Three (Article 5 #3)(39)

“Where are you going?”

I cringed as Sean approached, right arm hanging in a sling against his chest.

“How’s your shoulder?” I muttered.

He bit his lower lip, as if to hide a smirk. “It’s incredibly uncomfortable, thank you for asking. Remind me not to ever pick a real fight with your boyfriend.”

I closed my eyes and sighed, imagining how that scene had played out.

“I’ve got to go find Chase,” I said.

“I’ll go with you.”

“No.” I glanced back to Rebecca. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

Sean placed himself in front of me, dipping some bread into a bowl tucked in his sling and stirring it around.

“They’re watching us,” he said. “That shifty kid that served the soup, he’s been following me all day.”

My gaze drifted over the tables in search of Will, but I was unable to find him. Everyone was distracted by the meal; it was the perfect time to take a walk. But before I could a tall, shadowed figure cut through the crowd, searching through the sea of faces until his eyes landed on me. My breath did a little hitch in my throat as it always did at Chase’s slow smile, but automatically my gaze lowered. He wore the same hand-sewn outfit we all did, though I hadn’t noticed this morning that the pants stopped short around his calves, revealing a band of skin between his boots and the hem.

I smirked, forgetting the rest of the world for a moment, and then covered my mouth with one hand.

“I think it’s time you moved up to the big-boy pants,” said Sean as Chase approached. He was met with a dangerous glare.

“Funny. That’s the first time I’ve heard that today.” Chase shook his head at me, then playfully pinched the ticklish spot on my side. “Not you, too.”

“I think you look cute,” I said.

“Cute,” he repeated, as if I’d just called him something really terrible. He leaned down and kissed me—the kind of kiss that made the world tilt on its axis—and I gripped his shirt so I didn’t fall over.

“Right,” I heard Sean say somewhere beyond the rushing in my ears. “Thanks for making me a part of this.”

Chase drew back slowly and I pulled away, unable to look directly at our friend. My lips still tingled. He seemed different today. Something about this place was changing him, maybe even healing him. He smiled more easily, and for the first time since Chicago I didn’t sense that thoughts of Harper were waiting to drag him under. He needed a purpose, and Endurance was giving him that.

“You guys haven’t seen my uncle, have you?” Chase asked.

I shook my head, thrust back into the present as quickly as I’d been flung out of it. At once I recalled everything that had happened while Chase and I had been apart. We needed to talk.

“I thought he joined up with you,” said Sean.

“He did.” Chase scratched the back of his head. “But he disappeared right after. Thought maybe he’d say good-bye first.” He chuckled dryly, but it was obvious he didn’t think the situation funny. I placed my hand in his and gave it a light squeeze.

Rebecca joined us, frowning.

“Something’s happened.” She nodded toward the concrete corner where Billy had staked his claim. A small group of people had gathered around them—mostly survivors, but others from Endurance as well.

We headed toward them, joined by others as we passed the rest of the serving tables. Soon the music faded, and those that had been dancing joined the pack.

Chase grabbed my hand and pulled me through to the front to where Jack sat on the bench of a picnic table, head in his hands. Billy was standing on the seat beside him adjusting the dials on an old radio he held against his chest.

“What’s going on?” Chase asked.

“They’ll play it again—it’s run on two different channels already,” said Billy, biting off the words. I remembered what the tech had said about boosting the signal with a tower and wondered for one alarming moment if Billy had connected with Tucker.

He clicked a switch at the top of the radio, eliciting a loud screech that made the back of my jaw light up. A second later the crackle of static, magnified off the patio, gave way to a familiar woman’s voice.

“… Reinhardt, who made his first public appearance this morning after surviving the attempt on his life in Region 414 last month, told reporters that measures have already been taken to crack down on domestic terrorism.”

A short crackle came from the radio, and then another voice, this one male but softer, almost delicate, came through.

“The president has deemed Reformation to be the highest priority of our country, and I for one will not rest until that goal is achieved. Those who oppose progress shall be dealt with quickly, and without mercy.”

Beside me, Rebecca gasped.

“The Chief of Reformation,” she said. “He visited the hospital in Chicago once.” Sean pulled her close under one arm.

“The chief reported that the individual responsible for the handmade bomb, delivered to him in person at a fundraising dinner, is still at large, but that all available resources will be dedicated to bringing him and his associates to justice. To demonstrate his seriousness, Chancellor Reinhardt has signed execution orders on fourteen suspects thought to be in collaboration with the rebellion, and released the name of one Thomas “the Truck” Rhodes, a known terrorist out of Chicago, who was executed this morning at the Charlotte Prison.”