Captives (42 page)

They walked along the sidewalk edging the gardens. Shaylinn’s
gaze fell onto a truck idling at the curb. The driver’s door was open, and the seat was empty.

“The truck?” she whispered to Jemma. “I think I could drive it. It looks empty.”

“The truck, go!” Jemma ushered Kendall and Naomi toward the vehicle, but a maintenance man stepped out from around the front of the truck, ducked in the driver’s door, then moved back to the front hood, which Shaylinn now saw was opened. A tool box sat open on the driver’s seat.

Jemma backed away from the vehicle, grabbing hold of Kendall and Naomi as she moved. “That’s not going to work, Shay.”

“Evening, femmys.”

Shaylinn whirled around. An enforcer was making his way across the grass, coming at them from behind.

“Any fortune?” he asked the maintenance man.

“Not yet. It just won’t hold a charge.”

“Well, a tow is on its way.” The enforcer stopped beside the truck and turned back to the girls. “You femmes lost?”

“No. Just taking a walk.” Shaylinn turned her back to the enforcer and mouthed the word “Go” to Jemma, Naomi, and Kendall. They turned, and Jemma helped them hobble over the wet grass.

“Wait, are you femmes
pregnant
?”

The question sent fire through Shaylinn’s veins. “I’ll catch up with you.” She turned back to the enforcer. He was walking toward her, his brows furrowed. She smiled and tried to sound calm and confident while holding her pillowcase behind her back. “I’m sure you’ve seen ColorCasts of Kendall Collin and Naomi Jordan, the two women about to deliver babies to the Safe Lands. They get stressed being caged in the harem all the time. It’s bad for their pregnancies, so I bring them out for a walk each night when it’s not so crowded and people won’t mob them.”

The enforcer’s brow furrowed. “But that’s not allowed.”

“Not officially, no. But you know how the harem is. Anything for our queens. As long as we’re back before sunrise, Matron looks the other way.”

His face relaxed into a smile. “Oh, well … I guess I will too, then.”

Shaylinn offered her biggest smile, trying to bat her eyes the way Mia did. “I appreciate that.”

“Sure thing. Hey, is Matron Dlorah your task director?”

“Yeah.” She’d have to be if Shaylinn were out walking the surrogates.

“I’ve heard she’s tough,” the enforcer said.

“Oh, she’s not so bad once you get to know her.”

“What are your off days?”

“Um … they’re different every week. You know, surrogates and their medical appointments and such. This task doesn’t really allow consistent free time.”

The enforcer pushed up his sleeve, revealing a Wyndo watch. “Well, maybe next time you’re free you could tap me? It seems every woman I’ve met this year is a two. But you’re a four. Maybe we could pair up sometime.”

Shaylinn’s cheeks burned, but she forced a smile. “Oh, thanks.” She touched the screen of his Wyndo watch and read his name. “Reglan Brown.”

“That’s me.”

“Well, I should catch up to them. Don’t want them getting lost.”

“You didn’t tap.”

She swallowed. “Oh. Sorry.” She set her fist against the screen of his watch. It clicked, and Shaylinn’s picture filled the glass. All it said was her name, ID number, and Highland Harem. Maybe he wouldn’t —

The radio clipped to Reglan’s shoulder crackled and a female voice said, “Calling all units. We’ve got a 10–98 at the harem. Be advised, suspects are four women in their late teens, all dark-haired, two pregnant.”

Shaylinn turned and ran.

“Hey!” Reglan called after her. “Stop!”

Shaylinn quickly caught up to Jemma, Kendall, and Naomi.

“They’re coming. We’ve got to hurry.”

“I can’t go faster,” Kendall cried.

Jemma slowed some. They reached the other side of the Noble Gardens and jogged across the street. It was mostly deserted, though one car was forced to slow because of Jemma and Kendall in the road. The driver honked and yelled as he cruised past.

“Here!” Jemma handed Shaylinn the two-way radio. “Call Levi. See if he answers.”

Shaylinn took the radio and started for the Snowcrest apartments, but an enforcer’s car pulled into the parking lot. Shaylinn reversed their direction, but before they reached the next building, another enforcer’s car pulled off the road right in front of them, emergency lights flashing. The officer climbed out and started toward them.

Shaylinn fumbled to press the button on the radio. “Levi? Are you there?” She turned back to the Snowcrest and yelped at the nearness of two enforcers coming their way. She tugged Jemma and Kendall off the sidewalk and through a circular flower bed. Before they reached the other side, one of the officers cut them off. The three officers were closing in. Shaylinn didn’t know what to do.

“Levi,” she said into the radio. “Levi, we need help.”

“Get away from us, you creeps!” Naomi yelled.

“Don’t be upset, girls,” Kendall said. “I love that you tried to help.”

Shaylinn shoved the radio into her pillowcase and hugged Kendall. “I’m so sorry we failed.”

Jemma hugged Kendall next. “I love you, sweet girl. I’ll be praying for you.”

“I love you too, femmy,” Kendall said.

An enforcer pointed his gun at Shaylinn. “Don’t move! Put your hands behind your neck.”

Shaylinn obeyed. And with that, the enforcers arrested them all.

K
endall’s in labor!” Ciddah’s yell carried all the way to exam room three, where Mason was cleaning the Wyndo screen. It was very early in the morning, and the place was dead. “I’ll contact Luella at her private number and let her know to meet me over there.”

Mason ran to Rimola’s desk in time to see Ciddah call the elevator. “Can I come?”

Ciddah turned and frowned. “I’m sorry, Mason. Outsiders are prohibited from the procedure.”

“Why?”

The elevator dinged and slid open. Ciddah stepped inside and set her palm against the door. “Since an outsider tried to kidnap our babies tonight.”

Outsider? Levi? Jemma
? Mason ran around the desk. “Tell me what happened? Was anyone hurt?”

“Jemma, Naomi, Shaylinn, and Kendall tried to run,” Ciddah said. “Don’t worry. They’re all fine. They took Kendall to the Medical Center and the others to the RC.”

“Rehabilitation Center?” Mason stopped in front of the elevator.

Ciddah lowered her hand, and the door slid closed.

Mason mumbled to the closed elevator, “Kendall and Naomi’s babies are
not
yours.”

He ran to the stairwell and pulled open the door, completely abandoning the SC. He took the stairs down the five levels and hailed a taxi to his apartment in the Westwall. By the time he held the two-way radio, he had to catch his breath before he could speak.

“This is Eagle Eyes calling Jackrabbit, come in.” There was no answer, so he repeated his call. He glanced at the clock. It was 5:49 a.m. Levi had to be home. “Jackrabbit, you copy?”

The radio crackled, and a weak voice spoke. “Jackrabbit here. What’s your tidings?”

“Uh …” Mason scrambled to come up with some kind of code. “Buttercup and her little sister and Stampede’s other half and uh … Buttercup’s friend, uh, Springing Heifer. They made a run for it because Springing Heifer was about to … uh … spring. Now Buttercup is in the fishtrap. Over.” Mason rubbed his eyes and hoped Levi could translate that ridiculous message.

“Did you say Buttercup is in the fishtrap?
My
Buttercup?”

“That’s a 10–4, Jackrabbit. Buttercup, her little sister, and Stampede’s other half are all
in
the fishtrap. Over.”

A stretch of silence passed. Mason pictured Levi either destroying his apartment or sitting up in his bed with his forehead wrinkled as he tried to figure out what Mason was talking about in the middle of the night.

“That’s a 10–4.” Levi said finally. “We stick with the plan and hope they get out. Cut some Zs, Eagle Eyes. But let me know if you hear anything else. Copy?”

“Copy. Over and out.”

Mason made his way back to the SC and finished his shift, then went home.

He slept until his doorbell buzzed at almost eleven thirty in the morning. Who would ever visit his place? Levi?

He rolled out of bed and opened the front door, eyes half closed.

Ciddah stood outside his doorway holding two bags. The smell of
eggs mingled with Ciddah’s everyday scent of vanilla and cinnamon knocked him back a step.

She took advantage of his surprise and swept past him into his kitchen. She looked tired, but he’d never seen her smiling so wide. He liked it.

“Good morning,” she said as she reached into her bag. “I hope you’re hungry.”

He awoke quickly then. “I … well …” He surveyed his apartment. Not too bad, actually. The shirt he’d worn last night lay on the floor in the doorway to his bedroom. He swiped it up, then realized he was wearing only his scrubs bottoms. He clutched the dirty shirt over his bare chest. “Uh … be right back.”

He darted into his bedroom, tossed the shirt into his laundry pile, and pulled a fresh one over his head. Green shirt, navy blue pants. It would have to do.

When he returned to the living room, Ciddah was setting out omelets and toast.

“You brought me breakfast,” he said.

“You’re welcome. I felt bad about the way I left you alone in the SC.”

“How’s Kendall?”

“Good. Very good. I’m sorry you weren’t able to witness the birth. It was incredible. The surgeons said she was too far along to stop labor, so they let her deliver naturally. They were as nervous as I was. There hasn’t been a natural birth in the Safe Lands in ten years.”

“The baby’s okay?”

She squealed and clapped her hands. “He’s absolutely precious! He’s in the nursery already getting comfortable.”

Mason closed his eyes. He wanted to yell, but this wasn’t Ciddah’s fault. It was so much bigger.
How can I possibly do any good in this place
? Were his people and other outsiders like Kendall doomed to a life here, slowly killing themselves and being bred like cattle?

A sniffle caused him to open his eyes. Ciddah stood in his kitchen, one hand on the counter, the other covering her mouth. She was crying.

Without thinking, Mason was at her side. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I lied.” Ciddah sniffled. “It was awful.” Another sniffle. “Kendall was completely out of control. The birth went fine, but not what happened afterward. Lawten had promised she could hold the child, but in light of her attempted escape, he said there was no way he could allow that to happen. But she was awake when the baby came and —” She broke into another long sob.

Mason stared at her face as it transformed before him. Her tears washed a stream of black from her eyes, down her cheeks. He handed her a wet cloth to clean her face, and the eye makeup smeared with cream-colored liquid, becoming gray goo. All this time, the smoothness of her skin had been painted on. In the clean streaks on her cheeks, Mason could see her real skin, cracked, transparent. He’d always known—in his head, at least—that she was infected, but her perfect appearance had made it seem possible that she really was just a healthy young woman.

To see hints of her true face … he wanted to hold her. But he also wanted to push her out into the hall and shut the door. No, he wanted to wash away the paint and see what she really looked like.

He didn’t know what he wanted.

Ciddah went on, oblivious to her exposure. “Kendall … I’ve never seen anyone fight off sedation.” She sniffled. “We had to give her three doses before she calmed down.”

“It’s a terrible crime,” Mason said, thinking of the thin plague that made Ciddah hide behind so much paint, thinking of Kendall mourning the loss of her child.

“I know!” Ciddah choked in a few calming breaths. “Jemma and Shaylinn and Naomi. Their twisted priorities robbed Kendall of her chance to hold the child.”

Mason set his jaw. “I wasn’t talking about that, Ciddah.” He walked into the living room to put some space between them. “A woman’s child was taken. It’s the worst crime I can imagine—the greatest evil.”

Ciddah stomped toward him, her face a glistening mess. “Don’t you
dare
call me evil, Mason Elias.” She shoved his chest with both
hands. “I did my job.” She shoved him again. “I can’t help that you don’t understand.”

When she came at him again, he caught her wrists and held them. “I understand. You’re only doing what you’ve been taught is right. But, Ciddah.” He pulled her hands against his chest. “What if you were taught wrong? Ignorance is no excuse for evil.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “
Again
you call me evil.”

“Not
you,
Ciddah.”

She tried to pull away, but Mason held tightly.

“I thought you were starting to understand,” she said. “I thought tasking in the SC was helping you see that our ways aren’t
so
bad.” But then she moaned, a soft sound like a distant wasp that slowly grew into jagged sobs. It reminded him of his aunt last spring, who’d wailed after her child came stillborn. He wrapped his arms around Ciddah and held her close, wondering what she was mourning the loss of.

A
messenger brought me this,” Omar said, holding up a gold envelope so the task director general’s receptionist could see it. “It said to come at nine this morning.”

“Have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Omar sat and patted his chest pocket, comforted by the feel of his new vaporizer. He’d vaped in the elevator, but he was so nervous he wanted another puff. Why had he been summoned? He bet the woman doctor Mason tasked for had told Renzor that Omar had gotten infected. Some angel.

Twenty minutes passed before the receptionist sent him in. He knocked on the door out of respect. Or maybe it was guilt. Trying to suck up to the big task man.

“Enter.” Kruse’s voice.

Omar took a deep breath and entered the office, stopping before the task director’s desk. Kruse stood in his usual place by the task director’s side.

Omar sat, annoyed at how soft the chairs were, as if comforting his backside was going to make this any less painful. “You wanted to see me, sir?”