The Drafter

Silas’s hands clenched so hard on his water bottle the cap cracked. She was chemically tagged? What the hell was he supposed to do now? They were using her, blatantly using her to get to the alliance. Cold flowed through him, and he ran a hand under his cap, scanning the moving people for black suits and sunglasses. “This is really bad,” he said softly.

 

“So I take a low-dose of barium syrup to mask it,” Peri said, her eyes narrowing as her confidence wavered. “Or wear a tin hat. It isn’t anything we can’t work around. Opti doesn’t know I’ve broken their memory implants.”

 

Which was exactly what she would say if she really was working for Opti to bring the alliance heads in on a platter. Silas’s chest began to hurt. Fran had told him Peri couldn’t be trusted and to bring her in for “retirement.” He didn’t want to believe it. He wouldn’t.

 

But then Peri jerked to look behind her at that recently vacated chair. “Ahhh, shit on a shingle,” she whispered.

 

It had to be Jack, and a slithery feeling crept through his spine as she watched something that wasn’t really there. “What is he saying?” he whispered.

 

Peri’s eyes scanned. “That something is wrong and I have to go. I’m tending to believe him. Thanks for the hot dog. It was nice. Which way to the car?”

 

She stood, and he rose as well. “Uh …,” he said unintelligently. But he had no plan, no thought other than to take her and go. And with the chemical tag, the alliance was doubly out.

 

Peri looked him up and down, his fear feeding her own. “I gave you Jack’s list. You’ve got what you want.”

 

Silas’s brow furrowed, and he took her elbow. “What you brought us wasn’t Jack’s list.”

 

Her face went white. “Yes, it was. It had to be,” she insisted as the music blared. “It was on my cat. His collar is the only thing that survived my apartment.”

 

Silas shook his head. “It was a listening device.”

 

Her lips parted, and he saw her world fall apart in the sheen of her eyes. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “They heard everything.” Her eyes shot to his, panicked. “They know everything we said! That I’m lying to them!”

 

A part of Silas was relieved. She was afraid. She was telling the truth. “No they don’t,” he tried to soothe her, but her arms were stiff under his hands. “The unit was damaged. You said you got it off your cat. Well, those things can’t take being outside for long. Opti hadn’t had a chance to change it out. They didn’t hear us, but Peri, it wasn’t the list, and the alliance won’t trust you.”

 

Peri’s wandering attention came back to his. “They’ll never believe me,” she said, and his fear swelled when he saw her new determination. She was going to run. She was going to try to do this on her own.

 

“I have to go,” she said, pulling away from him.

 

“Where?”

 

“I don’t know,” she said. And then she simply walked away.

 

“Peri!” he called, but someone had cut in behind her, and he had to wait. In three seconds, she was gone, out the way she’d come in.

 

“Move!” Silas pushed past the man on the stair, ignoring the angry protests as he shoved through the tight inflow of people. Peri’s slim form slipped gracefully past the throng like water while he was more like the rock everyone else was crashing against, but finally he was through the crush and in the cool underbelly of the stadium.

 

“There you are,” he said, spotting her weaving through the crowd to an exit. He saw her note the two men at the exit gate. They were in suits and lacked the park’s lanyard identification, and she smoothly turned and went the other way.

 

Shit. She was in flight mode, and he lurched after her, calling her name when he caught up to her so she wouldn’t overreact.

 

“What do you want?” she rasped as he touched her elbow and she spun, shocking him with her wet eyes. “I don’t need an anchor. I don’t need anyone.”

 

“You’re right,” he said as he brushed a finger under her eye, and she moaned and turned away. “You don’t need anyone,” he said, pulling her to a stop again. “But that doesn’t mean you need to be alone.”

 

Lips parting, she let that spill over her, her shoulders losing their tension and her eyes showing her heartache. “I don’t want to be alone. I want to sit in the sun and eat another damn hot dog. I want it to be done, Silas. I want it to be done!”

 

“We can figure this out.” Still holding her arm, Silas looked over the moving throng as the announcer began his between-inning patter. “Together. Trust me, Peri. One more time.”

 

She took a breath to answer, but he already saw it in her eyes. And then she jerked, her attention going over his shoulder. “Gun!” she shrilled, shoving him back.

 

Silas’s arms pinwheeled as he caught his balance. His head snapped up. Peri was poised for flight, and a red-fletched dart skittered on the floor between them.

 

“Run!” he said, grabbing her elbow and yanking her into motion.

 

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