Underground 4 (3 page)

He’d started a light jog around the track, not looking back to see where Tyler was, so as not to alarm anyone. He’d continued that way on his own, hearing footfalls behind him, but never turning to see who it was. Not until two other fighters started to jog beside one another, speaking to each other, did he sense Tyler approach.

The two of them ran a couple of laps in silence, both their eyes glancing at the guards standing on the side to see how closely they were being watched. It wasn’t long until Trent noticed they were too involved in their own conversation to catch much of what was happening on the track, that he finally looked directly at his friend.

“I can’t say it’s good to see you, but damn, it’s good to see you,” he said.

Tyler smiled. “I know what you mean. Quite the predicament you and the lass got yourselves into,” he said.

Trent grunted. “Says the guy who is now running beside me. Want to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Tyler opened his mouth to respond, when they heard someone else fast approaching, making them both turn forward again.

“Well hey there, boys,” Phoenix said, running up alongside him. She gave Trent a wink, falling in step with them. “Fancy meeting you two here.”

“Keep your voice down,” Trent said, looking back at the guards.

She waved him off. “They’re busy talking about some girl they both laid over there, I wouldn’t be worried about them hearing anything we say here. So, Scotty,” she said, leaning over to look at Tyler, “want to tell me what the hell you’re doing here? And with my sister, no less?”

Trent glanced at his friend, to see his mouth flatten into a thin line.

“We came to get you guys out of here,” he replied. “I should think that was obvious.”

Phoenix snorted in an unladylike way that had Trent fighting back a smile. There were certain things about her that he found adorable, not that he’d ever admit it. The fact that she could still come off as so confident and flippant, considering their current situation, had him feeling strangely proud of her. Again, not that he’d admit it.

“Of course you did. I also was going to get us out of here, by whistling for a couple of flying unicorns to come down and take us away.” She sighed dramatically. “Now there’s too many of us. You’ve gone and ruined my entire plan.”

Trent shook his head, not even looking to see his friend’s reaction.

“Want to explain why you thought bringing my
sister
with you was a smart idea?”

She was pissed. Trent understood where she was coming from, and couldn’t help but wonder that himself. He understood the guys coming to try and get them out, but why bring Missy and Pixie? He looked to Tyler for a response. His friend didn’t look any happier about it than they were.

“She wouldn’t stay. I tried,” was his only explanation.

“Why wouldn’t she stay? That makes no sense,” Phoenix argued.

Tyler was quiet for a moment, seemingly contemplating his answer. With another sigh, he said, “she didn’t want to be separated from me again.” He gave them both a meaningful look and left it at that.

Trent looked over at Phoenix, who almost looked comical with her mouth hanging open in surprise. He reached over with one finger, gently shutting it. “You’ll catch flies like that,” he said, smiling despite himself.

She shooed him away, batting at his hands. To her credit, she let that particular subject drop, accepting that there was obviously something between Tyler and Missy they’d missed while being locked up here. Her eyes scanned the track, and then looked back to Tyler.

“Where is Pixie then? Why bring her?”

“We needed a quick exit plan, and she’s the best one to create one, if you catch my drift,” he answered.

Little Pixie and her explosives, Trent thought. It wasn’t the best plan, but a last ditch effort he supposed if they couldn’t think of anything better. Best case, they could blow out the tunnels behind them, if they could get away and make it to the entrance.

“As to where she is now,” Tyler continued, “I have no idea. I assumed with the rest of you women.”

Phoenix shook her head. “She was never brought to our cells. I figured she would be, but she wasn’t.”

The concern Trent read in her eyes bothered him for some reason – not that there was anything he could do about it. He was sure quiet, little Pixie was perfectly okay in there. She wasn’t Phoenix, who could push even saints to the last of their patience. Her big mouth constantly got her in trouble. His eyes drifted down to the offending, plump lips, his mind going to places he knew it shouldn’t.

Giving his head a good shake, he looked straight again, trying his best to ignore the way her scent reached his nose, enticing him every time he took a deep breath. Oblivious to his inner struggles, the other two continued their conversation without him. Truth be told, he didn’t even hear a word of it as he watched her slender frame in his peripheral vision. There was something so delicate and fragile about Phoenix, and yet she was the strongest woman he’d ever known.

Not that he’d tell her that.

Suddenly she reached out and slapped him, hard, on the arm. He flinched, looking down at her with a frown. “What was that for?” he asked.

“Did you hear what he just said?”

Trent looked between them both, ashamed to admit he hadn’t heard a word. Shaking his head, he looked to Tyler to explain.

“I was telling her about the treatments in the Institute I received,” said Tyler.

“He can throw a man across a room!” Phoenix interjected.

He raised both brows in surprise. “You actually got treatments, and you’re alive to tell the tale?”

A grim look passed over his friend’s face as his mouth flattened into a thin line. “It wasn’t without its price, trust me. It’s been a rough few weeks.”

“OH man,” Phoenix said excitedly, running sideways beside him. “If you two fight, my money is on the Scotsman.”

Trent gave her a narrowed look, then turned away. He’d never lost a fight in his life, and he didn’t plan to now. Although, this did complicate things as far as he could tell. What
would
happen should Bastian put the two of them in the ring together? Or was that the answer? His brain raced, blocking them out again as he went through their options, limited as they were.

“Garrett will take me in to practice tomorrow morning,” he caught Tyler saying. “While we’re there, I’m hoping Missy can take a look around and see if there is any other way out of there, besides the main entrance.”

“You’re letting Missy snoop around on her own?” Phoenix asked, her voice rising.

Both men shushed her, looking over to the guards. They seemed completely unaware of anything other than themselves. Trent turned to give Phoenix a hard look.

“Oh put your daddy eyes away,” she huffed, rolling her own. “I didn’t yell loud enough for anyone to hear.”

“You have no idea what loud is, because everything you do and say is loud to other people. Unless you want them to figure us all out, I’d suggest learning how to be quiet instead.”

She opened her mouth, most likely to curse at him like always, but Tyler cut her off.

“Missy is a lot stronger than you think, Phoenix. She saved me, and I know that she can handle something like this. Don’t underestimate her just because she’s gentler than you.”

Trent snorted at his comparison of the two sisters. Gentler indeed. What he meant to say was Missy wasn’t a hell-raiser like Phoenix, and knew how to blend in. With her spunky attitude and bright red hair, that was impossible for Phoenix.

“Fine,” she conceded, frowning. “But if anything happens to her, I hold you responsible.”

“Nothing will happen to her,” Tyler replied. “I won’t let it.”

CHAPTER THREE

All was not lost.

Douglas Hatcher sat in a chair that had seen better days, in a building that reeked of rat piss and shit. While he lived like a pathetic lower, Ludwig Tennebris sat surrounded by all the comforts of the old world, reigning over his beloved Uppers. Well all that would change soon. The institute was now destroyed by the New World leader, but thankfully they'd managed to save the most promising of their subjects. Well, save one. But there was nothing they could do about that now.

From what his men had just told him, he knew that their plan was still going to fall into fruition. Ludwig’s days were numbered, he just didn’t realize it yet.

“And the soldiers?” he asked his man still standing before him.

“In place,” John replied.

Douglas couldn’t believe how difficult it had been to find New World Order soldiers who were willing to betray their leader. Surprisingly most of Ludwig’s men were loyal to the fault, something Douglas hadn’t expected. But alas, there were always some who could be swayed to another side. Knowing this, he’d had his men do their best to find the ones that could lend their hand to the rebels.

Now it was a matter of waiting – again. Something he seemed to always be doing as of late. At least it couldn’t be said that Douglas Hatcher lacked patience. With everything moving the way he’d hoped, that particular virtue would finally be worth it. The tides were changing, and with it, New Berlin would soon see a new leader.

Stella gazed at her reflection. What she saw there was nothing impressive. Unlike her sister, Mara, she didn’t have the golden hair that their mother did, or the bright blue eyes that all the boys seemed to gravitate toward. No, she had been given plain brown hair that hung in curls that could never be tamed, with hazel eyes that often looked more brown than green.

Where Mara had smooth, clear porcelain skin, hers was bronzed from the sun, with freckles dotting her nose. Unremarkable. That’s what she was. Despite her mother always telling her what a beauty she was, Stella didn’t see it.

Sighing, she pulled at the dress she wore, knowing that no matter what she did it wouldn’t change the girl staring back at her. Turning away, she grabbed her small purse, throwing it across her chest and making her way down to the kitchen. The rest of her family already sat there, eating their meager breakfast of oatmeal and fruits.

She supposed they had it better than most. While she didn’t know much about the lowers in the western and eastern ghettos, as an Upper, she knew they had more than most of the population left in New Berlin. She ought to be thankful for that, and yet her life seemed to be slowly slipping by with nothing exciting ever happening.

“Morning,” her father greeted from behind his paper.

“Morning,” she replied. Sitting down in her usual spot, she picked at the food left for her, already cold from sitting there while she fussed uselessly at herself. Served her right.

“Girls, I want you straight home after school,” their mother said, standing to go to the sink. “The NWO has called a town meeting at the community center tonight, and I want you both there looking your best.”

Their mom was always concerned about their appearances. That was probably why Stella felt the way she did. It never escaped her notice the way she’d introduce Mara with such pride to all, leaving Stella as almost an afterthought. Their mother wanted both of them to marry one of the richer men in the Upper section to secure their futures, but as far as Stella could tell, no one was interested in her.

“What could they possibly want to tell us now?” Mara complained. Heaven forbid she take time out of – whatever it was she did with her time. Stella often wondered if her sister even realized how dismal things had become in New Berlin, the way she pranced around with her group of friends. It was as though they weren’t even conscious of the continuing war happening all around them.

Only a short while ago there had been more bombings in the eastern ghetto. They still had no idea why it happened, or what the consequences had been.

“It is not your place to question them,” their father said, finally lowering his paper. “You are to be where you’re told to be, and that’s that.”

Mara simply nodded. They didn’t argue with their father – ever. Finishing her meal, Stella excused herself to begin walking to school. They only had one bike, and Mara claimed it each morning. This left Stella to walk the long trek by herself, making her need to leave much sooner than her sister.

“Have a good day, dear,” mother called out.

“You too,” she replied with a smile.

“Be safe.”

“I always am.” She grabbed her knapsack and left the building. Their neighbour, Mr. Samson, sat out on his front step like always, watching from his perch with his usual scowl. Stella knew the old man wasn’t nearly has disagreeable as most people thought. She reckoned the man gave off that impression to dissuade people from bothering with him. It only made her want to be nice to him more.

“Good morning, Mr. Samson,” she called out, stopping below him with a smile.

His face instantly changed to a softer expression when his eyes met hers. “Morning, Stella. Sleep well?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied.

“Good, good.”

She looked around, before turning back to him. “Any news from your nephew?”

His face fell as he shook his head. “No, not yet.” It had been a while since Mr. Samson had received a visit from his nephew, and she knew he was worried about him.