Implanted (The Ascension Series Book 2) (14 page)

Chapter 30

RETTER

“Wolf! Stop,” Ret shouted.

But the venting continued to rattle and shake with her clumsy scrambling as she moved out from the shadow and into the thick beyond. Ret turned to Pete. Before he could open his mouth to speak, however, Pete rocketed into the darkness, adding his own resonance to the already gonging pipe. Within a matter of moments, the rattling transformed into a deep droning. Then a hum. And, finally, a gentle purr.

They were both gone. Swallowed into the void.

Ret looked over his shoulder and five sets of eyes, all wide with fear, peered at him through the dim shadows. One began to sniffle and soon another joined in, adding, “I want to go home,” dragging out his last word into a high-pitched moan. One-by-one they added their voices until the tunnel rang in a chorus of wails.

Because he’d blindly followed Pete here, Ret had no idea where they actually were camped within the dark labyrinth. Therefore, he also had no clue of the venting code needed to exit at their current location. Then again, even if he did, he couldn’t bring the kids into the open hallways.

Ret was also pretty sure Pete wouldn’t return without Wolf. They had no choice. They’d simply have to wait for Pete and/or Wolf to return.

He picked up the Light Ninja and examined its brilliance. As his hand moved across the display, his eye caught the enormous shadow moving on the tunnel ceiling. A smile crept across his face as Ret formed his hand into a mouth like Pete had done.

“Woof, Woof.”

The kids began to quiet and Ret continued the show with Fido the tunnel dog. He added in his own flavor, imitating the sounds of geese and baby chicks, while manipulating his hands to duplicate the likeness of a small bird. Soon a few of the children joined in, imitating his sounds and they all began to cluck and laugh.

As they played and waited, however, Ret noticed the light begin to wane. Although barely noticeable, it alerted him to the fact that even this device wouldn’t last forever. He looked over his shoulder into the darkness and shuddered at the thought of being trapped in this maze with nothing to light the way. How much longer could they wait? Could he navigate them back to the exit on his own?

On a weary exhale, he turned back to face the crew. He looked into each face and from youngest to oldest addressed them by name.

“Jamie.”

“Adam.”

“Erin.”

“Arnold.”

“Josiah.”

He swallowed hard and felt the searing of his dry throat. Fear or no fear, the time had come to lead them out. He tucked the Ninja under his headband and then lifted the soft cord by his side. He whispered for Jamie, and she scooched forward. Ret took hold of her tiny hand and looped the cord around her wrist. Jamie spat the hair out of her mouth and slurped back her spit. She turned to Adam, the next boy in line.

“Hold up your hand, Adam. Superman is taking us home.”

After assembling them all in a line, they began the trek. Ret kept his full focus on tunnel navigation, and tried to keep his mind from wandering to the fear of the dwindling light supply. The kids had quieted with the only sounds behind him an occasional whisper or sniffle. He chose to keep the Agora at his back, knowing they had to move far away from the hub to get to the West Wing. He imagined the trip he took with Pete and attempted to reverse their movements, opting for left where they had turned right and up where they’d gone down. As the circle of light continued to shrink, his brain warred with the claustrophobia that moved in around him.

Eventually, he felt a soft tapping on his boot. He figured one of the frightened kids might be hungry, or even worse, need to use the bathroom. Ret halted the procession, turned around, and smiled at the kids. “Everyone okay?”

Jamie spat out her hair and wiped the spit from her mouth. Then she lifted her hand and pointed. Her small finger glistened with saliva, and as Ret looked in the direction she pointed, he felt a smile creep across his face.

Glistening like Jamie’s wet fingers and glowing as it had when Ret had first painted it overhead, lay an illuminated arrow pointing to the way.

They were almost home.

Chapter 31

FRAN

Fran’s hands slapped at the tunnel’s cold surface and though she’d become numb to the ache in her hand, her knees scraped across occasional splinters of metal, opening the freshly-crusted wounds on her legs. She counted the beat of her pulse as it drummed past her ears and wore the vibrations of the tunnel like a cloak, hiding in its resonance and drowning out the shouts of Pete who begged her to stop. Although her worst nightmare had returned, she had to keep moving.

Blind and not knowing or caring what direction she travelled, Fran scampered through her old darkness. She just needed to get far away.

From Ret.

From the kids.

From Pete.

Would she know when it happened? The precise moment the screens lit up with her stats? The second that the eyes of an underpaid techy shot open and his heart raced knowing he’d found the elusive Rebel? Or would she just skulk through the darkness until starvation and dehydration claimed her as their prize?
Whatever
.
Just keep moving
. She made it her mantra. Keep moving until arms and legs refused to carry her any further.

Pete’s shouts, broken with sharp-edged panic, cut through the darkness as he pleaded for her to stop. She remembered how his arms had held her as he fended off the horror of this world and how the mess of Impervious could fade away when he whispered her name.

Images of her parents warred in her head with the visual carnage of the fallen Rebels. She owed them each her life. Fran groaned into the darkness. No matter what plan of action she took, someone would suffer. Frustration bellowed from deep within cutting through her deafness, and a sob formed. The thought she’d harbored for what seemed like an eternity heaved from inside.

“I should’ve been the one!”

The words echoed through the tunnel and lodged in her brain. If she sacrificed herself to the hungry Council, would it satiate their bellies long enough to save the rest? Hot tears felt cool on her burning flesh as they coursed over her cheeks and dribbled into her open mouth. Their saltiness fueled her forward and her nostrils flared as she pulled in her next breath.

Time to end this war
.

She focused on her hand taps, counting off and reclaiming the familiarity of the darkness. Cohesion took place between arms and legs and she moved with the dexterity of a cougar she’d seen in the high grasses.

No. A wolf. She moved like a wolf. Her ears perked up as she honed in on the sounds around her. On the periphery of Pete’s bellows, she detected the thundering energy of the Agora.

She took note of the landmarks—ones that would go unnoticed by an untrained tunnel trekker. The familiar hairline crack running across the floor grazed her knee, and she scooted to the side to avoid the heads of the rivets which she knew would follow to mark the section break. The lip of a fastener alerted her to the “T” up ahead—a juncture she’d traversed hundreds of times. A right turn would take her to the Agora. A left to her old sleeping niche.

She hugged the wall, eased to the right, and as she came out of the turn, the stench of the old playground filled her nostrils. The air reeked with decaying life. The remembrance of war burned in her nostrils. Could this even be the same smell that had brought a smile to her face just a few weeks prior?

As she drew closer to the hub, a speck of light—no bigger than a pinhead—began to expand in size until she could make out a full circle of brilliance. Shadowy murkiness replaced the midnight black and the outline of her hands began to take shape. She picked up her speed, undaunted by the warm trickle of blood as it seeped from freshly-opened wounds.

A moment before she crossed the threshold of light, a hand grabbed her boot.

“Wolf. Stop.”

He had no right to tell her what to do and his throaty whisper, laced with authority, had no impact. He didn’t know her peril.

She yanked her foot away and tried to belly forward, but something grabbed hold of her other foot. Before she could kick him away, Pete hurdled on top of her—pinning her in a suffocating hold. She wriggled and jerked her body in an attempt to free herself, but he held on tighter.

“I’m not going to let you go again.”

Chapter 32

RETTER

This next stage of the journey would prove to be the slowest and most difficult. He wished he could exit with the kids and take the elevator to the Ranch. Had anyone even noticed them missing yet? Ret had racked his brain for another way, but this was it. He couldn’t risk it. They were too close.

He blew out a breath and wiped his gritty neck while gazing over the queue of kids. They watched him, eyes filled with expectation, while he formulated the plan. He noticed Erin, the girl with the soft brown hair and quiet demeanor. Probably nine or ten years old and nearing the Age of Accountability.

He smiled and called her forward. She flinched, as if she wasn’t used to being noticed. “You’ll go first.”

Her shoulders lifted and she wore an expression that wavered between a smile and a frown. Her eyes did a quick roll skyward as she panned the dark chute and spoke up with a voice not much louder than a whisper. “Why me?”

Ret urged her forward and loosened the light from its strap. He eased the leather cord off his forehead and tied it around Erin’s, taking care not to tangle her fine brown strands into the tie. He leaned in and whispered, “Because you’re the strongest,” before standing to address her in a voice the whole group could hear. 

“I’ll be the lifter.” He patted her shoulder and nudged her toward the opening. “You’ll hold my light and help guide the others.”

Erin inched forward until she sat below the opening and then turned back to Ret. He nodded and knelt down next to her. “They’ll be scared. Just keep calm and organized.” Then he tapped his own shoulders and nodded. “Hop on.”

As soon as she climbed onto Ret’s shoulders, he rose to his full height. She’d still have to pull herself up onto the landing, but he knew she could do it. Erin wriggled her body, lifted herself, and with a small kick and scraping of her boot against his jaw, moved onto the landing. 

“Okay.” She looked over the side and the light flashed into Ret’s eyes. “I’m ready.”

“You did great, Erin. Now just keep that light shining.”

Ret ducked and moved out of the chute. He could barely see the faces from the glow emitting above, but felt the tension that hung in the shadows—silent and thick.

“Adam. You’re next.”

The kids shuffled to the side and Adam made his way up from the back.

“Did you see how I did it with Erin?”

Adam nodded.

“Alright, then tough guy,” Ret crouched low, “up you go.”

Lacking the gentle grace of Erin, and with a few digs of his heels into Ret’s back, Adam wrestled his way up until seated on Ret’s shoulders. As soon as he stood, Ret felt a searing in his scalp as Adam yanked a handful of hair to balance himself. Then, Adam jammed his heels into Ret’s shoulders, and with a quick wallop that left Ret’s ears ringing, joined Erin on the landing. The two whispered and giggled as Ret reeled from their unintended wounds. Of course they didn’t know.

Three more to go.

He felt a trickle move from his temple along his jaw line. Could be sweat, could be blood. He swiped the back of his hand over the moisture and moved on, not allowing it to slow him down. His skin felt raw and he swallowed hard. His mouth, lips, and throat screamed for relief.

He knelt down and captured the attention of the remaining three. Jamie wriggled her way forward. “Me next,” she declared and attempted to crawl up Ret’s back.

Ret respected her boldness. “How about I lift you up instead?” He picked up the small girl and as he stood upright in the chute, lifted her overhead. She squealed as he passed her off to Adam and Erin.

Next Josiah and then Arnold were secured onto the landing, and after rubbing a few new battle wounds, Ret jumped, gripped the edge of the landing, and pulled himself upward. He surveyed the bunch and noticed they seemed to have lost their initial fear, and instead appeared excited for round two.

Ret rubbed his neck and shoulders, drew in a deep breath, and then called Erin forward to begin the next round.

Chapter 33

FRAN

After she promised Pete she’d stay put, he released his hold. Fran sat up and on a huff smoothed her gown. The light from the Agora lit up the tunnel enough to make out their shadowy forms, and even though she’d scampered, climbed, and wrestled all day in the attire of a villager, Fran felt a familiar wave of her old self-consciousness as she sat across from Pete in her silky robe. She tucked the edges under her bottom and pinched together a tear in the fabric before folding her knees to the side. As her eyes honed in on Pete, she saw him lift a brow, while he watched her gather the hem.

Fran returned the sentiment with a snort. “Not quite like the old days, huh?”

Pete shook his head and cleared his throat. “Why were you running?”

Fran heaved a sigh and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “It’s complicated.”

Pete shrugged. “I’ve got plenty of time,” he said, as he eased his back against the pipe.

Fran, glad for the space, drew in a breath. She wanted nothing more than to say, “
Never mind. I just lost my head.
”  She knew Pete would blame himself when she told him about the water. Then again, if she didn’t tell him, she could be setting him up for a catastrophic fail. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she weighed her options. Pete gave a quick nod of his head to her spur her on.

“Well. I mean …” Fran puffed out a breath. “Don’t you wonder how the Graphies always seem to know where you are?”

“What do you mean,
know
where I am?”

“Well, you said it yourself. Every time you try to exit, a Graphie appears by the vent.”

Pete hissed out a laugh. “Bad timing?”

He had a gift of making everything seem okay. So normal. Just watching him shrug away what would’ve sent her into a complete tailspin made her realize why she liked him. He softened her edges—covered her saltiness with his own brand of sweet. Even with his hair standing on end and bony shoulders poking like razor blades through his shirt, she wanted to lean in and let his casual calm cover her. She pretended to adjust her gown and scooted a smidge closer.

“They can track us all, Pete. Every single person inside of the city. We’re tagged just like cattle in the sub-floor ranch.”

Pete reached behind his neck as if looking for the metal tag.

“No, Pete. Not like that.” She pointed to her empty satchel. “It’s in the water.”

“What? How? That doesn’t make any sense.
Everyone
drinks water. Even
you
—”

Pete’s last words hung in the air. His jaw hung and his eyes took on a faraway look.

“I was cleaned, Pete. Outside. They called it a detox. It worked. I am, or
was
free.”

“Ret?” Pete whispered.

“Clean.”

Pete stopped and held up a finger as if he could somehow disprove her theory.  “What about the kids?”

“They still have a little time. It doesn’t kick in until our hormones do. Right around the time we were learning
The Art of a Perfect Kiss
, the Council’s army was setting up camp in our bodies.”

“And so you’re saying?”

“I’m saying that once we’ve detoxed, we can live outside without worry. I’m saying that to truly go off the grid, we can’t partake in their ways. I’m saying—”

Pete’s whisper cut Fran off. “That until I fed you water, you were free.”

Fran nodded and watched as Pete’s expression grew with horror. “Oh no. Oh no.” His head shook. “No!” He smacked himself in the forehead. “Wolf, what did I
do
?”

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe nothing. That’s what I was hoping to find out.”

Pete looked at her like she’d gone mad. “Out there? You were going to go
out there
and test the waters? What, are you on a suicide mission?”

“Something like that,” she muttered under her breath.

Pete shook his head. “Not on my watch.” He crossed his arms, shot out his legs and planted his feet on the opposing wall, creating a human blockade. 

Fran rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You think that will stop me?”

“No.” Pete allowed his feet to slide along the metal. His chin dropped and he blew out an enormous sigh, like he’d been holding his breath for a lifetime. He looked up at Fran, and began to speak with a sort of softness—new and totally out of character for Pete.

“Fran, I’ve had plenty of crud heaped upon this long life. To be honest? I almost get where you’re coming from. I mean, there were plenty of times when I thought it would be easier to die than to walk another loser day around this loser city.”

Pete dropped his gaze and examined his hands. Without looking back up, he continued, “I’d wander the Agora numb, wondering if I would be better off just to sign the Forfeiture papers and get it all over with. Who would even notice if I was gone? What did it matter?” 

Pete folded deeper into himself, nodded, and Fran watched him relive his old pain. On a snort, he lifted his head and the old smile reemerged. “But then, on a day just like any other, I saw a dirty and tattered wolf prowling through the crowd, snatching bits and pieces of chow out from underneath unsuspecting noses of the elite.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “So I followed that wolf around the Agora, eager to see what she’d do next. That’s when I noticed hidden below all the grime, those blue eyes. Steely. Confident. They reflected something I hadn’t seen since …” Pete shook his head, “… well,
ever
.”

As Pete opened his heart to Fran, a ball welled in her chest so big, she feared it might pop on the smallest breath. The miniscule light in their space seemed to grab hold of Pete’s eyes and bounced off a single tear as it picked a path across his cheek.

Pete snuffed and wiped his cheek onto his shirt. “Hope, Fran. You gave me hope.” He laughed a mucus-encased guffaw. “And, when you’re gone, that hope disappears right along with you.” 

His voiced dropped to a whisper. “Please don’t go.”

Fran scooted in close and Pete lifted an arm to welcome her. She tucked herself in the perfect crevasse that formed and leaned her head onto his shoulder. Tired of worrying and tired of waiting for the world to be set right, she closed her eyes and listened to Pete’s heart. His thumb rubbed soothing circles on her head, bringing her back to that first kiss.

“Let’s go find Ret,” Pete said.

“Give me just another minute,” Fran answered as her world darkened.