Renegade (4 page)

The Guards exchange a look. They probably want to argue with me, but the last time one did so, Mother did not take kindly to it. After a long moment, they nod and go to watch over the doors.

I pretend to walk my gardens with nothing on my mind other than removing dead heads of the flowers I pass, but I’m really looking for the boy and keeping an eye out for Enforcers. They aren’t usually in my gardens, but I don’t want to take any chances.

I hum softly under my breath, hoping I appear normal to anyone watching. They’re used to me acting oddly, but I wonder how closely they’re watching me.

Never did I expect my … condition to be of use to me.

When I finally find him, he’s hiding underneath the table used for cuttings. He’s holding my shears in one hand and glaring at me. Inwardly I tense; he is an armed Surface Dweller after all, but I refuse to show how nervous he makes me.

He’s shaking, but I now doubt it is from fear. He doesn’t look afraid. He looks sick. His skin is pale and pasty. His hair is stringy and partially covers his eyes, which are bloodshot.

But he’s strong. The lines of his chest are visible through his shirt, which—along with his pants—is torn and, although covered in mud, clings to his skin. There’s a spray of something red across the front. It’s dark, and I think I smell something rusty.

A memory pushes its way front and center.

He’s dying and it’s my fault because of my carelessness.

He gasps for breath and blood pours from his mouth just as quickly as it comes from his wounds.

With a gasp, I cross my arms over my chest, hugging myself and shaking the memory from my head. I’ll work on figuring that one out later. Right now I need to figure out what to do with the Surface Dweller in front of me.

I kneel, careful not to get too close. He’s quite obviously a Surface Dweller and therefore unpredictable.

“Hello,” I say softly. “I won’t hurt you.”

He shrinks away from me and narrows his eyes, but adjusts his body, bracing his legs. It’s obvious he’s positioning himself to run again.

“Yeah, right.” His voice is scratchy, as if he’s swallowed too much saltwater.

I try again, using a smile this time—
a woman’s best weapon is her smile, unless there’s a loaded Beretta 9mm nearby
. I frown. What an odd thought. “I don’t blame you for not trusting me. You don’t know me, but I assure you, I mean you no harm. My name is Evelyn Winters. I’m the Daughter of the People.”

“Gavin Hunter,” he answers warily.

I smile again, a real one this time, and he blinks, as if surprised.

“Gavin. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

His eyes widen and then narrow, but there is something else in his expression. Hope, maybe? He shakes back his hair, revealing his eyes. His pupils are so dilated it’s almost impossible to see the color of his irises, but they’re gray. I’ve never seen anything like them.

“I’m not sure if I can say the same.” His voice is different than I’m used to. He has an accent, but Mother hasn’t taught me enough about accents to locate where he’s from. It’s slow and lazy and he draws out his vowels. It’s strangely beautiful.

My heart gives a little flutter and I scoot closer. “Are you really a Surface Dweller?”

His eyebrows wing up. “A what?”

“Do you come from the Surface?” I point above our heads, to the water through the glass. A school of brightly colored fish swims by.

He glances around and his eyes land on the fish. They widen and there’s a hint of amazement before they meet mine again.

He gives a slight nod. “I guess I am.”

I glance around to see if anyone has noticed me kneeling here, but when I don’t see anyone, I lean closer. “Are you the one that set off the alarms?”

He looks at the ground and his hands clench over the shears. They snap shut, startling me. His teeth press tightly together and his jaw flexes with the effort.

“Not me. My friend.”

“There’s another like you?” I take a quick look around, wondering how I missed him. I’ll need to find a way to get both of them out of here and somewhere safe. If Mother finds them, she’ll have them shot.
Surface Dwellers have been consumed with hate and violence, and should be considered extremely dangerous. Any Surface Dweller who attempts to break into Elysium should be shot on sight.

My duty is to report them—turn them in to the Guards—but he’s … different. I’m curious about him. Curious about the Surface. If it’s really as Mother says, or if Father’s accounts are more accurate.

But I mustn’t think of Father’s stories. Our little secret. Nothing but bedtime stories.

Gavin glares at me. “Not anymore,” he says, hate peppering his voice. “Y’all took care of that.”

Before I can ask him what he means, I’m jerked back and shoved behind my Guards, who block my view. That tingle of panic I felt when I touched the wind chimes tickles my nerve endings and, for a second, fury curdles in my belly.

Anger is a poison and will eat away at your beauty.

Dizzy, I sway as the words swirl through my mind, erasing the anger. Biting my lip, I stand on tiptoe to peer over the Guards’ shoulders.

Others yank Gavin out from underneath the table, hitting his head in the process. Blood trickles from the small gash on his forehead and into his eyes. He struggles to pull away, but they’re holding him too tightly. I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from coming to his rescue. It will only make things worse if I do.

An Enforcer steps from the shadows with her blank face and dead eyes and aims her pistol at Gavin, awaiting orders from Mother, whose shoes click on the concrete as she approaches. It makes me nervous that despite my vigilance an Enforcer was still able to remain unseen. It appears, even here, Enforcers can hide in plain sight.

It didn’t take long for the Guards to call Mother
,
I think as she pushes her way past them and straight to Gavin, muttering, “I don’t have time for this. First Three and now an SD. What else could go wrong?” Then she takes his chin in her hand and studies him, asking him questions about how he got in and who else is with him, but he ignores her.

His attention is on me, and he’s not happy. He glares at me, but there’s something beneath the surface—something more than just the feeling of betrayal. There’s still a glimmer of hope, and I can’t let it die out.

Knowing what his fate will be if he refuses to answer the questions, I elbow the Guards out of my way and step forward, refusing to even glance at the Enforcer. “Mother, before the Guards placed their hands on me,” I say, and watch as she tenses, “I was getting the Surface Dweller to answer my questions. If I had a few more minutes with him, I could get all the information you are requesting.”

She moves her attention from Gavin to the Guards and I know I’ve effectively distracted her for the moment. “The Guards touched you? Without permission?”

“Yes, Mother,” I say, and the Guards squirm. I squash the little worm of guilt burrowing itself into my stomach lining.

“Which ones?” She stares coldly at them as they avoid looking at either Mother or me.

I pause. I shouldn’t say. I can’t remember why exactly, but I’m sure it would be a mistake. “I’m not exactly certain. It happened very fast.”

She glares at the Guards. “No one is to touch Evelyn again. Ever.”

Gavin raises his brow—it seems to be his way of asking questions without saying a word—but no one else responds. They haven’t been given permission.

Mother turns her attention back to me. “The Surface Dweller was answering your questions?”

She seems honestly curious, which gives me the courage to keep going. “Yes. He seems to trust me.”

“Not anymore,” he mutters under his breath. We ignore him.

“You have your appointment with Dr. Friar soon, Evelyn. But I suppose…” She gives Gavin a considering look with her lips pursed. “Very well. I will permit you to postpone your session for now. This will be the perfect opportunity to see how your training is coming along.” She turns to the Guards. “Take him to the Detainment Center. On full lockdown. If he tries to escape, kill him.”

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

… Peace is not free. For some the cost is too steep. But for the enlightened—for the peoples of this city, those who choose to start anew—peace is worth every sacrifice. To secure the safety of our families, we will pay the cost willingly. No, my friends, there is no cost too high.…

—
M
OTHER,
F
OUNDING
S
PEECH

They have placed him in the deepest, darkest part of the Detainment Center, which is in Sector Two on the bottom-most level, set into the trench wall. Water drips down the walls to form small pools on the concrete floors. It’s dark, dank, and dreary. The exact opposite of everything I’m used to. Most of the time, we have no need for the Center, so it’s not taken care of like the rest of the facility. But Mother delayed me by instructing me on the questions she wanted answers to, and now I have to travel the route by myself.

Some kind of animal—a rat, perhaps?—darts across my path. Mother will not care to hear more rats have found a way in or that maintenance has allowed them to continue breeding. They eat the food supply.

Since it is of no concern to me at the moment, I ignore it.

The click of my shoes echoes back to me and the yellowish lights flicker as I pass. Several times during the trip I pass DNA cameras and turrets set into the wall. Worry tickles my nerves as I pass each one. While rare, it is not completely unheard of that one might go off without provocation. That’s why there are none in the Palace Wing—wouldn’t want one to accidentally go off and shoot Mother, Father, or me.

I finally enter a large room that is divided in half by a glass wall. The half I’m in has a control panel on the wall, but the other half—the one Gavin is in—is completely empty except for a toilet in the corner.

Though it’s fairly large, it makes me feel claustrophobic. I’m used to the openness my ocean-view garden provides me. Even in the other Sectors there’s always some kind of view. There is none here. Not even a tiny glimpse.

The Guards who watch Gavin’s cell straighten when they see me. I breathe easier when I see there is no Enforcer. Gavin, on the other hand, does not even acknowledge my presence, though I’m sure he knows I’m there as he was looking straight at the door when I walked in.

The burliest of the Guards allows me entrance, but locks me in. This, of course, makes me instantly wary. If they are unconcerned he’ll hurt me, what have they done to him?

Even though the floor is the same as outside his cell, the sound of my steps is muffled, which means the cell is soundproofed. A quick glance shows a camera in the far right corner. Anyone who is watching will be able to see everything that happens in the room, even if they can’t hear what we’re saying.

Gavin sits in the far corner, his eyes closed. He doesn’t so much as flinch when I go to him. Something in my chest tightens at what they’ve done to him in the few minutes since I saw him last.

One of his eyes is blackened and swollen shut. There are cuts all over his face. His shirt is bloody and torn, practically into rags. His right arm hangs uselessly by his side. I wonder if it’s broken. However, the skin is split and bleeding over one of his knuckles.

I smile grimly. At least he fought back.

“What do you want?” he asks. His voice is strong, at least. “If you’re going to kill me, can you just get it over with?” His body trembles like before, but he doesn’t open his good eye.

I raise an eyebrow. “Most people don’t beg for death this early.”

That gets his attention. His good eye opens and focuses on me. “How would you know?”

With a cautious look to the camera, I extend a hand to touch his forehead. It’s hot to the touch and I pull my hand away. “You’re running a fever. You didn’t get that from what they did to you. What happened?”

Gavin keeps his mouth shut and his one good eye on me. It’s dilated and bloodshot. Whatever happened to him was bad. He needs medical attention.

He watches me warily as I get up to go to the door and wait for one of the Guards to notice me. I ask for medical supplies and a cleaning kit. I’m not as good as the Healers, but I can do some basic first aid. It appears my humanitarian duties as a volunteer in the Medical Sector will come in handy.

The Guards exchange a look. “Medical attention hasn’t been authorized.”

I smile sweetly. “Neither was the beating this prisoner has endured. Mother requested certain information. I don’t suppose she would be very pleased if the prisoner died before I was able to obtain it, do you?”

They glance at each other again before the younger one shrugs and volunteers to retrieve what I’ve asked for.

“Thank you,” I say, and smile at him.

He blushes and leaves, while I wait patiently for his return. When he does, I slip back into the cell. Gavin watches while I set up my supplies, but says nothing. His trembling is getting worse.

I pull a pressure syringe out of the box and go to take his arm, but he yanks it out of reach. “Stay away from me.”

“I’m trying to help you. You’re sick. If I don’t treat you soon, you could die.”

“So? Y’all are just going to kill me eventually anyway.” He looks away, but not before I see a shadow cross his face.

I’m certain he’s right; Mother wants to kill him. But … I don’t want that to happen. “I know you don’t trust me. I don’t blame you, but I really do want to help you.”

Gavin leans forward with his eyes narrowed. “Just so you can get answers.”

“The answers are what’s keeping you alive until I can figure something else out. But go ahead and be stubborn.” I shrug and pretend I’m absolutely okay with leaving him to rot in the cell. “It’s of no concern to me.” I start repacking the med kit.