“He went down there?” asked Dyllon as he pulled he grabbed the edge of the door. It opened smoothly and revealed wooden steps, leading into darkness.
Angela switched on her flashlight. Well-maintained steps led to a dirt floor. Sighing, she descended, sweeping her light back and forth, and stepped into a basement carved into the ground. Along the walls, vertical chinks marked where picks and shovels had been used to dig the hole. Rafters, covered in an oily substance, ran the length every two meters. Angela touched a post closest to the stairway. A preservative stained her fingertips. She wiped her hand on her pants.
“I can’t believe this,” she stated. “They must have been here for years.”
“It definitely took some time to dig out,” remarked Dyllon.
“It took more than that. It took a lot of help,” Angela said, moving deeper into the man-made storage area toward Micah, whose own light revealed cardboard boxes stacked against the farthest wall. “How else could they acquire these materials?”
“The park ranger,” Micah said, his palm touching a container. He sounded bored, but the look he gave her was one of self-satisfaction.
Angela’s pride plunged, like it was tied to an anchor. Of course, an operation this sophisticated couldn’t have happened without the ranger’s knowledge. Her initial instinct had been right all along, without the aid of genetically-enhanced perceptions. If she hadn’t let her hatred of The Center’s children, and her determination to prove herself an equal, affect her judgment, she would be standing before Micah a success. Instead, the boy would get the credit, and she, once again, had proven herself an incompetent failure.
Hatred and fury percolated.
Somehow, Angela would prove herself. And Dr. Hirch would see her as an equal. Until then, though, she’d work with Micah. She’d been making a bigger fool of herself fighting against him. Time wasted on small stuff when she could have everything, and show them all her superiority. It would be a lot easier if none of The Center’s children had been born.
Angela cast her gaze downwards as a smile graced her lips. Much easier.
She would have her revenge.
“Detective Petersen,” Dyllon wore a confused frown. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course.” She waved him off. “How did you know?” she asked Micah.
“The daybook,” he said. “A lot of people had touched it, contaminating it. But I had caught a glimpse of a male sitting in the passenger seat of a delivery truck. He was bouncing, like the truck was going down a rough road. When he looked up, I could see the layout of the land. Afterwards, he looked over at the driver’s seat where the ranger sat.
Even now,” Micah continued, a faraway glimmer in his eyes as his hand still touched the box, “I can see the ranger. There are others, but their images are blurry. All are from society: blond hair and blue eyes. Their faces are unclear. They are loading the shipment into a truck.” He paused for a moment, his lids scrunched. “The next image is of him unloading the truck and bringing the items in here. He is alone. He sets the box down, and the connection is broken.” He opened his eyes, azure burning a hole into her.
“But how did you know this was the place from the daybook?” Angela asked.
“I did not know,” Micah replied. “That is why after we followed Davis and found nothing, I wanted to go down side roads. With the evidence of the Renegades, and what I had gathered from the daybook, I knew the place had to be close.”
Somehow, even with the help of the area police, Davis had still been able to duck beneath their radar and deliver the supplies. Well, at least her radar, Micah’s radar had a much wider range. His abilities put her at a disadvantage, made her a joke. Soon, though, the playing field would be level.
Her mouth drawn back tightly in disgust, she opened a box. Bandages, surgical tape, aspirin, scissors, and other medical supplies filled the container.
Dyllon yanked open the top of another box and pulled out a can of green beans and one of sardines. “They eat better than I do.” He dropped the contents back into the box. “What now?” he said to Angela.
Micah cut her off, “We find the ranger.”
30
Soft grey clouds rolled along the blue sky, joining together, obscuring the sun. Thick humidity clung to the Missouri forest, and the scent of ozone was heavy in the warm air. The heavy rain that had swept through the area left puddles of standing water and muddy trails in its wake.
Rein followed the group surrounding Ellyssa, as she pointed out different plants and described their uses. Every time she turned around, she smiled at Rein, clearly enjoying teaching the Renegades how to survive. In fact, he was enjoying the lessons as much as the others and even played guinea pig when his family hesitated to try something new. He had tasted the inner bark of the white pine, which was amazingly sweet, and chewed on pine needles, which weren’t as good but were still edible.
Ellyssa dropped to her knees and unearthed a wild carrot. From her pocket she produced hemlock. She positioned them together in her hands. “As you can see, both taproots are white, so it is imperative to know the difference between them.” She set both plants down and moved back, so that everyone could examine the similarities. “Look at the leaves. They are both triangular in outline, and both produce flowers that can be white or pinkish in color.”
“How are we supposed to tell them apart?” asked Summer, a beautiful teen with chocolate eyes.
Summer’s was the first birth Rein had experienced. Her father had passed out, and her mother’s screams had echoed throughout the passages. It’d scared the hell out of him.
“Is it fatal if we gather the wrong plant?” asked Summer’s mother, her eyes the same color as her daughter’s. Her fingers were intertwined with her husband’s.
“Yes.”
“Well? How do we tell, then?”
Ellyssa smiled. “Very easily, actually.” She pulled some leaves from the hemlock and handed them to Summer. “Roll these between your finger and thumb.” She waited as the teenager did as instructed. “Now smell.”
Summer sniffed her finger and wrinkled her nose. “That stinks.”
Ellyssa laughed. “Yes, it does. Now, try this one.” She handed over the leaves from the carrot. “What does that smell like?”
“Carrots.”
“A simple test.” She dusted her hands on the legs of her pants. “Another way to tell the difference is by examining the stem. The wild carrot’s stem is hairy while the hemlock’s is smooth. Now, I would like all of you to try and find some wild carrots.”
The group dispersed into smaller crews of two or three, leaving Rein and Ellyssa alone. She turned toward him, her eyes shining.
“You’re a natural with kids,” said Rein.
She appeared shocked at his observation. “No. I’m not.”
Confused, he went to her and took her hand in his. “Why do you say that? Look how much you’re enjoying the children and their families.”
“I was never a child. Never had the opportunity to play or go to a normal school. How could I relate?” she said, her voice soft, thoughtful.
“But, you’re doing a great job.”
“It’s not the same.” She pulled away from him. “You forget, I was bred to survive. And to kill.”
“And not to feel emotion, either,” he added pointedly. “And to talk like a robot. And. And.” He went to her side. “And you’re not any of those things.”
She didn’t reply, her stance stiff as she watched one of the groups reappear. Green leaves poked from their small canvas bags. They waved before disappearing down an old deer trail.
“Ellyssa,” he said, touching her arm. “I want to show you something.” He pulled her into an open area where the rain was not hindered by overhanging branches.