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  “I don’t know, Miss Rourke. I’m simply following orders. You’ll need to come with us.”

  “Of course. Let me lock my office.”

  “Actually, I need you to remain in the lobby while we search this facility.”

  “Search it for what?”

  “SimSearch shows another person at this location. A, um …” A pause. “Mason Elias. We’re to take him into custody.”

  Mason couldn’t breathe. Had Lawten and his enforcers managed to figure out what he and Ciddah had been trying to do?

  “Has he done something?” Ciddah asked.

  “I’m sorry. That’s classified, Miss Rourke.”

  Multiple footsteps clacked in the lobby, down the hall, approaching exam room one. Mason panicked. He ripped off the bandage that held his SimTag and dropped it in the trash beside the door. Then he opened the narrow clothing closet behind the exam table and squeezed inside. He tried to close the door, but it bounced off the toes of his shoes. He turned his feet sideways, and barely managed to pull the door shut.

  At first Mason didn’t hear anything. Perhaps they’d gone to a different room? Then a voice on the other side of the closet door spoke.

  “I don’t see anyone.” The enforcer had to be twelve inches from the closet.

  “Scan for the tag,” another said, this one farther away.

  In the confined space, Mason sounded like a panting dog. He held his breath a moment, then let it seep from his lips, praying they wouldn’t open the closet.

  “It’s coming from the trash can,” the first man said, his voice more distant.

  Another silent, agonizing pause passed. The trash can clunked on the tile.

  “Got it. It’s stuck to this bandage. He cut it out.”

  “Stimming rebels, anyway. Call it in, and let’s get out of here.”

  “T33, a 620,” the first enforcer said.

  A tinny female voice responded. “T33, go ahead.”

  Footsteps faded from the room as the enforcer answered, “T33, 10 – 26 on Ciddah Rourke. 620 on Mason Elias.”

  Mason wasn’t able to hear any more. The thought crossed his mind that he’d left Ciddah to the enforcers. He should have done something to help her, something that enabled them both to escape. But the enforcer hadn’t said he was taking Ciddah into custody. Only Mason. So Ciddah would likely be sent home after talking with Lawten.

  He stayed put until long after he heard the elevator ding, hoping they hadn’t left behind an enforcer. When he finally climbed out of hiding, his gaze landed on the blood meter. A thrill ran up the back of his neck. He stepped toward it, looked down at the display.

  Xiaodrine.

  What was Xiaodrine? Mason had never heard of it. To protect Ciddah, he quickly cleaned up their experiment, washed his blood samples down the sink, and cleared the blood meter’s memory.

  Now to get out of here.

  The only yellow security camera that he knew of in the SC was in the lobby. He recalled how Shaylinn had snuck out the emergency exit when she’d first found herself here. But without his SimTag, he didn’t have a way to open the door.

  In his medic orientation, Ciddah had mentioned emergency overrides in SimPads in case of a blackout. Mason found a scalpel and crept to the back door of the SC. He pried off the pad from the unit, which revealed a green circuit board covered in white and orange components. At the bottom was a black switch. He flipped it, and the door swung open.

  Enforcers would likely detect that on the grid, so Mason ran all the way to his apartment in the Westwall. It wasn’t until he was standing outside his apartment — using the scalpel to pry the pad off the unit beside his door — that it occurred to him there might not be an override switch on the outsides of doors, as that would enable unauthorized entry.

  Sure enough, no switch. He screamed out his frustration and kicked the door, paced back and forth in front of it, then tried to use his shoulder as a battering ram.

  When the door swung in, he jumped back, shocked.

  Omar stood inside. “Hey, brother. Something wrong?”

  Mason ran in and shut the door. “What are you doing here?”

  “Otley arrested me. Gave me a new SimTag and a black eye. But he drained all my credits, and I had no way to get back to the Midlands. Do you have any stims, Mase? I could really use a hit of something and my PV’s back at my place.”

  Omar was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and had bare feet. His eye was swollen and rimmed in purple and yellow. A 9XX glowed brightly on his cheek, and thick brown feather SimArt coated one arm.

  “So, Otley knows you’re here?” If they were looking for Mason, Omar’s new SimTag might bring them here first.

  “I couldn’t very well go to any rebel locations with a legit SimTag, brother. Otley told me not to cut it out, but I want — ”

  “You have to. Now.” Mason ran into his bedroom. His mirror clock read 9:12 p.m. He picked up his backpack and filled it with all his medical supplies: a bottle of alcohol, his scalpels, a box of adhesive bandages, a bag of cotton balls, and a box of rubber gloves. He found his portable Wyndo on his bedside table, then got on the floor to fetch the little metal box holding the ghoulie tag, which he’d taped to a bar under his bed. He grabbed a spare pair of shoes and jogged back into the living room with a full pack.

  Omar was running in place, staring at Mason’s Wyndo wall screen, which was a blur of colors that made no sense to Mason.

  “What are you doing?” Mason asked.

  “Playing Metaldrome. I got SimSight contacts a few weeks ago, and they’re amazing. It’s like stepping inside the wall screen.” Omar leaped around the living room, clearly seeing something Mason couldn’t.

  Mason tossed his backpack onto the couch. “Wyndo wall screen: off.”

  Omar whipped around. “Hey! Why’d you do that?”

  “I need to cut out your tag now. Enforcers are coming. So, sit down and let me get this done. And put on these shoes.”

  Omar sat on the couch and pushed his feet into the shoes, then twisted his arm so that his fist was bottom side up. “What’d you do?”

  Mason crouched beside him and wet a cotton ball with the alcohol. “I don’t know. Ciddah said they’ve been monitoring us. We must have said something they didn’t like.”

  “Then let’s do this somewhere else.”

  Mason swabbed Omar’s hand, then the scalpel. “They’ll track us. I’d rather your trail end here.”

  “Do you have any stims?”

  “Not a drop, brother. Never tried them.”

  “Figured. You’re smart, Mase, but you already know that.”

  Mason used the razor to make an incision on Omar’s hand. His brother’s muscles tensed, but Omar didn’t jerk away. Mason pushed out the SimTag with his thumbnail. He left Omar’s SimTag on the coffee table and stuck a bandage over the wound. “Let’s go.”

  They slipped out into the hall. It was quiet and Mason headed for the stairwell.

  “Where are you going?” Omar asked, running alongside. The number on his face was gone now, as was the SimArt on his arm.

  “I don’t trust the elevator right now.” But they passed under a yellow security camera as they entered the stairwell. They’d have to be far more careful if they were going to make it to Zane’s. “We need to hide from the cameras, brother. You’re the Owl — how do you do it?”

  They rounded the landing for the fourth floor and continued down.

  “There aren’t as many cameras in the Midlands,” Omar said, “and Zane can switch them on and off.”

  “Then tap Zane,” Mason said, as they rounded the third floor landing. “We’re going to need his help.”

  “I can’t without a ghoulie tag.”

  Mason sighed and dug in his pack until he found the little metal box. He opened it and found a thick silver ring. “Put this on and see if it will work.” He handed the ring to Omar, who slid it onto the middle finger of his right hand.

  “SimTalk: tap: Zane,” Omar said.r />
  Mason held his breath, praying it would work.

  “Hay-o, yourself,” Omar said, continuing down the stairs. “Yeah, we need your eyes.”

  Good. Mason slowed a little and pulled out his portable Wyndo. He used the Friend-Finder to look up Ciddah’s location, moving slowly down to the second floor landing as he read the screen. Her SimTag was at 79 Summit Road, which was on the southeast edge of the Highlands, near the top curve of the bell. He tapped to identify the location as he started down the last flight of stairs. The address came up unregistered.

  Was that allowed in the Safe Lands?

  Perhaps it was a private residence of some kind, secluded from the rest of the city. Lawten’s home, maybe? If so, what did he want with Ciddah?

  Next he used the Friend-Finder to locate Ciddah’s parents. They were home.

  “What are you doing?” Omar asked.

  Mason looked up to see his brother waiting at the bottom of the stairwell. “Attempting to locate Ciddah.”

  “I thought you didn’t trust her.”

  “That was … before.” He didn’t like not knowing where she was, whether or not she was okay.

  Omar turned away and cupped his hand over his ear. “Zane says enforcers are out front, but the back is clear. He says to go to the train station on Snowmass and Washington Gulch.”

  “That’s quite a walk,” Mason said.

  “Yeah, well, he says enforcers are all over downtown, and this is our best bet.”

  They pushed out the door and ran through the night. They crossed Gothic Road, which was always the busiest road in the Highlands.

  “Slow down,” Omar said. “Zane says we’ll only call attention to ourselves it we’re running.”

  Happy to. Mason wasn’t nearly as physically fit as his little brother. “We have to take the train to Midlands West,” Mason said. “Tell Zane. We need to get Ciddah’s parents into hiding. Lawten has been using them against her, and she’ll keep doing what he asks until she’s certain they’re safe.”

  “Are you crazy? Levi will turn purple.”

  They passed down an alley to Snowmass Road, which had far less traffic, and Mason relaxed a little. “There’s nothing he can do once we arrive. We need to get to them before Lawten does.”

  “Maybe he already has. Have you thought of that?”

  Mason wished Omar would stop arguing. “I used the Friend-Finder on my portable Wyndo. Both Droe and Losira are at home.”

  Omar grabbed Mason’s arm and stopped him in front of a Lift shop. “You didn’t sleep with her, did you, brother? ‘Cause, Mase, that’s how I got the thin plague. You might be infected.”

  The accusation flustered Mason. He pulled free from Omar’s grasp. “I have not been intimate with Ciddah.” Though he had been careless. One should not be able to contract a blood-borne disease from kissing, but it was certainly possible. “Lawten has been blackmailing her. I simply want to help her.” Mason kept walking.

  Omar quickly caught up. “That guy is the lowest kind of maggot.”

  “Yes, well — ”

  “So you’re rebel scum now, brother. Just like me.” Omar grinned and punched Mason’s arm.

  “There’s more,” Mason said, pausing to look both ways before crossing Rebon Street. “I saw Penelope today. They’re moving her into the harem next week, so we made a plan to get them out tomorrow night. But I still have no method of getting into the nursery.”

  “I got that covered, Mase,” Omar said, “but I’m going to need you to help me convince Levi.”

  “Of what?

  “I promised Kendall Collin I’d get her baby too when we went for our kids. She’s been to the nursery and wants to help. She knows the layout.”

  Excellent. “That’s most encouraging. Why would Levi refuse her assistance?”

  “Because she’s a flaker like me. In case you missed it, Levi doesn’t like flakers.”

  Mason winced at Omar’s tone. Clearly Levi had failed to mend his relationship with Omar. The train station came into view in the distance. Almost there. “Levi can’t afford to be selective. Why didn’t Kendall Collin take her offer to Levi? Or Jemma?”

  “I don’t know. I guess we kind of became friends.”

  Mason raised his eyebrows. “Kind of? What about Shaylinn?”

  Omar punched Mason’s arm again. “Not that kind of friend. Walls, you’re prude, Mase, you know that?”

  “I do. Ciddah and Rimola are always quick to remind me.”

  “So, you really like that doctor woman?” Omar asked. “What do you think Levi will say?”

  “Levi’s not going to like having to worry about Kendall’s child,” Mason said, changing the subject as he headed up the steps to the train platform and locker 127.

  Omar kept pace beside him. “Yeah, but if you side with me, he has to agree.”

  Kendall had always been a nice girl. And Mason felt bad that the Safe Lands had taken her baby. But he didn’t want to put himself in the middle of an argument between Levi and Omar. “We’ll see.”

  CHAPTER

  23

  Levi stood behind the island in the kitchen of Zane’s house, observing the people in the living room. Almost everyone had arrived: Beshup and the other four men from Jack’s Peak, Jordan, Jemma, Ruston, and Nash. Some were sitting in the circle of chairs, some were standing and talking to each other. Zane, Mason, and Omar should have been there by now. But Ruston had told Levi that Zane was down in the nest, helping Levi’s brothers escape enforcers in the Highlands.

  Mason and Omar’s leaving the grid had not been part of the plan. His brothers were not skilled hunters or fighters, and Levi wasn’t convinced Zane would be enough to help them evade enforcers. What could have happened that they needed to flee?

  Beshup and Mukwiv approached the island. Levi had been trying to stay away from the Jack’s Peak men, distancing himself from another debate. He slipped around the opposite end of the island to where Ruston and his son Nash were standing by the fireplace. Levi stopped beside them.

  “What’s up?” Nash looked like Zane, with dark hair, pale skin, and deep-set eyes. But Nash had both ears and his skin wasn’t flaking. Thin plague free, perhaps? Levi wondered how Nash was dealing with his little brother leaving their underground community and becoming a flaker.

  “Trying to avoid another confrontation,” Levi mumbled.

  But Beshup and Mukwiv were not to be discouraged and followed Levi to the fireplace.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Beshup said, edging into the space between Nash and Levi. “We are six men, you are four. Together we have ten. If we split our number between the school, the nursery, and the harem — ”

  “We’ll have too few.” Levi wasn’t going to alter the plans at this late hour. They were sketchy enough as it was.

  “Then why not focus on the harem first?” Mukwiv suggested. “With our women free, we’ll have more than enough warriors to take back the children.”

  Levi gave the man the same answer he’d given him before. “If you’d like to take your men to the harem, go right ahead, but without Jack’s Peak’s help, it’ll be difficult to know if we have all your kids. I don’t know what they look like.”

  “I thought we were freeing all the children,” Ruston said. “No sense leaving any to be brainwashed further.”

  Now this again. It seemed everyone had their own “pet agenda,” as Zane had called it. “How could we free all the children with so few of us?”

  “Our women could help,” Beshup said, one eyebrow raised in his calm and silent defiance.

  Beshup was really getting on Levi’s nerves. “This is not open for discussion.”

  Mukwiv crossed his arms and grunted the way Chief Kimama was known for. “You are not the chief of Jack’s Peak.”

  “And you’re not the rebel leader, either,” Ruston said. “You can’t pull this off without my help, so I get a say in who gets rescued.”

  Disagreement from all sides. Levi couldn’t take this much l
onger. Silently, he recited the verse Jemma gave him to help him stay calm. Refrain from anger, turn from wrath. “Trying to free all the children makes everything more — “ Raised murmurs pulled his gaze to the entrance, where Mason had just come inside with a strange man and woman who looked to be in their late thirties. Safe Landers. Levi could tell from their skin. Omar was the last to enter, and he shut the door behind them. All four were carrying suitcases.

  “What’s this?” Ruston asked, the tone of his voice incredulous.

  Levi couldn’t believe his brothers would bring strangers here, and Omar’s swollen eye concerned him. “I have no idea. Why would the guards let them pass?”

  “The guards trust Omar,” Nash said.

  Levi and the men crossed the room, and by the time they reached the front door, Zane had exited the top of the basement stairs and greeted Mason and Omar with smiles.

  “Wasn’t sure you were going to make it there for a bit,” Zane said.

  “What happened to your eye?” Levi asked Omar.

  “Otley.”

  What? “How did — ”

  “Levi.” Mason beamed like this was some sort of celebration. “This is Droe and Losira. They’re Ciddah’s parents.”

  Ciddah? The medic? “Mason, I don’t — ”

  “Their SimTags?” Ruston pushed to the front of the group.

  “I removed them and left them in their house,” Mason said. “They want to go into hiding. Ciddah wanted to come too, but Lawten took her. I have no idea why.”

  “I told yoouuuu.” Losira smiled like she knew a secret, and her voice was twice as loud as need be. “He loves her. No matter what other femmes he takes into his life, he keeps coming back to my girl.”

  Mason scratched the back of his neck, forehead creased. “I think it’s because she found out something. It’s been rumored that Lonn was fired from being a medic and arrested because he discovered something the Guild didn’t want anyone to know, right?”

  “That’s one theory,” Ruston said. “What did Ciddah uncover?”

  “There’s a stimulant in the ACT meds,” Mason said.

  A grumble rose in the small room. Levi hadn’t realized everyone had crowded around Mason and his mystery guests. Was he the only one in the room who didn’t understand what his brother had just said?