Breaking Point (Article 5 #2)(62)

He was crouched near my feet, watching me, never turning to glance at anyone else. There was just enough light to glint off his eyes.

“He knows,” I said weakly. “How did Harmony’s brother tell you?” Harmony, our friend from school, came slowly to mind. Long dark hair, almond-shaped eyes. I wondered absently if she was still dating Marcus Woodford.

“He joined last Thanksgiving, remember?”

“I remember. He’s playing both sides?” I pictured Marco and Polo.

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “Kind of. He’s not supposed to talk to Harmony, isn’t that crazy? But apparently he can talk to me without breaking the rules. Anyhow, he followed me home one night and wanted news about his family. I told him I would tell him if he’d tell me what they did with you.”

“You must have freaked,” I said.

“Was it your friend’s brother that told you to start a checkpoint?” Chase asked, diverting the conversation.

She glared at him, still angry.

“He doesn’t order me around,” she said stubbornly. “If anything, it’s the opposite. He wants to know about his family, he’s got to help me out.”

It occurred to me that Beth had no idea that she was playing with fire. If Harmony’s brother tired of her blackmail he could instantly turn the tables and send her to rehab or worse.

“He told you about the carriers?” I asked.

Beth nodded. “He told me about this guy in Chicago that takes people somewhere safe, and sent him this top secret radio message.”

“Beth…” I started, feeling the sudden urge to throttle her. “What you’re doing is really dangerous. Seriously.”

She cast me a hurt look.

“She’s saying the soldier could turn you in if he wanted,” explained Chase. “And if he knows about the safe house, and gets enough pressure from above to talk, a lot of people could die, not just you.”

“Die?”

It was as if she’d never considered that she could be killed. I felt very sorry, and very worried for her just then.

“What did he tell you about the safe house?” I asked.

Beth was frowning now.

“Nothing besides a guy comes and takes you there. He came last week and tagged your house all up with spray paint, I hope you don’t mind. He says all the places like this have that on them. He calls himself Truck ‘’cause I drive the truck,’” she quoted in a manly voice. “Stephen heard from someone at the soup kitchen where … where your mom used to work that I’d opened shop here.”

She leaned forward and whispered, “He’s got a warrant. For an Article Three.”

Article 3. Whole families are to be considered one man, one woman, and children. I could still see the Statutes we read over and over in the reformatory as though they were right in front of my face.

I looked into Beth’s puffy eyes, and all of a sudden everything—all my fear for her, and the anger at how na?ve she was being, and the relief at seeing her, but also the crushing disappointment that she wasn’t who I’d wanted her to be—collided into one big black pit inside of me. It festered when I thought of how stupid I’d been, fooled into thinking my mother was still alive. How once again I’d thrown Chase and myself into the eye of the storm for the same na?veté I saw in Beth.

She was chewing on her lower lip, and flipping the flashlight from hand to hand.

“It was my idea to go by your mom’s name,” she said. “I figured since Lori was already … I figured it couldn’t do much harm since she wasn’t going to be coming back here. She was always so brave. It’s like she wasn’t scared of anything.” She hiccupped, then wiped her eyes again. “I figured this place could be, like, dedicated to her or something.”

Before she could say anything further, I scrambled up off the floor and escaped down the hallway toward my bedroom.





CHAPTER


14





“GO back to bed. This is between your mother and me.”

He stood over her—this man she’d said would complete our family. His shadow blanketed her body on the floor, where she was trying to pull herself up by one of the dresser drawers. When she saw me standing behind him, she gave a small, pained gasp, and covered her cheek with both hands.

She was too late; I’d already seen the mark.

Somehow, I was beside her, helping her up, telling myself she’d fallen. That was all. It was an accident. My mother didn’t let anyone hit her. My mother was the bravest woman I’d ever met.

And then it was tearing through me, all the rage and disappointment and disgust.

“Get out.” I blocked him as he reached toward her, already apologizing for the red welt on her cheek, and the tears that made it glisten. I jumped up and snatched the lamp, hefting it over my shoulder. “Get out!”

“Ember, stop it.” My mom was standing now. “Go back to your room.”

I couldn’t believe she’d said that.

“You know I’d never hurt you.” Roy’s voice broke. He put his hands on his hips. He started crying.

“You did!” I screamed.

His shoulders bobbed as he cried, but I had no pity for him. Only relief as he walked out. The front door slammed, rattling the pictures on the wall.