Outbreak (18 page)

“Don’t worry about Constance,” I say. “Those code monkeys can’t get past the booby traps I set for them. It’s safe to talk.”

Eli still looks uneasy, but he meets my gaze again and starts talking. “Harper told you about my brother Owen, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I had a talk with Jayden the other day, and she told me I have to assassinate him . . . or one of the other gang leaders who are rallying the drifters.”

I blink, feeling a little sick for reasons that have nothing to do with my hangover. “Rallying drifters? Where?”

“Just a few miles from the compound.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. And Jayden has gone completely off the rails. She told me that if I don’t come back with a dead drifter, she’s going to kill Harper.”

By his matter-of-fact tone, I can tell he’s given this so much thought that the threat has lost its sting. But this is new information to me, and it feels as though someone just punched me in the stomach.

“So take them out,” I snap. That probably came out harsher than I intended, but I don’t care. Apart from Owen, Eli doesn’t know these guys from Adam. And if assassinating one will keep Harper safe, I’m all for it.

“That’s the thing. Owen is MIA right now, but as soon as he shows his face, Jayden and the drifters are going to be looking for him.” Eli takes a step forward so he’s towering over me in an intimidating/hot sort of way. “I need to be the one who finds him.”

Now I’m annoyed. It’s bad enough that Eli recruited Harper for Recon, but now it seems as though he just drags her into one dangerous situation after another.

“Look, Eli, I’m not trying to be a dick here, but if Jayden wants Owen dead, I’m not sure you’re gonna be able to stop her.”

I kind of expect him to react by punching me in the face, but Eli just nods. “Exactly. Jayden wants Owen out of the picture, and Jayden hates it when she doesn’t get what she wants.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “That’s why I’m going to fake his death.”

For a second, I just stare at him. He can’t be serious. Faking a drifter’s death sounds like the dumbest fucking plan in the universe. Eli might be the best lieutenant in Recon, but he’s no match for Constance.

“How?” 

“This is what I need your help with.”

Oh, joy.
 

“Constance has surveillance cameras planted all around the towns closest to the compound. I need to know where their blind spots are.”

“And you want my help hacking into their feeds.”

“You got it. I need to know where to tell Jayden I killed Owen and the areas he’ll have to avoid once it’s done.”

“What does Harper think about this plan?” I ask. I’d bet money she thinks it’s dumb as hell, too.

Eli looks suddenly guilty. “She doesn’t know.”

That doesn’t sit well with me, but I choose to ignore it for the moment. “And you think Owen is gonna go along with faking his own death?”

Eli sighs and drags a hand through his hair, rubbing his scalp and grimacing in a way that tells me he isn’t completely sure. “I don’t know. I hope so. If he won’t, I’ll have to find another drifter to kill for real.”

“What if you can’t?” I splutter. Eli really hasn’t thought this thing through.

“I don’t have a choice.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m not coming back until I have a dead drifter for Jayden.”

I stare at him, mouth agape. “
That’s
your big plan?” I choke. “Just stay out there forever? Harper’s never going to agree to that! She
hates
the Fringe.”

“I know,” says Eli, his voice deadly calm. “That’s why Harper isn’t going.”

“Does she know that?”

“No.” He lets out a long sigh. “I just put in a request for a new partner, but I need your help making sure it goes through.”

“I’m not doing that!”

For the first time since he got here, Eli looks as though he’s gearing up for a serious confrontation. He draws himself up to his full height and fixes me with a pointed stare. 

“Listen. I chose to make Harper my partner, and she’s the best one I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t trade her for anyone if it weren’t the best thing for her.

“You haven’t seen the look she gets on her face every time we have to go out on the Fringe. I’m not going to drag her along for a mission that has no end date. I won’t do it.”

My first instinct is to smack Eli upside the head, but his words give me pause.

I imagine Harper stuck out in the desert, spending the rest of her life dodging bullets and struggling to survive. The thought makes my heart ache. It’s not what I’d choose for her either.

“She’s gonna be pissed when she finds out,” I say finally.

“But you aren’t going to tell her, are you?”

I stand there silently for a minute, conflict raging in my chest.

Harper is my best friend. She’s going to be heartbroken when she finds out that Eli dumped her for a new partner — regardless of his reasoning — and she’ll be furious with me for hiding it from her.

But then I look at Eli standing there all worried and determined, and I feel my resolve start to crack.

Eli might be moody and sullen, but there’s no doubt in my mind that he cares for Harper. He’d do anything to keep her safe, which includes opting her out of a never-ending mission on the Fringe.

Against my better judgment, I find myself shaking my head. “I won’t tell her. And I’ll make sure you have a new partner in the system. But don’t expect me to help you when she finds out.”

* * *

I get a perverse thrill from using Systems’ resources to do something illegal. I don’t know if it’s because Systems rejected Harper for totally bogus reasons or because they’re my employer — which technically makes them “the man” — but I really,
really
enjoy using their equipment for illegal purposes.

I could
have hacked into Constance’s feeds from my own computer, but it would have been much more difficult to cover my tracks than getting to the feeds from Systems. 

Because a penetration tester’s work involves hacking into sensitive databases and testing our network security, I have my own private glass cube with auto-frosting walls along the back wall of HQ.

From there, I can see everything going on in the bull pen. Usually the workstations are alive with the clack of keys and the creak of swivel chairs, but tonight the only sounds are the quiet tick of all the servers blinking in the darkness and the gentle purr of the air conditioning.

“I’m in,” I murmur, my voice dying quickly in the silent room.

“Oh, good,” says Eli, trying to look alive. He’s been watching me from his slumped position against the wall for the past hour, and I know he must be bored to tears.

I pull up the feeds on my little semicircle of monitors, and Eli’s eyes widen in amazement.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

I try to sound casual, but I find myself sitting up a little straighter at his tone of awe. It’s nice to have your skills admired — even if the person doing the admiring doesn’t know shit. 

Eli comes up behind me and peers over my shoulder. “Damn.”

I don’t say anything. I’m too busy staring at what looks like a town from our history textbooks. 

The place is completely desolate. There are roads and buildings and street signs but no people in sight. Everything is covered in a thick layer of dust, and the scraggly desert foliage seems to be overtaking the streets and parking lots.

I have no memory of living outside the compound, and I’m completely blown away. I knew what was out there, of course, but it’s different
seeing
it. It’s as though I just stumbled into a video game and discovered that everything happening in the game was real.

“There,” says Eli, pointing at one view of an abandoned street. The curb and sidewalk are lined with trash, and the run-down buildings look as though they haven’t had any visitors in a hundred years. Most of the windows are broken or boarded up.

Eli points at the image of a yellow building on the monitor. Its faded sign reads “Master Pawn,” and the place seems to be the sort that was a little sketchy even before Death Storm.

“What’s that?”

He lets out a long breath through his nostrils, studying the building in frustration. “That’s the gang’s new headquarters.”

“No, I mean, what’s a Master Pawn?”

“It’s a pawn shop,” says Eli. “People bring in their old stuff, and someone pays them for it. Then the owner turns around and sells it to someone else for a lot more.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

I glance over at Eli, filled with a new sense of respect. He really has been
out there
, but up until now, I’d never really considered what that meant.

“If Malcolm comes back, this is where he’s going to be,” he mutters, more to himself than to me.

In the harsh blue glow of the monitor, I can read Eli’s frustrated expression. He looks as if he wants to reach through the screen or somehow teleport to the Fringe, though I can’t even imagine how terrifying it would be to encounter drifters in person.

Something about venturing outside the compound scares the shit out of me. It’s irrational, considering I was
born
out there, but it just seems so vast and so dangerous.

“Where would Owen be?” I ask.

“No idea. I don’t know if he’d meet up with the gang or not. He’s in trouble, thanks to me. But if he shows his face and doesn’t report to Malcolm, it’s going to get even worse.” He sucks in a burst of air through his teeth and glances down at me. “If you see him, let me know right away.”

“Will do. And I’ll try to compare the camera positions to the maps in Constance’s confidential files to find a blind spot.”

“Thanks.”

Eli crosses awkwardly to the door, but before he leaves, I say, “And I took care of the other thing.”

“Oh, yeah?”

I nod, hating myself for it. “Harper is no longer your default partner for deployment. It’s this kid . . . Derek Something. He’s a private. Middle-of-the-road scores on everything. I doubt he’ll be missed.”

Eli doesn’t turn around, but I see him clench and unclench his fists a few times. “Thanks.”

Watching him go, I get the overwhelming sense that I made the wrong decision. 

No good can come from Eli heading out to the Fringe to fake his brother’s death. In all likelihood, he’s going to get himself killed by the drifters or get caught in a lie and be killed by Constance. 

I hate being part of a plan that’s destined to fail. But more than anything, I hate that I helped Eli lie to Harper.

sixteen

Harper

Getting ready for a night in Neverland always gives me a nervous thrill. There’s an element of danger that comes with venturing into the underworld, but there’s also something freeing about being down there. 

The drugs, the sex, the illegal fights — Neverland lends a sense of anonymity you can’t find anywhere else in the compound. Sure, all the regulars down there know each other, but since everyone is up to no good, what happens in Neverland tends to stay there.

Tonight I’m wearing tight black pants and knee-length boots. I’ve squeezed my boobs into a sleeveless top that cuts low in the front, with straps that crisscross to form an X across my back. 

Anything less sexy would draw attention down there, but I still want to feel capable and in control — no skimpy dresses tonight.

My heart beats a little faster as I descend the emergency stairwell. When I reach the bottom, the stench of sweat and urine is overpowering, and I breathe through my mouth and try to calm down.

The heat of hundreds of gyrating bodies is emanating through the steel door, and I can already feel little beads of sweat springing up along my chest and face. I lift my hair off my neck for a second and focus on my breathing.

Everything’s fine,
I tell myself.
You can leave anytime you want. No one is going to hurt you.

In truth, I can’t be sure. I’ve only visited Shane once, and I was with Eli at the time. After that, Jayden paid Shane to have me killed. Eli would
freak
if he knew what I was doing, but I really don’t have a choice. 

I’m positive no good would come from Shane and Eli being in the same room together, and Shane is one of the few people I know who is old enough to remember the Fringe Program in its infancy.

Based on the illegal nature of Shane’s business ventures, there isn’t much that goes on around here that he doesn’t know about. He might be privy to some information the board has tried to cover up.

And anyway, it isn’t as though he’s going to try to kill me
here
— not with all these witnesses.

Pushing the door open, I’m instantly overwhelmed by the flashing lights and the heavy beat of music blaring from the speakers. 

Even though it’s Sunday night, there seem to be more bodies jammed together down here than usual. I have to turn sideways to squeeze through the ring of people crowded around the door, and I still feel their bodies pressing in all around me.

If it was hot in the stairwell, it’s sweltering in here. There are just too many people packed together in the collapsed tunnel and not enough ventilation.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hits me — my body’s automatic response to crowds. My lungs constrict, and I clench and unclench my fists to fight the panic rising up in my chest.

I can’t afford to lose it — not here. Not tonight. 

Everything’s fine,
I tell myself.
You can breathe. It’s all in your head.

Feeling slightly better, I start pushing through the mass of sticky, sweaty dancers and make a beeline for the stairwell. I jut out my elbows to peel apart the cluster of people grinding against each other and get several dirty looks directed my way. The women are wearing microskirts, plunging leotards, and what look like suspenders attached to neon underwear, but the men are mostly shirtless or wearing mesh tank tops.

It’s a relief when I break through the crowd and reach the stairs. But just as my feet hit the bottom step, a hand closes around my arm.