Those bodies wouldn’t be living if the MM destroyed those posts before we got there.
DeWitt nodded to Chase. “Your uncle’s asked to be assigned to the mission.”
It surprised me that Jesse already knew of it. They had put together this team so quickly.
“I want Billy to come, too,” I interrupted. The council members stared at me. I guess people didn’t question DeWitt’s orders too much.
“He can break into the mainframe, find out what he can about the prisoners.” The last time we were in Greeneville he’d hacked into Marco and Polo’s computers to search for any new MM arrests from Knoxville. “Please,” I added.
Patch scoffed. Panda was shaking his head at me.
“All right,” said DeWitt. Panda froze.
The doctor focused on me.
“You remind me of my daughter,” he said after a moment. “Maybe that’s why I feel the need to tell you that this isn’t going to be a walk in the park. Once people see you alive, see what you’re doing with the Statutes, everything’s going to change.” He paused. “Consider staying behind. This mission can be run without you. We could send a decoy.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was my idea, my name.
“First you don’t trust me,” I said. “Now you’re trying to protect me?”
“You’re a valuable asset,” said DeWitt. “We’d like to eliminate risk.”
So it wasn’t about my safety, it was about my usefulness to Three. That’s why Sean had been sent to get Tucker instead of me.
“Why don’t you let me worry about that?” Chase’s tone was cold.
I placed a hand on his chest, feeling the muscles flinch beneath.
“You’re not sending someone out pretending to be me,” I said, trying to keep an even tone. “We already did that in Knoxville.”
Recognition flashed in DeWitt’s eyes.
“I know Cara worked for you,” I said, going on a hunch that Cara’s sniper attacks on the MM had truly been supported by Three, as I’d suspected. “And I know she died for you. I was there with her in Greeneville right before the MM took her. She gave everything to the cause. Nobody else is taking the fall in my name.”
Twin red streaks blossomed on either side of DeWitt’s jaw. My pulse quickened; I was playing with fire. Chase inched beside me.
“When do we leave?” he asked.
“Soon,” said DeWitt. “There’s just one small matter to attend to first.”
I exhaled, but didn’t feel relieved.
“Then do it already,” said Panda.
“Do what?” asked Chase.
“We brought you here because this is where we honor the brave,” said DeWitt. “Among those who gave all they had willingly.” Three’s leader watched me closely, gauging my response. The situation didn’t sit right. The graves looked peaceful enough, blanketed with dried leaves, even bundled wildflowers in a couple of places, but that didn’t mean someone’s bones weren’t under my feet.
“Show her,” said Ms. Rita.
DeWitt untied the neck of his tunic and pulled it to the side, exposing one shoulder. Ms. Rita followed suit, then the others. There, on their left shoulders just below the collarbone, were three parallel scars, pale blue in the light of the moon. Scars I’d once seen on Cara the last time I’d seen her. They’d been what the woman in the radio room had been looking for when she’d told me about the soldier counts.
The breeze shifted then, and brought with it the heaviness of responsibility.
“You do this thing, you don’t just do it for your mother,” said DeWitt. “You do it for all the mothers. All the daughters and fathers and sons. Do you understand?”
I didn’t. But I nodded anyway.
“We carry these marks as a symbol of our dedication to the cause.” Patch’s voice was strong despite his withered form.
“We carry them on our hearts as a mark of trust,” said Ms. Rita. She turned to Panda.
“We carry them to remember those who have fallen,” he said.
“We carry them so that no one can take them away,” finished Van Pelt.
“We carry them,” said DeWitt stepping closer, “because they remind us we are not alone.” I glanced to the side, realizing the council members had formed a circle around us. Their right hands were resting over their hearts in the way I’d seen the people of Endurance do when we first arrived.
“Hold on,” said Chase. I held out my hand to stop him. They were right; this was bigger than me, and the sooner I accepted that the better.
I wasn’t afraid anymore—not of this place, not of the council members or their purpose.
Not even when DeWitt pulled the knife from his pocket.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Are you sure?” whispered Chase.
Nervously, I untied my collar, and tilted my head to the side as DeWitt brandished the knife against my heart.
“It only hurts for a moment,” he said softly.
On the first cut I siphoned in a quick breath, locked my jaw, and stared at the closest cross.
On the second, I exhaled.
I never felt the third.
“Welcome to Three,” said DeWitt.
THE cool night air made the mark sting, but I didn’t care. For the first time since we’d arrived I felt like I actually belonged here.
DeWitt withdrew a bandage from his pocket. He removed the sticky backing and placed it gently over the wound. I followed the council members and tied the collar back in place; no one I knew to be a part of Three broadcasted their marks.
They looked to Chase, and Chase looked to me.
We’ll never be able to go back, he’d said. These were our lives now.
But when I considered them marking him, I felt unsure of my choice. It was like standing on a cliff, inching closer to the edge.
A crash inside the shed distracted me, bringing a chill up my spine. DeWitt’s head snapped in that direction, and soon he was running toward the sound.
“Billy,” I whispered. Chase and I followed closely behind.
We reached the door and found Billy still outside. Physically, he looked fine; there was no blood, no broken bones. But his knuckles were flexed around the gun he pointed at the door.
Another crash came from inside, this time followed by a male’s sharp cry of pain. DeWitt was struggling to open the deadbolt on the door with a key from around his neck.
“Who’s in there?” Chase asked.
“Your uncle,” muttered DeWitt. A second later he’d removed the lock, but Chase shoved him aside and plowed through the entrance. I followed him inside, blinking back the bright lantern light coming from three of the four walls.
To my left, hidden from view of the front door, was an animal cage, like that which would hold livestock, and curled across the bottom of it, too big to stretch out, was a man.
His face was bruised and swollen. His navy blue uniform jacket was stained with blood and sweat. Standing outside the cage, his hands entangled in the mesh, was Jesse. He had a pair of needle-nose pliers in his teeth.
“Oh,” I said, siphoning in a breath.
Chase was staring at his uncle, the shock on his face hardening to rage.
“Rebel dogs,” muttered the soldier. He grinned at me, teeth bloody. “You know what they call a female rebel dog?”
Jesse kicked the mesh, sending it rattling against the back wall. The man flipped over onto his other side. With him facing away I could breathe again.
“You keep prisoners here,” I said, forcing myself to look away from the soldier.
This was a war. He was the enemy. Men like him were killing my friends.