“You’ll need to give me something first, a piece of truth that will make pulling you up worth my time and energy.”
“I’m falling!”
“A piece of truth, Finn.”
Feeling my grip slipping, I shout,“Paul!”
He laughs in delight. “Oh, how I missed that name.Paul! Paul! Don’t leave us, Paul! We can protect you here!Did they tell you how much they wanted us to stay in that shithole?”
“Yes! Please, I’m slipping.”
He pulls me up into the apartment. I lie on my side, panting and shaking.
Hector slides the glass wall back into place, making the apartment quiet once more. He holds my chin. “Say it. Say my name. It’s been so long.”
I grind my teeth and hiss, “Paul.”
*
“Wake up.”
I open my eyes in the same room I woke up in earlier today.
“Take this for the pain.”
I move to sit, feeling lightheaded and nauseous. I take the small vial from Hector and drink what’s inside. I should be worried about being drugged, but it’s not like he needs to drug me to make me do what he wants.
“Wear these.”
I look at the pile of dark, elegant clothes on the bed. “Why these?”
“You can’t go to a cemetery without dressing appropriately.”
Confused, I get dressed all in black, my pain subsiding thanks to what was in that vial. I put on a pair of new shoes, then walk to the living room, where Hector is already waiting by the door.
“Do I need to put a collar around your neck to keep you close and obedient?”
“No.”
“A pity. Let’s go.”
We take an elevator down from the 40th floor. Armed guards wait for us in the wide lobby to escort us to the longest car I’ve ever seen. We enter the back seat, sitting face to face while the guards enter two other cars. When we begin to drive, I ask, “Why are we going to a cemetery?”
“Because you possess knowledge of an early part of a story, and I’m compelled to share with you the rest.”
“Why?”
He doesn’t answer, and I let it go. I look through the window as we drive through crowded streets on our way east. The more we drive, the smaller the houses get, reminding me of the place I lived in while looking for Caden. After almost twenty minutes, we stop in front of an old sign forFairmount Cemetery.
We walk through the large gate, leaving the guards behind. The sky is more orange than blue with the sun beginning to set, and the breeze is relatively warm. A few people stroll between the graves, but they hurry to leave at the sight of Hector. We walk between rows and rows of old gravestones, the years going back for more than a century, sometimes more than two.
Since Hector wasn’t born in Denver, I wonder who he could know that is buried here.
“How do you bury your dead in Unity?” he asks.
“We have a gravesite outside of the Hive, but people can sign up for decomposition. It used to be mandatory in the early years before it was possible to exit the Hive.”
“Hivers aren’t known for accepting outsiders, not to mention Raiders.”
