Chapter Thirty-Eight

Delaney

When the cloth was finally removed from my eyes, the light was blinding. I had no idea where we were, except that wherever it was, it was unnaturally bright.

"Well, well, well," someone said. "Look who came to join us."

I would have recognized the voice anywhere, though I'd only heard it a few times before. Suddenly, I was fighting back an intense feeling of panic. I threw myself forward, but found that I was restrained. When my vision finally cleared, I saw that I was in a small, nondescript room with two doors. It was sparsely furnished, with only a metal table and stool for furniture. Trai and Abby were standing a few feet away, blinking furiously. All of our hands were still secured behind our backs, except now, the cuffs were also chained to the wall.

"It's very nice to see you all again."

I shrank back at the sound of the voice, just then noticing the man standing by the far wall, his back to us and his hands clasped behind his back. His left wrist rested carefully on a handgun in his back pocket, and though it was small, there was no doubt that it could do some serious damage.

Leary turned around slowly, a sinister smirk spreading across his features. He looked much the same as he had during our first—and only—encounter with him, though perhaps slightly more threatening.

"Leary," I murmured fearfully.

"Correct," Leary praised, nodding. With his eyes darting and unfocused and the sadistic grin on his face, he didn't seem entirely sane, and I, admittedly, was afraid of him. Maybe it was just because I was in handcuffs, and he had a gun in his back pocket.

I hated guns.

"What are you going to do with us?" I demanded. I was trying to sound strong and assertive, but my voice came out weak and helpless.

"What do you think?"

I narrowed my eyes, swallowing back a terrified squeak. "How should I know?"

Leary chuckled and sat down at the table, lacing his fingers on its surface.

"You'll find out soon enough," he promised mysteriously. I shuddered. "But first...I'd like to speak with the three of you about Nessa and Perfecta."

"What about them?" Trai questioned, after a wary glance passed between us.

It took Leary a moment to answer, and when he did, his voice was low and dangerous. "Despite their attempts at secrecy, I know what the two of them are planning. Nessa and Perfecta may believe that their conversations with you went unnoticed, but they are sadly mistaken."

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant despite my furiously pounding heart.

Leary's eyes glinted dangerously a he slapped his palms down on the desk surface. "Did you think I wouldn't hear your conversations? Did you think I wouldn't read the email you sent? You were affiliated with the Pro-Inferiors before, and old habits die hard. I know that there's a rebellion looming on the horizon. I'm not an idiot, children."

"Yes, you are," Abby muttered under her breath.

Shaking his head, Leary said, "Your attitude is unimportant to me. I just want to know Nessa and Perfecta's plan. The exact plan, in perfect detail."

"Wait a second," Trai interjected, leaning forward against his bonds, "you said I, not we. Haven't you told Miracle about your—er—suspicions?"

Dr. Leary's wide eyes flew from side to side. "Ah, you see, I didn't want to worry her. She has a hunch that they're planning something, but with the ceremony at hand, I thought it'd be better to let her focus on more important matters."

I snorted. "Isn't that a little irresponsible?"

"How so?"

"Well, assuming you're right about this...rebellion, Miracle is at risk. If you're the only one who knows what's going on, she'll be taken by surprise, and no one will be able to defend themselves." I tilted my head. "Was that really the smartest decision?"

Much to my surprise, Leary chuckled. "That's why you three are going to tell me the details, so I can stop the problem before it even manifests."

The three of us glanced at each other, obviously thinking of the sparse instructions we'd be given. I scuffed the heel of my sneakers on the concrete floor.

"Sorry," Abby sneered, "but we don't know anything. We can't help you, so can we just get on with this"—she waved a frustrated hand—"punishment stuff?"

Raising an eyebrow, the doctor leaned toward us. "How do you not know the plan?" he demanded, spewing flecks of spittle into the air in front of him. I saw his hand move toward his gun.

"We’re not the ones who came up with it," I cried quickly, without thinking.

For a moment, it was silent. Then, suddenly, Leary began to laugh. I jumped at the sound. "Stupid little girl," he choked out, "you just gave yourself away!"

My heart sank as I realized he was right. "Way to go, Delaney," Abby muttered meanly.

Leary removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes, still cackling. I stared at him balefully, wanting with every bone in my body to kick that self-satisfied grin right off his ugly face.

"Now that I know you're involved," he said, abruptly becoming serious, "I want you to tell me exactly what Nessa and Perfecta are planning. And if you don't, well..." He took the gun out of his pocket and laid it on the table, letting that action speak for itself.

I unconsciously drew back against the wall.

"You look so scared," Leary taunted, rising to his feet, gun in hand. "If you cooperate with me, I won't have to use this little thing." He cradled the weapon in his hand. "But just in case you have any thoughts of defying me, let me tell you a bit about my friend here. This is a semi-automatic Merit Z100 pistol, a new model that hasn't yet been released to the public. It's 150 millimeters of pure steel, loaded with AP bullets made of foolproof tungsten alloys. AP stands for armor piercing. In case you don't understand, that means that if one of these bullets so much as grazes across your arm, your skin will be ripped to shreds."

With a calm look, the doctor shook a single bullet out of the magazine and twirled it between his fingers. When dwarfed by his hand, the small silver capsule looked small and harmless. But I knew that, when fired out of pistol at 2000 feet per second, it could be deadly.

The corners of Leary's lips turned up as he glanced down at his lethal weapon. "I do hope we understand each other," he said.

Caleb

I watched as Carlie came to a stop a few feet away from the previous couple, her hand linked with Stevie Jackson's. Her eyes darted around, and for a second, before she regained composure, I could have sworn she looked nervous. Based on what Nessa had told me about the girl, nervous was not something Carlie Heights was ever described as.

"From Freeline High School in Chicago, Hazel Swanson and Shaun Reed," Miracle was already continuing, a serene smile on her face. Hand in hand, the boy and girl mounted the stage and took their places behind the Seattle candidates. There was a flash of light as their picture was taken, presumably by a news crew from their city.

After that, I zoned out, staring at the wall through my surprisingly clear shades as the introductions continued. Miracle must have called the remaining names fairly quickly, because by the time I turned my attention back to the situation at hand, all one hundred candidates were standing on the stage. How they managed to fit, I had no idea.

Miracle cleared her throat and tapped lightly on the microphone in front of her.

"These young men and women have been determined exceptional to their peers," she said. "They are talented, remarkable human beings. They are one in a million. They are the minority. But with our government training program, we hope to take this small population of particularly special people and induct them into government jobs. These careers will provide them with an environment of similar minds, allowing them to exist with others of their stature and also to hone their Superior capabilities.

"Please give our candidates a round of applause," Miracle finished. The room erupted into calm and balanced applause. I clapped along absently, my eyes roving over the candidates' faces.

Miracle continued speaking, describing an interesting, beneficial, and completely nonexistent training program that the candidates would allegedly undergo over the course of the next few weeks. Shaking my head, I picked at a loose thread on my pants on counted the dots on the tile floor. When I was far away from Miracle, it was so much easier to be disgusted by her lies.

Eventually, the candidates were dismissed to mingle with the Superiors and get a feel for the atmosphere. The second they left the stage, however, a group of journalists rushed up to them. Each kid was whisked away by a microphone-bearing reporter.

"At this time, everyone is invited to enjoy the snacks prepared by our very own chefs here in the Capitol," Miracle told us. Around me, people began to rise and amble off to the food-and-drink-laden tables against the wall. Not wanting to stick out, I moved with them, my mind elsewhere.

Checking the touchscreen watch strapped to my wrist, I saw that it was about a quarter to noon. My instructions had been to get downstairs to the tunnels by twelve o'clock, and I was cutting it close. But I had to be very careful not to do anything to alert Miracle of what was about to happen; she was already suspicious. Somehow, soon, I had to sneak out. Thankfully, though, with the crowded room, that wouldn't be too hard.

"Excuse me," someone said in a snooty tone, all but shoving me out of the way. I saw that it was one of the candidates: a tall, fiercely beautiful girl with cropped black hair and amber eyes.

"Oh, sorry," I muttered, edging away. She shouldered past me with a roll of her eyes, and a jolt of anger flared inside me. Who did she think she was, acting so arrogant here? Not only was it rude, but among the Superiors, that kind of behavior was dangerous.

Just as I was about to give the girl a piece of my mind, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I whirled around, but there was no one there. With narrowed eyes, I scanned the crowd, and after a moment locked eyes with my brother. Or at least, I think we met eyes, because he nodded at me discreetly from behind his tinted shades before going back to his conversation with a smiling reporter.

All around me, people were moving about calmly, interacting as if there was nothing unusual. Don't you know? I wanted to shout at them. Don't you know your entire world is about to turn upside down?

Eyeing Miracle, who was talking to Charisma across the room, I fiddled with my watch. Suffice to say, I was nervous. There were so many uncontrollable variables, and so many things I didn't know. And if a single thing went wrong on my part, the whole plan would be ruined.

Christopher brushed past me again just then, giving me a pointed look, and I nodded quickly. Turning around, I grabbed a water bottle and juggled it between my hands. The digital face of my watch read 12:50. I pressed my lips together. I had to get a grip; it was nearly time.