Renegade (The Elysium Chronicles #1)(43)
“I think Mother said something about using this for the refugees from Three.… There’s two trails.”
Even though my heart trips again at the mention of Three, I’m able to count two heartbeats during the silence and I swallow hard. Gavin’s hand clenches on my back. It sounds like they’ve stopped right in front of the door.
Please let them fall for the trick. Please. Please. Please.
“You go that way. I’ll keep following this one.”
“Sure, boss.”
I wait until the sound of their footfalls trail off before taking the chance and leaning back against the wall.
Gavin leans forward to whisper in my ear. “Where did you go? I was worried they had found you.”
“I created that second trail. It would seem kind of strange that a much thicker trail started right at the door, wouldn’t it?”
“Smart thinking. Next time, warn me, okay?”
“Of course. Where did you lead them?”
“I found another service door, like the one I came in from. I thought it might be another exit, but it’s just a closet.”
I hear the Guards’ footsteps returning and signal for Gavin to stop talking.
The Guards pause a few meters from where we are, probably where the trail splits.
“Didn’t find them either?”
“No, the trail stops in a restaurant’s cellar. You?”
“Ended at a storage closet. Nothing in there but service supplies.”
“Mother can’t be serious about moving the refugees here. It would take weeks to get this place cleaned up enough to be livable.”
Their voices trail off as they walk back the way they came.
Gavin stands and holds his hand out to me. “Now what?”
“Now we wait and see if it’s a trap,” I say, letting him pull me to my feet as I take a closer look at the room we’re in.
“What did they mean about refugees?”
“Oh. Sector Three”—there’s that stupid flutter again—“has a leak or something. They’re probably just taking precautions in case it gets worse.”
He wanders around the small room while I go to the one and only lab table. I trail my hand over the dusty microscope.
“Why are there so many weapons here?”
“I don’t know. Only Guards and Enforcers are supposed to have weapons.”
“Is this where Mother keeps them, maybe?”
I look at the stack again. They’re piled neatly by type, but they’re all dusty and don’t look like they’ve been handled in years.
“I don’t think so. Mother has a strict policy on keeping weapons in top condition. I doubt she’d ever let them get this dirty.”
He goes over and kneels in front of the stacks, while I go to the desk to see if there’s anything there that might suggest an escape route. I don’t think I’ll find anything, but it never hurts to look.
The top is empty, but the rest of the drawers are filled with old-fashioned writing utensils. There’s even some kind of book in the top right drawer. “Eli” is engraved on the gold plate located on the cover. The leather binding creaks as I open it, the paper quietly crinkling with each page turn. “Look what I found.”
“What is it?” Gavin says, coming to stand behind me.
I flip through the book and scan the pages for relevant information. “It looks like a journal of some sort.”
Gavin quietly reads over my shoulder, but I’m reading so fast he can’t keep up and just rests his chin on me instead. His breath warms my neck, which makes my own breath catch. At first I’m not sure if it’s from the fact that he shouldn’t be touching me, but then I realize I’m enjoying it, even though I shouldn’t be.
It’s distracting, but I don’t want him to move, so I make myself concentrate on the letters in front of me and not on the tingles running from my shoulder, where his chin rests, to my heart.
At first it’s just a bunch of entries about the inventions the writer—Eli?—came up with and how. Then there are a few entries about the epidemic that killed half the Citizens. I remember that from my classes about the importance of hygiene and making my monthly medical appointments.
Then there are a few entries about how he was trying to convince someone named Abby—Mother?—to hire someone from the Surface to develop a device to prevent another outbreak.
02.08.30–1000
It seems that Abby has taken my advice and hired an expert from the Surface named Ms. Lenore Allen. She is to arrive this evening. I know Abby isn’t happy about it with her distrust of all Surface Dwellers—but even she can see the logic of it after that epidemic. We need something to protect what’s left of our population. Abby may be young, but she’s smart. Her father’s daughter.
02.08.30–2345
I’ve met with the engineer from the Surface. Lenore’s qualifications are beyond reproach and I dare say perfect for this task. Lenore’s ideas are simply fantastic. Turning the Surface military tech into something to save people instead of harm them? Brilliant, I say! Abby has asked that I work with Lenore myself (and to keep an eye on her—she still doesn’t trust Lenore), and it’s my privilege to do so. I’m certain we will work well together and I find myself excited to be working alongside such a brilliant woman.