Article 5 (Article 5 #1)(31)

“It’s what they did to you,” he said.

For a fraction of a moment his eyes flickered with pain, and I found myself glad that some part of him felt guilty for what he had done. The mention of the arrest had triggered my hands to fist in anger, and I had been fighting the urge to hit him again.

“It’s a tedious process,” he continued. “It takes a lot of manpower. All records—medical, employment, anything you can think of—are reviewed. Anyone who’s not in compliance with the Statutes is subject to sentencing, or is automatically sequestered.”

“Sequestered?” I felt as if I were talking to a stranger rather than someone I’d known my whole life.

“Put into federal custody. Like you were.”

“What happened to tickets and fines?” I remembered the night we’d received a citation for an old pre-War fashion magazine my mother had hidden under her mattress. “Lewd Materials,” the sheet had said. “Paper Contraband— $50.00”.

“They’re history. No one can pay them.”

I’d complained about this to him when he’d come home from Chicago. I hadn’t at the time considered that this would be the alternative, or that Chase would be a part of it.

We listened to a list of missing persons. I held my breath, but my name was not spoken. Chase’s forged documents had worked. Brock still believed I was on an overnight pass. When the report ended, Chase flicked off the radio.

Dusk was imminent; the sky had already tapered to a dull gray. I sighed apprehensively. We were going to have to look for a place to stop for the night, which meant the hours we could be traveling would instead be spent hiding somewhere just over the Pennsylvania border. It seemed like an insurmountable waste.

A road sign appeared on the right. The white paint stood out in sharp contrast to the metallic background.



RED ZONE

I could feel Chase tense across the cab.

“What’s a Red Zone?” I hadn’t heard the term before.

“Evacuated area. Like Baltimore, DC, all the surrounding cities. Yellow Zones house FBR bases. Red Zones are deserted.”

It struck me just how small my world at home had been.

“This is new,” he added. It was clear from his tone that he hadn’t intended to cross into an evacuated zone on our way to the carrier.

As we neared the sign, a car, hidden behind a tangle of brush, was revealed.

A blue car. With a flag and a cross on the side.

All at once, every nerve in my body screamed danger. We couldn’t stop and turn around, because it was too late. Though Chase was driving the speed limit, the MM highway patrol pulled out onto the road behind us.

A moment later the bar of lights on the cruiser’s roof flashed to life and a loud siren pierced the air.





CHAPTER


6



CHASE swore. Loudly.

My mind raced through the possibilities. Brock had figured out what had happened. Chase had underestimated his time before the MM came after him. We’d been seen together at the gas station.

This couldn’t be happening. We had to get to South Carolina. My mother was waiting for us.

“Can you outrun them?” My question was met with a withering look. “Go!” I shouted.

“Ember, listen. Reach in the bag behind the seat. There’s a weapon in the bottom zippered pouch. Give it to me,” Chase ordered.

I hesitated.

“Now!”

I jerked upright and stuffed my hand as smoothly as I could into the pack.

“Easy,” he cued.

“I know.” Anyone behind us would be able to see through the back window of the cab. My fingers found the zipper. I pulled it aside, feeling something solid and cold rest against my palm.

“Oh…” A knot lodged in my throat.

“Hurry up,” he said sharply.

Very slowly, I pulled the handgun over the seat, hiding it from the window with my arm. I dropped it on the leather between us, retracting my hand immediately. Without the holster covering it, the exposed gun looked lethally ominous. The way it had looked in the woods, aimed at my chest.

Chase must have removed it at the gas station when he’d changed. He hid it now in his belt, beneath his flannel shirt.

“If I tell you to run, do it,” he said. “Go straight into the woods and don’t look back. Do not, under any circumstances, let them find you.”

I shuddered. I’d suspected that I would be thrown back into rehab if I was found, but Chase’s tone scared me. It insinuated something far worse.

My mind was reeling. He wanted me to run. To leave him alone with the soldiers when I was the reason his life was at risk. But I couldn’t have Chase’s imprisonment on my conscience. Not after what I’d done to Sean and Rebecca.

But I had to get to my mother. That was my only priority. Wasn’t it?

“What are you going to do?” I asked as the truck’s speed decreased.

He didn’t answer.

As much as Chase had changed, as much as the darkness in his eyes unsettled me, it seemed impossible that he would consider killing someone. Still …

I snatched the blanket out from behind the seat and covered my skirt. I hoped that the soldier wouldn’t know that my sweater was part of a reformatory ensemble. It looked mainstream enough.