Rebellion (15 page)

“We—the Enforcers, Guards, and certain Citizens—have performed an investigation, and we have found the means by which the Surface Dweller was able to get into and out of the city. How he was able to steal my daughter so easily.”

There's a small murmur, but Mother holds up her hand in a stop gesture and the Citizens all quiet. “Now, I know many of you think that Evelyn had no real role in this city. That she was … what's the word I heard someone use? Oh yes … daft?”

She focuses on someone in the audience, but I don't catch who, although I do remember that many people here did have a low opinion of me.

“But I'm here to say that is not the case. She didn't just follow that Surface Dweller blindly. He tricked her. And while some of you are thinking that it was an easy task—that she was foolish—I'm here to assure you that it was not. This trickery proves that the Surface Dwellers are much more cunning, ruthless, and dangerous than even I had previously thought.”

“What is she doing?” Asher mutters.

“Shh!” I hiss. I'm curious, too, and I don't want to miss a thing.

“My daughter had been, with my permission and encouragement, of course, spending countless hours reading Surface documents and watching historical reports of Surface life pre- to post-war, collecting and cataloging items from the Surface with the help of her betrothed—who is believed to have been killed by the Surface Dweller in his attempts to get to Evelyn.” I glare at Mother through the screen. I can't believe I'm even surprised that she'd lie and use Gavin as a scapegoat.

She continues, and it takes everything I have to not slip into Enforcer mode. I can feel it pulling at me, but I get it under control so I can hear what she's saying. “… And not only investigated ways Surface cities defended their cities, and their people, from training to weapons to all of their past wars, but taught herself these ways. She used this knowledge to set into place security measures that would prevent the destruction of our wonderful city by the Surface. This knowledge also made way for much of the training the Enforcers and Guards receive to keep our city running smoothly and peacefully. So that what happened there cannot happen down here.

“She was, in fact, in the middle of researching the current Surface Dwellers and their ways, which to my bottomless guilt and dismay, was part of the reason we detained the Surface Dweller instead of eliminating him as soon as we were made aware of his presence…”

Asher taps me on the shoulder and I turn. He gives me a questioning look, but I shake my head. “No,” I whisper. “I wasn't doing any of that. I've always been interested in the Surface, but … I never researched it like she says … unless I was doing it without even knowing it. Like it was part of my Conditioning. And Timothy wasn't helping me. He brought me things he thought I'd find interesting and I had a tidy collection built up, but it wasn't to study your ways or anything.” I don't know who I'm trying to convince. Me? Or Asher?

“… So as you can see, if
she
—one of the most well-versed persons of this city—can be fooled and seduced by a Surface Dweller, then the rest of us have no chance against them. Surface Dwellers have changed in the years we've kept ourselves in seclusion. They've become far worse than even I could have imagined and we must be ever vigilant to those that wish to destroy our city. Those who may have been tainted by the Surface Dweller.”

She pauses and from the camera angle I have, I can see tears delicately forming in her beautiful blue eyes. She wraps her arms around her stomach as if trying to comfort herself. My stomach twists at the gesture and I tense as I keep my eyes on her.

“I also regret to inform you that during the course of our investigation, I sent out my most trusted Enforcers to get my daughter back from the Surface Dwellers' dirty and blood-covered hands, but before they even left the trench, they found what appeared to be damage to one of the walls. Upon closer inspection, the Enforcers located what was left of a submarine.”

“What's she playing at now?” Asher mutters.

There's a loud gasp from the audience and I narrow my eyes. Yes, indeed, what
is
she doing now?

“In the ruins of the submarine, we found the remains of two bodies. After extensive DNA testing, we are positive that the remains are that of the Surface Dweller and my beloved daughter.”

Frustration and anger burn just under my skin, but I want to know where Mother is going.

“We believe that Evelyn went willingly with the Surface Dweller due to information she received during her interviews with him. That she believed that he was more dangerous than we previously imagined and that the only way we would be safe is for him to be removed from our facility. We've learned that while we originally thought the murders of her close friend Macie and Macie's betrothed, Nick, were at Evelyn's hand, the Surface Dweller was the one who actually killed these people.”

I press a hand to my lips. “Why? Why would you lie? What's the point?”

“To prove Surface Dwellers are evil and manipulative,” Asher says without a single trace of emotion in his voice. The only hint I get that he's angry is how tense his arms are.

“We believe that the vessel wrecked because Evelyn tried to gain control of it and return home. Because of that, they lost control and crashed into the side of the trench. At this depth, the submarine would have imploded on impact, killing everyone on board.”

She sniffs and I can actually see tears running down her face.

“However, due to her sacrifice, we are able to maintain our secrecy and safety. Because she gave her life for all of us, we can live without fear of discovery. My daughter, the Daughter of the People, had nothing but the best interests of her people in mind until her last breath, and for that she deserves our praise and respect. Please, for her sake, let us take a moment in silent reflection of what she did for our city. What
every
Citizen should be willing to do to protect our city.”

I sit straight up. “I don't understand. Why is she doing this?”

“She made you a martyr, Evie,” Asher finally says.

“Why?”

“We'll find out soon enough.” He points back to the hologram.

Mother clears her throat and pats under her eyes with a tissue. “While Evie was sacrificing herself for Elysium's protection, there was another working against us. Against her.” She signals someone off stage and I see an Enforcer forcing someone up to the stage. A man with short blond hair, dark slacks, and a white shirt is struggling against the girl, but like any Enforcer worth her salt, she has no trouble shoving him forward until he's standing next to Mother, then forcing him to his knees.

“Joseph,” I gasp, when the man looks up, directly into the cameras.

Asher and I share a horrified look. This can't be possible. How did they find him so quickly? How did she
know
?

“Many of you are asking yourselves how did the Surface Dweller get in? How did he know how to get to our Daughter? And I'm here to tell you it was him.” She points her hand at Joseph. “This man—no, not a man. A rat. This
rat
is a traitor. It has been proven that he was working
with
the Surface Dweller. That
he
was the reason the Surface Dweller was able to make his way in, and later, escape. With Evelyn. With our Daughter. Without setting off the turrets or the cameras.
He's
the reason. For everything. For the death of our city. For the death of our Daughter. For the disappearance of one of our most talented physicians and the death of his assistant. He's the one that sent the fraudulent orders and the list of missing people to each and every one of you, to wrongly accuse me and cast doubt in the absolute beauty of our city.”

She turns to him and more tears—fake ones, obviously—pour down her cheeks in rivulets. I can only stare. That's not right. That's not right at all. Gavin and I escaped on our own.
I
got us out.
I
found the maintenance tunnels.
I
betrayed my city and my people. Not this man. Not the one standing with blood dripping from his mouth, hunched over and holding onto his stomach as if everything inside it might fall out if he lets go. And just like always, there is nothing I can do.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” She kneels down next to him and lifts his chin so he's forced to look at her.

My breath wheezes out of me and Asher places his hand on my shoulder. He just keeps repeating, “Easy,” over and over again, but I don't pay any attention to him. I can't. I'm riveted to the screen and Joseph.

He only smiles at her, showing bloodied teeth. “Evie … lives.” He gasps it out, then spits in her face, coating her white skin in red gloopy streaks.

I gasp along with the crowd, and even though I pray that Mother will ignore the insolence and move on or at least show some mercy, I silently cheer, too. He's not just going to roll over and let her take his life. He must know what's going to happen. Everyone has to. Because mercy isn't something Mother possesses. She lost that long before I ever entered into the picture.

Mother wipes her face with her bare fingers, then flicks them, splattering the bloody spittle to the ground, and glaring at him before standing and turning toward the audience. “Elysium will
not
suffer a traitor to live.”

She flicks her hand again, moving away from Joseph. I want to look away. Asher
tells
me to look away. But I can't. I know what's coming, but I can't force my eyes away.

As I expect, one of the Enforcers on stage pulls out her pistol, holds it to Joseph's head, and with only the slightest hesitation, fires, splattering Mother's white dress with Joseph's blood.

 

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

Sometimes a deal with the devil is better than no deal at all.

—
A B
RIEF
H
ISTORY OF THE 21ST
C
ENTURY,
P
OLITICS,
F
ACT AND
F
ICTION

Gavin

I wake early in the morning and want to scream in agony. My stomach feels even worse than yesterday. The meatheads from the city can really pack a punch. Just pushing myself up to a sitting position hurts like nothing I've ever felt before.

I curse and pant for the entire movement, then I force myself to stand and stumble over to the mirror to stare at my reflection. There's dried blood crusted in the stubble on my face, with a broken line of it running from my mouth down past my chin to my neck, and an ugly bruise on my chin. I touch it gently and hiss.

Damn it!

Of course, that's not the only sore point. I carefully lift the corner of my T-shirt, wincing at the reddish-purpling of my skin that's spread from the two impact zones. It hurts to even stretch my abdomen.

Assholes.

But really I'm more mad at myself. I have to always think things through. Always. Even when my gut is screaming that what I'm doing is right. I should have just listened to Asher's mom. She was right and I knew it. Even then. Asher's father is hell-bent on finding Evie. I don't know why—although, I'm thinking Asher probably does. Which could be the real reason why he was in such a hurry to get Evie out of Rushlake. When I get back to Elysium, I really need to apologize to him.

I do know that Mayor St. James will do anything to get her back. Including making a deal with someone like me. Asher's mom gave me a start on what to do. Now I have to fill in the blanks and make it believable.

Mom pokes her head into my open doorway. Her eyes are sad when she sees me and my bruises. Not exactly what I want to see on my mother's face first thing in the morning.

“It's not ideal, but you can go wash in the ocean. It'll at least get that blood off. The water's freezing, which will probably make those bruises feel better, and the salt will help clean the wounds.”

She heaves a sigh, and just before she turns around, I can see the spark of life that she always had, no matter how bad things got for us, is gone. Her shoulders are slumped, and she seems to have aged overnight. There are hollows under her eyes and she looks like she's lost even more weight.

I did that to her.

Because I left her to handle things alone by herself without even teaching Tristan the basics of survival. Because I flew off the handle with the mayor. I stand behind that decision, though. There's never a reason to hit a woman—except Mother; I'd beat the hell out of her if I could—and I've been waiting for years to get my hands on the mayor. I have to admit his hardheadedness isn't just metaphorical. My hand still hurts where I punched him. At least I have some pleasure in knowing that bastard will walk around with a bruise for a while.

Explain
that,
Mr. St. James.

“I'm sorry,” I say, before Mom can disappear like a ghost down the hallway.

She turns back around, tipping her head in obvious confusion. “What for?”

“I screwed everything up.” My energy leaves me all at once and I sit back onto my bed. Misery makes my whole body ache worse than anything those goons did to me.

She tips her head the other way, her eyebrows furrowed. “How?”

“Leaving you. Not teaching Tristan to hunt—”

“For trying to help the girl you love? For coming back to check on us? For standing up for your family when we needed you?” She pierces me with a glance. “From where I stand, you did nothing wrong. Do I wish you wouldn't have used violence to solve your problem? Yes. But I also know that men like the mayor listen to nothing but brutality.” She comes to me and gently takes my face in her hands. “Look what he did to you. To me. To
Tristan.
This isn't your fault. It's his.” She lets go with a smile. That spark of life is back in her eyes. “And I see those wheels turning in that head of yours. You're planning something. Stop questioning yourself. Just do it. Action is the only way to move forward.” Then she turns and moves down the hall toward the kitchen. I hear her banging pots and pans around, but I follow her advice and stop planning and start doing.