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“WHAT’S THIS?” TONY’S plaintive question broke into Connor’s train of thought. The chauffeur sounded more anxious than usual. He took his foot off the accelerator, straining to see whatever was happening a block ahead. Traffic around them slowed to a crawl.
Connor leaned forward, peering over Tony’s shoulder. A large crowd milled around in one of the many environmental parks dotting the Enclave’s business district.
“That’s a lot of people crammed into one park.” Connor turned to Darcy, uneasy. “Another anti-node protest, maybe?”
“It won’t last for long, if it is.” Darcy gestured at the park as they drew abreast. His voice was bitter. “See all the Peace Wardens? They’ll shut it down at the first sign of trouble, real or fabricated. The Givers won’t allow anything to interfere with their precious Initiative.”
Tony muttered something under his breath, glancing out his window at the growing crowd. A line of sweat beaded his forehead, and his hands clasped and unclasped the steering wheel in nervous spasms. Everything seemed to put him on edge these days.
Connor shifted in his seat as they passed the park. The green space, sandwiched between imposing business towers, was all but overrun with Citizens, many waving placards for and against the Initiative.
You’re wasting your time. He watched the fractious crowd with a sick feeling of futility. Haven’t you heard the latest propaganda? No node, no Citizenship.
He faced forward, ignoring the pointless gathering, now receding behind them as Tony navigated the clogged lanes of traffic. Connor gazed out his window, seeing but not registering the buildings they passed.
He toyed with the locket containing Megan’s picture again, slipping it back and forth on its silver chain, unaware of his habitual action.
“This isn’t a leisure outing, Tony.” Darcy consulted his wrist com, noting the time with an exasperated sigh. “The Council doesn’t call emergency sessions often, but when they do, they expect everyone to drop everything.”
“Something to do with the Initiative, you think?” Connor forgot for a moment that—in Darcy’s world—it was always better to wait until he was spoken to. “There’s never been protests like this, not since the Enclaves were built. I wonder if it’s rattling the collaborators’ nerves.”
Darcy sneered at the mention of the traitors. His reply was abruptly cut off. Tony slammed on the brakes without warning, bringing their truck to a skidding halt.
The sudden stop threw Connor against the back of the driver’s seat, and Darcy caught himself against the dashboard with an angry outburst.
“What are you doing?” Darcy lashed out, eyes blazing. Connor fell back into his seat, dazed. Tony’s eyes were reflected in the rearview mirror, and Connor was taken aback by the look on his face.
Tony breathed in short, shallow gulps, his hands clenched around the steering wheel, white-knuckled and trembling. Sweat poured down his face, and his gaze was fixated on the mirror. Fear or horror had frozen him in place.
Darcy’s rage evaporated instantly. He spun in his seat to look behind them. Connor caught his breath when he saw the expression on his foster father’s face.
Darcy’s rattled. Connor twisted in his seat, his eyes drawn to the park, now several blocks behind them. A chaotic scene greeted him.
The traffic around them came to a haphazard standstill, horns blaring. Here and there, a vehicle skidded into the wrong lane. Tires squealed and metal crunched, testifying to multiple collisions on all sides.
Smoke billowed out of the park, spilling past the corner of one of the nearest towers. Fear-crazed Citizens poured out of the park, scattering in all directions. It was mass panic, mob mentality operating on survival instinct alone, a human stampede of fear.
But it was the Peace Wardens’ response which shook Connor to the core. They’re firing into the crowd. The Peace Wardens are shooting . . . everyone.
He fought his own battle with nausea, appalled at the cold efficiency of the slaughter. The majority of the Wardens were directing their weapons into the park, while a smaller contingent targeted anyone fleeing the scene.
They appeared unaffected by the carnage they created, firing at anything that moved. They’re coming straight at us.
Darcy spoke, lancing the paralysis inside their vehicle. “Get out. Stay low, and follow me.”
Tony’s grip on the steering wheel tightened even further, if that were possible. He squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the atrocity in the rearview mirror, immobilized by fear.
Darcy uttered a wordless exclamation, cuffing Tony hard on the shoulder. Darcy didn’t wait, opening his door and sliding to the pavement.
Tony’s eyes popped open, shaken out of his paralysis. He shut the vehicle off, and crawled awkwardly over the middle console to join Darcy.
Connor slid across the rear seat, easing his door open. He dropped to the pavement, mirroring Darcy’s crouching position. Curiosity ate at him, but he resisted the urge to poke his head up for a look.
“Did you see?” he asked Darcy in a harsh whisper, looking past the trembling Tony. Darcy nodded once, and then gestured with an imperious hand. Follow me.
Connor gave Tony another shove to get him moving, and the chauffeur crawled between the motionless vehicles, trailing Darcy. Wide-eyed Citizens sat frozen inside their vehicles, ignoring them as they crawled past. Connor was tempted to warn them, but realized he would only expose himself to the advancing Peace Wardens.
They think they’re safe if they stay inside. A part of his mind flinched, and he scrambled after Darcy, putting the fear-stricken Citizens out of his mind.
They wove their way to the curb, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the Wardens. They made it as far as a financial tower, taking refuge behind one of the ornate pillars framing the entrance.
The guttural hissing of the Wardens’ weapons was less frequent, but judging by the sound, not far behind.
They’re equipped with the best weapons the Givers could provide. Connor swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. As if shooting unarmed Citizens wasn’t easy enough.
Darcy lay on his belly, edging forward to peer around the base of the pillar. Connor went to one knee behind him, careful not to jostle his foster father. “What’s happening? Can you see anything?”
Darcy shifted his position, angling his neck for a better vantage point.
“They’ve stopped advancing,” he said in a monotone, not looking at Connor. “Take a look for yourself. Go around the other side of the pillar.”
Connor edged past the petrified Tony. His range of vision was not as panoramic as Darcy’s, but he spied three of the nearest Wardens.
They stood at attention, their weapons held ready, facing his direction. What are they looking for? Or who?
There was no obvious signal, yet the Wardens pivoted as one, in classic military precision, and retreated toward the park. Connor scrambled to his knees, peering over the gridlocked traffic for a clearer view.
The area bordering the park was still wreathed in smoke, teased back and forth by the wind. Connor sank down, leaning against the pillar. Darcy rose to his knees, a grim look on his face as he watched the departing phalanx of Wardens.
“I don’t understand.” Tony spoke for the first time since the attack began. He sat with his back against the pillar, his trembling hands draped across his knees. His voice was a monotone, and he stared vacantly. “The Peace Wardens . . . why shoot everyone?”
Darcy shot him a look, his expression unreadable, but directed his words at Connor. “Subway. There’s an entrance down the block to your left. We’ll never get our truck out of this traffic jam in time.”
His cryptic comment seemed to jar Tony out of his stupor. He looked at Darcy as if just waking from a deep sleep. “In time for what?”
You’re losing it, Tony. Connor felt no sympathy for him. “He means we have no time to waste.”
He glanced at Darcy, seething with fresh outrage against the Givers. “You saw it too, didn’t you?”
Darcy nodded, his pale eyes ablaze. “The Givers are getting desperate. Some of those Peace Wardens were Trackers.”