The Defiant (8 page)

“We're almost here,” the woman says. “Stop talking.”

But the man's words make me feel better. We have each suffered losses. That will bind us together against the violence and horror of the UNA.

The guard starts ambling over to the passenger side of our car. I try to look as calm and normal as possible.

“Hello, Officer,” Kelley says as she rolls down the window, her voice fake and pert. She sounds nothing like she did just a moment ago. “What's all this fuss about?”

“Pull over, put it in park, and step out of the vehicle,” the guard says brusquely to Shawn. He nods.

I know there's no point asking why, or we might just be beaten for the hell of it.

But Kelley laughs. “Oh, Officer. Really? Is there a need for that? We're just headed home.”

“Do as I say. Now.” He turns away from the car and waves another officer over to join him.

With a sigh, Shawn starts pulling the car over to the side of the road. “This really isn't necessary,” Kelley calls out to the officer through the open window.

“I'll decide what's necessary.”

The officer follows us over to the side of the road. The other officer joins him, ready to search our car. Shawn turns the engine off.

“Get out,” the officer says. “The three of you. You first, driver.”

Shawn opens his door and steps into the night. Kelley and I follow suit, moving slowly and cautiously.

Soon, we are standing there on the edge of the road. I can feel the weight of the knife in my waistband. If they try to strip-search me, then I will be forced to use it, because there's no way I can explain a weapon away. Then I realize that Kelley's gun must still be in the car. That's going to be a lot harder to explain than a knife.

Kelley puts a hand on my shoulder. Maybe it's a way to appear motherly. Or maybe she's trying to signal something to me. I can't tell.

“Papers,” the officer commands us.

We reach into our pockets and extract our government ID cards. Then we hand them over to him.

He scrutinizes them one by one with his flashlight. On the road, I see other cars going through the roadblock without any problems.

“Where are you headed?” he asks, without looking up at us.

“We're on our way home from New Lakeport,” Kelley says.

“From a camping trip,” Shawn adds. “Up near Lake Nedra.” His voice cracks nervously, but luckily the officer doesn't seem to notice. He keeps looking at our ID cards.

I remain completely silent. I'm worried that the officer will notice my wet hair, and think that it's suspicious, but maybe that's why Shawn said we were coming home from a camping trip at a lake.

I'm watching the officer. He's holding Kelley's and Shawn's ID cards in one hand, and mine in the other. He raises mine closer to his face, bringing it up to the light.

“Date of birth?” he asks me.

I tell him the fake birth date on the ID card, without hesi­tation.

He squints at me, turning the bright flashlight to my face. “You look old for sixteen.”

“Life will do that to you,” I snap, before I can stop myself.

Time seems to stand still for a moment.

I don't know why I said it. It just came out.

For a moment I see something pass across his eyes. I shouldn't have said anything. I wish I could take the words back, but it's too late. I'm overcome by sudden fear. I'm about to say something else to try to make it better. If this officer gets angry at me, or thinks I'm mouthing off to him, then our entire cover might get blown.

Then the officer nods. “Life does that to everyone, I guess,” he says, as he hands my card back to me.

“What's going on out here tonight?” Kelley asks, sounding perky and fake again. At first I'm worried because I don't want
her bringing more attention to us. But then I realize that she's trying to figure out how much the government knows.

The officer shrugs. He seems more at ease with us now. “Escaped convicts,” he says. “A couple guys broke out of the maximum-security prison in New Fort Worth. At least that's what they're telling us.”

Kelley nods.

“It's a good night to stay off the roads. They've got roadblocks set up from here all the way to New Austin.”

“I'll keep that in mind, Officer.”

He nods. “And remember, it's your duty as a citizen of the UNA to report any suspicious activities that you might observe.”

“Doing my part for the UNA is a real pleasure,” Kelley chirps happily. “So we can go now?”

“Yeah,” the officer says, lowering his flashlight. “Sure.”

We get back into the car.

I'm shaking a little bit. I can see the tip of Kelley's rifle poking out from under the seat. If they'd searched the car, they would have found it.

Shawn starts the car and begins driving again, slowly pulling back onto the road. I see beads of sweat running down his cheek, even though the night is cool.

“See? I told you it would be okay,” Kelley says. Her voice is no longer chipper. It's firm and as cold as steel.

“Barely,” Shawn mutters.

“Barely is good enough for me,” I tell him.

I gaze out the window. The road ahead is clear. We've passed the roadblock. I should feel relieved, but instead I feel more anxious than ever. The officer mentioned other roadblocks. We might not get so lucky next time.

“Faster,” Kelley says to Shawn.

He speeds up.

“How far are we now?” I ask Kelley, as the trees rush by at the side of the road. “I mean, from the safe house.”

“Twenty minutes. Unless we hit another checkpoint.”

“You think that's possible?”

“I hope not,” Shawn mutters. “But there's a chance.”

I sit back in my seat, gazing out the windows. “I'm ready for whatever happens.”

“I know you are,” Kelley says, glancing back at me. “You handled yourself well back there. But this is only the start of your journey. Don't be too cocky and overconfident. That can get a person killed.” She pauses. “Remember, this isn't Island Alpha. You can't go around fighting and killing people with impunity—at least not until the revolution starts. This is New Dallas. The rules are different here. And we must play by them, until we get the chance to rewrite them.”

“You think I don't know that?”

She turns back around. “Just checking. Remember, a lot is riding on bringing you and the other kids to the rebel cells. You're meant to be a catalyst to help us start the revolution. But if you get caught, then we've wasted a lot of time and energy, and you've jeopardized a lot of lives.”

“I'm not planning on getting caught.”

“Neither am I,” Shawn says.

“Nobody ever does, right?” Kelley asks. “Yet people get caught every day. Shawn, you acted too nervous back there. You were too quiet.”

There's a moment of silence.

“I'll do better,” he finally says.

Kelley nods. “Just keep driving. If everything goes well, we'll be there soon.”

I gaze out the windows at the cityscape now passing on either side of the road. I'm looking forward to arriving at the safe house. But more than that, I'm looking forward to meeting the rebel cells and starting the process of tearing the UNA to pieces.

T
WENTY MINUTES LATER
,
AFTER
driving down several winding roads, we reach the safe house. We were lucky and did not encounter any other roadblocks or military checkpoints along the way.

We are now in a suburban development of old, large tract homes. Built before the UNA took power. They are run-down and ramshackle. Some look abandoned, with caved-in roofs and broken-­down walls. But others look no worse than the tower blocks of New Providence, or even the orphanage where I grew up.

“That's it,” Kelley says, pointing to a huge house up ahead, with two massive dead oak trees in the front yard. “The safe house. It's empty right now. We're the only ones using it. There are twenty other safe houses spread around New Dallas in a radius of thirty miles.”

A couple of the safe house's windows are broken, and the shutters hang awkwardly off their frames. The house is black and imposing, as though its exterior was scorched by flames at some point.

“Thank god we made it,” Shawn says, finally exhaling in a big rush of air, like he's been holding his breath for a long time.

“Park over there. To the left,” Kelley instructs. Shawn does as she says, pulling up the driveway and shutting off the car. He flicks the headlights off.

I stare out the windows at the darkness. Inside the house, I can see faint light, as though candles are flickering somewhere in there. I feel a chill run over my body, and not just from my wet hair and the cool night air.

“Let's go,” Kelley says.

Then I catch a glimpse of movement inside the house.

I freeze.

“Stop!” I hiss. “I thought you said the house was empty?”

“I did,” Kelley replies, pausing. “Why?”

Sensing that something is wrong, my hand creeps back to my knife. “Someone is in there! I just saw their shadow. The house is definitely not empty.”

Kelley doesn't respond. Shawn doesn't either. The two of them exchange a glance. My fingers find the knife's grip, and slowly and silently, I begin to draw it out of its leather sheath.
Have I been led into a trap?

“Who's inside that house?” I ask, keeping my voice very calm and low.

“You'll understand when you get inside, Alenna,” Kelley says.

“You've been lying to me,” I say. “Why?” I pull the knife up higher, clasping my fingers around it. “Tell me what's going on right now. Before we get out of the car. How do I know this isn't an ambush?”

“It's not what you think,” Kelley says.

In the darkness of the back of the car, I begin raising the knife.
This is it.
I wonder if this is how we passed through the roadblock so easily. Maybe the policeman knew who we were the whole
time and let us through.
But why?
If it's a trap, why go to these lengths? Kelley could have shot me and Gadya at the side of the dirt road and left our bodies there in the forest. Or she could have shot me once I was inside their car.

“Just stay calm,” Kelley cautions, but I sense rising tension in her voice.

“I knew I never should have been separated from Gadya,” I tell her, my fingers tightening more on the knife handle. “That seemed suspicious at the time. But it didn't seem like there were any other options.”

“This doesn't involve Gadya,” Kelley says. “It involves you. Gadya isn't part of it.”

I wonder if Gadya is even still alive.
Have we been double-crossed?
I don't have time to think about any of that now. I just need to survive this moment or else there won't be any mission.

I whip out my knife.

At the same moment, Shawn pivots in his seat to face me.

He is holding a sawed-off shotgun. “Easy, Alenna,” he says. “If you stab me or Kelley with that knife, then I fire.”

I'm frozen.

“Why are you betraying me like this?” I ask. “Why are you betraying the rebels? I thought you were on our side!”

I'm not going to put my knife down yet, even if it means I get shot.

“We're not betraying anyone,” Kelley says. She turns around to stare at me. Even in the darkness of the car, I can see her eyes glinting with anger and frustration. “You don't understand yet. But you will soon.” She turns back to the imposing house. “Once you get inside.”

I look at the house, at those dark mysterious windows, and I
see the shadow moving again on the second floor, behind shabby, torn curtains. I swallow hard. There has to be a reason why these people aren't telling me who is inside there.

“Lower your knife,” Shawn says tiredly. Slowly, I do what he says. Then he swings his shotgun away from me. “We're on the same team, whether you know it or not.”

“Prove it to me,” I snap.

Kelley sighs. “We're wasting time.” She opens her door and steps out. “Stay in the car if you want, Alenna.” She shuts her door.

Shawn turns and opens his door. “It's safe, I promise you,” he says. Then he gets out of the car too.

I sit there for a moment, in the silent darkness. I don't know who is inside the house. And I don't know why Kelley and Shawn are being so strange about it. Obviously there's more going on here than I was led to believe. I miss Gadya and Liam right now. I hope that they're both okay. And I hope that Kelley and Shawn can be trusted.

I get out of the car, clutching my knife. If anything unexpected happens, then I'm ready to fight back. And Kelley and Shawn will be my first targets, for daring to betray everything that we've worked toward.

The two of them are waiting for me, just a few paces away.

“This way, Alenna,” Kelley says, walking up the stone steps to the front door of the house. I follow her cautiously, my senses on alert for any signs of danger.

She reaches the front door, takes out a set of keys, and unlocks it. The door creaks open on rusty hinges. She disappears into the darkness within, followed by Shawn.

I take a deep breath and step into the house after the two of them. I was right about the candles. They burn in large candelabras
and in lamps mounted on the walls. Wax drips onto the warped wooden floor and forms little pools.

Kelley sees me notice the candles. “We don't use electricity. We don't show up on any UNA power grid.”

I'm staring around at the shadows. I feel like someone is watching us. The sensation makes the tiny hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

“This house has been condemned,” Kelley continues. “By the government. Most of this neighborhood is.”

“Why?” I'm looking around, aware of every creak in the floorboards. There is some simple, functional wooden furniture in the corner and a couple of old dusty couches in the main room. Nothing else.