Page 40

AMITY

Rather than go through the house and get sucked into another home improvement project, we cut through the side yard.

“Ami,” Ren calls, hurrying off the porch. I brace myself to say no to more window hanging, but they gently pull me aside and slip something into my hand.

“What’s this?” I feel a small piece of paper, folded twice.

“My brother’s name and the name of the camp,” Ren whispers to me.

“Ren—” I start but Ren cuts me off with another whisper.

“I’ll be honest, kiddo. I have a bad feeling about this.” Their eyes sweep up my girlfriend clothes. “If something happens and you don’t come back, if you end up back in the PS...well, he needs help. If there’s anything you can do...” they trail off .

I gaze at Ren steadily, thinking they may have guessed more than they let on this whole time. Then I swallow.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours, Ren,” I assure them and try to hand the paper back. Ren pushes my hand away.

“Ami, please, I’ve tried to help you. If you have the chance?—”

“Of course,” I reassure them, giving Ren a quick hug. “If I have the chance to help him, of course I will.”

I turn and Vale is waiting. Without comment he turns south, away from the Forge. I follow, glad for my boots at least, and that it’s warm enough I’m not shivering in this outfit.

When we get out to the main road, it’s still bright outside. The sun hovers over the horizon. Vale holds his hand out. I take it and we hold hands. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, his backpack slung on his back. I’m in this get-up trying to figure out the trick to walking in a skirt.

There’s a car waiting by the side of the road and Vale heads straight for it.

It’s one of the old cars they have up here, with an engine that makes a lot of noise.

It smells too, the exhaust. This one is shiny and black.

We slide into the back and a man I’ve never seen before is driving.

He and Vale exchange a glance and the car starts.

I settle into my seat, not sure what I should say in front of the driver, who Vale has not introduced.

“Your seatbelt,” Vale says to me quietly.

“Where?” I check around. He’s looking at something behind me.

“Put your seatbelt on, Ami,” he grumbles. The driver turns a sharp corner and I slide on the seat, leaning to regain my balance. It’s different from the slow, self-driving cars and e-buses back in the PS. I poke my hand down around the seat, feeling for a safety belt.

Vale blows out an exasperated breath and scoots over in the seat, right next to me, his leg pressed against mine. Then he reaches over me.

“Vale,” I protest and press my back against the back seat of the car. His face comes closer and closer to me. I can’t stop thinking about the kiss, but I notice the driver’s eyes are flicking to the rearview mirror.

Vale grabs something next to my ear, pulling a strap across my body and under my other arm. There’s a clip next to my hip that he grabs with his other hand and he clips them together. Then he takes my hand.

“This button releases it,” he says, touching my fingers to the clip.

I roll my eyes. Clearly .

“All safe now.” He sounds pleased.

A little shy to look him directly in the eye, still hovering over me, I half close my eyes and watch him in my periphery. He tugs the belt once, twice. I’m strapped in tight now. Then he moves back to his side of the car. When I glance over, he’s still watching me.

“You need to wear your seatbelt up here,” is all he says. The man driving is glancing curiously in the rearview mirror but Vale says nothing else, only reaches over to take my hand again. Is he nervous? His hand is warm in mine. My stomach growls and I realize I didn’t eat dinner.

The car turns onto a crowded road. There are lots of cars and trucks waiting in line, and people grouped everywhere.

A crowd, in clusters, is waiting to go through a door.

Most of them are men but I see a few women scattered around.

I’m glad Vale brought these clothes for me.

I would have stood out in my other stuff.

The girls are dressed like me, in dresses and skirts.

I cringe a little. They look so helpless.

How can they defend themselves in these outfits?

I shudder, thinking that the women up here seem so vulnerable, there’s no other way to describe it.

They don’t look strong; it’s like they don’t train at all.

I think of the weightlifting classes back home, the hours with the swim team.

My mom says our Peace is not a product of weakness, that women had to become strong enough to demand it. It’s for these women I need to follow through with the orders from the PS, even if it means I won’t see Vale again.

When the car stops I fiddle with the seatbelt. Vale opens his door while I’m untangling myself.

“Sit tight a second,” he tells me.

So I do, wondering why he’s out of the car and I’m not. I hug my purse.

My door opens and it’s Vale reaching in, holding out his hand, and I take it.

He pulls me out and it reminds me of a scene from an old video.

He holds my hand tight, poking his head in to say something low to the driver before shutting the door.

The driver leaves and we are standing on the sidewalk outside the tall brick wall of a building.

Vale pulls me closer, tucking me under his arm.

“Here we are. We’ll go in, look around, get you something to eat, and relax for a bit.” He glances at his watch. “It’s not even midnight.”

I nod tightly and focus on my job. I need to watch out for any danger we might be in, and I need to copy the other girls .

Next to us the line snakes down the block. I see girls tucked under men’s arms as I am. I mimic their body language. A little timid, a little wary, eyes down.

Feeling the shift, Vale turns, speaking into the hair hanging around my face.

“Good,” he murmurs. He leads up to the line at the door where a couple of large guards stand, along with a tan, blond man with a distasteful expression on his face. The man wears a gun strapped to the front of his shirt and I look everywhere but at the gun.

Vale has one I think, and knows how to shoot. But after everything MAV went through, my family went through, it’s crazy to see the gun casually there. Like my grandmother and all the other martyrs’ deaths mean nothing. It only strengthens my resolve.

Vale will be okay. I’ll get the laptop and get it to the PS. That will keep Greater Maryland safe from whatever the Forge is planning. Vale can go back to whatever he was doing before this.

I might as well enjoy myself. I cuddle in closer, squeezing his waist.

The blond man interrupts my train of thought.

“Hey, man. Thanks for coming.” He reaches forward a hand and Vale clasps it with his free hand. Then they’re stuck in the handshake. “Didn’t know if I’d see you here, Adamson.”

“Jeremy. Here I am,” Vale says in a harder voice than I’ve heard him use.

“I didn’t hear back,” Jeremy says, fishing for information.

“My girl wants to celebrate,” Vale says, giving me a squeeze, “so here we are.” The blond man’s eyes slide up and down me. It’s gross. I imagine his body crumpling, stunned by CSOs.

Behind our conversation, the guards are scanning phones and watches, letting people in.

“And who’s this?” The man, Jeremy, steps closer.

“This is Ami. Ami, Jeremy,” Vale says smoothly.

I go against my instinct and shrink back, pretending to be intimidated by Jeremy. “Nice to meet you.”

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” Jeremy says, his eyes lingering even as he turns to enter the building.

We duck through the door after him and it’s crowded. There are people everywhere. Loud music thumps, the bass vibrating through me. I stay close to Vale and let him lead me through the crowd.

There’s a lot of movement on the other side of the room where people are dancing and a live band is playing music on a roughly built stage.

The ceiling seems impossibly high—maybe this was an old warehouse before the Integration?

The walls are rough brick and it’s huge.

Already I’m wondering about being on the roof, four or five stories up.

Vale remembers I’m hungry, so our first stop is a table covered with a spread of delicious-looking food.

“Fill it up,” he directs, handing me a plate.

“I intend to,” I tell him.

When the plate is full I hold it carefully with two hands. Vale’s arm is still wrapped around my waist, and he leads me toward a door on the side of the room. We push through another crowd and duck out the door.

There’s an old, fenced parking lot with tables and chairs and benches out here.

The sun is a deep brilliant gold, just starting to set finally, and the sky is washed over in fiery orange.

Vale pulls me over to a bench. Before we get there a man comes up to us and tries to start a conversation.

Vale dismisses him, telling the man he has to take care of his “girl.” Once we’re sitting on the bench, Vale sighs.

“You can talk to him if you want to,” I tell him. “You don’t have to ‘take care of’ me.”

Vale laughs. “I don’t want to talk to any of these idiots. They’re just trying to get information on the Forge. They’re watching us, trying to figure out why I came tonight.”

“Is the Forge having a party for the solstice?” I ask.

“Not this year.” Vale’s face is masked.

That’s right, they’re getting ready to move, so maybe they don’t have time to throw a party. Another man sidles up to us.

“Hey, Adamson, how’s it going?”

“Get out of here,” Vale grumbles, his patience breaking. “I’m busy.” The man startles and with an apologetic look Vale scoops me up and into his lap. The man gives him a knowing grin and slips off.

“Vale,” I complain lightly, laughing.

“Just eat your food, Ami.” He ducks his head next to mine. “This might give us a minute of privacy.” He ducks lower and his lips brush against my ear, by accident. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I tell him. “He left, so...should I get off?”