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Authors: Charity Tinnin

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BOOK: Haunted (State v. Sefore)
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Her mental filter malfunctioned. “The whole concept of our futures being decided by how well we perform on demand makes me sick.”

His mouth leveled out, and he grew still. His furrowed brows hinted at a deeper reaction. After a moment, he asked, “Someone close to you?”

“What?”

“Someone you care about is capable of more than their chosen placement?”

“Well, yes, but I’ve always disliked the premise behind the GAP.” She shifted, brushing invisible lint from her scrubs. He was a stranger, and they were standing in a government-run facility. “Then again, I’m just a teenager. What do I know?”

She glanced around the corridors, but no one else was close enough to overhear their conversation. She exhaled and searched Noah’s face. What was he thinking? He might be just a CNA, but it didn’t mean he could be trusted. Time to change the subject.

“Enough about me. Why would you ever choose to leave sunny Coastal South West for the fickle east coast, especially considering the paperwork involved in requesting re-assignment?” She plopped down in one of the chairs behind the nurses’ station.

“So, you did engage in some eavesdropping earlier.” He grinned, his teeth gleaming straight and white. “Sunny CSW’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Besides, I grew up in Coastal South East, so I’m used to the ‘fickle east coast,’ even if I might describe it as hot and muggy.”

“Well, I know you didn’t grow up here, so what metro area are you from?”

“MA-16. We lived in a small suburb about twenty minutes from the center. It’s one of the few MAs with surviving suburbs. Neighborhoods, small shopping centers, we even had our own baseball park.”

“So why move away? Sounds like you loved it.”

His voice dropped. “No one left to stay for.”

Given his tone, she probably shouldn’t push, but … “No family?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped. “An older brother, but our relationship is … complicated.”

“My parents are dead too.” She slapped a hand over her mouth. What had possessed her to share that? Had his presence short-circuited her filter for good?

His chin dipped. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry, Maddison.”

His sympathy made her throat tighten. Only a handful of people offered their condolences after the liquidation. No one knew how to comfort her and Jakob without triggering a visitation. She understood though, really, she did. She swallowed her gratitude and squeezed out a meager “thanks” to Noah.

He opened his mouth to respond when a nurse careened around the corner. “Can I get some help from you two?”

Noah took the lead. She followed with a hand over her stomach. The butterfly had multiplied.

*

Noah shrugged on his jacket, the worn leather conformed to his shoulders. If all went as planned, he could grab something to eat on his way back to the hotel and be under the hot spray of the shower within thirty minutes. Then research. Madame Director, Nurse Walker, Nurse Gardner, and Maddison. No. Apprentice James.

She might intrigue him, he might feel empathy for her, he might even be attracted to her, but her comment about the GAP and the elevated heart rate accompanying it made one thing plain. She had to be a suspect first.

He reached his car and pressed his thumb to the ID pad. The locks clicked open. Sinking into the leather seats, he closed the door behind him.

“Start ignition.”

The car roared to life. As the seatbelt clicked behind his shoulder, he sat up to adjust the rearview mirror. Hot pink flashed in the corner, and he turned around. Maddison jogged toward a late model Chrysler. The car fit her somehow. Maybe because the blue-green color matched her eyes. He smiled as her hair swung free from the bun. It fell down her back in rich chestnut waves. Were the strands as soft as they appeared? He shook his head and made himself turn.

He had no business thinking about her like that. He was a dead man walking. Attachment to anyone was a bad idea. More importantly, she fit the recruitment profile he created for the resistance to a T. And if by some chance she wasn’t a member, she was clearly no friend of the Elite. She was going to get herself liquidated, soon if she weren’t more careful.

Taking one last look in the rearview, he deactivated the autopilot, pulled out, and headed for the beltline. As he wove through traffic, his conscience elbowed its way in between the suspicion and interest.

Any other liquidator would’ve eliminated her this afternoon. She was exactly the type of person McCray would brand a rebel. Collateral damage had a face, and it was hers. Noah was the only one who would give her the benefit of the doubt. The only one who would bother to find out where her loyalty really lay. He’d have to get close to her, continue building the trust his honesty had fostered.

Still, talking about home and Daniel in the same conversation brought up memories better left buried—memories of Mom’s apple crumble, Dad’s maps, and Daniel’s breakdown. He hadn’t been there for the last, but hearing the story from Ryan imprinted its own mental images.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter. If he’d been there …

But he hadn’t been, and he couldn’t change the past. He shifted to the far left lane and let the car race ahead of the other traffic. All he could do was move forward, and if dealing with those memories won Maddison’s trust and gave him an in with the resistance, it was worth it. If it cleared her name, even better.

His nightmares had a large enough cast already.

Chapter Three

M
addison leaned back
in the driver’s seat and rested her hands on the steering wheel. Sure, the car drove itself, but that didn’t mean a machine had complete power over her. She checked for an open lane to her right as the car sped down the on-ramp of I-440. An eighteen-wheeler barreled past on her left. Her car adjusted its speed and signaled to pull in behind the truck. If only she could feel the rush of hitting the gas pedal and weaving in and out of lanes for herself.

She slumped down in her seat. Not that autonomous cars didn’t have benefits. At the end of a long day, paying attention to the road could be dangerous at best. Taylor would no doubt be thankful for the respite between the hospital and home after her last shift. As an ER doctor, Maddison’s aunt worked twelve-hour shifts, but a staff shortage this morning meant a mandate to come in four hours earlier than normal. She would be dead on her feet when she walked in the door tonight, which left Maddison in charge of dinner.

Jakob would be home already, but the fifteen-year-old didn’t cook. Grab a bag of Doritos from the pantry? That he’d do. Maddison’s stomach rumbled. She would be ravenous by the time she came up with an idea and prepared it.

As the car slowed before a stop sign, the dark blue sticker on the sign’s bottom right corner drew Maddison’s eye. The flag-shaped sticker waved west—a symbol of a clandestine meeting. Anyone could spot signs of public resistance, if they knew what to look for. Maddison did.

She didn’t want to put her family at risk by joining the resistance, but looking the other way from those movements and their activities had become a specialty of hers. One she never would’ve cultivated before her parents’ death….

What had she been thinking about? Oh, right, dinner. Taylor would want to eat and head to bed, so takeout would be a better option. Besides, Maddison’s mouth watered at the thought of lasagna and garlic bread. Takeout it was.

After requesting the addition of a stop at La Bella Dioci, she voice commanded the radio’s volume up several decibels. She loved this song. The bass pumped, and her head bobbed to the beat. She sang along at the top of her lungs, not caring that Olivia always accused her of being off-key.

The familiar tones broke in, leaving her mouth open mid-chorus. Two beats. A nationwide announcement. She leaned closer to the speakers.

“Attention all citizens, please give attention and adjust your behavior according to the following.” Dread filled her. Those words signaled a Restructuring of Responsibilities. When Potentate Marcioni’s voice took over the airwaves, she went cold. She rubbed her hands over her arms, now grateful the car didn’t need her to continue to its destination.

“My fellow Patrisians, our country has experienced a record year in demand for our goods. Our industries are thriving, and the rest of the world watches in awe at how well we have continued to pull out of the global depression while they remain mired in democratic processes. I celebrate your faithfulness to our ideals, and thank you for doing your part with such steadfastness. Likewise, the Elite want to maintain our responsibility to you, and it has come to my attention that certain members of the population, particularly those gifted in commerce and industry, cannot fulfill the recommended eight hours of sleep due to their specific placements in these thriving times. This should not be so, fellow Patrisians. Therefore, in an effort to give each citizen the freedom to pursue the Ministry of Medicine’s recommendations, effective as of tomorrow, Monday, October fourteenth, all non-essential businesses will close by nine in the evening. A curfew of 10:00 p.m. will be mandatory on all days except Friday, when it will take effect at 11:30 p.m. This curfew will be lifted each morning at 6:30 a.m. Any persons traveling outside their homes during those hours should be prepared to present authorization from their employer to any member of the Elite they encounter. Rest, dear citizens, knowing your government is looking out for your best interest.”

“Mute radio.” Her gaze left the steering wheel now gripped by white-knuckled fingers and shot around for anything else to distract her. “Like he’s some benevolent parent.” Saying it aloud helped rid her mouth of the alkaline taste his words brought. Her car waited in the turn lane for a break in the oncoming traffic, and her fingers played a rapid beat on the steering wheel. Her brain raced through the possibilities surrounding the real reason for the curfew.

Marcioni was no benevolent leader, caring for his people. The curfew could only mean one thing: trouble brewed somewhere.

*

A frantic pounding snapped Maddison’s attention to the sliding glass door. Josh stood on the other side, silhouetted by the flood light. The right side of his face and bare chest were an angry red, and his eye was swollen shut. With a gasp, she sprang to her feet, unlocked the door, and slammed it open. “What happened?”

Josh stepped inside, pain outlined in the arm he held against his chest. Normally he would’ve made a beeline for the table or the fridge. His stillness made the alarm bells clang louder in her head. He looked past her. “There was an accident. At work. I didn’t know where else … I can’t see. I mean, out of my right …”

Taylor moved between them. “Out in the field?”

Josh nodded just an inch. He wobbled on his feet. Maddison reached a hand out, but Taylor blocked her.

“Chemicals?”

Another nod.

“Where are your parents?”

He shrugged. Nothing new. As members of the Elite, Brent and Martha Kahl took full advantage of the privileges afforded to Class Two citizens, eating at four-star restaurants, staying out until all hours of the night, and hiring a maid to maintain the house. Too busy to interact with any Class Sixer—even if he was their son.

Taylor turned to Jakob. “Go next door. Get Josh two sets of clothing, everything has to be replaced. And a set of pajamas too.” Her eyes speared Maddison. “Lay out several clean towels in the guest bathroom. Then go to my room. Get my medical bag out of the hidden compartment.”

Maddison couldn’t look away from the burns on Josh’s face. Wait, medical bag?

“Maddison, now!” Taylor’s voice held an urgency she’d never heard before.

She turned and sprinted toward the bathroom as the front door slammed behind Jakob. Josh couldn’t see. The words reverberated inside her as she wrenched the linen closet open and pulled out the fluffy brown towels they saved for guests. He couldn’t see. She dropped the towels on the bathroom sink and rushed back around the corner toward the steps.

What had happened? The field. Chemicals. Her heart stuttered, and she grabbed the stair rail to keep her balance. Pesticide. Had he been sprayed with it?
Please, don’t let it permanent.

She fell to her knees on the hardwood floor beside Taylor’s bed and dug her fingers into the knot that served as a handle. The board came up in her hands, and she grabbed the heavy black bag hidden in the floor. How had Taylor known about it? Why was she keeping medical supplies at the house?

A muffled cry from downstairs pulled her back into action. The smell of pesticide, heavy and nauseating, grew stronger as she ran back to the kitchen. How had she not noticed it before?

Taylor stood in the doorway of the bathroom. “Strip everything off and get under the shower head. No warm water. No soap. Tilt your head back so only clean water runs onto your face.” She took a deep breath. “You’re going to have to use your left hand to hold your eye open. No matter how much it hurts. We have to flush your eye out. If you can’t promise me you’ll do it by yourself, I’ll have to come in and do it for you.” Another pause. “Okay then. Stay in there until you hear someone knock on the door.”

She closed the door and headed for the kitchen. “It’s eight twenty. He needs to stay in there for twenty minutes. I need you to help me keep time.”

Maddison set the bag on island. “How bad is it?” She set her feet and braced for the blow.

Taylor slumped against the wall, her blue eyes weary. “Bad.”

People always joked that she and Maddison could pass themselves off as sisters, but right now Taylor looked a decade older than her age. She opened the medical bag and pulled out gauze, tape, antibiotic cream, eye drops, and an ophthalmoscope. Curses from the bathroom punctuated the air.

“Couldn’t we take him to the hospital?”

Taylor sighed. “You know we can’t.”

“But you said he’s bad. He needs an eye doctor. He needs antibiotics. He needs to be in a hospital.”

Taylor laid a hand on her arm. “I’m going to do everything I can for Josh. I promise. Call the girls, don’t tell them what’s going on, but cancel your plans. He doesn’t need an audience tonight.”

But what if she needed them here? Maddison cut the thought off. Her aunt was right. Josh wouldn’t want Sophie seeing him like this. Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have chanced even her and Jakob seeing his pain. Too much of a tough guy for that.

She grabbed her vidcom and headed upstairs, as far away from Josh’s agony as possible. She had to block it out if she had a hope of keeping her friends in the dark. She sucked in one more deep breath. “Call Olivia.”

Seconds later, Olivia’s face appeared. “Hey, you. What’s up?” Her energetic words mirrored the twinkle in her blue eyes.

“Hey, Liv. Listen, I’m sorry but …” What to say now? Why hadn’t she thought this through?

Olivia tilted her head to the side, and sandy brown hair cascaded over her shoulder. “Everything okay over there?”

The sympathy in her friend’s question almost undid Maddison. “No.” The word trembled out. “We’ve got some … family stuff going on tonight and …”

“This wouldn’t be the best time for me and Sophie to show up on your doorstep?”

Maddison shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

Olivia smiled softly. “Hey, it’s okay. We both know you don’t really need the English Lit refresher anyway. Do you want to me to let Sophie know?”

Yes. Yes. Oh, please yes. While Olivia was all sympathy, Sophie would be an inquisitor. “That’d be nice. Thanks, Liv.”

“No problem. We’re here if you need us, okay?”

Emotion surged up her throat again. She gulped it back down. “Thanks. I’ll see you in first period.”

Olivia beamed. “Good plan. See you tomorrow.”

Maddison disconnected the call just as the bathroom door downstairs creaked open. She headed for the stairs, taking even breaths the whole way.
You’re going to listen and keep your mouth shut.
She repeated the resolution with each step down the stairs. When she turned the corner, she had to bite back a gasp. Josh, shirtless, sat on the kitchen table, his red skin screaming at her. How could copper skin be so blood red? She forced herself to keep walking toward the kitchen.

Jakob leaned against the island, hands in his pockets. Taylor dropped three pills in Josh’s left hand and waited for him to throw them into his mouth before handing him a glass of water. He gulped it down and handed the glass back to Taylor.

“Before I do an examination, I need details so I’ll know what to look for. If you’d rather I send Jakob and Maddison upstairs, I will.”

Maddison took a step closer. “I’m not going anywhere.” So much for keeping quiet.

“They can stay.”

Taylor raised an eyebrow at Maddison. The meaning was clear—no more outbursts or Taylor would remove her anyway. She turned her attention back to Josh. “Okay then. Start from just before the accident and walk me through everything that happened.”

“The farm’s behind on quota, so the supervisor kept everyone late. Me and the other apprentices were harvesting the last pumpkin field.” Josh’s chin dipped toward his chest.

“About what time was that?” Taylor’s tone was soft and encouraging.

“It was about six thirty.” His leg bounced slightly. He’d rather be pacing. “They spray the pumpkins in the evening, around six fifteen, six thirty, once everyone’s on their way home. I thought they’d push it back.”

They’d kept the schedule with people still in the area? Workers without protective gear?

“The tractor started on the other side of the acreage. A couple of the guys complained. The Super said we’d be long gone before it was a problem. If we were motivated.” His leg bounced harder. “We’d been working hard already but tried to pick up the pace even more. About fifteen minutes later, we could smell it.” Josh locked eye contact with Taylor. “One of the guys around me got really jumpy, but no one said anything…. The stationary liquidator had joined our supervisor. They both had masks and goggles.

“A couple of minutes later, I got a little dizzy and nauseous. The guy in front of me stumbled. He had a hard time getting back up. The tractor was close now, about six rows away. That’s when I felt the wind change.” He froze. Not even his chest rose and fell.

Taylor laid a hand on his knee. “The wind kicked up, changed directions?”

“Yeah. I tried to turn away, but the spray still hit me in the face. And then I was on fire.” Josh’s left hand clenched and pounded his leg. “Everybody was screaming. I’d take a breath and hear the others. Six of us got sprayed. We couldn’t even get out of our row. Some of the others had to pull us away. All I could think was, ‘Water. Water. Water.’” He pounded his leg again. “The Super stopped the sprayer. We ran, well, dragged each other to the storehouse. That’s when I realized something was wrong with my vision.”

Rage bubbled through Maddison’s veins. She needed a punching bag. That supervisor’s face would probably make a good one.

“How long did it take you to get to the spigot, if you had to guess.” Taylor’s words were even, but her eyes flashed.

“It’s a ten-minute walk from the back end to the storehouse. It felt like forever.”

“And there was a hose?”

“Yes. I had to share it with the others. A couple of the guys were worse off than me. They’d been facing that direction when the wind changed. We handed it on every minute or so. I trashed my shirt before spraying off. We were still passing it around when the others came back in. The supervisor told us to head home, shower off, and get some rest. The guy to my right asked for a care voucher.” A shudder passed through Josh. “The Super said that his injury, our injuries were caused by a lack of initiative, that if we’d been on task the whole day we’d never have put ourselves in the position to be sprayed. And that Arbuckle Farms doesn’t give care vouchers to employees that cause their own injuries.”

BOOK: Haunted (State v. Sefore)
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