Taken (24 page)

I like to walk through the center on my more quiet evenings and admire the various screens, the glowing dials. Sometimes I watch from afar, noting Harvey’s patience as he works on the intricate equipment. He sits with poor posture, his shoulders arched awkwardly and his glasses resting on the tip of his crooked nose. When he catches me looking, he always smiles and gives me a feeble wave.

On one of those calm nights, I approach Harvey and ask him a question that has been swimming in my head since he first told me about Frank’s labs.

“If a Forgery is just a copy—a physical and mental duplicate of a Heisted boy—why is it so loyal to Frank?”

Harvey pulls his glasses off and lays them on the table. “That, Gray, is a fantastic question, and not one that many people think to ask. It is, after all, the reason that none of Frank’s lab workers could create a stable Forgery before me. If they managed to create one at all, its mind was too free. It would question Frank, and he disposed of those replicas swiftly. But I, on the other hand, had a passion for technology—a love for code, a way with software—and that is what made the difference.”

“I’m missing something.”

“A Forgery is similar to you and me,” he continues. “It contains all the same organs, pumps the same type of blood, is built of the same bones. But you and I have free thought, Gray. A Forgery runs off software, data implanted in its brain that tells it how to act and who to listen to.”

Harvey’s smile, the one that exists when he talks about his passions, has faded. “This was really phenomenal when I created it. Now it mostly scares me that I was responsible for something so powerful.”

“So why’d you do it, Harvey? Why work for him?”

He thinks about that for a moment. “I was young and impressionable, I suppose. Frank plucked me from my childhood orphanage and brought me to Union Central, where there were state-of-the-art labs and technology and more water than I could ever drink. He treated me so well, and for the first time in my life I felt like I had family. Someone was caring for me. Someone was acting like my father. I wanted to please him, wanted to show him I could do anything, that I was smarter than every other grown man he had working in those labs. Guess I really did it, huh?”

I don’t say anything, but I understand. I felt that same way with Frank, if only for a few days.

“And the limitless part,” I prompt. “If you were able to make one successful Forgery, why can’t you make a second or third off that same person? I don’t get what’s stopping you.”

“It is a very complicated process,” Harvey says. “If I tried to make too many replicas off you, Gray, it would kill you. I’m not just duplicating your physical attributes, but your mind as well. Your personality, your memories. The human brain can only be stretched so far before it breaks. So I shifted efforts to creating a Forgery of a Forgery, but that is an even messier process. Each generation is less like the first. Certain portions of the software don’t mesh right, and the duplicate Forgeries end up disobedient. They malfunction. I probably could have solved it in time.” He puts his glasses back on and winks at me. “Luckily, I’ve outgrown wanting to please Frank.”

On select days, when scouting reports are positive and the Order nowhere nearby, I am allowed outside. One day a crisp gust of autumn air ruffles my hair. It has grown back, surpassing the stage of stiff stubble and reaching a point where it is soft again, falling into my eyes and curling behind my ears.

When I walk through the woods, it feels as if I am back in Claysoot. There are days that I wish I were truly there, that life was simple again. But Claysoot can never again be a comforting home to me, because even with its structure and rules and security, it is a fraud. Things in Crevice Valley are complicated; but here, what happens is by design of its people. Nothing greater has locked or imprisoned them.

Sometimes, when Bree is sent out on a scouting mission or water run, I venture to the grassy graveyard set in the hillsides beyond Mount Martyr’s rear entrance. It seems every time I am there a new mound of fresh dirt has sprung up from the grass, like a daisy searching for sunlight. My father says this is just the beginning, that the real battle has not even started. I keep company with the deceased when Bree is away, taking refuge among the nameless bodies that lie beneath the ground; but even then I feel oddly alone, like a ghost among a sea of people.

I don’t know what caused me to latch on to Bree the way I have, but whenever she leaves, I am slightly lost. I miss her fire, her scowling face and wild nature, her snide remarks. Each time she returns, I think of telling her this, but I never do. I sometimes even think of asking her if she still wants that kiss. But then Emma will creep into my mind—Emma who has been a pain in my chest for months, an ache I pray to extinguish in reunion every single day. And so I always let the feelings for Bree—the ones that creep up on me when she flashes me a smile or playfully punches my arm—fade away.

In the thick of autumn, when the days have grown much shorter and the evenings cool, I reach a point in my training where I am deemed fit for combat. My father puts me on an active list, and the excitement in me builds. Blaine frets in his big brother way, but since he is still recovering, he can’t offer to take my place. He may be walking without his crutches now, but he has a solid two months of training before him. He has to put in his time, just like everyone else.

My first mission is a basic one, a scouting operation that will be led by Raid. The Order has reattempted Operation Ferret several times over since my arrival in Crevice Valley; and our mission is to cover ground west of Mount Martyr, deem it clear or, if the Order is spotted, report back with coordinates so a counterstrike team can be sent to disband them.

I never get to go on the mission.

On its eve, a sweaty Xavier bursts into a status meeting. The meeting is about the scouting mission itself, and for this reason I am among the shocked faces. The captains are there, along with Ryder, sitting around a circular table, while Bree and I stand with our backs to the wall. Even Harvey is in the room, but only because improved night-vision goggles are to be used on the excursion and he wants to be sure we understand the upgrades.

“Not now, Xavier,” Ryder says as the doors are thrown open.

“But it’s important, sir.” Xavier gasps, nearly choking on his words. “I ran here straight from the interrogation center.”

Something in this revelation has caught Ryder’s attention and he nods at Xavier to continue.

“It’s the new prisoner, the one Fallyn’s team brought in the other day.”

“What of him?” Ryder asks.

“Luke cracked him. We know how the Order plans to infiltrate Crevice Valley. It’s a virus, sir. They’ve engineered a virus.”

THIRTY-ONE

IT’S QUIET, BUT ONLY FOR
a second.

Fallyn throws her hands up first, and Elijah moans in defeat. The others begin talking frantically among themselves, wondering how Frank has confirmed our location, worrying about the threat of the virus. Xavier stands there helplessly, eyeing the group for some plan of action, until finally Ryder raises a hand and the room falls silent.

“You have more details, I assume?” he asks. His voice is still calm and steady, but his hands twist in small knots before him.

“They engineered it in the labs. The prisoner said it’s airborne. It’s apparently a mutated version of the original virus AmWest dropped on the East back during the war. Once we’ve been exposed, people will be sick within a day or two. He said we’d all be dead in a matter of weeks.”

Fallyn frowns. “How can they be sure they won’t infect themselves?”

“Vaccines,” Xavier explains. “It’s been mandatory for all serving in the Order and anyone wanting to stay within city limits. And it’s being supplied to all Taem’s domed sister cities across AmEast as well.”

“And outlying towns?” Ryder prompts.

“I don’t think Frank cares much. He doesn’t need everyone to survive, just himself, the Order, and Harvey. Luke thinks the release of the virus depends on the success of this approaching Order team. Their mission is still Harvey, so they can’t release it before they are in a position to retrieve him, otherwise they’ll be risking the health of their target.”

“Wait a minute,” my father interjects. “How do they even know where we are? Sure, Mount Martyr’s a well-known landmark, but we’ve been careful about our activity during daylight hours. They shouldn’t know we are operating out of here, not unless . . . Do we have a leak?”

Raid shakes his head. “No one has been taken captive in recent weeks. I don’t think information was snitched. But we need a plan, and we need it fast.”

“Frank might have his suspicions about our location,” Ryder says calmly, “but I doubt he truly knows where we are. If he did, a virus would not be necessary. He’d simply fly over and drop bombs.

“So this can mean only one thing: The virus is coming on foot. I believe the Order will look to capture one of our soldiers in the field. Since they don’t know how to find us, they will simply infect that prisoner and let him wander home. They’ll want us to infect ourselves.”

Ryder’s logic makes perfect sense, and it sends another wave of panic through the room. I look at Bree, but her face is stern, her eyes focused.

“So we need the vaccine,” she says to the worried captains.

Ryder nods in agreement. “Yes. The vaccine is the fail-safe. We barricade our entrances, tighten security, and we do all we can to keep the virus from ever finding us. But if it does, we need the vaccine as a backup.”

“Hold on,” Fallyn says. “We’re really going on the words of this one prisoner?”

“Fallyn, if you could see what Luke’s done to him, you’d believe him,” Xavier says. “He only wants the pain to stop. And you know how Luke is, the kind of agony he can inflict.”

Elijah sighs. “It’s a lost cause. The spies we have in Taem didn’t see this coming, and if they are out of the loop, there’s no way they can get us the vaccine in time. They probably don’t even know where to start looking.”

“I do,” Harvey chimes in. It’s the first words he’s spoken since the meeting began.

“Out of the question,” Ryder states. “They want you too badly.”

“Clearly not badly enough to keep me alive,” he counters. “They are risking my death by sending a virus our way. I can die here with you, or we can attempt to get our hands on this fail-safe.”

Ryder rubs his thumb and forefinger together. “You know where to look?”

“I spent countless days in both the technology wing and medical research center when I worked there. If the virus was born in those labs, so was the vaccine.”

“There’s no way they’ll let you waltz back in,” Elijah says.

And then I see it, a path forming before my eyes. This is my chance, the opportunity I’ve been praying for.

“They’ll let us waltz in if I bring him back,” I say. Everyone turns to stare. “It’s simple. I march Harvey back to Taem, turn him in, and create a diversion allowing us to grab the vaccine. Then we sneak back to the woods before the Order even realizes what’s happened.”

And I grab Emma along the way
, I think to myself. Exactly how, I am not sure, but at the moment, those details aren’t slowing me.

Fallyn chortles. “Anyone can create a diversion. Why would you walking Harvey in be any more believable than someone else? What could you possibly tell them that would prevent them from shooting you both on sight?”

“First of all, the goal of Operation Ferret was always to bring Harvey back alive, so no one will be shot on sight. And then there’s the fact that I’m a twin.”

“Why would that matter?” she sneers.

“Because I won’t be returning as myself. I’ll be returning as Blaine. We are identical, and in the Order’s eyes, Blaine never turned on them as I did. I can tell them I’ve been held captive since the Rebels attacked Evan’s mission team. I’ll say that you guys cut out my tracking device so I couldn’t be traced, that I pretended to change sides. I’ll say I gained your trust and then, when the opportunity presented itself, I took Harvey hostage and returned to Taem. If I tell them that story, I will be welcomed back with open arms. It will certainly get us back into Union Central, and from there, we can get the vaccine.”

Harvey smiles, but the rest of the room is uncommonly still.

“It might work,” Ryder admits finally. “It could go wrong a million different ways, but it’s the best chance we have. Harvey, you’re okay with this?”

“More than okay.”

“Well I’m not,” my father interrupts. “Gray’s not prepared for something of this magnitude.” I can see the terror in his eyes. For once he looks like a father.

“He’s proven himself ready,” Ryder says. “And he is on the active list. Gray, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, but we’ll need a guide. Neither Harvey or I know the forest well beyond Mount Martyr.”

“I volunteer,” my father says.

Ryder shakes his head. “Absolutely not. It can’t be any of the captains. You are all too recognizable. It needs to be someone senior and yet someone who is not on their radar, someone who has proven themselves several times over and will not crack under pressure.” I think Ryder is calling for a volunteer, but I find his eyes already locked on the blond figure to my left.

“I accept,” Bree says, no waver or worry in her voice.

“Excellent,” Ryder says. “The scouting mission is off. We have bigger missions to plan.”

We spend the next several days in the status room with forest maps and city grids spread before us. We go over various routes and infiltration plans: how to break into the research facility, when to execute the diversion, how to make our escape. My father avoids the planning altogether, cursing under his breath and swearing he wants no part in coordinating his own son’s death. Blaine seems to share his sentiments.

There is a day where Harvey and Bree are called to planning alone and I am not needed. They talk with the captains behind closed doors and I spend my time wondering what plans must be kept from me, and why. Bree tells me later it was nothing—housekeeping items that applied to technology and transportation only—but I suspect she’s lying. She looks tired, though, taxed from the day, and I don’t press her. Instead, I rifle through various scenarios of how and when I can sneak to the prison and pull Emma from her jail cell. If they can keep details from me, I can keep details from them.