Deviants (29 page)

I stand and pull him into a hug. “Dad will take care of you and”—I pull back and smile—“you’re old enough to take care of yourself.”

“That’s not the point.”

“I need to do this, Drake. I
want
to. Don’t worry. I’ll see you again soon.” But I have no idea when, and that question
stabs me. I smile and fake-punch him in the arm. “Plus, if I don’t go back to Haven, who’s going to watch out for Jayma?”

At her name, longing flashes in Drake’s eyes, and I hug him again. “I might not even get as far as Haven. If we aren’t one hundred percent certain they still think I’m kidnapped, I’ll come straight back with Burn.”

“No,” Drake says. “If they’ve figured out you weren’t kidnapped, they’ll—”

“That won’t happen.” I cut him off and pick up my pack. The sky outside our window is pink with morning light.

Burn will be here any moment.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

^B
URN WASN
’
T KIDDING
when he boasted to Rolph that he could get me safely to Haven. We moved swiftly, me clinging to his back when he sensed Shredders around and had to run more quickly than my shorter legs can move. We reached the mouth of the tunnels just after dark last night, in less than half the time it took us to get from here to the Settlement.

We followed different tunnels this time—not that I can tell in the dark. Twice, we’ve come close to encountering Comps, but Burn heard them coming, long before their heavy steps were audible to me, and we hid while they passed.

In our cramped hiding spaces, Burn was careful not to touch me but I felt the constant electric pull between us, thrilling and dangerous and sad. A reminder of what can’t be. Now we’ve reached our destination, nerves buzz inside me and my knees shake. Even though I don’t feel my curse coming on, I don’t dare look Burn in the eye.

He’s led me to a ladder under an alley in the factory district at the far northeast corner of Haven. If I go up now, in the middle of the night shift, it’s unlikely that anyone will see me coming out from the metal cover that Burn calls a manhole. He’s already moved it to the side. The plan is for me to lie on the road, pretending to be asleep or unconscious until somebody finds me. Once I’m found, I’ll claim I was knocked out and dumped there.

“Ready?” he asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He hands me my pack, after making sure it has no traces of dust or food from the Settlement. “And your cover story?”

“I know it by rote.” On our journey, he made me recite it over and over until he was satisfied I could deliver it without hesitation and without sounding rehearsed.

“So, I guess this is good-bye.” I reach toward him.

He steps back. “Yup.”

My heart pinches. Other than when I was riding on his back, we haven’t laid a hand on each other since that night on the rock, and I ache for his touch.

I’m hoping he’ll be the Extractor I’m paired with—the one who’ll smuggle the Deviants I contact out of Haven. But when I told Rolph that one of my conditions of going undercover was working with Burn, he made it clear that wasn’t a demand I could make.

My first mission is to reintegrate into my life in Haven and to regain Cal’s trust. After all that’s happened, my being Cal’s girlfriend seems strange, like the girl who wore that bracelet was another person.

I’m to await further instructions before attempting to identify or contact any Deviants. Working undercover against Management will be dangerous, but right now I’m more nervous about facing Cal than facing the Comps.

Burn’s hand rises, and drawing a ragged breath I close my eyes, tip my face up to meet his caress, maybe his kiss. One small kiss won’t bring out his beast, and even if it might, it feels worth the risk.

His thumb traces down my cheek and my lips twitch and tingle, but instead of kissing me, he slides his thumb over my forehead.

“That’s better,” he says gruffly.

I open my eyes. “What?”

“If they’re going to believe you’ve been held hostage in a factory’s storage bin, you need to look dirty. If there’s some soot on the road up there, grind some into your clothes before you fall asleep.”

“Good idea.” I nod. “Thanks for getting me here safely.”

His jaw twitches and I want to reach up to quiet the tense muscles, trace my lips over the stubble growing on his upper lip—but I don’t. Time to let go of foolish fantasies. Not only are we both soldiers, there’s no sense in pretending we could ever fall in love.

Not only will we be separated physically—him unable to enter the city I live in, me unable to leave it—we both know the real dangers of us being together. If Burn or I lose control of our emotions, one or both of us will die.

“Thanks for bringing me here. For everything.”

He looks down.

Unable to resist, I squeeze his lower arm before turning to climb.

I’m not two rungs up when he takes my hand off the ladder, spins me, and pulls me into an embrace. My body’s dwarfed inside his arms, my feet well off the ground, and I bury my face in his neck to memorize his scent.

“Keep safe,” he says. “Don’t take chances.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

He helps me back onto the ladder and I climb.

“And Glory,” he calls after me. “Keep your guard up with Cal.”

Nerves scramble inside me as he reminds me that from this moment forward I’m going to have to pretend to love Cal again, pretend he’s the one that I want. Trying to think of something reassuring to say, I turn down to look at Burn one last time—but he’s gone.

I continue my ascent into the place I used to equate with safety. Not that my life ever felt safe, but I did once believe that my life inside Haven was the only way to stay safe, the only way to survive. Haven Equals Safety.

Ha.

Haven equals nothing but danger.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

^T
HE SUN TURNED
on at least fifteen minutes ago, and I watch through squinted eyes as the dark alley brightens and shadows grow on the wall across from me. For Burn’s plan to work, it’s better if I appear unconscious, or at least asleep, when I’m found. The surface beneath me is hard and my body’s aching to move. But I can’t.

Burn was certain that a Comp patrol would pass before the sun came on, and now I’m afraid that one of the factory workers will find me instead. Nerves stir in my stomach. Being found by the Comps terrifies me, but they’re more likely to believe my story if they find me themselves.

Heavy footsteps sound at the far end of the alley. I force my eyes all the way shut and will my body to relax. My heart’s racing but I hope no one can tell by looking.

“Hey.” A voice booms. “What are you doing there?”

I don’t move.

“Shift one doesn’t start for an hour. Access to this alley is restricted except during shift change.”

My muscles threaten to twitch, but I stay still as heavy boots stomp toward me. More than one Comp from the sound of it.

“Get up.” One of them nudges me with his boot and I roll to the side.

A hand slaps my face and I open my eyes, squinting against the light of a torch the Comp’s shining into my eyes.

“Where am I?” I mumble, grateful my voice sounds hoarse. No wonder. I can’t remember the last time I drank.

“What are you doing here?” the Comp asks. “What’s your employee number?”

“It’s her,” another Comp says and moves into view above me. “It’s the girl who was kidnapped.”

I rise up onto one elbow, the pavement scraping my skin. I look around, confused.

The first Comp grabs me under the arms and lifts me to my feet. His armored gloves pinch my skin. “How did you get here?”

I shake my head and look around in wonder. Then I smile, reach for the Comp and hug him. “I’m free. He let me go. Thank Haven.” I let myself collapse in his arms. “Haven Equals Safety.”

The other Comp grabs me and pushes me back against the wall. “Who held you? Where? What did he say? Why were you gone for so long?”

Eyes wide, it’s not hard to appear frightened, and I shake my head without saying a word.

The two Comps leave me for a moment and talk quietly to each other. I struggle to hear.

“We need to take her to Headquarters,” one says.

“No one can see her,” says the other. “Gag her. Cover her face.”

I press against the wall of my small cell in the Compliance Detention Center. Coming back was a mistake. I’ve been interrogated for hours and they still don’t believe me.

When I was brought into the building, they took all my things, including my clothes. They gave those back after spraying me with a forceful dust decontamination hose, not listening when I insisted I’d never been Outside. Then they led me into a small room, with very bright lights and cameras in all eight corners, pointing straight at the chair they sat me on. For hours, voices from outside the room bombarded me with the same questions over and over, until my voice was raw and my eyes stung from the brightness and my inability to hold back my fear.

Who took me? Where was I held? Am I a Deviant? Do I know any Deviants? How long have I known I was Deviant? Did my captors hurt me? Why did they take me? Why was I gone for so long? Why did they let me go?

And I repeat the same answers. A Deviant terrorist kidnapped me. He held me in a small box. I was blindfolded the whole time. I don’t know where I was. I am not a Deviant. I have never been a Deviant. I assume the man who took me was a Deviant. I did not witness his specific Deviance but he was strong. He tried to convert me. He wanted me
to turn against Haven, to become a terrorist, but I refused. He finally gave up and dumped me in the alley where I was found.

Over and over the same lies.

By the twentieth time I actually believe them. By the thirtieth, the lies seem more real than Burn or my father, more credible than the Settlement or seeing my brother walk.

A shadow passes in front of a small slot in the wooden door of my cell. The lock turns.

I tense.

“Hello, Glory.”

It’s Mr. Belando. The Junior VP of Compliance I met with Cal.

I don’t answer.

“I hope you haven’t been hurt.”

I don’t move. If they’ve sent him, I’m in more trouble than I thought. They don’t believe me. I’ll be terminated—expunged if I’m lucky.

He sets down a chair, then closes the door behind him and sits directly opposite me.

“You’ve suffered a horrible ordeal,” he says. “You must have been terrified.”

I stay silent.

“Cal wants to see you.”

I snap my head up.

He smiles. “He’s been promoted, you know.”

My teeth worry my lip.

“In recognition for the role he played in tracking your kidnapper into the tunnels, he was given the opportunity
to participate in the Entrance Trials. He succeeded. First in his group. He starts Compliance Officer Training next week.”

My stomach flips but I hide my reaction. Cal will be a Comp. It’s what he hoped for when he joined the Jecs, yet I can’t feel happy. He’ll be an enforcer for an organization I’ve vowed to overturn. Assuming I live long enough, once Cal’s a Comp I’ll be dating the enemy.

Mr. Belando crosses his legs and leans back. “Do you trust me?”

I nod.

“Good,” he says. “Because I have a proposition. A deal that will only hold if we fully trust each other.”

I rub my finger where my mother’s ring used to be and my heart rate slows.

“You will enter Compliance Officer Training, too.”

He’s not serious. It’s a trick. He knows the truth about my alleged kidnapping and is trying to gain a confession.

“You’ll be a valuable asset for the Compliance Department and, more importantly, a valuable asset for me.”

It must be a trick but I’m not sure what kind. “How could I be valuable?”

He smiles, broadly. “So you
can
still speak.”

I narrow my eyes.

“When you were held hostage, you gained insight into the terrorists’ organization, their methods, their motives.” He uncrosses his legs and leans toward me. “Yes?”

It doesn’t take much to fake a shiver. “They’re crazy and dangerous.”

“Of course they are.” He tugs his chair forward and its legs scrape the floor. “That’s what you can contribute to the Comps: Deviant Intelligence. No one else has had the exposure to them that you have. You’ll work undercover. Seek out traitors. And if you can draw the terrorists’ attention again, you will convince them you’ve changed your mind, that you support their cause. You will infiltrate their organization, learn their secrets, work against them from the inside.”

“Why me?”

“I’ve checked your performance evaluations, your family history. And I’ve seen enough here today to be sure you’re no Deviant.” My stomach clenches as he pauses.

He shifts in his chair and glares at me. “Your Deviant father killed your mother and brother. You have more reason than most to hate them.”

“I do hate them.”

“Of course you do.”

I draw a deep breath. The danger in my life just expanded. I’m already working undercover for the Freedom Army.

Besides, I don’t trust what Mr. Belando’s said. My being a Comp doesn’t make sense. I’d never get in.

“But I’m not strong enough. I’ll never get past the Entrance Trials.” Every trial at least one candidate dies, and more die during training.

His back stiffens. “I’m the Junior VP of the Compliance Department. If I want you accepted to the training program, you’ll be accepted, no matter what that arrogant—” His waxy lips tighten and press together, then he slides a palm over his already perfectly coifed hair. “You let me worry about that.”

“But the Entrance Trials, the selection process…” If I keep prodding, he might reveal more.

His jaw twitches. “The Compliance Officers are merely the muscle for my department. I’m in charge, not that power-hungry Recruiting Captain.” A vein protrudes, tracing a diagonal line on his forehead. “If I want you in the training program, you’re in. If I want you to graduate, you’ll graduate.”

“Yes, Sir.” I’m not sure what else to say.