“Schmuck,” Cassie said.
The Provost’s car drove up almost to the house. Two police cars hummed in after him. The driver got out and then opened the back door for the Provost. He was already scowling and tugged his suit jacket into place. The cops got out of their cars.
The rest of the crowd clustered around in the road outside our fence.
The Provost held up his hand for silence, and all the murmuring stopped.
Cassie stepped forward. “Is there a problem?”
“You bet there’s a problem!” the Provost yelled so that everyone could hear. “The two of you are trouble! You’re the definition of bad citizens!”
The crowd murmured behind him, some people looking angry.
“Can you be more specific?” Cassie asked. I was impressed—the only thing I could think of to say was a bunch of cussing. But she was holding it together.
“You’re a bad influence!” the Provost said. “You’re deserters! You left the cell! You made my son leave, too!”
I stepped forward, ready to tell him where to get off, but Cassie held up a hand.
“You’re welcome,” she said.
The Provost looked taken aback. “What?”
“First,” Cassie said, “we didn’t leave voluntarily. We were kidnapped.”
That was stretching it, but whatever.
“You were not kidnapped!” the Provost said angrily.
“We were kidnapped,” Cassie said firmly. “Just like other kids from this cell. And Nate—your son—heroically tried to save us.”
Okay, okay, I thought. This is good.
The Provost was speechless for a moment. But only for a moment.
“You led him astray! You made him leave the cell!”
Following Cassie’s lead, I said, “How could we possibly lead Nathaniel astray? You know how loyal he is to you and the cell.”
Provost Allen looked trapped. Was he going to announce that his son wasn’t loyal, in front of everyone?
“Becca was kidnapped,” Cassie said strongly. “As her only sister, I had to try to find her. Then I got kidnapped. Nate, being a good friend and an amazing person, tried to find us. And he got taken as well.”
“By who?” someone in the crowd shouted.
“There’s a prison,” I said. “A prison just for kids. We were all taken there.”
More surprised murmuring. But Cassie wasn’t finished.
“And we—all of us—have to go there right now and save those kids!” she cried.
103
CASSIE
“WHERE IS THIS PRISON?” a woman yelled. “Are any of our kids there?”
“Some,” I said. “Not all of the ones who are missing. We saw Kathy Hobhouse there, and she said she’d seen Livvie Clayhill. But there’s other people’s kids there—hundreds of them. Kids whose parents are just as worried, just as frantic, as we are. Those kids need saving.”
“What are you talking about?” the Provost said. This was clearly not going the way he’d thought—I could practically hear the wheels in his head spinning as he tried to turn this to his advantage.
“There are hundreds of kids who are going hungry, who are being beaten, who are facing death every day!” I said, raising my voice. “And we, as a cell, can help them!”
The crowd looked confused. Each cell takes care of its own—that’s how it’s always been.
“If our kids were there, and folks from another cell could help them, would you want them to?” Becca asked.
More murmuring.
“We, the people of this cell, could help those kids,” Becca went on. “We might be able to return them to their own cells.”
“They can’t come here!” the Provost said. “It would throw everything out of balance!”
“These kids’ lives are more important than balance!” I said strongly, and the Provost paled as people started to agree with me, nodding their heads.
“You know the laws!” the Provost tried again. “We’re not leaving the cell unauthorized!”
“These kids’ lives are more important than laws!” Becca said.
“More important than authorization!” I added.
People in the crowd were talking to each other, nodding and convincing each other.
“Who’s with us?” Becca shouted, raising one hand in the air. “Who will take the risk of going to save these children’s lives?”
No one said anything.
“It won’t be easy,” I said. “It’s a scary thought for all of us. There’s a lot to like about staying home, safe and sound.” Nods, looks of relief. “Except we aren’t safe!” I cried. “Our own kids have been taken with no warning! Who knows who will be next? Will it be one of your sons or daughters? Will someone you love end up in that nightmare? We’re not safe in this cell! We won’t be safe until we break up that prison!”
This was it—now or never. I waited, muscles as taut as a pulley rope. And then one person raised a hand, tentatively.
Then another person raised her hand.
And another.
And another.
“Let’s go find this prison!” a woman yelled.
“Let’s go find those kids!” a man agreed.
I looked at Becca, saw the disbelief in her eyes.
“Heroes,” I whispered.
104
THERE WAS A CONVOY. BECCA and I had gotten everyone riled up. A line of cars, trucks, and even a few tractors swarmed toward the boundary gates. I couldn’t believe it. Everything was changing. We were changing it.
Despite the Provost lecturing about the dangers of leaving the cell, only a few people turned back. It felt like everyone had been asleep, and had just woken up. It was amazing.
Becca and I jumped in the back of a pickup truck. I was feeling a sickening mixture of hope and dread, excitement and fear. I’d never wanted to go back to that prison. I’d never wanted to get anywhere near the place. But I was ready to take it by storm. Just thinking of the kids inside—setting them free…
Becca nudged my knee with hers. “Can’t believe we’re going back—voluntarily.”
I nodded. “Yeah. But we have all these people with us—Strepp can’t take us with all of them here. We have to try.”
Becca nodded, but she didn’t look completely convinced. She’d told the lead driver where she thought the prison was, based on our return journey. I was glad she’d been paying attention, because there was no way I’d ever find it again.
After a long time, shouts up ahead made us stand and look over the truck cab. A sudden panic gripped me: there it was. I’d recognize it anywhere—the collection of broken-down gray buildings, the tall chain-link fence with razor wire on top. I couldn’t believe I was back here. Then I thought of the beaten, hungry kids inside.