Saven Deception (27 page)

“Of course. Here, I found this,” he says,
handing me a red and gray patterned scarf. “We can use it to support your
wrist.” He wraps it around my wrist and over my shoulder, securing it on the
other side. It’s not throbbing as much now the pressure is somewhat relieved.

“Okay.” He fixes me with an earnest look.
“I haven’t been one hundred percent honest about everything.”

My spine goes rigid and my lips purse.

“What I haven’t told you is that I’m a
member of the underground resistance movement opposed to the government’s
controlling methods of governance.”

“There’s a resistance movement?” My eyes
widen in surprise.

“Yeah. My dad’s been involved in the
organization for years. When he realized the depth of my tech skills, I was
recruited to help out. They provided technical equipment, and I spent years
spying on the government and relaying intelligence to the rebel leaders. Until
I was caught and imprisoned.”

A muscle pops in his jaw as painful
memories resurface. I reach over with my uninjured hand and squeeze his. I
can’t believe his father placed him in harm’s way like that, especially when he
was only a kid. Our world is sorely lacking in good parental role models.

“Anyway, the rebels helped coordinate my
escape from the penitentiary, and the minute I reconnected with them I was
brought up to speed—How Commissioner Williams has been trawling the streets of
the Outer Circle every night for young girls, all the significant goings-on in
the power plant and at the space station, and the ongoing construction
happening underwater. They placed me in here to identify exactly what the
government is planning to do with these new cities. But Sadie, what I’ve
discovered is way, way bigger than that.”

His eyes light up like two golden orbs.
When a minute or two passes and he hasn’t said anything else, I lean into him.
“Dying of curiosity here.”

“I’m trying to find the right words to
explain this, but honestly, I don’t think there are any.” He gazes off into
space. “I’m still blown away by it.” He refocuses on me. “Our government has
formed an alliance with an alien race, Sadie, and they are already here among
us.”

I stare at him, expecting a big grin, but
he looks deadly serious. I bust out laughing. He doesn’t join in and my
chuckling gives way to the worst form of anxiety. I gape at him, convinced he’s
high on crazy juice. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. I’ve discovered communications
between the alien representatives and our president. It appears they’ve
orchestrated some deal, which will give Earth access to an unlimited supply of
natural fuel they have on the alien’s home planet, Saven. That’s why there’s
been such a flurry of activity at the power plant and an increase in space
travel.”

“This isn’t real,” I mutter.

“Sadie, I’m telling you it is. I
understand it’s a lot to take in but it’s real all right.”

“What did we agree to give them in
exchange?” I figure if I focus my brain on the practical stuff I can avoid a
full on freak-out.

“I haven’t been able to determine that
yet. But I’m wondering if it’s something to do with these cities. When I saw
there was a tour tonight, I figured it’d be a good opportunity to try and find
out.”

“Who else knows about this?” I tap my foot
anxiously off the floor.

“I’ve relayed the intel to the rebel
leaders and my contacts in Thalassic City.” He bends his knees. “It’s nuts,
right?”

“You could say that.”

We are both silent for another few minutes
until a sudden thought bounces into my mind. A cold icy hand reaches out and
squeezes my heart. “Jarod,” I whisper. “What does this have to do with Logan?”

His expression darkens. “I’ve had my suspicions
for a while, but I’ve only confirmed it recently. His father is part of the
negotiation team, Sadie.”

I knew his father had a connection to the president,
so I can’t say I’m overly surprised. But link Jarod’s revelation to my earlier
musings and the picture is starting to clearly form in my mind’s eye. “And?” I
prompt.

His eyes flare. “His father is part of the
Saven
negotiation team, Sadie. His father isn’t human. Meaning—”

“Meaning Logan isn’t human,” I finish for
him.

“You don’t seem overly surprised,” Jarod acknowledges. He’s
probably expecting lots of shrieking, and screaming, and freaking out.

“I think I’m in shock,” I mumble. “I’m
sure there’ll be plenty of time to freak out later.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He takes my
hand in his. My fingers are like icicles enclosed in his warm hand. “I assumed
you’d deny it, but you’ve accepted it rather calmly.”

“I’d come to the conclusion that there was
definitely something different about him,” I admit. “Haydn and Neve too.” It’s
only as I express this opinion that I realize the truth of it. Perhaps I just
didn’t want to face the facts.

“And the asshat,” Jarod says. “I’m pretty
sure he’s an alien too, and I’d like to know what the hell he’s done to Jenna.”

Cold prickles of fear crawl over my skin.
Dante
has
done something to Jenna, and I’ve sat back and let it happen.
Immense guilt wars with tremendous fear.

I cling to the one shred of hope I have
left. “Logan is going to tell me the truth, and I’ll find out what Dante has
done to Jen and if there’s anything we can do to help her.”

“What makes you think he’ll help? Hasn’t
he sat around and watched while all this happened?” Jarod’s tone is cold.

Not that I can blame him. He raises a
valid point, but until I hear Logan’s version of events, I don’t want to jump
to any ill-conceived conclusions.

“I don’t know, Jarod. But I at least need
to talk to Logan before I start pointing the finger of blame. He … he isn’t
bad. I just know he isn’t.”

Jarod shoots a disbelieving look my way,
but he wisely stays quiet.

The Subvee slows down and gently lowers.
“We must be approaching the station.” He squeezes my hand. “Look, I know you
want to trust Logan, and I hope for your sake that you’re right about him. But
he’s an alien, Sadie, secretly here on Earth with an agenda we don’t know
anything about. You have to be careful. Don’t tell him you know anything, or
that
I
know anything, and you certainly can’t discuss the things we’ve
just talked about. You need to promise me.” His face is solemn.

“You don’t trust me?” I’m insulted.

“I wouldn’t have asked you here if I
didn’t trust you. But I’m also aware of how infatuated you are with him, and I
need to know that my trust hasn’t been misplaced.”

Now I’m definitely insulted. Suppressing
my anger, I speak calmly. “I didn’t betray you the first time we met when I
didn’t know you from Adam. And I’m hurt that you’d think I’d betray you now.
And for the record,” I say, grinding my teeth, “Logan and I have a real
connection. It’s not some
infatuation
.”

“I’ve upset you. I’m sorry, Sadie. But this
is bigger than both of us—than all of us—and until we’ve gathered all the facts,
we need to act smart. It would be remiss of me not to mention this. It isn’t
about me not trusting you. I
do
trust you.”

That goes some way toward placating me.
The Subvee shudders before coming to a complete standstill. “Fine.” It’s
important we remain a team if we’re to accomplish anything now. Forcing aside
the distressed thoughts tearing through my mind, I focus solely on the present.
Jarod flips around, staring out the temporary window.

“Won’t they see us?”

“Nope. One-way glass.” He taps a finger
against the window.

“Were did you get all this stuff anyway?”

“Having rebel connections pays off.” He
winks.

The doors glide open and a few officers
clad in full police attire step out onto the platform first.  Two men in dark
suits rush forward to confer with them. A couple of minutes later, the rest of
the arrivals step out onto the platform. Jarod and I share weary expressions as
Commissioner Williams shakes hands with one of the suited men. Next, I spot VP
Horace Tonnard engaged in conversation with the tall handsome man from the
event in City Hall.

Another pair of well-known faces appears
and I gasp. Logan and Haydn wear somber expressions as they wait on the
platform behind the VP. Jarod looks at me with pity in his eyes.

The last person off the Subvee is Dante.
My entire being recoils at the sight of him. With the newfound knowledge I’ve
gleaned, I summon every negative thought I’ve had about him and mentally thrust
it at him, wishing it had formative power, that I had the ability to unleash a
silent weapon in his direction.

“I despise him,” Jarod says with real
meaning.

“I disliked him on sight.” I curl my hands
in my lap. I’m all keyed up and as jittery as an actor on opening night.

Logan’s head whips around, and his
razor-sharp eyes settle on the exact spot where Jarod and I sit. Jarod notices
too, and we both rear back in unison.

“He can’t see us, right?” I whisper.

“Definitely not.” Jarod is insistent.

We both hold our breath until Logan looks
away. Something has him rattled. He talks discreetly in Haydn’s ear.

Then the group moves away from the
platform and round the bend, out of our line of sight. “Let’s give it a few
minutes and then we’ll sneak out.”

I nod distractedly.

“Sadie,” Jarod says, tugging on my arm.
“Do you think Logan knew you were here?”

“How could he? It was a coincidence.”

We stare at each other, unspoken words
lying between us. “He’s an alien. Who knows what he can do.”

That sends chills of the worst kind
zinging all over my body. “I can’t contemplate that now.” I take a stabilizing
breath. “I’m trying to compartmentalize, Jarod. So, I don’t, you know, freak
out?”

“Sure. If he does know, it doesn’t look
like he’s going to tell anyone anyway.”

“Of course, he won’t tell anyone!” I’m
indignant. “He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. Come on, I think enough time
has passed. Let’s go.”

We locate a tubular waste chute that
should serve effectively as an exit point. Closing my eyes and blocking my
nose, I attempt to deflect the odious aromas wafting around me as I slide to
the ground. Jarod catches me and we run quietly in the direction the others
went.

As we round the next corner, the sound of
doors slamming accost us, and we both screech to a halt. Jarod extracts another
device and throws it to the far wall. It attaches to the concrete and
transforms into a miniature mirror. I squint at the reflection. A large black
Humvee with tinted windows idles at the pavement. Commissioner Williams ducks
his head and steps into the vehicle. The pavement is now empty and the engine
starts up.

Jarod drops to his hands and knees and
motions for me to do the same. “What are you doing?” I half-whisper and half-hiss.
“You can’t go out there. We’ll get caught!”

“Trust me.”

Offering up a silent prayer, I crawl
awkwardly around the corner after him. I keep my head low and focus on the
pavement. The vehicle starts to maneuver out onto the road, and Jarod
half-straightens up as he makes a grab for me. Tucking me into his waist, he
flings himself at the back of the vehicle, holding the heavy bumper with his
other hand. Sometimes being teeny
does
come in handy, and Jarod is able
to hold both of us up one-handed.

Our shoes scrape the ground as the vehicle
moves slowly forward. Pins and needles stab my feet, shooting up my legs.

Twisting around impressively fast, Jarod
simultaneously flicks a button on his waistband, and a flat box drops
underneath us, expanding in size until it resembles a mobile cart. My scream
freezes in my mouth as we plummet to the ground. We drop onto the pallet with a
thud, and I hold my breath, terrorized beyond anything I’ve felt before. The
Humvee is picking up pace now, and I’m fearful his arm is going to be ripped
off.

“Keep flat to the cart. Don’t move, don’t
speak.” Jarod fiddles with a button on the side. The cart vibrates and Jarod
removes his hand from the bumper as we slide underneath the vehicle. My heart
is pounding wildly and a thin layer of sweat coats my forehead.

Jarod removes a clip from the side of the cart
and gestures for me to do the same. I explore the edge with trembling fingers
and pinch the tiny clip to release it. Both clips shoot upward and fasten to
the underbelly of the car. There’s a horrific, swaying motion as the cart
elevates, securing us in place a few inches off the ground.  Butterflies dive
bomb my stomach, and I think I’m going to be sick.

The Humvee navigates a few bends and
smaller roads, and with each distinct movement in the vehicle, my stomach
swerves uncomfortably, my wrist throbs, and the fluttering, anxious feeling in
my chest accelerates. The cart is long enough to accommodate my entire torso,
but Jarod’s legs dangle dangerously off the edge.

When the Humvee reaches the main road, it
picks up speed, and my hair swirls around both of us, tickling and tangling and
annoying as hell. At least it distracts me from puking which is a good thing
because I already smell like day-old garbage.

The Humvee pulls off the main road and
travels for about ten minutes in a westerly direction. My vision is restricted
at this angle and in this dark light. All I can see from the side is freshly
laid asphalt bordered by orangey-brown barren land that appears to stretch for
miles. Dust clouds gather along the edge of the road as we pass, and soon the
smoky air winds its way around us, infecting our air supply. The itch to cough
is almost overpowering.

The Humvee swings around in a circular
fashion before coming to a complete standstill. I strangle my fear as feet land
on the ground—mere inches from us—and doors slam in uniform succession.
Footsteps stomp on the ground and several voices converse. I twist my head to
the other side and meet Jarod’s gaze. Tiny amber flecks shine in his chocolate brown
eyes, and I realize he’s chosen to forgo his navy colored contacts. I hope that
was wise. If we’re caught, and his real identity is revealed, he could be whisked
back to the penitentiary, or worse. I shiver.

Gradually, the sound of footsteps gets
softer and softer, and the voices sound farther and farther away. After what
feels like eternity, but is most likely no more than five or ten minutes, Jarod
shifts beside me. He unclips the cart and guides us out his side of the Humvee
so we’re sheltered by the body of the vehicle. He helps me straighten up and
brushes dust off my clothes. Sooty black marks line his face like tribal war
paint, and I have to smother my laugh. With his painted face, all black attire,
and myriad of different gadgets, he’s like a wannabe James Bond in training.

“What?”

 “Tell you later,” I say, with a sly
smirk.

We peek around the edge of the Humvee and
stare at the stark brown warehouse in front of us. Dim lights glow from the two
right-side front windows, but other than that, the building is in complete
darkness. Large, cumbersome construction vehicles are static in front of the
warehouse, and there’s a ginormous mound of muddy earth piled high beside a
cavernous hole in the ground. Glancing over my shoulder, I spy another
warehouse in mid-construction across the lot.

“Look up there.” Jarod nudges me with his
elbow. I follow the line of his hand to an observation tower off the side of
the warehouse. Comprised jointly of wood and steel, a hut-like edifice rests
atop four solid legs, and a ladder scales the side of the structure. No lights
are visible so either it’s not yet operational or someone wanted it unmanned
for the night. “Do you think you can manage?” He gestures toward my injured
wrist.

“Sure.” I don’t want to be viewed as a
weak link. I can grit my teeth and hide the pain.

“Okay. Follow me.”

This is suicide. But I follow him
nonetheless.

We move stealthily toward the warehouse,
hunched over, and keeping to the unlit left side of the building. When we
arrive at the ladder, Jarod climbs up first, and I ascend behind him. Each step
is pure agony, but I bite down on my pain. I’m as slow as a snail, but
eventually I reach the top. Jarod pulls me up onto the elevated walkway. We
move around the other side of the structure—out of sight of the warehouse—and
Jarod pulls a pair of battered looking digital binoculars from his jacket
pocket.

“Ran out of fancy gadgets?”

He grins. “You like my gadgets.”

“I do,” I admit without argument. His
gadgets are saving our butts thus far.

Jarod scans the area in front of us and
lets out a low whistle.

“What do you see?”

“Here, check for yourself.” He hands the
binoculars to me. I fit my eyes to the lens and sweep the landscape from left
to right taking in at least a dozen other warehouse structures like this one.
Looking in a north-facing direction, I spot a cluster of high-rise buildings
standing in isolation inside a walled enclosure. I zoom in on the sign tacked
to the wall outside. “WORKER ACCOMMODATION. FACTORIES 1 – 5” is clearly visible
in thick, bold lettering.

What the …?

Switching the lens back around to the
warehouses, I narrow in on each structure and spot the details I missed
previously. Each warehouse has a number and name in large print etched onto the
side. Things swiftly click into place.