The Rift Uprising (9 page)

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Authors: Amy S. Foster

BOOK: The Rift Uprising
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I bite my tongue and count to five in my head. I need him to help me. It's taking a lot of work not to antagonize him. I lean in close so that no one else can overhear. “I don't understand—aren't we both on the same side here? I'm a Citadel, you're a Citadel. I'm not a spy. I don't see what the problem is. In fact, I don't see what the big deal is in general. What is it with the Village that we aren't supposed to see it till we are eighteen?”

“Seriously?” Levi asks through gritted teeth, in a voice just barely above a whisper but stern enough to get my adrenaline going. “It's fucking monsters and demons and crazy shit that we don't even have words for in the English language,
it's so out there. It's also normal people like you and me who will basically be in prison, not because they are criminals, but because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. So yeah, they don't want kids near there.”

“I
am not
a kid.”

Levi lets out a loud, disrespectful laugh. “A kid calls in a marker to go and meet a boy regardless of consequences. Grown-ups don't do shit like that. You're so immature. I can't believe you're a team leader. I wouldn't let you be in charge of a picnic. I wouldn't let you babysit my cousin, and she's ten.”

It hurts, and it hurts more than I thought it would. I couldn't care less if he liked me or not, but to not
respect
me?

“You are so mean, Levi. Honestly, you're the meanest person I know. Why are you acting this way? Why would you even say that? We've fought side by side and I've held my own. I deal with those monsters and demons and whatever all the time! I've saved people and put the safety of my team before my own. You've seen that! So why say such horrible things to me? I am not an adult. You're right. But you're going to sit there like a pompous jerk and tell me grown-ups are smarter? ‘Grown-ups,'” I say, using my hands to make quotation marks, “are the reason you and I will never have a normal life. Adults opened The Rift and they made children police it. Adults are the reason you and Ingrid nearly killed each other.”

Levi gives me a dead-level stare. He shakes his head. “I can't believe you went there.”

“I went there and I'll go further. Either you help me or I tell Flora the real deal about us. I miss your sister. I would love nothing more than to tell her the truth, so please give me a reason to.” The fury is building inside of him, I can see it. Levi clenches his fists and releases them.

“You have no idea” is all he says.

I am breathing hard. I'm angry, ready to fight, and so is he. No one pushes my buttons more than Levi. His tone, his arrogance, the fact that, realistically, he's a better Citadel than me, or at least a more lethal one—it all gets to me. But I need to get to the Village. I slow my heart rate down. I take a deep breath. I have to get him on my side. “You're right. I don't have any real idea about the Village or what you've gone through and that is part of the problem. I'm tired of being in the dark. I'm not scared of them. They
need
us.” I look at him calmly. He really is beautiful but so, so broken. “The question is, why are you so scared? What are they going to do to you? Make you a Citadel?
Again?
” Levi leans back in the booth, eyeing me. I don't know what he could be thinking. Maybe he wants to slam my head into the table. Maybe he wants to kiss me. Maybe he wants to slam my head into the table because he wants to kiss me. I've just told him I was willing to risk God knows what to see a boy, threatened him,
and
emasculated him all at once. Levi hates to lose—I know, because I'm the same way. I also know he is not going to help me and I'm starting to wonder if he's going to say anything else.

“Fine. I'll find a way in without you.” I grab my bag and go to stand up.

“Hey.” Levi kicks my leg gently under the table.

“Don't worry. I won't tell Flora. She doesn't need to know anything. I mean, look what happened when she saw you do a handstand. She invited two thugs up to her bedroom for a drunken threesome. Imagine what she would do if she knew the real truth. Our secret is safe.”

“Ryn, stop,” Levi says firmly, and I turn back in the booth to face him. “I will get you in, okay? Somehow. I've got a shift at the Village coming up this Sunday. What's Prince Charming's name?”

“Ezra Massad,” I answer with relief. I'm in shock. I cannot believe he is going to help me.

“You have to promise me you'll be careful. Don't tell anyone on your team and don't get your hopes up. You can't touch him. You can't even think about it, not for one second. Do you think you can manage that?”

I want to tell him to screw off. Of course I can manage that. I'm not a lunatic. I don't hurt people on purpose. He's the sick fuck who tried to get it on with his girlfriend. I would never be so dumb. I can't exactly say that, though, because although I can be sassy, I'm not rude like he is.

“I won't tell anyone and there will be no touching. Promise.”

Levi lets out a long sigh. He seems resigned. He isn't angry anymore. He looks so different when he's not mad. Younger. Sadder. Once more I think the word
broken
.

“I will come to your house Saturday afternoon with a plan. Around four?” I don't know if he's asking or telling.

“Just text me with the details. You don't need to come over,” I offer.

“Oh, man, you really are a kid.” Levi shakes his head and stands up. Then he leans over to whisper in my ear. I can feel the heat of his breath. His lips are so close I have to close my eyes and dig my nails into my palm.

“You think they don't read our texts?”

CHAPTER 7

The following Sunday I'm waiting high up in a tree canopy. Both my feet are planted on a thick branch and I am braced and ready to jump more than twenty feet to the ground below. This is the first part of Levi's plan. I cannot go through the main entrance of the Village without the proper credentials. So I am here in this tree, and in exactly one minute I will avoid the electrified fence by swinging my body over it and landing in The Menagerie.

The Village is a little over ten miles northeast of Camp Bonneville. I parked my car about six miles away off a graveled utility road and hid it as best I could inside the tree line. I ran to this exact spot, which Levi gave me via a set of coordinates that I have managed to find quite easily thanks to our extensive survival-skills training . . . and Google. I still have no real idea of the scope of this place. The Menagerie would not have
been my first choice, but Levi has assured me that this particular section I'm jumping into has nothing more than a bunch of flightless birds. I imagine they must be something close to chickens or maybe turkeys. I also imagine that my idea of harmless and Levi's idea might not be the same thing.

When the time is exactly right, I jump down into the pen. I pop back up right away. I don't have a gun. I was able to steal my uniform out of my locker room, but I could not gain access to a rifle. There are several coops around the pen, and sure enough, there are birds on the ground. They do look like large chickens, but their feathers are a scarlet red shot through with a few bright yellow plumes. I walk slowly. I don't like the idea of being pecked by them. I don't even want to touch them. I only like birds when they are plucked, gutted, and part of a meal.

I know—not very forgiving. But birds give me the creeps, and that's that
.

The good news is that I won't be staying long, and I soon reach the inner fence. It's electrified, and not as high, maybe ten feet. There is a regular gate that people who work here use to exit, but it requires a swipe card, which I don't have. What I do have are leg muscles that would give the Bionic Woman an inferiority complex.

I crouch down and push up with all my strength to lunge over the fence, using the roof of a coop for extra leverage. I clear the fence, roll, and then jump back onto my feet. Levi has told me to think of The Menagerie as a massive wildlife preserve. It is, after all, where all the animal Immigrants end up. It is many acres deep, and the species that might kill each other are separated by the high-voltage fences. However, the whole thing is accessible via a maintenance path I am currently on. I have only a few minutes now to book it to where
Levi is meeting me at one of the entrances. As I start sprinting, I barely have time to look at the animals around me, but what I do see is extraordinary. Not the species themselves—I have, of course, captured many animals that have come through The Rift, so I'm familiar with many of them—but to see them all now, suddenly laid out before me, is a wonder. It's almost enough for me to lose focus.

Thankfully, ARC has been drilling discipline in me since I was fourteen years old, so I keep to my mission—I have been distracted enough this week. When Levi told me that all of our texts were monitored, it threw me. I couldn't believe it at first, but then the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I cannot really be trusted. Hell, look what I was doing at this moment. No Citadel—not even the most ardent, gung ho, Kool-Aid-gulping Citadel—is honest. We lie to everyone around us out of necessity. So, yeah, not surprised that a group of trained liars would be led by men and women lying to us in turn. I suppose the powers that be need to track what we are saying and to whom. I get it, strategically, but I don't like it. My thoughts aren't even my own anymore, neither are my opinions. Comparatively, in the big scheme of things, this lack of privacy is just a drop in the bucket. But as those drops start to add up, that bucket is getting heavier to lug around by the day.

Maybe that's why I am doing this now. I want to prove I am not wholly owned by them. I can still make a choice or two of my own. I
need
this. Each clandestine step I take into the Village binds together my sense of self. I run faster. I pass a herd of woolly mammoths. I dodge the cameras I know are out there. Levi drew a map of my course, highlighting the cameras with big black
X
s. Past the prehistoric elephants there is a species of ten or twelve animals I don't recognize. They are as tall as
giraffes, with stouter legs, sleek ebony fur, and long horns that remind me of the thin spires on top of a gazelle's head.

More running. I pass something that looks like a bear but with a decidedly feline face. I remember having to capture one of these a few years back—not a fun day.

I have been lucky so far. There aren't any employees out, as a shift is just ending, which is why Levi's timing is perfect. However, I doubt anyone who loves animals would go strictly by the clock, especially when they are animals such as these. I have a basic knowledge of biology, but being here, it strikes me how incredible evolution is. One degree warmer or colder, one less predator, one type of a certain grass can change a species into something unrecognizable.

In order to avoid the dinosaurs, which Levi says I absolutely must, I have to cut across another pen. They have a real-life Jurassic Park at The Menagerie. Dinosaurs are pretty common at The Rift. They come from versions of Earth that are behind our own evolutionary time line, or they come from Earths where there was no meteor, no cataclysmic event that led to their extinction. There must be countless Earths filled with dinosaurs and no people. I am fine with bypassing this section of the preserve. I've seen enough of these things, and some of them, while majestic, are downright terrifying. I leap over another fence, into a large penned meadow, and keep up my steady pace. I stop short at a white horse grazing in the grass.

At first the animal looks normal enough, but when it raises its head I see a horn poking through its forelock.

Yep. It's a unicorn.

It doesn't seem real. I feel like I'm in a scene from a movie, with the unicorn shaking its head and the sun hitting its luminous white hide. I am transfixed. Even I, cynical soldier that I am, cannot help myself.
It's a friggin' unicorn
. I walk slowly
toward the extraordinary creature with my hand held out. There are just a few paces between us, and the unicorn does not move. I take this as an encouraging sign and come up right in front of it. I raise my hand and touch the animal's nose. I stroke its mane, which shimmers with pearlescent ivories, pinks, and muted blues. I touch its horn and trace the horn's ochre rings. I look deep into the creature's eyes, which are as black as a moonless midnight, and see my own face reflected back. It seems to see through me, to know me somehow, and I think I might weep. The unicorn puts its head down onto my shoulder and I put my face into its silken mane. Could this truly be a magical being? In this moment it feels like it must be, because it is clearly comforting me, a Citadel. I personally did not capture this animal, but someone who looked like me did. I feel an overwhelming sense of compassion, not from myself, but emanating from the unicorn, which doesn't make sense. Aren't I the enemy? Isn't this beautiful thing a prisoner now? He or she will never run wild again. I do not deserve its kindness. A hot lick of guilt spreads up my neck, reddening my face.

“She's beautiful, isn't she?”

I tense and turn, slowly. About ten feet away from me is a Sissnovar. I chide myself for being so lost in the moment that someone was able to sneak up on me. I dismiss the thought quickly. There is no time for that. I have to think fast.

“She is, yes,” I say confidently. Sissnovars are a dominant species from a version of Earth that evolved from reptiles instead of apes. This one seems tame, a male, wearing loose pants and a knitted turtleneck sweater. They don't do well in cold climates and I am surprised he is in this Village and not one in the desert or the Everglades. Maybe he was a vet or something on his Earth. The Menagerie here is the biggest in
the world, but he must need layers and layers to stay warm. He is wearing a fisherman's tuque, though I know there is not any hair on his head. He looks like how you would imagine a snake man would look: reptilian skin, small yellow eyes, no nose. Yet he doesn't appear aggressive.

He smiles, revealing a row of small white teeth and two longer incisor fangs. “I get the sense you are not supposed to be here, Citadel.”

“No, I'm not,” I confess. I don't see the point in lying to him. Like everyone else involved in Rift business, he will not know the whole truth. “Got a lunch break and thought I would spend some time out here. It's . . . peaceful.”

“I cannot blame you,” he agrees. “I know this particular species is only a legend on your Earth, which is most understandable. She seems so very
aware,
does she not? For a herd animal?” I wonder what else this Sissnovar knows. Has he caught on to the fact that I don't have a gun?

“Do you look after her?” I ask, walking slowly around the unicorn, toward the fence, which is just a normal paddock. I guess they don't need to electrify this section.

“I do, yes, and a few of the other horses and horse-like animals in The Menagerie.”

“I'm surprised that they didn't assign you to the . . . you know . . .” I nod toward the area where the dinosaurs and the more dangerous animals are.

“The snakes, you mean? You must know, because you are a Citadel and smart enough, that dinosaurs are more closely related to birds than reptiles.”

Whoa . . . he just roasted me.

“I . . . yes, snakes or other reptiles. I apologize if I've offended you. It's just that in my experience, Sissnovars aren't usually, ummm, gentle. Sorry.” Time is ticking. I don't know why I am
talking to this person, but he is fascinating to me. So unlike the half-crazed and sometimes deadly Sissnovars we capture from The Rift.

“We are, actually,” he says with a little laugh. “It's just that, like most animals, humans included, fear often incites violence. The trip through The Rift is terrifying, so I'm not surprised that would be your first impression of us. You must be very new to the Village, though, if you still feel that way about my people.” My heart begins to beat just a fraction faster. He obviously does not recognize me. But if I run away, I will definitely be found out. I must be casual now. And quick.

“I am. Just started, and I must say that your English is very good.” The Sissnovar looks at me oddly and slowly undulates his neck from side to side in a most snakelike manner.

“Of course, Citadel. I wouldn't speak anything else. I felt the rule from ARC was harsh in the beginning, as everyone does who first comes here, but I have been here many years. I have been granted the luxury of perspective. English is a tool that keeps the Village free from violence. Without a unified means to communicate, it would be chaos.”

He sounded more human than I would have thought. There was a purr on the
s
's in his speech, as you would expect from a snake, but he did mostly sound like, well, a man. I had no idea that the species in the Village weren't allowed to speak anything other than English. I had worried about that—running into someone and not being able to communicate. Now I knew that wasn't a problem.

“Besides,” he says, “there is no need to hold on to our culture, since we are not permitted to have children. We get a few from The Rift, but thankfully, they are small in number.”

I had not considered children. Well, I had, but I assumed that a lifetime in the Village meant an actual life. But of
course, that could not happen. How stupid of me. ARC could not house and feed a rapidly growing population. Forced sterilization, though—it seems so harsh, so
Nazi-
like.

Then again, at least they could
have
sex.
I wonder if I would make such a trade-off, then immediately shake that thought away.

I turn to leave. I have to go. “Right, well—”

“Oftentimes,” the man interrupts, “you Citadels are the youngest people here. Whenever I feel sorry for myself I only have to look at one of you to know that The Rift does not discriminate when it comes to doling out suffering.”

I turn to face him abruptly. “What do you mean?” I don't know why I'm asking, because I know exactly what he means.

“Only that you didn't choose this any more than I did and we must take our pleasures where they come, like here in this paddock, with this beautiful creature,” he says, pointing to the unicorn. I want to demand what he knows exactly about the Citadels, and who had told him, but I don't have the time. It makes me uncomfortable, his empathy for me. If he had come at me at The Rift, I would have killed him easily enough. But here he is, a stranger knowing a secret about me that not even my parents know. Yet he is gracious and kind and for all intents and purposes
a prisoner.
A prisoner who feels sorry for his jailers.

How fucked up is that?

“I have to go” was all I could manage to say.

“Of course. My name is Zaka. And we call the unicorn Merle. She seems to like you very much. You should come and visit when you can.” He crosses one clenched fist over his heart and bows twice.

“You don't have to bow to me. I'm not a queen or anything.”

Zaka lets out a little laugh that sounds a bit like a hiss, like
a tire slowly losing pressure. “No. I realize that. It's a form of respectful greeting and leaving in my culture. I hope that's all right? I'm speaking English, of course, but with gestures, the line is less clear.”

Is this a test of some sort? Why shouldn't he be allowed to greet someone respectfully in
any
way? “It's fine. I'm not even supposed to be here, so it's not like I'll make a report or anything, but I think you knew that already.” Zaka gives a slight shrug and smiles. “My name is Ryn. It was nice talking to you.” A lie. It was not nice. It was unsettling and distracting. Obviously, though, the Citadels here have relationships with the Immigrants. I don't understand what the relationships are like, but given Zaka's relaxed posture and gentle disposition, they can't be entirely hostile. I jump the paddock fence and run full-out to where I am supposed to meet Levi. There is a Citadel posted at the large metal gate. Levi knows her and she has agreed to let me out of The Menagerie. When I arrive, she smiles brightly.

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