SYLO (THE SYLO CHRONICLES) (29 page)

“What about your father?”

“Dead,” was his simple, emotionless answer.

I turned quickly without thinking.

“Turn around,” he demanded again, through clenched teeth.

I turned back to the helipad. Dad was still in an animated discussion with the suits.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Why? It wasn’t your fault.”

“I tried to escape,” I said. “To get off the island and tell people what’s going on here.”

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. “Yeah? And how did that work out for you?” he said, back to his usual sarcastic self.

I ignored the obnoxious comment and said, “There were three of us. I don’t know what happened to Tori Sleeper. My guess is she’s here somewhere. But Quinn is dead.”

“Quinn who?”

I spun back to him. I didn’t care what he or anybody else thought about it.

“Quinn Carr,” I barked. “You know exactly who he is. Don’t pretend you don’t. He doesn’t deserve that because he died trying to help the people on Pemberwick.”

I expected some backpedaling from Kent. What I got instead was unexpected. He had tears in his eyes. I realized then that bold, arrogant Kent Berringer had also reached bottom and was barely holding it together. I turned back around to give him some space.

“They’re watching us,” he said, his voice cracking. “That’s why we’re all here. They want to see who’s working against them. It’s why nobody talks to each other. They don’t want to be accused of conspiring against SYLO.”

I glanced around at the SYLO guards. It suddenly seemed as though they were doing more observing than guarding. Was this
why I was sent out to the recreation area? To see who I would talk to? To see if Kent and I were planning something?

“There was a battle,” I said. “In the air. We saw it from out on the water. Something happened over the mainland. There were planes firing on one another. They had this weapon—it was like a laser or something. It’s what killed Quinn.”

“Who was fighting who?” he asked.

“No idea. SYLO was part of it but I don’t know on which side. I don’t even know what the sides were or what they were fighting over. The only thing I can say for sure is that the truth is being kept from us. There is no Pemberwick virus, Kent. It’s all a lie. The world has to know.”

“I want out,” Kent said. “Out of this camp. Off this island. I want the world to know what Granger is doing…what
everybody
is doing that has anything to do with SYLO. I want to blow this place up.”

As I let Kent’s bold words sink in, I watched my father finish his conversation and get back onto the chopper. Oddly, it was a familiar scene. Not the chopper, but seeing my father in a discussion with guys in suits. It was the kind of thing I saw him do all the time when I was a kid and he worked for the town of Greenwich. He was always fighting for something he believed in. I wondered what he could possibly believe in that was happening on Pemberwick Island.

The rotors sped up and the craft lifted back into the air, headed for…who knew where? It was painful to realize I didn’t know anything at all about who my father really was.

“Then we want the same thing,” I said. “But it won’t be easy. Like you said, we’re being watched and we’re stuck behind some very big fences.”

“How badly do you want it, Rook?” Kent asked, suddenly sounding like his old, brash self. “What are you willing to risk to get out of here and get a little payback?”

“I think I already answered that,” I said, trying to match his bravura. “I tried to escape, remember?”

“But how far are you willing to go?” he asked.

He was getting at something but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Why?”

“Because I can get us out of here,” he said. “Out of this compound. I can even get us a shot at escaping from this island. But you have to want it, desperately, to take the risk.”

I gave his ominous warning some thought then said, “I’ve already lost it all. What more is there to risk?”

“Just your life,” he said.

“I already did that once,” I shot back. “Maybe the second time will be easier.”

There was a long silence. Kent was thinking it over.

“All right, Rook,” he said. “We’ll talk again. Until then…have a ball.”

I stood there waiting for him to say something else.

“Kent?”

No reply.

I turned to see that he was halfway across the compound, strolling away casually. I didn’t like that he was being so mysterious about what he knew, and what his plans were, but I guess when you’re being watched, you can’t be too careful.

I glanced back up to see the helicopter with my father onboard flying away. I was filled with both sadness and anger. I knew I would have
to confront him at some point, but that wouldn’t be soon. A reckoning would come, but not until I had taken back a little control.

I took a step to head back into the compound and accidentally kicked something on the ground.

Kent’s white Wiffle ball went skittering across the grass. Had he dropped it without knowing? Or had he left it there?

Have a ball.

That’s what he said. Was he being literal?

I picked up the ball and immediately realized that it felt off. The closed half, the half opposite the air holes, was heavier than normal. Something was inside. I casually lifted the ball, trying not to arouse suspicion from the ever-watchful guards as I peered through the air holes.

What I saw made my throat clutch. Kent’s words suddenly made sense, as did his plan. He was right. Doing things his way was a risk. A huge risk. There was no guarantee that his plan would work and even if it did there was a good possibility that we wouldn’t survive. The question was, was I willing to take the chance?

I needed to think. What was I willing to risk to expose SYLO, stop Granger, and get revenge for Quinn’s death? What I held in my hand might give me that chance.

Nestled in the closed side of the seemingly innocent Wiffle Ball, glued firmly in place, was a thick layer of sparkling crystals.

Ruby red crystals.

A
t five o’clock a horn sounded that was the call to dinner. I had no idea if it was actually five o’clock because I didn’t have my cell phone, but that’s what the soldier told me would happen. Everyone in the recreation yard stopped what they were doing and immediately started moving toward a gate that had swung open along the northernmost fence. Nobody said a word. They simply started walking as if it was a well-practiced routine. I didn’t know what else to do so I followed. Besides, I was hungry.

“My name’s Tucker,” I said to the guy in line next to me.

He must not have been a local because he wasn’t familiar. He gave me a quick glance then looked straight ahead without answering.

“Do you know why they’re keeping us here?” I asked.

“Mind your own business, kid,” the guy said, without looking at me.

“Why?” I asked, pressing. “Why won’t anybody talk to each other?”

“Because we want to stay alive,” was his sober response.

He pushed through the line to get further ahead—and away
from me. Just as well. His answer stunned me into silence anyway. I tried to make eye contact with a few other inmates but got the same response. They were scared. But why? They were prisoners. Why would talking to other prisoners get them into more trouble than they were already in? And why were they in trouble in the first place? It made me even more determined to escape, not just to save my skin, but to find out what was really going on.

We were funneled through open gates guarded by two SYLO sentries. I felt the weight of the Wiffle ball in my jacket pocket and hoped that the guards weren’t doing body searches. I had a moment of panic when I feared that Kent had set me up.

To my relief I walked past the guards without a problem. We filed through a narrow walkway with high fencing on both sides leading to a large tent that had the distinct smell of cooking food. It actually made my mouth water. I couldn’t remember when I had eaten last.

Once inside, the crowd split into two orderly lines that each led to a different serving station. I followed everyone’s lead and picked up a sectioned tray and a flimsy plastic spoon. I suppose there were no knives or forks because they could be used as weapons, though I’m not exactly sure how much damage you could do with a plastic fork.

We had no choice with the food. Everyone got the same thing as they slid their trays past the steam tables manned by workers with white smocks that had SYLO logos on the arms. If you didn’t like what they were serving, too bad. Kind of like the cafeteria at school. But the food was pretty good. There was sliced turkey with gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a slice of pumpkin pie.
It was your basic Thanksgiving dinner, though at that moment I couldn’t think of anything to be thankful for. There was only water to drink but that was okay. The portions were big and it all smelled delicious.

The whole setup was efficient and orderly. There was plenty of food and enough workers to keep it all running smoothly, which said to me that this operation hadn’t been put together in a hurry. Food had to be ordered and delivered. Workers had to be brought in. Uniforms had to be made. You don’t just slap something like this together overnight. It made me realize that whatever the truth was about SYLO being on the island, it had been planned and prepped for a good long time. When I left the line with my tray, I scanned the tent for a place to sit. There were long tables running the length of the space. Prisoners were filing in from different entrances so I got the chance to see some of my fellow inmates. I saw Kent but we didn’t acknowledge each other. If we were being watched, it would be better not to be seen together too often. The person I really wanted to see was Tori, so I pretended to look for a place to sit while walking slowly along the rows of tables, checking faces.

SYLO guards stood silently along the walls, watching our every move. My guess is that there were a few hundred prisoners. Nobody spoke, which wasn’t a surprise but it sure was eerie. The inmates all sat at their tables and ate without so much as looking up at anybody else or even asking for the salt.

I saw a few faces I recognized from around the island, but none that I had been friendly with. Most were strangers. I was about to give up on Tori when I spotted a USM cap. Yes!

I walked quickly to the end of the table and saw her there,
quietly eating. It was total relief. I didn’t want to say anything to her because I would have been the only person in the whole room speaking, so I walked past her and cleared my throat to get her attention.

I thought I was being subtle, but when a room is mostly silent, any noise is jarring. At least ten people looked up. Thankfully, one of them was Tori. When she saw me, I could see the relief in her eyes. She was just as worried about me as I was about her. I gave her a wink and continued on.

Seeing her gave me the resolve to make a decision. I was going to trust Kent. I was going to escape with him…and Tori was coming with us.

I sat between a lady wearing a bright pink warm-up suit and a guy who looked like any of the hundreds of lobstermen who worked off Pemberwick. It was a bizarre assortment of people in that they were a cross-section you would see on any day on the island, not the types you would expect to find under military arrest.

The one person I didn’t see was Tori’s dad. If he had been arrested, why wasn’t he there?

I followed everyone’s lead and ate silently. It didn’t take long. I suppose I should have taken my time and enjoyed it but I was starving. I was happy to see that people were going up for seconds and I wasn’t shy about joining them. I marched right back up and doubled up on the meal. Not only was I hungry but there was no telling when I might get the chance to eat again.

The mealtime lasted twenty minutes, which was plenty. It wasn’t like people were sitting around chatting afterward. When
they were finished, they dropped their utensils and sat silently, staring at nothing.

A horn sounded. Everyone diligently stood up and filed out, depositing their trays in a bin by the door. I took a quick glance back to see Tori doing the same thing on the far side.

We marched out the same way we had come in and were herded toward the recreation yard. I wondered what the rest of the schedule for the day was. Were we just going to hang out on the fairway until somebody told us to go to bed? I hadn’t even been shown where I was supposed to sleep. I entered the yard, prepared to do nothing, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I spun quickly to see it was a SYLO soldier.

“Come with me,” he ordered.

I figured I was about to see my prison cell and followed him without question. He led me back toward the row of huts and opened the door of one. I was about to step inside when I heard, “Hey! Tucker!”

It was strange to hear a friendly voice in the otherwise silent yard. I turned to see Kent jogging up. Oddly, he was all smiling and bright as if he were having a great time.

“My turn,” he said. “Let’s have the ball.”

My brain locked. Why was he asking for the ball with the Ruby? The SYLO guard was standing right there. Was Kent throwing me under the bus?

“C’mon, man,” he cajoled. “I’m bored out of my mind.”

Not sure of what else to do, I reached into the pocket of my hoodie, took out the crystal-filled ball, and tossed it to him.

“Thanks!” he said. “We’ll have a catch later.”

He turned and jogged off, tossing the ball into the air and catching it like it was the most fun thing in the world. I didn’t understand what had happened and wasn’t going to get any answers standing there, so I continued into the hut. The soldier closed the door behind me and I was once again alone.

It wasn’t my new home. At least I hoped it wasn’t. It was empty except for a single chair in the middle of the room. There were three blank walls and one that was a floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall mirror. I stood there for a second, unsure of what to do, when the mirror turned to clear glass as a light came on behind it. It was a two-way mirror and standing on the other side was Captain Granger.

“Sit down, please,” he ordered dryly.