Darkness Follows Page 28

  Hal was struggling for control. “Why did he do it?” His voice squeaked. In the dashboard’s glow his expression was raw. “Amity, why? He was a Peacefighter. The whole world trusted him.”

  “I don’t know,” I said again. “I wish I did.” One of my hands clenched tightly in my lap. Soon I’ll find out, I vowed silently. For both of us, Hal. I swear it.

  I cleared my throat and touched his arm. “Listen, maybe…maybe we’ll have answers someday. Let’s just forget about it until then. Where are you taking us?”

  He let out a deep breath. I saw him make a conscious effort to put Dad aside. “To a Resistance meeting point on the other side of Topeka,” he said at last. “Vince Griffin will be there – there’s a lot going on.”

  “Like what?”

  He slid his hands over the wheel. “I’m not sure. It feels like something big though. Something to do with Appalachia, I think.”

  My pulse quickened. The Day of Three Suns. If we were lucky, then, we were still in time for our information to help. And we could get Ingo home too.

  Hal hesitated. “Listen, I should probably tell you – Vince Griffin is really Mac Jones. I think you’ve met him.”

  “Mac Jones? But—”

  I broke off, remembering my trial. Mac Jones standing there in the by-admittance-only courtroom, shrugging at me with a half smile.

  “I thought he worked for Gunnison,” I said blankly.

  We’d reached a more built-up area. Street lights flickered over Hal’s face: light, dark, light, dark. “He does,” he said. “So does Collie. I mean, that’s their cover.”

  This on top of thinking about Dad felt like too much. I put a hand to my throbbing head and wondered if my brother even knew what a “cover” was – the tasks that both Mac Jones and Collie would have to do in their work for Gunnison.

  “Maybe you’d better tell me everything that Collie’s told you,” I said finally.

  Hal gave me a quick look. “Are you sure, Sis? I mean… maybe you’d better let him tell you himself.”

  “No,” I said. “You do it.”

  It was still dark when we reached what looked like a factory at the end of a lonely road.

  We followed Collie’s auto around the back of the large enclosure. There were several other autos parked there: long, rounded shapes in the moonlight. No lights on anywhere that I could see.

  Hal parked next to Collie. Silence fell as he killed the engine.

  Awake now, Ingo leaned forward. “What is this place?”

  “A furniture factory,” said Hal. “The owner’s a sympathizer. Collie will tell us when it’s safe.”

  Something twisted in my chest. Despite everything, he said it with such simple trust: Collie had always been his big brother.

  Collie got out of his auto. He motioned us to stay put, then vanished inside a dark doorway. A moment later he reappeared, beckoning.

  I hesitated. “Are you sure this isn’t a trap?”

  My brother bristled. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Hal, you can’t blame me for asking.”

  “I told you: he didn’t mean what happened.”

  “Were you there?” I said shortly.

  Hal rolled his eyes. “Well, fine, you can just sit out here in the auto if you want. Think what you like. You always do.” He got out and jogged over to Collie.

  I sighed and opened my door, unsure how we’d already gone back to our usual sibling relationship. Ingo got out too; he took my cane from the footwell and handed it to me.

  “Lena’s the same sometimes,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry about it. How are you?”

  My leg was throbbing. I shrugged as we crossed the brief stretch of pavement, leaning on my cane. “Did you hear anything that Hal said on the drive here?” I murmured.

  Ingo walked beside me, head down, his hands in his trouser pockets. “A little. And I’d be wary too, for what it’s worth.”

  Everything Hal had said felt like a bruise inside me: our father buying dope from Collie’s dad; Collie’s father blackmailing ours; Collie being an informer in Harmony Three and then a spy on the Western Seaboard base. He’d thrown Peacefights right from the start. He’d lied to me every single day.

  Had I ever known him at all?

  Collie stood holding a door open. His eyes rested briefly on my face, then darted away again.

  “In here,” he said gruffly.

  We went down a dimly-lit corridor. Shadowy signs on the doors read things like, Storage 1-A, Sundries, Auth Personnel Only. At Storage 2-C, Collie stopped. “Wait a second, I’ll just check…” He knocked and stuck his head inside. Low murmurs.

  “Amity Vancour?” someone said.

  In a sudden flurry of movement Mac Jones appeared in the lit doorway: a few inches shorter than me, a few years older. Just like the only other time we’d met properly, he seemed bristling with energy, his dark hair rumpled.

  A bemused look crossed Mac’s face as he offered his hand. “Well. This is a surprise. And that’s a hell of an understatement. I’m very glad you’re not dead after all, Miss Vancour.”

  I hesitated. We shook. “Amity,” I said. “And this feels pretty strange. The last time I saw you—”

  “Sure, I get it.” Mac gave a crooked smile. “Well, this is the real me. Or as real as I ever get.” He turned to Ingo – and I liked him better when I saw him control his reaction to Ingo’s face. “Manfred, right?” He put his hand out. “I hear you met Rodriguez in Harmony Five.”

  “I did,” said Ingo as they shook. “I have a message for you…in private. And Amity and I need to show you something.”

  I had the photos from Gunnison’s bomb factory in my coat pocket.

  Mac nodded. “All right, give me about twenty minutes. I’m just wrapping something up that can’t wait. Collis, take care of them, will you, buddy?” Mac clapped Collie on the shoulder. His brown eyes looked sympathetic; I wondered what Collie had told him.

  Mac went back into the room. Conversation drifted briefly out as the door shut: “So, yes, we can get them out but it’s got to be damn quick. Grady’s leaving in—”

  Collie cleared his throat as we headed down the corridor. “Sorry. Everything’s kind of exploded these last few weeks.”

  My fingers tightened on my cane. Please – we couldn’t be too late. “The Day of Three Suns,” I said.

  Collie’s head whipped towards me. “You’ve heard about it?”

  “It’s what our information’s about,” Ingo said. “Well, part of it.”

  Collie fell silent; he looked stunned.

  Hal glanced quickly from Collie back to Ingo and me. “What’s the Day of…” he started, and then stopped.

  We reached a dark break room. Inside, Collie lit a storm lantern. The room filled with a gentle glow at odds with the folding tables and metal chairs.

  “The, um…blinds can be seen from the road, so we keep it dim in here,” Collie said. He pushed a hand through his hair. “Hal, you want to go read a magazine or something?”

  Hal’s face was taut but he nodded and went over to a sofa in the corner. Listlessly, he pulled a magazine from the coffee table.

  Collie leaned against the counter. “Well, I hope your information’s still good, because all hell’s broken loose,” he whispered. “Appalachia’s about to fall. We’re busy trying to get everyone out that we can, while the eastern ports are still under free rule.”

  I glanced at Ingo, thinking of him returning home. “Are you still getting people out?”

  “Just.”

  Ingo’s scar was pulling more harshly at his eye than usual, and I knew how tense he was. “Can the Day of Three Suns still be stopped, if our information is valid?”

  “Talk to Mac. I sure hope so. If we lose Appalachia, that’s it.”

  We. He sounded like he meant it. I found myself staring at him, anger and pain stirring in me. Why couldn’t he have felt this way ten months ago?

  Or was this an act too?

  Collie noticed my g
aze and his cheeks tinged. He hesitated. “Amity, could I…could I talk to you?”

  “Go on,” I said.

  “Not here. Unless—” Collie glanced over at my brother. “Hey, Hal, you want to show Ingo around?” he called. “All right?” he added to Ingo.

  “If it’s all right with Amity,” said Ingo, his voice level.

  As I studied Collie I felt made of stone. Finally I glanced at Ingo and nodded. “It’s all right.”

  After Ingo and Hal left, Collie stood tensely. “Um… there’s coffee, if…” He indicated a coffee pot. “Or soda, if maybe you’d rather…” He trailed off.

  “Just talk, Collie,” I said.

  He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “All right, look,” he said hoarsely. “I know that I don’t have the right to…to say anything to you. But I’m…” He let out a breath. “I am so glad you’re still alive.”

  He wasn’t quite the same Collie after all, I realized: he was a bit broader than before, more muscular. And the vulnerable expression in his eyes made him seem Hal’s age – like the smooth-cheeked boy I’d once kissed in our barn.

  Shaken, I pushed away the memory. I went to the sofa and sat down. Collie followed and sat in the far corner, several feet of space between us. He sat leaning forward, rubbing his thumb across his palm, as if trying to erase his Harmony tattoo.

  “Hal told me everything,” I said.

  Collie swallowed. He looked down and nodded.

  “Thanks for not saying you’re sorry,” I said after a pause. “Sorry doesn’t really cover it.”

  He choked out something like a laugh. “I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” He stared down at his clasped hands. “Look…Hal couldn’t have told you about your arrest, because I didn’t tell him much. But, Amity, I swear it wasn’t like you think.”

  When I didn’t answer, Collie looked at me. His eyes were dark blue in the dim light, full of pain.

  “Please believe me,” he said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  March, 1941

  I headed quickly through the silence of the Zodiac building, the image of Collie burning the evidence still overpowering my senses. I heard his footsteps behind me. He was beside me in an instant.

  I didn’t look at him as I shoved through a side door and out into the night. He took my arm, glancing furtively up and down the street. “Amity, wait!”

  I shook him off and kept going. I heard him swear; he jogged after me.

  “Don’t touch me,” I said.

  His jaw was tight. “Fine. But it’s dangerous for you here. We’ve got to—”

  “There’s no we any more!”

  “Of course there is!” Then Collie sucked in a quick breath. “No.”

  My gaze followed his. My veins chilled. A group of Guns were heading towards us across the Zodiac lawn. Over a dozen of them: their coats a shadowy grey that gleamed in the street lights.

  Before I could move, a spotlight shone on us. I flinched as someone shouted, “It’s Vancour!”

  I turned to run. Collie lunged for me, grabbed me. “Don’t!” he hissed in my ear. “They’ll shoot you!”

  I struggled hard against his grip but he had me tight, arms locked around my chest.

  “Let go of me!” I cried. Approaching shouts. “Let me go!”

  “Shut up!” He sounded desperate. “Amity, please listen! You can’t outrun them – they love having an excuse to kill someone—”

  They were on us, spotlights blazing. I was still kicking and bucking against Collie’s arms. As the Guns surrounded us I sagged slightly, almost sobbing with anger and fear, hating the fact that Collie was stronger than me.

  Then I stiffened as someone I recognized from the telio stepped forward from the group.

  Sandford Cain.

  I stood stricken as our eyes met. He wore a neat grey suit. His nondescript face looked bland, with a small smile tugging at his lips. From a great distance, I realized that Collie had slowly let go of me.

  Sandford Cain gave him a pleasant nod. “Your information is as accurate as always, Reed. She came after it just like you said she would.”

  I stared at Collie. He stood motionless, avoiding my eyes.

  “Yes, I was just restraining her for you,” he said.

  It was his voice. But I didn’t recognize it.

  He still didn’t look at me. I stood trembling, fingernails gouging my palms. Cain gave Collie a pale-eyed smile. “Good job. Johnny will be very pleased. Enjoy yourself?”

  “Not bad, for a Discordant.” Collie took a step back. He cleared his throat. “You boys can take her now. I’m done.”

  “You bastard,” I whispered.

  One of the Guns struck me hard across the face. A muscle in Collie’s jaw leaped, but he didn’t move. Cain jerked his head towards me.

  “You heard what Sandy said. Do it,” he told the Guns.

  They surged towards me. The cold steel of handcuffs bit hard against my wrists. “Come on, Wildcat,” said one. “You’re finally going to get what’s coming to you.”

  As they led me away, Collie didn’t speak again.

  He didn’t protest.

  He didn’t say a word.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  January, 1942

  “I didn’t set you up,” Collie said hoarsely. He sat slumped over on the sofa. “I know it probably looked like that. I didn’t expect you to follow me. Then when I saw Cain…I thought of going back to that place and I…”

  He gazed bleakly down at his tattoo. “But, Amity, I swear to you, it wasn’t only cowardice. Please believe me. I thought…I thought that if I could stay free, keep playing the game, then maybe I could help you.”

  The small space between us was a chasm. For weeks after my arrest I’d told myself that Collie had only been playing along, that he hadn’t really meant to throw me to the wolves.

  There had been no help. After they’d taken me away, I’d never heard from him again.

  “What happened?” I asked finally.

  “I tried. I kept telling Gunnison how great he’d look if he pardoned you. He wouldn’t listen.” Collie rubbed his forehead. “I tried to see you; I couldn’t arrange it without raising suspicion. I was desperate; I…” He stopped, his muscles tight.

  I thought of hiding in the trunk of the auto to enter the country and gave a harsh laugh. “We didn’t actually have any problem getting into the Central States, did we? You’ve got whatever papers you need.”

  He nodded wordlessly.

  “What happened once we got here?”

  Collie’s hand became a tight fist, hiding his tattoo. Finally he said, “They knew I’d entered the country. I had to stay at the Royal Archer because it’s where his people always stay. And I had to meet with them. Pretend I was there alone.”

  “All those times you were gone from our room.” I remembered pacing a trail on the carpet, sick with worry about him.

  Tonelessly, Collie said, “I told them that I’d been with you, trying to figure out who you might have told about Madeline’s information. But that you got suspicious of me and took off. I said you’d seen the documents on the telio and that we should destroy them. That I was worried you’d try to get hold of them. That’s what Cain meant when he…” Collie trailed off, and I knew like me, he was picturing Cain’s narrow smile. She came after it just like you said she would.

  The silence felt absolute.

  Collie dropped his head onto his fingertips. “Oh, hell, Amity,” he murmured. “It all made so much sense to me at the time: destroy the documents so you’d never see them again. Say someone else had done it and then we could escape. Be safe for ever.”

  My grip threatened to shatter my cane. “So how does Mac feel about you shoving the evidence in a furnace?”

  Collie gave a humourless laugh. “When I first told him I thought for a second he might kill me.” He looked down. “I’m not really sure why he trusts me, but…the guy pretty much saved my life. Not that it was worth saving.”

>   “What do you mean, Mac saved your life?”

  Collie fiddled with a cuff. His broad shoulders were slumped. “Skip it,” he said finally.

  I gazed down at my own tattoo, remembering the bite of the needle – the chill air against my naked skin. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you were in a correction camp?” I asked.

  “Because I was ashamed.” Collie’s voice was low. “It felt like proof that I was one of those garbage Reeds. And I was ashamed of…of the things I did there.”

  Melody’s body, falling off the platform. The surge of adrenalin as I’d run for it. Could I really tell myself At least I wasn’t an informer and feel proud?

  I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything.

  The minutes stretched past. “What really happened the night Russ died?” I asked.

  Collie looked down. “Mac’s cover is that he works for Cain,” he said finally. “He had to get my report about Hendrix and my thrown fights. But then he kept me talking, hinting around that some trouble was about to go down for Russ. I went to see if I could find Russ and tip him off.” Collie cleared his throat. “I, um…I guess that was when I started wondering whether Mac was really with the Resistance.”

  I couldn’t keep sitting here. I struggled to my feet and went to the counter. I found a glass and poured myself some water at the sink, trying to hide my shaking hands.

  Collie hesitated, then slowly followed me.

  I spun on him. “Did I ever even know you?”

  “Yes,” he whispered. His fist clenched against his thigh. “Amity…those months with you at the base…they were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “But it was all a lie!”

  “I loved you. That wasn’t. I still…” Collie’s throat worked; he looked down. After a long pause, he said, “I know you don’t love me any more. I don’t expect you to. But…maybe someday I’ll deserve you. And then maybe…” He trailed off.

  I drank half the water at a gulp. I put the glass down; it made a small sound in the silence. I was amazed that it didn’t fly into pieces.