They took the stairs up to the second floor of the apartment building. At this hour, the halls were empty and quiet, so they made their way down to number 217 without incident. Tripp rapped his knuckles against the door twice. Grant answered and ushered them inside, glancing down the hall before shutting the door behind them. He twisted the wedding band on his finger and looked at them with worried eyes. “We have a problem.”
Tripp frowned. “What is it?”
Natalie exited a room down the hall and came to stand beside her husband. Her mouth formed a thin line and her expression held the same resilience Zira had seen the first time they’d met, but the way she clutched Grant’s hand belied her fear. “They found out,” she said, placing one hand over her stomach. “The Project—they know about the baby.”
If nothing went wrong in the next four months, this would be the couple’s third child. Their first had died shortly after birth due to complications with the pregnancy. The second had perished in a house fire at the age of three. That had been eight years ago. Neither of them had wanted or planned on having more children, but by some accident, Natalie was pregnant again. By law, she should have had an abortion immediately. She hadn’t. Instead, the couple had applied for a permit to have a third child, which unit C had denied. So the Steeles had decided to run, and now Tripp and Zira were here to help them get to the rebel base safely.
“What happened?” Tripp asked.
“We went to get our rations yesterday,” said Natalie. “Same as always.”
“We had to,” Grant said. “We both had to.”
Tripp nodded his understanding. Except in extreme circumstances, the Project required that citizens show up at the distribution center to pick up their weekly allotment of food and ration coupons in person. They wouldn’t release one person’s supplies to another, not even family members, and like most people in America, Grant and Natalie depended on those rations to survive from one day to the next.
Zira glanced at Natalie’s stomach again. She’d already been showing the first time they met, but now, it was even more pronounced. Any astute unit C officer could have noticed. “They saw you,” she said.
Natalie nodded. “I was wearing one of Grant’s baggy sweaters. We didn’t think anyone would notice. But they did, and they pulled me aside and forced me to give a urine sample right then and there.” She glanced nervously between Tripp and Zira. “I just did what they asked. We didn’t know what else to do.”
Tripp smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s all right. We still have some time.”
“No, we don’t,” said Grant. “They gave her an appointment. She’s supposed to show up at the clinic tomorrow morning.”
Tripp kept the smile, but it seemed plastered on now. The Steeles watched him, two bright pairs of eyes in faces lined with a lifetime of worry and fear, still clinging to their last glimmer of hope. They’d already lost two children. Losing a third—even one that hadn’t been born yet—would devastate them. “Why don’t you two go sit down for a few minutes?” Tripp said at last. The hope in their eyes seemed to dim a little as they walked away.
“What now?” Zira whispered once the Steeles were out of earshot.
Tripp ran a hand over his head and sighed. “I don’t know. If they don’t show up for that appointment tomorrow, the Project will come looking for them immediately. That doesn’t give us nearly enough time. It’s too dangerous.”
“What if she just goes to the appointment?” Zira said. Tripp glared at her, and she immediately wished she hadn’t said it, but she tried to explain herself anyway. “I know it’s not what they wanted, but at least that way, they still have a chance to get away from here. We could take them tomorrow night.”
Tripp shook his head. “I’m going to forgive you for saying that because I don’t think you have any idea how cruel it was. No. They are not going to that appointment tomorrow.”
Zira shrugged. He was right, but she had little patience for the Steeles and their problems, which were arguably a result of their own irresponsibility. It had been downright idiotic of them to think they could bring a third child into this world without the Project knowing. And yes, the pregnancy had been unintentional; that happened sometimes. But Natalie should have had an abortion long before it got this far, and she certainly should have avoided going to the distribution center the day before she and Grant left the region to join the rebels. Now they were putting not only themselves at risk, but Zira and Tripp as well. “Do you have any better ideas?” Zira asked.
Tripp shook his head. “We’ll think of something.”
“You’d better think fast. We don’t have much time.”
“That’s a really constructive comment, kid. Thanks.”
“Sorry.” She glanced into the living room behind Tripp. Grant and Natalie were sitting on the couch watching the exchange, but they both turned away when they caught Zira looking at them. She sighed and turned back to Tripp. “I might have an idea, but you’re going to hate it.”
“As much as I hated your last idea?”
“Probably not.”
“Good. Then what is it?”
“I have a friend in unit C.” The dismissal on Tripp’s face was immediate, but she held up a hand before he could protest. “She’s trustworthy. She works in population control, and she’s told me before that she doesn’t like the way the Project deals with third and fourth children.”
“Well that’s real neato, kid, but I don’t think bringing in someone from population control is a great way to deal with this situation.”
“Of course it’s not, but we’re out of options.”
“What do you think she’s going to be able to do, anyway?”
“I don’t know,” said Zira. “Maybe she can change the appointment time or erase any record of Natalie’s pregnancy from their system. At the very least, she could try to buy us a little more time. It’s better than nothing.”
Tripp stuck his hands in his pockets and frowned. “Tell me more about your friend.”
“Her name is Aubreigh. We grew up together. I know her better than anyone, and I’m sure she’d be willing to help with this.”
“You know that? You can guarantee it?” He sounded skeptical, and Zira knew he didn’t believe in absolutes. Nothing was guaranteed.
“Look, I know what’s at stake here. If I’m wrong, we all get caught and we all die. But if we don’t do something, the Steeles will either lose their baby or the Project will come looking for them, and there’s a good chance we could all be killed that way, too. We can trust Aubreigh.”
Tripp studied her face for a few moments, then nodded. “All right. I guess you’ve earned a little trust after everything we’ve been through together. But we do this my way.”
“Fine.”
“We’re not going to contact her directly. It’s too risky if she decides to turn us in to Ryku.”
“She won’t.”
“She might. We’ll go through Seth.” Seth was the only member of the rebellion who knew Zira was working with Tripp, and the only person in the Project besides Jared who knew she was alive. Zira had been opposed to telling him at first, but Tripp had convinced her it was only fair, considering the risks he had taken to help Zira escape. Leaving him the dark to wonder and worry about whether Jared or Ryku had found out he’d helped her would have been unnecessarily cruel.
“From your perspective, doesn’t that put him at risk?” Zira asked. Aubreigh would never turn Seth in, either, but she was trying to put herself in Tripp’s shoes.
“We’ll give him a choice. If he thinks Aubreigh can be trusted and that this is worth a shot, he’ll ask for her help. If he doesn’t want to risk it, we’ll have to come up with something else.”
Zira nodded. Seth’s willingness to confide in Aubreigh shouldn’t be an issue. The two of them had been friendly at one time and possibly were again now that Zira wasn’t around to stir up conflict; she and Seth had never been on the best of terms. Even if he wasn’t open to the id
ea at first, he could easily be persuaded that Aubreigh was trustworthy. “Ask him,” she said.
Tripp walked into the living room and sat in a chair opposite the Steeles, then pulled the computer out of his backpack and turned it on. Zira stood beside him. “Is everything all right?” Natalie asked.
“We’re still working on it,” said Tripp, “but we might have a way to get you out of here tonight without the Project finding out you’re gone. No promises yet.”
Grant and Natalie looked at Zira. She gave them a small smile, and hope brightened their expressions just a little once more. Tripp began typing a message to Seth while Zira read it over his shoulder.
Seth,
We have a problem with our transport. One of them is five months pregnant with a third child and unit C found out about it. She’s supposed to go to the clinic for an abortion tomorrow. We have a possible solution but we’re going to need you to deliver a message. Zira thinks one of her old friends from unit C might be able to help, if you’re willing to talk to her. Her name is Aubrey. It’s urgent, but I understand the risk I’m asking you to take. Don’t feel obligated to do this unless you’re confident she can be trusted.
Zira bent down to correct the spelling of Aubreigh’s name, then nodded. Tripp sent the message, and Seth’s reply came back in less than a minute.
I know Aubreigh. If Zira says she can be trusted, that’s good enough for me. What should I tell her?
Tripp typed up a quick response.
Don’t mention me or Zira or the rebellion. Just tell her there’s a family that could use her help. She doesn’t need to know any more than that. Ask her if there’s any way she can get rid of all records related to the pregnancy or at least push the appointment back a few weeks. The woman’s name is Natalie Steele.
He stopped typing to ask Natalie for her identification number, then added it to the end of the message before sending.
“Is this going to work?” Grant asked, clutching Natalie’s hand.
Tripp didn’t say anything. “It will work,” Zira assured them all.
Seth’s response blinked onto the display. I’ll see what I can do. Stand by.
CHAPTER THREE
Aubreigh had just shut out the lights and was about to climb into bed for the night when there was a knock at her door. She stood there for a few seconds, debating whether or not to open it. It had been a long and emotionally exhausting day, and she wasn’t in the mood for company. Maybe if she waited long enough, the person would go away.
They knocked again. Aubreigh sighed. It was late; whatever the visitor wanted, it must be important. She flicked the lights back on and composed the most cheerful expression she could manage before opening the door. She wasn’t sure who she’d been expecting to see there, but it definitely wasn’t Seth. He shuffled his feet and offered her an apologetic look. “Hi, Aubreigh. I’m sorry to just drop by like this, but I need to talk to you.”
She didn’t respond for a few moments, trying to figure out what he could possibly need to talk to her about that couldn’t wait. They’d spoken a few times since Zira’s funeral, but they’d never been close, and they hadn’t worked together on anything recently. He was still looking at her expectantly. “Of course,” she said. “Sorry. Come in.”
“Thanks.” He stepped inside and looked around the living area. “I like your décor. It suits you.”
Normally, Aubreigh would have been flattered by the fact anyone had noticed and appreciated the room. She’d put a lot of effort into turning the blank, gray apartment into a cozy, colorful place she could call home. A patterned rug in different shades of blue and green lay across the floor, and she’d sewn covers for the pillows on the couch herself using fabric from a couple of old dresses. She could have made any number of appropriate responses to Seth’s compliment; she was very good at small talk. Tonight, however, she just wasn’t in the mood. She sat on the couch and gestured to a chair nearby. “What are you doing here?”
Seth sat down and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’m here because I need your help. Or rather, I know of some people who need help, and I think you’d be willing to give it to them.”
Willing. Not just able, but willing. “Help with what?”
“I guess I’ll just come right out and say it. I’m here to ask you to break the law.”
Aubreigh started to smile, but Seth’s expression remained deadpan. He was serious. “And what makes you think I would do that?” she asked.
“I think you see a lot of the problems with what the PEACE Project is doing,” said Seth. “Maybe because of what happened to Zira, or maybe it started before that. I don’t know, but I don’t think you’re nearly as invested in your job as you pretend to be.”
Aubreigh swallowed hard and put her hands in her lap, hoping he didn’t notice how they were trembling. Had Jared said something to him? Was this some kind of interrogation? “I’m not sure what gave you that idea,” she said.
Seth shrugged. “I know it’s not easy to trust an E-1 officer who comes in here accusing you of being disloyal. You probably think this is some kind of trap, and I don’t blame you. But I trust you. What I’m about to tell you could get me in a lot of trouble if you chose to reveal our conversation to anyone, but I don’t think you’re going to do that.”
Aubreigh nodded, but kept her guard up. This wasn’t just a trap—it was a test. She wasn’t exactly sure what the parameters were yet, but the consequences of failure were sure to be unpleasant. She sat back and listened as Seth began his request.
“I’ve been in contact with a married couple trying to escape the Project’s control. The wife is five months pregnant with their third child. The first two died very young, but they didn’t mean for this to happen. They applied for a special permit to have the child, but they didn’t mention that she was already pregnant because they didn’t want to get in trouble. The permit, of course, was denied.”
Aubreigh nodded, unsurprised by this. At least half a dozen permit requests came across her desk every week. It was standard procedure to deny them all unilaterally. The only reason unit C had them in the first place was to appease people, to give them a sense of control. It wasn’t real, but the public didn’t know that, and as far as the Project was concerned, that was in everyone’s best interests. The couple had already had their two children, and it didn’t matter that those children were no longer living. The resources that had been allocated to them were already being put to use somewhere else.
“They decided not to get an abortion,” Seth continued. “That’s when they contacted me. I made arrangements to help them disappear and negotiated transportation to get them somewhere safe. They were supposed to leave tonight, but yesterday when they went to pick up their rations, one of your colleagues noticed the pregnancy and looked into the couple’s history.”
“And the woman was ordered to have an abortion,” said Aubreigh.
Seth nodded. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow morning, which makes it dangerous for them to go anywhere now. If they don’t show up for that appointment, the Project will start looking for them before they have a chance to disappear.”
Aubreigh stared down at her hands. This was exactly the sort of thing she hated about her job as a population control caseworker. It wasn’t always as simple as forbidding a woman from having more than two children. People’s lives were far more complicated, and stories like this proved that.
That is, if the story was true. Aubreigh slammed on the brakes of the runaway train that had begun circling in her mind. This was a test. For all she knew, Seth was just making up this tragedy to trick her into doing something that would prove her disloyalty. A dutiful, unwavering caseworker would have said the couple’s problems were their own to deal with. What had happened to them was unfortunate, but they still had to abide by the same laws as everyone else. It wasn’t what she believed, but it was the correct response for the test.
She looked up at Seth and opened her mouth to tell him, but stopped.
His hands were clasped together and the muscles in his neck were tight as he clenched his jaw. Aubreigh reconsidered. He was more nervous than she was. Had he been telling the truth?
Given what she knew about him, that made more sense. He had a reputation for being a little overzealous when it came to reviewing the Project’s activities. He’d clashed with Zira for that very reason during unit E-1’s last internal investigation. More importantly, Aubreigh didn’t think he would do something like this—not to her. They were friends, or at least as close to being friends as Seth was with anyone else. He wouldn’t try to trick her like this. Would he?
She either trusted him or she didn’t; it was that simple. He’d never given her a reason not to trust him, and this might be her chance to save a family rather than tearing one apart. “All right,” she said. “What do you need me to do?”
* * *
This was crazy.
If she got caught, she’d be dead. Maybe not right away, but eventually, if she couldn’t talk her way out of it, she’d be executed for treason.
Aubreigh tried not to think about it too much as she placed her thumb against the security panel to unlock the front door of unit C’s operations center. It was nearly midnight, and the place was dark and deserted. She would have to come up with some excuse for why she’d gone back into the office so late at night, but that could wait. Right now, she needed to get to her workstation to look up Natalie Steele’s file.
She held the door as it closed to ensure it didn’t slam shut, then strode across the tile floor. Her steps echoed down the empty hall. She caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and her stomach did a somersault before she recognized her own reflection in the window. Aubreigh clenched her hands into fists and then released them. She needed to get a hold of herself. No one was here but her, and if someone showed up, panicking wasn’t going to help anything.
Renegades of PEACE (Secrets of PEACE Book 2) Page 3
