VALE

I wake up to yelling in the hallway. That’s one thing about this place. Despite the tight control my father and his lieutenants have, there’s always something brewing. The raised voices mix with the thud of a body hitting the wall outside my room.

I sigh and turn over, pulling the pillow over my head to block out the yelling. There’s louder shouting now, with new voices as guards arrive to break up the fight.

Whatever, I’ll get up. I roll over and out of bed and jerk the shade up.

It’s the same sight I’ve seen from this window since I moved up here when I was fourteen.

Wide blue skies, with white-capped mountains in the distance despite the mild June temperatures.

There’s a rumble as the train rolls by the school complex that houses the Forge.

I wonder sometimes about the teenagers who walked the halls of this school just ten years ago.

There’s no organized school in Anchorage now. People homeschool or move out. Most of the territories accept refugees. Some have stricter rules than others. The strictest rules are in the PS, which is the first thing I need to deal with this morning.

Anchorage is a patchwork of different gangs and militias, with other groups mixed in. There’s a whole quarter of artists south of here, and another neighborhood that’s mostly First Nations.

We somehow keep the peace between everyone, despite the black-market weapons that find their way up here. The Forge is a big part of that.

It’s human nature to fight and win and establish dominance, and that’s the best way to keep the peace.

A pride of lions is at peace because a leader establishes dominance, protecting the territory and the resources of the pride.

Humans are like that also, from what my father says.

By protecting the group, being willing to fight and kill, you live as nature intended.

It only breaks down when there’s interference in the system, like what they do in the PS.

I don’t spend much time down there; it’s usually a quick in and out with the new recruits.

Now I’ve got this loose end, Calista Bloome’s daughter out of the PS, possibly on her way up here following her friend.

I’ll need to go down and find Zeph, find out more about Amity and see if there are any leads on her location. If she’s joined up with another group, well, that might be out of our control.

For some reason the thought of her with a rival militia, cozying up to the Brotherhood, has my stomach turning. There’s no reason for her to be anywhere but here, even if she is a spy. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, as they say.

My brain conjures an image of holding her close, my arms wrapped around her, laying her head on my shoulder. I could protect her. Anchorage is not like the PS. She’ll need someone. It could be me.

Down in the cafeteria there’s a low murmur of voices but it’s fairly quiet, even with all the men here. A lot of the work we do is outside. It’s physical, and the guys are hungry. I get a tray of eggs and potatoes and wander the large hall, searching for this guy Zeph.

I see red hair in the far corner and head over. It’s a table of new recruits and Zeph is sitting near the end. I slide in beside him and he nods in greeting. Like all these guys, he looks nervous. I eat a little and then I’m direct with him.

“Tell me about the girl you were with at the courthouse.”

Zeph starts. His face clouds with confusion. “She’s nothing. A friend.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” I ask, feeling tense.

“No, nothing like that.”

I wait, silent.

“I’m not, she’s not my—well, I’m gay,” he tells me.

I nod, relaxing, something like relief sweeping over me. “What’s her name?”

He hesitates. I wait for his answer. I already know the words but hearing them come out of his mouth feels exciting, somehow, and like a complication.

“Amity Bloome. Her mom is a big MAV leader. ”

I know that, of course. But I don’t remember this guy from that MAV group. He must have met her after the Integration. “So you’re friends. Was she also interested in leaving the PS? Involved with rebels?”

Zeph laughs. “Amity is, like, a poster child for the PS. She understands there are problems, but she thinks she can change them from the inside. Yeah, right,” he adds, more to himself. “I think she was going up for HighClear actually, that’s what she said.”

HighClear, that’s interesting. She would have gone off to the Institute with the other soldiers in training.

“From what I know,” he hedges.

“Any chance she could have been deported?” I ask.

Zeph laughs again. “Amity? No way. She’s barely been out of Baltimore.”

“Could she be following you—trying to catch up with you?” I ask him.

Zeph hesitates, considering. “She’s…loyal. And I think—worried about me. I did sort of ask her about refusing the Oath and coming along…but no.” He shakes his head. “She wouldn’t.”

“She was spotted on a depo train in New York,” I tell him, finally getting to the point.

“Amity Bloome?” Zeph’s surprise is so genuine I can’t imagine he’s faking it. This guy is still a baby, refused his Oath just a few days ago.

“You just said you suggested she refuse her Oath. Is it so unbelievable that she did?”

“Amity is…” His face softens. “Dedicated. Maybe she changed her mind,” but skepticism clouds it again. “But sh e’s so innocent. I told you, she wouldn’t last a minute on her own.”

The anxiety that has been plaguing me deepens. “But she was there, on the train. She came to the Forge car, and bought a phone under the table.”

“That couldn’t be her.” He shakes his head again.

I pull up the picture on my phone. Zeph’s eyes bug out, and he holds it close to his face.

“Yeah, that’s her. Aw, her hair.” He’s sad, but long hair is pretty much a symbol of matriarchal oppression down there. “She cut her hair.”

“Yeah, man. She cut her hair, she got herself a phone, and she was asking about you. Did you tell her you were coming to Anchorage specifically? Did you talk about our group?”

He thinks. “I might have mentioned it. I trust her.”

“Could the PS have sent her?” I ask. “Could she be spying for them?”

“Amity? No offense, but she would make a terrible spy.”

“Well,” I grit my teeth. “We’re trying to locate her in Anchorage now.”

Zeph stiffens. “She’s in the city? Alone?”

“She was traveling with someone, another deportee, from what they said,” I tell him.

“God, Amity.”

“You’re the one who suggested she come,” I say, annoyed that he’s acting so worried that she apparently took his advice.

He sighs. “I didn’t think it through. Is she going to be safe?” he asks. “Can you find her? ”

“Yeah, we’re gonna find her. Do you have any idea where she would go? Who she could be with?”

He shakes his head slowly. I’m tired of this guy already.

“I’ve known Amity forever, she’s…really na?ve.”

“Okay, you’ve got nothing to go on. I’m going to find her, and we’ll touch base about this again. Everything you just said better be the truth. And if she is undercover for the PS it’s a situation that will need to be…handled.”

Zeph’s eyes shoot to the side and he says nothing. I shove my chair back and drop my empty tray off at the kitchen before heading to one of the storage rooms.

Not everything around here runs smoothly, but the rooms where we store weapons and supplies are kept in order by the guys who are ex-military. They’re pretty good at that sort of thing.

I’m going to start down at the market. Show her picture around, see if anyone’s seen her. I don’t need to be heavily armed, but I still grab a Glock and holster, pulling a jacket over top. I sign out the ammo, chatting with the guy on duty, and load the gun up.

I have my phone. I have cash left from the trip. The market is down on Spenard, and I can walk there. It will give me a chance to get out of this building.

I grab my baseball hat on the way out and pull it down low, giving me cover. I don’t stick out too much, but people recognize me as Isaiah Adamson’s kid and I don’t want word to leak out that the Forge is after this girl in case it scares her away.

I’m ready. I head down one more hallway, pushing the metal door open into the blinding sunlight, and walk down the road to the market.