She gripped my hand in a crazy-firm handshake. “Zenn Bower. You saved my family a couple years back.”
All eyes focused on me, but none felt heavier than Vi’s.
“I—I—” I didn’t know what to say. I remembered now. Mason Isaacs. His wife had been taken and coerced. He needed passage to Freedom, and Blaze and I had provided the service. River looked like she’d aged ten years instead of three.
“How’s your dad?” I finally asked.
“Director of Rise Twelve,” River answered. She cast her eyes around the wreckage behind us. “Come on, we’re not safe here.”
She and her band of rebels faded into the shadowy alley. Saffediene moved with them, easily hiding herself among the darkness. The girl had mad sneaking skills.
Gunn and Vi stood deathly still, gaping at me.
“What?” I asked, stuffing my hands in my pockets in an attempt at nonchalance.
“Interesting,” Vi said. She made to follow the others without removing her laser gaze from my face. “Very interesting.”
“What does that mean?” I asked Gunn, who’d hopefully picked up on Vi’s feelings.
“I think,” he said, “it means she’s sad she doesn’t know everything about you.”
“What the—”
“I lived with you, and you’re still a complete mystery to me. Don’t worry, Zenn, it’s part of your charm.” Gunn flashed one of his rare smiles before leaving me alone with my despicable self.
Upon arriving at Rise Twelve, Jag immediately put everyone to work. Leave it to him to show up unannounced and take over. He was a natural-born leader. Some say it’s his charisma. And by “some,” I mean “girls.”
I say it’s because of his crazy-powerful voice talent.
No matter what it is, everyone obeyed him. Not that he really commanded. But he spoke with authority, and as much as I hated to admit it, his ideas usually had merit.
“Got that, Zenn?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” I tried to focus on the convo, but we’d been over it before: use my voice if I had to, stay close to Vi, blah blah blah.
Jag didn’t buy it for a second. “You weren’t even listening.”
I looked at the midnight horizon over his shoulder. “Was too.”
“Gunn.” Jag glanced at him.
“He wasn’t listening.” The traitor ratted me out.
“How do you know?” I asked. I’d been burying my emotions for years. I didn’t want them exposed for anyone to feel.
“You don’t argue when you’re right,” he said.
“Whatever,” I mumbled. At least he couldn’t smell my guilt.
A few minutes later Jag sent Pace and Saffediene back across the ocean sporting backpacks filled with supplies, which only left me, Gunn, and Vi to bust Thane out of Rise One.
“We’ll attract less attention with a smaller group,” Jag said. “River doesn’t have more fake IDs anyway.”
“Who’s going to tether the boards?” I asked.
“Yeah, that,” Jag said, and I knew I wouldn’t like whatever came next. “Pace took your board. He left his for you—with the tethered boards.”
I glared at the ocean, as if it was to blame for this.
“Your board was the only one not voice activated,” Jag continued. “I had no other choice.”
Right. Or it was just another clever way for Jag to stick it to me.
Ten a.m. found me changing into standard-issue clothes and clipping a fake ID to my collar. I descended to the lobby, where the rest of the rescue team waited.
“Nice,” Jag said, examining us in Freedom’s finest. “We look official enough.”
We took to the streets with River’s team of three at ten thirty a.m. The few people out walked in straight lines, black suits glinting in the weak March sunlight. I was used to the silence that permeated the streets of Freedom. If people spoke, they used their cache.
Insider Tip #3: Follow the rules of the city you’re in. If you don’t know the rules, keep your mouth shut.
I glared at Jag, hoping he wouldn’t speak out loud. He must’ve gotten the message, because he kept quiet the whole way to Rise One. We walked right up to it and past a huddle of Enforcement Officers. River held the door open, and we filed toward the ascenders in the back of the lobby.
I couldn’t believe how easy everything was going. Adrenaline surged through me, making my nerves jump.
I swallowed hard when we arrived on the seventh floor. The air felt charged, yet eerily abandoned, as if the whole operation had been moved somewhere else since we’d been gone. Lab seven, though the largest, certainly wasn’t the only place in Freedom where heinous acts went down. Maybe we were in the wrong room.
But the two doctors standing guard at the end of the hall suggested differently. They’d already drawn their weapons and aimed them in our direction.
Gunn and Jag sprinted toward them while Vi squeezed her eyes shut. Even though my mind control wasn’t very developed, I knew she was keeping the guards frozen and silent.
Then Gunn and Jag said in tandem, “Release the weapons. Open this door.”
The guards put down their tasers, punched in the codes to open the door. Vi and I joined Gunn and Jag, and we took a collective breath as the glass slid sideways.
Inside the lab Raine already had her hand cemented to Thane’s. The walls blared with color that almost formed images.
“Damn,” I said.
Jag
9.
This is a trap circled through my mind. Everything felt too easy, despite the fact that Raine’s hand was already glued to Thane’s. A sense of unease skittered over my skin.
“Zenn, Gunn,” I said so softly I wasn’t sure they heard me, but they both sprang into action.
“Release her,” Zenn commanded the lone technician in the room. He didn’t move. Zenn’s fingers curled into fists. “Release her. Now.”
The technician held his ground, his dark eyes glinting with defiance. He thrust out his jaw. “I won’t. You can’t brainwash me.”
Zenn cocked his fist back and punched the technician in the face. He crumpled to the floor, leaving Zenn’s path to the counter of supplies unobstructed. I heard Gunn talking somewhere nearby. I heard metallic clangs and a shout. I heard a girl scream.
But I couldn’t tear my eyes from the two men seated at the silver counter: Regional Director Van Hightower and the General Director of the Association himself, Ian Darke.
Vi had to leave, now. I glanced at her, silently pleading with her to turn and return to River, to Rise Twelve, to safety. She spared me a half-second glance before returning her attention to her father.
“Ah, Jag Barque,” Ian Darke said, drawing my attention from Vi. Everything blurred along the edges, the same way it had when I found myself in that impossible situation in the Goodgrounds almost a year ago. Then, there had been so many voices. So many tasers. So many green robes. I’d managed some major speaking damage—until They silenced me.
Now, only Van and Ian stood before me, but I felt just as unsettled, especially with Vi still here.
Darke smiled and threw his arms wide, as if welcoming me home after a long absence. “So glad you could join us.”
I didn’t know how much time we had, but I knew it wasn’t long. Maybe not even minutes. Could I speak, though? Nope. I just stood there, staring at him. Thinking, So this is who I’ve been fighting for years.
I mean, I’ve always known it was Ian Darke. His profile in the Resistance is legendary. He’s powerful—and power hungry. His file is rivaled only by Van Hightower’s. If possible, he’s even hungrier for control, and rumor is he’d do anything to unseat the General.