Concealed in the Shadows (Book #1)

Chapter Eighteen

In buckling alone, Crewe's bulk jostles me back and forth. With the van in motion, I decide to creep a spot closer to my sister. Crewe notices, but takes no offense. He lifts his weapon from the floor and places it on his lap, resting his pointer finger just above the trigger.

Della is already elbow-deep in the contents of one of the bags that Galv lifted to her. She carefully lines a clean towel with a selection of surgical utensils.

I stroke Evvie's shin as Della lays her back and places a wet towel over her face. Evvie's eyelids grow heavier and heavier and the creases in her forehead give way. I'm happy to take the burden of worry from her as she slips into unconsciousness.

Although I'm concerned that she's not completely under, I have to trust Galv and Della. We can't waste any time. Della rubs alcohol along Evvie's wrist while Galv tightly ties a band below her elbow. Although we are riding quickly and unsteadily, Galv's hand is unwavering as he makes the incision.

At first, there is little blood. That changes substantially after Della helps Galvesten switch his tool. He has to enter the radial artery to remove the tiny chip and the cilia-like sensors that protrude from it. Doing so requires some twisting and reentering of the tool. Warm blood begins to spill messily from Evvie's wrist. My weak stomach begins to sicken from the compilation of the image and the worry it arouses.

I feel a gentle hand come to rest on my back. I turn to see Crewe has either been watching the beginnings of the surgery too, or has been watching me. "Here," he whispers as he ushers my queasy head between my knees. "It'll be okay." He leaves his hand on my back for another moment. I close my eyes and nod, feeling the hand lift after I indicate that I'm composed. Crewe doesn't push friendliness or familiarity with me. He knows some uncertainties about him will linger in me until this whole ordeal is resolved.

"Crewe," Galvesten calls from my right. Crewe sets his gun on the floor and unbuckles. I keep my head lowered, knowing that what Crewe reaches for is the bloodstained chip that moments ago floated amid the swimming fluids in my sister's artery.

The driver stops the vehicle and turns off the headlights. The dark-haired, wiry young man sitting on my left unbuckles and opens the heavy slider. I peek to see Galvesten hand Crewe a magnifying glass just as Della redirects the portable, halogen light into my eyes. The driver anxiously turns to await Crewe's examination of the chip.

He gently flips the miniscule chip in his palm and squints to investigate. My heartbeat grows irregular. I hold my breath. Crewe's face drops. He looks to the apprehensive driver and releases a depressing, "Yes." I know the unasked question he was answering. Yes, the county government has been able to listen to my little sister all of her life through the unmistakable microphone Crewe sees in her chip.

Crewe runs from the vehicle. The driver's palms smash the steering wheel. The man in the passenger seat exits the car while the one to my left drops his head in his hands. I've brought all of this on them: melancholy, rage, and fear. These weren't the men who abducted me from my haven, but in just eighteen hours, these perfect strangers have been dragged into the disaster surrounding my sister and me.

"I'm sorry," I offer to the man two seats away.

"It's not your fault," the driver answers for him. "It's no one's," he adds, clarifying that the other troopers should not misappropriate this misfortune to Crewe's leadership.

"You must be Merick," I say.

"I am," he confirms. "And you must be Sydney Layton," he says blandly as he reaches his hand back to shake mine. That's right. I had forgotten that I gave Layton, not Harter, as my last name.

I unbuckle to shake Merick's outstretched hand. His handshake is firm yet welcoming. He trusts me despite the fact that my sister and me could easily be viewed as spies with our ahead-of-our-time, microphone-infested chips. Yet I don't trust him, or even the Davids brothers, enough to reveal my real name. I hope there won't be hell to pay when I decide to tell them the truth. Hopefully, they can understand my reasoning.