Exposure (The Fringe Book 2) Read online

  “Your fugly uniform is causing a disturbance,” Celdon mutters.

  I swallow back the laugh that’s threatening to burst out of my mouth and tug lightly on Celdon’s arm to pull him back to the mess line.

  At this point, I don’t even care that he’s burned. I just want to extricate him from this situation before he gets us both arrested.

  “Do I need to take you in?” asks Paxton, unable to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice as he fingers the handcuffs at his belt. “I think a night in the cages might get you to simmer down.”

  That was the wrong thing to say. I’m not sure if it’s the reminder of being detained and tortured by Constance or the drug he’s on, but that comment flips Celdon’s aggressive switch.

  Before I can stop him, he lunges at Paxton’s perfectly coiffed hair, all arms and legs and rage.

  “You little prick!” he yells, spraying spit in Paxton’s direction.

  “Celdon! Stop!” I growl, yanking him backward.

  “I’ll have a go at anyone who gets in my way! I don’t give a fuck who you are!”

  Now at least half the canteen is staring, and the Systems mom is giving us a really dirty look. I tighten my hold on Celdon.

  He’s skin and bone — and totally untrained — but he’s tall. He manages to pull me forward as he struggles to get to Paxton, and I do the only thing I can think of to keep him from spending the rest of the night in the cages: I sweep his legs out from under him and slam him onto the floor like a rag doll.

  Excited jeers fill the room, and I feel a little sick. Celdon seems too stunned to react, but Paxton gives me a cruel smile and stalks off to resume his patrol.

  When I release Celdon, he glares up at me with eyes full of betrayal.

  “Thanks a lot, Riles,” he says in an embarrassed voice. He groans and stumbles to his feet, still tugging at his blazer as if that will fix his bedraggled appearance.

  “What were you going to do?” I murmur. “Punch out Paxton Dellwood?”

  “It’s what you would have done before you lost all your nerve.”

  “Not now that he’s a controller! You would have been arrested!”

  “Better than being laid out and humiliated by my best friend.”

  The guilt starts to rise up in my stomach, overshadowing my worry and irritation. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. But you were losing it, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Whatever.”

  He tries to turn away from me, but I grab his arm. “Hey!” I lower my voice. “What are you on?”

  “None of your goddamn business.”

  This time he turns all the way around, and I catch a glimpse of a tiny bulge in his breast pocket. Before he can stop me, my hand shoots out and snatches it out of his blazer.

  The tiny clear vial feels unnaturally warm in my hand. It’s half full of an electric blue powder that makes my stomach turn over. I shove it in my pocket before anyone can see and then look around anxiously.

  “What the fuck?” I growl.

  Celdon’s usually soft, mischievous eyes go cold. “Give it back.”

  “No! Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  He reaches toward me, but he’s too slow, and I knock his hands away easily.

  Normally Celdon spends his nights in Neverland getting burned on harmless uppers, but this is surge — highly addictive, very illegal, and very easy to overdose on.

  “Give it back!”

  “No! What is wrong with you? This stuff is dangerous.”

  His expression darkens. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Just leave it alone, Harper.”

  “Fine? This is why you’re acting insane,” I hiss.

  “No, I’m acting insane because I’ve had the freaking rug pulled out from under me!”

  “This isn’t like you,” I snarl, jabbing a finger into his bony chest. “You always knew when to stop, but you’ve gone completely off the rails.”

  “Who cares? It’s not like they’re going to let us live anyway.”

  “You don’t see me drugging myself into a coma, though.”

  “Fuck you,” he snaps, looking livid. “You’ve always been so much better, haven’t you?”

  I take an automatic step back and stare.

  This isn’t the Celdon I know. This is an ugly, terrible side of him I’ve never seen before. “What are you talking about?”

  “It means I’m not like you. You’ve always been able to deal with everything. You’ve never hit rock bottom.”

  “Celdon —”

  His eyes glaze over, and for a moment, it looks as though he’s staring right through me. “Your bid was almost the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “What?” Now he just sounds delirious.

  He looks up at the ceiling, a sad smile playing on his face. “I thought maybe you would lose it . . . that maybe you’d be just as screwed up as I am. But you just keep going.”

  I open my mouth, but no words come out. There are no words for what I’m feeling.

  His shoulders deflate, and he hangs his head and shuffles past me. “Later, Harper.”

  I watch him dump his tray and leave the canteen, completely oblivious to all the people still watching me over their food. I turn around to scan my ID and grab my tray, blinking furiously to keep the tears from welling up in my eyes.

  As I wheel around, I spot Eli watching me from across the room. He looks serious and a little sad, but that could be my imagination.

  “Hey . . .” says an uneasy voice from behind me.

  I whip around, prepared to go another round with Paxton or Celdon, but it’s just Lenny. She’s smiling in an uncomfortable way that tells me she saw everything that just happened.

  “Why don’t you come sit with us?” She nods back toward a table full of Recon cadets.

  I spot Bear and Kindra and Blaze in the mix and smile gratefully. I may never have wanted anything to do with Recon, but I’m glad to have Lenny. Since Eli has been working with me one on one for the past two weeks, I’ve barely had a chance to talk to her outside of normal training.

  “What was all that about?” she asks under her breath.

  “Just a friend of mine. He’s had a rough couple weeks.”

  “He’s probably worried about you being deployed.”

  I don’t have the energy to lie, so I just shrug and slump down between her and Bear. I wish it were as simple as that.

  “Are you doing okay?” asks Bear in a low voice. He’s still sporting a broken nose and a black eye from the tier-three riot, which makes him look deceptively intimidating.

  I nod and shovel a spoonful of quinoa in my mouth so I don’t have to talk about it. You’d think I’d just been diagnosed with a terminal illness the way everyone is looking at me. Suddenly, their first deployments seem wonderfully far away.

  “You’ll be all right,” says Kindra dreamily. “The stars show something important in your future.”

  Lenny rolls her eyes, and I take another huge bite of food.

  “You guys excited to party tonight?” asks Blaze, oblivious as usual to all the drama.

  “What?”

  “Your cherry-popping party.”

  I nearly choke on my food. “What?”

  “It’s tradition,” says Bear with a grin. “They throw a party before cadets’ first deployment. It’s supposed to be a big blowout.”

  “That seems a little . . .”

  “Sick?” Lenny offers.

  I grin. After everything with Jayden and Constance, throwing a party for a mission meant to kill me does seem a little messed up. It’s almost like a preemptive funeral.

  “It’s supposed to be good luck,” says Lenny. “You’re the only one going out early, so you’re the guest of honor.”

  I shift a little in my seat, already uncomfortable at the prospect of all that attention.

  “What are you going to wear?”

  “I don’t know.” My brain can’t even compute an appropriate wardrobe choice right now.<
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  “You gotta look hot. It could be the last thing you ever do.” Lenny quirks an eyebrow at me, not realizing her joke hit a little too close to home. It only takes her a couple seconds to pick up on her mistake and cover it with a laugh. “I’m only joking! You’ll be fine. Come on. I’ll help you get ready.”

  My stomach still feels empty, but my appetite shrinks with every sympathetic look I get. So I get up and follow her out of the canteen.

  These parties sound just as stupid as Bid Day Eve parties, but I actually want to participate. Between the rigorous training and the stress of everything with Constance, nothing sounds better than getting drunk with a bunch of strangers.

  Back in my compartment, I let Lenny raid my closet while I shower off the grime and sweat from training. By the time I dry off and apply a little bit of makeup, Lenny is nearly hyperventilating over some of my outfits.

  I let her borrow a tube top from my closet and a pair of heels that bring her up to my height. I don’t have any idea how to tame her unruly red curls, so we just let them run wild down her back.

  At first, I pull out a pair of tight black pants and a top. But after a little pestering, Lenny convinces me to wear my hair down and don a slinky black dress Celdon once persuaded me to buy from the commissary. I guess there’s no reason I can’t look hot — even if I’ll be dead soon.

  Once I’m dressed, it feels like a bit much, so I throw my fake leather jacket over it and swap my heels for boots.

  Following the gentle rumble of activity toward the emergency stairwell, I wonder if Eli will make an appearance. He probably thinks these parties are a waste of time, but I try to psych myself up as Lenny leads me down the tunnel.

  At first I think she’s taking us to Neverland, but then she makes a sharp turn down a maintenance tunnel that runs adjacent to the Underground platform.

  Darkness envelops me as we push our way through, but the wave of noise seems to be getting louder. The tunnel narrows the farther we go, and I suddenly feel a little claustrophobic.

  I place my hands on the walls to reassure myself that they aren’t closing in. Then somebody touches my shoulder, and I jump.

  I look behind me, but it’s just some other Recon recruit I don’t know. Judging by his hazy eyes, he’s been pre-gaming down in Neverland.

  Just when I can’t take the confinement any longer, the tunnel opens up, and we’re hit by a wave of sound.

  I’m standing inside what looks like the very bowels of the compound. The whitish walls are unfinished, exposing a tangle of pipes and wires snaking up between the concrete beams. It’s lit by a few strips of florescent lights suspended from chains, and someone has dragged two enormous speakers into the center of the room.

  Bodies are packed in just as tightly as they are down in Neverland, but they’re all fully clothed. And instead of grinding up against each other, most people are shouting conversations over the noise, laughing, and drinking.

  A few people spot us, and the room erupts into cheers as they recognize me. I try to smile, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace.

  Lenny shoves a drink into my hand and pulls me toward the spotlight in the middle of the room. I hadn’t noticed right away, but the crowd is congregated around a makeshift ring, where two Recon guys are going at it.

  Judging by their playful grins, this isn’t a real fight. One of the guys throws a right hook, and the other one lets it hit him.

  Lenny lifts her arms into the air and cheers, as though she’s been a Recon fan girl her whole life. The other cadets join us around the ring, and pretty soon I’m having a good time.

  The fight comes to a bloody end when one guy strikes the other straight on the nose, and the crowd yells and stomps their feet.

  Looking around at the messy tattooed people, I feel a pang of warmth in my stomach. They did this for me. Somehow, I can’t imagine Systems coming up with anything like it.

  Then a guy in front of us stumbles to the left, and I catch a familiar set of blue eyes watching me from across the room.

  “Eli’s here,” I half yell to Lenny.

  “No way!” She whips around and stares openmouthed at him. “I never thought he would come to these things.”

  But Eli’s leaning against the back wall with a drink in his hand. His casual posture makes him look relaxed, and I’m probably the only one who notices the tightness to his gaze.

  “Here she is,” says a loud voice behind me. I turn just as a huge muscular guy grabs me around the arm and hauls me toward the ring.

  I realize it’s Miles — the guy Eli grew up with. I’ve only ever seen him in his Recon uniform, but tonight he’s wearing a pair of baggy cargo pants and a tight black T-shirt. He steps up onto the outside edge of the ring and helps me up, too.

  Clinging to the rope so I don’t tumble back into the crowd, an uneasy feeling creeps over me. I sure as hell hope he doesn’t expect me to fight anybody. In this dress, there’s no way I could avoid flashing the whole world.

  “Here’s our guest of honor,” Miles booms. “Harper Riley!”

  The crowd’s cheers are loud enough to rattle the walls, but I’m only focused on one spectator. I catch Eli’s eye from the back of the room, and he nods in approval.

  “The day after tomorrow, she’ll go out to defend our compound . . . kick some drifter ass . . . and make us proud!”

  The crowd goes crazy. As he yanks my arm into the air, a feeling of helplessness swamps me.

  These people have been out there, but none of them know what I’m walking into. The drifters are mobilizing, and Recon operatives are disappearing faster than Jayden can replace them. Everyone in the room thinks they’ve just gone AWOL, but I know better.

  A deafening wave of bass blares from the speakers around the ring, and a few people start jumping up and down to the beat.

  The somber part of the evening is over. Miles releases me, and I’m met by a storm of backslaps and rough, calloused handshakes. I realize they’re being nice to me because they think I’m one of them now, which makes my throat burn with guilt.

  I make a beeline for the other cadets, but my path is blocked by a solid and very familiar chest. “Hey.”

  I follow the faint hint of a six-pack up until I meet Eli’s piercing eyes. His gaze travels down to my short dress and back up again, and a slight flush sneaks up my neck when I remember Eli’s weakness for legs.

  “Hey,” I say, feeling like an idiot. “I didn’t know you came to these.”

  He quirks an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  I shrug more dramatically than I meant to. I’m starting to feel a faint buzz from the drink I downed, and it’s making me even less coherent than usual. “It just doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

  “You think I’m no fun?”

  I counter his mock-offended tone with an eye roll. “I know you’re no fun.”

  He lets out a quick, full-body laugh that makes me smile. Eli rarely laughs, and the sound sends a surge of warmth through my whole body.

  “Well, tonight’s your night. And you’re my partner out there. I couldn’t miss it.”

  The way he says those words surprises me. I can tell it means something serious to go out on the Fringe with someone, and it hits me what a huge sacrifice he’s making. Trained or not, I know I’m unprepared to fend off an army of drifters — and this is no ordinary mission.

  Blushing a little, I struggle to meet his gaze dead-on. “Well, thank you . . . for everything. I’m glad you’re coming. And I’m sorry for . . . you know . . . punching you in the face.”

  “It’s okay. It happens.”

  I open my mouth to ask how many other cadets have hit him, but somebody in the crowd staggers into me and shoves me toward Eli.

  I throw out an arm to stop my fall — planting my palm on his chest. He reaches out to steady me, glaring at the rugged bearded guy. When he looks back at me, I realize we’re barely a foot apart. I’m still touching his chest, and his hand is wrapped around my upper arm.r />
  I drop my hand, but he holds on.

  “You’re going to be okay, Harper. We’ll get through this.”

  That steals the last bit of air in my lungs, and suddenly the room seems to fold in on me. I’m overwhelmed by the mass of bodies pressing in around us, the loud music, the stress from the last two weeks, and the impact of Eli’s words.

  Just then, the crowd moves back. I hear a few yells and whistles from near the ring, and I know somebody started a real fight.

  I try to take some deep breaths, but it doesn’t do anything to calm my racing heart. Just when I can’t take it anymore, the wall of bodies rolls back harder. People stomp on our feet to get out of the way, and I jut out my elbows to hold my ground against the wave of people.

  The same guy careens into me again, and I pitch forward.

  “Hey!” Eli yells, catching me before I face-plant on the floor.

  He pulls me back up to my feet and reads the panic in my eyes. My old phobia has kicked in hard, and I’m struggling against the dizziness and heat creeping up my chest and face. I hate crowds, and getting jostled and pushed back in the small space is unleashing my worst fears.

  A look of concern flashes across Eli’s face, and he tugs me back toward the entrance.

  That dark tunnel is the last place I want to go, but it’s the only area with no people.

  By the time Eli cuts through the thick crowd, my breaths are coming in fits and starts. Normally I would be embarrassed for him to see me like this, but I’m too preoccupied with the choking fear that’s cutting off my air supply.

  We reach the dark tunnel, and Eli’s luminous eyes appear very close to my face.

  “Are you okay?”

  I nod, yanking off my jacket to cool down. “I don’t like crowds.”

  He takes the jacket from me and drapes it over an exposed pipe. “Does this happen a lot?”

  I shake my head and struggle to find enough air to answer. “Only when I’m under a lot of, uh . . . stress.”

  I don’t see him reach out, but I feel his hands on my arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. My bare skin tingles where he touches me, and I try not to read anything into this gesture.