Two arms crushed the wind out of my chest, and stopped my fall a few feet from the cold ground.
“Easy there, lass. Don’t need you bustin’ yourself up any more.”
Facing dripping with humiliated tears, I blinked at Peter in the shadows behind the check-in hut. “Leave me alone.”
His dark eyebrows arched, and a dry, but sympathetic smile crossed his scruffy face. “Alone? Can’t do that. You’re barely standing as it is.”
With a deft pull, he stood me upright, and tugged a woolen blanket from around his shoulders that Peter had been wearing like a poncho. This he wrapped around both of us and slid my arm over his shoulders to hold me up. He smelled strongly of alcohol, but seemed steady on his feet, and I couldn’t help but notice he still carried his cutlass and brace of pistols.
“Thought they kept you all locked up.” I hissed between chattering teeth, too cold to shove him away, the warmth from him and the blanket a godsend to my weakened frame.
“Could say the same about you.” Peter snorted, and walked me around the hut, back toward the clinic. “I jut slipped out to get a little night cap. You’d be surprised how many drinks people leave for the dead.”
He was there?
More pain cut through my already ragged heart, and I squeezed my left eye shut to fight the harsh sobs.
Peter’s arm around my back tightened a little, and he gave me a small pat on the opposite shoulder. “No need for waterworks, luv. You just need some shut-eye, yeah? A little nap, some nice hot brew, and you’ll be right as rain.”
“He kissed her.” I whimpered, too tired to raise my hand to wipe my face, the tears icy on my cheeks.
By the way Peter sighed, I could sense a sort of empathy there, something beneath the Caribbean-style accents the pirates all put on like a stage name at a Broadway show. “I saw.”
At this point, my feet merely scraped over the ground, Peter carrying me more than I moved under my own power. I could hardly keep myself conscious, but the agony of my bleeding soul refused any kind of succor that sleep might provide. How had I been so stupid, so naïve? Of course Chris had never loved me. How could he, when someone like Jamie existed? I was just an obstacle, an inconvenience, a third wheel that got in the way far too often.
Not for much longer though.
“I’d say it gets easier, watching the one you love chase after your friend.” Peter dug a small bottle from his pocket to drain the last of its contents and tossed it away into the grass beside the clinic road. “But that’d be the blackest of lies. Truth is, it never leaves you, that kind of misery. You just smother it, paint over it, drown it until the water’s so high over your head you can’t hear yourself scream anymore. And you go on, day after day.”
My guts lurched at the scent of whatever beer he’d looted from the check-in hut on his breath, but I clung to Peter anyway, knowing that I couldn’t take a step on my own for how numb my legs were. “W-Who was it for you?”
His charcoal-colored eyes looked up at the stars, a brief glow of something in them that almost resembled joy. “Grace. She was really something. Hair like ink, skin like porcelain, sharp as a tac from the factory. Back when Sam and I had our pirate act, she played with us, for all the rest of the group. We were thick as thieves, we three.”
Grace. The name held sway in my memories, uttered with an almost untouchable reverence from the lips of the other pirate children, like some sea goddess who held power over life and death itself. Captain Grapeshot seemed especially vulnerable to that name, as if it was enough to push him over the edge of sanity, into either fits of rage, or reflective silence. I’d seen the memorabilia in his cabin on board the Harper’s Vengeance, well-kept romance books that didn’t fit the masculine persona, a polished rapier than never left its place on the wall, a shark’s-tooth necklace that Grapeshot rubbed in his fingers like some kind of magic talisman. So, the catalyst for the childrens’ descent into crime hadn’t been hate after all.
It had been love, adoring, heartbroken love.
“Turns out, things were thicker between some of us than others.” The brief glimmer of whimsical happiness faded, and Peter dropped his gaze back to earth, the two of us winding our way between the livestock pens in a slow gait. “I could see it every time she looked at him, and Sam was over the moon for her. I knew I had to make a choice, either to cut in for myself, or step aside for my friend.”
Daring to swivel my head, which felt like moving a mountain for how much energy it took, I watched him through bleary eyes. “And?”
A tortured half-smile crossed Peter’s lips, and he kicked a pebble with his old-fashioned sea boots. “Loyalty is a love in and of itself. Sam was my brother, even if we never shared any blood, and I wouldn’t go against him. Grace was happy with him, I could see that, so I did what was right by them.”
And now the captain’s hunting him down. Is that how life is meant to be? All the pretty people get to fall in love, and the rest of us have to suffer in silence?
“So, I’m just supposed to ignore it?” I coughed on a new bout of mucous, and Peter dug in his long-tailed coat pocket to hand me a cloth handkerchief.
His eyes registered pity, and a resigned acceptance that would have made me sad if I wasn’t already low as could be. “We’re both walking dead men, luv. You’ll die in a bed, surrounded by people who’ll miss you. I’ll die hanging from a rope, tied by people who hate me, and rightfully so. We might as well leave the world with a brave face instead of a sorry one, eh? Crying won’t give us more days.”
We stopped at the rear exit to the clinic, Peter seeming to have the fort well mapped out thanks to his slippery prowess at escape. It struck me that he could easily have vaulted the wall, climbed our perimeter fences, and made off into the woods to save his own skin, but he didn’t. Peter stayed, for the crew, for the other children huddled in their cells in the mechanical garage and for those still under the thumb of Grapeshot. For all his crimes, for all his flaws, the skinny young pirate had loyalty, and that drove him onward with unshakable resolution.
Wiping at my face with shivering hands, I turned to him at the door, and tried my best to smile in appreciation. “I never said thank you, you know. For saving my life out there.”
“That’s the wonderful thing about pirates.” Peter donned a mischievous grin and waved one hand with a flourish to produce a hair clip out of nowhere, one I recognized as my own. “We’re so good at robbing you blind, you never have time to say so.”
With that, he winked, tucked the pin into my hand, and sauntered away into the gloom, one palm resting on the hilt of his cutlass, the other fishing in his coat pockets for more stolen liquor.
The walk back through the darkened research workshop was a lonely one, and the short trip to my bed lonelier still. Sandra remained where I’d left her, asleep in her chair. None of the other nurses at the front desk noticed me slip in through the back, and I eased myself under my heated blanket with a small sigh of relief. Everything hurt, but at this rate I didn’t care. If I died in my sleep from my reckless walk in the night, it would be a mercy.
Shutting my good eye, I let the tears continue, and pulled the blanket over my face.
“Hannah. Hannah, wake up. Hannah, wake up, come on.”
Confused, my limbs as heavy as lead, I jolted awake at a hand on my shoulder. I would have thought mere seconds had passed, the fatigue as fresh as if I’d just laid down. Sunlight streamed in the windows behind me, and for a moment I had a jolt of hope. Had it all been a dream, a horrible nightmare produced by the roots?
“I warmed some soup up for you.” Jamie held out a small tray with a white bowl full of chicken noodle soup, her emerald eyes ringed with dark circles. “Chris dropped it off late last night, while you were asleep. Thought maybe it’d be a nice change of pace.”
A change of pace for him or for me?
Grief stabbed into me at the realization that last night had been real, and I swallowed a dry lump in my throat. “I’m not hungry.”
Her face fell, and Jamie scooted closer in her metal folding chair. “At least try it. Just one bite? You’re going to need your strength today.”
“For what, puking?” The vitriol came from me easier than I thought it might, and I fought to keep from choking up, as my daily cough-up of mutated slime began to well in my throat.
Her gaze flickered with hurt, and tired creases appeared in the corner of Jamie’s mouth. I could see where she’d been crying again, both eyes still red, her blonde hair stringy and unwashed. She looked exhausted, but that only made it worse, as I imagined what might have kept her up all night.
“You have to eat something.” She sat the tray on my bedside table and leaned close to whisper in my ear. “I got a lead on the key, and the coordinates location. I know where to go, but I need you with me. Please, Hannah?”
In my head, I pictured her and Chris, saw them kissing in the check-in hut, and my blood boiled. I wanted to scream in her face, to rip her hair out, not that I had the strength to do either. I thought about asking her to sneak my handgun along, just to let her drive us out into the woods so I could thumb down the safety when her back was turned. It would be easy to make up a lie, to tell everyone that she’d been eaten by a mutant, that I was too weak to save her, that I only escaped with my life. Chris would be devasted, but then again, maybe I could get him alone too and . . .
Stop. Forever stop thinking like that. What the hell is wrong with you?
My heart twinged, loneliness outweighing my rage. No matter what they’d done, Jamie and Chris didn’t deserve that, not from me. How could I fault them over falling for each other when I loved them both for the same reasons? Deep down, I wanted them to be happy, and couldn’t bear the thought of a world without them.
I just wished they felt the same way about me.
“I’m really tired.” Sniffling, I swabbed at my eyes with the corner of a bedsheet. “I won’t be much use to you out there. W-Why don’t you ask Chris to go with you?”
At that, I dared to peek at her reaction, a vindicative side of me wondering if she’d catch on that I knew about her dirty little secret.
Jamie sat back in her chair and look down at her hands with a heavy sigh. “He . . . he wouldn’t understand. I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve got an old jeep rigged up, so you won’t have to do any walking. We can bring your electric blanket, and I’ve made sure the gate guards won’t stop us.”
Nausea gripped me, and I leaned over the side of the bed to where a pre-positioned plastic bucket sat. No mater how many times it happened, the bile always tasted horrible, and there were more bloody flecks in it today than usual.
How many more mornings do I have? At what point am I going to go to sleep and never wake up? When will they start tying me down at night, just in case I turn?
As soon as it stopped, I spat in contempt, and nodded. “Fine. If you can get me out of here, I’ll go.”
I half expected her countenance to brighten, an oblivious, pleased smile to come to Jamie’s face, but instead she seemed to flinch at my answer, as if she could tell my irritability was aimed her way. “I’ll find you some boots.”
The process took longer than I thought, but with her help, I managed to struggle into my old clothes, covered in layers as though it were freezing outside. Everyone else wore light jackets perfect for the warm autumn day, and I looked with longing at the thin coats, wishing I could feel so warm with so little again. Jamie sat me in my wheelchair and wheeled me out with a blanket laid over my clothes so that none of the nurses suspected a thing. In fifteen minutes’ time, we were out on the gravel path, rattling along toward Carnivore Cove.
I hadn’t been to this place very often, and with the warm mid-morning sun beaming down, it was almost a tolerable journey. Carnivore Cove had high electrified fences with barded wire at the top, and a square two-story building in the middle of the paddocks where guests would have congregated to look through stationary binoculars on the observation deck. An old cast iron grilling station sat in the back of the upper deck, once used to cook fresh burgers for tourists. All the carnivores had been released into the wild a long time ago, and now the pens were occupied by more docile sheep, goats, and cattle. Researchers milled about here and there, intermixed with workers and a few rangers either doing building maintenance, animal care, or visiting in between shifts.
Jamie pushed me around the side of the building, and up to a rusty, dented jeep four-door, most of its white paint chipped and peeling. The poor car looked to be on its last legs, with bald tires, a broken headlight, and cracks in the windshield.
Is it even going to run?
At my incredulous glance, Jamie held up a hand to signal patience as she pried open the passenger side door. “I know, I know. But this way no one will notice it’s missing. As long as we don’t strain her too much, she’ll get us there.”
Skeptical, but too far in to back out now, I let her hoist me into the torn, musty bucket seat.
Layers of dried mud coated the crumbling floor mats, and the interior reeked of moldy hay. Jamie’s knapsack lay in the back seat alongside her Kalashnikov, but my Type 9 and war belt were nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s my stuff?” I coughed on the swirling clouds of dust in the air and snatched one of the water bottles Jamie had in the center console.
She turned the key in the ignition, and I thought I saw Jamie grimace for a split second. “It’s not that far. I’ve got enough for the both of us.”
Ru-ru-ru-ru-ru-vrooom.
Under the warped hood, the jeep’s engine roared to life, and Jamie coaxed it out onto the gravel path with delicate taps on the accelerator.
True to her word, I found myself surprised at how few looks we got driving to the front gate. Jamie waved at the guards, and the metal gates parted like steel jaws vomiting us out into the world. No one seemed to think twice as we drove down the broad lanes between the communal fields, out the perimeter gates, and into the overgrown backroads of Barron County.
In some ways, the drive was kind of nice.
My electric blanket embraced me in a sheet of gentle warmth, the plug stuck into a makeshift outlet where the old cigarette lighter had been in the dash panel. Though it tasted of dust and mold, the air gushing from the jeeps’ ancient heater was toasty warm on my legs and face, and I felt my left eyelid droop in drowsiness. Jamie stared straight ahead, her face long and drawn, as if deep in thought. Loose stones pinged on the underside of the car as we raced along, fast and nimble over the old roads, like things used to be when the lights worked, and the woods weren’t full of monsters. The sky stretched from horizon to horizon, a tapestry of fluffy white clouds and azure blue, tranquil and smooth. Yellow sunlight made the trees light up with color, and for the first time in a while, I couldn’t help but smile.
It’s so pretty here. I’m going to miss seeing that. Maybe wherever dead people go will have pretty trees too.
A gentle squeeze on my left shoulder brought my eye back open, and I realized we were no longer moving.
Jamie made a weak smile and rubbed at my arm in an affectionate way. “We’re here.”
I yawned, squinted out my grimy window, and sat up straight. Trees lined each side of the road like a cathedral of orange, red, and gold. During my nap, I hadn’t paid any attention to where we were going, but this certainly didn’t seem right. “I thought the map said it was a big field? This can’t be it, we must have taken a wrong—”
The words caught in my throat as I turned to find Jamie hunched against the back of her seat, crystal-clear rivers gliding down both angelic cheekbones, her Beretta handgun clutched in one hand.
Oh no.
“Jamie?” I squeaked, fear coursing through me, and my guts soured like I needed to throw up again. Now it made sense, the lack of gear for me, the bizarre trip into the middle of nowhere, the rust-bucket jeep. I remembered of my intrusive thoughts, how I’d contemplated her murder, how easy it had seemed. Jame meant to get rid of me, to put me down once and for all. With me gone, she could have Chris all to herself, and no one would have to watch me slowly erode away into a ball of oily roots.
An easy death, quick and clean.
Shame coated Jamie’s irises like paint on a wall. “I . . . I need you to know that, of everyone in my life, you’ve been my best friend. You mean the world to me, Hannah. Never forget that.”
But you’re going to shoot me.
Terror soared in my mind, and I eyed the gun, my pulse pounding. “Jamie please, wha . . . what are you doing?”
Fresh cascades of sadness spilled off her chin, and Jamie shut both eyes to take in a deep breath. “What I have to.”
She stuck the gun out her window, barrel to the sky, and pulled the trigger.
Bang.
Frozen in place, I stared at her, puzzled. Why shoot the sky? Did she not intend to kill me? Was this some kind of suicidal duet on her part? What was she hoping to attract in broad daylight?
Click.
Behind me, the passenger door swung open, and four sets of hands seized my arms and legs.
I tried to scream, but a gloved hand covered my mouth, and the world blurred as I was dragged from the vehicle. Black combat boots filled my scope of vision, and I was pushed to the hard ground face-first. Over a dozen figures emerged from the surrounding trees, and I saw gray uniforms, along with Kevlar helmets, armored vests, and matching M4 carbines.
ELSAR.
We’d walked right into a roadblock.
“Easy, easy.” A male voice grunted while the hands pinned my limbs to stop me from thrashing. A pair of leathery, flexible cuffs were tightened around my wrists and ankles, while someone else searched my pockets with meticulous precision. “Just calm down, alright? You’re going to hurt yourself unless you stay still.”
“Jamie!” I wrenched my mouth free of the glove and cried out at the top of my lungs.
An engine rumbled somewhere nearby, tires crunching over the gravel as a column of Humvees came into view up the road, painted gray like the soldiers. A pair of familiar boots came around the front of the jeep, and the khaki knees crouched down next to my head.
“I’m here.” Wavering with emotion, her voice came as a hoarse whisper, and Jamie held my head in both hands. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”
What is this?
My bonds tightened, and I arched my head back to look up at her in shock, Jamie’s gun still on her hip, her hands uncuffed. “Jamie, what’s going on? You have to get me loose, we have to get out of here—”
“Hannah, listen to me.” Her shoulders slumped in guilt, and she brushed some hairs out of my face as her tone cracked like a glass. “You can’t fight them, okay? Just do what they tell you to, and everything will be fine.”
More fingers parted the hair at the back of my skull, and Jamie’s clung to my head as she winced.
“Deep breath in.” She bowed her head as if she couldn’t bear to watch.
I opened my mouth to ask why this was happening, and pain exploded in the back of my brain.
An electric zap ripped through me, paralyzing my body from head to toe, and I screamed in torment. Images flashed before my mind’s eye, too fast for me to see clearly, the whispers in my head screeching along with me in a haunting synchronization.
Beep-beep.
The voltage ended in an industrial chirp, and two sharp bits of cold withdrew from my skin, a bandage pressed to the back of my head.
“That’s a match.” At the confirmation, one of the soldiers stood, and keyed his radio. “Base, this is Harvester Five-Actual. Target secured, ID positive. One viable Type 6 female, condition bravo, how copy, over?”
A muffled voice blared a reply from their radios, just loud enough for me to hear over the ringing in my ears. “Solid copy Harvester Five-Actual, you are clear for exfil to the green zone. Secure all assets and extract. Base out.”
Jamie helped them stand me up, more hands supporting me so I wouldn’t fall, and it hit me why she wasn’t being arrested as well.
It’s not an ambush . . . it’s an exchange.
“Don’t let them take me.” I pleaded, too weak to struggle anymore, doing my best to catch Jamie’s eye again. “I’m sorry, whatever I did I’m sorry! Just don’t do this to me, Jamie please!”
She wrapped me in a tight hug and Jamie gasped between her own sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so s-sorry, Hannah. This is the only way.”
“Time to go.” His face covered in camouflage face paint, the soldier who had called on the radio tapped his watch with impatience. “Where’s our package? You’ve got two minutes.”
Daubing at her face with her uniform sleeve, Jamie stalked back to the jeep, and returned with her knapsack.
As she unzipped it with hurried fingers, out came a familiar black plastic case, white military-style numbers painted on the lid.
LDB01106.
This isn’t real. It isn’t real, it’s a nightmare. Please, God, let this be a nightmare.
Reality sank in, and I choked down a sob. I’d been wrong about Chris, wrong about the key, wrong about everything. In my foolish desire to fix things, I had done exactly what Carter warned me not to; trusted someone, someone I thought was my friend, someone I believed in without question. My investigation into the missing beacon had been doomed from the start, all because I never thought to give my closet a thorough search. But worst of all was the knowledge that I never had to look for the spy.
She’d been sleeping in my room the entire time.
Jamie held the box out to the soldier, but jerked it back the moment he reached for it. “You’d better not hurt her.”
He pried the case from her hands, and the man shrugged as he opened the case to check its contents. “Not my call, kid. I’m not the one paying for her. You got the key?”
She glowered, and Jamie crossed her arms as if she were haggling in the market. “You’ll get it once I hear things worked out. Not a second sooner. So, tell your boss to be nice.”
At that, the soldier snorted, and waved to his men who propped me up in their meaty fists. “Let’s move out.”
I can’t believe this is happening.
Completely shattered inside, I threw one last look toward my best friend as she let them take me away, hot tears running from my left eye, and a gooey stream of something else leaking from the bandage over my right. “Jamie, please!”
Her lips twisted into a broken sob, and Jamie covered her face with both hands to rush back to the jeep.
A black cloth bag slid over my head, and my legs lifted off the gravel as the ELSAR mercenaries tossed me into the back of a waiting truck.