The Retreat (The After Trilogy Book 1) (25 page)

“You’ve had three weeks already,” Deimos accused. “And we’re no further from the Mandate than we were at the start.”

Romy pinched the hand she still held in warning, swallowing nervously as she tore away from Lucas’s gaze. They shouldn’t be talking about this here.

What had her expression been like as she watched the woman’s trial? Or more importantly, had Officer Cayne glimpsed the tense exchange between Atlas and Deimos? Her mind was in chaos. She couldn’t think clearly.

The Earth humans were breaking off and heading into the Hull. Lucas slung his arm over another soldier and sauntered away to get food, but Romy stayed close to Deimos, scared about what she’d seen in Lucas’s eyes.

Atlas glanced around them before leaning close. “You still think I’m not on your side?”

Romy twisted and found him staring straight at her. His question caught her off-guard. “I-I’m—”

Hurt lit the grey eyes before her and his head reared back.

Deimos scoffed. “Can you blame her?”

Atlas’s jaw clenched and unclenched several times. “After everything I’ve done,
am
doing for you. You can’t trust me.”

A lump rose in Romy’s throat, but she couldn’t give him an empty reassurance, despite the fact he so clearly believed she should trust him. “Maybe I would know whether I should trust you if I knew what you were doing. Telling someone they should trust you . . . with no actions to support it. . . .”

His eyes blazed. “Saving you, showing you to your friends . . . those weren’t actions?”

They glared at each other, noses almost touching as they argued in whispers. Romy’s chest heaved. Anger swelled within her and she ignored Deimos, who was darting looks between them. “Lying to me from the moment we met, you mean.”

Atlas blanched and he stepped back. He looked between her and Deimos; both of them had their arms closed. With a weary sigh, Atlas ran a hand through his hair, casting a worried glance towards the Hull. “And that is what you think of me?” he asked.

Romy’s eyes burned with unshed tears. “I don’t know what to think.”

He stared down at her, eyes flickering over her face as his expression slowly hardened. Without another word, Atlas strode away.

* * *

“T
hat doesn’t sound good.” Phobos shook his head as Deimos and Romy finished relating what had happened in the clearing. Elara, Thrym, and Deimos had watched the trial from the other side.

Romy was storing more of the seeds Phobos had “borrowed” in her pillowcase. Doing so after watching the trial made her nervous.

“I don’t like it,” muttered Thrym. “Like Atlas said, it’s too coincidental. The Mandate just chose to screen that trial weeks after we landed here? There’s something else happening.”

Phobos paced in the bungalow’s small space. “Dei is out of hospital. We have the means to grow food, we have a car, Elara knows where the sentry posts are and how to drive, and Romy knows when the patrols pass and the route to get out of here. Thrym’s watched Houston treat people. I’m confident we can find shelter. I feel like we’re out of our depth here now.”

Deimos stood beside his twin. “It’s become too dangerous. We’re trusting an entire camp to remain quiet. Do you know how stupid that is?”

That was what puzzled Romy. How wouldn’t the Mandate find out about Knot 27? A crashed battler couldn’t be an easy thing to miss.

“Tina, Atlas, and Houston are the only ones with transmitters,” Elara objected. “Unless they tell, the Mandate won’t find out.”

Romy didn’t know that. She’d seen the blue devices in Atlas and Houston’s ears, but assumed many would have the transmitters.

Phobos folded his arms, shaking his head. “How do we know there aren’t more?”

“Tina said so,” Elara withered back.

If Lucas worked for the Mandate, surely he’d have some means of contacting them. But if he had a device, why hadn’t the Mandate turned up to cart the knot off already? Her head ached from trying to puzzle it out.

“Tina, Atlas, and Houston,” Thrym said, lifting his head. “They’re tense. I’ve heard them arguing a lot lately. They seem . . . on edge.”

“You think it’s to do with us?” Romy asked, mouth dry.

He shrugged. “I’ve heard our names, but that’s as much as I got. Actually,” he stared at Romy, “they mention
your
name . . . like, a lot.”

She blanched. “Me? Why?”

“I figured maybe it was about you and Atlas,” he said, looking away. “But then I heard them mention the rest of us.”

Elara circled to Romy’s side. “You think it’s bad?”

He shook his head. “I have absolutely no idea. It could be nothing. A bad feeling I’m giving too much attention to.” Thrym flitted a look towards Romy.

Phobos clapped Thrym on the shoulder. “It’s not just you. I feel it, too. I know you all think I’m just a pretty face.”

Elara snorted.

He ignored her. “Romy . . . I think Thrym’s right. Houston barely stops watching you to eat.”

She looked around the knot with wide eyes. “I don’t know what it means.”

Deimos grimaced. “If it were a good thing, wouldn’t they tell you?” He stood and paced the room, a heaviness in his shoulders. Romy didn’t know if it was because he was still weak, or if it was his newfound hatred.

“And that’s the thing,” Thrym said. “We were told not to ask questions. And we haven’t because we were told it could make things worse. But Atlas also implied this situation would be short term. It’s been three weeks and we’re still clueless. There’s something going on I don’t like.” A determined gleam lit his blue eyes.

Romy was more concerned about Lucas’s presence, which she had yet to tell anyone about. Indecision tugged her as she wondered if she should confess her suspicions.

“I say we collect food over the next few days and then go,” Deimos said from behind her.

Romy’s heart lurched as she turned. “So soon?”

Thrym nodded. “A few days is good. We have most of what we need. Ro, will the car be ready?”

Misery stamped on her again. “Well, yes.” She felt terrible to be doing this to Nancy, Eddie, and the others. “But I—”

“Can’t it be longer?” Elara asked. “I don’t think we should leave until we need to. This could all be nothing. Or the Mandate could even be trying to flush us out.”

“I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. I want it just to be us again. We can regroup and figure out our next move once we're away from here,” Deimos argued.

“What do you think, Ro?” Phobos asked, watching her flounder.

“I. . . ,” she started. She thought about Lucas, and the trial. Phobos was right; everything was in place for them to go. But Romy desperately wanted to give Atlas a chance to prove himself. It shouldn’t make sense that she would delay leaving for him, but the yearning to do just that overwhelmed everything else. “I’m with Ellie.”

Thrym’s expression darkened for a second. Just a fleeting second before it cleared. And Phobos’s face told her he saw right to the heart of her reasons to stay.

She tilted her face in the other direction.

“A vote, then,” Deimos suggested. “Those in favour of staying?”

Elara and Romy raised their hands.

The boys’ hands stayed down.

“We need to be ready to leave at any moment,” Deimos said. “We have three days to get everything we need.”

Romy stopped listening as her chest squeezed painfully. Leaving the others to discuss their escape plans, she made for her bunk. She stared at the blank wall.

Knot 27 was leaving in three days.

Atlas was angry at her. Houston was watching her. They were talking about her, and Knot 27.

Atlas thought she hated him.

And somehow she had to say goodbye.

* * *

T
here were two things the knot needed to do before they left: Get medicine and as much food as possible.

Stealing food would be the trickiest as most of the Hull food was perishable. They would have to kill animals in the wild for meat, which wouldn’t be too difficult if they had weapons. But they didn’t. No matter how much Deimos and Romy stared at the soldiers’ supply room for the answer. And no matter how long Thrym and Phobos discussed plans to break in.

Atlas was avoiding her yet again, except this time, she knew why. It was clear he wasn’t going to tell her the truth in time.

But the locked room might.

Romy needed to see what he was up to in there. Maybe it could help her decide whether or not to tell the grey-eyed man of the knot’s departure. She couldn’t do so without proof Atlas was on their side, and she remained unconvinced he didn’t have another agenda.

She took to testing the doorknob whenever she passed, which was often because she was trying to bump into Atlas to say sorry.

The two days passed and Romy only saw him in the Hull, and it was getting to the dire stage, with only one more day left that she would have to approach him there. How did you strike up conversation with someone who you’d told you didn’t trust? And what if he ignored her in front of Tina? She grimaced at the thought of being embarrassed in front of the other woman, and Deimos gave her a sideways look.

What would she even say to him? She couldn’t just say, “Sorry, goodbye”. If he grew suspicious after she spoke to him, it could put the entire knot at risk. But Romy couldn’t bear to leave without talking to him one last time.

She felt like a small piece of her would be torn off when they left. It occupied her every thought. As she stashed stolen clothing into her doona cover—each of their blankets now held a variety of seeds, food, and clothing; as she pocketed a piece of fruit after every meal with the others; and even as she agonised over stealing Nancy’s car, she thought about never seeing Atlas again. Of the hurt that would be in his eyes when he discovered they were gone.

They would leave Jimboomba and never see any of these people ever again—if they were successful. It seemed a cruel reward.

Romy watched Atlas as he left the Hull that night, ignoring the talk around her.

The light in Atlas’s office flicked on. Excusing herself and avoiding Thrym’s suspicious gaze, she left in the direction of their bungalow.

Once out of sight, she retraced her steps, keeping close to the buildings. She glanced towards the window where her knot was seated, laughing with the teen humans. And guilt churned her stomach because she knew she might be risking the entire knot. Perhaps it was pathetic and selfish, but she would rather not look back on this moment and regret not reaching out one last time. He’d held her in his arms for an entire night. It had to mean something.

Romy crept up the steps, avoiding the flickering light from the projector screen at one side. The smiling face of a Mandate member—the petite female again—flashed across, followed by the usual brainwashing words. A thin stream of light illuminated the centre of the entranceway. It came from Atlas’s office and cast the other offices into shadow.

His door was ajar. As Romy drew near, her ears picked up the sound of a voice inside his office. Not his own.

And not just any voice.

Hers
.

“It’s time, Atlas,” she said.

Romy ground her teeth together and raised her hand to knock.

“You know how to address me,” he replied.

The coldness in his voice was what stilled her hand. Lowering her arm, Romy pressed her eye to the crack and had to muffle her gasp. Tina was dressed in her usual combat gear, looking just as put together as always. Except her palms were splayed out over Atlas’s stomach.

An ugly red anger pulsed through Romy before settling in her gut.

“I know how to address you when we’re alone,” she purred. Romy squeezed her eyes shut and rolled sideways onto the wall, still listening.

“It’s time,” Tina pressed. “Why delay any further?”

Atlas paced the room. He was agitated for some reason, and she needed to know what it was. This was her last chance. Romy leant closer, with a quick look over her shoulder for Houston. The building was empty and dark.

“You’re right. It has to be done. I’ll make the call in the morning,” he said, voice hollow. “The Mandate will send a team down to collect the bodies.”

Horror riveted through Romy in a slow, vibrating tide. At first all she understood was that he was calling the enemy. Then the rest of what he’d said hit her. Atlas was alerting the Mandate. . . . Her mouth dried and she swayed on the spot. He couldn’t be reporting
them
, could he?

There was no way his words could mean what she thought they meant.

Cold fear trickled down her spine as she tried not to leap to conclusions.

“Will it be so hard to say goodbye to her?” Tina simpered.

Romy’s head spun as the woman confirmed her terrified misgivings.

“No,” he said. “It won’t.”

Hurt stabbed its way through her. It couldn’t be.

He. . . .

He wouldn’t do that to her. She ran through the conversation again, searching for any loophole, studying it from all angles.