them on the floor. I frown. “You said some drifters were harmless. They need them more than I do,” he says. He tugs on the backpack’s drawstrings and throws it over his shoulder. We stand facing each other. After today, we probably won’t get many more moments alone, but I can’t think what to say.
Jude calls up from the road, and Ronan looks at the window, then at me, and finally at the door. He fiddles with the straps on his facemask. “Come on,” he says.
Outside, Jude Caffrey looks me up and down and sighs. “Bea Whitcraft . . . I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“You mean you didn’t
“No. No, I probably didn’t,” he says. “But here we are.” Jude stuffs his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth. He looks at my disheveled appearance and then at Ronan. “Sorry I couldn’t get here yesterday. Things are hectic in the pod.”
Ronan shrugs. “You’re here now. I wondered whether you’d come at all.”
Jude allows himself a small smile. “You sure you want to come back?” he asks me, and I nod. “If the ministers get a hold of you, you’re in deep shit,” Jude says. “We’re
“They won’t find her,” Ronan says, leading me to the buggy. “Take the front seat,” he says.
And sit next to Jude for an hour? I shake my head. “I’ll be fine in the back,” I say, and climb in.
Soon the buggy is bumping along the road. None of us talk for a long time. And then Jude turns around and looks at me. “Quinn is alive, isn’t he?” he asks. “You wouldn’t make it up.”
I’ve never heard him speak like this—with feeling for his son.
“He’s alive,” I say. “And he’s coming.”
35
RONAN
The pod has plenty of exit-only doors so rebels can be ejected. Jude guides Bea to one of them, where she waits in the dark.
Jude and I enter through the official border gates.
A steward is scrolling through a pad. When he sees me, he stops. “Welcome back, Mr. Knavery. I’m sure you did your best,” he says. He looks at his colleague and smirks.
I’m so tired, I react immediately, resting my index finger on the hollow of the steward’s chest. He steps back and I follow him, keeping my finger where it is. “Be careful.”
His nose twitches. “I only meant—”
I interrupt. “I know what you meant.” He looks at his colleague. I could easily sidestep him. I decide not to. “Move,” I say, and he does.
Jude is close behind. We clamber into the waiting buggy. “What does that girl do to people?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Bea Whitcraft turns boys into men.”
Every few blocks there’s a checkpoint, but the stewards only have to catch a glimpse of Jude, and wave us through. “Security hasn’t been relaxed then,” I say.
He snorts. “Nightly raids on auxiliary homes began two days ago. More speed cameras, and there’s a call to ban auxiliaries from Zone One altogether.”
We pull up in front of the Justice Building. Jude climbs out of the buggy, and I follow him up the steps into the foyer. A gaggle of ministers squint when they see me. I’m the first of the Special Forces to return.
“Have you heard from any of the others?” I ask Jude. “Has Rick knifed anyone yet?”
“He radioed in and told me that he’s about to rappel down a well because he’s convinced he can hear people.” He laughs. “I get a feeling the others will be back soon. Robyn knows she’s out there for nothing.”
“She’s as disillusioned as I am,” I say.
“You’re not to involve her in what we’re doing. The more Premiums who know, the more chance we have of being betrayed.”
We scan our pads and walk down a hallway lined with doors. The light bulbs flicker. A moan comes from somewhere, and I stop. Jude keeps walking. “We’ve made over thirty arrests since you’ve been away. Suspected RATS mostly. That’s a hunger pang you’re hearing,” he says.
“Why are you starving them?”
Jude stops. “The ministers believe they’ll talk when they’re hungry. Your sister comes down daily to goad them with smoothies and cakes.”
“My sister?”
“She’s working as Lance Vine’s assistant. Seems to be enjoying it.”
I can hardly believe it. Niamh has taken a job?
Jude pushes open a door marked
“And that’s exactly what they’re going to get,” I say. I make it sound easy, though it will be harder than anything I’ve ever done. “Have you advertised for soldiers?”
“We’ve had hardly any applications. The lure of living with the other civic workers in Zone Two doesn’t attract anyone anymore. Not now they suspect what’s going on.” He scrapes his hair back with his fingers.
“In a few days, you’ll have hundreds of applicants. Maybe thousands. Bea and I are going to find what’s left of the Resistance and explain the plan. They’ll get people to sign up.”
Jude chews on his thumbnail. “I’m endangering my family,” he says.
“But you’re already involved.” I raise my voice without meaning to and Jude puts a finger to his lips. He can’t back out now—we need him. “You’re harboring a wanted terrorist.”
He looks at Bea and hangs his head, defeated. “I know,” he says.
“Where’s Jazz?” Bea whispers.
Jude rubs his temples. “She’s recovering in the infirmary.”
“And her leg?” she asks.
“She almost lost it, but she’s okay.”
“Did they question her?” I ask.
“She said she was a drifter’s daughter and her parents died at The Grove fighting the Resistance. She claims to hate the Resistance for killing her parents. She’s quite the actress.”
Bea laughs and we both look at her, surprised by the sound. “She’s a performer,” she explains. “Can I see her?”
“I don’t think so,” Jude says. He opens a metal locker in the corner of the cell. He pulls out a steward’s uniform and hands it to Bea. “You’ll have to wear this,” he says.
“We also need to find a way to keep the Resistance who are on the Ministry’s hit list out of jail,” I say.
“Old Watson will know where they are,” Bea says.
“Who’s Old Watson?” Jude asks. Bea presses her lips together and inspects the steward’s uniform. She isn’t ready to trust him.
He rolls his eyes. “Where are we hiding you, anyway?” he asks.
“We’re taking her to my house,” I say.
36
ALINA
