by Adam Bender
“No, at least not right away,” grumbled her brother. “This house is equipped with a device that interferes with wireless spectrum used by the Guard.”
She nodded, but her expression was blank.
“It’s a security measure,” Shaan explained. “It’s likely that this has neutralized whatever chip they put inside Seven’s head.”
She shook her head. “Then how did they find the house?”
He grimaced. “The range of interference is limited. If they started tracking Seven before he arrived, they’d know where he was when he dropped off the grid.”
Talia looked more puzzled than ever before. “Then what’s even the point of having an interference what-cha-ma-call-it?”
Danny shushed them. He was wide-eyed and pointing at the screen.
Seven couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Eve had a gun aimed on her unwitting partner’s neck.
Eve looked over her pistol at Rodriguez, who was currently conducting a futile search under the king-size bed in the master bedroom. She asked him to do it and he was stupid enough to follow. Now all she had to do was act.
“I’m not seeing anything,” he said. “I mean, unless you care about a stray tissue.”
She smiled. The rookie was actually kind of endearing once you got to know him. “They might be notes,” she suggested. “See if there’s any writing on them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Eve pulled the trigger. Her partner moaned slightly, then his arms and legs gave out and he fell into a useless pile on the floor. She flipped the gun around and tossed it lightly into the hallway. With a sigh, she sat on the bed and waited for the rebels.
Even with three Heretics circling like hungry sharks, Eve couldn’t help but smile. Finally, she had caught up with Jon and would have another chance to convince him to come back and leave the Seven persona behind.
It would, of course, be difficult to explain any of this to the Headmaster. Eve had always considered herself a good Patriot, and others seemed to think so, too. That’s why she’d risen so high in the Guard’s ranks, higher than any woman before her. It was true she didn’t like what the president was planning–or at least seemed to be planning. But now, in retrospect, attacking her partner seemed a little…well…irrational. Well, she’d worry about all that later.
“Hey bitch, pay attention!”
Eve looked up at the tall brunette smoking a cigarette. She recognized her from the Guard’s files as Ana Ivanova. The woman had popped up on the periphery of a number of cases, but had for years managed to keep her profile low enough to keep off the Watched list. Jon’s mission changed all that. When he infiltrated the Underground, the once secret Heretic’s voice began streaming live to Eve’s tablet.
Behind Ana, a skinny man with slicked-back hair slumped lackadaisically against the door. He tapped a revolver against his thighs and yawned. Eve recognized him from the supermarket rags as playboy Danny Young. She wasn’t entirely surprised to learn he was working with the Heretics. After all, his late father was behind the entire Underground operation. It would have been more shocking to learn he had no involvement.
“Where’s Seven?” Eve asked.
“None of your business,” Ana snapped. She wrenched Eve’s arms behind her back and latched on a pair of handcuffs.
The Elite Guard glanced down with a sigh at Shaan, who until recently she thought was dead. Even though she’d seen his photo back in Loganville, part of her still hadn’t believed he was alive. But here he was, on his knees trying to pull Rodriguez out from under the bed. Eve shifted a few inches down the mattress to give him more space.
“That’s my partner, Rodriguez,” said Eve. “He’s just a dumb rookie, but you should probably find a way to keep him quiet.”
He looked pretty stupid face down on the carpet, thought Eve. But then again, he always looked pretty stupid. Shaan touched the rookie’s neck, presumably to check for a pulse.
“He’s alive,” he said at last.
“We were both armed with tranqs,” explained Eve. “This isn’t a Jackson Danger flick–we were never planning to kill anyone.”
Shaan looked annoyed. “No, you were just going to arrest us so that we could be killed on live television,” returned Shaan. His baritone voice was laced with disgust. “How merciful.”
Eve shrugged. “Look, would someone just tell me where Seven is? I’ve got to speak with him.”
“Go to Hell,” shot Ana. The metal cuffs tightened suddenly and Eve yelped in protest.
“Now, girls, let’s play nice,” laughed Danny, who was apparently enjoying the situation. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is–”
“Daniel Alexander Young, Jr.,” Eve interrupted. “I already know all of you. The mean girl with glasses is Ana Ivanova, and the guy on the floor with a penchant for faking his own death is Shaan…Williams, is it now?”
Shaan gaped in horror, while Ana simply maintained her stink-eye.
“That’s an amusing parlor trick,” said Young with a roguish smile. “We’re told you are Agent Eve Parker of the Elite Guard.”
He stretched out his hand, inviting a hand shake.
Eve scowled. “I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Young, but to be frank I’m a little tied up right now.”
Danny erupted with laughter. “Oh, right, the handcuffs! Maybe later, then, assuming we don’t kill you first. Kidding!”
Seven pushed up onto the hood of the purple minivan and spit at the driveway. One end of the saliva lingered in his mouth. He shook his head to free it and groaned in self-disgust.
The back door to the house opened, but Seven didn’t turn to face the newcomer. “Go away,” he grumbled.
“What are you doing out here?” demanded Talia. “They might need you inside.”
“They might need you, too.”
She approached slowly and turned her head sideways to match Seven’s orientation. “No, I’m useless. The only thing I know how to do is run, and you’ve probably noticed I’m not even very good at that.”
“Join the club.” He leaned back on his palms and looked up at the trees. Talia found a small spot to sit next to him.
“You know, I got my name out here somewhere,” said Seven.
Talia furrowed her brow quizzically. “What, the forest?”
He nodded. “My first memory is waking up among all these trees, looking up at the sun. I didn’t know where I was or why I was there. Hell, I didn’t even know who I was. But just when I was about to give up, I saw a sign.”
Talia snorted. “What, you mean, like from God?”
“Nah, it was graffiti. The number seven carved on a tree. I remember it so vividly because up to then I could have been anywhere. I could have been hundreds of miles from civilization. The carving gave me hope because only a punk kid would do that kind of thing. And punk kids don’t go hiking very far into a forest.”
Talia laughed. “So, what, you saw this number on a tree and thought to yourself, ‘Hey, that’s pretty neat! That’s what I’m going to call myself from now on.’”
He smiled. “Not exactly. I didn’t actually think of it again until this old man asked me my name. I didn’t know what to tell him, and I didn’t want to sound like a crazy person, so I chose the first thing that popped into my head.”
She blinked. “You didn’t want to sound like a crazy person, so you named yourself Seven? Couldn’t you have said, I don’t know, ‘Jake?’ Or ‘Scott?’”
He shrugged.
“I know, how about ‘Steven?’ That’s close to Seven and actually sounds normal! We can start calling you that now, if you like.”
Seven shook his head no. “I was going to pick a name like that later, but I guess Seven grew on me. It at least had some meaning. Anyway, it wasn’t like I could just say to people, ‘Oh hey, by the way, remember when I said my name was Seven? Yeah, I just had some amnesia for a while and forgot there was a “T” in my name.’”
They laughed together. A gust of wind blew through their ha
ir and a few yellow-green leaves fell from above. Talia tried to snatch one but missed.
“My real name is Jonathan,” he confessed. “Jonathan Wyle. But he was someone else, someone I never want to be again.”
She put her hand gently on his. “Hey, I’m sorry, by the way,” she said.
“For what?”
“Well, you know, the whole thing where my brother and I knocked you out and brought you here against your will. It was all kind of a last-minute decision, and mostly Shaan’s.”
He looked at her. “Well, I probably wouldn’t have gone if you’d asked nicely. I guess you did what–”
“Wait a minute!” interrupted Talia, eyes lighting up. “I get it now! This Eve…this is the girl you told me ‘it’s complicated’ with, isn’t it? Back in the bar!”
Seven’s mouth opened to speak but produced no sound.
“It is! It is the girl!” she exclaimed. “I guess being in love with an Elite would be compli–”
“I’m not in love with her!” he yelped. “Jon Wyle was in love with her! He was engaged to her. She doesn’t understand we’re not the same.”
“Hey boy, calm down, calm down,” she purred. “Anyway, I’m sure once she gets to know the new you, she won’t want anything to do with you.”
His jaw dropped. “You are such a…a…I can’t think of a nice word.”
She beamed. “Back at ‘cha. Now, what say we go inside and see what the ex wants, hmm?”
“Tell me where he is!” demanded Eve. She was fuming.
Jon stepped into the room and Eve’s heart leapt. A young woman Eve recognized from surveillance footage as Talia ap-peared behind him and laid a hand gently on his back.
Danny glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but kept his gun pointed squarely at Eve’s head. “Everything all right, dude?”
The man at the door nodded. “What does she want?” The voice was cold and detached.
“Seven,” Eve acknowledged sadly. “I was sent here to stop you from spreading information about your mission.”
“Too late,” he said. “The Underground knows everything.”
“It doesn’t matter. That’s why I was sent here, but I don’t care about that anymore,” she said, fighting back tears. “I’m really here because…because I don’t think I can support the president and the Headmaster anymore.”
The Heretics exchanged looks. Finally, Ana asked, “Why?”
“Have you heard about Patriot ID?”
“I meant, why should we believe you?” Ana growled.
“Let her talk,” said Shaan, turning to Eve with interest. “Patriot ID was just on the news–an identification system without cards, right? Not exactly the scariest thing the Guard has ever come up with. What do you know about it?”
Eve smirked. “I have strong reason to believe Patriot ID is more than just identification. As Seven may have told you, we installed a chip in his head that records audio and sends it wirelessly to the Guard. I think they’re going to do that to the entire country.”
Seven looked sick. “Did you know–did I know–they might do this?”
She sighed. “We thought at most they’d try it on people on the Watched list. But now it seems President Drake wants to be able to watch everybody.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Seven. “He’s just going to throw the entire country in with the Watched?”
“Yes and no. The Watched–the people we had a reason to suspect–are being rounded up and arrested.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” said Talia, flagging down the conversation with her hands. “Didn’t you people block Seven’s memory, too? Are they going to do that to everyone?”
Eve shook her head. “I don’t know…probably not. Not sure what the point would be.”
Shaan raised his eyebrows. “Knowing the Guard, they’d probably at least leave the capability in the chip–just in case someone’s mind needed a factory reset.”
Seven broke in impatiently. “Why are you telling us this? What’s your game?”
“No game. I know what you all think of the Guard, but we’re not all mindless drones. Personally, I don’t believe it’s right to watch someone unless and until there’s good reason. A long time ago, I made the mistake of prejudging a good man to be a Heretic. Patriot ID does the same thing, but for the entire country. There’s no way I can support that.”
Ana rubbed her temples. “Do you have any proof that the Guard is mass producing these chips? Anything we can use to expose Drake?”
“Nothing solid. But I can help you find it.”
The floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room of Danny Young’s vacation home became black mirrors. Seven edged closer to the glass and cupped his hands around his eyes to see dark branches bounce to the rhythm of the wind. Suddenly the forest ignited in a flash of orange. For that split second, he could see the blue ocean dotted with gunmetal boats. Then darkness returned and he could see only his reflection.
A moment later he heard thunder but knew it didn’t come from nature.
Talia strolled into the room grumbling about how dull she found her brother. She was holding two glasses of mysterious blue liquid. “You should never have let Shaan take a look at your dumb memory stick. What a bore.”
For the first time since they met, Talia had let down her hair. It fell black, straight, and damp onto a white baby tee.
“You look refreshed,” he commented.
Talia beamed. “You’ve got to try the shower here. It’s brilliant.”
“When you threw me in the trunk, did you remember to throw a towel and a change of clothes on top?”
She cackled. “Steal some shirts from Danny. Rich guy like him probably won’t even notice.”
“Hard day?” asked Seven, indicating the liquor glasses.
Talia glanced down at her hands. “Oh! Sorry, one’s for you if you want it.”
“What is it?”
“Something I learned at college. Try it. I’d say it’s just what the doctor ordered given your ex is in the house.”
Seven accepted the drink. “You’ve got me there.”
She pointed to the sofa. “Guitar?” she asked.
The light cherry wood instrument was taking up two-and-a-half out of three seat cushions. “Sorry,” he gasped, hustling to remove the obstruction. “Do you want to sit?”
“Don’t put it away!” she cried. “Do you play?”
He stopped short. “I don’t know. I, uh, I can’t remember.”
“I used to play a little,” she said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
He looked at the guitar like it was some kind of alien squash. “I…uh…okay,” he stuttered.
Seven took a swig of his aqua-colored drink and found that it tasted almost exactly like a sweet and sour candy. He wondered how much alcohol was in it. He couldn’t taste anything, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. With some hesitation he set the glass down on the coffee table and picked up the guitar. Talia fell into the spot next to him on the sofa and eyed the instrument curiously.
Seven pulled up to the edge of the cushion and curved his left hand carefully around the neck. Three fingers fell naturally into place and he stroked it gently.
The girl gasped. “A-minor, the saddest of all chords. Like, you really do have issues, don’t you?”
Seven grinned stupidly and plucked a tune that sounded a little bit country. “Better?”
She laughed. “No!”
Eve’s ears perked up as a familiar tune leaked through an air vent into the basement, filling the prison with life. She stared at the source and wondered.
A low groan interrupted her thoughts. Eve looked down at the crumpled body of her partner.
“What happened?” managed Rodriguez.
She didn’t respond. He’d been asleep for hours, and yet Eve still hadn’t quite worked out what to tell him.
Rodriguez tried to pick himself up from the floor to stand, but only got as far as sitting up. “Where are we?”
/> She sighed. “The basement. They got the jump on us and threw us down here.”
He nodded. “Any way out of here?”
Eve opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted abruptly as the door swung wide. Ana stepped into the room with her arms crossed.
“Eve,” she said calmly. “We need to talk to you upstairs.”
Rodriguez looked at his partner in confusion.
Eve gritted her teeth. She couldn’t let him know what she was planning. Think, Eve, think!
“Well? Is that okay?” Ana sneered.
“Whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of my partner!” she called back.
Ana shook her head. “To be honest, we don’t really care where we speak, but it’s gonna have to be with you alone. So I guess that leaves you with two options: either we have a nice, peaceful chat upstairs…” She drew her pistol and pointed it at Rodriguez. “…or we stay here after I shoot your partner in the head.”
Eve looked at the gun, and then her partner. “Probably best if I do what she wants,” she told him.
Seven found himself utterly amazed at his ability on the guitar. Playing beautiful music wasn’t really the kind of thing one thought to try right away when they woke up with amnesia. But then again, he had spent some time around musicians after waking up as Seven, so why hadn’t he tried this before?
Boredom and curiosity led him to the wooden instrument. The former Elite had come upon it while wandering about the mansion, torturing himself about what he would say to Eve the next time he saw her. The guitar was leaning against the inside of a coat closet. Seven thought it looked a bit lonesome, so he took it out and carried the new friend into the living room.
He couldn’t say whether he intended to play it. But pretty girls had a way of getting men to agree to things they weren’t confident about in the least. This time luck had been on his side. But there was an unfortunate side effect, he realized. The warm tones reminded Seven of his first real friend since the rebirth.
