Children of the Uprising Collection

by Megan Lynch

  Samara paced back and forth, waiting for Taye to emerge from the dorm where the three former leaders were being held. They’d figured he was the best person to talk to them, as he and Denver were the only other Threes in here, and Denver hadn’t gotten anywhere with her questions.

  When he finally did walk out the door, he moved toward Samara with intention. He had a look that suggested he wanted to embrace her, but he did not. Instead, he pulled at his jaw and stared at the ground.

  “I know you don’t want to believe it, but the truth is that there’s only a small chance that Bristol has survived,” he said. “I’m sorry, but we have to move quickly.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll put together the search party.” Samara turned to get to work, but Taye caught her arm.

  “No,” he said. “That’s not what I mean. Listen, Tommy fully admits he’s at fault—though with Karale and Danovan screaming at him like that, he was unlikely to say anything else—but he says he heard a lasercam go off when he was walking away.”

  Samara was quiet for a moment. “Did he see Bristol die?”

  “He didn’t say.”

  “Bristol’s tougher than you think,” Samara said. “You think just because he’s Unregistered—”

  “That’s not what I think at all! My own brothers are Unregistered!” He was still holding her forearm. “I only went in there to talk to them as Threes because that’s what they care about. That’s not what I care about. I know there are more important things than Tier, there always were, but they’re more important here than they ever were on the outside.” He let go of her arm, but she kept it held out. “Tommy may have murdered your boyfriend, but he also endangered all of us here. We can only do something about one of those. If Bristol is alive, then he has to do his part and find us. We have to get everyone out tonight.”

  Samara was surprised to hear the word tonight. “Now? What did they tell you?”

  “They told me that they did have a contact with Metrics. An old man, kind of a crazy old man, who has been in Metrics since the uprising. He helped write the articles of the new constitution and everything. He’s an idealist, though, and they say he sees that Metrics hasn’t lived up to his vision. But he’s also kind of crazy—he doesn’t have a Tier, since none of the founders gave themselves Tiers, but the people he works with are all Ones. They don’t understand why he isn’t a One, and they do nothing but mock and belittle him.”

  “But he’s a founder. The founder of the whole system that benefits them!”

  “They’re blinded by power. He’s technically Unregistered himself, so that’s how they treat him. Apparently, he’s been helping the Red Sea for years and has gotten hundreds of people across the border.”

  “How?”

  “I think we should go join the others before I tell you.” He cracked a half-smile. “That’s the important part.”

  They rushed to the infirmary, where the new leaders were still meeting to strategize. Among them were Denver, Stephen, Nurse Sue, and a few other men whom Samara had never met before. Nearly all of them stood when they saw Taye approaching.

  “Well?” asked Stephen.

  Taye told them what he knew about the Bird, then went on to tell them about the old man who had been cooperating with the Canadian government to smuggle Unregistered citizens across the border that none of them had known existed until very recently. “The Red Sea used to have safe houses along a route, and there were paths to follow to each one. At the last one, they’d wait until they had enough people to load onto a bus, then take them across on this little dirt road where they wouldn’t be seen. They think with the relocation, the safe houses were all destroyed”—here Samara gulped as she listened—“and the bus they used may have also been damaged. It suggests Metrics knew about the Red Sea network for quite some time, but never did anything about it.”

  “What’ a missing Unreg here and there?” Samara murmured, repeating the words she heard on her first night in Nan’s safe house.

  “That seems like their attitude, yes,” Taye said. “But Unregistered numbers were growing, and they couldn’t send all Unregs to Canada, or else they ran the risk of the Registered citizens finding out that other countries existed.”

  “So they decided to kill them, and tell the Registered that they’d been relocated,” Stephen said. “Well, we knew all that. Did Metrics connect the old man to the Red Sea?”

  “Karale doesn’t think so. The Bird was the one who set up the support system with the Canadian government, so he wouldn’t be able to do that if they were on to him.”

  “Does anyone know—the Bird or the Canadians or whatever—that we need to run again?”

  “Not yet. If we choose to, we’ve got the Bird’s contact information. We can ask for help. Remember, we’re the leaders now.”

  Nearly everyone in the room looked at the floor. Samara let this revelation wash over her as well. It had been comforting living in Metrics, even as a Five. To never have to worry about surviving, to be safe and free from worry about the future, was something she’d taken for granted. She longed for that security back. She looked up and inadvertently caught the eye of Denver.

  Denver cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “We need to find Bristol first.”

  The room was silent. Samara could sense, as one of the few people in the room who had experience in the world of multiple Tiers, the Unregistered in the room searching for the courage to contradict her. Finally, one of the men found it.

  “No,” he said. “I think need to let the Bird know now. I’m very sorry. I’m very sorry.” He repeated his last sentence, acknowledging both Denver and Samara.

  The others in the room murmured their agreement with the Unregistered man, a tall and broad-shouldered guy who suddenly seemed to have been born a leader. Under different circumstances, Samara realized that, at one point in her life, she would have agreed with him as well and felt good about doing it. But she had learned too much, seen too much, to revert back to that.

  “We are all here,” said Samara quietly, “because Metrics decided that our lives were, for one reason or another, not worth saving. That we or someone we loved was not worth the financial costs, or that our knowledge made us a risk to society. We don’t have to be perfect, but we do need to be better than that.”

  “I agree,” said Stephen immediately. “We can’t leave Bristol. We can’t leave anyone.”

  Taye looked around. “Samara and I weren’t elected leaders. You all were. You need to vote on what to do now.” He looked to Samara. “And we need to respect their decision. This is what we wanted.”

  It wasn’t even close. Taye went back to the old leaders to tell them, and the new leaders began rushing to write a message to the Bird.

  While they were huddled together suggesting ways to tell him what had happened, Stephen looked from Denver to Samara and gave a little nod toward the door. Samara didn’t understand—was he trying to get rid of her? But Denver took her by the hand and led her out the door.

  The wind whipped Samara’s face. “What are we doing?”

  “What do you think, stupid?” The corners of Denver’s mouth twitched upward as she tightened her scarf. “We’re going to find my brother.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jude couldn’t hide his surprise when Bristol came limping toward his stand. He gave a little yelp of shock and relief, and even though he never really got the impression that Bristol liked him at all, when Jude lumbered down the tree and toward him, Bristol caught his shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. Jude immediately stiffened, but patted him with his good hand several times before breaking away.

  “You’re supposed to go back to the road where our car stopped,” Jude said, more of a statement of surprise that he was not there already than an accusation. “Samara said they were going to send a search party to go find you there.”

  “Oh—” Bristol’s face suggested that he’d forgotten. Jude, elated to have discovered something unsaid in another human being’s e
xpression, trembled with excitement and possibility.

  “But maybe they haven’t sent the search party yet!” he said. “They’re talking about what to do now that we have to leave.”

  “Leave?” Bristol asked.

  “Yeah, well—didn’t the lasercams see you?”

  “If they had, I wouldn’t be here.” Bristol briefly explained how he’d thrown a stick to catch a laser, but that Metrics would probably think it was just a falling branch, if they’d seen it at all. “Or maybe they’ll think it was a forest animal.”

  “What?” Jude’s eyes widened as he listened to the story of the animals with the gray-brown coats and the sharp teeth. “Cool!”

  “Well, not so cool. One of them bit me. I should really get back and get this cleaned up, but I got lost. I’m glad I found you.”

  Jude beamed and let that word sink in—you, not a generic somebody.

  Bristol kept talking about his injury and how his arms ached from hanging onto the tree trunk, but Jude interrupted him with a quiet shh. Someone was coming. It would take him too long to climb back up, and Bristol wasn’t in any shape to get to his usual branch either, so both of them hid behind a tree and listened to the quiet, almost silent, footsteps get closer. Jude could tell they were coming from the direction of the monastery, but with all of the uncertainty going on there, he couldn’t be sure it was a friend approaching.

  Jude heard Stephen’s distinctive cough just before he heard him call his name. “Jude?”

  Jude lunged out to him. “I’m here!” He pointed to Bristol. “And look who else is here!”

  Bristol and Stephen shook hands with broad smiles; both suddenly seemed very tall. Jude felt himself shrinking. “He forgot about the plan.”

  “I did. The search party hasn’t gone out yet, has it?”

  Stephen frowned. “The new leadership decided—”

  “To let me go.” Bristol shook his head. “I knew it.”

  “Well, yes, but ponder what that says about human behavior later. Samara and Denver did go on their own, and they weren’t back when I left. I came to get Jude because the Canadians are here with their airship. They’re taking us away.”

  “We can’t leave without Miss Shepherd,” asserted Jude, not realizing at first that he’d used Samara’s teacher name.

  “Or Denver,” said Bristol.

  “Of course not. But they may be back already.”

  “Without having found me? Are you crazy? Do you know Samara and Denver?”

  Bristol had a point. Jude wasn’t as close to Denver, but he couldn’t imagine Samara giving up on anyone. She’d risked her comfortable life to save Jude, but he had a suspicion that she and Bristol had a connection that he didn’t quite understand. Whatever it was, it would compel her deeper into the forest, not back the way she came.

  “I’m going to find them,” said Jude.

  “The airship is there now—they’re already loading us in. And they can’t wait forever. There’s a very good chance we could be stuck here with no support if we don’t go.”

  Bristol balked. “My sister is carrying your child. You’d just leave them here, as long as you can get to safety?”

  “Of course not. I’m suggesting that I go find them, and you two get back as quick as you can.”

  Jude shook his head wildly and Bristol shouted “No!” Stephen threw up his hands—have it your way—and, turning away from Bristol and Jude, began to walk north. Jude glanced at Bristol, and the two of them followed.

  Soon enough, Jude heard a crunching of leaves, not the kind of sound two women who’d relearned how to walk quietly would make, nor the kind he imagined animals would allow. A boisterous sound, like whoever was walking thought they weren’t in the woods at all, but in their own bedroom, safe on the outside, where no one worried about who might be watching them.

  There was no time at all to run or hide—five or six men in military uniforms came barreling through the forest until one of them pointed to the three of them and called out a greeting in a cheery voice. All the soldiers, who were dressed like soldiers and moved like soldiers, were all suddenly very un-soldier-like, throwing up their arms and shouting in celebration. The one who called out came running. Jude widened his stance slightly, feet gripping the insides of his boots.

  “Thought we’d never find you!” the soldier said.

  “Well, now, that’s a lie now, ain’t it?” said another, then turned to Stephen, the tallest of the three. “We wouldn’ta left you here.”

  “Why d’ya look like you’ve seen a ghost?” the first asked with a laugh.

  Jude’s mind went wild with answers, and he began blurting them out before he knew what he was saying. “Because you’re so loud! And you sound—I can understand you, but you sound so…” He realized he didn’t know how to finish.

  “Ah,” said one solider to the other four. “They haven’t heard a proper English accent before.”

  “That’s not a proper one, mate. He’s a Brummy.”

  Jude felt his mind struggling with the new sounds. What a strange thing, to understand, yet a fraction of a second behind what it was used to processing. Bristol looked at Stephen, who looked as confused as Jude felt.

  “Wait a minute,” said Stephen. “We were told that the Canadians were coming for us.”

  “Technically, they did. The United Kingdom is their ally. Your government is keeping a closer eye on them, so we jolly old Brits are picking you up instead.”

  “Sorry about that,” said another soldier, and the others laughed.

  “We don’t have to be quiet; there’s no one around for miles. But we do have to be fast. C’mon; let’s go.”

  “We’re waiting for—”

  “The ladies? Already found ’em, mate. All we’re waiting on is you three buggers.”

  Jude tried to keep the corners of his mouth from curling up, but they wouldn’t stop. It had been so long since he’d heard talk like this, light and good-natured. Bristol seemed to be having the same problem with his mouth.

  “Let’s go,” he said with frown that was struggling to stay a frown.

  St. Mary’s was barely recognizable with the gargantuan black airship parked on the field. It was another funny contrast, and Jude’s eyes struggled to take it all in: he’d never seen an airship on the ground before, and it looked much larger than they did in the sky. The black paint gleamed against the snow on the decaying grass and shabby cabins. The jovial soldiers gave them special blankets made of crinkly material which managed to keep them warm nonetheless. The campus had an eerie atmosphere, a silence different from the usual silence of people keeping mostly to themselves. At least then it was moderately alive, as the Unregistered were used to living their lives. With no one around at all, it was ghostly.

  The airship lowered down a wide ramp and Jude followed Bristol and Stephen inside. Both Stephen and Bristol hiked up the ramp and immediately whipped their heads from left to right, looking, Jude supposed, for Samara and Denver. Jude got one short glance inside—a large flat surface, black all over, with campers wrapped in their blankets and huddled along the walls of the airship—before the soldiers ran in behind them and made a silent motion. Immediately, the ramp snapped shut and plunged the inside of the airship into darkness.

  There was a hand at his elbow, and a soldier said, “Just sit down where you are, mate. It’s a fast take-off.”

  Jude sat, and his stomach dropped as they were lifted straight into the air at a speed he’d never felt before. It was a few seconds before he realized he was holding his breath. He took in a long drink of air and wondered for a moment if they were still moving. The hand at his elbow slapped at his shoulder.

  “Cool, innit?”

  Jude didn’t know how to respond. He reached his good hand out for Bristol, swatting in the dark until something crinkled. “Bristol!” he whispered.

  “I’m here, Jude.” Bristol’s voice was low and serious.

  “Where are Samara and Denver?”

 
Silence.

  “I said, where are—”

  “I heard you. I don’t know.”

  Now Jude was silent as he struggled not to cry. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to have faith.”

  “Faith?” Jude’s voice cracked, but he no longer cared how small he sounded. “What’s that?”

  Bristol’s hand bounced against his own, and enveloped it firmly. “Hoping, even when you have no reason to hope.”

  “Is that all?”

  “That’s all.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Denver got one short glance of Stephen and Bristol entering the airship before all the lights went out. She took off her coat and backpack for the first time and placed them both on Samara’s lap. “Hold these for me,” she whispered and crawled in Stephen’s direction. She groped in the black air for him. “Stephen?”

  She heard a sob, and a moment later, while her mind worked to put together who this might be—the voice sounded older than a child’s—she felt the unmistakable touch of her husband’s hand on her hand, then her wrist, then her arm. He pulled her toward him and sobbed again, and the cries became wild, unconscious manifestations of what she herself was feeling—relief. Disbelief of their own luck. They held each other in a tight embrace. It no longer mattered that they couldn’t see. Even without touching each other for weeks, Denver knew this body like she knew her own, as if she’d already spent an entire lifetime holding it.

  His warm tears wet her lips when she kissed him. “I thought you might be still…”

  “They came and found us.”

  With effort, he exhaled. “Bristol and Jude are here.”

  “Thank you. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me; I didn’t do anything.”

  “I’m not thanking you, exactly. I’m thanking…whatever it is, the thing we can’t see, whatever’s helping us.”

  “Something we can’t see is helping us?” Stephen snickered. “Tell it to try harder.”

  “Stephen, we’re still alive. And our baby is growing, even after all this. Something is helping us.”