Rebels Read online

  I wash down by the stream when I’m a good distance into the hills. I don’t want to draw Vider’s attention to me with my smell as soon as I enter the Valley. His gift of heightened senses is acquainted with my scent, so I rub rosemary on my arms and legs after I’ve bathed.

  I need to remain stealthy when I enter the Valley. Move in. Do what I came here for and move out. Undetected. And as quickly as possible. But I can’t control the whole mission or whether I get the compliance I desire, so I’ve got to be as careful as possible to cover my tracks. To keep my presence secret.

  When dusk finally creeps over the Austin sky, I sneak into the Valley, slipping between shadows, intent on arriving at my location before its resident does. I hope to surprise him. I’m longing to see that look on his face when I do.

  ***

  I’m nestled in the silk upholstered armchair in Zack’s bedroom for over an hour before I hear him enter his house. By the sound of his many attempts I’m guessing he’s not used to the lock yet. It’s well after nine o’clock. A late hour for working and returning home, even by Reverian standards. He’s been pushing it.

  My legs are draped over the side of one of the arms of the chair and my back tucked into the other corner. The cushion of the chair is welcome after the long, fast ride. However, I hold my muscles at the ready. Zack could have a guest. Maybe he was out late for a reason. With someone. Nona says Zack picks up Dee, my older sister, every Saturday night. My younger sister, Nona, also says Zack looks convincing enough that she’s starting to think he actually likes Dee, although that’s impossible because he still has a soul. It’s Monday though. I’m guessing he’s been working.

  I’d grown bored waiting for Zack to arrive, so I’d fallen asleep in the armchair, but not before inspecting his new home. The one he was assigned along with his new occupation when he came of age. It may be small, but the details speak to Zack’s reputation. Silk drapes hang in his windows and velvet graces the upholstery of his furniture. The travertine tiles I tracked mud across in the kitchen downstairs are even nicer than the type in my old home. The house is perfectly laid out and has more than enough room for Zack, and a little room to grow into.

  The door in front of me swings open. The chair I chose is in the corner, behind the entryway to his bedroom. With a tired sigh he throws his suit jacket on the bed and strides into the bedroom, loosening his tie.

  Three months feels like too long as I watch him move. Watch his fatigued body try and fail not to bang into his four-poster bed. He slips the tie over his head and tosses it with his jacket. All his movements reek of exhaustion. Still, I’ve never been sympathetic enough to him not to take a perfect opportunity like this to scare him to death.

  “Zack, have you turned into a barbarian without me here?” I say.

  He spins around, shock dripping off his face. His chest rises and falls with nervousness and then slowly calms as his blue eyes take me in, realizing I’m not a crazed criminal about to knock him out. Dark circles hang under his stunned eyes. His pale face looks as though he hasn’t seen sun all summer. And then his mouth forms a relieved smile that brightens a face I’ve sorely missed.

  “Your jacket’s going to be a mess of wrinkles,” I say, waving at his bed where he threw it.

  “Em,” he says in a croak, running his hand along the side of his head, knocking his gelled-back hair slightly out of place.

  “Surprise,” I say, uncrossing my legs and popping out of the chair.

  “You’re not supposed to be here for a month. What are you doing?” he says, crossing to the windows and closing the drapes, a look of worry on his tired face.

  “I’m not here for the mission. I just need to retrieve someone and then I’m leaving.”

  “Wait. Did you say someone? You mean Nona? She told you she wasn’t ready to leave.” Zack doesn’t look concerned anymore, he looks perplexed as he studies me.

  “Not Nona.”

  “Then who? And where is Rogue?”

  “I left him at the house,” I say. I should have realized there wouldn’t be any sweet reunions with Zack, not while there’s a dozen questions plaguing his brain.

  “Em, what’s going on?”

  “I need to speak to Parker. Can you help me with that?”

  At the mention of the doctor’s name Zack tenses. He’s the one who gave me the injections for three years. He’s the main reason I’m here.

  “Dr. Parker? Why?” Everyone else calls the doctor by his title, but long ago he asked me to just call him by his last name to make things less stressed between us.

  I’m about to tell Zack why I need Parker’s help, and then his eyes drop with worry. Not just worry. Devastation. His gaze swivels down to my midsection. “Em, are you pregnant?”

  “Gods no!” I say too loud. “It’s not for me. It’s for Rogue. I need Parker to come back with me. I need him to help Rogue.”

  “Why, what’s wrong?” he asks, a calculated concern in his voice.

  I sigh. Being face to face with Zack suddenly makes me ache with vulnerability as I think about what brought me to the Valley. “We don’t know, but the meds don’t work like they used to. His headaches have turned debilitating and it’s not like I can take him to just any Middling hospital,” I say.

  Right before we escaped Austin Valley three months ago, we’d secured a supply of medicine we thought would end Rogue’s headaches, like they always had before. But they haven’t.

  “So, that’s why you’re here? To get Dr. Parker and take him back to Rogue?” Zack asks.

  “Yes. I’ll come back in a month when you and Nona have everything ready.”

  Zack nods, but his movements tell me a different story. He’s nervous. Disoriented.

  “Look, I realize you’re tired,” I say, taking his hand and pulling him to a seated position on the bed. His hand is tentative in mine. Almost jerking from my hold. “I only need you to bring Parker here so I can speak with him. That’s easy, right? Then I think I can convince him to help Rogue.”

  With tired eyes, Zack gives me a skeptical stare. “Tell me more about Rogue.”

  “Well, he’s mostly fine, but has headaches two or three times a day,” I say.

  “And the meds? You said they don’t work like they used to.”

  “I should have been clearer. They don’t work at all.”

  “Maybe they’re the wrong ones?” Zack says.

  “Maybe.” I shrug

  “But Rogue came into the Valley before,” Zack says. “Why isn’t he here now? Why doesn’t he come and see Dr. Parker himself? It would be much easier and safer.”

  I stall a second too long. I’ve never lied to Zack and it feels all wrong, but with that insistent look on his face I force the rehearsed words from my mouth. “He’s too weak. He can’t dream travel, let alone make the journey here.”

  “What?” A new burden shadows Zack’s face.

  I rush forward with my words. “I have to convince Parker and take him to Rogue as soon as possible.”

  Zack nods at once, only a tiny expression in his eyes indicating the fear I sense he feels from what I’ve just shared. “Okay. I’ll bring Dr. Parker here tomorrow evening, after work. That’s the soonest I can do it.”

  I nod, a solemn one, although inside I’m bounding with joy that he’s so compliant.

  “But Em…” Zack’s tone makes my breath pause.

  “What?”

  “It might be more difficult to convince Dr. Parker to do what you need him to. The Reverians here, some of them, I’ve learned, are harder to turn against President Vider. I haven’t tried, but Nona has and he has them under something like—”

  “Mind control,” I say, completing his sentence. I remember from leeching my father’s telepathy and being in Vider’s head. President Vider controls people through his words. He’s persuasive, and manipulates people into thinking that serving him is serving the gods he constantly references.

  Zack gives me a sideways glance. “Yes…” he says slowly. �
��You already know about this,” he says, no question in his voice.

  “Yes, and I think I have an idea of how I can break the control. Just bring Parker to me and I’ll work on the rest.”

  Zack nods, a strange look in his eyes as he pins his gaze on the antique dresser against the wall. He looks somehow lost, removed from this conversation.

  Finally, he says, “So other than the headaches, are you and Rogue all right? There’s no other reason you’ve returned? Nothing new?”

  “We’re fine. Really fine,” I say with an unabashed smile.

  “That’s good,” Zack says dully.

  “I can’t believe you thought I was pregnant,” I say, playfully slapping his arm.

  “Well…” His voice shakes a little with what I guess is nervousness.

  “Well, it’s an absolute impossibility, so there,” I say, sticking my tongue out at him.

  “Really?” Zack’s tone brightens an ounce.

  “Yes, really. It hasn’t been like that.”

  “But you’re in love with him, aren’t you?” he asks with a weirdness in his voice. It’s such an abrupt question, but coming from my best friend, it shouldn’t be strange and yet it is. Zack and I never talk about relationships. Not really.

  And somehow the words naturally rush out of my mouth at once. “Gods yes, I’m in love with him. Unbelievably so. I’d walk to the end of the Earth for Rogue,” I say, so excited to finally have another person to explain my adoration to.

  “A simple yes would have sufficed,” Zack says, a coldness to his voice. He stands up from the bed and turns, looking at me.

  “What’s your problem?” I size him up, a little at the edges and then really search his eyes. Creases mark his forehead, red rims his eyes. The new job working for my father has really taken a toll, but I remind myself he’s doing it for me. For the rebellion. For the Rebels.

  “Nothing. I’m thrilled for you two. It’s only—”

  “That you have to pretend to be in love with Dee and wish you could be with someone you love,” I say, cutting him off.

  He gives me a pained smile. “You know me so very well. And yes, but that’s impossible for me.”

  “It’s just because you’re playing a strategic game for power.”

  “No, that’s not the only reason,” he says, his voice sounding haunted.

  I stand up from the bed, a strange nervousness humming in my chest suddenly, a restlessness in my limbs. “It’s good to see you,” I say, centering on him.

  He stops, regards me with a sweet sincerity. It doesn’t last long. It’s only one piercing stare and a smile. Being with my best friend right now is a gift after these long three months. I’m used to seeing Zack every day and when I didn’t for so long I realized how much I missed his quiet and critical presence in my life. I don’t even care that he’s in the process of crossing his arms in front of his chest, I rush into him. Throw my arms around his shoulders. Hug him.

  “I missed you,” I say into his crisp white shirt.

  He hesitates and then his arms wrap around me, pulling me into him. “I missed you too.”

  I’m the first to let go. For as standoffish as Zack is acting, he seems to desperately be in need of comfort. I back up only a foot, peering up at him with a catlike expression. “I’m sorry for breaking and entering,” I say. “Are you mad?”

  Zack shakes his head. Stares at the bamboo floor. “No. I love that you always rebelliously try and gain my attention,” he says, no smile in his voice. For as long as I can remember I’ve pestered him to play with me, knocking at his bedroom window too early on a Saturday morning. And before Rogue disappeared he was usually right beside me.

  “That’s a relief, because I’m probably never going to stop,” I say, throwing a fake punch into his arm.

  “Good,” he says flatly. There’s something so sad in Zack now. Something so different from months before. Maybe I demanded too much by asking him to stay here and scout for information. Maybe I burdened him with more than he can handle, or more than he wants to. I can never tell with Zack. And he won’t tell me if I ask.

  “There’s a guest room—”

  “I know,” I say, holding up a hand. “I already explored your house while I was waiting.” I grin, adding, “Sorry if that was crazy, but congrats on the house and job.”

  “Thanks,” he says, his voice mechanical.

  “Aren’t you happy about it?”

  “Yeah.” But then Zack shrugs, contradicting his reply.

  “What? Do you not like this house? It’s beautiful.”

  He looks around at the intricate detail of the crown molding and stucco walls. “It’s fine. It’s just hard to enjoy it.”

  I sense a loneliness in Zack so deep, like the well on Rogue’s farm. “Why?” I challenge him. “You worked hard for this. Most newly placed professionals aren’t assigned a house this nice. My father must really have given you a prestigious position.”

  “No, it’s not prestigious, but it is a position with a lot of upward mobility,” Zack says. “And yes, I would have been proud of this before I realized it was given to me by a corrupt government.”

  “Oh, that’s why you can’t enjoy it…”

  “That and other reasons,” he says, his eyes edged in a new pain, one I don’t understand completely.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, almost beg.

  “You must be tired,” Zack says, ignoring my question. “I’ll help you get settled.”

  I lay a hand on his arm. “No, I’m good. You look like you’ve had too many meetings with my father today. You rest. I’ll find my way.”

  I turn away from Zack’s discouraged eyes. I want to talk to him, to counsel him until he unburdens all the weight on his shoulders, but he’s too tired for that. He needs to rest and I should too, although I have no desire to be still when there’s so much to do.

  I’m cuddled in the sheets of Zack’s guest bed within minutes, imagining that the pillow beside me is Rogue. He’ll have figured out that I’m gone by now. He’ll have found my note. And hopefully he’ll merely make a mess of the barn, taking his anger out by throwing things around. I could dream travel and check on him, but that feels too much like spying. And I doubt he’ll dream travel to check on me since he won’t know where to find me.

  Chapter Three

  Two minutes. That’s how long I attempt to rest. The mind-numbing torture from my guilty conscience won’t allow my eyes to close. That’s fine. I’m here to work anyway. I slip out of Zack’s guest bed and take off down the hall and out of the house.

  Austin Valley is silent right now. All Reverians, both Dream Travelers and Middlings, are snuggled in their beds. All sleeping. I actually parted from Zack right before curfew. Hopefully he had plenty of time to slip on his sleep cuff, which would tell the government that he is indeed sleeping and not dream traveling to far-off fantastical lands. What would happen if everyone in this valley realized all they were missing? Would they run away as I suspect? Or would they do what I’ve done and return, looking for solutions I think only Reverians can provide? I worry that too many are like me and don’t have the authority to find the solutions on their own. If so, then we’re all screwed because we need a lot to fix us and the answers aren’t all to be found within our borders. However, half the population doesn’t even know there’s a problem, so first things first. Expose the problems. Find solutions. Then fix. That needs to be the order.

  I slide through the shadows, like I did on my way to Zack’s house. I’m careful to keep my presence out of the bright overhead lights. I learned much of my stealth from watching my sister Nona sneak around. She moves like a cat, silent but graceful.

  Within minutes I arrive at the apartment building and find Ren’s door. Shiny brass numbers stare back at me as I muster my courage. Finally I knock. Brace myself. He’s going to be mad. No, not mad. Livid. It’s two a.m. My father used to tell me people were most vulnerable at night, worn out by the day’s affairs. I hope that’s true and wo
rks in my favor right now.

  The click of his hand on the door knob makes me reflexively straighten. I’m grateful there’s no peephole because if Ren knew it was me then he’d definitely not open the door. As my uncle, he should grant me extra courtesies, but we don’t have that kind of relationship. Actually, we hardly have a relationship since I only met him three months ago.

  The door opens two inches. Sleepy green eyes spy me through the crack. I bolt against the door and move past Ren’s offended stare and into his apartment.

  “In God’s name, what is your problem?” Ren says with a raspy growl, his British accent more pronounced probably due to his tiredness. He’s wearing dark green pajamas and his usual spiky red hair is flattened to his head in places.

  “I have a whole host of problems, which is why I’m here,” I say with my hands firmly planted on my hips.

  “Oh yes, I’ve heard about you and your problems,” he says, slamming the door shut. “You’re an outlaw. Are you offering yourself up for reward money? ’Cause I’ll happily turn you in.”

  “Not a chance,” I say, stalking into his dark apartment and plopping down in the only armchair in the place. Nothing has changed since I’d been here a few months ago. Still bare bones. A stack of books does sit in the corner, but not much else.

  He flicks on an overhead light, his eyes instantly squinting from the sudden brightness.

  Ren regards me with deserved contempt. “Leave,” he says with a snarl.

  “Not yet,” I say, holding up a hand to him.

  “Need I remind you that I can call your daddy and tell him you’re pestering your dear old uncle in the middle of the night? Then he’ll cart you off to ‘Create-a-Middling-Ville’ or whatever sinister places he’s created under the control of the big bad wolf.”