Captives (49 page)

Omar drew his own stunner and followed, but by the time he reached Charlz’s back, the clicking of Charlz’s weapon had stopped and an enforcer lay on his side, moaning. Omar took the man’s weapons and handcuffs, which he used to secure the enforcer’s arms behind his back, then dragged the man into the bathroom and ripped off his shoulder radio. Omar attached the radio to his shoulder and returned to the guards’ chamber.

Charlz was sitting at the front desk still wearing his Finley mask. “I’m Finley Gray, coming to you live from the RC. Find pleasure in life.”

Omar glanced up at the camera and hoped Skottie had it covered. “Only one guard?”

“It’s three in the morning, peer.”

Omar looked at the computer screen, though the information meant little to him. “You find them?”

“Cell thirty-nine and forty. Should be all the way to the end.”

A man’s yell drew their attention to the bathroom. The guard.

“I’ll take care of him.” Charlz said. “Get your people.”

Omar held his stunner ready in case there were guards inside, and, with a long breath, he opened the door.

The cell block was dark but for three lights evenly spaced along the ceiling. Omar knew from his training tour that they shut down most of the lights at ten o’clock each night. No sign of enforcers. He strode down the aisle, his breath a steady hiss against the rubber mask.

His gaze darted back and forth across the aisle, checking the cell numbers.
Ten, eleven … sixteen, seventeen … Halfway there.
He glanced up at a yellow surveillance camera and really hoped Skottie had been able to get his girl to help.

When he reached the end, he nearly stepped on Levi and Jemma’s arms, which were stretched out into the corridor, fingers intertwined.
The way they were both lying on the floor against the bars, he couldn’t open either cell without waking them.

He stood there, frustrated, trying to decide which to open first. An image of Levi choking him to death popped into his mind. He spoke into the enforcer’s shoulder radio. “E112 to Highland Gatekeeper, requesting entry to prison cell forty.”

“Please verify identification,” a woman’s voice replied.

Omar set his fist against the black pad on the cell door and held his breath. Come on, Skottie. His girl better come through.

“Identification verified,” the woman said.

Omar blew out his relief and nudged the door open. Jemma sighed dreamily, released Levi’s hand, and rolled over enough that Omar was able to squeeze inside. He crouched, reached for Jemma’s shoulder and —

“What are you doing?” Levi’s voice made Omar jump. “Get away from her!”

Omar turned to see Levi standing at the door of his cell, gripping the bars and glaring.

“It’s me, brother,” Omar said, remembering his mask. He spoke into the radio again. “E112 to Highland Gatekeeper, requesting entry to prison cell thirty-nine.”

“Please verify identification.”

Omar slipped out of Jemma’s cell and set his fist against the pad on Levi’s door. “Keep your voice down, or you’ll wake everyone,” he said to Levi.

“You betrayed me again, Omar. What’s your angle this time?” Levi asked.

“Identification verified,” the woman said.

Omar pushed in the door. “To get you and Jemma out of here.”

Levi glanced at the stunner in Omar’s hand. “You going to shoot me with that?”

“No! Look, I’m sorry about before. I’m trying to make it right. But we don’t have much time, so come on!” Omar ran back into Jemma’s cell and grabbed her arm. “Jemma! Wake up!”

Levi tackled him from behind, and Omar felt all air leave his body. Levi smashed Omar’s face against the concrete, and though Omar tucked his chin to protect his nose, his right temple slammed into the ground. Blinding pain shot all the way down his neck. The mask was little cushion.

“Stop it!” Jemma said. “Levi, don’t!”

The weight vanished from Omar’s back. It took a moment to straighten the mask, and when his eyes looked out through the holes, the cell was empty. He pushed up to his feet and saw Levi and Jemma halfway down the aisle, standing at another cell. Levi shook the door.

“Who’s in there?” Omar asked, jogging to catch up. “One of ours?”

“None of your business,” Levi said.

“E112 to Highland Gatekeeper requesting entry to prison cell …” Omar glanced up. “Eighteen.”

“Please verify identification.”

Omar pressed his fist to the pad on the door just as Levi slammed his shoulder into Omar, knocking him out of the way. Omar stumbled to the side and barely caught himself on the bars.

“Levi, stop!” Jemma said.

But Levi pushed past her and grabbed Omar’s shirtfront. “Stay away from me.” He slammed Omar against the cell grate. The back of Omar’s head struck —

“… now, Omar? Huh?”

Omar blinked. Two bars pressed into his back. He squinted. What had Levi asked? “Uh … I’m trying to …” Omar said, struggling to breathe over the pain throbbing in his temple and the back of his head, straining to remember. “Make it right. That’s all. Know I can’t, but …” He choked back a sob. “Just trying, okay? Should … hurry.”

“Identification verified.” The woman’s voice came through the speaker on his arm.

The door clicked open. Levi elbowed past, knocking Omar to the ground again. A wave of dizziness swept over him. He stumbled into bars on his right and took a deep breath, watching as Levi and Jemma helped a man with a bandaged leg out of cell eighteen. Omar grabbed
the nearest bars and stepped toward them, but his leg gave out. He fell, nausea gripped him, and he threw up.

“Omar!” Jemma appeared at his side. “Levi, help!”

“I’m helping Zane!”

Jemma’s face swam before Omar’s, a haze of beauty and concern. He opened his mouth to tell her how pretty she was, how he missed looking at his drawing that used to hang above his bed. But her face went away, and Levi was there, scowling like always.

“You never … smile,” Omar said. “Why you … hate me, brother?”

The scowl faded to a look of shock. Levi heaved Omar up to a standing position, but Omar’s legs still weren’t working. Omar slumped in Levi’s arms.

“Wasn’t supposed to happen,” Omar whispered. “Forgive me.”

Levi crouched and bent Omar’s body over his shoulder.

The rest was a blur. Omar floated. Charlz spoke. Stairs. Screaming. Clicking stunners. Levi’s voice. A yelling woman—not Jemma. Cool night air on his face. No mask. Sleep …

When Omar opened his eyes, his head was in Jemma’s lap, her fingertips brushing through his hair. He wanted to stay in this place forever. But then the pain came, swelling from within, crushing his skull.

“He tried to set things right, Levi, and you could have killed him,” Jemma said. “He asked forgiveness. You should respect that.”

“Are you hearing yourself, Jem? He may as well have killed eighteen people with his own hand. Not to mention whatever happened to your mother and mine. How can I respect that?”

“And are you hearing yourself? He asked forgiveness. End of story.”

“Jem —”

“Anyone who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.” Jemma looked down on Omar then, met his gaze, and said softly, “I forgive you, Omar.”

O
mar’s friend Charlz drove Levi and the others to the back of the Bradbury—the place Jordan had taken the women underground the night of Lonn’s liberation. Zane cut out Omar and Jemma’s SimTags. He put Omar’s in a pair of gloves, but destroyed Jemma’s. He didn’t think he could handle another trek through the storm drains on his leg, so Zane asked Charlz to drive him to the Highlands Public Task department, likely to see Dayle. He took Omar’s gloves with him, promising to lead the enforcers on a pointless chase until Omar decided what to do next.

Levi, Jemma, and Omar traveled the storm drains until morning, making their way to the underground bunker. Evidently, Jordan had removed all Levi’s purple crayon marks—smart thinking—to erase their trail, but it made it difficult for Levi to find the way.

When he finally located their destination, he made Omar stand back in the darkness of the tunnel. “Until I can talk to Jordan,” Levi said. He stepped into the alcove that held the bunker door, took hold of Jemma’s hand, and gave the secret knock.

The door swung in and revealed Jordan’s smiling face. “What took you so long? I’ve been waiting all —
Jemma!”
He hugged her, kissed the
top of her head, and rocked back on his heels, lifting her feet off the ground. “So glad to see you, sister.”

“Everyone’s here?” Jemma asked. “Everyone’s okay? Shaylinn? Mama?”

Jordan’s brows drew together. “We’ve got the women from the harem, all but Mia and Jennifer, who wouldn’t come. But the liberation thing … It didn’t work out.”

Levi stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“When Bender got there, no one was there. Turns out the liberations are recorded in advance.”

“Why would that be?” Levi asked.

“We learned about this when we were in the harem,” Jemma said. “It’s so they can edit them. If they film in advance, they can make sure the people see only what the directors want them to see.”

“Yeah”—Jordan shrugged—”that’s pretty much what that Bender guy said too.”

So … Levi’s mother was already dead? Or was liberation something else? He couldn’t have lost his mother too. “What about the children? You come up with a plan to rescue them?”

Jordan snorted. “You kidding? Most of the women are paranoid because Mason didn’t cut the SimTags out of their faces, and every mother here has a different plan for how to get her children back. I’m not cut out to be Elder of dung. I’m so glad you’re here to take over.”

Levi doubted he could handle the tension any better. First things first: He had to fix this mess with Omar. “I need a favor, Jordan. And you must promise not to hurt him.”

Jordan’s brow wrinkled low over his eyes. “Who?”

“Promise me.”

“Yeah, if you say so. I promise.”

Levi stepped back, reached around the corner, and pulled Omar out by the arm.

Jordan eyes flashed. He tried to push past Levi, but Levi held him back. Before Levi could react further, Jordan spun the other way, knocked past Jemma, and slid to his knees on the storm drain,
splashing into the shallow water. He grabbed Omar by the legs and yanked him onto his rear. “You rabid, dung-licking …” Jordan pushed Omar’s head into the water.

“Jordan, no!” Jemma yelled.

Omar squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips together, though the water only reached his ears. He tried to squirm free. “I’m sorry! Don’t hurt me!”

“Yeah, beg, you poor excuse for a maggot.” Jordan scooped water over Omar’s face.

Levi grabbed Jordan’s waist and pulled him back. “You promised me!”

“Get off, Levi. This needs to be done.”

“You want me to be the elder? You’ve got to respect my word. And I say stop it, now!”

Jordan elbowed Levi and crawled to standing. “Yeah, okay,
Elder Levi.
But you’ve got to convince me why I can’t kill him. Can you do that, huh?”

“Yes. But I need you to keep him safe until I can prepare the women for his arrival. Can you hide him somewhere without anyone seeing him?”

Jordan growled. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Without hurting him?”

“I said yeah.”

“Do it then.” Levi helped Omar stand, and they all followed Jordan inside. Jordan secured the door and led them down a short tunnel. It smelled stale, as if it had been ignored for years.

“The big room with the kitchen and TV is to the right,” Jordan said. “The bedrooms and bathroom are to the left. I’m gonna take your swine-stinking brother to my room.”

“Actually,” Levi said, “now that I’ve seen the layout, just hold him right here. I’ll only need a minute. I’ll call you in.”

“You’re the elder,
Elder.
”

Levi ignored Jordan’s snark, knowing how hard it must be for Jordan not to pound Omar into flatbread. A few yards ahead, the hallway
ended in a rotted wooden door. Levi and Jemma pushed it open. The “big room” wasn’t all that big. It had a one-wall kitchen on the end, three round tables with chairs in the center, some ratty couches, and an Old TV.

“Jemma!” Shaylinn ran to the door and hugged her sister. “They found you.”

The next half hour was a mix of mourning and celebration in the bunker under the Midlands. Levi didn’t know which to feel, as he still had Omar to deal with. He finally brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled. “Listen up, everyone. We should make a plan to get you all out of here. I’d like to take you to Jack’s Peak, where you’ll have some protection until I can figure out how to get to the kids.”

“What about the children?” Eliza asked. “We need to get them out of here.”

“They’re all alone …” Mary’s words disintegrated into sobs.

Aunt Chipeta smiled at Levi. “We appreciate your wanting to protect us, but none of us could live with ourselves if we simply left. That you got us out of the harem has given everyone hope we will see our children again.”

Perhaps there was some way they could all help. “I don’t know what they do with liberated people. I hope they’re not … Well, we need to find out. But Mason says the kids are in the boarding school or the caretaking facilities. The enforcers are going to be watching both closely for a while. So we need to be patient. And forgiving. I know this is really stressful on everyone, but we need to stand together. Love each other. Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Aunt Chipeta said.

“What’s your plan, Levi?” Eliza asked.

Here goes. “First … I ask you all to hold your tongues and open your minds and hearts at what you’re about to see. Jordan!”

The door opened, and Omar stepped into the room with Jordan behind him, broad-shouldered and menacing.

“Oh!” Shaylinn clapped her hand over her mouth.

“What’s
he
doing here?” Mary asked.

“Did you capture him?” Eliza asked.

Levi smiled at Omar, hoping it didn’t look forced. “He freed me and Jemma from the RC.”

“Omar rescued us,” Jemma said.

Eliza narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Let’s see what Omar has to say?” Levi sat down so that Omar would have the floor. His little brother, at only sixteen, looked hunched and frail. His skin was pale, his eyes bloodshot and creased with heavy circles, and the black tattoo that peeked out from his sleeve made him look wild. A true “shell” if Levi had ever seen one.