He growled, but before he could stop her, she ran upstairs and grabbed the only clothes her siblings had left. Zach’s old, ripped t-shirt would replace the blue uniform he wore. Amber would have to wear her too-small burgundy dress. Carrie slid Greg’s lucky shirt in between the two, hoping David wouldn’t notice.
He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, expression tense by the time she finished.
“I’m ready,” she said.
A mile out of the subdivision, she realized she had forgotten to grab any of her own clothes. Not her ratty sweats or drab yellow work shirt. She hugged the pile of clothing close, catching the scent of the backwoods again. Then she settled in for the long ride back.
forty-four
GREG DID LITTLE TALKING once Isabel and McCormick entered camp. By then, Kearney had gathered all the major players to hear the plan. Some woman named Coral took charge of the medicine distribution. Kearney sent two armed guards with her to make sure there wasn’t a stampede.
Once that was taken care of, the strategizing began. The rebel leaders listened, discussed, argued, and eventually huddled around the map McCormick had brought of the Naperville training facility. Greg knew the moment Kearney’s group realized they were in the presence of the real deal because the tenor of the conversation changed. Instead of defensively fielding questions, Isabel and Commander McCormick were leading the discussion.
In many ways, Greg felt like an actor who had stumbled onto the wrong movie set. He paced around the group, kicking dirt, stepping over logs, and only hearing bits and pieces of the plan. But he offered nothing to the discussion. Build wells, consolidate a neighborhood, or block off a south entrance, and he was all over it. But war strategy? Planning a tyrant’s assassination?
As he thought about it, this meeting had only come about because McCormick lost his wife to the virus. Sure, the SPU commander hadn’t liked President Rigsby’s strategies, but until it struck McCormick’s own home, he hadn’t seen things for what they truly were.
What would McCormick do once he got revenge—if he got his revenge? Right now, this was pushing him through the grief of losing his wife. What would happen when he no longer had anything to occupy his thoughts? How would McCormick go on without her?
Isabel left the group and wandered over to Greg. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I already told you my one stipulation,” Greg said.
From the lawn chair where they’d propped him, Kearney turned his head. Even that seemed to take effort. “What stipulation?”
Greg looked at Isabel.
“Go ahead,” she said. “It’s a valid point.”
But before Greg could answer, a ringing sounded in the group.
One man jumped back and grabbed his pistol. “What the heck is that?”
Another ring, a sound from another time that seemed to startle everyone. They looked around to find the source, too.
“My apologies,” McCormick said, pulling out his phone. “Not everyone knows I’ve quit my job yet. I’ll just be a minute.”
A phone.
As McCormick stepped away, one of the men shook his head. “A little jumpy there, Brett? Are you sure you’re ready to return to civilized living? You look like someone set off a nuke.”
The group laughed, releasing some of the tension.
“So…?” Kearney said to Greg. “What’s your stipulation, spy?”
The rest of the group quieted down, looking curious to hear from the guy who had brought them all together but now had nothing to say.
Greg folded his arms. “No civilians hurt. The people bein’ trained in Naperville might be wearin’ a government uniform, but most are there by force. I know ‘cause I talked to a lot of them. They’d rather be on our side, but they can’t. So leave them out of the fighting. Focus on Rigsby and his cronies. Do that, and I don’t care what else you do.”
Kearney studied him with tired, narrowed eyes. “You know, Pierce, I can’t figure you out.”
“Join the club,” Isabel quipped.
“Rochelle!” McCormick said, breaking back into the group.
As one, they all turned, but McCormick headed straight for Greg.
“Your lady friend actually was in Rochelle’s work camp for women,” McCormick said breathlessly.
Greg stared at the phone in McCormick’s hand. “What?”
“Rochelle?” Isabel repeated. “Are you sure, Uncle Charlie? Greg called Rochelle—twice. Carrie wasn’t there.”
McCormick smiled. “I said she was in Rochelle. They released her Saturday. That’s why she wasn’t on the list when you called. They apologized profusely for the mix-up.”
Greg couldn’t move. The whole world seemed to freeze.
“Carrie’s free?” he whispered.
Not dead.
Free.
“Yes,” McCormick said, looking thoroughly pleased. “Maybe now you can breathe a little easier. Your girlfriend should be home safe by now.”
Greg’s eyes darted around the camp. He couldn’t remember how far Rochelle was from Shelton, but Carrie had a good sense of direction. She had been free for two days. Even walking, she could already be home.
He looked up, still confused by one thing. “Why did they release her?”
“They didn’t say,” McCormick said. “Maybe they figured out she didn’t deserve to be there.”
“Few people do,” Kearney noted dryly.
Murmurs of agreements rippled through the group. They were right. Those work camps were filled with women whose biggest crimes were squatting on government property. More likely, Greg and Isabel had scared Jamansky into releasing Carrie early. But why wouldn’t Jamansky have said so in his message?
Greg couldn’t make sense of it, but he didn’t care. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Carrie wasn’t just free, but she was alive enough to be free. He glanced over his shoulder towards the western sky, as if he could catch a glimpse of her.
“I bet we just missed her,” Isabel said, dark eyes dancing. “She could be home, Greg.”
“Or in Ferris,” he said.
Did Carrie even know to look for them in Ferris? He should have left a note or something at her house, telling her where they’d gone, but he’d never dreamed this would happen. Either way, Terrell was checking in on Logan Pond every day. He would spot her.
Greg spun back around to McCormick. “What about her siblings? Were they released, too? Or Oliver Simmons, a patrolman who…” At McCormick’s confused look, Greg shook his head. “Never mind.” The Rochelle facility wouldn’t know any of that anyway. Neither did McCormick.
“Hey, Uncle Charlie,” Isabel said. “Don’t you think we’ve used and abused Pierce long enough? He brought us to the rebels and even gave us his two cents on this Rigsby plan—and even that wasn’t worth two cents. What do you say we send him home?”
“Home?” McCormick and Kearney said at the same time.
Greg’s breath caught, but Isabel nodded.
McCormick scanned the group of rebels. None of them cared what Greg did. To them, Greg was still a government spy who had flipped sides. Not even Kearney would miss him.
“Fair enough,” McCormick said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys. “Just have the car back to us by tomorrow night. That’s when we head out.”
Greg stared at the keys. “Thank you, sir, but by the time I run back to your car, I can be halfway to Shelton.” And once he was with Carrie, he wouldn’t want to leave. Ever again. Already his mind was racing with how to find Amber, Zach, and Oliver Simmons. “I’m fine goin’ on foot. I just…” His voice caught. He cleared his throat and stepped forward to shake McCormick’s hand. “Thanks for lettin’ me go.”
“Good luck, Pierce,” McCormick said. “We are indebted to you. Your contribution might make all the difference. I hope we cross paths again under happier circumstances.”
“I’d like that,” Greg said, meaning it. Then he looked around the rough group of rebels, those who we
re about to take the most dangerous risk yet. “I hope your plan works.”
“So do I.”
“Hey, spy,” Kearney called, “thanks for the cure.”
“Thanks for not killin’ me,” Greg said back.
That brought another round of laughs.
Isabel approached him last, dark eyes going soft. “Good luck, Greg. If you change your mind and decide you want to join the fun, meet us in Naperville. Even if you just want to watch it all go down, I’ll save a spot for you.”
“Thanks, but revolutions aren’t really my thing,” he said.
“So you keep saying, but I don’t believe you.” Grinning, she gave him a quick hug. “Tell Carrie I said hello. One of these days, I might actually get to meet this girl of yours.”
“You’re welcome to visit Logan Pond any time,” he said. “In fact, if you’re ever lookin’ for a place to settle, I’ll save you a house. Your uncle, too.”
“Careful what you offer,” she said, smiling, “I just might take you up on it.”
* * * * *
Greg sprinted through the Ferris neighborhood, straight for the home his grandparents were staying in. He burst inside and looked around.
“Where’s Carrie?” he asked.
“Gregory, you’re back?” his grandma called, coming in from the kitchen.
“Yeah. Is Carrie here?” he said breathlessly.
“Wait.” His grandpa set his book down. “Was she released from prison?”
That was all the answer Greg needed. Huffing, he spun back around and took off for the front door.
“Where are you going?” his grandma said, rushing to follow. “Did you find my Carrie?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I’ve gotta run to Logan Pond. She’s probably sittin’ in her house, wonderin’ where everybody disappeared to.” Grinning, he gave his grandma a quick hug. “I’ll be back with her soon.”
“Hold on,” his grandpa said. He turned to his wife. “Didn’t Jeff Kovach say something about seeing Carrie in Logan Pond yesterday?”
Greg skidded to a stop. There was a lot in that sentence that didn’t make sense, firstly that of all the people his grandpa could have mentioned, Jeff Kovach was the last one Greg expected. The last he’d seen Jeff Kovach had been after Jenna’s death. Greg had given him tips on how to travel on foot, staying out of sight to find his parents. That had been three months ago.
“Jeff’s back?” Greg asked.
His grandma pushed up her thick glasses. “Oh, Gregory, you’ve missed so much. Jeff Kovach is back. I almost didn’t let him return, but he sounded so sorry for—”
“Wait,” Greg interrupted. “Jeff saw Carrie? Jeff’s here?”
He couldn’t keep up.
Standing, his grandpa grabbed his arm. “Come on. Let’s go find Jeff.”
They found Jeff Kovach in the temporary home Sasha and Dylan were staying in. Jeff’s large, burly body seemed to take up the whole doorway as he strode outside.
“Hey,” Greg said. “You’re back.”
Jeff shook his hand. “Yeah. I returned two days ago. I spent a full day wandering around the neighborhood, wondering where everyone went. I thought I’d never see my boys again.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Sasha Green, carrying Jeff’s youngest boy. Jonah clutched Sasha’s neck tightly, as if he wasn’t thrilled by his father’s surprise return. Little Jeffrey followed, taking everything in with his large, dark eyes. Both kids looked lost. Sasha gripped them as if she might not let go of them. She was going to be childless again.
“Sounds like things have been crazy here since I left.” Jeff frowned at Greg. “CJ told me about the Ashworths. Sorry.”
Greg nodded, not having time for all that. “How was…uh, everything?” he asked for lack of a better word. “Did you make it to North Dakota?”
“Yeah. I found my parents.” He smiled through his thick, wild beard. “In fact…where did Mitch go? Mitch?” Jeff called.
Another man emerged from the house, less brawny than Jeff, but with obvious family similarities.
“This is my brother, Mitch,” Jeff said. “He came with me to get the boys.”
Greg looked between them. “Wait. You’re leaving again?”
“My parents have a good setup in North Dakota. The laws aren’t quite as strict there.” Jeff shrugged. “I figure the boys and I should be around my family, you know? Everyone else can come, too, if they want—especially now that Logan Pond is out of the question. Sasha and Dylan are thinking about it.”
Sasha squeezed little Jonah harder.
“Wow, I’m glad you found your family. Um…” Greg scratched his head. “Sorry. I can’t quite think straight. What did you say about Carrie?”
“Greg said Carrie was released from prison two days ago,” Greg’s grandpa said. “He thinks she could be to Logan Pond by now.”
Jeff’s eyes widened. “Then it was her. I knew it!”
In a quick, hurried tone, Jeff Kovach explained how he’d been in his house yesterday when he heard a patrol car drive through. “Mitch and I were in my house, upstairs. I heard it first. We stayed low and just watched. The car stopped at Trentons, so it was hard to see, but then a few minutes later it drove to Carrie’s. That’s when we saw the patrolman get out. He brought dogs with him, but it didn’t seem like a raid. Even weirder, a woman got out of the patrol car a few minutes after that. And it looked like…”
“Carrie,” Greg whispered, stomach clenching.
Jeff nodded.
“What did the patrolman look like?”
Jeff looked at his brother. “Not sure, but it wasn’t Oliver.”
“Tall? Lean? Blond hair?”
“Maybe, but here’s something else. We saw Carrie run across the street a few minutes after. Not by her house, but farther down by yours, Sasha.”
“She was going fast, too,” Mitch said, “like she was running from something. But then she ran back a few minutes later.”
“Last we saw,” Jeff said, “she and that patrolman drove away together. When we spotted Terrell later that night—and after he explained where everybody had disappeared too—he said it couldn’t be Carrie because she was in prison. But now…I guess it was her because she’s free. That’s great, right?”
Jeff smiled.
Greg didn’t.
He stared down at his feet. If Jamansky had driven her home after her release, why hadn’t she stayed?
Greg looked up. “Did the patrol car have Chief of Patrols written across the side?”
“Come to think of it, yeah,” Mitch said. “How did you know?”
“Maybe she’s back,” Sasha Green offered, still bouncing little Jonah Kovach. “Maybe she just left for a little bit.”
Greg nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”
But his grandpa shook his head. “Terrell spent most of today there, just to be sure. She never came back.”
Why wouldn’t she have stayed? Even if she couldn’t find any of them, she would have stayed home. He could only think of one reason why Carrie would have left with Jamansky again.
She had no choice.
“Oh, I’ll ask her if she wants to come back,” Jamansky had taunted when he planned to release her at Oliver’s tribunal. “But it’s my duty to lay out all of her choices for her. Make sure she knows that she has…more favorable options.”
Greg started backing up. “Where’s Ashlee? I need Ashlee.”
“She already left with Braden and Richard,” Dylan said. “To find Amber and Zach.”
Greg looked around. “I gotta go.”
“Where?” his grandma said. “Gregory, you can’t leave. You just got here. Where are you going?”
He couldn’t even think straight to answer. He took off.
forty-five
ASHLEE PULLED OUT HER HIDDEN key from inside her fence post. She unlocked her back door and waved Richard and Braden inside her home. Richard held her small pistol in front of him—the one she’d given Greg—pretending he knew how to sho
ot should an attack come. Luckily for all of them, no attack came because he wasn’t even holding the gun right. Did he even know where the safety was? Sighing, she looked around her dark, empty house.
Flipping on a few lights, she headed straight for the kitchen. She found her spare green citizenship card right away in her junk drawer.
“I thought it was in your purse,” Braden said.
“I have a few cards,” she said.
Richard gave her a strange look. “Is that allowed?”
“If you know the right people.” Namely David Jamansky. “Now to find out if it’s valid. I wish I had an IDV machine. I bet David has one at his house.” She tapped her card against her hand. “Is it worth sneaking in and checking? He’s probably working right now.”
“Not worth the risk,” Richard said. “Just bring your card with us. I still think I should be able to get inside to visit Amber and Zach, assuming mine works. If not, we can decide what to do from there.”
She nodded and stared at her lonely house. Little had changed—same over-sized chairs and white, airy décor—but it felt different, like she’d been gone for years.
Her gaze went to one room she’d missed more than any other: the bathroom. “I’m going to shower really quick before we go. Don’t worry. I’ll be fast. Do you guys want quick showers? I bet it’s been ages since you’ve had hot water.”
“No!” Braden said. At his sharp response, he backed down, but only some. “I’m sorry, Ashlee, but we really don’t have time.”
Richard smiled. “I think Braden is a little anxious to get to Amber.”
“Fine,” Ashlee said. “Let’s at least grab some food.”
Ashlee opened her fridge. “Ew,” she said, waving a hand in front of her nose. “Ew, ew, ew.” Maybe food wasn’t a good idea. Something in her fridge smelled rancid. Probably several somethings.
“It can’t all be bad,” Richard said, eying what she had with obvious hunger.
“Help yourself,” she said. “I’m going to grab some things.”
Citizens of Logan Pond Box Set Page 119
