“And what about Brenna? Have you heard anything?”
Gareth shakes his head. When they landed in New Hope, Ken whisked Brenna away to the labs and disappeared along with her. Neither Gareth nor Kay have the clearance to access information about their whereabouts.
“This is killing me,” I say, growling. “I need to do something.”
“There’s nothing you can do.” He sits up and rubs his face. “There’s nothing any of us can do right now. We just have to wait for an opportunity.”
Gareth’s impassivity galls me, but then I think about all he’s done for me, and I can’t help but feel grateful. If he knew a way to help me, he would. He saved my ass when Dr. Reynolds found me coming out of the Rumble Room. He helped Kay break me out of the Ward. He was even there when Fort Black was imploding, piloting the hover-copter that carried us away.
A question comes to me.
“Were you with Kay when she picked me and Baby up on the lakeshore?”
“Yeah, I was flying the hover-copter.” He grins. “I have never seen Kay as pissed as she was after you shot her.”
“I’ve always wondered why you guys used the Florae net on us. Why didn’t you just land and ask us to come with you?” I learned standard procedure in my Guardian training, and scooping up post-aps like fish wasn’t part of it.
“There was a group of Floraes nearby. We thought it was too risky to take the chance of making noise while we explained ourselves to you. Kay said it was better to grab you and apologize later.”
“Kay apologize? Yeah, right.”
Gareth huffs a knowing laugh.
“I bet you guys wish you left us to the Floraes.”
Gareth shakes his head. “And miss all the excitement? No way. You sure do know how to get yourself into trouble, though.”
“And out of it,” I say in my defense.
Gareth just smirks. “But mostly in.”
“Hey, I did help the Guardians when Floraes were let into New Hope. I took care of myself then.”
“Yeah, that’s true.” The smile fades from his face. “Seriously, Amy. I admire you. I don’t know if I could survive the things you’ve survived.”
I wonder which parts he means. The After? The Ward? Finding out my mother kick-started the apocalypse?
Before I can ask him, there’s a loud knock at the door. Gareth and I look at each other, then he jumps up and peers through the peephole. When he sees who it is, he cracks the door enough for Kay to step through. She’s wearing her synth-suit, meaning she’s either on duty or in training. She’ll have only a few moments.
“Amy,” she says, walking to me, “you have to see this.” She takes a tiny thumb drive out of one of her pockets and hands it to me.
“What is it?”
“Footage of Baby. Ken got it to me.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s alive.” Kay backs away toward the door. “I have to go before I’m missed. I’ll come back later, sunshine, so we can talk.” She looks at Gareth. “Make sure she’s okay after she watches that.” He nods and Kay disappears through the door.
Gareth goes to a drawer, pulls out a laptop, and turns it on. Numb with anxiety, I hand him the thumb drive and he plugs it in.
I don’t know what I expected, but when Baby’s face pops up on the screen, I let out a long, relieved sigh. She is alive, or was this morning when the video was taken, according to the time stamp at the bottom.
But the relief stops there. Baby is so pale that at first I think the recording is in black-and-white. Then I see she’s wearing her bright-yellow jumpsuit. Swimming in it, would be more accurate. Her face is gaunt and her eyes are shadowed, giving them a sunken look. She twirls a hair around her finger, then plucks it from her head. I flinch as though the hair had been attached to my own scalp. She did the same thing when we were in the After, right after we lost our home and before we came to New Hope.
Someone off-camera says, “Hannah,” and Baby looks up blankly.
“Yes?” she asks hesitantly. It’s so strange to hear her voice after our years of silence together. I didn’t even know she could speak until Rice revealed that he knew her true name, shocking her into repeating it. That was just moments before I was taken to the Ward. After that I was allowed to see her only while I was heavily drugged.
“Hannah, we’re going to ask you a few simple questions.” My chest constricts. I recognize the voice now. It’s Dr. Thorpe, my Ward psychiatrist.
“What’s your full name?” Dr. Thorpe asks.
“Hannah O’Brian,” Baby replies softly.
“Have you ever gone by any other name?”
Baby looks off-camera, confused, and shakes her head.
“How old are you?”
“Six.” Baby tugs at another strand of her dull blond hair, then yanks it out.
“And where do you live?”
“New Hope.”
“And do you have any family in New Hope?”
Baby looks at this camera this time. “New Hope is my family.”