Captives (37 page)

She finally pulled back and her brown eyes flit over his face. “Oh, Levi! Your nose! What happened?”

Levi scowled and rested his forehead against the chain link. “Omar.”

“Oh, love. Thank you for the card.” She reached her finger through the bars and rubbed his prickly cheek. “Two Xs? You look … scary.”

Not exactly the words he was hoping to hear. “Yes, I’m a regular Dread Pirate Roberts.”

She jerked on the fence and pursed her lips. “I meant scary because you only have one more chance.”

“Don’t give up on me, Jem. I’m going to get you out of here.

Her chin quivered. “I’m afraid for you. I’m afraid you’ll do something foolish.”

“I’ve been good, Jem. I’ve been doing your breathing trick to keep my temper in check. I need you to trust me. Remember when we were out looking for berries and we saw that black bear?”

“He wanted to eat us.”

“He wanted the berries, Jem, and you didn’t believe me, but you trusted me. And you were so brave. Now I need you to keep being brave, okay? Here.” Levi reached into the neckline of his shirt and pulled the chain over his head. “You take these. Keep them safe. As soon as I get you out of there, we’ll get married, okay?”

She pulled the chain through the fence and started to cry.

“No, no. I didn’t give them to you to make you sad.”

“They’re just so beautiful, Levi.” She fingered the diamond on the woman’s ring. “It’s cut like a teardrop.”

“You hold all my tears.”

“I won’t let them fall.” She gripped his fingers. “I want you to hold me.”

“Soon, Buttercup. Listen, if I hide some two-way radios in these trees, can you get them?”

“I think so. Which ones?”

“I’ll mark the spot somehow. With a ribbon or something colorful.”

“Won’t that draw attention?”

“How about I stash them in the branches of the tree to the right of the one I mark?”

Jemma nodded. “When?”

“I don’t know. I’ll try to come back tonight or tomorrow. Don’t talk until I test it. Can you get one to Mason?”

“I think so. Shaylinn said he’s working in the doctor’s office.”

“He is. Tell him the same. And keep them on channel four.”

“Okay.” She sniffled. “They did something to Shaylinn today.” Several tears fell down Jemma’s cheek. “They’re trying to make her pregnant. I’m so scared for her.”

Not Shaylinn. Levi fought back his rage with a growl. “What about you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t have to go in for another two weeks.”

“I’ll get you out before then.” He kissed her again. What else did he have to say? “Oh, I met some people.”

“The rebels?” She smiled—so beautiful. “When Naomi and I heard about them, we knew you’d find them.”

“Well, they want me to kill Otley.”

“What!” Her eyes flew wide. “Levi, you can’t kill anyone. You mustn’t!”

He wasn’t sure he had a choice. “It might be the only way to get the rebels to help.”

“No.” Jemma shook her head.

“Otley is the one who killed my dad and Papa Eli.”

“Oh …” She sniffed back tears. “Still, Levi, that doesn’t make it right. Revenge? That’s not what Papa Eli would have wanted. You can find another way. I believe in—”

“Time to go!” Rewl said.

He kissed her again. “Be careful, Jemma. Remember, I’ll always come for you.”

She grinned past her tears and played along. “But how can you be sure?”

“Because this is true love. You think this happens every day?” Levi kissed her fingertips, her lips, then forced himself to turn, to claw his way out of the trees. He saw Rewl running down the street with an enforcer on his heels. Levi turned and sprinted toward his truck.

Levi lingered in the Highlands until after dark. He parked his truck by a dumpster at the edge of Champion Park and walked inside, carrying a trash bag and a can of spray paint in case anyone spotted him. His biggest concern was hiding his rifle as he walked back to his truck, assuming the rifle was still there.

Please let it be there!

The park was about a half a mile wide and consisted of a forested area, a lake, and paved walking trails. One side of the park ran alongside the Highlands-Midlands wall. Levi realized he had originally come up through the grille at the northeastern corner of the park, only a block from Marcellina Steakhouse.

He kept to the shadow of the wall and quickly found the area where they’d caught him. Crickets were singing. He could hear the distant murmur of voices but saw no people. He kicked every bush he came to, peeked underneath trees, and had almost given up when he tripped over the barrel of his rifle.

He shoved the pack and rifle in the trash bag and carried it to his truck. Then he drove to the Snowcrest and parked in the lot that faced the harem. The garden fence was well lit. He considered using his rifle to shoot out some streetlamps but couldn’t risk anyone coming to investigate the noise while he was hiding the two-way radios. Better to just come at the gardens from the other side.

The darkest location seemed to be on the far end where the fence met the back of a building called the Whetstone. Levi drove to the Whetstone lot and looked in his pack. He’d give the windups to Jemma and Mason; Jordan could have a solar one. He shoved two windups
and a pair of wire cutters into a trash bag and darted along the back of the building.

When he reached the fence, he was on the far right of where he’d talked to Jemma. It would be easy to hide the radios in the bushes here, but he couldn’t risk her missing them. So he threaded his way through the trees that hid the fence, slowly making his way to the other side.

When he reached the general location of where he’d spoken to Jemma, he cut through enough links in the chain fence so he could push the radios through and tuck them into the lower branches of a bush on the other side. Then he cut some wires by the next bush over and tied the length of trash bags to a branch. The black plastic draped all the way to the grass, then blew in the gentle breeze. Not exactly colorful, but less obvious was better.

By the time he’d mended the fence and drove back to the Midlands, it was almost ten o’clock. Apparently Midlanders could leave the Highlands at any house, just not enter. He parked his truck and started across the parking lot toward the front doors of the Larkspur, carrying his trash bag-covered rifle and backpack.

A car pulled in front of him. The window slid down and Red said, “Get in.”

Levi desperately wanted to take his stuff into his apartment, but he couldn’t afford to ignore Bender. He got in the passenger’s side, holding the trash bag with his backpack and rifle on his lap. Red pulled out onto the street.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“Nowhere.” Red turned left out of the lot. “Heard you saw your lifer today.”

“Yeah.” Levi smiled at his fresh memory of Jemma.

“Still floating for her, then?”

Levi didn’t know what “floating” meant but wasn’t about to let Red know that. “I’ve known Jemma all my life. She and I, we … I don’t really know how to explain. It’s like we’re a match. We help each other be better people.”

Red drove past the G.I.N. and turned left before Café Eat. “Better than who?”

“Better than how we are alone.”

Red grunted. “Sounds boring. Like you let a computer match you up or something.”

“There are no computers where we’re from.”

“Well, being with the same person forever doesn’t sound fun to me.”

Why was he talking about this with Red? Why was she so nosy? “Where I’m from, if a man marries a woman, he stays with her his entire life. No matter what. They’re a team. And they never give up on each other. Even when it’s hard.”

“Sounds like unnecessary trouble.” She drove into a left turn lane and stopped to wait for the light. “But it’s your life, shell. I just think you’d be wise to shop around.”

“That would only destroy what we have.” The guilt from his night with Kosowe was heavy enough. He didn’t need any more of that.

Red turned at the light and turned right again at the next one. She was circling back to the Larkspur. Good. “Listen, Bender says to tell you that hanging around the harem and talking to surrogates is against the law. He says you do that again, he isn’t going to help you.”

“It won’t happen again because we’re going to get her out.”

Red rolled her eyes. “You’re so strange. Bender also said to tell you that he’s going to rescue your boys on Saturday—that medic and your angry friend. That’s the earliest he could coordinate it with their task schedules.”

“Saturday will be fine.” Saturday was well before Jemma was scheduled for her procedure.

Red pulled the car into the Larkspur’s parking lot. She powered off the vehicle and scooted to the middle of the seat, roughly pushing Levi’s trash bag aside before placing her hand on his knee. The smell of her perfume pulled his gaze to her lips.

“What do you want to do now?” she asked.

Red’s hand was sliding higher up his thigh. He looked down and seized her wrist. He wasn’t going to make a mistake like this again.

He tapped his fist against the doorplate, and the door glided open. Seconds later he’d grabbed his stuff and slid out of the car.

“I’m going to go to bed. Alone.”

A
knock woke Omar. His head throbbed between his ears, and he grabbed a pillow to muffle out the noise.

The knock sounded again, sharper. He should sit up. Go deal with whoever that was.

“Just a minute!” a woman’s voice said. Belbeline.

He opened one eye. He was at Bel’s apartment. In her bedroom. The realization of his weakness brought on a sudden panic, and he searched the ceiling for bright yellow cameras, wondering if the task director knew he was here. Again. Or that he’d failed. Again.

He didn’t care. He was going to marry Belbeline anyway. And she couldn’t possibly have the thin plague. She was too pretty. Too soft.

Muted voices carried from the far side of the apartment. He squinted at the bedside table.
Yes.
His vaporizer was there. He reached for it, but his arm didn’t obey. It felt like it was encased in steel.

What time was it, anyway?

Must. Move.
He propped himself up onto one elbow and peered at the open bedroom door. The voices became clearer.

“Left you five messages, Bel-bel, and—Who painted that?” A man’s voice. Deep.

“You’re not my task director, Ollie,” Belbeline said. “I don’t have to report to you.”

“And those! Whose shoes are those?”

Belbeline clicked her tongue. “I don’t know. People come over a lot. I can’t keep track of who leaves their stuff here.”

“You’re not alone.”

It’s wasn’t a question. It was a realization. And it didn’t sound happy. Omar raised his eyebrows and looked around the dark room, wondering where he might hide.

Wait. Why should
he
hide? Belbeline was his girlfriend. And he was an enforcer. He should storm out there and confront this jerk who was hassling her. He threw off the covers, but the cold air clapped around him, and the throbbing in his head intensified. He grabbed his vaporizer and burrowed back under the covers. One deep breath later, his head cleared.

Until the lights flashed on. Omar shut his eyes and pulled the covers over his head.

“That who I think it is?” the man’s voice said.

The blankets were pulled away, leaving Omar cold and half naked on the bed. He strained to see the large, hairy man who loomed above the bed.

General Otley! What?

Omar could only stare, his PV pinched between his thumb and two fingers. Soon the cylinder was at his mouth, and he took another long drag. The stims were helping him wake, but his brain felt foggy, loose. Or maybe his brain was fine, and this was more of a communication problem between his brain and limbs.

Otley grabbed Omar’s ankle and pulled him off the end of the bed. Omar’s back hit the floor first, then his head. Otley held his ankle in the air and shook it, glaring down. “Those are
my
pajamas, little rat.”

Omar looked himself over. He was shirtless, wearing the black satin pajama pants Bel had given him. No wonder they were so big. He looked to Bel, and his voice came out raspy, the blood rushing to his head. “You said these were a present.”

Otley threw Omar’s leg down and kicked him, his heavy boot like a hammer to Omar’s ribs. The blow flipped him onto his stomach. “This ends now,
rat
. Don’t even look at Bel-bel again.”

Omar crawled around the side of the bed, wanting only to get away from that boot.

“Don’t be a prude, Ollie,” Bel said. “I can see who I want.”

“And I can task who I want.”

“I’m
not
going back to that club.”

“Keep away from the shell, and you won’t have to.” Otley strode out of the bedroom.

Bel followed. “You don’t own me, Ollie. Why do you have to be such a fun-downer?”

“I’m the enforcer general. All part of my image. And I’m taking this painting.”

The front door slammed, shaking the windows. Omar’s stomach throbbed. He still clutched his PV in his fist, so he took another long drag and pulled the blanket over himself, curling into a ball on the floor. Some of the pain ebbed away, but the ache still held him in a fist.
This can’t be real. It just can’t.