by Ellery Kane
On the desk near the bed, I placed the one possession that I treasured most: an anthology of poetry that belonged to my mother. I had read it so many times, it seemed as if the words were my own. My mother’s favorite poem—Mary Oliver’s “Wild Geese”—was dog-eared. When I thought of my mother folding the corner of that page for me, I felt a pit deep in my stomach. I sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress was firm, unyielding, but far more comfortable than the library floor.
A short time later, Quin returned with a sandwich and a glass of water. He sat down on the bed next to me with Artos at his feet. He seemed more relaxed. I could feel the warmth from his body. He smelled like summer. He had taken off his jacket, and my eyes instantly went to his inner forearm—the black-inked badge clearly visible now. Quin rubbed his finger across the tattoo. I averted my eyes, but I knew that I had been caught.
“You can ask me about it, if you want,” he said.
“Well, that’s new,” I joked.
Quin laughed, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. He looked his age again, his seriousness momentarily dissolved. “I guess I can be a bit difficult at times.”
“Difficult? Is that how you would describe it?” I met his eyes for a moment, and we both smiled.
I quickly looked away. I didn’t want him to think that I was flirting. Was I flirting?
“You have some better words, I presume?” Quin teased, gesturing at my book on the table. “Haven’t seen someone with one of those in a while.”
I nodded. Traditional books were almost obsolete since most information was digital, stored on small computer tablets. “My mother gave it to me.”
“So …” I was tentative, trying to select the least offensive words. “You’re a Guardian?” I finally asked, practically whispering the word Guardian as if invoking it held some mysterious power.
Quin took a breath. His brow furrowed. “I was a Guardian … but not anymore.”
“Why?” I asked. That same small question that really was so big. “Why did you become a Guardian?”
“Let’s just say that being a Guardian comes with certain perks.”
“Like Emovere?” As soon as I spoke the words, I immediately regretted them. Though his face remained expressionless, Quin’s eyes were not as skilled at deception. “Sorry,” I muttered.
“More like food and shelter,” Quin replied. “I was only sixteen and homeless when they recruited me.”
I looked at him quizzically. I hadn’t expected that. “What about your family?”
“Gone,” he said. He disguised it well, but I heard a tangible ache in his voice. I knew better than to press for more.
Quin slipped back into his stony silence, then stood and walked to the doorway. “Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be busy.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t imagine a day any busier than this one.
“Artos, stay,” he commanded. As Quin closed the door, Artos whined and then settled near the foot of my bed.
Taking the book of poetry from the desk, my fingers easily found my mother’s dog-eared page. Once I skimmed past the first few lines, I thought of Quin as I read.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MAX AND ELANA
I JOLTED AWAKE. FOR A brief moment, I panicked, my surroundings still unfamiliar. Through the small rectangular window in the door, I could see Quin’s face. Looking up at him, Artos sat patiently, but expectantly. I stumbled to the door, hoping I was somewhat presentable.
“Did I wake you?” Quin asked politely, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. He wore blue jeans and a gray T-shirt that fit snugly against the curves of his biceps.
I smiled sheepishly and glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 8:30, but it seemed as if I had been sleeping for days—yesterday, a dream I had only now awakened from.
“Get dressed,” Quin said. “I want to show you around. There are a lot of people waiting to meet you.”
I felt my stomach churn. I was finally going to see the faces of the Resistance.
About thirty minutes later, Quin returned, and we revisited our path from the previous night. As we walked, he showed me the rest of the sleeping quarters and the dining hall. Apparently, many of the Resistance shared a room with a roommate since most of the quarters contained two beds.
“Everyone here has a job,” he said. “We have technology experts, ex-military, scientists, nurses, cooks. We’re like a community. No one is more important than anyone else.”
“What’s your job?” I asked.
“Surveillance.”
“Why did you choose that?” I wondered aloud. I couldn’t imagine Quin selecting a job that required patience.
“It’s slightly calmer than my last gig,” he answered, grinning at me and turning his hand to reveal his Guardian tattoo.
He pointed to a secure door on my right. “This room may interest you. It’s our laboratory.”
I peered inside. Large-screen computers lined the walls. In the center stood a workstation, apparently used to analyze blood and chemicals. A colorful diagram of the brain hung on the wall.
Quin also pointed out the armory and the kitchen, both of which had been well stocked in the days leading up to the evacuation. Though I saw no one, I had the sense we were being watched closely by hidden eyes.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
Quin gestured down the long, dark tunnel in the opposite direction of my room. “The Map Room. It’s where we keep the maps of the city and the underground BART tunnels. We usually meet there. They announce upcoming meetings over the intercom.” Quin pointed to several small speakers mounted down the wall of the tunnel.
“And we have these for when we’re authorized to leave headquarters.” He showed off a walkie-talkie clasped to his waistband.
Quin continued down the tunnel, stopping when he came to a large window. “Here’s the control room. I have some people I’d like you to meet.”
Inside, a stocky young man with spiky blond hair sat perched on the edge of a desk, carefully scrutinizing the screen displays. Next to him, a girl read a magazine on a computer tablet. Quin knocked softly on the thick glass.
“Q , my man!” yelled Spiky, his voice barely audible through the glass. He opened the door and embraced Quin. The girl rose to her feet, also smiling at Quin. He grinned back at her, nudging her teasingly in the side with his elbow. I watched more intently than I cared to admit. Quin seemed different with them, lighter somehow.
“Lex.” Quin looked over his shoulder at me. “These are my friends, Max and Elana.”
Before either of them spoke, I noticed they both had Guardian tattoos.
Max, aka Spiky, extended his hand. “Maximillian Powers, surveillance extraordinaire at your service.” He grinned, shaking my hand vigorously.
Elana and I studied each other cautiously, the way girls do. There was no other way to say it—Elana was stunning. She had peridot-colored eyes and long, red hair that coursed in waves down her shoulders. She wore no make-up, her skin bare except for a smattering of freckles. Her petite frame curved in all the right places, making my athletic build seem ungainly and hulking by comparison. I had known girls like her in school. Boys gravitated toward them, orbiting them like the sun. Next to her, I was practically invisible—a cold, gray star that was merely waiting to fall.
She spoke first. I was prepared to despise her, but her voice was soft and warm. “Elana Hamilton.” She offered her hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I feel like I know you already.” She cast her eyes downward and gave a timid smile.
Max chuckled. “Well, we do know a lot about you.”
I looked at Max quizzically.
Quin explained, “Max, Elana, and I were in charge of your surveillance. After your mother told us you’d be coming, we followed you into the city and took turns watching you. We tried to warn your mother that it was unsafe. You got lucky, Lex. Really lucky.”
Max and Elana glanced nervously at each other, as if they were sharing a distressing memor
y.
“The morning you crossed the bridge, there was a blackout. We lost the feed from the surveillance cameras, and I’m guessing the Guardians did too. Otherwise …” Quin’s voice trailed off.
Max put his hand on my shoulder. His voice was thick with sarcasm. “Let’s just say, we wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you.”
I tried to absorb the impact of Max’s words. Without that power outage, it would have been over. The Guardians would have taken me. I shuddered as an image of the dead man flashed in my mind.
“So you couldn’t see me on those?” I gestured toward the control booth.
As I spoke, several members of the Resistance passed by, one of the men calling out to Elana. “Hey there, Red,” he teased, smiling at her. Elana’s body tensed instantly. She didn’t acknowledge the man. Instead, she looked only at me. I noticed that both Quin and Max eyed the man with annoyance.
“No,” Elana answered my question. “That’s why it took the Guardians so long to find you. As soon as you left the library, their cameras spotted you.”
With each answer, my questions multiplied. They were now a determined army marching through my brain.
“If you knew where I was and knew that I was in danger, why would you leave me there?” Though my question was directed to all of them, I looked only at Quin.
He sighed. “We had orders. We had to know that we could trust you.”
“I guess I passed the test then, huh?” My voice sounded angrier than I expected, and it silenced them.
Max was the first to speak. “You sure did. I bet your mom would be proud.”
I knew he was trying to make me feel better, so I let him.
“Your mom’s gonna want to meet this guy,” Max said, slapping Quin on the back and laughing.
Quin stiffened. His face instantly hardened like a shell. I looked to Max for an explanation.
“He didn’t tell you?” Max asked, his voice incredulous.
When I didn’t respond, he turned to Quin, “You didn’t tell her?”
“Tell me what?”
Quin looked from Max to me. His eyes were brimming with shame. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said. Without another word, he turned and walked out of sight. Elana followed after him.
Quin’s words echoed in my head. Even though I hardly knew him, I knew enough to know that when he said later, he meant never.
CHAPTER TWELVE
BY CHOICE
MAX AND I GLANCED AWKWARDLY at each other. “Well, I guess I know how to break up a party,” he joked.
“Is he always like this?”
“If by this, you mean moody, but strikingly handsome, then yes. Unfortunately, he is.” Max grinned, and I instantly realized why Quin considered him a friend.
“Can I ask you something?” I had to know if Max and Elana had also been Guardians, and why there seemed to be so many of those tattoos around here in the headquarters of their enemy.
I pointed to his left forearm.
“This old thing, huh? I’m thinking of turning it into something— something tough, like a dragon.” We both laughed.
“So you were a Guardian like Quin?”
“Sort of,” he said. “Elana and I are Guardian rejects. We didn’t meet their expectations. Apparently, our scouting reports were greatly exaggerated.”
I listened intently. My mother had taught me to fear the Guardians, but she had told me very little about them. I only knew they were a highly specialized military police force that secretly used Emovere to suppress fear. SFTV lionized the Guardian Force as a collection of elite heroes. Their standards for selection were reportedly very high—and their methods for identifying recruits, mysterious. There was never any mention of Emovere, of course.
“This may seem kind of personal, but why were you rejected?”
Max paused for a long time. “Apparently, I am … homosexual.” He pronounced the word like it was foreign to him. “The Guardians have a pretty antiquated view of the world. I guess they thought I’d be too busy checking out Quin to fight the Resistance.” He gave a sly smile. “Come to think of it, they were probably right.”
I laughed. I had never heard the word homosexual said aloud until now, but I had read the term in one of my mother’s old psychology textbooks. The word was simply no longer used in conversation. In most places—especially in San Francisco—sexuality was a non-issue.
“And Elana?” I couldn’t imagine Elana was anything but perfect in every way. I tried to convince myself I didn’t care that she had gone after Quin. Why should I care?
“She didn’t pass the final intelligence screening. It’s very difficult. Most recruits fail that stage. Besides, Elana could never have been a Guardian. Even when they gave her Emovere, she was still far too tentative.”
Max’s words triggered a vague recollection of one of my mother’s articles. In it, she had explained how severe past trauma made some individuals partially immune to Emovere’s effects, requiring a higher dosage to achieve the desired results. The cause of their immunity was unclear but, anecdotally, my mother had observed that women were more likely to be Emovere resistant. I wondered if Elana, like Quin, had been through something irrevocable.
“How did you end up here?” I asked.
“The Resistance came looking for us. Obviously, because of what we knew, we were an asset to them.”
“I can’t imagine the Guardians being too pleased with that,” I said. Max looked down, his expression heavy with emotion. “No. There haven’t been any defectors since Quin over a year ago.”
I considered his words with trepidation. The Guardian qualification standards were overly demanding, making it highly unlikely that no one else had been rejected. But if they hadn’t defected to the Resistance, then where had they gone? What had happened to them? I couldn’t ask the question. I feared the answer was unthinkable. Instead I chose another question, one that had been nagging at me since the night before.
“What about Quin?” I asked. If I didn’t get the answer from Max, I would certainly never get it from Quin.
“Quin is kind of amazing.” Max smirked. “He breezed through the training. He was a member of the Guardian Force for two years.”
“So what happened?”
Max’s face grew serious. “Don’t ever tell Quin that I told you this. As you can tell, he’s very … private.”
“I’m sensing that,” I said, half-smiling at him. “It’s just between us,” I added, eager for his answer.
Max leaned toward me, his voice barely audible. “Quin is the only member of the Guardian Force to have ever left by choice.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ALCATRAZ
I SPENT ALMOST AN HOUR with Max, watching the camera feeds. Most parts of the city were under surveillance, but thanks to Guardian dropouts like Max and Elana, the Resistance had learned the location of most of the cameras and was able to avoid them.
Once every thirty minutes, a Guardian helicopter circled past the Golden Gate Bridge, ensuring there were no trespassers. Surprisingly, the cameras had no view of the Bay Bridge or its surroundings, and it had been too dark the previous night for me to see it. I wondered if the information my mother had received about its bombing was accurate. Aside from the helicopter’s predictable flight, there was no other movement to speak of.
“Pretty boring, huh?” Max leaned back in his chair, dangerously close to tipping it.
I nodded.
“Why can’t we see the Bay Bridge?” I asked.
Max gave a sly smile. “Why do you think?” He answered his own question. “It’s a little too close to home for the Guardians. They probably don’t want to risk the cameras.”
“Close to home?” The Guardian Force headquarters had been a mystery to my mother and me.
Max nodded, leaning even further back in his chair.
“Alcatraz,” he said matter-of-factly. Then he laughed, shaking his head. “The irony.”
Alcatraz! It truly was ironic. Almost
ten years ago, the government had closed Alcatraz to the public after concern was raised about the possibility of radioactive material in the soil. Since then, SFTV had periodically chronicled the government’s efforts to rehabilitate the state park. After a while, we heard nothing more about it. It made perfect sense—the Guardian Force hiding their indiscretions behind ancient prison walls.
“So how did you end up training to be a Guardian?” I asked.
Max sat upright in his chair, jolted by my question. “They found me. Not that I had any other offers. They told me that they knew a lot about me and thought I would be a good candidate. I was in a group home at the time.”
“A group home?” I looked at Max with concern.
“Yeah, your typical sob story.” He smiled. “Boy gets abused. Boy gets neglected. Boy runs away. Boy goes to a group home.”
“Max, that’s really awful,” I said. I was beginning to suspect that Max’s bold personality was a cover. “Do your parents know you’re here?”
“I doubt they care.” Max sighed. “My dad left us when I was a kid. Haven’t seen him since. My mom couldn’t really handle it. She started taking Eupho a lot. She was totally checked out. It was pretty bad.”
Eupho was slang for Euphoractamine, a popular emotion-altering substance. It induced feelings of intense pleasure or euphoria.
Max shook his head as if to shake off a memory. “Then she met my stepdad—and things went from pretty bad to a lot worse. My mom got pregnant with my brother, and I think my stepdad just saw me as an unpleasant reminder of my mother’s past. One of his favorite pastimes was using me as a punching bag.” Max shadow boxed in my direction. “After I ran away, I told my social worker I wasn’t going back home, so I went to the Oak Valley Home for Boys.”
I shook my head, giving him a sympathetic look.
“Isn’t it funny how those places always have nice-sounding names, like you’re going on a permanent camping trip?” Max said, laughing. “That’s when the Guardians found me. It seemed like they already knew that nobody would come looking for me.”
