Surrender (23 page)

I regard him for a moment before waving away the others.

Zenn still has the softness to his face, though exhaustion has already carved lines around his eyes.

“Lay it out for me, Zenn,” I say, steepling my fingers under my chin.

Zenn stands straight and glares at me from across my desk. I’ll say one thing about him: he’s got guts. “There are more important things in my life right now.”

“That’s it? That’s your answer?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re telling me there’re more important things in
your
life. More important than the work
we’re
doing. More important than being
controlled
.” I don’t try to keep the malice out of my voice.

Zenn looks down. “Yes.”

My jaw tightens. Inside, fury mixes with unrest. Okay, and a little fear. “Look, Zenn, you’re the only Goodie I’ve got on the inside. You’ve done more for the Resistance in two years than anyone. I need to know you’re with me. One hundred percent. All the way.”

Zenn looks up, a fire burning in his eyes. I’ve seen it before. His mind is made up. “For now,” he says.

I tilt my head, trying to hear the true meaning behind the words. Long after he’s ushered out, I’m still thinking about it.

I have this sinking feeling Zenn’s not with me anymore. He’s gone Informant.

I can’t trust him.

Problem: He already knows too much.

*   *   *

I sat up, my mind swirling with what Zenn knew about me. He knew pretty much everything. The dank air in the cave felt too thick to breathe. My chest constricted with the effort it took to inhale.

Next to me, Jag bolted upright. His eyes widened, staring right into mine. “What’s wrong?”

I forced myself to exhale. “Nothing.”

He studied me, much the same way I imagined he eyed Zenn. “Your emotions are all over the place. They woke me up.”

“Bad dreams,” I said. Hey, it wasn’t entirely a lie. I let him take me in his arms. Let him stroke my hair. Let him whisper comforting words.

I closed my eyes and waited until he fell back to sleep. Then I got up and sat against the wall, the rocky ground grinding into my tailbone.

If I didn’t fall asleep, I couldn’t enter his mind again.

“You should take that shirt off,” Jag said. “Let your arms get some air.”

I knelt next to the river where he had finished filling our water bottles. The water looked like liquid ice, but I stuck my arms in all the way to the shoulder. The shirt billowed off
the sticky ointment. Every time I removed my arms from the water, the fabric clung again.

“Can you help me?” I called over my shoulder.

Jag took the hem of the shirt and lifted, pulling it over my head before trying to peel it off my arms. The cold water and slight breeze soothed my burned flesh. I adjusted my T-shirt so it covered my stomach.

“Nice,” he said, his eyes locked on my body. He tossed the wet shirt to the side and kissed me with a passion I now recognized as the hormonal-Jag style of kissing.

“Stop it. You’re bad.”

“For the love of all that’s bad, you’re beautiful.” He planted a kiss just under my jaw. Then a little farther down on my neck. Good alarms sounded in my head. The rush from Jag’s lips almost drowned them out.

Almost.

“Jag, I—”

“It’s fine, babe. We’re only kissing. It’s fine.”

And everything was fine. Kissing him was more than fine. Life was absolutely fine. Everything would always be blissfully fine . . .

The knowledge that he’d used his voice slammed into me like a heavy weight. I tried to sit up and pull my T-shirt down
at the same time. “You’re controlling me. It’s not fine.”

“Violet,” he said, his eyes locked on mine now. “Vi, baby.” His voice was soft, but not controlling. “I did promise, sorry.”

“I don’t want, well—” I clamped my mouth shut before I said anything too embarrassing.

He stood up and retrieved a new T-shirt. “Here. That shirt should be burned,” he said, glancing pointedly at the one I had on. “I’ll wait for you in the canyon.”

I nodded, unable to speak. I checked to make sure he was really gone and then I changed. The cool air felt good on my arms, but nothing compared to how Jag’s mouth had felt on my neck or my ear or my lips—

Jag laughed from wherever he waited.
Stupid mind-reading hormone-driven boy.
I hoped he heard that. I didn’t care what he said—he could read a lot more than feelings.

He wore a clean shirt when I reached him. He chuckled again and slid his arm around my waist. “You ready? We have like, two weeks of walking ahead of us.”

“I hate that you can feel what I feel,” I complained. “Really, really hate it.”

“I can stop. If you want.”

“Yes, please.” But I could tell he didn’t want to.

His face fell and he started to remove his arm.

“No. No, it’s okay,” I said, taking his hand and replacing it on my hip. “It’s fine, babe. Fine.”

“You almost sounded like me right then!” He laughed, a clear sound that carried through the twilight.

I punched him and his laughter ended in an “Oof!”

“Don’t control me again.”

A little while later, Jag stopped walking and studied the starry sky. “We’re adults now. Officially.”

“Great,” I said. Like it really mattered. So now I could get a job. Big deal.

“There are stricter punishments for adults,” Jag said.

That brought a hollow feeling to my stomach. He took my hand and pulled me forward again. The silence rained down while I imagined what the Association might do to me now that I was of age.

I stopped walking. “Jag, what’s going to happen when we get to Seaside?”

The moonlight emphasized the tension in his mouth. “Well, there’s some protection with Gavin. But I don’t know what Thane, uh, your dad, will do. The Association has pull everywhere, even if it’s less in the oceanic region. And they want us.” He moved forward again, but I stayed put.

“Do you know Gavin?”

“Course, she’s Pace’s girlfriend.”

“What can she offer me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Liar. You never tell me anything.”

“No, seriously. Every case is different.” Jag threaded his fingers through mine. “Besides, you never told me why you went to see Pace or how you took out ten Greenies by yourself. You have secrets of your own.”

“They’re not secrets,” I argued, striding forward. “You never asked. You’re too busy being pissed off—or kissing me.”

“Which would you like right now? ’Cause I could go either way.” Danger lurked in his voice.

I stopped suddenly and grabbed his arm. I kissed him in the hormonal-Vi style. When he pulled away, I said, “I’ll tell you if you promise not to get so pissy about things.”

“That’s a two-way street, Vi.”

I kissed him again, tracing my fingers along his neck and into his hair. “Is it?”

“No,” he breathed. “No, it’s not.” We kissed some more, his hands tightening along my waist.

“So you’ll be nicer?” I whispered.

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Good.” I pulled away and strung my fingers through his. We walked for a few minutes before he spoke.

“You’re really not fair,” he said, his voice wounded. “If I
can’t control you, you shouldn’t be able to control me.”

I giggled. Yes, giggled. “I didn’t use my mind power on you. Just my body.”

“That’s twice as deadly.”

As we walked, I told Jag about the message from Zenn’s kiss, and he got all mad, like I’d known he would.

“You already promised.”

“Kiss me again so I can remember.”

“Nice try.”

“Fine. Then I’m still mad.”

“Listen, Jag. It’s not like I cheated on you or anything. I don’t understand why you’re so jealous of him.”

He looked at me, his gaze heavier than the darkness. “Vi, I can still feel your feelings for him. You’ve loved him for a long time. That doesn’t disappear overnight. Even though he gave you that sticker, you’d go back right now and save him if you could.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off. “Don’t. I can
feel
it. He’s being controlled in the worst way and you want to help him. Because he’s exactly like you. He stopped listening to the transmissions a long time ago too. He shielded you from some of the hardest things and comforted you during the worst times of your life. Those memories will
never
go
away. You’ve loved him for five years, but you’ve only known me for like, a week.”

I couldn’t argue. Zenn had been my whole life. In many ways, he still was.

“More than a week,” I said, just to be difficult.

Jag’s grip on my hand tightened. “Fine. Two weeks.”

I told him about sneaking into the lab after the e-comm from Baldie. Then I told him about dodging through the trees and as much of the Greenie’s conversation as I could remember. I ended with how I controlled the five men so they would tase the women.

“Wow,” he said.

“Yeah, men are pretty easy to control.”

He slugged me in the shoulder. Like with his fist and everything. I hit him right back. Somehow we ended up holding hands afterward. Go figure.

“So Pace was beaming in to see you, huh?” I asked, with a heavy dose of
you-better-spill-your-secrets-too
thrown in.

“A couple of times. He had clearance.”

“From who?”

Jag shrugged with one shoulder. “That bald guy, I think.”

“That guy helped me get into the lab too. He said he was on my side. Do you think—well, how could he be helping
us?” I watched Jag’s face, but he kept his gaze on the horizon.

“Everyone has spies, babe.”

“What does that mean?”

“Sometimes those who appear good are just pretending. I mean, look at you.”

I thought about what he said. “My dad wasn’t pretending.”

“No, he was not.” Jag spoke so softly, I barely heard him. After that, we walked in silence, the midnight sky surrounding us in cool air. My sunburned arms convinced me that traveling at night really was best.

We walked so much that when I slept during the day, I dreamt about walking. At least the tech-cube kept producing whatever we wanted to eat, and besides what came from what we carried, the air in the demilitarized zone didn’t hold an ounce of techtricity.

Night after night, we trudged along, Jag regarding the stars while I wrestled with myself over who my dad was, with who I was.

With what my duty was.

Who I should follow.

If I should follow anyone at all. Maybe my brand of control would benefit people more than my dad’s. Powers like mine could be used for good. Curing diseases. Purifying water.

I didn’t want to take away the little things, the traits that made people unique, in order to provide that kind of life.

I’d seen Zenn at the facility. He wasn’t himself. And that wasn’t fair at all. I wondered that maybe if I joined Dad, he’d relax a little bit. Together, we could still work for the common good, but we wouldn’t have to erase personalities to do it.

I’d almost have myself convinced of this golden future with my dad when I’d remember the loathing in his eyes.

Then I’d have to start all over again. I never found any answers, no matter how many different ways I looked at the situation. No matter how many stars I wished on.

“How much further?” I complained again the tenth night.

“Soon, Vi.” Jag laughed and pulled me close. “Patience.”

Yeah, I don’t have much of that.

When the sun came up, my heart rose with it. The ocean loomed in front of me. I’d never seen so much water at once. It called to me, encouraged me to come closer. To touch it as it lapped at the earth. To taste the saltiness of it in my mouth.

A great city at least the size of the Southern Rim sat along the blue expanse.

Suddenly my throat tightened, my heart constricted. A presence—an incredibly strong and all-too-familiar presence—invaded my mind.

Somehow “Dad” escaped my throat.

“Dammit.” Jag pulled me down an embankment to a ditch. “Now what?”

I dropped to the ground next to him, as if I could hide my mind from my dad that way. “He’s here . . . somewhere.” I closed my eyes, trying to find Dad without inserting myself into his head. “Let’s sneak around to the north.”

Using the demilitarized zone was clever, V. Where are you going now?
The way he called me V made my heart twist. How I’d longed to hear that. Now it only sickened me. I quickly forced him from my mind.

Jag gripped my hand, and together we stood. “Let’s go.”

As we ran I struggled to push the fear to the back of my
mind, the same way I kept pushing the sweat off my forehead. It mingled with the dirt, creating mud that stung the corners of my eyes.

Then I couldn’t see at all. “Jag! Tech!” I dropped to my knees, hoping to find cover from the unknown danger in the low bushes.

“Get your phone,” Jag whispered from beside me. His beeped as he activated it, but I fumbled for my pocket, my vision still cloudy.

“Holy overload.” My eyes streamed. My stomach boiled.

“Viii,” he said, drawing out my name dangerously. “Who are they?”

I gave up the search for my phone and focused. “There’re two people. Both men. Rangers. They can sense our tech.”

“Rangers?”

Their minds . . . their minds were clear. Sharp. Uncontrolled. And focused on harnessing the power of the earth. “Definitely rangers.”

Jag didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Then his fingers fumbled over mine and he pulled me to my feet.

“Jag?” The man who spoke had a deep voice. I couldn’t physically see him, but his name floated through my mind:
Mark Kellogg.

Surprise flitted across Mark’s subconscious. He shifted
nervously while the other guy—his younger brother Jake—came up beside him. They both radiated advanced tech energy, and they wanted ours.

“We need to see Gavin.” Jag’s voice sounded odd, too breathy or something. He was afraid, and that terrified me.

“Everything’s gone to hell,” Mark said. “Some heavies arrived from the Association. Gavin is in a special session, and no outsiders are permitted to enter the city.”

His words pierced the balloon of hope I’d been cultivating. “No outsiders?” I whispered.