The Secret (The Scinegue Series Book 1) (3 page)

Billy realized his mistake in an instant. “I guess I can’t assure you it will never happen,” he answered slowly. “But I can assure you I will do everything possible to make sure it doesn’t. I was really swinging the bags that day, never expecting one to be torn. Today I made sure to handle each one as if it could tear open at any second. If I ever come across another torn bag, I will at least minimize the potential mess.”

“The bag was torn?” Mr. Bryant lowered his hands to his desk and leaned toward Billy with a sense of urgency.

Billy sat back, distancing himself from the intensity of Mr. Bryant’s probing stare. “I’m not trying to make excuses, sir. I just think the bag must have already been torn to break open that easy. I know I didn’t drag it across the street, and there wasn’t anything heavy or sharp in it, so I just came to the conclusion it was torn to start with.” Billy gave a shrug, unsure if he had made things better or worse for himself.

Mr. Bryant’s dark eyes narrowed and appeared to gleam as he looked deep into Billy’s, making him even more uncomfortable.

Suddenly his face relaxed, and he settled back into his chair. He steepled his fingers under his chin and continued to study Billy with interest as he spoke slowly, “Yes,
yes
, I can see how that could happen. If the bag was torn, it would be very hard for you to prevent the contents from escaping.”

Billy remained quiet but felt the hairs on his neck rise under Mr. Bryant’s scrutiny.

After a moment, Mr. Bryant broke the silence. “I believe we’ve made your wife wait quite long enough for your return. Sarah, isn’t it? You may leave now,” he dismissed Billy abruptly. “I have some business to tend to.” He looked distracted and started tapping keys on his computer.

Billy stood. “Um, thank you, Eugene. I assure you I will do my best to make sure things run smooth on our route.”

When Mr. Bryant remained focused on his monitor, not acknowledging his words, Billy headed for the door. Just as he reached for the shiny handle, Mr. Bryant spoke without looking up. “William? All of the papers were picked up and disposed of, correct?”

Looking back, Billy saw Mr. Bryant still briskly typing on his computer as if his reply was of limited importance. “Yes, sir. Of course,” Billy answered, just before an image flashed through his mind of the last crumpled paper he’d picked up and shoved in his pocket after the truck drove to the next house.

“Mmm. Very well. Good day.”

“Good day, sir.” Billy hesitated, wondering if he should confess that he had one of the papers. It didn’t take much to convince himself to keep quiet about it. He would just destroy it as soon as he got home, which would be almost as good as never having had it in the first place.

He opened the door to find Blue and Gray standing on either side of it, patiently waiting to escort him from the building. Without a word, they walked him down the same hall, through the coded doors, and past the same receptionist who still did not spare them a glance.

They left Billy at the front door, apparently trusting him to make it to his vehicle without causing any trouble. Although he felt pretty sure they would be watching him through the smoky glass windows until he drove off.

He saw Ben’s old blue truck pulling out of the parking lot just before he reached his own truck. At least he hadn’t disappeared, Billy thought—only partially in jest—wishing he could have caught him before he left.
They would talk tomorrow,
he decided. No matter what Ben thought, they had to talk.

Billy’s thoughts centered on the piece of paper he had stuffed in his pocket for the entire drive home. He didn’t knowingly lie to ‘Mr.-Bryant-call-me-Eugene’. He’d honestly forgotten about the paper.

He just felt a twinge of guilt for not telling Mr. Bryant the truth when he did remember. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t say anything, except he was afraid it would make him look a liar after he said everything had been disposed of. Well that, and the fact that the whole situation was just downright weird.

Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, he replayed his meeting with Mr. Bryant. He might not have ever collected trash before, but it didn’t take a genius to realize this was not standard procedure. Being escorted by two big bodyguard type men to see someone in upper management just because one garbage bag had torn? There was nothing normal about that.

He would just throw that stupid paper away when he got home,
he decided as he turned onto the main road. Then reconsidered. Maybe he should at least look at it. He didn’t want to work for a company if it was doing something illegal.

But what were the odds that this one piece of paper out of the whole bag would just happen to have some kind of incriminating information on it? This wasn’t even ‘the company’s’ trash. This was just a resident’s trash who expected confidentiality.

Arguments waged war through Billy’s mind as he neared the older subdivision where he lived on the opposite side of town from Scinegue. He pictured the face that had watched him from the window again today.
What was it about that face?

It didn’t matter,
Billy decided as he slapped a palm against the steering wheel. He’d agreed to the utmost confidentiality when he accepted this position. He would go home, find the paper and shred it.
No, he would burn it,
he thought. Then he would honestly be able to say he’d disposed of all the trash.

B
illy felt good about his decision to destroy the paper he’d picked up at work the day before. He unlocked the door and walked into the house full of purpose. “I’m home!” he called before slowing as he noted the silence. Sarah always had some kind of music playing.

“In the living room,” came Sarah’s flat reply.

His feeling of contentment fled when he saw Sarah’s drawn face. “Sarah, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asked as he hurried to her.

She was sitting stiffly on the couch. Her hair was down and came to a rest below her shoulders, on the soft green material of a faded t-shirt she wore with jean shorts. A laundry basket full of clean clothes sat on the floor by her feet, and a few folded articles were stacked in neat piles on the cushion beside her.

Billy’s eyes were drawn to the white piece of paper she held. It had been very crumpled before she’d smoothed it out, and he knew instinctually what it was.

“You didn’t read that, did you?” He snatched the paper from her hands and shook it in the air. “I mean, you just found it in the laundry, and you were going to throw it away, right?” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.

“Have you read it?” she asked in a quiet voice, as her soft brown eyes searched his face. “Do you have any idea what it’s about?”

“No!” he almost shouted. “It was from the papers that spilled yesterday. One blew under the truck so I grabbed it as we were driving off and stuck it in my pocket. I forgot about it until today.”

“Billy, you have to read it,” she insisted. “Some of it doesn’t make sense, but if it means what I think it means ...” her voice trailed off, and she lowered her head.

Billy sat down next to Sarah and felt foolish. What on earth were they making such a big deal over? It was a piece of paper. Some guy’s resumé, or an old love letter that could ruin a marriage. It might be a big deal to someone, but to them it was trash. He took a deep breath and tried to match Sarah’s calm.

“I can’t read it, Sarah.” He placed a reassuring hand on her knee. “I was hired for discretion. Even if no one ever found out I read it, I would still always feel guilty.”

Sarah raised her eyes to meet his, and Billy was surprised by the fear he saw in them. “You have to read this, Billy. You have to tell me I’m crazy, that I have a wild imagination. You have to!”

Billy put his arm around her and pulled her to his chest. “Hey, what is this? You are one of the most easy-going people I’ve ever met. There can’t be enough on that one piece of paper to have upset you so much. Did something else happen?”

Regaining her calm facade, Sarah shook her head and pulled back, trying again to persuade Billy to read the paper.

“I’ve read it. I can’t forget what it says, so it’s already not ‘confidential’ anymore. I respect your integrity. You know it’s one of the things I really love about you. But right now, I need you to trust me. You have to read this paper.”

Billy let his head fall back against the couch and rubbed his eyes. He trusted Sarah. With his life. If she was that determined he should read the stupid paper then he would.

But then he would no longer be able to honestly say he hadn’t seen anything. It could—and probably would—mean his job.
Well,
he thought in resignation,
he wasn’t sure he would have a job when he went to work this morning, but he still did. Maybe his luck would hold.

He sat up and gave Sarah a probing look. “Are you sure you want me to read this? You know I can lose my job over it.” She just nodded, so he smoothed out the once again crumpled paper and started reading what looked like a continuation from a previous page.

in the selection of subjects. Female subjects will be greater than or equal to five foot five inches tall. BMI of 24.9% or less required. Age must be less than or equal to thirty-five. Any previous children must be evaluated for genetic makeup and potential breed-ability. Any flaws or health issues will lead to immediate reevaluation of the female’s potential.

3irrgsrlvrqlqjbnqqehvfkhgxohgiruxquhiopdeohvxerhfwvrqwkhodvwgdb2qhngxcnvyq.cocuufkurqucnyknndgoquvghhgevkxgcpetckugokpkocnuwurkekqprngcuetgpfgtcnn8vmkmaaizgviumaxzqwzbwbpmnqvitlifvntmdmtbewaw3surshusuhsudwlrqvpdbEhpdghsureohpvdulvlqjzlwkvshflphqvdwdodwhugdwhz6orrhkjkgrzcoznutgigykheigykhgyoyjoyvukgrycorrhkjkgrz12iuftnkeqogdufmezogqeemdk.mzkcgqefuazemdueuzsrdayrmyuxkyqynqdeyg4wxehuhihuhhxskvsytpiehivwewwssrewxlicevivigimzih.

Subjects will be approached and invited to join a testing group for ‘enhanced health’. Subjects deemed acceptable will be allowed to participate in further testing and training. Unsuitable subjects will be dismissed immediately after the first meeting. If ideal subject seems resistant to established goals, reprogramming may be attempted. A persistent nonconformist must be disposed of before level three. They may not be returned at this point. Male and female subjects will be matched according to desired genetic compatibility and responsiveness to the program. Anyone not fully convinced of the program’s merits must be disposed of at this point. All subjects

The paper came to an abrupt end, obviously continued on another page.

Billy looked over at Sarah. “Well, it’s weird, but not that big of a deal. They’re just talking about choosing people for some of their testing. Why did that upset you so much?”

Sarah gnawed her lower lip thoughtfully before meeting his look. “Don’t you think some of the language is strange? ‘Dispose of nonconformists.’ What does that mean to you?”

“Not let them continue participating in the study, I guess. What does it mean to you?” His brow creased as he studied her worried face.

“I didn’t know at first, but it sounded weird.
Dispose
. Like you ‘dispose’ of trash. That paper is well written. They could have said the people would be released from the program, or something that doesn’t sound so drastic.”

“Maybe it’s just not as well written as you think. It is a strange choice of words, but I’m sure they just mean the people would be removed from the study.”

“I don’t think so,” Sarah paused. “Notice anything strange about the rows of numbers and letters in the middle?”

Billy looked at the lines again. He’d skipped over them the first time in his hurry to read the document. “I might see some patterns here.” He ran a finger under the jumble of numbers and letters. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, though. It could be the code number for this project.”

“It’s not a code number,” she said simply. “But it is a coded message. Like on that show I watch Tuesday nights where the main character always finds some type of hidden message in newspapers, or TV ads, or something.”

He shrugged. “What does a television show have to do with this?”

“Nothing, other than the fact it has kind of made me start looking for codes everywhere.” The corner of her mouth twitched into an embarrassed half-grin. “I never really expect to find anything. It’s just fun to go through the newspaper every morning searching for strange patterns or overt codes. And no,” she answered before he could ask, “I haven’t ever found anything. Until now.”

“Sarah,” he was shaking his head, “we need to throw this away. Not just throw it away, burn it. And we need to both forget we ever saw it. I’m sure it’s possible to make anything look like it is a code. You could probably replace some of the numbers on this page with letters, and eventually you might come up with some random words, but that’s it. TV is TV. This is the real world, and in the real world I am so close to losing my job it’s scary.”

“Forget about your job, Billy!” The old couch gave a squeak of protest as she grabbed his arm and leaned close. “You need to listen to what I’m telling you. These people are planning to kill off anyone who doesn’t meet certain standards. And if I’m not crazy, if this really is what it sounds like, I would be among the people who were killed.” She tapped a finger against her chest. “You saw the criteria for women. I’m only five-two. I wouldn’t even be given a chance to accept whatever it is they’re trying to promote.”

Billy lunged to his feet and started pacing, shaking his head in frustration as the stress of the day finally found an outlet. “Do you even know how crazy all of this sounds? Absolutely off the wall crazy! Someone wants to kill you because you’re not tall enough?” He gave her a look filled with reproach.

“Have you been home alone so long that you’ve started making up fantasies to entertain yourself?” Getting more agitated by the minute, his voice grew louder and he continued sarcastically, “Oh, and I guess every TV show you’ve ever seen is based on reality” He turned to face her. “Do you know how
ridiculous
that sounds? I guess we’ll have to start watching out for aliens because there are TV shows about them. Or maybe the people I work for
are
the aliens! That makes sense, right?”

Sarah stood up with her hands on her hips, her cheeks flaming with hurt and disbelief. “What is the matter with you? Why are you saying such mean things?” It was rare for Billy to lose his temper, and certainly not at her. “Just because I got my idea from a TV show doesn’t mean I think all shows are based on reality. You know me better than that!”

“What do you think is the matter with me?” his voice rose another octave. “I get a good paying job for no apparent reason, and today I’m escorted into the boss’s office by two suits and questioned about a few papers that blew across the street yesterday. My previous partner disappeared and my current partner claims he wasn’t the first. Then I come home and my typically sane wife tells me there’s a conspiracy to kill everyone in the world that doesn’t fit certain standards, and she’s the only one who knows about it. You tell me what’s the matter!” He stopped pacing and looked down at Sarah. Noticing her hurt expression, his lips firmed and he rubbed a hand across his mouth.

He dropped to the couch and put his elbows on his knees then rested his forehead on his hands before taking a deep breath. “Maybe I’m the one going crazy.”

Sarah looked at the top of Billy’s bowed head and stamped down the hurt and anger that surged through her, taking a deep breath of her own. “Let me just show you what I found,” she said as calmly as she could in a tight voice. “If you still don’t think I’m right, I’ll drop it. But you have to see this first.”

“I’m sorry.” Billy shook his head and sighed, his tirade had surprised even him. “Show me what you found. Then we can decide which of us is the crazy one,” he tried to joke with a weak smile.

Sarah struggled against her hurt feelings and reached for her laptop computer on the coffee table being careful not to bump her glass of iced tea. She didn’t expect Billy to just believe what she thought she found—she wasn’t positive she believed it herself—but she certainly hadn’t expected him to get so angry.

She knew he was under a lot of pressure with the situation at work and tried to empathize. She sat beside him on the couch wondering how she could show him what she needed him to see without adding to his burdens.

“I am sorry.” He reached out to guide her chin up and searched for forgiveness in her eyes. “This has been a strange couple of days, but I shouldn’t have blown up like that. I was planning to come home and burn that paper without looking at it, and get on with my normal life. You reading it and thinking it might mean something really bad just complicated my life a little more than I was prepared for.”

Sarah studied his contrite expression and leaned forward to brush her lips against his. “You’re forgiven.” Her lips curved up, forming the tiniest hint of a sad smile. “Don’t make a habit of it, though.”

He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. She was an amazing woman.

“I might be making something out of nothing.” Sarah pulled away and turned back to her computer eager to get Billy’s opinion. “But, it
really
looks like something to me. I just need you to read it and see what you think. Then we can make sense out of it together.”

“Show me what you’ve got,” he said in resignation.

“Well,” she lifted the cover of her computer, “I noticed there’s a pattern of one number followed by a string of letters, and then a different number again followed by some letters, and that keeps repeating.” She tapped a few keys on her keyboard and pulled up a website she’d saved.

“I told you I’ve been looking for codes, just for fun you know, and I found some websites for building and deciphering codes. This one’s for kids.”

She gave Billy a wry look. “Before you say anything, I double checked everything once I figured out the code. It was all correct. All I had to do was type in the number here,” she typed the first number from the paper into the code-breaking site, “then type all the letters up to the next number below it.” Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she typed in the letters, different letters appearing in the box underneath them.

“It’s a simple code. The number just shows how many places to the left in the alphabet the following letters need to be shifted. The computer program is a lot faster than doing it by hand.” She tore her eyes from the code and glanced at Billy, but his expression was impassive, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“It was a little confusing at first,” she continued, “because there aren’t any spaces. Once I realized there were actually words in there, it didn’t take long to figure out what it says. My first instinct was that this website just gave out ‘spy’ type words no matter what you input, but after I played around with it a little bit, I realized it was talking about the same stuff as the rest of the memo, just in more detail.”