Page 67

M atias strolled up to the desk, walking right past it as though he owned the place.

We all watched from around the corner, just out of sight of the security station.

Our view of the desk itself was a little obstructed, but we had clear sight of the giant barred gate that separated the desk from Cellblock C, which is exactly where Matias went, standing in front of the gate as though it should open for him like an automatic door.

It took a second for the guard to notice him.

His head looked up from his computer, and then he looked around, completely confused, before he stood up.

“Hey,” he called to Matias.

Matias casually turned around, putting his arms out in a what’s up fashion.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as he walked around the desk toward Matias.

“Paul told me to come up here and switch with you.” It was a random name. I had to hand it to Matias…he never got tripped up under pressure.

“What?” The guy stepped closer to Matias. “Who the hell is Paul?”

Whelp, nice try…

Jim shot out from around the corner, stunner already in hand, and fired.

The electrical pulse shot out and zapped the guard, who shuddered for a moment and then fell to the ground in a heap.

We all turned the corner and came to join Matias while Blondie took her position as lookout, monitoring the hall we just came from.

Wes grabbed the man’s keycard and took off his tab while Jim grabbed his duct tape and started taping the guard up.

I ran behind the desk and watched the TV screen.

The black and white images showed pictures of several rows of cells, but the hallways looked quiet.

I grabbed the mouse and shifted my attention to the computer monitor.

The guard was apparently bored because he was in the middle of a virtual game of Stallion.

I clicked out of the game and started rummaging through the files.

Matias came over to stand by my side, hand on the desk as he leaned in close to look at the screen. “Anything?”

“Nope,” I muttered as I scanned file titles.

“Any day now, Telvian,” Blondie groaned from her lookout point.

I ignored her. I needed to find the prisoner manifest. Knowing what cell Jacob was in would significantly shorten our time in this place and reduce the number of other inmates who would see us.

Wes and Jim finished tying up the guard and dragged the body behind the desk, tucking him under my feet. It was incredibly annoying since I was still trying to figure the computer out. I almost snapped at them to back off, but I bit my tongue instead and focused on the task at hand.

“Let’s go, de la Puente.” It was Wes. Gone were the gentle tones, all replaced by a bite that felt like a stab to the heart.

I was de la Puente now, not Mara. Just de la Puente …

another member of the team. Another soldier he was responsible for and needed to order around.

It hurt. But despite how much it hurt, it also made me bitter.

“You’re not helping, Calvernon ,” I snapped back, emphasizing his last name. The energy shifted, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught Blondie eyeing us while Jim shifted uncomfortably. Matias, as he always did, remained calm, placing a tender hand on the small of my back.

Feeling the gentle pressure, I inhaled deeply, and then sighed, letting go of the frustration. Then I doubled down, searching for the manifest, clicking on several more folders until finally, I found it.

“Here it is!” I said a little too loudly. Blondie shushed me, but no one else dared to tell me to be quiet. I scanned the document.

“Which one is he?”

My eyes scanned name after name, column after column of Telvians whose lives were thrown away in the tower, never to be remembered again.

And the thought occurred to me…how many of these people really deserved to be here?

How many of these people were just District 3 citizens who spoke an ill word about the Telvian Council or refused to follow an unjust command from a REG officer?

How many of these people were Dissenters?

And suddenly, I wanted to save them all.

To open every cell and give each person a chance at freedom.

But I couldn’t. The chaos would only draw more attention to the tower and the twenty or thirty soldiers at the chokepoint across the land bridge would be on all of us.

Plus, there was no way these people could escape the way we came.

There weren’t enough harnesses, and the desperation would only lead to fighting.

And that broke my heart even more. “There’re so many of them,” I whispered under my breath as I scanned each one.

Matias’s voice was in my ear, soothing. “I know, Mara. But stay focused. Where’s Jacob?”

I took another deep breath and continued to scan, trying my best to squelch the sorrow I felt for each of these forgotten souls. I scrolled down, bringing up the last page of the document, and read through the last three columns of names.

“We’re going to get our asses caught,” Blondie whisper-yelled. “This is taking too much freaking time!”

My jaw dropped, my heart sinking into the pit of my stomach as it roiled. “Oh my god,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“What is it?” Matias asked. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s…he’s not here.” The words left my lips as despair filled me. All of this…we had done all of this to discover that he wasn’t here.

“What do you mean, he’s not here ?” Wes snapped.

“I mean, he’s not here ,” I spat back through gritted teeth. “As in, he’s not on the manifest. He’s not in this effing cellblock.”

“That’s impossible,” Matias began. “Maybe you just missed his name or something.”

“I didn’t miss his name,” I shot back. “He’s not here.”

“Then where is he?” Wes said hotly, brows furrowed as his eyes bored into mine.

“I don’t know!” I did not like this attitude from him. He was starting to remind me of the Wes I first met back at the rebel camp, and I so did not want that guy invited to this party.

Jim stepped forward, putting himself between us. “Whoa, chill out! Someone’s going to hear you guys.”

Wes glared at Jim before turning away and walking toward Calista. She was quick to place a consoling hand on his back, muttering god knows what to him. I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears of hurt, anger, and frustration that were threatening to fall.

“Hey,” Matias whispered. “It’s going to be okay,” he repeated to me. “Can you see if there’s any information about him being transferred?”

I wiped the single tear that came down my cheek with the cuff of my shirt.

“Yeah, let me see if there’s a prisoner transfer record or something.

” I went to work, scanning the remaining files, before deciding that they were a lost cause.

I shifted gears, searching for anything that looked like a database for the tower, and clicked on a promising option.

It brought up a new screen with a search bar.

Typing in my brother’s name, I gave a silent prayer.

The cursor switched to a spinning circle, letting me know the system was processing my request.

Please…please let him be here.

The circle kept spinning, and every time it spun, I felt my chest tighten a little more, the anxiety climbing. I tried to breathe, feeling a knot forming in my throat as desperation reared its ugly head, and then the cursor stopped twirling. A new screen popped up, showing a picture of my brother.

“Here it is,” I said with a sigh of relief as I scanned the document. My eyes glossed over the words, trying to understand what I was reading. “He’s here,” I said, my heart skipping a beat. “He was transferred to level four to some surgical ward.”

“A surgical ward?” Wes took a step closer.

“It says they moved him yesterday to another cellblock. He was scheduled for some sort of procedure.” I was confused. Why the hell was he scheduled for a medical procedure?

“Did he get hurt or something?” Jim asked.

“I highly doubt Raúl’s going to provide medical treatment to an inmate he scheduled for execution,” Blondie sneered.

“Well why the hell would he—”

“Hush,” Wes snapped. “What’s the deal, de la Puente?”

I gritted my teeth. I hated him calling me that. Not even back at the rebel camp did he ever refer to me by my last name. But I tried my best to ignore him and stay focused on figuring out what the hell Raúl was doing with my brother. My eyes scanned the words…

Prisoner to be modified with NIT-V2…

Modified? What the hell did modified mean?

“Mara?” Matias prodded.

“It…it doesn’t say. It just says he’s being modified with something.”

“When?” Jim asked.

“Earlier today.” This was crazy. What did they do to him?

“Where is he now?”

I swallowed, feeling my anxiety climbing. “In the surgical ward on the fourth floor. He’s under observation.”

“Observation?” Matias ran his fingers through his air, his unease reflecting my own. “What the hell does observation mean?”

“I don’t know!” I snapped. Why did everyone think I knew what the hell was going on? I might be Raúl’s daughter, but I dissented months ago. And it wasn’t like Raúl ever told me about any of this crap anyhow.

“Hey!” Blondie called. “We’ve got incoming. That guard’s mini-tab from the yard is lighting up. If they haven’t figured out he’s missing, they’re going to.”

“We’ve got to go,” Wes ordered. “Now.”

I quickly glanced at my brother’s observation room number, and then we bolted as fast as we could, heading back to the stairs. But my stomach contorted with unease. Something happened. Raúl did something, I just didn’t know what it was. But I had a sick feeling I was about to find out.