Steadying her emotions, she looked at Eric. “I am sorry for causing trouble, but I will protect myself,” she stated.
Even Ellyssa could hear the monotone of her voice. It sounded heartless and cold. Robotic. She’d never really paid attention to the sound before. She shifted in her seat, trying to relax.
Eric and Brenda looked at each other, the sudden change in her demeanor surprising them. Eric lifted a shoulder and returned his attention to Ellyssa. “When Jason fully recovers, he will stand trial.”
“You have trials?”
“Of course,” said Rein. “That surprises you?”
“Yes. Society does not have lawbreakers. The gene for deviant behavior is tested in vitro, and if it is found, the baby is aborted.”
Brenda leaned forward, obviously appalled. “The woman isn’t even given a choice. It’s one of the many reasons I left.”
“Ha,” Eric said, “that’s laughable.”
Narrowing her eyes, Brenda shot him a look. “What?”
“No, not that. You misunderstand.” Eric chuckled. “You’re a criminal. And so is Woody, for that matter.”
“Hmm, you’re right,” Brenda said, settling back in the chair.
Eric turned his gaze on Ellyssa. “Doesn’t seem their way really works.”
A small smile formed on Ellyssa’s lips. “There are many flaws in society.”
“Here, we have trials. And Jason will have his chance to plead his case,” Rein continued.
“So,” Eric said to Rein, “Doc filled me in on a few of the details last night. Why don’t you finish?”
Rein launched into the story, starting with the old barn and ending with leaving the truck behind and sneaking away. As he spoke, Ellyssa’s smooth countenance melted, and she shuddered with impending horror. Sooner or later, the police would find the Renegades.
“The barn is about fifty kilometers away,” he concluded. “That’s what took us so long to return, and empty-handed.”
Eric placed his elbows on the table, clasping his hands. “They’re close.”
“We need to start evacuation procedures right away,” piped in Woody.
Ellyssa shook her head. “No. They are after me. If I turn myself in, they will go.”
“Uh-uh,” Rein protested. He turned toward her, the sunburst around his pupils darkened a shade. He gathered her hands into his. “This is your home now.”
For a moment, as the warmth of his touch singed her skin and traveled through her body, she drowned in his green pools and wanted to believe. To be part of a family, and accepted, and explore the sensations Rein evoked in her.
But she couldn’t.
The danger was too great. If the Renegades were discovered, they would be murdered.
“Do not be ridiculous, Rein,” Ellyssa said. “It is far too dangerous.”
“I agree with Ellyssa,” Brenda said.
Rein faced Brenda. “It’s not going to happen. I don’t care what you say. If it was anyone else in the community, we would protect them. Ellyssa is now part of the community, whether you,” he pointed at Brenda, “accept it or not. Jordan trusted her and made her a councilmember. We will honor his request.”
Ellyssa placed her hand on his forearm. “Rein, listen.”
A grimace tightening the corners of his mouth, he pulled away. “No,” he repeated.
Ready to argue, Ellyssa scooted her chair back, preparing to stand, but a light touch on her shoulder stopped her.
“He’s right,” Woody said.
“No, he is not,” she said. “I will do what I have to do.”
“Wait a minute,” Woody said, cutting Rein off in the middle of an objection. “They know we’re here.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It has been weeks. They should have moved on. They haven’t.”
“That does not prove anything.”
“But it does. Rein said they had dogs. They tracked your scent.”
Which stopped at the store where the Renegades found me
.
“Your scent was lost within ours,” Woody said, finishing her thought. “They might not know exactly where, but they know there is a group of us somewhere within the vicinity.”
“But, if I turn myself in…”
“Do you honestly think they will stop the search for us?”
Ellyssa didn’t answer. She knew they wouldn’t.
“Time to vote,” Rein said, a smile of satisfaction spread across his face.
“No. It is my decision.”
“Oh no, it’s not. We do this the democratic way.”
Her mouth parted in protest, but Rein held his hand up.
“You accepted the invitation to be part of the council. You follow the rules.” Rein turned toward the others. “All in favor of protecting a member of the community?”
Rein, Woody, and Eric raised their hands.
“Brenda?”
The middle-aged female looked at Ellyssa, sorrow tugging her doe-like eyes. “I’m sorry, but no. I think it’s better for you to leave.”
“Rein, I agree. Maybe if I go to them, I can lead them from you.”
“Majority rules.”
A sliver of hope entered. “What about Mathew? And Jason? They have not voted.”
“Doc’s vote is for you to stay, and Jason is temporarily suspended from his duties,” Woody said. “Ellyssa, you know as well as I do that nothing you say will stop them from looking.”
“There might be—”
He patted her hand. “You’re one of us now. Please.”
Ellyssa closed her eyes, wishing for a moment that she’d never followed Jeremy’s phantom voice.
“We need to hold a community meeting. Evacuation plans need to be implemented,” said Eric.
As their voices droned on about a section of the cave that needed preparation, Ellyssa listened halfheartedly. She should just leave and lead the
Gestapo
away on a fake trail. It would buy the Renegades time to relocate before the police came back to exterminate them.
Ellyssa’s eyes moved from one face to the other as the members discussed plans. None of them had any idea how relentless her father was. Dr. Hirch wouldn’t stop until she was back in his hands; he wouldn’t stop until they had been annihilated.
She had inadvertently signed these people’s death warrants.
29
Hunched over, Angela darted behind an overgrown bush. She had her assigned electroshock weapon drawn, as if that would do any good. Even with the knowledge of Renegades definitely hiding in the forest, Dr. Hirch still forbade the use of guns, fearing an accidental shooting of his precious children. At least she had a real gun strapped to her ankle just in case she ran into one of the lowlifes. To hell with the consequences, they were armed.
She looked over her shoulder to see if Dyllon was in position. With a lift of his head, Dyllon acknowledged he was ready, then ducked behind a pile of rumpled tin sheets and rusted nails, the remnants of an old shed. A large oak grew from within the rubble.
The house hadn’t fared much better. The roof was nonexistent. As for the walls, only one still remained partially erect, crumbling bricks threatening to collapse at any moment. A variety of bushes and plants had taken root, slowly returning the man-made structure to nature.
She wished she’d thought better of listening to Micah. After all, he had been wrong about Davis. If she were to be truthful, her initial instincts had been wrong about the ranger, too.
The ranger had gone to Kansas City to visit his parents, just as he had said. The police who had conducted the interviews had found nothing suspicious, except that the ranger had loaded two small boxes into his truck before he’d left. Most likely supplies, and hardly enough to support a community of Renegades. Davis was nothing more than a quiet man who kept to himself. No wonder he was a park ranger. A perfect predetermined career for him.
Not only had The Center’s child screwed up her revenge upon Ellyssa, he’d screwed up her whole investigation, making her second guess herself by listening to him. First he wanted to waste time tailing Davis, then he insisted they wasted more time driving around, sightseeing.
Squatting behind a bush, Angela faced the woods. Trees grew densely around the overgrown field. She could make out a couple of rusted metal rods, leftovers of an old fence, poking from the ground.
They were wasting time. If not for Micah, they could be doing something more productive, like looking for clues to where Ellyssa hid. Instead, they were on this wild goose chase that Micah refused to talk about.
Angela had to admit, though, at first she had been convinced Micah had found something. After he had ordered Captain Jones to stop, he’d popped out of the vehicle to touch a toppled tree. Then Micah’s eyes leveled with hers, and he told her this was the place. After the drive had been cleared, there were signs of tire tracks and clumps of crushed grass. For the first time in days, Angela’s interest had been piqued and her hopes had soared.
Now though, after seeing the ruins of the old farm, she began to doubt. There was no way this wreckage held a secret storage cache.
She glanced at Micah, who had ignored her orders to advance slowly. His blond hair reflected the light of the Indian summer sun as he kicked the wreckage. He glanced at her before bending over and coming up with what looked like the edge of a broken tin sheet in his hand. Smugness traveled across his face before it faded. On first glance, she thought it was debris, but then she noticed the arc in which it moved, as if attached to hinges. His head bobbed out of sight, she heard the thud of the door closing.
“Dyllon,” she beckoned, while rounding the heap to where Micah had just stood.
Dyllon trotted after her, his forehead bunched together. She knelt on her haunches, poking through the ruins. Bricks, dead branches, and other trash littered the ground around the tin sheet. At first glance, the heap looked as if it was nothing more than rubble, but when Angela really looked at it, she saw the telltale signs. The bricks were arranged in staggering stacks, the branches aligned to hide the entrance. She shook her head and stood.
Once again, if it hadn’t been for Micah, she would never have seen it, mistaking the debris for what it appeared like, a mound of scrap. Although she hated The Center’s children, she had to admit their extraordinary abilities were useful.
“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.