The q, p.13
The Q, page 13
“But he didn’t have an opinion about what would be best? Even when you were a kid?”
“Not that he shared.”
“What about your dad?”
“My dad said that sometimes the devil you know is better than the one you don’t. And the grass is always greener.”
“Big fan of idioms, your dad?”
Her lips twitched. “Yes.”
“And not in favor, it sounded like.”
“He was not in favor of his only child leaving forever, no.”
“Understandable,” Lennon said quietly.
They turned a corner, and walked in silence for several minutes. They were in an area that was mostly businesses, near the lumberyard, and there weren’t any other people on the street.
“Did you and your dad…get along?” Lennon finally asked.
She gave him a confused look. “You want to talk about my relationship with my father?”
“I’ve just…You know that we’ve heard of your father, right? Out there?”
“Ah,” she said, understanding dawning on her. “Right. You want to know what the famous Isaac Rojas was like.”
“I was just curious if he was different from the rumors.”
She didn’t need to ask what he’d heard. Her dad had already seen the inside of a prison cell—more than once—when the virus hit. And the Americans had a lot more access to information inside the Q back in the first few years. When they’d had internet inside, people had seen video of what was happening.
It made sense that her dad had argued so forcefully to control the news and internet inside. He’d done some pretty gruesome shit to get the Q under control.
Back when Lopez had first started supplying people with new organs, there were payment plans and deals. People who were in really bad shape could barter or beg their way into a new pair of lungs or a new kidney, with just the promise of repayment.
Trouble was, repayment rarely happened. Her dad had his hands full knocking skulls every day, and it never did any good. He couldn’t keep up with the backlog.
So, he started repossessing the organs. He famously pulled a guy’s lungs out in the middle of the square, in midday, surrounded by people—as a warning to others. He’d cut them out, wrapped them up, and shoved them into a bag.
When she was younger, she hadn’t understood at first why he did that. They couldn’t be reused. But later, she realized that he probably just liked the visual of sauntering off with a dead man’s lungs swinging from his hand, blood twisting a path behind him.
Lopez had put a stop to all payment plans and deals after a few repossessions. He said he wasn’t putting organs in people just to have them torn out by Isaac a few months later. It was a waste of resources.
It also wasn’t great for morale. No one wanted to see their neighbors getting their chests ripped open in broad daylight. Made for a real bummer of a commute.
She also realized later that it was likely the plan all along to let her dad terrify people by repossessing a few organs so Lopez could swoop in and put a stop to it. They were good at always presenting Lopez as the good guy and her dad as the monster. But the truth was, everything that they did, they did together.
Maisie glanced at Lennon. “He’s what you heard. But he was also a good dad.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. My mom died when I was two—the virus—and he was actually pretty good at parenting by himself. Some of the other dads around here seemed to completely fall apart when their wives died, or they just had no interest in their kids. But Dad wasn’t really like that.”
“No?” He looked at her curiously.
“No. He took me nearly everywhere with him, when I was a kid. Even when he didn’t have to. I used to sit on his lap during his poker games, even though all the other kids were in the next room. He seemed to actually like having me around.”
“Wouldn’t know what that’s like,” Lennon said, looking up at the sky.
“What?”
“Having a dad who likes having you around.”
She hesitated, unsure what to say to that. Finally she swatted his shoulder lightly, with a smile. “Well, nothing like a little kidnapping to make your parents appreciate your presence, right?”
He laughed, his lips curving up into a bright, wide smile of his own. She hadn’t seen him smile like that, and she realized suddenly that this must be his real smile. The one that wasn’t tinged with terror or nerves.
“True,” he said. “My parents and my sisters will never take me for granted again after this.”
“You have sisters?”
“Yeah, two. Stella and Caroline.”
“Are you close?”
“Not so much with Caroline, my older sister. She’s always been the golden child, and since I was the screwup, there wasn’t much common ground there. But Stella and I are pretty close. I’m three years older than her, which was just enough to fool her into thinking I was cool when we were younger.”
“But not now?”
“No, now she’s sixteen, so she’s old enough to know better.” He grinned at her.
She smiled, pointing to the garage ahead. “The car’s there.”
“Do you know how to drive?” he asked.
“Of course I know how to drive.”
“Hey, I was just asking,” he said. “Sometimes people in cities don’t drive. A lot of New Yorkers don’t.”
“Dad taught me when I was twelve. I transported stuff for him back then; I had to learn.”
She stopped in front of the garage and typed out the code on the pad. The gate creaked open.
Lennon hopped into the passenger’s side of the small black car as she slid into the driver’s seat. He put the backpack by his feet and grabbed the map from inside.
She drove out of the garage, rolling down the window to let some fresh air into the car. Lennon sat back as she pulled out onto the road, closing his eyes for a moment.
“Why do you look so relaxed?” she asked.
He smiled as he turned to her. “Would you prefer I look tense?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. It’s just weird. Don’t look relaxed around me.”
“Don’t look relaxed around you?”
“Yes! What happened to being scared of me? Go back to that.”
He laughed, tilting his head back with the force of it. “I’m sorry. You’re terrifying.”
“Don’t patronize me.” She pressed her lips together, but a smile twitched at them anyway.
“Now you look relaxed.”
“Shut up.”
LENNON
LENNON STARED OUT at the rolling hills as Maisie drove. It was peaceful out here. They had to be close to where he’d landed, but he’d only noted how empty it was. The word hadn’t been peaceful.
It seemed ridiculous now that he’d thought he could stay in one spot and not interact with anyone in the zone. What did he think they were going to do? Stand ten feet away while he shouted at them to send a helicopter to rescue him?
He glanced at Maisie. It was embarrassing that his fear had overwhelmed him and kept him from considering the upside of his predicament. He hadn’t even seen that this could be an opportunity to actually see the area that had long fascinated him and talk to the people inside. He was mortified that he hadn’t thought of them at all, except as a way to get a message to the US government.
A red sign along the highway caught his attention—NEUTRAL ZONE—NEXT TWO MILES.
“Have you ever been to the north?” he asked. “Like, as a kid? Before you guys split it up?”
“No, back then we weren’t officially separated, but we’d still sort of carved out our spaces. Plus, the roads were a disaster. Totally clogged with cars that couldn’t run without gasoline. We had to go everywhere on foot for a long time.”
He nodded. “Makes sense.”
She took in a breath, and he noticed that the knuckles of her right hand had gone white around the steering wheel.
They passed another sign—SPENCER TERRITORY—ONE MILE.
She hit the gas a little harder. Lennon held his breath as they crossed over.
SPENCER TERRITORY
He waited. They continued down the road.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting.
A checkpoint, maybe? Angry cannibals chasing them?
Maisie stared straight ahead.
A noise pierced the quiet suddenly, a high-pitched squeal. It was getting closer.
Something dropped onto the hood of the car. It was small, and metal, and the high-pitched noise was getting louder every second.
“Oh, shit.” Maisie slammed on the brakes. “GET OUT OF THE CAR!”
He reached for the door handle, barely remembering to grab the backpack before he dove out onto the pavement.
The explosion knocked him off his feet. He hit the ground, curling into a ball to protect his head. The heat from the blast enveloped him as debris ricocheted off his back.
He peeked up. The top of the car was totally blown off, the inside on fire. Maisie darted around the hood and did a quick double-take as Lennon sprang to his feet, pulling on the backpack.
“Come on.” She grabbed his hand, and then let it go as they began to run.
The squealing noise started again.
He looked up. Two metal drones flew overhead.
The bomb dropped at his feet.
He let out a yell, barely sidestepping it, and bolted forward.
The blast didn’t knock him off his feet this time, but the sudden, sharp pain in his shoulder made him grimace.
Another bomb dropped on the road.
“That way!” Maisie pointed to the trees to their left. They were a good quarter mile away.
They veered off the road. The bomb exploded behind them.
He pushed his legs faster, but quickly pulled ahead of Maisie. Surprise colored her features as he slowed a little.
The drone dropped another bomb, and another. Heat licked at Lennon’s heels as he ran, keeping pace with Maisie.
Finally, they were in the cover of trees. A bomb burst overhead, igniting one of them.
Maisie veered to the right, and they ran for several minutes, until they were deep into the trees and Lennon couldn’t hear the squealing noises anymore.
He slowed to a stop as Maisie did. His heart was pumping too fast, and he braced his arms against his knees as he tried to catch his breath.
“Christ…you’re fast,” Maisie said, sucking in air.
His breathing started to even out, and he straightened. “I run a lot.”
“Why?”
He laughed, his nerves beginning to subside. “Because I like it?” That was probably an understatement. Running was one of his favorite things. He loved how it felt impossible at first, and then it felt okay, and then it made his mind go blank. It was blissfully peaceful inside his brain, for several miles every day.
His shoulder burned suddenly, and he winced, twisting to try to see it. Something metal was poking out of his shoulder.
Maisie winced. “Ouch.”
Now that he could see that he had a giant piece of metal sticking out of his shoulder, it really hurt. “What is that?”
“Looks like a piece of one of the bombs. Sit down. No, wait.” She carefully lifted the straps of the backpack around the metal, pulling it off his back. She set it on the ground and unzipped it.
He sat with a wince.
“Really smart thinking, grabbing the backpack,” she said as she dug through it.
“I try.” He watched as she pulled out a small pouch. “Did Hadley pack a first aid kit?”
“She packed a lot more than a first aid kit.” She held up a pouch that was labeled For when you get shot.
Lennon barked out a laugh.
Maisie held up another one: For when you get stabbed. “I’m gonna save that one for later. I think we just need some basic wound-closer for that.” She grabbed the first aid kit and walked over to him, dropping to her knees.
A sharp stab of pain rippled across his shoulder, and he gasped. Maisie tossed aside the piece of metal.
“Jesus, you could have warned me.”
“Did you think I was just going to leave that in there?”
“No, but—” He almost laughed. “Never mind.”
“Take off your jacket and pull this arm out of your shirt, will ya?” She tapped his right arm.
He shrugged out of the jacket and gingerly pulled his arm out of the sleeve. He pushed it up closer to his neck, so she could see his shoulder.
Her fingers brushed against his back, soft and gentle, and he took in a sharp breath.
“Sorry,” she said, her hand disappearing from his back. “Did that hurt?”
“Uh, no.” It actually hurt less when she touched him like that. “How does it look?”
“It’s not too bad. Just a little…gaping wound.”
“Sure, doesn’t sound too bad at all.”
He tried to think of something else as she cleaned it. The burning intensified.
“You’ve done this a lot?” he guessed.
She laughed shortly. “Yeah. My dad had me patching him up pretty much as soon as I could hold a bandage. He was a practical guy. Didn’t believe in coddling me.”
“Was that…okay? Couldn’t have been easy, patching up your bleeding father as a little kid.”
“Eh, it was fine.”
The way she said it was too casual, and he looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met, and her hand stilled on his back.
“Sounds tough,” he said quietly.
One side of her mouth lifted, as if to acknowledge he was right. “I’m guessing your father didn’t get into a lot of bloody fights? Or your mom?”
He laughed, turning back around. “No. I got into a fight in middle school once, and my parents made me go to the kid’s house to apologize—he punched me first, by the way—and then write an essay about toxic masculinity.”
“Wow,” she said, her voice full of amusement.
“It was a pretty good essay for a twelve-year-old, if I do say so myself.”
“Did it work? Did you get into more fights?”
“No, punching people was never my style. I preferred to piss off my parents in other ways.”
“Like playing naked tennis?” she guessed.
“Like that,” he said with a chuckle. “Though, in my defense, strip tennis was not my idea, and I didn’t know there were cameras around. We were just being ridiculous.” He glanced over his shoulder again, his lips curving up when he saw the smile on her face. Her fingers lightly grazed his shoulder in a way that felt intimate.
“Why’d you want to piss off your parents?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” he lied. “Didn’t you enjoy pissing off your dad?”
“God, no.”
“Right. Not really the kind of guy you want to piss off, I guess.”
“He never would have laid a finger on me. I just…I guess I preferred to make him happy. Kind of desperate for his approval, actually.” She muttered the last line, almost to herself.
“I don’t think that approval was ever within my grasp,” he said. “So I went the other way for a while. I did give it my best shot when I joined the campaign, though. Thought I could start over now that I’m older, impress him and everyone else. I’m not sure how well it worked.” He’d probably been right when he was younger—his dad’s approval felt like a lost cause, no matter what he did.
“Sure,” she said quietly, and then stepped back. He immediately missed her touch. “You’re good. Try not to swing that arm around too much for the next ten minutes or so, while that dries.”
He carefully stuck his arm back into the sleeve and pulled his shirt down. “Got it. Thanks.” He slipped his jacket back on.
“Anytime.” She packed the first aid kit into the backpack and swung it on. She pointed straight in front of her. “We’re going to have to keep going that way. The trees stay thick for long enough that we can lose the drones.”
He pointed the other way, which he was pretty sure was west. “The main road was that way, right?”
“Yep.” She turned in a circle. “I have a really bad feeling that we’ve already crossed over into East Spencer. Or we will, soon. And we can’t risk going back west with those drones.”
“So, the plan to not go to East Spencer and stay in a car for as long as possible didn’t really work out so well.”
“Not so much.”
MAISIE
MAISIE GLANCED AT Lennon as they walked through the thick trees. He didn’t appear to be bothered by the shoulder injury, though it must have hurt.
He’d handled the car getting blown up better than she expected. He was proving to be calm under pressure, which was not her initial impression of him. She was glad to be wrong.
“Listen,” she started, and then cleared her throat. “Next time, you can pull ahead of me when we’re running. It’s fine. I’ll catch up.”
He gave her an utterly baffled look. “I’m not leaving you behind.”
“You wouldn’t be leaving me behind. I’d catch up. You’re much faster than me.”
“And what am I supposed to do if I get there first, and there’s someone to fight off? Am I supposed to punch them in the face by myself? No, thank you. That’s your job.” He grinned.
She bit back a laugh. “Good point.”
They walked in silence for several minutes. The sun was starting to sink lower in the sky, casting an orange glow through the trees.
“What would my life be like, if I don’t make it to the northern gate in time?” Lennon asked quietly.
She let out a short laugh. “Wow. Have you lost faith in me already?” She tried to sound flippant, but in reality, she was disappointed at the prospect of him not having faith in her. Since the moment they’d met, he’d looked at her like she was the scariest, coolest person he’d ever seen, and she didn’t hate it. It was nice to have someone believe in her, for once.
