The Collection (3 page)

Chapter 5

At any given time multiple countries face civil war. The great nation of America has never been divided.

—
American Gazette

The walk continued. Andrew was happy to have his vision back, but it didn't give him much relief. He and Carter were led into a large building made of clay bricks, which apparently kept the inside cool. A door was pushed open, and Andrew and Carter were thrown against a wall. Their handcuffs were undone.

“Strip,” a voice said.

Neither Andrew nor Carter moved.

“Fine, have it your way.”

Then a blast of icy water came at them. It was powerful and almost knocked Andrew over. He turned around, trying to make his back take most of the force. The temperature started to change and it didn't feel so bad anymore. Then the spray was shut off. Two of the men who had escorted them had buckets now. They flung the contents onto Andrew and Carter. Andrew tried to wipe his eyes; it was soap.

Without the handcuffs Andrew looked for the door. Before he could take a step the blast of the hose came back home, washing away the soapy residue. Andrew had to gasp for breath as the water fired toward his face.

“We're giving you some trust here,” the man with the hose yelled. “If you break it the cuffs go back on.”

The water was shut off again. A towel was thrown at Andrew. He took off his soaking-wet shirt and sweatpants and patted himself dry. Once he was dry enough a new outfit was tossed toward him. He pulled on the white scrubs. He hadn't seen anyone in these since his days in the orphanage.

Andrew had been getting close to thirteen, about to get tossed out into the real world. All the boys in his group were taken to a clinic where men dressed in these outfits gave them their last round of vaccines. The shots were supposed to keep them free of transmittable illness until it was enlistment time. They'd worked too. Andrew wondered now if the doses were no longer effective and he was susceptible to illness again, having missed his enlistment date and the boosters.

“Face the wall,” the man said.

Andrew did as instructed. Carter did the same. When Andrew and Mia had first met Carter he'd been bold and outspoken, but he wasn't in this place. Someone grabbed Andrew's wrist and pulled it behind his back. It wasn't time to make a move yet. The image of those men training outside was too fresh. Even if Andrew did make it out of this room he'd never get past them.

The cuffs clicked back on. Andrew kept his face blank. It was a skill he'd mastered over the years. He glanced toward Carter, whose face was emotionless. Andrew was grateful Carter wasn't speaking out or mentioning Mia, but this behavior was too unsettling.

They were spun back around. Andrew wouldn't break. He didn't want to speak or let these men know what he was thinking.
Show no fear.
Carter didn't look fearless; he looked like a shell. A new man had entered the room. He was pushing a small table with four syringes laid out on it.

“What is that?” Carter asked.

Don't speak,
Andrew said in his head. He didn't know if he was reminding himself or trying to magically communicate with Carter.

“Boosters,” the man said. He was American. “You missed your enlistment date and we can't have the two of you getting sick now. Are either of you injured?”

Andrew kept his eyes glued to the wall. His leg bothered him from the accident. When Grant ran them off the road, Andrew had been flipped from the bed of the truck. His pain was not enough that it needed medical attention, and even if it had needed it, he wasn't about to let this man help him.

“I'll take that as a no,” the man said.

Andrew felt the cotton swab on his arm. He didn't flinch when the needles entered his skin. The doctor did Carter, who was less composed, next. He rolled his arm away.

“Don't touch me,” Carter said.

The empty shell of Carter was getting filled with rage. Andrew wanted to calm him down; this wasn't the time for fighting back. The doctor didn't seem bothered. He reached out and yanked Carter's arm toward him. Andrew expected a blowback, but this time Carter didn't protest. The emptiness returned to his face.

The doctor wheeled his table out. Two men walked over and grabbed Andrew's arms. The remaining two did the same to Carter. They were escorted out of the room and back into the hallway. Andrew was leading the way.

Andrew didn't stop walking or try to fight the men guiding him. He kept his stone face as he heard Carter struggle.

“Stop,” Carter said. “You can't do this to us.”

Carter's protests faded away. They were getting split up now. Andrew never looked back. He felt bad for Carter; he had a father who had trained him to act proud and strong. Carter never learned the lesson about getting in line and shutting up. Andrew knew they could make it out of here, but they needed a plan first. Screaming and fighting at this stage would only make it worse.

The escorts stopped moving and unlocked a heavy wooden door. It led into a small room. The floor was made of dirt. There was a table and two chairs. The men walked Andrew to the table and unlocked his cuffs. Andrew didn't turn around when they closed the door. He heard the lock snap into place.

Andrew rubbed his wrists where the handcuffs had been. He did a quick inventory of the room. The chairs and table were metal and none budged when he tried to move them. Andrew didn't understand how they were stuck to the ground. That was it.

There were no windows in the clay room. A single light hung from the ceiling; it was too high up to reach, even when Andrew stood on the table.

Andrew tried to keep calm and focused. He thought over the path here. They were driving fast, over sixty miles per hour, but the ride couldn't have been longer than ten minutes. Mia wasn't that far away. She was resourceful. Andrew was certain she'd made her way off the rocky beach before the tide came in. He wouldn't allow himself to think otherwise. Then she would have stayed close to that spot, knowing he'd come back for her. It would take a day or two, tops, for him to get out of this place. The best way to accomplish that was to not draw attention. Remain quiet, take in the surroundings, and form an escape plan.

He was trying hard to reassure himself, but guilt kept peeking through. He had led Mia out of America and into danger, then abandoned her on a beach. Andrew felt his heart rate increase and tried to calm himself down. She was fine. She would be fine. He told this to himself over and over, hoping he could convince himself it was true.

 

A
ndrew's thoughts were getting to be too much. He had no clue how long he'd been in the room. He was guessing at least three hours. He was growing restless. They didn't pay any attention to him. They were letting him sit here alone in a cell. Were they trying to break him? This was slow torture.

“Hello?” Andrew called out.

He felt stupid for trying to reach out. As time wore on only one thing remained true: Andrew was certain he had made the right choice leaving Mia on the beach—at least he kept telling himself that.

Chapter 6

I don't support the Registry, but if the American armed services hadn't stepped in, the state of West Austrachek might not exist.

—Comment from the
Global Reporter
message board

There was only one window in the tiny shack, but the sun shone brightly through. Mia sat up on the cot and her eyes danced across the space. Riley was gone. Mia didn't remember falling asleep. Panic replaced any peace the night's sleep had brought. She remembered Riley's threat. If Mia left, when she got back Riley would be gone. Instead she had tricked Mia into staying and then abandoned her in the morning.

Andrew and Carter. The thought of them brought a sick feeling to Mia's stomach. Riley had said they were safe and that she knew their location. That was a lie too, and Mia had fallen for it. She stood up; ignoring the aching in her bones, she went toward the door. Before she reached the knob, it swung open.

“Oh, you're up,” Riley said. “I was about to wake you.”

“You left me,” Mia said.

“Relax.” Riley put her hands on Mia's shoulders. “There's not exactly indoor plumbing here. You have to do your business outside.”

“Ick,” Mia said.

“What? You're that prissy?”

“My friends.” Mia was eager to change the subject. “You said in the morning you'd help me find them.”

“You don't need to find them,” Riley said. “You need a way to get them back.”

Riley walked past Mia and went to the makeshift desk in the corner. She reached under the rickety table and pulled out a black bag.

“Tell me where they are,” Mia said.

“Don't get so worked up,” Riley said. “You're alive and they're alive. Hold on to that thought.”

“Are you playing some sort of game with me?” Mia asked. “I told you my story last night. You promised you'd help me.”

“You fell asleep before I could tell you mine,” Riley said. “You're a very bright girl, but you have a lot to learn.”

“You can teach me whatever you want, as soon as I get Andrew and Carter back.”

“You're reckless,” Riley said. “I tell you where they are, you'll run over there and get yourself killed or worse. I can't have that blood on my hands.”

“So you lied? You won't help me?”

“Lesson number one: learn to listen,” Riley said. “I'll help you. But you want quick answers with even faster solutions. Life doesn't work that way.”

Riley left the bag on the table. She stood up and walked toward the door.

“Come outside,” she said. “I'll give you the grand tour.”

Mia rolled her eyes and tried to rein in her frustration. Carter and Andrew needed her and she was no good to them cooped up in some shanty. She needed Riley to find them. Playing along was her best option. She walked outside.

Mia didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. The shack looked like it was falling apart on the outside. A gust of wind could have blown it over. Mia thought they'd be in the desert or close to the sea, but neither seemed true. It was hot and humid outside. The hut was surrounded by trees blocking the sun. Mia looked up and saw a mirror outside the window, guiding the sunlight in. The grass was long and thick, filled with the humming of insects. Mia wished she had some shoes.

Riley walked through a patch of trees and Mia saw some water. It was a small pond.

“This is where we clean ourselves and get our water supply,” Riley said. “Don't do your business near it, please.”

“You drink the water you bathe in?” Mia asked.

“I purify it first,” Riley said. “I have a small kit.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Thirty-six days,” Riley said.

“Why do you live here?”

“Now you want my story?”

“I always wanted it,” Mia said.

“Well, clean up a little,” Riley said. “Meet me back inside and I'll get our breakfast ready. Then you can sit and listen.”

Riley smacked her hands together and left Mia by the pond. She let out a sigh and headed to the pond, ready to splash some water on her face and take in whatever story Riley was about to tell.

 

W
hen Mia went back into the shack, Riley was at the table with a laptop flipped open. The screen was black and all Riley's typing was in green.

“How are you doing that?” Mia asked.

“Using a computer?”

“There's no electricity here,” Mia said.

“Why would I need electricity?”

“Won't it die?”

“Ah, the American technology ban,” Riley said. “Things in the rest of the world have changed a bit. Strangely, most of our inventions come from you guys.”

“Huh?” Mia asked.

“Americans crave inventions,” Riley said. “But they don't let their own people use them, just the military. Then they sell them off to the rest of the world.”

“Why and how?”

Riley let out a groan. “One question at a time,” she said.

Mia crossed her arms and Riley acquiesced.

“I don't know why,” Riley said. “I've heard rumors it's to keep the people under stricter control. As far as how—again, this is a rumor—certain boys show talents at a young age and those are honed. They spend their whole lives inventing things.”

“It doesn't bother them that they can't use what they invent?”

“I assume they can,” Riley said. “But again, this is all a presumption. America keeps its doors sealed tight. A lot of the world doesn't know much about them.”

Mia was still interested in how the computer was running. She pointed to the machine. “You didn't answer my first question.”

“Updated. There's a battery in here.”

“How do you charge it though?”

“It will die, but it's guaranteed for two years,” Riley said.

“What?” Mia was confused. “How?”

“I'm not a computer expert,” Riley said. “But with the first laptop, the battery lasted an hour; then someone said, ‘I'll make it last longer,' so the new battery lasted eight hours; then another person came on and said, ‘Longer battery life, please,' and the twelve-hour battery came. This went on for many years and now we have the two-year battery. It's like your cellular phones.”

“Phones have batteries?” Mia said.

She had never given a second thought to the fact that the phones didn't shut off. Mia had never had access to one without her father's supervision and never questioned what made the things work. She was feeling a bit out of sorts about all the things she didn't know. Riley knew more than Andrew, Carter, or Rod though. Mia wanted to take it all in. Riley finished whatever she was doing and shut the lid to her computer. Then she turned her chair around and faced Mia.

“Did you build this place?” Mia asked.

“No,” Riley said. “I found it and fixed it up.”

“What would you have done if it wasn't here?”

“I have netting in my bag,” Riley said. “I would have slept outside.”

“For thirty-six days?”

“I've done it for longer.”

“When?”

“How about you stop asking questions and listen for a little bit,” Riley said.

Mia frowned and her cheeks grew warm.

“My name is Riley Hart and I'm from Ireland. I am an agent for the Irish people. Do you know what that is?”

The only agents Mia knew of were RAGs. She assumed Riley wasn't looking for runaway girls. Mia shook her head. She didn't even know where Ireland was.

“If the Irish government has a problem they come to me and I tell them the best way to fix it,” Riley said. “I don't fix it myself. Instead I send other people in to fix the problem. I just tell them how to proceed.”

Riley worked for the government. Now it made sense that she didn't have a husband. She must have been government property. Mia started to wonder if she'd escaped as well.

“I can read you,” Riley said. “Your head is already off in the clouds. You're not focusing on what I'm saying. You're forming your own conclusions already. Don't.”

Mia nodded and refocused on Riley.

“The people who carry out my plans, they're the intelligence agents. They work for me,” Riley said. “I was foolish enough to fall in love with one of them. His name is Nathan Hart. He is my husband. He went missing during a mission five months and nine days ago. The mission failed due to less-than-perfect planning on my part. So I entered the field to track him.”

Mia was forcing her lips shut.

“Do you see the difference between my story and yours?” Riley asked.

That was the whole story? Mia had so many questions.

“You went on and on for nearly two hours, giving unnecessary detail. I told my whole story in under a minute. Be concise whenever possible.”

Mia nodded her head.

“Oh dear, you are about to burst. Ask your questions.”

“You were a man's boss?”

Riley let out a laugh. “I am many men's boss.”

“You're married to someone you love? And you're trying to save him?”

“I picked him out myself,” Riley said.

Mia went a little cross-eyed.

“I forget, I can't joke about that stuff with you,” Riley said. “There's no reverse Registry. We chose each other.”

“Good,” Mia said. She was looking for equality, not domination by women. “What happened to your husband?” she asked.

“That is not something you need to know,” Riley said. “I got a tip he might be here and I'm scoping it out.”

“What is . . . here?” Mia asked.

“That's not part of my story, dear,” Riley said. “Keep focused on this conversation and remember your other questions for later. It's the best way to get information. Don't flip back and forth between topics.”

The next question Mia asked was important. She wanted more information but needed an eloquent way to phrase it. If Mia asked where Ireland was, Riley would answer, but that wouldn't help Mia's current situation. There was so much she wanted to know, but her first priority remained Andrew and Carter.

“How do I fit in your story?”

“Now, that is a good question,” Riley said. “I saw your small hand, thought you were a girl or a child. At first I thought it might be a trap, but my basic human decency required me to help you. Once you passed out on the sand I couldn't leave you there. You were pretty banged up and I figured you were the one who fell from the sky. Since I was taking your supplies I thought I owed you. Then once you talked about your friends' abduction I thought our goals might be the same.”

“Your husband's in the same spot as Carter and Andrew?”

“I'm not sure,” Riley said. “But if he's in this country that's where I'll find him.”

“Why didn't the men who kidnapped the boys take the guns and helicopter stuff?”

“Because those two men are a much bigger prize than what was lying in the grass.”

“Why don't you rescue him?”

“Nathan,” Riley said. “You can say his name. And I'm not certain he's here. I've been trying to find that out for thirty-six days, but nothing has told me otherwise.”

“I'm not waiting that long to get my friends back,” Mia said.

“I wouldn't expect you to,” Riley said.

She stood up, went to her desk, and brought back a small box. She flipped the lid open and it turned into a board covered with different-colored squares. Inside were many different pieces. Riley set them up along the squares.

“I'm going to teach you a game,” Riley said.

“I don't want to play games,” Mia said. “I want my friends back.”

“Before you act you need confirmation that's where they're at,” Riley said. “You won't get it right away. Even then, what will you do?”

“Whatever you tell me,” Mia said. “You're the strategist.”

“And when I'm gone and the next problem comes along—there are always more problems when you're on the run—what will you do then? Run into another strange Irish lady and let her do your dirty work?”

“You're just trying to stall until you find out about your husband,” Mia said.

“Maybe that's part of it,” Riley said. “But you're a smart girl, you've been through worse than most, and you can think on your feet. Listen to your gut; does it say I'm trying to help you?”

Riley continued setting up the board. She didn't acknowledge Mia's unresponsiveness. Mia wanted to learn from Riley. A piece of her felt guilty because she was after more knowledge than the necessities involving rescuing Carter and Andrew.

“You promise me they're not dying?”

“Quite the opposite,” Riley said. “They're safer than you or me right now. This piece is called the pawn . . .”

Riley went on explaining the game and Mia hung on her every word. No thoughts or worries filled her mind. She was focused on learning the rules.