Three (Article 5 #3)(89)

The thin metal clattered against the support beams as I gave it a tug. The toes of my boots were too thick to fit into the small holes, so hurriedly I removed them and tied the laces together so that I could sling them over my shoulder. I ripped the shredded piece off the cuff of my pants and wrapped it around my hands. Then climbed.

The thin chain cut into my toes, but I had a better grip with wet socks than with my boots. Finally, at the top, I gently moved aside the wire and crawled atop it. The coil was stronger than I anticipated, and as I shifted my weight to the top it sprung back and jabbed into my left thigh.

I bit down on my shoulder, displacing the pain. The chain rattled all the way down the fence as I attempted to pull myself free.

The distinct suction of a door opening came from around a nearby corner.

My heart thumped against my ribs. Sweat dripped in my eyes. I threw one leg down, unable to stop the cry of pain as the barb sliced deeper into my skin, then released with a clatter of metal.

I reminded myself that Marco and Polo worked at night, but it wasn’t even afternoon. I hurried down, unable to put weight on my left side. I hoped their recruit, New Guy, was here.

Footsteps came closer. From my peripheral vision came a blue uniform. I dropped to the ground, rolling back into the shadows against the side of the building.

From around the corner came a voice I recognized.

“If you’d have waited five minutes I would have opened the gate.”

*

NEW Guy held open the heavy metal emergency exit door, leaving room for me to duck under his arm. When we were inside and the lock was set, I exhaled, but couldn’t relax around him.

Inside, the room was alive with machinery, buzzing, clicking, revving. A hundred different noises that grated my raw nerves and made me twitch. The printing presses were spitting out neat piles of Statute circulars—my story—onto a black belt that carried them to the back of the room. A sudden urge to read one took me, but I stayed in place when New Guy pointed to my leg with a cringe. The barb that had punctured my skin had torn my pants, and left a sticky red circle on my thigh.

“Looks like you’ve seen better days.” He handed me an ink soaked towel, hanging from a protruding hook on the wall behind him.

He was right. I was covered in mud, still half soaked with creek water and sweat, and bleeding from a half dozen scrapes. With more time I would have asked for a change of clothes and something to eat, but there wasn’t more time.

“When do Marco and Polo get in?” I searched the immediate area, disappointed they weren’t already here.

“Later,” said New Guy with a twitch of his shoulder. “They’ll be terribly disappointed they missed you. What are you doing sneaking in the back?”

“Long story,” I said, speaking loudly over the machines. “I need a favor.” It was a question I’d been prepared to ask friends, not someone I hardly knew.

“On behalf of our mutual acquaintances, I’m sure that can be arranged.”

He seemed genuine. I reminded myself that Marco and Polo wouldn’t trust just anyone—their lives depended on a reliable secret keeper.

“I need to get into Charlotte.”

His chin dropped. “The Charlotte base you mean. The one with the prison.”

“And the special guest visiting this week,” I added. “That’s the one.”

“How are you going to do that? You can’t just walk into a base.”

It was hard to hear him over the machines, so I motioned to the office, but he blocked my way.

“I was thinking you could drive me,” I said.

“Ha,” said New Guy, wiping his brow. “Ha. They didn’t tell me you have a sense of humor.”

“In a delivery truck,” I continued. Like the one Billy jumped inside. “All you need to do is get me in, I’ll figure it out from there.”

“They didn’t tell me you were crazy, either.” Before he could step away, I’d grabbed his forearm.

“Please,” I begged. My loosely laid plan was falling to pieces.

New Guy said something I couldn’t make out.

I leaned closer. “Can we go in the office? I can barely hear you.”

“We just took a shipment a few days ago,” he said in a loud voice. “It’ll look fishy if we show up between shipments.”

“You can tell them you got special orders to deliver now,” I said, desperation leaking through. “I don’t know. Make something up.”

He stared at me blankly.

“Please,” I said. “We need to leave now.”

New Guy’s gaze lifted over my head in recognition of something behind me. My first thought was that more refugees had been deposited here to wait for transport, but as I turned I caught the guilt flash in his eyes and knew.

It had been a mistake coming here.

I bolted toward the office door but was too late. Wiry arms clamped around my waist and lifted me off the ground. My heel made contact with something soft, but though my attacker crashed to his knees with a grunt, I was not released. I screamed in rage, kicking a pile of Statute circulars that fluttered to the ground.

“Someone grab her legs!” New Guy shouted. I threw my head backward, connecting to his nose with a crack. Instantly I was released, but only a second before I was tackled to the floor.

“Get the bag. Get it!”