As evenly as I could, I walked to the side door and pushed outside into the night.
It was quiet now, and from this side exit I had a clear view of the woods behind the brick building. I crossed the asphalt track that surrounded the brick building, careful to keep to the shadows, and approached the chain-link fence. It was tall, twice Chase’s height, and topped by a spiral of barbed wire, and for the first time since we’d arrived I felt like a prisoner.
The door opened and closed behind me, and Chase came beside me, staring out into the dark forest, breathing in the pine that came on the wind. He didn’t speak, but his presence was enough to tear down the last layer of reserve.
I sunk to the ground and turned away from the freedom of the Red Zone, just beyond the fence.
“What have I done?”
“You told the truth.” He knelt before me.
“The truth?” I asked, holding up the Statutes. “I’m asking these people to fight. To die, maybe.”
He rocked back on his heels, staring at my hands, small in his.
“You’re more than you,” he said. “You’re them. If people fight, it’s because your story could just as easily be theirs.”
I thought of Kaylee inside, a young girl with the same brand I carried, willing to stand up to the MM.
“How does this story end?” I asked.
He glanced down, then reached for my forearm to help pull me to a stand. He reached into his pocket and withdrew something small, hidden in his fist. He locked it into the palm of my hand and closed my fingers around it, squeezing tightly.
Small and round. A perfect circle, never ending.
“It ends with our someday,” he said.
I blinked rapidly, stuffing the tears back down, and touched his face. He turned his cheek into my hand and kissed my thumb, and then he removed my necklace and placed the ring on the chain beside the Saint Michael pendant.
Someday, I thought. When we were so far outside this fence we wouldn’t even bother looking back.
“Someday,” I promised. His arms surrounded my waist, and we kissed in the silence, with only the floodlights high atop the chain-link fence to bear witness.
BY the time we returned inside, several of the refugees were loading the hijacked Statutes into boxes under Marco and Polo’s direction. I went to join them but was stopped by raised voices outside the office. Chase and I hurried over, finding Jesse and Billy arguing.
“It’s less than half a day away!” Billy shouted. “Half of Endurance is going there any—”
“Enough,” barked Jesse. He leaned over Billy, casting a wide shadow over him, and lowered his voice. “You could no more easily break into the Charlotte prison than break out of it. The place is impenetrable. Trust me.”
If I didn’t know better, I would say that Jesse had tried.
“What’s going on?” Chase asked.
“Last week there was a prisoner transfer to the Charlotte base. Some from Virginia, a few from up north. One from Knoxville.” Billy stared into my eyes, willing me to understand. “All of them were flagged as high priority and marked for completion.”
The chill of their impending deaths shivered through me.
“Did it say their names?” asked Chase.
“No,” answered Jesse for him.
“It’s Wallace,” said Billy. “Who else from Knoxville would they keep alive this long?”
A glimmer of black hope lit inside of me. A man with shoulder-length hair, peppered around the temples, and a sharp, twisting tattoo climbing his wrist came into view.
You figure out what matters, he’d told me once. And you do something about it.
“Wallace,” repeated Jesse. “Franklin Wallace from the Knoxville post.”
“Who’d you think I was talking about?” shot Billy.
Jesse wove his fingers behind his head and turned his gaze toward the ceiling.
“You knew him?” Chase asked.
For several seconds Jesse was silent, but his shoulders had begun to sag and it was obvious there was more than just recognition at play.
“I’ve heard of him,” he said. “A good man.”
“Which is why we’ve got to get him out before they kill him,” said Billy.
“We don’t even know he’s alive,” I said gently.
“Let’s say he is,” said Jesse. “Would he leave the others behind? Could he walk away knowing others had been sentenced to die?”
Now I was certain that Jesse knew Wallace. There was no way Wallace would leave his brothers—family had always been what he’d preached at the Wayland Inn. But Jesse’s words reminded me of being trapped in the Knoxville holding cells, and all the men I’d left behind to save Chase and myself.
“He would for me,” said Billy obstinately.
Jesse scoffed. “Then he’s not worth saving.”
Beside me, Chase’s posture grew rigid. He stared at Jesse as if waiting for him to say something more, but Jesse met his gaze evenly and added nothing.
“We can’t take these people with us,” I said. “And we can’t leave them here.” Billy looked as if I’d betrayed him.
“We’re wasting time!” he pleaded.
Jesse was right; this was a mission that required planning. I’d heard of the Charlotte prison during my time in the Knoxville holding cells—it would be no easy feat to break into. Even with Three’s forces gathering outside the gates, there were no guarantees we could save anybody without getting caught in the crossfire.
“Three will save the prisoners,” I said, hoping it was true.
A commotion from the main floor distracted us from the conversation. The refugees were charging away from the back exit.
“Hurry!” shouted Marco.
Polo ushered them through the supply room door where one by one they disappeared.
Chase and Jesse ran onto the floor, weapons drawn. I caught sight of the girl—Kaylee—the last in line to reach the room. She glanced back over her shoulder, eyes wide, as the garage door at the back of the loading dock began to rise.
“Hide,” whispered Marco.
I dove beneath the nearest printing press, feeling the heat radiating off it in waves. Across the floor, Chase crammed behind a tall stack of boxes near the emergency exit. Jesse followed Kaylee into the supply room and rammed the door closed just as the garage lifted fully.
The noise of the machines clanged into sudden silence, replaced by the growl of the delivery truck as it backed into place beside the parked car we had brought. From my viewpoint, I could see the glossy black boots of a soldier emerge from the passenger side of the cab and step to the ground.
The boxes of hijacked Statutes waited at the edge of the loading dock, boxed and ready, though there were still stacks that were unpackaged sitting on the black belt above me.
I held my breath until my lungs burned, knowing I could not make a sound.
“Kind of late for a delivery,” I heard Polo say.
Another man—the driver—came around the hood of the car to join the first. I could only see four pairs of boots and their pants from the knees down.
“We’re on doubles, they didn’t tell you?” The new soldier yawned loudly for effect.
“Always the last to know,” said Marco.
“Chief’s throwing a party on account of all those rat nests we took out last week,” said the driver. “Everyone in the region’s been invited. Didn’t you get leave approved from command?”
“Oh, that party,” said Polo. “We get invited to so many…”
“We’ll be there,” said Marco. “Um … where exactly was it again?”