Outcasts (4 page)

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Authors: Jill Williamson

BOOK: Outcasts
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Mason needed to find a cure.

“That’s regrettable,” Levi said. “But remember, we’ve already voted that we’re not going after Mia and her mother. It’s too risky to try to rescue those who will likely refuse to come. So this is no surprise. They made their choice.”

“Thank you for telling us, though,” Aunt Chipeta said to Mason.

Indeed. Better to find out from him than from Luella Flynn on the Safe Lands ColorCast. A sob from Mary spurred Mason to change the subject. “How am I to communicate with you without the radios?” Mason asked. Omar had destroyed that communication line before his change of heart. “Are we strictly sending paper messages now?”

“I’m getting you an untraceable Wyndo,” Zane said. “I’ll have it soon. Levi, Jordan, and Omar already have them. You’ll be able to tap them on that. Just know that everything deletes after it’s sent or read. That way, if you lose it or someone tries to take a look, everyone is safe.”

“What did you find out about the kids?” Levi asked.

Mason took a deep breath. “The nursery is on the sixth floor of the Medical Center. I haven’t been able to get over there yet. The older kids are in the boarding school. I’ve studied the school from the outside, but it’s as much of a fortress as the Safe Lands itself. Penelope’s class seems to walk to the park every Tuesday. I’m going to attempt to make contact with her next time.”

“Tell her I love her,” Aunt Chipeta — Penelope’s mother — said.

“What’s taking you so long?” Jordan asked. “It’s been a month since we got the women out of the harem. You should have talked to Penny by now.”

“I’m being cautious,” Mason said. “My concern is that one of the teachers will see us speaking and perhaps not allow her to leave the school anymore.”

“Still, you could have tried,” Jordan said.

“With tasking in the SC and the trial, I haven’t had time,” Mason said. “And even though they acquitted me, I’m afraid I’m being watched.”

“Of course you’re being watched,” Jordan said. “Figure out who it is and ditch them.”

“It’s not as easy as someone following me everywhere,” Mason said. “I’m not even sure what to look for. I mean, I found a MiniComm in my apartment.”

“What’s a MiniComm?” Jemma asked.

“Exactly,” Mason said. “I’ve since learned that it’s some sort of recording device.”

“They transmit,” Zane said. “I’ll come sweep your apartment.”

“Thank you,” Mason said, thankful that Zane was their friend. “But don’t disturb anything you find. I don’t want them to know I
know they’re listening. If something disappears, I’ll look suspicious. Like I have something to hide.”

“You do,” Jordan said.

“No, he’s right,” Zane said. “Leaving things be will keep them off his back.”

“Another thing,” Mason said. “When I first spoke to the task director general, he mentioned that I could task in Research. I might ask him for a reassignment.”

“Why?” Jemma asked. “You’re in a good place in the Surrogacy Center.”

Mason looked at his hands clasped together between his knees. “Ciddah put the MiniComm in my apartment.”

“You’re sure?” Jemma asked. “Why would your boss do that?”

“And what was she doing in your apartment?” Jordan asked.

Mason didn’t want to lift that boulder, so he kept talking. “I think she’s assisting Lawten — the task director general. So I can’t imagine I’ll be able to learn much under her … observation.”

“But you need to be at the Surrogacy Center for Mia and Jennifer,” Aunt Chipeta said.

“It’s too late to help Mia and Jennifer,” Mason said. “But if I left the SC and tasked in Research, I’d have better access to learning about the disease. A better chance at finding a cure.”

“Hang finding a cure, Mason,” Levi said. “A cure is not our goal. Stop wasting your time and get to the kids.”

“The Tasker G is not going to let you learn anything, anyway, you know,” Omar said from the back of the theater. “All the man does is lie.”

“And if you go to a new task, you’ll have to start over,” Jemma said, her soft voice a soothing change from Levi and Omar’s criticism. “You need Ciddah.”

He
wanted
to spend time with Ciddah, but he didn’t need anyone. Mason had always been fine on his own. “I don’t trust her.”

“Mason,” Jemma said, “you can’t trust the task director general either.”

Point taken. “I simply think it would be good to put distance between myself and Ciddah.” Why couldn’t he be stronger? Tell Levi no. Or be strong enough to smash his feelings for that infernal woman.

“It doesn’t matter if you trust her,” Levi said. “You can’t trust anyone in the Safe Lands. Stop thinking of her as a person. She’s the enemy, Mase. Use her to get what you need so we can all get out of here.”

Use her. Mason had already abused his relationship with Ciddah a great deal, and he didn’t like the heaviness his actions had brought to his heart. Ciddah had abused their relationship too, planting that MiniComm. But somehow Levi’s suggestion seemed worse. More cutthroat. Sinister. Evil for evil.

Though why should Mason care? Ciddah had been toying with him from the start. None of her words could be trusted. Levi was right. Mason needed to forget his feelings for Ciddah and do his job, find out how to free the children so they could get their people out of the Safe Lands before any more became infected.

But he couldn’t give up his search for a cure, either. Especially not now that both Omar and Mia were infected.

Yes, the children needed to come first. But Mason would continue his search for a cure, no matter what Levi said. There was simply too much at stake.

CHAPTER
2

Y
ou. Have a. SimTalk tap. From … Red.”

The electronic voice of Omar’s SimTalk implant roused him from his stim nap. The remnant from Glenrock was still here, so he hadn’t been nodding long. “Answer,” he said.

“Hey, trigger, where are you?” Red’s voice came tinny in his ear.

“Theater.”

“Be there in five. Wait for me?”

“Sure.” Omar sucked in a long breath on his personal vaporizer. He watched his brother Levi ascend the theater steps to where Omar had claimed a seat in the back. His PV was filled with a combination of meds, grass, and brown sugar — low doses of the stims to keep Levi from strangling him. Though that looked like it might be about to happen anyway.

Omar closed his eyes and held the vapor in his lungs, savoring the way the stims eased the ache in his soul.

Levi’s footsteps scuffed in the row in front of Omar. “How could you mess this up?”

Omar blew out a stream of vapor and opened his eyes. He still hadn’t gotten used to the way Levi’s nose looked. His brother hadn’t
gotten it fixed — on purpose, as a reminder to Omar of his betrayal. “Don’t yell at me.”

“You were late, weren’t you? You were late meeting Chord.”

Omar paused to think how to answer, hesitating enough that Levi kept talking.

“Why were you late, Omar?”

“Between Sim Slingers and the messenger office, I’m tasking two locations. Give me a break.” But he didn’t deserve one. Chord was dead. It should have been him.

“You told me you were done at Sim Slingers at five. You were supposed to meet Chord at eight. Was three hours not enough time for you to get from Sim Slingers to the messenger office? What is it … three blocks?”

Levi’s interrogations only made Omar feel worse. “I went to dinner.”

“Where?”

“Does it matter?” What was done was done. The dead didn’t come back.

Levi’s expression actually softened a bit. “Look, Bender put me in charge of certain things. I don’t like it any more than you, but I’m in his debt right now. So where were you?”

“Just because you’re elder — ”


Where
, Omar?”

“At the Paradise, okay? Eating dinner — ”

“With Red.”

It wasn’t a question. Levi had been on Omar’s case for spending time with Bender’s errand girl — a crazy, wild, and physically friendly femme. Omar narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think I was with Red?”

Levi barked out his disgust. “Omar, I’m not stupid. I know she lives in the Paradise.”

“I’m not stupid, either.”
I’m not.

“Could have fooled me, brother. All you had to do was show up at eight at the messenger office and bring the messages back to Bender.
Simple. Now Chord is dead. The messages are missing, and Bender is all worked up over it.”

“See, I don’t get that,” Omar said. “They’ve never been
Bender’s
messages before. And if Bender wanted them, why not ask Chord for them himself?”

“Zane thinks Chord was murdered because he discovered something important. My guess is that Bender knew Chord had information to bring him and wanted your help throwing Otley off track. But Otley’s men got to Chord before he delivered his messages. So thanks to you, we’ll never know what they said.”

Great. Just what Omar needed: more guilt. “I didn’t kill him, Levi.”

“No, but you’re so consumed with this place, with that … vapo stick, that you can’t even think straight.”

“Do you hear me sniffing, brother? No, because I’m vaping my allergy meds. And the ACT treatment.” And a little added sweetness to take the edge off Levi’s lectures.

Levi paled a bit at Omar’s mention of the ACT treatment.
Elder Levi
hated that Omar was infected with the thin plague. So Omar did his best to bring it up as often as he could.

“I wish you’d get your act together,” Levi said.

That was all the lecture Omar could take for today. “No one respects me. I’m sick of it.” At sixteen, Omar was too young to rally older men to the rebels’ cause, and those who knew him knew he’d betrayed their village to Safe Lands enforcers. And even after he’d helped Levi, Jemma, and Zane escape the prison and apologized to everyone, people still treated him badly.

“It’s going to take time, Omar. It hasn’t even been two months since Glenrock was destroyed.”

“But working two jobs isn’t fair. And now I’ve got to worry about Otley’s men watching me too.”

“Contrary to what these flakers in the Safe Lands believe, life is not fair, Omar. Sometimes you get dealt a bad hand. Sometimes you earn it. But you can deal with it or drown. I’m not going to coddle you. I need you to do your share.”

“I’m fine doing my share. But why should I do more than everyone else?”

“You have a lot to make up for. You want people to respect you? Show them you’ve changed. Stop whining. Stop sucking on those poison sticks. Start acting like you want out of here someday.”

Did Omar want out of here? “I don’t know what I want.”

“Figure it out, Omar. Or it’s going to be more of the same. And stop hanging around with those flakers. Red, especially.”

“They’re people, Levi. Like you and me.”

“They’re the enemy. Stop pretending they’re not.”

“I’m a flaker too. It won’t be long until my skin looks like theirs. So does that mean I’m the enemy?”

“This is about us and them. Catching their sickness doesn’t make you one of them. Don’t be stupid. And stop treating your body like a canvas.”

“Stop telling me what to do.”

“I’m elder, Omar. Telling you what to do is my job. And for now, I want you following that Kendall woman. Bender thinks she might have the messages.”

“You just said Bender thought Otley had the messages.”

“No, I said Otley got to Chord before he delivered the messages. But Otley didn’t get them. If he had, Bender said this place and our bunker would be compromised and they would’ve already raided us. Either Chord hid them or he gave them to someone. Bender thinks it’s Kendall Collin. Find out.” Levi walked away, not giving Omar a chance to argue.

Not that he wanted to.

Now, Kendall Collin, the girl with the sweet face and the silky brown hair … that wasn’t a bad assignment. Omar would very much like to get to know her better. He sucked in another hit from his vaporizer, closed his eyes, and enjoyed the thrill, letting the fog seep from his lips. He could never tell how much time passed when he vaped the hard stuff. He nodded off again, thinking of Kendall Collin.

“Hey, trigger.”

Omar opened his eyes. Red stood before him, looking glossy in a short silver dress with black boots that went up over her knees. She sometimes mimicked the clothing, but never messed with her hair, which was vermillion red, not carrot orange like Belbeline’s had been.

Walls, he missed Bel.

Omar looked past Red to the bottom of the theater. Levi, Jordan, and Zane were still there, standing in a huddle by the entrance, but everyone else had gone.

“I thought you were sleeping,” Red said.

“Not sleeping.” He held up his PV.

“Ooh, gimme.” She snatched his PV and took a long drag.

Red reminded him of a warrior. There was a hardness to her. An inner metal. He’d met her three weeks ago when he’d started up with Bender and the rebels. Omar and Red were both angry deep down, their souls ravaged by this city. They seemed to understand each other’s pain.

She sat on his lap crosswise and put her arms around his neck. She smelled nice, softer than the spicy smells Belbeline wore.

“Want to go dancing tonight?” she asked him.

“Can’t.”

She ran her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. “Why not?”

“Levi’s mad at me for missing my meeting with Chord.”

“Yeah, that’s a bummer about Chord. He was a valentine.”

Her words pricked Omar’s nerves. He hated how Safe Landers shared each other. He wanted a girl who wanted him and no one else. He wanted what Jordan and Naomi had. What Levi and Jemma had.

But Red thought like Belbeline. The word
commitment
didn’t exist in their vocabulary. They just wanted to play.

Red seemed to sense she’d upset him, because she fisted the front of his shirt and tugged. “Hey, he’s not as valentine as you, though.”

“Really.” He didn’t believe her. Not even a little. But he liked her aggressive ways.

She set her forehead against his and stared into his eyes. “You have gorgeous eyes.”

When she set her mind to it, Red had a way of saying just the right thing.
Her
eyes were pink today. It was weird, how she changed her eye color each day like Omar changed his shirt. She kissed him then. She was a good kisser. Almost as good as Belbeline.

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