In The Afterlight

My jaw set in irritation and embarrassment at the less than flattering assessment. Forgives too easily? We’d see about that.

“Here, that’s the one, TRIBES,” I said. “Open that one.”

“Tribes?” Senator Cruz asked.

“That’s what Clancy called the groups of kids who left East River—the safe haven...well, not really a safe haven in the end, but that was his claim. Whenever a group of kids left, he’d send them off with supplies.” And the road code to communicate safe routes to each other. I’d wondered, more than once, how many of these “tribes” had left East River together before we arrived there, and now I had my answer: twelve, most in groups of five or six.

The grid was divided into columns by group, with dates and locations listed under each header. I had Nico scroll across until he found the listing for Zu’s group. There were two updates beneath it: one in Colorado, one in California. The last update was a month ago.

He knew where she was. Or, at least, that she had made it out west. I gripped my hands together behind my back to keep from giving into the urge to punch the screen. He’d known, that whole time I’d felt hopeless about ever finding her again.

“How did he get these updates?” Cole asked. “This is gold, but only if the information is good.”

“He told me once...” Nico started to say. I felt, rather than saw, his eyes dart to me for a moment. His voice was soft again when he continued. “There was a number that they could call and leave status messages. Or ask for help. He said he sometimes helped one group find another if they were feeling scared to be out on their own in smaller numbers. He knew everything.”

I didn’t doubt that. There was so much information here, we’d have to spend the next few days weeding through it. Our cursory glance through had turned up absolutely nothing about Lillian, not that I’d expected it to.

“Can you go back to the Thurmond folder?” I asked. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Senator Cruz press a hand against her mouth and start to rise.

“All of the camps...are they all like that?” she asked.

“It’s sort of like comparing rotten apples,” Cole said, and I knew he was assessing her reaction the same way I was. “They’re all bad, but some of them make the others look appetizing.”

“What’s the most recent file in the folder?” I asked Nico. “Can you tell?”

“Yeah, it’s this one....”

“The fire evacuation plan?” Senator Cruz clarified. We’d already looked through the document, seen the maps marked with the order in which the PSFs and camp controllers would clear out the cabins in the event of an emergency. The other files were on PSF personnel, and materials on the research conducted in what I knew was called the Infirmary. None of which featured Clancy himself, of course. If evidence had existed, he would have found a way to destroy it rather than let anyone see him so powerless.

“Clancy kept dropping hints that there was something going on....”

“And you’re sure he wasn’t just baiting you to get a rise out of you?” Senator Cruz patted my shoulder. “His father loves playing that game with people.”

Nico was just about to close the file’s window when Cole sucked in a sharp breath and said, “Wait. Scroll back up.”

Cole’s eyes narrowed and his hand came up to rub along his unshaved jaw. I looked between him and the screen several times, trying to see whatever it was he was seeing.

“Damn,” Cole said softly.

I felt something heavy drag down my stomach. “What?”

“They’re moving kids out of the camp in this scenario, but if there were a fire, then why not move the kids to the inner rings until it’s contained? Or why not herd the kids to the boundaries of the camp? The thing is like a mile wide, right? And why only account for one scenario? What happens if the fire is in the Mess, or the work facility? We just assumed it was an emergency plan based on a bunch of arrows and numbers, but there’s nothing on here to indicate that that’s what it is.”

“If it’s not an emergency action plan, then what is it?” I asked.

“I think it was an evacuation plan, in the event of the camp’s location being compromised or if Gray was taken out or overthrown. But look—”

I leaned forward. He was pointing to the small text at the top of the page. The word AMENDED was listed next to December 10th of the previous year. The date struck through beside it was from almost five years earlier.

Cole took control of the mouse and scrolled down again, “They’ve labeled this with the operational name Cardinal. And here—I thought the numbers next to each cabin referred to how quickly by the minute the PSFs needed to reach them, but three-zero-one could be March first, couldn’t it?”

“Wait—” I said, “wait, what does it mean, then?”

“It means that they’re not evacuating the camp,” Nico said, his voice small, “they’re moving the kids out, four cabins each day.”

“Am I wrong in assuming that the only reason they’d move the kids out is if they were closing the camp?” Senator Cruz asked.

“There was another file labeled Cardinal,” Cole said. “Yeah, that one, the list of the small camps.”

“And the PSF personnel transfer list,” I said. “Oh my God.”

I pressed my hands against my face and forced myself to remember to breathe. The room was shrinking around me, tightening and tightening around my shoulders as the possibility solidified into something real. They’re closing the camp.