That’s when I see it.
A flickering glow in the distance. A fire.
My blood quickens as I turn off the flashlight and slide it into the pocket of my bag. I flinch when my fingers brush the handle of the laboratory knife and then close around it. My hand shakes as I pull it free. Never do I want to be forced to take another life, but I am not naïve. Whoever is by the fire may attack. If so, I will be ready.
Step by careful step, I move closer and crouch behind what must have once been some kind of vehicle. Tomas follows my movements and soundlessly joins me. Raffe arrives moments later. My heart pounds as I peer around the twisted metal and squint into the firelight.
People are lounging near the fire. Behind them is a one-story structure that looks to be mostly intact. I hear the murmur of voices, but I’m too far away to understand what they say. Part of me wonders why they are awake at this time of night. Then a memory flashes. Tomas and I huddle together on another night. Not beyond pieces of twisted metal, but in a small building with no roof. In my memory, Tomas tells me to get some sleep. He’ll wake me in a few hours so I can keep watch for other Testing candidates or animals that might mean us harm. These few must be the ones designated to safeguard their group’s sleep. That means there are more people nearby.
Someone laughs and shouts, “Hey, new guy. Bring us some water.”
“My name isn’t new guy.” The door to the structure opens. A man appears and walks toward the fire. “It’s Cris. If you guys are such hotshots, you should have figured that out by now.”
I hear Tomas suck in air as the firelight glints off a large silver gun strapped to the man’s side. But it isn’t the gun that makes Tomas catch his breath. It’s the sound of the voice, the sight of the blond hair, and the face that is familiar to us both.
The man taking a seat by the fire isn’t named Cris. It’s my oldest brother, Zeen.
Chapter 18
THERE IS MORE laughter. More conversation. Tomas’s hand finds mine, but I barely feel his touch as I close my eyes and then open them again. Zeen is still here. Wearing the gun at his side as easily as he wears his smile. My heart soars at the sight of him, even as confusion swirls through me. After so l
ong without a glimpse of my family, to see Zeen’s grin and hear his laugh is like a balm for my soul. I want to race to where he sits, fling my arms around him, and bury my head in his shoulder the way I did when I was little.
But I don’t. Because Zeen is using a different name, which tells me he doesn’t trust these people, whoever they are. No matter how much I want to, I cannot go to him. Not without more information.
I glance at the watch on my bag. The time I set aside for this expedition has elapsed. To return to the residence without discovery, we have to leave now. We need to be in our beds when Damone is found missing. Otherwise, questions will be asked. Questions we do not want to answer. Only, I can’t leave without knowing what Zeen is doing here—I have to stay. Raffe and Tomas don’t, though. I will not risk their futures at the University or their lives just because I’m risking my own.
Leaning toward them, I whisper, “It’s getting late. If you go back to the University now, you’ll make it before dawn. There’s something I have to do first.”
Tomas shakes his head. “I’m not leaving you here.”
“I’m staying if he does,” Raffe whispers.
“This has nothing to do with you.” Tomas’s voice is quiet but firm. “Besides, Cia and I can move faster and more quietly if you’re not with us. The last thing we need is for your heavy footsteps to get us all shot.”
When Raffe looks to me, I nod. “Tomas is right. Head back to the fence. Look for the marker. I promise we’ll be right behind you.”
“You’d better,” he whispers. I watch him retreat into the darkness. Leaves rustle. A branch snaps. Then quiet. I feel a stab of guilt knowing Raffe has to navigate his way back on his own, but I am glad Tomas is with me. He cares about Zeen too.
Tomas and I circle to our left, careful to stay low. My blood races as one woman picks up a shotgun and rests it on her lap, but she doesn’t turn in our direction. When we get closer, I tell Tomas to stay where he is. I am smaller and faster and will be safer on my own. Tomas looks unhappy, but he nods understanding. I dart behind a partially collapsed wall twenty feet away from where my brother sits, and listen.
The conversation drifts from subject to subject. The way game is being stolen from snares. The new housing they’ve been promised will be finished soon. Someone snores. A woman says she’s glad their shift is almost over. One of the men snorts and says she’s just happy to be sliding into bed with her new husband. There is laughter. A few jokes. The minutes pass. My heart jumps when I hear Zeen ask about some kind of schedule. Someone says it will be decided in the next couple of days. The conversation shifts to breakfast and whether they can convince the cooks to make pancakes. I hear Zeen say he’ll mention it to them. He’s going inside to work on boosting the radio signal. There’s some good-natured teasing about him doing extra work to please Symon as all but one of the sentries follow Zeen into the building in search of food. Other than the one dozing by the fire, everything is quiet. But I’ve got the information I sought.
This is Symon’s rebel camp.
That fact alone should make me feel safe. But if Zeen thinks it’s important to keep his identity a secret, there’s a good reason. Until I know what that reason is or why Zeen has come here in the first place, I cannot hope to be reunited with my brother. Luckily for me, there is one person I am certain knows the answer to both of those questions.
I move quickly back to Tomas. Together, we hurry past the twisted vehicle and toward the warped trees I remember passing. When we are far enough away from the rebel campsite for it to be safe, I pull out my penlight. Our feet fly across the ground as the sky lightens. As we run, Tomas uses the Transit Communicator to guide our way.
Dawn is breaking as we reach the chain-link fence. Tomas spots the marker to our left, and we race toward it. I grab the shirt as I climb up and over and hit the ground running on the other side.
“Are you okay?” Tomas asks. “What is Zeen doing here with the rebels?”
“I don’t know,” I say as I reach for my bike. “But, I—” I stop cold as I realize all three bikes are still hidden in the bushes.
“What’s wrong?”
I turn and scan the fence, looking for movement behind the chain link, and answer, “Raffe never made it back.”