The Revelation of Eden Pruitt, page 24
Asher watched the embrace with a frown as a familiar tune filled the newsroom. Every flatscreen cut from the crisis unfolding in Madison to Chuck Perez sitting behind his news desk. Breaking news on top of breaking news. Concordia’s chief anchor was coming on air with an update on the recovery mission in Montgomery County, Maryland. A team of divers had successfully retrieved the body of thirty-two-year-old Milo Guthrie, a prison guard from Annapolis. They had found no trace of the two prisoners who should have been secured in the back of the van. At this, pictures of Cassian and Dvorak came on the screen.
Eden could practically feel the panic rising across the country. The regime they believed to be responsible for the catastrophic attacks upon Minneapolis and Madison had freed two of their most valuable players. Right from beneath the government’s nose.
Chuck Perez welcomed Chairwoman Kendra Cruz to join the live feed. She sat behind her own stately desk—dressed like a high-powered businesswoman—and addressed the nation. She urged the public to stay calm. She encouraged citizens to stay at home until the government could get a better grasp on the developing situation. As Eden suspected, she tripled the bounty on Cassian and Dvorak’s heads.
“Why aren’t they saying anything about the prisoners who died?” Nairobi asked, bending over to pick up the fallen printouts.
Surely, this would have been viewed by the public as an Interitus fail. The regime had attempted to free all eight of their players. They’d only managed to free two. Six had perished. Along with several more who’d been part of the prison break. If the government truly wanted the public to stay calm, this would certainly help. But not even a whiff of the botched ambush was making the airwaves.
“Brahm is too smart for that,” Dvorak said, her eyes like black stone. “He’s not interested in calming the public. His plans work better if they’re terrified.”
Nairobi handed the papers to Dayne.
The newswire beeped.
So did Eden’s back pocket.
It was the gadget. The one she’d used to contact Barrett and Violet. It hadn’t so much as vibrated since the last time they’d communicated. With so many noises happening around them, nobody seemed to notice. Except for Cassian. His golden eyes met hers. He followed her as she exited the news room.
Cleo caught on and followed, too.
They found a private corner off to the left of the elevator. Eden pulled the gadget from her pocket and answered the call.
Barrett appeared—his round, friendly face going bright with excitement. “Hey! I’ve got her! She’s right here.”
He moved out of the frame.
His projection disappeared.
Another replaced it.
Someone so unexpected, so wholly longed for, Eden had to cup her hand over her mouth to muffle her own exclamation.
It was her dad.
She was looking at her father—his face lined with tension and anxiety that was melting away before her eyes.
Beside him—but not in view—someone cried.
“Mom?” Eden whispered. “Is that Mom?”
“Yes,” Dad said, beaming. “She’s right here.” He looked off to his left with a reassuring smile. Eden imagined Dad taking Mom’s hand and giving it a jubilant, reassuring squeeze. “The Foresters are here, too. So is Ben. And Violet.”
“Where are you?” Eden asked.
“We got out of Milwaukee just as the National Guard was rolling in. We reached the Damen Silos not more than ten minutes ago.”
She choked on her relief.
The Damen Silos.
“Is Mona there?” Cassian asked, the question filled with such sharp urgency, Eden was taken aback.
Dad must have heard him.
His brow furrowed. “Was that—are you with Cassian?”
“Yes,” Eden said. “He’s here. He’s alive.”
And he was holding out his hand—a nonverbal request to take the gadget.
Eden passed it to him.
“Mr. Pruitt,” he said, “is Mona at the Silos with you?”
“Not yet. But there’s a kid here who tells us she’ll be back soon.”
“You need to leave now. Before she returns.”
“Why?”
“Mona can’t be trusted.”
Eden and Cleo gaped at one another.
Ever since bombs had dropped on their dummy location, Eden had suspected Mona of betrayal. Cleo had defended her, insisting Mona would never betray them. Now, here Cass was, his tone and expression simmering with something dark. Something threatening. Cass and Mona weren’t close. Their relationship was devoid of warmth. But there wasn’t animosity either. He had no way of knowing about the attack on their dummy location, unless Jericho had mentioned it en route. But even then, why would he pin such an attack on Mona?
The furrow in her father’s brow deepened. “Where are we supposed to go?”
Eden touched Cassian’s arm. “They should come here. It’s the only safe place.”
“Where are you?” Dad asked.
She opened her mouth to give him their location, but Cass cut her off with the lift of his hand. “We can’t say. Not while you’re using Mona’s network.”
“You’re both overreacting.” Cleo set her hand on her hip, clearly annoyed. “We don’t have any proof Mona is the one who sold us out.”
“She sold me out, Cleo,” Cassian said. “My mother, too.”
“What are you talking about?” Cleo asked.
“My father came for a visit while I was in prison.”
Eden covered her mouth.
Cleo’s eyes went round as saucers.
“Mona’s the reason he knew we were alive. She told him where he could find us in exchange for cash.”
Eden shook her head, trying to process this information. This awful, sickening information.
But Cass gave her no time. “Where’s the closest safe house?”
She drew a mental map in her mind, a replica of the one she’d seen in Mona’s office. There were five safe houses spread throughout the Chicago area. The closest was in Beecher. Eden gave Cassian the name and the address. She could hear the scribble of a pen as Dad wrote the information on one of Mona’s sticky notes.
“Get there as quickly as possible,” Cass said. “Contact us as soon as you arrive and we can tell you where to go next. If Mona intercepts this, she will know where you went, which means you need to get in and get out fast. We have to stay ahead of her.”
Her father nodded.
“Dad,” Eden said, coming right beside Cassian so her father could see her. So she could see him. Her mother did the same, smiling tremulously as tears spilled down her cheeks. Eden could only look at her for the briefest of moments lest she break down, too. “Did you bring the device with you—the one Violet fixed?”
“Of course.”
“Keep it close. We’re going to need all the information we can get from it.” She gave them her bravest smile. “I love you.”
“We love you, too, kiddo. Talk soon.”
With a resolute nod, Eden ended the call.
39
Shock and fear rippled through the room.
Violet shut off the device she’d been examining—specifically, the movement and pattern of blinking dots—and slipped it inside the pocket of her new, clean coat. Ellery slid off the headset she’d been using to study the map of off-the-grid communities and safe houses across the country. Everyone stared at one another inside Mona’s underground office, none of them sure what to do.
Cassian was alive.
The Damen Silos weren’t safe.
Mona couldn’t be trusted.
They needed to get to the address Alexander had written on the sticky note. They needed to get there as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, a radio played somewhere beyond the sheet hanging in the doorway.
“While biowarfare threatens the Midwest, authorities across the country are celebrating a much-needed victory. RRA officials raided a community of illegal residents late last night in Madison, Wisconsin. According to officers on scene, it was a hotbed of gambling and fighting and what is believed to be a major recruiting ground for Interitus.”
Madison.
They’d been there on their trek to Dr. Norton’s cabin. Now the toxin was there. It had followed them from Minneapolis. Then it followed them to Milwaukee, too.
“In light of this discovery, Wisconsin officials have mandated fingerprints and retinal imaging for all citizens under the age of eighteen.”
The radio coverage switched to a young mother inside a neonatal unit.
“For those of us with nothing to hide—law-abiding citizens,” she said. “I don’t see why we wouldn’t fully cooperate. I will do whatever is necessary to keep my child safe.”
Alexander drew his gun and loaded a magazine. He stepped next to the wall and peeked around the sheet. “We need to get to the truck quickly and quietly.”
Nobody objected.
They fell in line without saying a word. Alexander led the way. Barrett and Violet took up the rear. They didn’t meet anyone in the damp, torch-lit hallway. Not even the tall, skinny kid who had led them to Mona’s office. There weren’t many people here in the Silos, and the ones that were had made their way to the cafeteria for breakfast.
They reached the stairwell.
Up above, the sky was dreary and overcast.
Alexander peeked above ground to make sure the coast was clear. Then he waved them up. They hurried up the stairs in single-file. On the fifth step, Violet stopped. She grabbed Barrett by his elbow, yanking him to a halt as a dart whizzed through the air and hit Ellery in the neck.
She crumpled to the ground.
Annette screamed.
Jack roared.
Violet dropped down the stairs. She scuttled backward with Barrett, ducking into the pitch-black shadow of the stairwell as a gun fired and crows cawed and Ruth’s scream joined Annette’s.
There was a flood of headlights through the dreary sky. The roar of two vehicles.
Violet couldn’t see, but she could hear. So well, she could track every movement as she hid in the dark, holding on to Barrett’s hand. There were ten officers. Ten guns. All of them yelling, “Hands in the air! Drop the weapon!”
Alexander’s handgun thudded in the grass.
The officers closed in.
Arms were wrenched behind backs.
Annette cried and begged as a guard tore her away from her daughter.
Jack objected.
There was a quick scuffle followed by the sharp crack of metal against bone. The crunch of cartilage. The spurting of blood as knees hit the ground. A face being smashed into the dirt. An officer’s boot pressed against someone’s spine and Annette sobbing incoherently.
Violet could smell the salt of her tears, the iron in Jack’s blood.
“Identify the girl. Make sure she’s not a fake.”
An officer removed an object from his belt. Pants creased as he crouched low. An eyelid was pulled apart, followed by the hum of an infrared scan. “We’ve got one of them. There should be two more.”
Boots shuffled, as though the officers were looking around. And then, an angry demand. “Where are the other two?”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Alexander replied, squeezing the words between clenched teeth.
Ruth whimpered.
“Don’t play dumb with me.” There was a soft, subtle click. The cock of a gun. “Barrett Barr and Violet Winter. Where are they?”
Violet swallowed a squeak.
They knew her name.
The barrel of the officer’s gun shoved against flesh. “Tell me now or I will pull this trigger.”
Violet squeezed her eyes shut.
Alexander Pruitt was about to be shot and killed.
Because of them.
They needed to walk up the stairs with their hands raised. They needed to surrender. Right now, before that officer squeezed his trigger finger. She tried to get Barrett’s attention, but his body was rigid and unmoving beside her.
And suddenly, the gun turned in a fast whirl. Based on the sudden silence of Ruth’s whimpers, she was the new target.
Violet’s heart pounded.
She shook her head.
Not her. Not the nice mother.
She tried to pull Barrett up, but he wouldn’t budge. Heat and tension and panic seeped from his pores as he bore down like gravity might betray him. Like it had the power to yank him up by his feet and hurl him into the sky.
If the guard expected Ruth Pruitt to crack under such pressure, he was in for a rude awakening, for when she spoke, her voice came in a low, menacing tremble. “My husband already told you. We. Don’t. Know.”
There was a silent face-off.
Hearts pounded.
And then the officer lowered his weapon.
“Load them into the truck,” he shouted. “Search the grounds. They’re here somewhere.”
Violet yanked Barrett to his feet and they ran. They raced through the torch-lit corridors, dodging open-mouthed residents who had just finished breakfast, until they reached tunnels that weren’t torch-lit. Water splashed beneath their boots as they turned wildly, losing themselves in the labyrinth, until they found another exit.
They ascended the stairs on silent feet.
Across a fifty-yard span of waist-length prairie grass, two RRA vehicles idled with an officer standing guard in front of each. Violet communicated her plan to Barrett using made-up sign language. He began shoving the journals he hadn’t yet memorized under his coat and into the waistband of his jeans. He left the rest in the rucksack behind, and together, they slithered like snakes around the edge of the fence until they reached the back of the vehicles. The two officers remained unaware, despite their vigilant postures with guns at the ready.
Violet could hear Annette sobbing and Jack moaning in the vehicle to the left. Along with the rattle and tug of metal as Alexander and Ruth and Dr. Norton tried and failed to break their restraints. Violet and Barrett crawled beneath this vehicle and pulled themselves up and out of sight, clinging to its undercarriage, breathing just barely.
Thirty minutes later, the other officers returned.
“The tunnel system is expansive. They could be anywhere down there.”
“We’ll have to send in a crew of dogs. Jake and I will take these guys to Fred. Baz and Ike will take her to command. The six of you can start evacuating. Remember, these people aren’t going to any of the facilities. Handle them with care.”
“But they’re illegal—”
“They won’t be for much longer. Paperwork’s already in process. Keep a close eye on the exits. Barr and Winter are down there somewhere. Don’t give them a way out.” The officer climbed behind the wheel.
A second officer—Jake—got in beside him.
The doors shut.
The engine shifted into drive.
The officer drove through the gate, completely unaware that the two they were looking for had helped themselves to a ride.
40
Eden, Cleo, and Cassian stood in silence.
He’d seen his father—the monster-of-a-man who had killed his mother, then beat him within an inch of his life. That monster had visited him in prison. And during that encounter, he’d told Cassian Mona sold them out. Mona. The woman Eden had first seen in a picture, wearing a jaunty hat while an adorable six-year-old boy smiled at the camera, sandwiched safely between his effervescent mother and the woman who had taken them in. That woman had sacrificed an innocent mother and her innocent child. For what? To feed more mouths?
Eden’s stomach churned. Perhaps she might believe that Mona was regretful for such a cold-hearted move if not for the air raid that had occurred two miles south of the Potomac Yard. If America Underground hadn’t had the foresight to create a dummy location, they would have been completely decimated. There would have been nobody left to resist Oswin Brahm. He would have had free rein to carry out his psychotic plans.
“Dayne needs to know she can’t be trusted,” Cleo said. She didn’t wait for Eden or Cassian to agree. She turned on her heel and marched inside the newsroom with only a ghost of a limp.
Eden touched Cass’s arm. She wanted him to look at her. She wanted to ask him about his dad, about Mona, but he refused to meet her eye as he turned and followed Cleo.
Together, they congregated in Dayne’s office. There was no need to alarm everyone in the newsroom. At least, not more than they were already alarmed.
“The leader in Chicago is not on our side.” Cleo shut the door behind her, then turned around to explain.
When she was finished, Asher cursed.
Dvorak looked ready to snap. Her mouth was tight and quivering, her eyes two laser beams of fury.
Jericho looked deeply troubled.
“She has the location of our safe houses,” Nairobi said.
“And every off-the-grid community across the country,” Cleo added.
An unsettled silence fell upon them.
If Mona was a sell-out—and it seemed she most certainly was—she had enough information to make a fortune. Thus far, they’d kept the Resistance private. They’d only shared with the people of Alexandria, a decision with which Francesca took issue. Never mind spreading the word across the entire off-the-grid network, the girl with the glass eye didn’t even want to clue in their newest bedfellows. Francesca needn’t have worried. The people in Alexandria stepped aboard with no hiccups. Eden wasn’t surprised. The people in Alexandria were illegal residents. Illegals were natural allies. Except, of course, for Mona. Oswin Brahm was exterminating their natural allies and that woman was all-too-eager to point her finger at known infestations.
“Except us,” Eden reminded them. “Mona doesn’t know this location.”
“It’s the only safe place to be right now,” Dayne agreed.
