Clay waved his phone in front of Kitt, practically shoving it in the other man’s face.
Kitt, to his credit, didn’t react to Clay’s sudden invasion of his personal space other than to redirect the phone to keep it from hitting him in the nose.
“The bunker is cut off from outside signals. You won’t be able to contact anyone while you’re down here.” Kitt slipped something small from his pocket and handed it over. “I’ve set up a few emergency phones. They don’t have Wi-Fi, and they aren’t to be used unless necessary, but you can use one to call your brother. Just don’t tell him anything about the case or our location.”
Then, with a nod, he walked away without even waiting for Clay’s response.
Clay stared down at the object in his hand, turning it around in confusion.
The object turned out to be an old Nokia phone. I hadn’t even realized those models were still functional. It looked more like a brick than a phone and could probably be used to bludgeon someone to death while still maintaining a clear signal.
After dialing a number on the phone, Clay held it up to his ear and waited, tapping his foot with impatience. It rang a few times and then gave an audible noise when someone picked up. Clay didn’t even wait to hear the other person’s voice before he started speaking.
“Hey, Jason. Sorry it took me so long to call. It’s been busy and I couldn’t get a signal.” He paused for a moment, listening to the other person. “Yeah, it’s going all right. I’m... I’m okay. Facing this stuff isn’t exactly pleasant, but... I’m handling it. Plus, I’ve got Logan with me, so I’ll be all right.”
I kicked my feet harder in the water, using the splashing to help drown out Clay’s conversation. Whatever he said to his brother was private, and it shouldn’t be exposed just because he didn’t realize I was within hearing range.
It must be nice, having a brother. Or any family at all, really. I’d been so young when the bell ringers took me that I didn’t have any memories from before them. There was no telling where I came from, or even who I was.
Even my name may not be mine.
The bell ringers called me Jordy, so that was the name I used, but I suspected it wasn’t my original name. I didn’t even have a surname.
After joining the recovery center, they’d helped me get a proper name, social security number, and all that paperwork stuff that made a person a person. My DNA had been run, but nothing had come up, and no birth record had been found for me. I’d been a completely blank slate who’d had to build himself from scratch. At first, I’d considered changing my name, but Jordy was all I’d ever known, and even though the bell ringers had given it to me, I’d made it my own.
I wasn’t going to let them take that from me as well.
Instead, I’d simply added a proper surname, so now my full legal name was Jordy Emerson.
In the past two years, I’d been asked several times by my therapists, nurses, and even other patients at the recovery center, about the significance of the name I’d chosen. The truth was, I’d just flipped randomly through a baby names book until I found a name I liked the look of and sounded good with Jordy.
It hadn’t been any more complicated than that, but I liked the overall effect. Jordy Emerson felt like it fit me.
I stayed by the pool for a long time, even after Clay finished his call and wandered off. I’d have been happy to stay there all day, but eventually, everyone was rounded up for a meeting. Weweren’t there for vacation, after all. We had a very important mission to accomplish, one that I probably should have been more focused on, but I’d been trying not to think about the reason I was down in that bunker in the first place.
One of the cottages in the bunker was bigger than the others and acted as a communal recreation area. There was a full kitchen, with plenty of chairs and tables for everyone to sit comfortably. Efforts had been put into making everything comfortable, including a meal of cold sandwiches and hot tea, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that we were in some sort of bizarre board meeting. Like we were there to discuss stock prices and quarterly earnings, rather than divulge details about the most horrific moments of our lives.
I sat in the corner of the room at a table that was only big enough for one person, poking at my tuna sandwich as I listened to everyone else speak.
It turned out most of the investigators were not staying at the bunker permanently. They’d only come to help transport the witnesses to safety, but the case against the bell ringers was still ongoing. So, the investigators for the case needed to get back out there and continue their work.
Along with the witnesses, only two other men were left at the safe house. Kitt, and a man named Sebastian that I hadn’t met yet.
Sebastian walked with a limp, so it was obvious why he was being kept out of field work, but I still had no idea what Kitt contributed to the case.
Across the room, it was clear that Clay hated being separated from Logan. They wouldn’t even be able to visit each other, since we couldn’t risk having too many people coming and going from the safe house for fear of giving away our location.
I felt bad for him, but a part of me couldn’t help feeling jealous, too. It must be nice having someone to miss. If I hadsomeone like Logan at my side, I wouldn’t want to be apart from them, either.
Maybe.
It was actually hard to say. I’d never actually had a romantic partner before, so I couldn’t say for certain how I would handle it. While at the recovery center, I’d gone on a few dates, just to get used to the idea of reintroducing romance into my life, but nothing had come of it, and they’d all ended in disappointment.
Once basic introductions had been made, Kitt stepped up to the front of the room, and I finally learned why he was here.
He was our lawyer.
I nearly laughed out loud and took a big bite of my sandwich to silence myself.
