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Authors: Kristen Simmons

BOOK: Three (Article 5)
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A second later a branch broke beneath my hand and both voices paused. Wincing, I crawled backward, behind a tree, but the two men were now coming my way. My heart was hammering. DeWitt already suspected me of having something to do with the fallen resistance posts. If he caught me sneaking around outside a meeting, he would never believe I was innocent.

“Did you hear that?” DeWitt asked.

I didn’t wait another second. I turned and ran straight back to the dorms.

 

CHAPTER

11

EARLY
morning found us packed inside the cafeteria. The council was convening before breakfast and we were summoned to hear an important announcement. After Tucker’s last report, and the radio broadcast of Truck’s death, I couldn’t help but feel nervous waiting with the others. If ever Three would respond, the time was now.

I stood in the back near the exit beside Rebecca. Not everyone was accounted for; the children had been gathered and taken to the south wing, and Sean and some of the field workers had been summoned early to pack rations for some team heading to the interior. None of the fighters had come from the camps below. I kept my eyes pinned on the door, wanting to be the first to see Chase should he arrive.

The rain that had begun late in the night had yet to let up. It came in a constant sheet, dripping through the roof in a dozen different places. A familiar uneasiness spread through my muscles. Even with so many absent, this many people packed close together could not be safe.

Finally, Ms. Rita, Panda, and the man with the red hair who’d captured us in the grove arrived and sat behind a long table erected near the entrance to the kitchen. Dr. DeWitt followed closely behind them and even from across the room his exhaustion was apparent. He rubbed both hands over the stubble of his jaw and nodded to someone standing in the front.

“I feel bad for him,” Rebecca whispered. “You know his family was killed by the MM.”

“I know he supposedly killed a bunch of soldiers,” I said.

Rebecca lowered her voice. “It was a routine inspection. Word is things got out of hand when the soldiers found the Article Violators hiding in their basement. The wife and daughter tried to run, and…”


And
…” I prompted, leaning close so that no one standing nearby could hear.

“They didn’t make it. So the doctor,
you know,
finished it. Not without a fight though. That’s how he got all the scars on his face.”

Rumors usually only had bits of truth, if any at all, but what Rebecca had heard seemed possible.

I twisted my necklace around my finger, thinking of my own arrest. If Chase hadn’t been there, I might not even still be alive. I closed the memories from my mind and scanned each of the other council members’ faces and figures, trying to determine who DeWitt had met last night. None of them were right. The other person had obviously been male; Panda was too short, and the redhead was too thin. The only other person I knew was missing on the council was the old man with the eye patch, and he didn’t fit either.

“All right,” started DeWitt. He raised his hands and the room silenced. “In light of recent events, we’re suspending all regular business for the present time.”

I found myself looking for Billy, and wondering again what he’d been guarding by the cemetery last night.

“Another of our posts was attacked yesterday, making three in this week alone,” continued DeWitt. “Prisoners were taken. Our sources tell us that in a little over two weeks, the Chief of Reformation plans to celebrate this series of victories with a party at the Charlotte base. It will be his first public appearance since his unfortunate recovery last month.”

A grumble rose from the audience—it was a sick man who celebrated the deaths of others by throwing a party. As voices lifted in anger, a memory from the Wayland Inn came to the forefront of my mind: gathering around a radio while we learned of an assassination attempt on the Chief of Reformation’s life. It had been the first time I’d heard about Three.

DeWitt raised his arms to silence the crowd.

“It will also be our first public appearance. As we speak, our teams are already being deployed to Charlotte, as well as other key FBR bases, to await instructions. The details of this mission will be kept highly confidential until our people reach their destination so as not to put anyone at unnecessary risk. In addition, we’ll observe a radio silence effective immediately to limit the chances the FBR will receive any outgoing signals. Incoming transmissions will continue to be monitored.”

The air in the room grew thick and heavy, and soon I realized I hadn’t breathed in too long. I gasped shallowly, one thought alone burning into my mind.

Chase.

DeWitt was planning on sending him into a warzone. He might already be gone. I needed to find him. Find him and figure out what we would do next—run, or hide, or fight with the others. Whatever it was, we would do it together. I would not let him go again.

A cold hand gripped mine and I turned to meet Rebecca’s bright blue eyes.

“It’s going to be fine,” she said. “It can’t be as bad as it sounds.”

The room had succumbed to whispers, but squeaking boots behind us rose over the sound.

“What’d I miss?” Sean shook the water out of his hair with one hand. His other arm was still strapped in a sling, reminding me of Chase’s part in his assignment to the gardens.

“Tough crowd,” he said when we didn’t answer. “Great. Someone died, didn’t they?”

I tried to force the implications of the council’s orders from my mind, but I couldn’t. People would die—Three’s people. They’d be slaughtered; I’d seen the census numbers for the base yesterday in the radio room. Thousands against a couple of hundred. Though I wanted vengeance, an attack didn’t make sense. There were simply too many of them and too few of us.

“Quiet!” called DeWitt. “We’re taking volunteers—anyone nonessential to our daily operations here.” He paused, and Ms. Rita put a hand on his shoulder. “This is the moment we’ve been waiting for. You chose this life. You know the reasons that led you down our path. We’re asking you to remember those reasons now.”

My gaze turned to Panda unconsciously, drifting down the names listed on his forearm.

“This is suicide,” I said aloud. Those closest glared in my direction. I didn’t care. Let them think what they wanted. The Three I’d heard spoken of in whispered rumors, both worshipped and feared by the resistance, was invincible. They made smart decisions. They weren’t going to lead a revolution by becoming martyrs.

“We don’t know the whole plan,” said Rebecca. “Dr. DeWitt said the details are being kept a secret. Chase and his uncle probably know more.”

Her words calmed me a little. She was right. DeWitt had alluded there was more to this mission than just the attack. I was already heading for the exit when Sean grabbed my forearm.

“Wait,” he said. He removed a folded piece of paper from his pocket and shoved it into my hand. “Read it later.”

I placed it into my pocket, barely giving it a second thought. The only thing on my mind was finding Chase. As long as he hadn’t already left without me.

*   *   *

The mud splashed up my legs as I ran down the gravel road that disappeared into the woods. In the daylight, even with the drizzle, the fighters’ beige tents could be seen peeking through the brush and spindly gray branches, heavy with drooping moss.

Chase had to be there. He couldn’t have left without telling me. Even considering it made me sick.

As the road declined I glanced back and saw Rocklin in the distance emerging from the cafeteria with his hands on his hips. I didn’t wait to see if he followed.

This time I stuck to the dirt road that cut through the trees, avoiding the cemetery and the shed where I’d seen Billy. All at once, the woods opened to reveal the camp I’d seen only from a distance the previous night. The rain pinged off the metal tops of the storage units. The fires were now extinguished, but now the fields that stretched between the road and the parking lot of stolen MM cars were alive with movement. The fighters—both men and women—were in a state of controlled chaos. Some were crowded at tables beneath the lean-tos, assembling weapons. Others were in lines for haircuts, given beneath a striped tent. Many of the women already wore Sisters of Salvation outfits, while the men were in various combinations of MM uniforms. Still others were dressed in street clothes. One guy jogged by in a navy flack jacket with his cropped Endurance pants beneath. He didn’t seem to notice me.

It hit me then, in a way DeWitt’s words couldn’t. This was really happening. Three was preparing for war, and Chase was preparing with them.

A cold panic dripped down my spine. I took a deep breath and scanned the crowd for Chase, Billy, Jesse, anyone I might recognize, suddenly aware that I was an outsider here. Everyone seemed to have a job, a purpose, but even in the north wing, I was held at an arm’s length and watched with suspicion. That wasn’t the case here. Everyone was in a constant state of movement but me, like I was standing in the eye of a hurricane.

Near the weapons tent I caught a flash of short black hair a head above the rest. Without another thought I ran after him, sloshing through the puddles and slipping through the bodies that grew denser as we neared the heart of the camp.

He ducked behind a group of fake Sisters, and I circled around them, finally catching the back of his sleeve.

“Chase!”

But it was Jesse that turned around. He looked different with short hair. Younger, more serious. Just as dangerous—that sharp look was still in his dark eyes—but not as shifty as before. My gaze flicked to the tattoo on his neck.

“Sorry to disappoint, neighbor,” he said with a fake smile.

“Where is he?” I asked.

Jesse scratched a hand through his short hair. “Last I saw he was getting a little taken off the top.”

So he was still here. At least for now.

“I need to talk to him.”

He held his arms out. “As you can see, we’re all a little busy at the moment.”

“Since when did you care so much about all this?” I nearly spit the words.

“All this…” He smiled like he didn’t understand what I meant.

“The
cause
.”

“Ah,” he said. “I’m a fast learner.”

A whistle cut through the rain, and the closest fighters immediately began heading to where the cars were parked, leaving Jesse and I standing alone.

“Dr. DeWitt told us what’s happening.” He blocked my view when I leaned around him. “Are they really sending Chase out?”

Jesse gave me a confused look. “They’re sending everyone who isn’t injured or essential to running this place. Or short.” He measured my height with one hand. “The kids, for example. They’ll stay behind.”

I narrowed my gaze, swiping away the water that had gathered in my hair.

“Why?” I whispered, more to myself than to him. Rebecca had reminded me that those who went would receive more specific orders in the field, but the numbers I’d seen in the north wing were still embedded in my mind. Too many soldiers, not enough resistance.

“Because,” said Jesse. “When a government becomes destructive, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute a new government.”

I peeked out at him through the fingers that had covered my face. “Did you just make that up?” It didn’t sound like anything he’d normally say. Not that I knew him well enough to know.

He laughed, and it struck me as odd that he spoke of such patriotism while in no apparent rush to join the others.

“Believe it or not, someone even older than me did. But that doesn’t make it less true.” He took a step back, turned away. “If I see my nephew, I’ll tell him you came by,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

I stared at his back, aware of the encroaching footsteps that came up behind me. I knew who it would be, and wasn’t in the mood to be babysat.

“The doc is looking for you,” Rocklin said bluntly. “We got a message from your friend.”

*   *   *

THE
radio room in the north wing was still bustling with people when Rocklin and I arrived. This time the guards didn’t block my way; they stood aside as if expecting me, and allowed me to enter the tight, dimly lit quarters. A wall of heat drew the sweat to my skin as I stepped over the threshold, and I found myself wishing for an open window.

“Hope your break was worth it.” I spun around to face DeWitt, standing before the wall that had held the picture of Chase and I in the hospital. “You missed a call from your friend.”

It took a beat to register what he meant. Tucker.

“He’s still alive?”

The muscles beside DeWitt’s mouth ticked, and his scarred jaw was gray with stubble. My throat worked to swallow. Besides learning that Chase had not been sent out for our injured, I had accomplished nothing, and now I’d missed something important. Something that affected more lives than just my own.

“Is he still…” I pointed to the radio and then realized I couldn’t respond anyway. Besides receiving signals, Three was confined to air silence.

“No,” said DeWitt. “He’s gone now.”

The disappointment weighed heavily on my shoulders.

“What did he say?”

DeWitt sighed and strode past me to the radio. He said something to the operator, who flipped a few switches on the high right corner of the machine, and then removed his headphones.

“Lucky for you, we recorded it.”

The transmission was not as clear as it had been before. Now it was glitchy and clicked on and off in intervals. But that didn’t stop Tucker’s voice, stretched thin with panic, from filling the room.

“… if you’re even still there … gone … all of them … just me left … if you’re still … meet … at the beach. I’ll be … soon as I can…” A crackling burst of static followed, and in it I realized I’d been holding my breath and quickly gulped down the air.

Then Tucker whispered, almost as a prayer, “Please be there.”

The transmission went silent.

A stitch popped in the neck of my shirt. During the recording I’d gripped the hem and stretched it down my hips as far as it would go. I released it now, but my hands were still shaky. Old scars stood out on the backs of my knuckles, white on red blotchy skin.

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