Altruist (The Altruist Series Book 1) (26 page)

“Hail President Cain!” he shouts and we reply with the same, heading as quickly as possible to the tunnel entrance.

Chapter 28

The tunnels mimic those in Ward 1 that we left an hour ago, except the toxic smell is impossible to escape down here. We walk. Silent, scared, we walk. I help Max as much as I can while pushing him to keep going. Our feet smack against slimy concrete littered with puddles. I managed to make it 16 years without ever needing to pass through the city’s sewers and within the past two days I have become an expert on subterranean engineering.

Crackle, crackle
. Suddenly my earpiece comes to life. “How ya doing, little dove?” Reuben’s reassuring voice startles me in the quiet abyss that surrounds us.

“Fine, all things considered,” I say, fully aware that everyone in the group can hear my conversation.

“Yeah, you’re moving at a good pace. Look, we’ll be heading into radio silence once you hit the perimeter but before that happens I want you to take out the tablet I put in Ben’s bag. Connect to the broadcasting app, there’s something you need to see.”

I run up to Ben, who’s leading the group. He turns around quickly and I realize that I’ve unintentionally managed to startle him and everyone else in the group. “What’s wrong?” he asks. His words are sharp and on edge.

“Sorry, nothing,” I say. “Nothing,” I repeat louder to the rest of the group. Turning back towards Ben, I explain, “Reuben asked me to grab the tablet from your pack.”

Ben slides the pack from his back and pulls the matte black tablet out, handing it over to me. “What are you doing?” he asks and motions for everyone to stop as I initialize the application. I tap feverishly on the glass screen—patience is not something I was blessed with. As if the tablet recognizes that my day has been rather stressful and doesn’t wish to keep me waiting, the screen instantly illuminates and President Cain’s face lights up the small dingy tunnel. His pale blue eyes sink into his nearly transparent sagging skin.

“Miss Quill and her companions are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous. The Council requests your help in locating them and bringing Miss Quill to justice for the murder of a fellow classmate late last night.” A picture of Dante appears on the screen. His perfectly combed hair and charismatic grin concealing the pretentious monster I know him to be. “It is believed that Miss Quill broke into the young man’s house after stalking him for several weeks. An altercation broke out resulting in the death of the talented young man. There is a reward of 10 million notes for the capture of Miss Quill and a reward of 1 million notes for any of her traveling companions. Please do not engage the fugitives but rather contact local authorities with any information you may have. This young, disturbed woman has harmed one of our citizens, one of you. And the Council takes the safety of our people to the highest of concerns. Quill is now an enemy of our state and will be treated as such. Anyone caught aiding her will be immediately sentenced to life in a labor camp.” President Cain stares directly into the camera. “Miss Quill, if you are hearing this, please turn yourself in and stop hurting those around you.” He pauses. “God bless New Utah and God Bless you all.”

The screen goes black except for white letters reading:
End of Transmission
. Abel wraps his arm around me. “We were prepared for this, and we’ve never had plans of returning. This doesn’t change anything. We always knew that he was Aliah's pawn,” he says.

I close my eyes and concentrate on my breath. I’m an enemy of the state, the words turn and claw at my soul.
How did I get here? How did it get so bad so fast?
Apparently, those around me, the Tylins that have taken me in, my people, planned on never returning but the idea of never coming back had never crossed my mind. This is my home. This has always been my home and now a man whom I’ve never met has made it so that I can never return. Aliah. His name circles my thoughts and I try to piece together what he may look like, desperately trying to put a face to the person who has up to this point dictated my life and continues to poison the minds of people who without his influence may be completely different than they are today. Without Aliah, this world may actually have a chance and it is with that thought that I realize that either he or I will perish, that we can’t hope to live symbiotically and that any idea of compromise is out of the question. I push the speech out of my mind and Abel’s hand clasps mine in the darkness, bringing me back to reality. I begin walking again.

A pinpoint of light breaches the darkness of the tunnel and I know we are nearing no man’s land. “What happens once we’re out of the city?” I ask Eliath—Eliath who has been quiet for the vast majority of our time on the lam. I’m sure that there is unsettled business between the two of us. I can imagine that he is just waiting until we’re safe to tear into me and spit out some lecture about the harms of being impulsive. Actually, if I have learned anything about this man, it is that he is patient and that he has probably been mentally concocting said lecture for the past 15 hours.

“We’re heading for a safe house in the exiled area, it’s far enough into the beyond that we should be okay resting up and regrouping there for a night. From there we’ll hop a private train that runs the length of the continent.”

“A private train?” I ask. I wasn’t aware that trains were still a utilized technology, and I sure as hell was not aware of anyone who could afford to run a private train that runs the length of the continent.

Eliath doesn’t engage with my perplexed behavior, and instead completely ignores the question and continues. “After which, we’ll take a boat of sorts to Elaysia.”

If he thinks that I am the type of person to be kept in the dark, he is wrong. I push past him and hold steady in his path, narrowing my eyes at him in the dim tunnel. “Where are we going?” My question comes off more as a command than a question and he runs his tongue across his teeth underneath his lips. I know he is irritated but honestly, this is my life, and I don’t care if my questions are inconveniencing him or throwing off our time table.

“It’s where you’re from. We’re taking you home. We’ll be safe there. More importantly, you’ll be safe there. And we’ll be able to formulate what comes next.”

They’re taking me home? How has the thought of my birthplace never crossed my mind? I’m starting to think that I may be absolutely incapable of aligning my priorities correctly and am constantly being bombarded with surprises that really shouldn’t be surprising at all. Eliath’s jaw shifts and though I doubt any Plebs could notice in this light, I know Abel did and I know what it means: the simplest gesture directing me to literally and physically get in line.

I fall back behind him and continue walking down the damp tunnel, the proverbial light materializing and expanding beyond. As we approach the opening I take Max’s free arm and stop him too abruptly and a whine escapes his closed mouth. I look down at Max now kneeling on one knee. “Sorry,” I say. I’m failing miserably at this big sister thing and I wonder if he notices. I tighten the wraps on his arms and make sure the bones are firmly secured. “This is going to hurt like hell, but I need you to run as fast as you can, and no matter what, do not stop until I tell you to.” I tilt his chin up so that his eyes meet mine. “Do you understand?” I ask, and he nods.

As Ben begins to instruct the group on next steps, I walk over to Abel and take his hand in mine, letting them dangle together at our sides. “I don’t care what Reuben says, don’t let anything happen to Max,” I tell him.

“I won’t. I know you’d burn it all down if anything with him went sideways.” He releases my hand and nudges me forward.

Burn it all down.
He’s right, I would. And I smile considering the fact that he may know be better than I know myself.

“Okay, does anyone have any questions?” Ben asks.

“Yeah, who’s buying drinks after this?” Issachar chimes and the group takes a much needed collective laugh.

“That would be me.” Eliath smirks, arms crossed as he leans against the tunnel wall. His disposition is much more lax than I’ve encountered before. His shirt, which under normal circumstance would be freshly pressed and a brilliant white is now harshly wrinkled and dingy. His golden hair continually falls from in his face and he is constantly brushing the strands back struggling to keeps them near his ears. In a way, it’s strangely refreshing. He almost seems human.

The group disperses and goes through one more check of equipment, making certain they’re ready for the sprint. I kneel down and tie Max’s shoes. His laces are constantly coming undone and if he were to fall behind from something so silly, I’d hate myself forever. I tie them once and then I tie them again for no other reason than in times of stress I become increasingly anal-retentive and neurotic.

“Cate, may I have a moment?” Eliath’s voice is deep and booming in the close space and rattles my already raw nerves. I stand and rustle my fingers through Max’s hair, then walk back into the darkness of the concrete cylinder. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

Seriously? Is actually asking me this? The fact that I’ve bitten my nails to the point that the skin around them is red and bleeding should answer that question easily enough. “Honestly, I’m having trouble keeping air in my lungs and feel like I may either pass out or hyperventilate at any moment.” I laugh nervously and he smiles, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“You can do this, Cate. I know you may not remember, but you have been through far worse than what’s about to occur.” His attempt to put me at ease falls painfully short and my curiosity perks up.

“How do you know? How do you know that we’re going to make it through the next twenty minutes?”

His stare is unwavering. “I don’t,” he admits, shaking his head and clenching his jaw. “But I do have faith that whatever is about to transpire, whatever the next twenty minutes has in store for us, the outcome will be exactly what it is supposed to be. And that if things don’t go our way, it won’t be for lack of trying. I’m proud of you. I am so proud of you.” He smiles and before I can respond he walks back to the tunnel opening. I wish I were the type of person that took compliments well, that I could easily express gratitude and affection, but I’m not, so though I am grateful for his sentiment, I’m also grateful that he doesn’t wait for a response.

I lean against the wall for a moment and wish Sophie were here so that I could take a puff or 90 of her inhaler. I knock at a pebble with my boot, staring at it as it becomes buried in dusty dirt. And then like sometimes in life, my body takes over and I lean down and pick up the pebble and wipe the dirt off with my thumb. At first I think it’s black but when rays of sun hit the stone, deep red flecks shimmer. It’s then that the cage in my room etched with the words “remember your humanity” enters my mind. The world around me disappears as I realize that each pebble in the cage represents a life taken at my hand. So many lives, so much destruction. How can this go on much longer? It can’t. For now, I will be that girl, that girl who hurts and kills and does terrible things to protect the ones she loves. I will be this girl for them, I will be her, I will embrace it and I will give that to them. But it cannot last forever, because I cannot carry the burden of death on my own forever. At some point I will need to return to the girl I am suppose to be. The girl that loves more than she hates, the girl who laughs more than she cries. I will be her again. I stand and resume leaning against the metal tunnel.

This is for Dante
, I think as my hand makes its way into the cracked leather bag at my side and I drop the pebble as my fingertips touch the smooth bracelet I smile. I smile because the simple fact that such an object exists gives me so much joy.
Man, the world can be a wonderful place
. I pull out my charge, clasping the cold metal around my wrist. My eyes close as the intoxicating surge of power flows through my veins and I relish the moment, the feeling of pure strength. The same lungs that were struggling to gulp air through nerves just moments ago are now slow and steady. I am alive. My senses peak and even the slotted rays of morning light become ablaze and my pupils dilate.

I hear the rustling of rocks and dried dirt against the bottom of a boot scrape the earth over and over until the image of a young woman appears at the end of the tunnel. She is taller than me, though only slightly, and brown strands of hair fall across her face from a sloppily pulled back ponytail. Her grey v-neck t-shirt is tight around her torso and tucked into slim black cargo pants. A tattoo of a numerical sequence, 7 digits long, adorns her right forearm.  I don’t know who she is, but if it were a contest of strength between her and I, my money would be on her.