Three (Article 5 #3)(29)

“With respect, sir, they may not have much time left. We haven’t been able to make radio contact in days,” Chase pressed. For the first time in a while, Jack agreed with him.

“We’ll discuss it tomorrow.” The finality in DeWitt’s tone was clear.

As the others rose and followed Will, I helped Rebecca to stand.

“Actually, I’d like to discuss it now,” said Chase. I braced against the frustration in his tone, aware of those around us who’d stopped to watch. We were hardly in the position to make demands. “And I want to know how you know about me, too,” Chase finished.

Rebecca squeezed my elbow.

DeWitt chuckled dryly. “Why don’t we take a walk? The three of us.” He tilted his head in my direction.

“Where are you taking them?” Rebecca asked warily.

“Just for a walk,” assured DeWitt. “They’ll rejoin your people soon.”

He turned without another word and headed to the long corridor that ran the length of the school.

Just a walk. I could manage that. Maybe he’d found a radio for us, although I wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t just come out and say so. From what we’d seen, neither DeWitt nor his people posed a threat to us, and this might be the perfect opportunity to figure out what exactly was going on.

A quick squeeze of Rebecca’s hand, and Chase and I followed. Sean was scowling, watching the events unfold from his place on the opposite side of the table.

We came to the main hallway, lit by torches mounted to the walls at intervals, but instead of turning left toward the front of the building, DeWitt made a right. In silence, I followed him over the yellowed, peeling linoleum, waiting with growing anticipation for him to explain why he’d asked me to come along. The windows here had been blocked by planks of wood, but through the cracks I could see that dusk had come.

The hall curved slightly and we came upon two armed guards dressed in beige tunics like DeWitt, with loose pants. They gave him a formal nod, then stepped aside.

The north wing, I realized. Entry was forbidden without council approval, but I wasn’t convinced it was just because the weapons were stored here, as DeWitt had claimed. The armed surveillance seemed a little excessive. I passed the guards, trying to ignore the familiar dread I felt around MM soldiers. These were the good guys, even if they did look similar.

“I’ll ask you to keep what you see here confidential,” said DeWitt, standing before an old classroom, also guarded by a man with a rifle.

We nodded.

He pushed through the door, and my mouth fell agape at the walls of radio equipment—it was tenfold what we’d had in Knoxville. Machines beeped and thrummed, attached by wires to what looked like car batteries, all bound together in the center of the room. Two women and three men wearing headphones sat in front of various machines, reading monitors and adjusting dials.

“What is…”

“Perfect timing.” I was interrupted by one of the men, in his early thirties with a sharp nose and deeply set eyes. He ripped back his headphones. “I got him, sir. He’s on another frequency this time. That makes four channels and counting.”

DeWitt strode over to him quickly and pressed a button on the switchboard.

Static, and then Tucker’s voice, muffled, despite their superior radio equipment.

“Mayday. Mayday. If you can hear this, clear the area. Roanoke, Virginia, is under FBR control. Do not attempt to evacuate to the safe house. It’s gone. I repeat, the safe house is gone.”





CHAPTER


8


I FELT the blood drain from my face. Beside me, Chase had grown still.

“The family in Knoxville, Chicago, and Virginia are gone,” Tucker continued, and I twitched as he referenced the resistance under the One Whole Family banner used in MM propaganda. Even though the signal was weak his tension was obvious. “My team was hit this morning in Roanoke. We lost four. Half are injured, six are missing.”

Static.

“You know this person,” said DeWitt.

I nodded, frantically trying to process what Tucker had said. Who had been killed in the fight? The carriers? Truck from Chicago?

“Our radio was damaged,” Chase said. “We’ve been in contact with them until today.”

“Well he’s telling everyone what happened,” a tech said. “With the tower we have access to most underground frequencies, and he’s working his way up the ladder.”

I recalled the crooked pole emerging from behind the north wing.

“The MM can’t hear him, can they?” I asked.

“No,” said DeWitt. “He’s still using an old frequency. One the Bureau doesn’t monitor anymore.”

“If you’re still out there, we could really use some good news.”

Now I had the distinct impression Tucker was talking just to me. The seconds ticked by. If Chase or I didn’t respond soon, he was going to end the transmission.

“His name is Tucker Morris,” I said. “He’s looking for us.”

DeWitt scowled at the receiver. Across the room, a woman with unruly auburn curls pushed a red pin into a map of the states. I tracked her hand to a location in western Virginia, and found another in Knoxville, and still another on the coast, in South Carolina. All places the MM had destroyed. Three more pins were scattered across the Midwest.