Being Emerald (19 page)

She stooped and listened intently. The crying came up through the vent blowing cool air.

It was an automatic action on her part to leave the bathroom and follow the sound. She opened the door of the emergency stairwell and listened again. Yes, definitely babies, plural, coming from below.

She descended the concrete stairs, trying to quiet the echo of her footfalls. The drab green walls in combination with the fluorescent lighting gave the stairwell an eerie vibe. Arriving at the first floor exit, she peeked her head out and found the building’s lobby, quiet and empty. She popped her head back into the stairwell and looked around.

Tucked under the last flight of stairs was a door clearly marked as an emergency exit, stating an alarm would sound if opened. With her ear pressed against it, she heard muffled cries and happy squeals of older children. She stepped back. There shouldn’t be children on the Peacekeeper’s Compound. She stared at the emergency exit for only a few seconds more before she impulsively pushed the door open. No alarm sounded.

She stepped into the little vestibule and hopped past another door propped open with a chair. The stark white corridor was lined with doors. The sounds of children behind them filled the space. She crept forward, passing childlike scenes of animals and cartoon characters lining the walls.

This place looked like a daycare. Farther down, she passed a wall covered with construction paper kites obviously made by small hands. A child’s name was printed on the tail of each. She made a quick count of rows and multiplied. Almost a hundred were displayed.

Next, a half-windowed wall gave a view of infants lined up in cribs. She peeked for a handful of seconds and watched the backs of two women wearing identical blue dresses moving from baby to baby, changing diapers.

A door opened further down the hall and her attention was ripped from the scene. A young boy, grinning a gap-toothed smile pushed through it, followed by another and another. The little men wore the same outfits and all had brilliant blue eyes and hair whiter than any she’d ever seen. Laila ducked into an unlocked door as a young woman followed the line of boys. Scanning the bunk bed lined room behind her, she released a breath of relief. She was alone. What the hell was she doing? She needed to get out. Popping her head quickly into the hallway, she found it empty. She made a beeline toward the emergency exit door and shot through it as quietly as she could.

Taking the steps two at a time, she reached her floor, and flew through the door to her office. Her heart thudded and blood whooshed in her ears as she hustled around her desk and sat. A couple little tasks for the Resistance, and she thought she was a spy. She was either brave as shit or totally insane. She had little experience with brave, so yeah…insane. She unclenched her fists from the arms of her chair. Her breathing eased up to the point it didn’t sound like she’d been running. She had not been seen. She might be okay.

A faraway sound of a door closing had her tensing again, muscles rigid, poised to fight if she had to. But no one came.

All those children, mirror images of each other. And the dormitory lined with little beds and dressers. She tried to piece together who they were and why they’d been there and came up with zip.

Her little jaunt rattled her on a day she didn’t need any surprises.

Everything had been so perfect when she’d left Rock. She fingered the choker he’d locked around her neck before they’d separated for the day and concentrated on re-gaining the cool confidence she’d built. However, that wasn’t going to happen. It was almost time.

Laila left her tiny workspace as the sun set. She met Garret a quarter mile away, just outside the wooded area that lined the fence surrounding New Atlanta. They silently walked the tree line together.

Darkness solidified as they slid through the night, keeping the dark woods to their left. The air was considerably cooler than it had been, and Laila was thankful. After a long, crazy day of juggling tasks and preparing for mission departure the next morning, she was running on fumes.

She and Garret didn’t speak. She figured he was probably just as scared as she was. But she needed his protection, and his presence would prevent other Guardsmen who might see her out after curfew from bothering her.

She scanned the streets ceaselessly. They were deserted, as usual.

After walking almost an hour, they slipped easily into the Sapphire Zone through a well hidden part of the fence where the chain link was no longer attached to its pole, making it easy to peel the metal back and slip through. It seemed like she’d lived an extra lifetime since she’d been in the Sapphire Zone. In reality, it had only been a few months.

They continued to lurk in the shadows, skimming the city’s outside wall and avoiding main streets and guard posts.

When they neared the rendezvous point, Garret forged ahead, and she followed in his wake through the overgrown vegetation to the fence line delineating New Atlanta from the Onyx Zone.

“Laila?”

She couldn’t yet see the speaker. “Yes. Come on.”

The woman approached. She eyed Garret, who wore his Guard uniform and had his rifle tucked under his arm. “You Garrett?” the shadowy woman whispered.

His eyes widened. Laila knew his thoughts. Anybody in connection with the Resistance who knew his name was dangerous to his wellbeing. He scowled at her. “Who are you?”

She approached him. “I have a message from your mother.”

Garrett’s spine straightened, an infinitesimal reaction to the mention of his mother. “She made me memorize and recite it in front of her before I left for the mission. She wanted to make sure I’d get it right.”

Garrett smiled and his shoulders sank slightly. “All right.”

She stepped forward, cradled both sides of his face and looked directly into his eyes. “I am gone from New Atlanta, my son. Jordan’s relocation center will know where I’ve gone. Live safe and be well until we meet again.” Then she went up on tiptoe, angled his face down toward her, and kissed him on the forehead. When she let go of his face, she stepped away and grasped Laila’s hand.

Garret smiled down at her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“We’ve got over an hour to walk,” Laila whispered. “I have to let go of your hand. Holding hands is a dead giveaway you don’t belong here.” Their hands slipped apart and they walked side-by-side out of the tree line. Garret closed ranks behind them.

They slinked silently through shadows and residential streets, until Garret split away from them without a word when they were near her home. The mystery woman’s head swiveled endlessly as she stared wide-eyed at the magnificent houses sitting back from the street, like lazy giants hiding among the tall pines.

“Will we be going by Rock’s house?”

The hair on the back of Laila’s neck stood on end. This was wrong. This woman should not know Rock was an operative in the Emerald cell.

“You know Rock?”

She nodded.

“How?” Laila knew the answer to her question by the woman’s change of energy. She became serene. The worry in her features smoothed. Her small, almost secret, smile followed a wild blush.

“I’m Journey. Rock was my roommate in Circle City.”

Laila’s stomach dropped. “Oh.” The first day she’d spent with Rock, he’d told her he still loved this woman. She was a mouse. Her meek voice and non-threatening aura would trigger every one of his protective instincts.

Just thinking about Rock touching this woman like he touched her made her more than jealous. She felt violent, wanting to take Journey down with one of the moves Rock had shown her on the mats. “I was hoping I might get the chance to see him tonight,” Journey said sheepishly.

“I don’t think he’s home.” Soon they approached Rock’s house. “Sorry.” Laila pointed at the dark, empty structure. “His truck isn’t there.”

Journey deflated. “Oh.” She looked pitiful, like she was going to cry.

Laila softened. “I’ll tell him I saw you.”

She pointed to her own driveway on the other side of the street, and they walked together in the shadows to her back door. They entered the house without turning on a light, and Laila guided Journey to the basement. She flipped on the lights. “We can talk freely here.”

“How is he? Does he seem happy?” Journey asked.

“Uh, happy is not the word I’d use to describe Rock. Bossy seems more accurate.”

Journey giggled. “Then, yes, it sounds like he’s happy. Sometimes it’s hard to tell what you’re going to get with him. I’d heard he still wasn’t doing well, but it’s been almost two months since I’ve seen Big Rock.” Journey tilted her head and looked Laila up and down. “It seems like things have changed.” Journey’s gaze landed on the choker around her neck. She took in a quick breath, her jaw dropping open. The mousy woman slowly lifted her hand and fingered the heavy chain Rock had given her. “He loves you,” she said, lowering her hand and meeting Laila’s gaze. “I’m so glad.” She said the words in a sweet, soft voice. Journey had a gentle soul. It was her vibration, and it seemed absolutely impossible to dislike this little girl-woman.

“His father told me he’s been inconsolable and lonely since Emily died.”

“Emily. The name tattooed on his chest, Emily?”

Journey pursed her lips. “He hasn’t told you?”

“No.”

“He will.”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“It’s not my story to tell.”

Laila was about to say something brilliant to try to get Journey to spill, but she didn’t get the chance.

“You’re still a little confused, aren’t you?”

“Confused?”

“Yeah. About Rock. Not totally sure what’s going on…. Con-fused,” Journey said slowly.

“Yeah.”

“When I landed on his doorstep,” Journey said as she walked into the little nook that held her cot, looking at the items Laila’d left to help her pass the hours. “I didn’t know it at the time, but I had won the lottery. It took almost a year to truly trust what I’d fallen into.”

Journey looked at her speculatively. “Has he fucked you yet?”

“Not in the traditional sense, no.”

Journey smiled, and Laila interpreted it in the worst possible way. Maybe she could scrape up a little dislike for the woman.

“Let me give you a piece of advice. Stop trying. Just accept what he gives you.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“He needs to make the decisions. If you love the man, which it looks like you do, you just have to go with it. Just submit and see what happens.”

Laila’s stomach twirled at the thought. She’d done that just recently.

“He already thinks of you as his, or you wouldn’t be wearing that.” She motioned to the chain tightly encircling Laila’s neck.

“Do you have one?”

“No. Never. I was his roommate. He took care of me, loved me. But he wasn’t in love with me. “I’ll spend the rest of my life looking for someone who will love me like”—she pointed to Laila’s choker again—“that.” She shrugged. “So far, no luck.” She picked up a book Laila had left there. “Thank you for this. I don’t think I’ve held a paper book since I was in elementary school.”

“You’re welcome.”

Journey sat on the end of the bed. “Just remember that man is happiest when he’s taking care of his girls, or in this case, girl. Surrender and he’ll take you places you didn’t even know existed.” Journey smiled. “You’re going to end up doing it anyway, so you might as well cut to the chase.”

Laila smiled back. “That sure, huh?”

Journey nodded. “That sure.”

Laila intentionally brightened her tone. “I didn’t know if you’d be staying here or taking the speaker and going somewhere else, so I covered the windows down here. No light shows to the outside.”

Journey lifted her arm and showed off a sapphire tattoo so new it hadn’t stopped bleeding. “As soon as I find out who I am, I’ll be leaving. I’m taking a woman’s place in Sapphire, assuming her identity. She’s leaving to start a new life in Onyx, and I’m starting a new life, too. I’m not sure of the details yet so I’ll be staying here until I’m contacted.” Journey sighed, and her expression fell. “You’re leaving tomorrow.” Her eyes were sad. “It would have been nice to have a sister again.”

“We will be back, Journey. You’ll see both of us again.”

Journey gave her a polite smile and didn’t reply.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Just in case. I need him to know something.” Journey’s eyes watered as she drew in a breath through her nostrils and let it out of her mouth slowly. “It’s personal. I totally understand if you don’t feel right about it.”

“You can trust me to deliver it.”

Rock didn’t like being apart from Laila, even if it was for only a night. Since her final preparations kept her working late, he’d found himself back at OZ, giving the trucks the once over. He loaded the gasoline additives himself as an added precaution in case someone was working against them. Now, he lay on his bedroll with a bird’s eye view, making sure there was no sabotage, and keeping an eye out for Laila. A part of him hoped she was having as much difficulty being without him as he was. Maybe she’d make the trip to the compound late at night instead of early the next morning. Either way, the fact he was getting no sleep unless Laila was beside him was becoming glaringly obvious.

Her presence had become a habit. It didn’t matter that he knew where she was and had reasons to be away from him. No. It didn’t matter at all. He touched his earbud. “Call Laila.”

She didn’t answer. He waited a full minute before he touched it again. “Com Laila.” He paused. “Are you okay?”

He waited. He’d instructed her to sleep with her earbud in tonight since they’d be separated. His chest became incrementally tighter with each silent minute he waited to hear back from her.

Finally, when he couldn’t stand the silence any longer, he stood, giving up his vigil and deciding instead to make sure Laila was okay. Even if she only slept through his attempts at contacting her, making sure she was safe was imperative if he wanted to get in a few hours of sleep before leaving the city.

The drive to their neighborhood was quick, and he pulled into her driveway. Her front door was locked. He didn’t hesitate and shouldered it hard until the jamb gave way and the door flew open.