn’t a tidal wave, but it had been big enough and dramatic enough to injure Thorne and allow me and J.D. enough time to escape. I know we won’t be granted such an opportunity twice.
The Last Tree Page 8
