Inside the Palisade (19 page)

I glance at the two women.

“It’ll be fine, Omega.” Upsilon claps me on the shoulder. “I’ll cover the entrance.” She snaps a salute at my mother who grimaces as she lowers her feet to the top step.

She descends into the darkness. The flashlight beam is almost out of sight when she calls out, “All clear, Omega.” With a last glance at Upsilon, who is now stationed a few paces back, I allow
myself to move forward on shaky feet.

The journey into the Bank seems to take a long time, but that’s probably because I keep stumbling on the worn steps. My mother fares better because she’s holding the light, but she’s also taking the most risk going first. The air is stale. I wonder if the ventilation is any better in the actual quarters where they keep the men. I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed that I won’t get to see it. The morgue sounds horrifying enough without seeing a bunch of men trapped like caged animals underground.

Ma Temple tried to explain earlier that they keep the men as humanely as possible. There are no actual cages, and there’s plenty of food and exercise. The bedrooms and shared living facilities are supposedly as well furnished as our own. She assured me that the men grew up never knowing anything different, so to them, this is normal. But they’re still prisoners. They can’t get out of the Bank. Ever. Not until they die. I think about my own life. Stuck inside the palisade. How different is it really? We’re all prisoners in one way or another.

My mother throws her arm back, a signal to stop. “I think we’re here.” She scrambles forward. Something beeps, followed by the sound of metal grating. “This is it. The morgue. Wait here.”

The light disappears. It’s pitch black and difficult to breathe. I can’t hear a thing. Not my mother’s voice. Not the sound of her feet. I take a step to my left and hit a cold stone wall. I brace my palm against it and try to get my breath under control. After what seems like an eternity, the light appears ahead of me, illuminating my mother’s features. “I’ve found it. Come on.”

I stumble forward.

“There’s no one here,” she says.

She grasps my wrist to lead me through a door into a small room. It’s hard to get a sense of the full dimensions in the semi-darkness, but the flashlight gives off enough of a glow to see that the walls are made of stone and lined with steel benches. There’s
a storage locker at the far end, but other than that, the room is empty. And so cold.

My mother snakes an arm around me. “We must have beaten her here. We’ll have to wait.”

Mom moves to close the door behind us, but I pull her back.

“Omega, I need to close the door. I don’t want to raise suspicion if anyone else is around.”

Before I can respond, we’re interrupted by a squeaking from somewhere down the hall.

“Mom?” I grab her arm and try to pull her out of the doorway.

She grips my shoulders. “It’s probably Ma Temple, but just in case, follow me.” She leads me to the far wall and pushes me beneath one of the benches. She takes a step away. “I can still see you. Move back.” I do as I’m told, feeling the cold of the stone wall seeping into my bones. The squeaking is louder, accompanied by a whirring noise, like wheels on a mobile platform. Mom dives under the shelf beside me, pressing herself back as far as possible. The cold air invades my lungs. The overhead light flickers on in the center of the room. From our hiding place I can make out the wheels and lower struts of a metal gurney.

“Sigma?” A hissed whisper. Ma Temple. I almost crumple with relief.

“Here.” My mother straightens out from under the bench motioning for me to stay back. I watch her legs as she approaches the gurney. She takes in a sharp breath and places her feet apart.

“He’s going to be alright, Sigma,” Ma Temple says. “He had a reaction to the drugs we gave him to fake the post-op infection. I had to give him a sedative.”

I can’t help it. I dart from my hiding place and push my mother aside. Ma Temple stands at the head of the gurney clad in her white scrubs, but I’m not looking at her. I’m staring at the inert form on the flat metal surface.
Ghent.
He’s lying on his back, head lolling to the side and he looks pale and weak. Dark circles surround his eyes. His thick hair has been shorn to a light fuzz.
Sweat beads around his temples. He’s wearing loose gray pajamas at least a size too big. His feet are bare and clean. The pajama top is raised to reveal a large bandage around his midsection, padded with gauze.

I step toward Ma Temple, but Mom grabs my elbow and pulls me into her chest.

Ma Temple looks down at Ghent before turning to us. She directs her next words to me. “Omega, please. He’ll be fine. I promise. It will take a little longer than we hoped, but we can stick with the original plan. You and your mother will have to continue his medications as well as keeping his incision clean. I’ll give you the medical supplies you’ll need, but we have to get the boy to the transport first.”

My mother’s grip loosens. “What’s the best way to do this?”

“We can wheel him as far as the back entrance, but you’ll have to carry him up the stairs. I’ll take the gurney back and put the supplies together for you.”

A chill surges through me when I realize that means a second trip down here to get the medicine, but that’s the least of our worries right now.

“I’ll go first.” My mother pushes past Ma Temple and snaps on her flashlight as Ma Temple turns off the overhead light. We move as fast as we can, Ma Temple following my mother’s lead. I take up the rear, peering at Ghent’s unmoving form. At one point, I reach out to touch his bare toe. It’s cold as ice.

It takes a while for us to get to the stairs. This is where the gurney-ride ends.

“Sigma,” Ma Temple addresses my mom, “you need to help me get him up.” The women gather beside the gurney and my mother extends the flashlight to me. “Here. You hold this.”

“No.” I wave it away and step in closer.

“We don’t have time to argue, Sigma,” Ma Temple says grabbing the flashlight. “Let her do it.”

With some difficulty, my mother and I maneuver Ghent’s limp
form so he’s propped up between us with an arm draped over each of our shoulders. Each of us braces his waist. He’s dead weight. It’s difficult to keep my balance. He doesn’t even smell like himself. He gives off a sickly antiseptic odor.

“I’ve got to get the gurney back,” Ma Temple says. “Sigma, can you manage this?” She pushes the light into my mother’s free hand. “Come back to the morgue, and I’ll have the supplies ready for you.”

Mom grunts as we position Ghent at the bottom of the stairs. “Ready, Omega?” She starts to climb. I’m a step behind her most of the way, wobbling under Ghent’s weight, but determined not to fail. I can hear the squeak of the gurney disappearing back into the dark tunnel. Ma Temple hasn’t turned on any lights. She must be down here often enough to know her way in the dark. It’s difficult to maneuver Ghent to the top of the stairs and we have to stop a few times to adjust our grip. I’m relieved when I see the tips of Upsilon’s boots at the opening. She leans in to help us get him all the way out.

“He’s not looking too good,” she says, and I want to scream, but I hold it in. It won’t help if I lose control now. We’re so close to getting away with this.

“He’ll be okay. He needs some meds,” my mother says to Upsilon.

We manage to move his inert form out of the stairwell and lay him on the ground beside the metal panel. I reach for his cheek. It’s warm, even though his feet are cold.

“Should we get him a blanket?” I ask.

“Let’s get him into the vehicle,” Mom says.

Upsilon and I take his head and shoulders and Mom lifts his legs. We struggle to get him inside and, when we do, I slide my pack under his head as a pillow.

“I’m going back in for the meds,” Mom says.

“I’m coming with.” I move to her side.

“No, honey. Stay here with Upsilon. If I’m not back in ten
minutes, get him out of here.”

“You think it might be a trap?” Upsilon asks Mom.

“I hope not. I think she’s really working with us this time,” Mom says, nodding at the opening in the ground.

My heart skips a beat. I’m torn between the need to help Mom and the desire to stay with Ghent.

Mom grins and presses a kiss to my cheek. “It’ll be alright, Omega.” She seems like a different person now, like an adventurer. Somehow the attitude suits her. She strides to the opening. I follow her and let out a stutter of protest.

She touches my cheek with the pad of her index finger. “I promise everything will be fine, sweetheart, but I need you to stay here for now.”

I can feel moisture welling beneath my eyelids but I’m not going to cry. I’m part of this plan and I have to be strong.

“Okay?” she asks.

I nod, not sure if I can control my voice.

“See you soon.” She disappears down the stairway.

“Omega?” Upsilon is calling me from her post beside the vehicle. I hurry back to look at Ghent. Upsilon steps aside so I can lean in through the driver’s door and run my fingers over his shaved head. What’s left of his hair is prickly. I bite my lip. Shielding my movements from Upsilon, I drop a kiss to his forehead and run my thumb across his cheek, which is now devoid of hair. He murmurs and his fingers twitch. I clasp his hand in mine. “It’s going to be alright, Ghent. You’re going to be alright.” I stand still, staring down at him for what seems like a long time before turning to Upsilon who has slid into the passenger seat and is rummaging around in one of the packs.

“How long has it been?” I ask her.

“About six minutes.”

It can’t only be six. It feels like forever. We’re too exposed. The entry to the Bank is wide open and the vehicle isn’t very well hidden. I run the backs of my knuckles over Ghent’s cheek. It’s still hot. Perspiration beads his forehead. He needs that medicine, and my mom needs me to help her.

“I’m going in after her,” I say.

“Sit tight. You heard what she said. She’ll only be another minute or so.”

But it isn’t only another minute. The minute passes. Then another. Then another. The only sound is Ghent’s raspy breathing.

I’m leaning through the driver’s door, holding his hand and running the pad of my thumb across his bony knuckles when Upsilon speaks. “We need to go. It’s time.”

“No.”

“It’s been more than ten minutes.”

It’s good that Upsilon can’t see my face because I don’t want her to anticipate what I’m about to do. Pressing a brief kiss to
Ghent’s forehead, I dart for the entry to the Bank and am down the steps before she can stop me. She calls out, but doesn’t follow. Someone has to stay with Ghent. She knows it, and she’ll do it. Otherwise this will all be for nothing.

It’s dark in the tunnels. I let my feet guide me to the morgue. I’m almost sure I’m lost when I hear raised voices. More than two of them. I creep forward. That’s when I see the light. The morgue door is open, light spilling into the passage ahead of me. The voices are coming from there. My mother and Ma Temple. And someone else I hoped I’d never come across again: Commander Theta.

“Sigma,” the commander’s tone is icy. “I should have known your questionable loyalties would lead you to something like this. Infiltrating the Bank. What were you planning to achieve?”

“We can’t go on like this, Theta. You know we can’t. The society is dying,” my mother says.

There’s the sound of a loud slap, skin on skin. My mother cries out.

“Spare me the rant, Sigma,” the commander says. “I’ve heard it all before, and Med-Tech Temple, I was expecting a body down here. Where is it?”

“Already taken care of, ma’am.” Ma Temple’s voice sounds formal, as if she expected to confront the commander all along. Did she? Has she sold us out to the Protectorate? I press myself against the wall, hardly daring to breathe. My knees are weak, but I have to hold myself up. If Ma Temple has betrayed us, I need to get out of here and warn Upsilon.

Mom’s next words surprise me. “What happened to you, Theta? What have the Protectors done to you?”

“It wasn’t the Protectors,” the commander snaps back. “It was you. All this is your doing. With all your crazy notions of saving the world, you couldn’t even save yourself. Couldn’t save what we… The two of you had better come with me.”

The commander’s words are followed by a scuffle.

I slap my hand over my mouth to stop myself screaming. I cower into the shadows as two figures emerge from the morgue, my mother and Ma Temple. Both of them have their hands clasped in front of them. My mother’s wrists are bound with a length of cord, but I can’t see Ma Temple’s. My mother is blocking her from my view. She’s scanning the tunnel. Looking for me? I want to cry out, but I don’t dare move. I have to get back to Upsilon.

Mom stumbles forward. Then I see why. Commander Theta has shoved her in the shoulder and is forcing her down the tunnel, away from me. The commander is clutching my mother’s flashlight, illuminating their path from behind. Ma Temple walks slightly beside and behind my mother. She doesn’t speak or look at either of the other women. I can’t tell if she’s working with Theta or not, but if she is, why did she lie about Ghent?

As they disappear into the blackness, my mother shoots a glance over her shoulder. I have no idea if she can see me or not, and I can’t risk any movement. Is it my imagination or does her gaze dart toward the back exit? Is she telling me to go? She knows I can’t leave her here. I won’t. Maybe she’s telling me to get Upsilon. Or maybe it’s only my imagination. Theta presses the flashlight into her back and forces her forward. Until I can’t see them anymore.

I steady myself against the wall and try to calm down. There’s no choice but to go back the way I came. Alert Upsilon and come up with a plan to save Mom. It’s dark again. They turned off the light when they left the morgue, but I know the way now. With my hand braced against the wall to guide me, I turn and start walking. I only manage a few steps before someone grabs me from behind and a hand clamps over my mouth. I kick out, almost managing to dislodge my attacker, but the grip tightens. Then I notice the scent.

Honeysuckle.

“Calm down, Omega. It’s only me. I’m going to let go now.
Don’t scream, okay?”