Possession (13 page)

The thought of living in Seaside—with Blaze—has me giddy. I try to straighten my smile and find I can’t. Pace has accepted his position in the tech rangers and feeds me regular reports. Blaze is safe in Seaside, almost a full-blown Thinker. His information will be invaluable. And my friends in the Badlands . . .

I sigh. “I can’t. With Pace gone, I’m leading the Resistance now.”

Blaze drops his hand and pivots to face Pace. “What? He’s twelve years old.”

“Thirteen,” I say.

“He can’t lead the Resistance.” Blaze folds his arms, his voice firm and parental.

I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, that I can do whatever I want, when Pace says, “He’s been doing fine for the past eight months.”

“Yeah,” I say.

Blaze faces me and squints, like he’s trying to see through me. “You’ll die if you don’t get out of that place.”

“He’s already established a spy in the Goodgrounds,” Pace says. “The other members aren’t much older than him, Blaze. Let this go.”

Blaze’s fists clench. He’s about to go all older brother on me. “Like Pace said, I’ve got contacts in the Goodgrounds no one else would’ve been able to get.
Because
of my age.”

The fight leaves Blaze’s eyes. He puts one hand on my shoulder. “You’re thirteen.” He means more than that. He means he misses me and wants to protect me. He means he’s sorry for abandoning me after Mom and Dad died. He means he wishes it didn’t have to be this way.

I put my hand on his shoulder. “I know.”

Blaze studies the floor and then focuses on me. “Who’s the spy?”

I grin. “Cool cat by the name of Zenn Bower.”

“No!”

*   *   *

Blaze’s shout didn’t wake me. Mine did.

Meager light filtered into the tree house. My heart pounded in my chest, my ears, my mouth.

I couldn’t get Zenn’s name out of my head. Or Jag’s voice saying it.

Or the words “the Resistance.” Zenn never mentioned anything about any Resistance. And I didn’t think we kept secrets from each other.

But I couldn’t e-comm Zenn—and asking Jag? No way. I was determined to keep my jaunts into his private memories filed away in the corner of my mind labeled
Classified
.

A shiver shook my shoulders, as much from the cold as from the lingering weirdness of entering Jag’s mind. I rubbed my hands over my arms, trying to warm up.

I jumped when Jag rolled in his sleep, muttering. Grateful I wasn’t living his nightmare anymore, I tucked the blanket around his shoulders.

After he settled back to sleep, I couldn’t get a breath that wasn’t full of his scent, of Zenn’s name coming out of his mouth. I had to get out of there, so I climbed down from the tree house. I stretched, yawned—and felt the tech buzz. My mouth watered, like I’d eaten something sour. This was a new tech side effect. And the cause came from more than just a cell phone.

I rubbed my hands over my arms, trying to decide what to do. Going toward the tech-buzz seemed suicidal. But
retreating to the tree house where I’d be susceptible to Jag’s innermost thoughts wasn’t an option either.
Choices, choices,
I thought. I was so sick of making choices.

I crept toward the tech, keeping close to the trunks of the trees. Daylight filtered through the forest, and I could smell the pitch from the trees, hear the scuttling of insects in the leaves, and see the dust hanging in the sunlight. My skin crawled with anticipation.

When I finally peered around the last tree, my breath caught in my throat. The sun was just rising over the mountains. It would hit the valley last. Where the facility stood.

The tech facility.

My mind raced. What if my dad was down there? He surely knew of this place if he’d come here for a piece of tech. The structure looked at least seven years old.

Only one road led to the building. One way in = one way out = easier to guard. A tall fence surrounded the property, with towers in each corner. Badlands or not, a facility like this would have guards equipped with the latest weapon-tech and dressed in various shades of beige. Heat-sensing optical-alterations would be mandatory, as would the willingness to tase before asking questions.

Without realizing it, I’d stepped out into the open, staring,
shocked. Until I heard a voice, coming from further down the tree line.

“. . . still here, Elli. Where else would they go?”

“Cam, look. We searched all night. We can scan for them inside.”

I scooted behind the tree real fast when I recognized them as Baldie and the Hawk.

“We won’t be able to,” Baldie snapped. “Jag didn’t get tagged, and Vi’s isn’t activated yet.”

I rubbed my
inactive
tag, wondering what that meant. The alarm at the border had gone off, I assumed because of the tag. But if it wasn’t activated, what would’ve triggered the alarm?

“Whose job was that?” the Hawk asked, adding her question to mine.

“Thane wanted to do it. We didn’t know she could get out.”

The Hawk tossed her silver hair over her shoulder and stopped walking. “Everyone should’ve known about her. She broke the tech in the bathroom. Advanced tech. And she
broke
it with water. Her file from the Association is very specific. How could Thane, of all people, underestimate her?”

I leaned into the tree further, ignoring the bite of the bark
against my palms. I’d always known Thane was the one in charge. Why did he want to personally do everything? Surely he had minions for that. Yeah, he had a specific purpose for me, and I wondered what juicy tidbits I’d find in my file. I didn’t even know I had one at the Association, which surely wasn’t a good thing.

Doesn’t plug into the transmissions. Cuts and dyes her hair. Can feel tech. But her match—

With the thought of Zenn, I wished he was here so I could ask him about the Resistance, about Thane, about everything. He always had the right answers.

Maybe Thane needed me to get to Zenn. Maybe Thane needed me to get to Jag, to the Resistance.

Maybe his purpose for me isn’t bad.
I couldn’t believe I’d thought that all by myself, but there was no voice, no Thinker, in my head. Maybe my tag hadn’t been activated on purpose so that I could escape easier.

With all my inner musings, I didn’t realize how close the Hawk and Baldie had moved, until I heard, “We must take our time, get them to trust us—” Baldie cut off and looked over his shoulder.

I slinked further around the tree so they wouldn’t see me. Baldie pushed the Hawk into the trees as another voice registered in my ears.

Jag. Calling my name.

Stupid boy. Moving through the forest was not a silent business. I couldn’t run for it, meet Jag, and tell him to shut up already. The Hawk and Baldie hid only one tree over. I wished on a star, even though there weren’t any out.
I wish they would leave. Please let them leave.

“Come on,” Baldie said. “Now’s not the time.” He and the Hawk ran toward the edge of the hill and disappeared over the ridge.

I thrashed through the undergrowth toward the sound of Jag’s voice. “Hey!” I hissed, coming up behind him.

“There you are.” His eyes harbored panic. “Don’t leave like that.” He pulled me close, rubbing my back. “Well, I mean, just let me know where you’re going.”

I pushed away from him to study his face. The fear melted away. He slid his hands under my long sleeves and rested his forehead against mine.

“Come on, we gotta go. I’ve got some things to tell you.” I clamped my hand on his and we walked back to the tree house. I spotted a small sack of nuts lying on the floor and my stomach rumbled. “Man, I’m hungry.”

He handed me the nuts and I tried not to inhale them. Yeah, that didn’t work. But Jag had seen me hungry before and never said anything about my disgusting eating habits.

I told him about Baldie and the Hawk and the facility. For once in his life, he didn’t shrug. Instead he looked like I’d hit him with the latest stunning-tech.

“Pace might be there,” he said, getting up and wiping his hands on his low-riding jeans. “He’s a tech ranger. Show me.”

“Wait, there’s more.” I held out my wrist and took a deep breath. “I got tagged.”

Jag stared at my wrist, and he didn’t breathe for a full minute. Fear shone in his eyes, then anger, then something else. Maybe regret? I hoped it was
for
me and not
because
of me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He ran his fingers over my wrist until he felt the tiny bump. He massaged it, as if that would somehow take it out.

I had to admit it. “I was scared.”

He smiled sadly. “You’re wrong,” he whispered, still looking at my wrist. “I wouldn’t have left. Not because of this.”

“I would have. Anyway, I overheard Baldie talking, and he said it hasn’t been activated yet. They’ll have to scan it with a special coding device before it’ll work. So it’s like it’s not even there.”

“Nice.” His fingers circled my wrist in slow motion. “What else did they say?”

“They said everyone should have known I could break those cuffs. They mentioned Thane.” I let the name hang
there, an open invitation for Jag to finally tell me the truth.

But he didn’t. Instead, he asked, “How do you know so much about tech?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, you know they’ll need a special device to activate your tag. How?”

I swallowed hard. “My dad invented pretty much everything They use in the Goodgrounds.” Basically, I was saying that my dad was responsible for killing Jag’s parents, raiding the Badlands, and everything else I hated about advanced technology.

“My brother Pace does the same thing,” Jag said, and it sounded very much like a confession. He strung his fingers through mine. “Funny that you can break tech, right? I mean, your dad makes it, you break it.”

I didn’t know what to say, and Jag’s voice had taken on that haunted quality again, the same one I’d heard back in the Fire Region when he told me about how his parents died. I felt like he was teetering on the verge of telling me about his Resistance, and I leaned forward.

“I mean, who can break tech?” he continued. “It’s wicked amazing. And I bet you used your gifts to get across the border too. I came back . . . I felt so bad . . . anyway. You know your abilities, so—”

“Actually, I don’t,” I said, disappointed that he hadn’t spilled any secrets. “I don’t have any abilities.” To cross the border, I’d fallen down a rocky hill and clawed my way up the other side. No special talents there.

“Sure you do. You can feel tech, for one. I’m sure you have others. I can sense them in you.”

“I don’t know what they are,” I said, wondering if those same things Jag could sense were written in my file. Was feeling and breaking tech a good enough reason for Thane to chase me to the ends of the earth?

“Pace has been gone for four years,” Jag said, the sound barely carrying across the small space between us. His breath shuddered through his chest. “I miss him.”

I understood his emotions for his brother. Because I felt the exact same way about Ty. It’s crushing, desperate, unwelcome—the loneliness that comes from losing a sibling. And even though Jag hadn’t said so, I knew he’d lost two brothers.

“He’s gone, and I’m all alone,” Jag whispered as tears coated his cheeks.

Everything was screwed up. If my dad were here, he could fix it. Dad knew how to turn regret into something positive. He was smart, inventive, able to reason through problems like no one else. I ached for his advice, the same way Jag ached for his parents, for Pace.

When Jag’s sobs subsided, he turned away from me and folded the blanket.

This silence sucked. “So, what now?”

“I’m tired,” Jag said.

“And I’m still starving.”

He rummaged in the pack and tossed me a black-wrapped bar. A TravelTreat—a really old one. Before peeling back the wrapper, I wondered when he’d last replenished his hideout
food supply. As soon as I bit into fruit and nut bar (disgusting), I knew it had been a very long time. But it tasted better than emptiness. Jag lay down while I crunched my way through the bar. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to go anywhere.

But I was. “We’re getting the hell out of here. I’m not living in the forest in a microscopic tree house.”

Jag smiled, but it didn’t carry its usual winning quality. “It’s better than prison.”

I snorted. “Marginally.”

Jag closed his eyes.

A lurch of panic hit my stomach. Was he seriously taking a nap? “We’re not safe here.”

“Probably not.”

“And that’s okay with you?” Where was the leader of the Resistance? I couldn’t make the Dream Jag who’d seemed so in charge mesh with this Melancholy Jag in front of me.

He opened his eyes. They had a spark back. Finally. “Of course not. What do you suggest?”

“Anything! Anything would be better than sitting here in the forest waiting to be caught.”

“You said that tag wasn’t activated.”

“That’s what Baldie said. But I don’t trust him, just like I don’t trust anyone.”

Jag’s mouth twitched with a tiny smile. “Not even me?”

I hesitated. Did I trust him? Could I? Jag opened his mouth, but I spoke first. “I trust you.”

“Took you long enough.”

“Sometimes you’re an—”

“We can control people,” Jag interrupted before I could get the insult out. “Whole cities of people. So yeah, we’re not safe. We’re wanted now—by Thane and his Association of Directors.”

I could control other people? I tried to work up enough saliva to swallow. I put my hand on my face, and it felt too hot. I sputtered when I realized I hadn’t been breathing.

Jag put his hand on my back. “You okay?”

Unable to speak, I nodded. The TravelTreat waged war with my insides. I didn’t want to run a city. I didn’t want to be in control of anyone.

“It’s duty or death,” Jag said, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Controlling people, I mean. That’s the world we live in. Duty or death.”

“So . . . you’re saying they want us dead or on their side.”

Jag shrugged, which I interpreted as a yes. He was right—both of those weren’t stellar options. No wonder Thane kept whispering in my head. At least I knew he didn’t want to kill me.