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AUBREY SAT WITH DOC in the infirmary. Don, Jane, and Megan had departed an hour earlier, hoping to find Enrico, Garr’s mechanic friend. And hoping even further he could provide them with transportation.
The Hub was far too quiet, too deserted, and Aubrey’s nerves refused to settle down.
She winced as Doc massaged the scar tissue on her arm, hand and fingers. The daily routine was a hold-over from her convalescence. She’d almost electrocuted herself as a result of her crazed attempt—under her Implant’s sinister influence—to kill Jane with one of the combat knives they all carried.
In a way, I should thank Snake Lady. Aubrey grimaced as Doc found another tender spot in her forearm. If she hadn’t threatened to shoot me, I would’ve never attacked her, and the electricity wouldn’t have shorted out my Implant.
She gritted her teeth as Doc began another round of pressure at her elbow. She’d recovered much of her former strength and dexterity, but Doc possessed an uncanny gift for finding the tender spots.
“I couldn’t believe the Hoarders’ arrogance.” Aubrey’s voice sounded strained in her ears, and she wasn’t sure if it was a result of her memories or the pain from Doc’s thorough technique.
“Their leader—Darcy—wouldn’t even look at us, except maybe Garr. He spoke to Mateo as if we weren’t even there. Or maybe like he thought we were too stupid to understand. And Mateo says we need an alliance with them?”
Darcy. She couldn’t control the revulsion in her voice when she spoke his name. He was a monster. He put Implants into innocent, unsuspecting people, turning them into mindless killers. He’d stooped so low as to Implant a young boy.
Aubrey hadn’t realized she was capable of such stark loathing. Until Darcy.
Doc said nothing, concentrating on her arm, but Aubrey thought she detected a darker frown on her face.
“Darcy’s the one who created the Implants in the first place,” Aubrey said, emphasizing her point. “He didn’t even try to hide it. I think he’s actually proud of it. And once you’ve been Implanted, he assigns you a number, like you aren’t even human anymore.”
She knew she was talking too fast, but she couldn’t stem the flood of words. “All I could think about were names. Thomas, Sarah, and Stephen. And the others, whose names we don’t know—all dead because Trackers were after our Implants. Because Darcy . . .”
Her lips twisted as she snarled the name, unable to go on. She drew a ragged breath, wondering why her eyes remained dry when every fiber of her body wanted to scream.
Doc held her hand, but the massage had stopped. She leaned forward, studying Aubrey with a strange expression. Aubrey paused, unable to put a name to the look on Doc’s face. In that moment, anxiety began to gnaw at her.
Doc straightened with a sigh. Her grip on Aubrey’s hand relaxed, and she slipped off her stool.
“Walk with me, Aubrey.” Doc exited the infirmary without a backward glance.
Curious, Aubrey rose from her chair and followed. She assumed Doc’s goal was the mess hall, but Doc surprised her, turning in the opposite direction, past the sleeping quarters to a nondescript room at the far end of the Hub.
Doc lit a lantern as she entered, and the wan light danced on the walls. The empty, featureless room was long and narrow, just as Aubrey remembered it.
Doc set the lantern on the floor, gesturing to the wall at the far end of the narrow space. Aubrey saw a multitude of dark smudges pockmarking the unpainted wall.
“You spent weeks in this room.” Doc Simon gestured to the smudges, her eyes fixed on Aubrey’s. “Over and over, no matter how much it hurt, throwing your little rubber ball against the wall and catching it. Hours per day, every day, for weeks on end. You were determined. You even taught yourself to be ambidextrous.”
“I wanted to contribute,” Aubrey replied, confused by the change of topic. “I’d seen what the Trackers were capable of—how many people they’d slaughtered. And after I almost died when my Implant was activated, I knew I had to be a part of this Hub. A functional part, not just a rescued Runner.”
Doc turned to face her, dropping her arm to her side. Her eyes bored holes into Aubrey. “I remember. You called them the Soul-less, the mindless killing machines who butchered your friends—and ours—in order to ‘harvest’ their Implants.”
Doc’s voice was low and strident, a challenge implied in her words and body language. “You couldn’t wait to join the others in the field, no matter how risky it was. You trained long and hard to toughen up and be part of the team.”
“It paid off in the long run,” Aubrey said, defiance flaring as she confronted her mentor. “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but I saved that little boy’s life. Megan was going to kill him, even though his Implant had been deactivated. I had to get tough. Tougher than Snake Lady, even. I refuse to be the weak link.”
Doc stepped even closer, nose-to-nose, her voice brittle. “And when you stole Jane’s gun to kill a Hoarder—against Garr’s explicit instructions—were you the weak link?”
Aubrey could only stare, feeling the blood drain from her face. Her fists clenched, fingernails digging into her palms.
She felt helpless as Doc’s words sank in, hammering against her rationale—her justification—for stealing the gun. And her single-minded obsession with killing the monster named Darcy.
“He put Implants into children.” Tears welled up in her eyes. The sudden lump in her throat made it hard to speak. “He said he was probably the one who Implanted me . . .”
Aubrey took an involuntary step back, brought up short by the wall behind her, and slid down to the floor. She buried her face in her hands and bawled.
It no longer mattered what Doc might think. Aubrey didn’t care if Snake Lady were to walk in and deliver one of her mocking comments. The emotion of the moment drowned all else out.
Thomas, Sarah, Stephen, the boy, her own horror when she first learned what the Hoarders had done to her, the terror of fleeing the Trackers—the faces and events raced past her mind’s eye without pause or mercy.
The meeting with the Hoarders, Darcy’s scornful taunts, even the unexpected raid by the Trackers. Each memory paraded through her mind, and Aubrey was powerless to control her tears.
It felt like a long time before she looked up, wiping her eyes. She realized Doctor Simon was sitting next to her, also leaning against the wall. As patient as always, Doc waited for Aubrey to pull herself together before speaking.
“I’m not going to apologize for my harshness just now.” Doc’s voice was firm but less confrontational. She shook her head, grimacing. “You came close to crippling an alliance that Garr believes is critical to ridding ourselves of the Givers, the Implants, and the Trackers.”
She sighed, sounding exasperated. “Amos had to learn the same lesson, and there were more than a few times when I thought he’d never be able to. This cannot be about revenge.”
Aubrey heard the words, understood them, but she rebelled. Darcy has to pay for what he’s done. How many Runners are dead—slaughtered—because of him?
Doc waited, watching her with a discerning eye. As Aubrey regained her composure, Doc spoke again, her voice empathetic—more like her usual demeanor. “The Colonel’s decision pushed all of you to the edge. I was aware of that even before I heard what happened at your meeting with the Hoarders.”
She averted her gaze, the wan light from the lantern flickering on her face. “But I support the Colonel and his leadership of this Hub. If there were any other option, he would’ve chosen it. Garr took a huge risk trusting Mateo, and an even larger one by agreeing to an alliance with Hoarders. Everyone on the team was stretched to the breaking point.”
Aubrey listened, numb.
“You were inches away from making a critical mistake.” Doc took a deep breath, her eyes softening. “But there’s more to you than that. You’ve shown strength and resolve, and you overcame some daunting obstacles. In my mind, that makes you one of the bravest people I know.”
Aubrey managed a watery smile. “I don’t feel very brave just now, Doc. And I’m sorry . . .”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them away. “I shouldn’t have taken Jane’s gun. I wasn’t thinking, I was just reacting. I thought I was getting tougher, but I guess I lost it when Garr said we were going to partner with Hoarders.”
Doc nodded, looking suddenly tired. “Like I said, Garr’s decision—even though I believe he’s probably right—pushed the whole team to a risky edge. You deserve more credit than you’re giving yourself, Aubrey. You’re much tougher than you realize.”
Doc looked directly at her, emphasizing her next words. “But one thing you’re not—is a murderer. You should thank your lucky stars Megan got there before you crossed a line you can’t un-cross.”
Doc paused, giving her words time to sink in. “The Givers take innocent people and turn them into Trackers, and Darcy creates assassins with his Implants. Don’t let this change who you are, Aubrey. Don’t let vengeance turn you into another cold-blooded killer.”
Aubrey nodded, drawing a deep, shaky breath and exhaling. “I know you’re right, Doc, but that doesn’t make it any easier. If you could’ve seen the look in Darcy’s eyes . . .”
She ran a hand through her hair. “It feels like we’ve made a deal with the devil.”
“Call him whatever you like,” Doc replied, watching her with shrewd eyes. “But Darcy, and the other Hoarders, are the key to getting inside the Enclave. We can’t reach the Givers without their help, as distasteful as that is.”
Aubrey straightened her shoulders against the rough concrete wall, lifting her head higher. “I won’t make the same mistake twice, Doc. I won’t be the weak link.”
“That’s all I needed to hear.” Doc climbed to her feet, arching her back as she stretched.
“I’m getting too old to live in a sub-basement next to the sewer,” she said with a wry smile. “But right now, we’ve got bigger issues to worry about.”
Aubrey sat forward, alarmed by the change in Doc’s voice. “Bigger than what? What could be worse?”
Doc offered a hand to help Aubrey to her feet. She waited until Aubrey finished brushing the dust off her pants before replying. “Those Trackers knew exactly where to find you. There’s more going on than we realized. There’s a third party involved, and they want all of us wiped out.”
Aubrey felt her heart skip a beat. “The Givers? I guess that makes sense, but how could they know where to find us?”
Doc stooped to retrieve the lantern, and the shadows on the wall gyrated in response.
“Somebody told them.” Her blunt verdict fell into a sudden silence in the empty room.