Embattlement: The Undergrounders Series Book Two (A Young Adult Science Fiction Dystopian Novel) (9 page)

M
y stomach plummets
. Jerome strides through the front entryway, swiftly cataloguing everyone present, his webbed face rigid. A scowling Blackbeard limps in after him and positions himself, legs astride, by the wooden stall closest to the entry. He clutches his gun in a deceptively casual gesture against his chest, but something tells me he could unload a round in half a heartbeat if called upon.

Izzy huddles in Jakob's arms, staring unabashedly at Jerome’s jarring disfigurement.

I breathe slowly in and out as I run through my few options, instantly discarding them. I was banking on Jerome and Blackbeard being somewhere on the city barricade, preoccupied with monitoring the situation with the approaching Rogues. Whatever chance I had of convincing the riders to help us, it’s gone now that Jerome’s discovered us.

All I can do is come clean—maybe he’ll listen to me now that the others are here to back up my story. I steel myself, and take a hesitant step forward. “Jerome,” I begin. “I can explain—”

He makes a dismissive gesture in my direction, lasers his one-eyed beam in on someone behind me. I turn and follow his gaze.

Several feet behind me, Sven stands frozen in place, a stunned expression on his ordinarily unruffled face. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of them, but there’s static in the air. It might have something to do with the alarming first impression Sven makes. I’ve seen how people wither into submission the instant they set eyes on him. But Jerome doesn’t seem like the withering type.

The air in the barn sharpens around us like a spiked collar. The riders exchange uncertain glances, instinctively reaching for their horses’ reins. Jody slides a hand to the gun in her holster. I furtively scan the space searching for anything I can use as a weapon. I don’t want to be caught unarmed if this staredown signals an impending fight. Any one of us could end up in the crosshairs, including Izzy.

I run my hand nonchalantly over the neighboring stall, checking for a loose piece of wood. Out of the corner of my eye I spot Blackbeard step away from the rickety wooden partition he was leaning against and raise his gun. I force myself not to look in his direction, but I can feel his eyes on me. He probably realized I was up to something by the look of obvious desperation on my face. I’ve lost the element of surprise now. I don’t dare make a move with a gun trained on me.

Jakob places a protective hand on Izzy’s head, and turns her away from what’s unfolding. Buck and Elijah raise questioning brows at me, momentarily distracted from their charges. My heart skips a beat. I signal to them to stay alert. Won will likely bury himself in the straw and hide at the first sign of trouble, but Rummy will be bent on escape. I only hope he’s still too nauseated from his ride here to attempt anything.

“Surprised to see me, Sven?” Jerome says, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

He knows Sven?
I swallow hard, unsure if this is a good thing or if we’re in even worse trouble now than ever.

“Probably shouldn’t be.” Sven shakes his head. “How’d you pull it off?”

A shadow passes over Jerome’s face. “It didn’t pan out the way it was supposed to. I was the only one who made it.”

Sven frowns. “We never saw the official report, so I wasn’t sure.”

“Sure of
what
?” I interrupt, my skin tingling with a mixture of dread and cautious optimism. “How do you two know each other?”

Sven looks at me appraisingly for a moment, his amber eyes heavy with emotion. “Jerome and I go back a long way. We grew up together in the cloning program.”

I pucker my brow and stare for a moment at the lattice scars across Jerome’s face. “You’re a military clone?”

He squares his shoulders, his face drawn. “I’m a deviation.”

I suck in a violent breath. My mind ricochets back to the grotesque creature in the Craniopolis who saved my life. I stare agog at Jerome. He’s nowhere near as malformed as that other deviation, but now I recognize his corrugated skin for what it is; a genetic cloning mutation, courtesy of the Sweepers’ obscene experimentation. My mind reels. “How did you escape from the Craniopolis?”

“Another deviation and I worked for months to dig a tunnel from inside a maintenance room. Sven and Mason were working to connect it with a tunnel leading from the Biotik Sektor. We had only another four or five feet to go when a Schutz Clone patrol spotted the other deviation climbing out of the entrance one night. They shot him on the spot and sealed up the tunnel.”

I throw him a bewildered look. “So, did you dig another one?”

Jerome sweeps his eye over the mesmerized faces clustered around. His chest heaves up and down a couple of times, as if the memory lays heavy on him. “I was already inside the tunnel when they sealed it, hidden behind a false wall of dirt we had built to make it look as if we had only just begun. I had no choice but to keep digging my way out all through the night.”

An unearthly shudder runs down my spine. I press my knuckles to my lips trying to blot the image from my mind. I’ve had my share of living beneath the dirt, but nothing approaching live burial. My heart races. I can almost feel the air hanging thick and stale in my nostrils.

Every last feeling of hostility toward Jerome evaporates. No wonder he’s leery of every Undergrounder who crosses his path. He’s lived through more, and suffered more, at human hands, than any living being should ever have to. What he’s built here in the city, however bleak and dangerous, is a dream he sacrificed to make happen, a chance to live free beyond the iron reach of the Sweepers’ regime. A flicker of hope goes through me. Surely Jerome will be only too willing to help us rescue Owen and Panju.

I turn my head at a sudden movement on the other side of the barn. My breath catches in my throat.

Jody raises her pistol to eye level and points it at Jerome with both hands. “You said you were burned in the meltdown.” Her eyes dart around the stalls before settling on me. “And
you
said you were with a group of Undergrounders.” She waves her gun at Rummy and then gestures at Sven. “They sure don’t look like Undergrounders to me.” As if in solidarity, Condor suddenly throws back his head, and then pounds both hind legs against the stall. Jody throws an anxious glance over her shoulder when he whinnies, but doesn’t slacken her grip on her gun. I look over at Jakob and Izzy to make sure they’re out of range if Condor bolts, or if Jody pulls the trigger.

I take a step toward her, hands held high. “Jody, I can explain everything. We’re on a mission to overthrow the Sweepers. We need your help.”

She slants her brows inward, a mixture of confusion and suspicion in her eyes.

“The Sweepers are experimenting with human cloning technology. Sven and Jerome were part of the program.”

Jody’s eyes dart between Jerome and me. “So what exactly is a deviation?”

I let out a long breath. She’s willing to hear me out. Now I just have to convince her of something I can scarcely believe myself, even after seeing it with my own eyes. “The deviations are …” I wipe my sweaty palms on my jacket as I fight back memories of a bulging, blood red eye staring up at me from a distorted skull.

“What she’s trying to say is that we’re the research rejects,” Jerome interjects. “Collateral cloning damage if you like.”

Sven rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “We’re all collateral damage. The technology is deeply flawed. Clones, deviations or otherwise, have a limited lifespan, twenty-five years if we’re lucky.”

Jody gapes at him, the muscles in her face twitching. The other riders exchange dubious looks and mutter nervously among themselves.

Jakob turns toward her, a wide-eyed Izzy clasped tight to his chest. “The truth is we
all
have a limited lifespan as long as the Sweepers continue to operate.”

“He’s right,” I say. “Unless we come together and find a way to destroy them, the only life any of us will ever know will be short-lived. It’s going to take all of us, Undergrounders, riders, even the Rogues, to take down those monsters.”

Jody lowers her gun, retreats a few hesitant steps and slides her hand down Condor’s neck, as if drawing comfort from the familiarity of the gesture. She scans the faces in the room again, and then jerks her chin in Won’s direction. “What about him? Is he a deviation or a clone?”

“Neither. He’s a scientist,” I say. “He defected from the Craniopolis.”

Jody narrows her eyes. “A
Sweeper
? Did he have a hand in this cloning operation?”

I swallow back a wad of tart saliva. I can’t reveal to her the full extent of Won’s role in the Craniopolis. Based on the fire in her eyes right now, she’d likely unload a round into him. And I need Won alive, at least for now. “Most of the scientists were lured to the Craniopolis under false pretenses and then coerced into participating. Won wanted out.”

“So why’s he tied up?” Jerome asks.

I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Won’s not really a threat. It’s more that I don’t trust Rummy. If he manipulates Won into untying him, someone will end up with their throat slit, and I’m not willing to take that chance.

I give a sheepish grin. “We’re still in the ‘getting to know him’ phase. I know you’re a fan of processing new recruits properly.”

Jerome’s expression relaxes, although it’s hardly a smile.

Jody gestures at Rummy. “What’s the Rogue doing with you?”

A commotion outside the building grabs our attention before I can answer. I swing around as two Undergrounders burst through the entry, dragging a man by the armpits. They stride across the barn and toss him at Jerome’s feet. “Nabbed this one scaling the barricade, the others got away.”

I stare down at their captive. He presses his palms flat to the ground, lifts his head, and latches onto me with a venomous look.

A
cold chill
racks my bones.

Blade rigs a sneer across his face. “Well if it ain’t the little vixen I’ve been after.”

I point an accusing finger at him and turn to Jody. “
He’s
the reason we’re holding the other Rogue hostage. I knew he’d come after him. They’re brothers.”

Jerome motions to his men and they haul Blade unceremoniously to his feet. “Take him to the courthouse and lock him up.” Jerome turns to me, a stony expression on his face. “It’s time you told me what you and your friends are really doing here.”

S
eated
opposite Jerome at a splintered trestle table in a makeshift dining room at the back of the courthouse, Trout and I dig into the best meal we’ve had in months. I pinch myself repeatedly as I chew.

Blade.
Captured
.

This changes everything. I had given up all hope of intercepting him before he reached the Wilderness of No Return. Until the moment the riders threw him down at Jerome’s feet in the barn, I was second-guessing my crazy plan to head for the wilderness and negotiate with the subversives. But with both Rummy and Blade in the bag, my confidence in our ability to sway
The Ghost,
the leader they all fear—the one vote that counts as Rummy put it—has been renewed.

If I send Rummy into the wilderness to recruit the subversives now, I know he’ll come back for Blade. He owes him his life. Blade was desperate to reach the Craniopolis and rescue Rummy when he got extracted. Despite their on-again off-again rivalry, they’ve proven the bond between them is ironclad. It’s what I have—
had
—with Owen. A wave of pain slams me in the gut and I almost choke on a mouthful of food.

“You all right?” Trout asks, reaching for another piece of chicken, one eye on the laden platters that keep appearing.

I nod and wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. “Just need to slow the pace. Haven’t had anything this good in a long time.”

Jerome pushes a bowl of roasted vegetables in my direction. I hold up my hand, and he grunts and passes it instead to Trout, who hasn’t refused anything yet.

I lean back in my chair and pass a choice morsel under the table to an ecstatic Tucker. My belly is full for the first time in days, tingling with a satisfaction that has as much to do with renewed hope as it does with the succulent meat that melted in my mouth after days of gnawing on dried out rabbit jerky. With Rummy, Blade, and Won safely locked up under Sven and Blackbeard’s supervision, and the riders helping Jakob, Izzy, and the other Council members search the city for Izzy’s brother, and Jakob’s parents, I finally have a chance to press my case with Jerome. “So now that you know what our mission’s really about, will you join us?”

Jerome takes a mouthful of water and swills it around. “I swore I’d never set foot in that hell again.”

“We know what they do there,” Trout interjects. “That’s why we have to stop them.”

“With Rogues?” Jerome rubs the stubble on his chin, his one eye cast downward. “They’re every bit the animals the Sweepers are. They kill without mercy—men, women and children.”

I press my lips together tightly. Yet, they spared Izzy.
The bad guy what told me to run away fast.

“They acted out of fear,” I say. “They thought we were harboring snitches. I think we should give them a chance.”

Jerome sucks on a bone and tosses it to Tucker who sits patiently, but expectantly, at his feet. Everyone’s in love with him already. The rider who brought him in on her horse was reluctant to part with him at first. But after the lick fest Tucker showered on me, it was clear where his allegiance lies.

“I don’t go to war with men I don’t trust, and I don’t like the sound of The Ghost,” Jerome says.

“I wish we didn’t have to enlist subversives either,” Trout says, “but they’re experienced fighters.”

I flick my braid impatiently over my shoulder. “You don’t have to trust them once this is over, but there’s no way around it—we need their help to free Owen, and Panju, and end the extractions.”

Jerome rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “And then what? What if they resort to being the butchers we all know they can be? We certainly can’t bring them back here to the city with us afterward.”

I push my chair out from the table and stand. “We can if we have a way to keep the city safe. Sven says only the Schutz Clones are loyal to Lyong. The military clones will side with us. They can help us restore order afterward. If the Rogues don’t like our rules, they can build their own settlement.”

Jerome grunts. “Even if I agree to help, this isn’t some pig hunt we can pack up and leave for at a moment’s notice. It’s gonna take planning, supplies, proper training. It could be weeks before we’re ready.”

Trout and I exchange despairing looks.

My stomach knots at the thought of delaying any further. If there’s any chance at all that Owen and Panju are alive, we have to reach the Craniopolis as soon as possible. “My brother and my friend may not have that much time.”

Jerome rubs a finger over his eyebrow and sighs softly. “This isn’t just about you. Everyone in Shoshane City depends on me to make decisions that keep them alive and safe. You’re asking them, and me, to risk everything, even the freedom I dug through the earth for. If you want us to help you, the least you can do is give us a fighting chance to succeed.”

I ruffle Tucker’s neck distractedly. Jerome’s right. This mission is about all of us now. I straighten up, a weight like an iron crowbar pressing down on my chest. “I’ll take those terms. I can’t do this without your help. We’ll wait until the Undergrounders are properly prepared.”

“Are you sure about this?” Trout frowns across the table at me.

I push down the memory of Owen's feverish eyes, pleading with me to finish what he started. “I’m sure. We only get one crack at this. We need to make it count.”

“One last thing,” Jerome says, drumming his fingers on the table. “My offer of help is contingent on us evacuating the deviations.”

I raise my brows. “How are we going to pull that off?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’m not leaving them behind.” Jerome drains his water and stands. “We’ll meet tonight to hash out a plan. I’ll have the Undergrounders who are willing to fight gather at the courthouse. In the meantime, feel free to look around the city.” He slaps a hand down on the table and grins. “Just don’t go picking any more locks. We’re in short supply.”

I chuckle. “Deal.”

“Speaking of looking around, Jody mentioned something about a superconductor,” Trout says.

Jerome tenses, turns a wary eye in Trout’s direction. “What about it?”

Trout shrugs. “What is it?”

Jerome twists his lips, as if struggling with some decision.

“If we’re in this together, we can’t keep any more secrets from each other,” I say.

He rubs a hand across his jaw. “One of the riders discovered the superconductor on the east side of the city. Supposedly, it was built by the world government before the meltdown to research the commercial viability of transmitting power to cities.”

“How does it work?” I ask.

“I’m not exactly sure. I’ve been told superconductor magnets can accelerate high energy particles to nearly the speed of light.”

Trout pushes his plate aside and leans forward on his elbows. “Jody says it prevents the Hovermedes from flying close to the city. Is that true?”

Jerome throws a quick glance over his shoulder before continuing, his voice lowered. “There’s a physicist in the city who was involved with the project before the meltdown. The commercial power angle was only a cover. The superconductor was really a military program initiated by the sovereign leader to develop E-bombs that deliver high-intensity electro-magnetic pulses to disable electronic equipment—lucky for us as it turns out. The Hovermedes catch fire whenever they come too close to the city. We keep the superconductor running night and day, so there’s no chance of a surprise attack.”

Trout raises a brow. “I’d like to see it. I never heard any mention of it before the meltdown.”

“It didn’t get much publicity at the time because of the bio-hazard it presented. Turns out electromagnetic energy attacks the body’s immune system, causes blindness, cancer, all sorts of ugly stuff.”

I frown at Jerome. “Is it still a hazard?”

He gives a reluctant nod. “The Undergrounders may be safe from the Sweepers for now, but the city will kill them in the end. Some of them are already sick. If we don’t defeat the Sweepers, we’ll have to shut down the superconductor anyway and go back underground. Either way, our days here are numbered.”

He pushes his bowl aside. “That’s why I’m going to help you. We can’t stay here much longer.”

He reaches for his gun. “I need to take care of a few things. I’ll inform the Undergrounders and riders of the meeting, and meet you back here tonight.” He turns and frowns at us on his way out the door. “Stay away from the superconductor. The guards have orders to shoot trespassers on sight. We can’t risk sabotage.” He gives a quick salute and disappears out the door.

Trout stands and rubs his belly. “What do you say we explore the city before it gets dark?”

“You mean … the superconductor?” I hitch a brow at him.

He throws me a loaded look. “First, I want to find out if anyone from my bunker made it here.”

“Good idea.” I get to my feet, reminding myself it’s ridiculous to hope I’ll find Ma here too.

T
rout
and I head back outside, and begin making our way down the main street, ogling like two kids at the sights while Tucker sniffs and explores everything in his path. People mill around everywhere, occupied once again with work, trade, and conversation. Whatever lockdown drill the city went into earlier has ended. Word must have spread that one of the Rogues was captured, and the others split.

It’s odd to see goat pens and chicken coops inside the city limits where strip malls and parking lots once dominated. My mouth waters at the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from a nearby window as we pass by. Trout makes an approving sound. “Wanna take a look?”

I arch a disapproving brow at him. “We just stuffed ourselves.”

Trout shrugs and wanders over to a man weeding a raised garden bed. The man looks up briefly without pausing from his work. “Howdy. If you’re needing something, I just took a cartload of root vegetables and potatoes to the cellar.”

“Thanks, we’re just looking around,” I call to him. “Let’s go, Trout.”

The man stabs his trowel into the dirt and arches his back. “Newbies?”

Trout nods. “The riders rescued us from a sweep, not long before they caught that Rogue.”

The man sniffs. “We’ve spotted several Rogues over the past few weeks, doing recon most likely. When they hit us, they’ll hit hard.”

“Won’t the barricade keep them out?” Trout asks.

The man shakes his head. “Won’t hold them off forever. It’s too spread out for us to defend on all fronts.”

“So what’s plan ‘B’?” I ask, frowning. “Negotiate?”

“We trade.”

“Trade what?” I gesture derisively at the raised bed. “Vegetables?”

The man throws a hasty glance down the street. “You best take that up with Jerome.” He reaches for his trowel and begins hacking at the soil. “I gotta wrap this up. See you around.”

I fall into step with Trout, unsettled by the man’s cagey manner. “What do you make of that?” I ask. “I think he was hiding something from us.”

Trout stares straight ahead. “I know one thing Jerome has to trade that the Rogues want.”

“You mean the superconductor?”

“They don’t even know that exists.” Trout turns and looks right at me. “But they know we have Blade.”

I shake my head. “Jerome wouldn’t do that. He knows we need Blade for the mission to have any chance of success.”

“What else does he have to trade?”

I shrug. “Maybe it’s time we found out. Let’s take a look around, see what he’s got going on here.” I point at a large concrete building with a giant dagger-shaped crack in its arched entry. “Let’s start here. Must be something worth seeing. There’s a steady stream of people going in and out.”

We enter through the fractured archway and make our way down a short hallway that leads to a high-ceilinged factory-type room. The cavernous space is lined with waist-high beds of plants growing over an assortment of giant plastic tubs. Dozens of people are bent over the beds, picking and sorting through seedlings.

“Hey, check this out!” Trout peers into one of the plastic tubs. “There’s fish in here.”

I lean over the nearest tub and trail my fingers through the water. Several fish flip and dart off in the opposite direction. Tucker puts his paws up on the edge and laps up a few mouthfuls of water before turning away in disgust. “What is this place?” I ask. “Some kind of aquarium?”

A man leaning over the tub next to us laughs. “You must be new. This is the aquaponics center.”

“Aqua—
what
?” Trout says.

“Aquaponics. The plants filter the water and recycle the fish waste, and the fish get their nutrients from the plants. It’s an efficient way of producing food, especially now that our numbers are growing so rapidly. We can feed everyone in the city from the fish and vegetables we produce in here alone.”

Trout turns to me, and winks. “Maybe Jerome’s planning on trading goldfish.”

I laugh, and glance admiringly over the sea of neat rows of plastic tubs. Jerome’s accomplished a lot for these people in a short amount of time. I’m gaining more respect for him by the minute. My eyes settle on a woman hunched over a blue, plastic fish tank. She tosses her long, blond hair back from her face, straightens up and walks slowly down the adjacent aisle, stopping briefly to check on the occasional plant. I pucker my brow. There’s something vaguely familiar about her profile. My pulse picks up pace as she draws closer. She hesitates, turns slowly, as if sensing she’s being observed. Her startled eyes sweep past Trout and lock with mine.